Vampire Hunter Chronicles: Redemption
Chapter 1: Living with Yourself
Disclaimer: I do not own Castlevania Symphony of the Night or the characters of the Castlevania franchise.
The ruins of that castle stood firmly in Richter's mind as he stood in the study of his home as he paced around the room and wondered how he should expand the trade of the Belmont family, which was a trading company. It was very small and was set up for very…unique items that were also meant to be retrieved or had been gained by his victories against creatures of the night. He knew that he should be looking at the important matters of the trading company, but he would find himself going off over the world on some quest to vanquish another evil. That was the punishment that he gave himself for being taken in so easily by the spell that Shaft had placed on him during the time of Dracula's second revival. He could not forgive himself yet of the fact that he had let his own power and title get to his head, making him think that he needed that trophy to make him a man. Now he was just pacing around his room and keeping himself from thinking about the other duties which he had to attend to for the good of his family.
"So this is what the great Richter Belmont becomes when he is done with his duty," said Richter as he sat down and looked at the parchment on his desk for the first time since he had his page set it there. "Take away Dracula and I am just a tradesman looking into the business of giving queer things to queerer men, such is the necessary evil of being mortal."
"There are a great many things worse that one could be than a mortal," said a deep smooth voice from the doorway of his home. There stood a silver haired man, whose hair was long and sometimes curled a bit at the end with a manner of elegance, while the man himself had smooth pale skin that was as white as the moon. It looked as if he was made from the very surface of the moon and he had an aura about him that was dark and mysterious, just as the full moon was on a windy night.
"I still do not see how my forefathers could stand being here after they were forced to put down their own whips," said Richter as he looked through each piece of paper that was only talking about the troubles of the trade.
"They were able to make their living off the land and had not been as tied in with the new world as you have been," said the man as he stood in front of the portrait of the most respected Belmont, Simon Belmont, the Belmont to leave the biggest legacy. "Take your ancestor Simon Belmont, I had the honor of fighting by him for a time when a certain threat was called up and after that, he kept on going after enemies throughout the world. His rewards should have done much to give his descendents financial ease even now, but I suppose that one Belmont had expensive tastes."
"Unfortunately that was my father," said Richter as he rubbed his eyes and then signed a few documents. "He threw parties and got drunk on a regular basis, such that our reputation was a bit diminished in the world that Belmont's are usually most prominent in. He rarely touched his whip, instead looking to form this pitiful trading company that I had to raise from the ground up when I came into possession of the whip on his death. I believe that I was of sixteen years of age and well taught thanks to my uncle Morrison, who was also kind enough to have a vampire hunter teach me in those ways to. The whip, however, came naturally to me, which was grand because no one could teach me how to use the damn thing."
"That reminds me of Simon's own troubles when he was the only Belmont left after the others seemed to be diminished by sickness and attempts to get into politics," replied the man as he looked at the Red haired man in the portrait and then turned to say, "This is the very image of Simon Belmont."
"Yes, some say that he even placed himself in the painting just in case he would ever be called upon again," laughed Richter as he wrote something down in his book and then made one final stroke before he closed it up. "Maybe I should quite this business and try what Simon did, but my father said that this business was put in place to make sure that there was life getting back to this land."
"Even Simon Belmont settled down to raise his son," said the man as he ran his tongue over one of his abnormally sharp canines. "He did of course go back to his adventures, yet he never seemed to grow old, I suppose as a gift from god himself. I wonder if I may ever see Simon Belmont again in this lifetime."
"You know he had very few tales written down in the records compared to the other Belmont's yet whenever I go to places there always seem to be other tale not written down," remarked Richter as he pulled out a book bound in black leather with gold letterings. "I plan to keep it for an accurate history of the life of Simon Belmont, but I believe that I should go and find what other tales there might be of other great Belmonts and maybe other vampire hunters."
"This sounds like another way to get out of this other life that you live, the life of an ordinary man," said the man as he placed a hand on Richter's shoulder and Richter then nodded. "I know what you are thinking, that after everything you have done so far, it all still doesn't make up for the things that you did while under the control of Shaft."
"It was my pride that got the better of me, and I let it control me, I let the very thing we fight control me," said Richter at a volume that was only a hair away from being a whisper. "This was a failing of the Belmont family and I don't know what the next descendents of this world will face or how ready they will be to face it since it seems that our will and morals have diminished over the years. Maybe it is time for someone else to wield the whip, another family that we can trust?"
"What family can trust as much as your own," asked the man as he gave a soft chuckle at the words and he then saw that Richter was pulling a letter out from his drawer.
"My father was an adulterer and it would seem I have a half brother in America, Texas to be exact," said Richter as he examined each letter. "Dracula has gotten much wiser in his plans over the years and is now targeting us before we can realize that he is awake."
"Yes it is true, but then again, many a Belmont before you fought for their life."
"You know, I am certain that there will be much promise in this Morrison family," said Richter as he put the whip into a chest. "We will return, us Belmont's, but first we must wait until the time is right. I know you think my decision is a poor one, but I believe that I have served my time as the bane of darkness and must now give it up to another adventurer. I hope you will understand Alucard."
"Yes I understand completely and will watch over your descendents, Richter," said the dhampire known as Alucard. "Hopefully Maria and I will have descendents, but I think I would rather avoid it just in case they inherit some of my traits."
"You're a good friend Alucard," said Richter as he put the finishing touches on his letter.
This is where Richter's part in the tale ends and where another Belmont's tale begins, much later on, in fact it would be right after the second world war. Of course, this tale will start off with a Morrison now, Jonathan Morrison, the current wielder of Vampire Killer. This tale has been written down by me for the sole purpose of an accurate documentation and to pass the time.
His face was pressed into the polished wooden table, enough to make it into the very likeness of a fusion on a cellular level so that his face could not be told apart from the table. Normally he would seem so strong and cheerful, but today he looked as if he had spent the whole night fucking a succubus as described by one his classmates, Alan Kishine. Charlotte wasn't too happy about the idea being put into her head the first thing in the morning and told him of this before going back to her studies. Unlike Jonathan, she was very studious and was very much the best student in the class, but she got less recognition for defeating Dracula than Jonathan did, mostly due to the fact that she was a girl, but also because she was not the wielder of the cherished, Vampire Killer. Only she knew the truth of the matter, that Jonathan had always feared his whip because if he ever used it too much, he would surely follow the fate of his father, the late John Morris. And I know exactly why he is tired, thought Charlotte as she stole a glance over towards him before turning back to the book. When the class ended for lunch, she spent it with him in the bell tower, the only place where they could talk privately.
"So, I guess the bags under your eyes mean that you haven't found them yet," asked Charlotte as she looked at Jonathan who just sobbed at his plight.
"I know that they had to pass it on to someone, but did they have to disappear off the face of the earth as well," asked Jonathan as he took out the book and showed it to her. "They don't even talk about an assumed name or where they go or anything and so far it seems like they aren't included in any records."
"Well we are about to take a break for a bit, maybe we can go around the world and see if we get lucky," suggested Charlotte as she helped his head lift itself. "You know you just have to be patient about these things and try not to beat yourself up."
"This is something I must do Charlotte, I don't if the next time that I use Vampire Killer that it won't kill me," replied Jonathan as he leaned back into the wall. "I may have some Belmont blood in me, but I am obviously not Belmont enough to use this thing to its full power in danger of it killing me and after all that trouble I went to be able to wield it. I have got to find that one Belmont out there who is still alive and get him into the business of hunting the creatures of the night."
"Just be calm and he might come."
"Charlotte, this isn't a child who's done something bad, this is a distant relative who can wield a power greater than I can and save me from said power. He isn't going to fall out of the fucking sky or appear right before me just because I ask for it! Believe me I have tried that…oh God have I tried!"
"You are scaring me right now you know, it's unlike you to be like this."
"I just need a Belmont right now, I don't care who it is, just a Belmont," cried Jonathan to the wind and to his surprise he was answered.
"I'm sorry are you a Jonathan Morris," asked a tall man with long dark hair and a scar over his left eye and seemed very much like some noble man from one of the romance stories that Charlotte read.
The Master of the House, volume four front cover, thought Charlotte as she looked at him. She could see that he liked wearing black as his suit, tie, pants, shoes, and gloves were black.
"Yes and who are you," asked Jonathan as he looked at the ominous looking man.
"Well, I am Vincent Belmont, at your service," said the young man with a bow.