Hey there! Just a quick notice from me before we begin down this path of anxiety and release. This story idea came to me after watching/reading a few too many vampire and supernatural movies and manga (mostly Underworld and Hellsing, admittedly). I haven't really seen many vampire arcs in the Zelda section, so I thought it might be fun to throw in my two cents. And this is the result. I hope you enjoy it. If formatting is incorrect, I apologize; it's my first time in a long time posting anything on the internet, and I'm currently figuring out the format rules.

Disclaimer: I do not own, in way shape or form, The Legend of Zelda. That ditty belongs rightfully to Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto (Hail the King!)

Just a quick warning: I'll be combining different settings/characters from the Zelda games, including the recent (and outstanding) Twilight Princess. If there are any questions regarding the newest addition to the Zelda family, please feel free to ask. I assure you that I do not include spoilers. If I do, I'll be sure to write a warning before the chapter. Mostly, though, my Hyrule is the Ocarina of Time version. The story isn't steeped much in Hylian lore, so if my inaccuracies disgust you, I again apologize. It is through no ignorance, just a choice of material, that I omit or change things. If it bothers you, then all I can say is that you have been duly warned.

Part Two: Blood Legacy

The cows are mooing extra loudly tonight; they know what's coming. They make that sound like a pissed off cat caught between two crates. I hate that sound. Hello. My name is Link. I live in Hyrule, more specifically, in Hyrule Castle on graces of Princess Zelda. That is, I live there when I'm not traveling. Sounds pretty normal, right? Just your average guy, living day-to-day. Oh boy, do I wish it were true. First of all, I happen to bear a second title, a little one known as "Hero of Time". And anyway, I don't live day-to-day. At least, not anymore. I guess you could say that now I live night-to-night. But I'll get there. Back to this Hero of Time business. I used to be that normal guy, but then one day I found myself in the middle of some epic war between good and evil, light and dark, yadda yadda yadda. I got over it. Now I stay with my on-again off-again girlfriend and confidant, Zelda. We'd be your average every day couple with commitment issues if it weren't for the fact that she's a beautiful princess with more power than I would wish to yield, and I'm a lonely little Nightcrawler. That's what they call them in Hyrule. Vampires, I mean. But I'm getting ahead myself again. Right now what's really important are those cows.

I'm standing in a darkened corner of Lon Lon Ranch, watching the beasts and waiting. I've heard that they come near midnight, but aren't always reliable. So I wait. And I waste the better part of a beautiful night sitting on my ass listening to some cows complain. Funny how your life can change. I mean, one day I'm spending my time herding up goats on the back of my trusted horse, the next I'm running around all of Hyrule killing baddies and getting the girl, the day after I'm back on my ass with farm animals. Go figure.

I hear a swishing noise that calls me to attention. I stand and stretch and wait to see what will happen. I notice a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye and I turn. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle, and I know I'm not alone. Luckily, I've grown out of the bad habit of calling out "Is someone there?" when I'm alone in a dark room. A few experiences of getting walloped for my stupidity, and I stopped that. Instead I do what I've grown so accustomed to doing: I wait. Another flash of movement and I turn on my heel fast enough to deflect a dangerous projectile aimed at my head. I guess on nights like this, it's good that I was Turned. Don't get me wrong, I loved daylight and people, but my human reflexes just weren't up to snuff for things like this.

The creature that has plagued Lon Lon Ranch for so long suddenly appears fully in my vision. Again, I thank my honed senses. A year or two ago, and I would have never been able to see the beast through this thick blanket of night. Normally I wouldn't call these things "beasts". I've developed a lot of empathy for them. But these new ones…no, they're hardly Nightcrawlers, or anything like it. These are beasts, and I can barely imagine if they were ever human in the first place. They are a grotesque attempt to copy nature, even if the nature they try to copy is grotesque, itself. Okay, so I have a bit of a self-hate complex. I'm working on it.

The animal stands around seven and a half feet tall with ashen gray skin that looks partially between scales and leather. Large, pointed ears extend out of its bat-like face, where glowing eyes sit deep in their sockets. A set of teeth that barely fit in its massive mouth jut out and cause a constant stream of drool to slobber down its front. Thick, ropey muscles line its body just beneath the skin and give definition to its too long arms and legs, both of which end in long claws. What are supposed to be its hands are actually three curved scythe-like blades. A fourth sometimes extends from where its palms should be. The fourth is the one to look out for: more times than not, it contains a nasty poison that, when injected into the bloodstream, wreaks havoc for a few days until turning you into a pile of bloody and unrecognizable pulp. A membrane connects the creature's arms and legs so that it could potentially fly, though not all of them actually do. They're not all the same, but they all follow the same pattern, and they've all got nasty attitudes. Not something you want to take home to meet your mother.

In any case, the one I'm facing happens to be a flyer, and it takes this opportunity to leap skyward. Not that it could really go anywhere, but I guess its primitive little brain thought at would be intimidating. I'm not easily intimidated. These things are tough bastards, but I've faced off against worse and come out of it alive. I pull a couple daggers out and advance. Seeing that I'm not going to run or wet myself, the creature hisses and dives towards me. With my superior reaction time, I duck and jab the daggers upwards, wrenching a couple of troughs in the creature's belly. It screams horribly, and I resist the urge to cover my ears. The vocal chords on these things are massive and capable of discharging vast amounts of sound, but again, I've dealt with worse. I simply dive forward and take another few chunks of skin away from its bones. It swats at me, but I avoid the attack and throw one dagger at it. When it blocks that dagger, I chuck the other and land it in its face. It howls again, clutching the blade. But it's too late, and we both know it. It collapses and begins to writhe. Smoke curls out of its body, along with an acrid smell of burning flesh. Before I can do much more, all that's left of the beast is a pile of ashes, which I scoop into a tube. The dagger that had landed in its face had melted with the body, leaving only the hilt. I take that and the serviceable dagger and wrap them both in cloth.

I exit the barn. The cows are cornered on the other side of the ranch, far away from the battle. A single slaughtered carcass sits in the middle of the grazing field. Two more freaks are crouched by it, fighting over scraps. I curse and pull out my bow. They notice me and take to the air, screeching. One of them has a few chunks of cow meat clutched in one talon. I fire a couple arrows, but they're soon out of my range. I curse again and walk to the cow. Talon won't be happy that he lost another cow to my harebrained scheme. At least I dispatched a Bat. But I'm beginning to fear that wherever these beasts are coming from, they're coming faster than ever. Pretty soon, I may not be able to keep up. I can only hope they don't start striking at day, like the one from Death Mountain. Then I won't be much help at all. Sighing, I start off towards Hyrule Castle. I don't bother to calm the cows, like I would have done in years past. My presence would do nothing but frighten them more. Sad, but true. Animals have a way of sensing other animals, especially dangerous ones. And to think, I used to be an animal person. Now I'm not much of a person at all.

The trip back to the castle is short and uneventful. I keep an eye out for cow-killing Bats, but know I won't find any. Those things disappear when they want to, and there's not much I can do about it. When I get back to the castle, Zelda is waiting for me.

"How'd it go?"

"Killed one, lost two more." I show her the bottle of ashes.

"So it burned like the rest?"

"Did you expect it to do anything else?"

She sighs, "Not really."

A pause lulls our conversation, and she looks up at me. A warm spot appears in my stomach as her blue eyes sweep mine. She's wearing a night slip, and I can imagine the soft curves of her body beneath the material. She touches my arm lightly and smiles. I'm a sucker for that smile. She doesn't give it often, but when it's there, it's like she knows everything there is to know about you and understands it all and accepts you for it. In those moments, I seriously think that I love her. And I think she knows. She leans forward, and I can smell her perfume, lingering even after she washes it off. Somewhere during this moment, my arms ended up around her waist. She is warm, and it feels good to hold her. I run a hand through her hair and inhale her scent. Even as her arms wrap around my neck and our faces come closer, alarm bells go off in the back of my mind. My heart has begun to beat. I want nothing more than to ignore it and push the dread away, but instead I push Zelda away and say, "We can't."

That simple motion sucks the energy from me, and all at once I feel winded. She looks hurt, but she composes herself and says curtly, "Enjoy the rest of your night." Then she leaves. I groan and sit heavily on the stone floor. There was a time when we would have continued. Continued until the sun came up to find us exhausted, but happy, each loving the feel of the other's arms. Not anymore. Now we spend the time distantly, despite our desire for life otherwise. It's mostly my fault, I guess. I hate that she's already been sucked in so far to this shitty nightlife. She has other duties, other needs that I could never meet in this form. Staying late like this to wait for me is bad enough; she needs energy for her duties to state. Besides, she needs someone who would give her a legitimate heir. That's a job I'm definitely no longer suited for. One drawback to being a vampire is the inability to procreate. Sure, I can have sex, but a child is out of the question. I guess I've come to terms with it, but it still hurts to think that I can't give Zelda what she needs.

Berating myself for being so idiotic, I drag myself up and trudge toward the lab. The lab is located at the back of Hyrule Castle on the lower levels. It's a recent addition, run by Doctor Spindeloff, himself a recent addition to Hyrule. He came from the western lands beyond the desert when he heard about all of the freak activity in Hyrule. He's been studying freaks his whole life, he says, and I just so happen to be one of his favorite study subjects. Technically, he likes to tell me, I shouldn't exist. I should just be among the numbers of dead attributed to vampiric hunting. But the fact is, I do exist, and I happen to be Hyrule's best chance in stopping all these attacks. Last winter, I thought I had stopped the violence for good, but I turned out to be sorely mistaken, as these new Bats began showing up. We don't know much about them, but Spindeloff thinks they're some sort of scientifically created vampires. Personally, I feel a little insulted at being lumped in the same category as those imposters. As far as I'm concerned, they are nothing but another problem that needs to be taken care of.

I enter the lab and greet the doctor. "I brought another sample for you," I say as I toss the bottle at him.

He looks at the ashes and says, "For once, couldn't you at least get a specimen that's intact?"

"Not my fault; they all disintegrate the moment they die."

"Then don't kill them."

I don't respond, but I think about how much more troublesome it would be to actually capture one of those things rather than kill it. Spindeloff should just do his own damn dirty work. He's supposed to be a genius, why doesn't he devise some sort of way of capturing them? Myself, I'll just kill the bastards and be done with it.

Spindeloff fiddles with the ashes, mixing them with some substances and tittering to himself. I break the silence by asking, "So have you got any ideas as to where these things are coming from?"

He watches some liquids turn blue before replying, "Not a single one. Have you got any?"

"Of course not."

"Then why would I?"

Spindeloff was irking me; I was already in a bad mood over what happened with Zelda, and I felt the need to be a bit snappy, "Because that's what you're getting paid to do! Zelda isn't funding your little venture just for you watch some chemicals change colors in glass tubes! Your job is to get answers!"

"My, my, aren't we touchy? Have you eaten recently? Or maybe this anger is from something else…something of a more personal matter?" He fixes his piercing green eyes on me, "Perhaps something to do with your pretty little princess?"

Discovered. The man's perception bothers me. "That's none of your business."

He smiles wryly, "You keep on like this, and it'll be my business. I don't want my best subject beset by mating problems."

My upper lip curls slightly, revealing my fangs, "Talk to me like that again, and I'll make it my business to suck you dry."

Spindeloff continues to smile, but says seriously, "Zelda wouldn't like that."

"Doesn't mean I won't do it."

"How true."

Our conversation ends in a stalemate, as I decide it's time to leave this headache. Like it or not, it's time to feed. Not the best part of my night. I leave before he says anything else. There are only a few hours of night left, and I have some ground to cover.

I like to go to the very outskirts of Hyrule to hunt. It wouldn't do to start a ruckus in the very land I've work a good portion of my life to protect. Besides, I don't think people would like it very much if they found out the hero they all looked up to was actually one of the creatures they've hated for so long. I think about that sometimes, and it makes me sick. So I hunt out in the dregs, where the forest is thick and dotted with small mountains. I can find enough prey there to quench my thirst for a few days. I make a point not drink human blood. The few times I have are dark memories for me, ones that I would like to forget. But sometimes they resurface, and it's not the memories, themselves, that are so frightening, but the thoughts that accompany them. I think about how amazing it felt when I was attached to a person's pulse and could feel it coursing through me. I think that I would like to feel that again. And I think that killing humans really wouldn't be that bad, because then I would, for once, feel satisfied. Animal blood isn't satisfying the way human blood is. And I crave it. Sometimes the craving gets so bad that I have to lock myself into my room and wait for it to leave. Sometimes that takes hours. Once I was locked in there for three days. I think I lost a little of my sanity then, and I've tried as much as I can to regain it, but I know that beast is inside of me. It's waiting for the right moment, and then it will jump out and drink its fill.

I shove those thoughts away. Those are dangerous, poisonous thoughts. I concentrate on hunting. Not that hunting takes a lot of thought, anyway. If there's one thing I've learned in my short tenure of vampirism, it's that vampires are killing machines. We're programmed for destruction. It's another thought that could keep me from sleep. A bird flies off nearby and I shoot it down. The animal falls from the sky and I scoop it up. I can feel the blood coursing through its tiny body, making quick circuits as its heart beats its last few pumps. My body wakes up to this. It's like vampires have some imbedded instinct that arises when it's Time to Feed. That's how it feels in my mind. Like everything wakes up and announces it's Time to Feed, with the capital letters, like a proper noun. My lips pull back and I dig my teeth into the bird. It gives a couple pathetic kicks, then dies. Feeding on animals isn't exactly glamorous. I always come away from it feeling a little dirty. I think if I have to do this for the rest of eternity, I'll go crazy.

I arrive back at the castle about half an hour before dawn. The guards stare warily at me, and I ignore them. I have permission to come and go as I please, and I'm no longer bothered by paranoid soldiers. I return to my room and lay down in my bed. It was made specially by the boy who had taken Dante's position as Kakariko gravedigger. It isn't exactly a coffin, but it's similar enough to pass for one. I'm still surprised with myself about it, actually. The first time I saw it, I refused to get anywhere near it. I've never liked tight spaces, but I grew to enjoy this. It shields me from stray sunbeams and keeps my body temperature regular. I doubt I would be very healthy without this thing. It does its job well enough to avoid breaking a rule. That's another fact about vampirism: there are rules. Lots of rules, and if you want to survive, the rules must be followed. I bend a few of them, and I've broken others, but as the doctor says, I'm a special case. Besides, I've never been fond of rules.

I shut my eyes and wait for that all-consuming sleep. Vampiric sleep isn't so much sleep as it is death. Clinically, a sleeping vampire passes completely for a dead person. No pulse, no breath, no muscular activity. Just the long silence of death. Then, when the sun disappears beneath the horizon, the vampire awakes. It's like laying down one moment, then getting up the next, and nothing about you has changed, except that it's the next night. It's easy to lose track of time as a vampire. Generally, vampires don't dream. That's what makes the transition between sleeping and waking so seamless. It has a kind of dark perfection to it: an endless round of nights uninterrupted by the common workings of human sleep. Of course, vampiric dreams have been known to exist. But they are rare, and experienced by very few. I happen to have dreamed once in the past. That dream was enough to make me desire the endless string of nights so common to Nightcrawlers. I had been fortunate enough to have dreamless days ever since, up until today. Today, my death-sleep found interruption for a second time.

It's raining, but the liquid that pours down from the sky is sluggish and heavy, unnatural. Colors are inverted, like a negative for a photograph. Everything seems sharp and unyielding. I'm standing in an abandoned warehouse. A rotten stench permeates the air, and I walk forward without my own consent. Then I'm watching a fight between two people; a third is hanging in the background motionless. Flashes of light and sound engulf me, and I can hear strains of speaking, sometimes screaming. I'm back in the warehouse. Chains hang from the ceiling, and massive crates line the walls. I hear someone scream the words "be less!" A hole in the roof lets that sluggish rain in, and as the droplets cover me, I realize that blood rains from the sky. I drop to me knees and raise my head. I drink the falling blood. My heart pounds unnaturally in my chest. I look forward, and I am no longer in the warehouse. I recognize some of my surroundings, but I can't place the setting. Three women are crouched over a body. They rip it open and begin to gorge themselves on blood and flesh. I feel my body awaken to it and know that I want to join. My pupils dilate and fangs lengthen. Saliva coats my mouth in anticipation of a real meal. But before I can take my share in the body, I realize that I know the mangled face of the victim. The person still lives, and they look up at me. Our eyes lock, and he seems to be begging for help. But I lean forward and take my share. Blood coats my hands and face as my teeth rip open his veins. He screams, and I pause to look at him, blood dribbling down my chin. But he is dead, and I realize that I'm the one screaming. The women laugh raucously at this and offer me more flesh. The scene begins to fade, and I catch flashes of people and places, all of it jumbled and nonsensical. Only my screaming reaches throughout the images, like an overriding theme. I can feel my mind slipping away from me; I can feel all that I worked for falling apart. Soon there is nothing but blackness and my own horrified screams.

End Chapter One

Well, there you have it. The beginning to the second round of my little escapade. Just a quick note regarding that: this is the second story in a short series currently existing in my mind. If this story goes over well, then I'll write the prequel next. I know that sounds like an odd way of going about writing something: starting towards the end and working backwards, but I believe it can work. I know these chapters raise many questions, but I'll answer them all in due time. I hope you enjoyed this. Please review with questions, comments, suggestions, etc. I already have the second chapter written, so it shouldn't be long until I post it, too. Until next time!