My first Castlevania fanfiction, and definitely not my last. It was a rather nice experience to be able to write again, especially since school has kept me busy and away from the blank, Microsoft document. I got to try something new with this though, learning that I can write a story without needing to finish it all in one sitting.
At any rate, I hope you all enjoy this. I do not own Castlevania or any of the characters that appear in the Curse of Darkness game, Konami does. I wrote this story, but it was only for my personal amusement and not any payment. Enjoy.
In His Blood
The voice of his loyal servant rang hollow, filling the room with words rasp from stale air forced over ages of withered vocals. He closed his eyes and pressed his head deeper into the red cushioning, his fingers gently stirring against the arm rest. The chorus of the night sang quietly beneath the rattle of bones and words, demonic energies railing in anger and sadness, hurt and sin against the creation of the earth they were bound. Dracula embraced the rage and pain, merging the malignance of the many soulless creatures with his own bitter resolve.
A subtle sound stirred beneath the chorus like a melodic hum, out of place in the grand finale of the song. The sound had its own life, its own breath, a magnificence of its own that demanded audience. Dracula's attention turned to the small beat, the rhythm swiftly pulsing in its own rage, its own hurt. The noise was not out of place within the context of the song, but it was not penned into the score. This hum itself did not swell in the passion or pulsations of life, having found sympathy instead in the quake and rage of the dark.
"Master…," Death whispered, but Dracula held up a long-fingered hand to summon silence.
A sharp knock sounded at the door, and Dracula's senses reveled in the sweet breath of life that forcefully, painfully, drew at the night. His chest constricted in mock apprehension, and a sensation of heat passed through his torso. The hand against the door pounded in time with the heart beat and then broke free, as if struggling for its own attendance with the dark lord. Dracula motioned for Death to answer the impatient call.
His devil forgemaster pushed past the silhouette of Death and settled himself onto his knees before the vampire lord's feet. Isaac bowed his head respectfully, but Dracula could sense the subtle tension in the movement of the neck. He raised his head to look into the vampire's face, his own face flushed and his light eyes flashing an internal anger.
Dracula slowly uncurled his fingers towards Isaac, motioning for the man to rise, "What is it now, Isaac?"
Isaac dropped pieces of his armor noisily before his own feet, his shirt fluttering down over top of the metal. "My lord, Hector has insinuated that loyalty is only as honorable as the symbol upon our backs." The leather on Isaac's arm groaned as the man curled his hand into a fist, "He insinuated that my loyalty to you is not a matter of permanence. I want to forever swear my devotion, here and now. Hector is wrong, my lord, I know it, and I will prove that to him."
Dracula's red eyes gleamed darkly, a smirk coolly forming upon his features. He revealed fangs as he spoke, "You wish me to turn you."
"No," Isaac startled slightly, his heart beat quickening.
"Then do not promise me forever, Isaac. You do not know the meaning of the word."
"My apologies, my lord," Isaac lowered his head in acknowledgment of the mistake. He looked back into the red eyes focused on him, "I do not want this fabric to be what binds me to your honor. I want to swear eternal loyalty to you so long as I have this body and this soul. Lord Dracula, I need the commitment branded into my flesh."
Amusement slowly crept into Dracula's dark features, his crimson eyes now focusing on the ornamental blade in the firm grasp of the young man before him. "What of the pain, Isaac?"
Isaac squeezed the hilt tighter, "The pain alone shall serve to bind my honor and loyalty to your will."
Dracula extended his hand out towards Isaac and purred, "Come here, Isaac."
Isaac hesitatingly took the first steps forward but seemingly took strength in the resolve of his purpose. A type of calmness seeped throughout his exterior appearance, but the beat of the man's wild heart presented itself in contrast to the vampire. A dark hunger stirred within him as Isaac moved closer, the promised heat of life breezing through cool, dead veins.
His hands wrapped gently around Isaac's wrists and pulled the devil forgemaster over the last few steps into his arms. Dracula pulled the man's body against his, hearing Isaac's heart constrict slightly at the sudden touch of cold that hungrily drew at the heat of life. He settled his lips against the crook of the other's neck, parting his lips slightly over the throat to let the tips of fangs dance across the taut flesh.
Isaac shivered in the vampire's arms, gasping when he scratched himself on his lord's fangs. His hand drew up to the beads of blood forming at his throat, but Dracula pulled Isaac's hand away and bore his teeth over the area. A low growled escaped his throat as he closed his mouth instead in speech, "This will hurt you, Isaac."
He slowly released Isaac's wrists and ran his fingers down towards the blade in the man's right hand. He gently tugged at the blade and eased the ritual knife out of his grip. Isaac's body seemed to relax against the cool direction of his lord's, tensing only the slightest when his lord began removing the rest of his armor from his chest.
Isaac let out a breath, his eyes slipping shut, "Yes, my eternal loyalty…."
Dracula swiftly pulled the man down across his knees so that his back was exposed to the vampire. Trailing long nails over the shoulder blades and down the spine, Dracula listened to Isaac's heart thump in trepidation as the man shivered occasionally. Dracula's hand trailed to the edge of Isaac's pants and slipped away. Holding up his own arm, Dracula placed the blade just under the wrist and cut a neat line into the pale flesh. A black liquid blossomed to the surface.
He pulled the blade away and let a bead of his deadened blood slip off the blade onto Isaac's back. His attention turned to the young man whose shoulder blades clenched as his body trembled violently. Dracula ran his nails over the strands of red sitting at the nape of Isaac's neck and followed the spine. Isaac's body tensed more and the devil forgemaster pulled his arms up to either side of his face, his arms shaking with the anticipation of pain. A smile turned the corner of Dracula's lips; he refused to tell the red-haired man that the blade would only bite more sharply along tight flesh.
Dracula pulled his hand away and turned the blade's attention to the center of Isaac's back. The blood from his slit wrist washed down over the knife and ran its tongue along the man's spine. Dracula let his eyes close for a moment, the words of the ancient ritual slowly bubbling out of memory and onto his lips. He lingered upon every word that passed his mouth, the knife twisting the cursed scrawl of the devil forgemaster across Isaac's flesh. His seal was to be birthed through his words, his blood, and the pained, crying screams of the man at his knees. But the mark on the back would only be the beginning.
"Stand up, Isaac," Dracula cooed quietly, his eyes shining brilliantly as they beheld the red-haired man's struggle to his feet. Isaac's breath came out in short, sharp gasps, his face drenched with sweat and tears. Dracula watched the red blood pool upon the floor just before his feet. He held out his palm towards Isaac, "Your arm, Isaac."
Isaac shook his head slowly, numbly, the sound of his heart thumping heavily filling the vampire's ears. Dracula softened his gaze, leaning forward to slowly lure Isaac back into his arms with a nudge to the back of the elbow.
Isaac came easily, his eyes closing, as his lord maneuvered his body into his lap. Dracula held Isaac's arm out, turning it over to study the light blue veins beneath the white flesh. Isaac opened his eyes wearily to study his own arm, but closed them as he pressed his face against the vampire's shoulder. Dracula pressed the blade back into his right wrist to freshen the flow of his own blood and then turned Isaac's arm out towards the ceiling.
The man's scream rose audibly as the ornamental knife bit into the soft flesh; he threw his head back and tears raced new down his face. Isaac bit his lower lip and moaned as he slowly rocked himself back and forth on his lord's lap. He buried his face into the high collar of black, satin robes and sobbed softly, failing to twist his arm free from the other's iron grasp.
Dracula turned his head slightly, whispering the ritualized words into Isaac's ear. The man's arm strained as he tried to twist his wrist loose again, and he sobbed violently against his lord when the motion failed a second time. Dracula raised the arm above Isaac's head and brought the knife to sink its teeth into the soft underarm. Isaac screamed, blood trailing over the broken skin of his lower lip.
Dracula pulled Isaac's arm back down in front of him and poured the blood from his own wrist freely over the new wounds. With his other hand, he pressed Isaac's face back against his shoulder and let the man try to master his wrought nerves. He pulled Isaac's wrist up to his lips and kissed the tense pulse that lay just underneath the surface. Isaac trembled violently.
Dracula beckoned Death to retrieve the precious metals he would need to pierce the devil forgemaster's body. Isaac picked up the slight rocking motion against his lap again, trying to collect his nerves in the manner of a small child. Dracula absently kissed the other's wrist, his mind focused on maintaining the ritual connection between Isaac and himself.
Death laid the box of metal piercings at Dracula's elbow. Dracula ran long fingers into the trove of jewels, burning with the cool sensation of power and potential. He allowed his fingers to delve through the assortment, finally coming to a rest on the silver metal that burned in response to the ritual. He removed the metal and held it up to his eyes. Turning it over, Dracula admired the fire and heat that burned along the silver surface.
He rested the tip against Isaac's arm and pushed the hooked end through the skin. Taking the next metal orb from Death's bony fingers, Dracula mimicked the motion, slowly wrapping the piercings around Isaac's arm.
Dracula smoothed his palms over Isaac's chest and guided the young man away from his shoulder. He wrapped his fingers under Isaac's knees and pulled the man's legs up around his sides. Dracula traced a finger over and between the cuts in the sides of Isaac's pants, searching pale, purple eyes that were painted in pain and numbness. Dracula's fingers wandered back up to the top of Isaac's pants and he slowly began to unfasten them.
He moved Isaac backwards out of his lap, and the pants slid sluggishly until they reached the top of Isaac's boots. Isaac shivered as the cold air wrapped its tendrils around areas virgin to its touch. Reaching out, Dracula's fingers scratched over Isaac's upper thigh and along the crevice where the leg meets the body. Isaac moaned softly, closing his eyes as Dracula's nails ran over the upper part of the pelvic that was barely considered decent.
Dracula motioned at Isaac's boots, "Remove them, Isaac."
Isaac complied, his hands moving slowly to remove each last article of clothes. He straightened his back and stood before Dracula as if completely embracing the freedom of his natural body. His eyes matched the gaze of his lord's. Letting out a breath, Isaac came forth of his own accord, climbing into Dracula's lap and straddling him. Dracula smirked bemused and rested his hands along Isaac's waist, a dark chuckle passing through closed lips.
He brushed the sacrificial knife to the bloody, marble floor, and it resounded with a hollow clatter that echoed in the room. Dracula pressed his finger nail tightly against Isaac's lower abdomen, indenting the flesh. He brushed stray, red bangs away from Isaac's sweat-covered forehead, "You flinch and cry when you are restricted, but you easily surrender yourself when you are free. You surrender yourself when the pain to bear is much greater."
Isaac blinked slowly in response, his newly marred hand reaching up to touch the vampire's face. Dracula pressed his nail down into Isaac's abdomen, beckoning the blood to rise up and meet his touch. Isaac's hand tensed against his cheek. Dracula smiled at him, slowly reciting the ritualistic words as he bathed in the warmth of the blood that spilled forth from Isaac.
A delighted hunger took pit deep within him, the scent of blood and the music of the heart beat caressing his instincts softly. Dracula stayed the hunger, bending and changing the sensation into one of controlled violence. Yet his senses sharpened themselves for the hunt as the hunger raged and reared under his control.
Dracula tensed at the touch of Isaac's shaky hand against his wrist. Isaac ran his index through the black fluid, smearing it across Dracula's arm and over onto his own leg. He continued to smooth his other hand over the vampire's face, outlining the cheek and moving his hand to cup under his lord's chin. Isaac placed his lips distractedly against the other's cold cheek.
Turning his head slightly, Dracula pressed his face against Isaac's exposed throat. He breathed in the perfume of heat and sweat that radiated from the man's neck. Dracula slowly ran his nail tauntingly closer to the man's pelvic, and Isaac's back arched. Isaac ran a hand over the side of Dracula's face, intent on following the pattern of his pointed ear, as his other hand shook against his lord's. Dracula smiled against Isaac's throat.
Isaac groaned and tightened his grip upon his lord's cooler hand as it inched indecently closer. Dracula pressed into Isaac deeper, his words smothering the moans that eased themselves from Isaac's stretched throat. He could feel the vibrations along the neck, a subtle chorus to blend with the voice of the man's pulse. Dracula's fangs grazed over the pulse of the vein as he arched the carving down towards the inner thigh.
Isaac choked on a cry that forced its way through to the air. At this point, the heat trailing along his face and neck could either have been tears or sweat. Chewing on his lip, Isaac's fingers intertwined within the vampire's long, flowing hair. He closed his eyes as another moan swelled into a scream.
Dracula's fangs bore down on Isaac's throat. The vampire growled lowly, slipping an arm around the man's lower back and pulling him against his own heaving chest. Curling his lips back, Dracula's heart raged with the warmth of the fresh blood that screamed through him with its own breath of life. Every sense in his body raised its voice, contracting and roaring like an inferno, the blood rousing life through the thin film of death that had long settled.
His fangs seeped deeper towards the vein, his instincts chanting him on melodically. The man tensed in his hold and Dracula could hear the heart beat quake with a crystalline purity. Isaac groaned and pressed warm hands against the other's chest. His foot slipped on the cobblestone and against his captor's leg, but Dracula easily maintained the weight of both of them.
Snarling at him, Dracula wrapped his fingers through red hair and forced Isaac to yield his throat to him. He pressed his lips closer to the flesh and drank in the sensations. Isaac's scream rose and chokingly broke off into strings of gasps, the man's chest rising sharply as if seizing and pining for oxygen. Dull nails scratched at Dracula's forearms, resting into a fist at the end of their path. Isaac finally found enough air to moan the other's name.
It was slipping. The mental connection formed between Dracula and Isaac during the ritual was beginning to strain. Dracula's brows knitted together; breaking a seal in the middle of its transgression could cost heavily. Isaac squirmed against Dracula. Dracula had dealt with the pressures of a ritual bonding before, but the cracking of the mental bond was most likely beginning to take toll on Isaac.
Taking a deep breath, Dracula began reigning in his carnivorous desires. Tensing against Isaac, Dracula pressed him even closer as he guided his energies towards the man. His powers flared angrily and Dracula sank his teeth deeper into Isaac's throat, attempting to meld the fresh flow of life in him with the other's life.
The air around the two of them stirred restlessly, whipping the black robes around the both of their legs. The blade lifted itself from off the floor and skidded across the cobblestone noisily; Isaac jumped against Dracula and his heart skipped. Dracula strained his powers again. Lifting itself from the floor once more, the blade hung limply in the air as if held loosely by some ethereal spectator. The knife slowly twisted in the air, catching the crimson gaze as the flickering flames of the candles glittered along the silver blade.
Dracula's powers finally stabilized, and his mind captured the words to the spell once more. Spinning a lazy somersault in the air, the blade dipped its blade down before diving towards the floor. It caught itself an inch before touching the ground. Turning its sharp belly towards the ceiling, the blade tipped itself in acknowledgement towards the pale, naked leg before it.
Isaac's voice cracked with a yelp. He tried to look down, but Dracula held him firmly in place. He was humming gently against the other's neck, his lips whispering words against the man's throat as he drank. Closing his fingers tightly against Dracula's forearms, Isaac began rocking himself in time with the hum of the words. He moaned long and slow, relaxing the muscles of his neck as he tilted his head back.
Dracula growled, his fingers finding their way down Isaac's chest and to his inner thigh. Isaac froze against him as nails penetrated the flesh, renewing the warm stream of blood that cascaded over and in between Dracula's fingers. He twisted and turned his nails in Isaac's flesh, deigning where the blade would stop its trail. Removing his fangs from Isaac's throat, Dracula began voicing the ritual aloud, his lips brushing gently over the dark crimson flow at the man's neck.
Dracula ran his tongue over his lips, tasting the blood still within the cavity of his mouth. The blood ran warmly down his chin and through the white of his beard, continuing a trail down over his own throat. His hand had, by now, found its way along Isaac's chest, and he traced the curling lines of the dragon's belly up the man's left side; his blood still tainting the new wounds.
Isaac shook uncontrollably, and he buried himself within the folds of Dracula's robes, tugging at the fabric as if he were simply cold. The marks Dracula made on Isaac's body were primarily guided by the interaction between their souls. The thin wisps of a line here and the thick boldness of another there were a matter of their souls' resonance, as preordained by the ritual. Although deep, the wounds would seal inevitably, and Isaac's body and soul, as he'd wished, would become one with Dracula's will.
Isaac's chest expanded and contracted sharply with each breath he took, and the man buried his face into Dracula's hair. He was no longer crying, probably a result of exhaustion and dehydration. The knife, having finished its play along Isaac's legs, laid itself quietly upon the arm of the throne.
Dracula's fingers twisted and turned, his blood corrupting the fresh, pink wounds and turning them black. He ran his hand up to the base of Isaac's throat and simply felt the two holes in the other's neck. The man in his lap seemed exhausted, no longer struggling underneath the strain or the pain of the ritual. Dracula forced his nails back into the flesh through the puncture wounds; he brought the twisting configuration to meet where he'd stopped previously on the chest.
Ending the design on Isaac's neck at his right shoulder, Dracula proceeded to remove another metal stone from within the box of jewels. He placed the first underneath Isaac's left rib, enunciating the words slowly as he penetrated the flesh. He rested another against the skin under the first, feeling the spoken word stir power into the little metal body. He marked the conclusion with a third orb to represent the trinity, a mock salute of alchemy to the commandment of the Holy Lord, Creator of All.
Dracula guided Isaac to his knees before him. He placed his palm over Isaac's face, running his thumb over the ivory skin above the man's brow. Isaac turned his head upwards towards Dracula and his eyes closed smoothly. His breathing, although still heavy, seemed to have quieted down and become steadier.
Dracula smirked, his other hand closing under Isaac's jaw. Turning his head sharply towards him, Dracula bent down to whisper into Isaac's ear, "You are mine now."
