Mob Rule

Disclaimer: Castlevania belongs to Konami, not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Alucard . . . then he'd be mine.

Rating: PG-13

Part: one of one

Italics = thoughts and flashbacks

"We're going to have to run," Adrian Farenheights Tepes was staring around the small crowded bar.

"What?" Richter looked around the room slowly. It was full to bursting with what seemed to be every man the village possessed. Everyone had a cup in their hand and the tone seemed jovial. Nothing seemed amiss to the hunter. "Run? Why?"

"Stop looking," Adrian snapped, tugging Richter to face him. "Keep your eyes down and follow me, slowly."

"What are you talking about?" Richter said, but he followed the half blood. "I've still got half a cup." A firm shove from behind made him stumble and his half a cup went onto the floor. "Had half a cup," Richter mumbled turning to face the one who had pushed him. "Excuse you," Richter recognized the man who had pushed him. He was one of the plow hands on the Southside farm. The man was the size of an ox, but Richter was not impressed. He had fought hulking titans and monstrous wargs, he was not about to be intimidated by a man.

"Come on Richter," Adrian said quietly in his ear. "It was just an accident." Richter turned, getting irritated.

"What's gotten into you?" he snapped. Adrian didn't answer; he continued to gently tug Richter towards the exit. They were steps away from the door when the first man cried out.

"Monster!" someone threw a cup, Adrian ducked as if he knew the cup was coming.

"What?" Richter flinched as another cup was thrown.

"We weren't fast enough," Adrian said. His grip on Richter's arm tightened and he pulled a lot harder.

They emerged out onto the street and Adrian began to run. Richter kept pace with him, still confused. He turned his head to glance behind him and saw the telltale glow of torches.

"Where the hell did they come from!" he bellowed.

"Shut up, Belmont." Adrian snapped. "This way, come on." He jerked Richter to the left and bolted into the small streets off the main road.

"Where are we going?"

"Out of the village," Adrian huffed. "Away from where they can see us."

"What…" Richter gasped for breath as the half blood pulled him harder and quickened the pace. Richter couldn't find the breath to speak and run anymore. When he fell silent he could hear the angry shouts of the village men behind him, he couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could tell by the tone that they were out for blood. How men could go from jovial and pleasantly drunk too murderous rage in a matter of moments?

As Richter and Adrian ran the cries and shouts from the village grew quieter, and fainter. They reached the edge of the village, but Adrian kept going. They kept running over the grassland until they reached the forest. Even then Adrian did not let them stop, he kept going until they reached a clearing and the shouts of the men were long silent. Only then did Adrian stop.

"What … what happened?" Richter said between gasps. Adrian snorted and for once sounded amused.

"A mob, Belmont. A mob happened." Adrian sat down heavily on the ground. "A relatively small mob by most standards, but it was a mob."

"Where did the scythe come from?" Richter muttered as he caught his breath.

"The wall," Adrian answered. "It is my theory that this is why pubs have sharp tools as decorations, handy for mobs."

Richter stared hard at Adrian. He had never been so angry and scared in his life. Richter considered himself a brave man. He had faced monsters, battled Dracula and had even at one time tried Maria's home-cooked stew. He was not used to being afraid and being afraid made him angry. His hands were shaking, his heart was running like rabbits and he was mad as hell that it had all been caused by humans. It seemed somehow worse to him that it was those he was supposed to protect who were now making him feel like an infant about to lose their mother. He felt sick and spent a moment convincing his stomach to hold onto it's contents.

"Well, that was invigorating," Adrian said. "We'll wait a few moments before heading back to the house if you don't mind."

"How did you know?" Richter said. "You tried to get me to leave a good few minutes before …"

"You get a sense for them, I suppose," Adrian shrugged. "After the first nine or ten."

"This has happened to you ten times!" Richter snapped, Adrian shrugged.

"More, I think," he said, frowning at Richter's apparent distress.

"You don't seem too upset." Richter managed through deep breaths. The half blood shrugged again.

"It becomes dull when it happens so often. Hard to be upset by something that bores you." Adrian answered. "You learn to read the signs and stop panicking." He made a gesture to Richter's still trembling form. "Unlike you novices."

"You're teasing me about a bloody mob." Richter snapped, Adrian nodded as Richter sat down heavily. "Why the hell are you not furious about this, they would have killed you, had they gotten hold of you!" Richter shuddered as his imagination quickly filled in what could have happened had the mob gotten hold of them.

"It is their right," Adrian said softly. "Men chase monsters, Richter, it's what they do and if we are caught we are killed." The mortal still looked gobsmacked, "do you feel anger at the wolves who kill your sheep?"

"Yes." Richter snapped petulantly.

"You believe they do this out of malice?" Adrian asked, standing and walking to Richter who was slumped back against a rock and pouting, still working to catch his breath. The half blood knelt next to him and rested his chin on the man's head

"Wolves no, men yes," Richter grumbled, "You were doing no harm, they didn't even recognize you for what you are, they just attacked because you look …"

"Different from them." Adrian finished. "They care not what breed of monster I am only that I am not like them." Richter huffed loudly at the calm tone the other man was using; it reminded him of his wife. "Don't sulk," Adrian muttered straightening and offering a hand to help the man up.

"Your mother was killed by one of those mobs." Richter growled and regretted it instantly. Adrian went very still next to him, his face hardening, losing the subtle relaxed expression so similar to his usual expression except to those who knew him.

"You thought perhaps I had forgotten that?" he asked, his voice quiet and cold.

"Forgive me, Adrian. I should not have said that." Richter apologized.

"No, you should not have," Adrian growled. "I know that innocents die at the hands of mobs better than anyone, and I do not agree with the mobs, but I understand that men fear the monsters and I know that they fight them the only way they know how. Not all men are as gifted as you and able to take on such an adversary alone."

"I'm sorry," Richter repeated, "I know your mother was no monster."

"No, she was not," Adrian agreed. "The men who killed her were foolish and cruel. But so was my father." The half blood sighed, "We lost many of the castle inhabitants to mob justice because of him and his anger at the humans."

"I still do not understand how you can be so blasé about this, my hands are still shaking." Richter held up his hands as if to prove his nerves, "foolish drunken …. Fools." He grumbled, "You did no wrong in that place, you do not deserve to be hunted like a wolf."

"Thank you, Richter." Adrian smiled briefly and in the back of his head Richter gave himself a pat on the back. "But it is the way of the world, maybe one day it will change, but I doubt it." The smile widened for a split second. "At least now I have someone to run with."

End

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GREY WINGS

Jason is stranded in a dark city, and is in desperate need of help when he has no idea how he will get home.

So, when he collides with Aurelius, an Angel only in the mildest sense of the word – who has committed a crime worthy of great punishment, but has been handed a rare chance at redemption – Jason can see a way home.

However, their journey will be hampered by Fallen Angels, Earth Spirits, and Griffons – and none can say if everyone will make it home.