Chapter 1

1999…

War is not glorious. Whoever said it was, was either a complete idiot, or lived in a much simpler time. In the year 1914, at the start of the first world war, thousands upon thousands of young men signed up for their country's armed forces to participate in the great war of their generation. It was time for the glorious warriors of their age to rise and prove their mettle. Or so they thought. Instead, thousands were decimated. Why? All because of the short sightedness of leaders who did not understand that war was evolving, and that sending your men charging into machine gun fire was not the way to end all wars. The First World War did not reveal any mighty champions. There were no victories spearheaded by that one warrior whose skill and charisma could lead men to incredible victories. There were no personal victories like in the olden days of knights charging the battlefield on horseback. Those days were long over. Yet as Corporal Neary watched the glitter of the whip swinging in the air, he could not help but be in awe. Its possessor gripped and lunged it masterfully. The whip slithered around its target and wrapped itself around it like a snake. With a precision of movement he has seen only in sculptors with their chisels, the whip master's hand commanded the whip and crushed his prey.

The chamber echoed with the sound of bones falling to the ground accompanied by the sound of a sword and shield which crashed beside them. Together they were once a fantastic foe. Now however they were just the remains of a reanimated corpse. The victor was equally fantastic and seemed to harken back to an older age, an age of fantastic heroes.

Julius Belmont wrapped the whip around the upper arm of his leather coat before fitting it onto a latch on his belt. "Argh!" he exclaimed.

"What is it?"

"Skull dust," he answered. "Whenever I bust a lot of these skull guys I get covered in dust from their bones." Like a school boy cleaning an eraser, Julius began to clap on his coat. "It's annoying and terribly difficult to wash out of this coat," he added.

Neary watched him somewhat unbelievably while he heard snickers and snorts coming from his three compatriots behind him. Julius seemed to notice he was being laughed at and turned his attention to them.

"Now, what are you lot doing here?" asked taking on a stern tone.

"Sir?"

"The military has clear orders to stay on the ground levels of the castle. I can't guarantee the safety of my companions let alone the whole army."

"And where are…?" Neary started but was cut off.

"I don't know," Julius said. His tone became somber. He was a very young man, but suddenly his face took on a much older countenance. "I'm sure they'll turn up," he added finally as if trying to convince himself that he knew his words to be true. "Now how did you get here," he said gesturing to the large chamber they all stood in.

It was surprising that Julius' words could be heard at all with all the machinery that surrounded them. Hundreds upon hundred of cogs, motors, and other moving parts created a symphony of ticks and tocks in what appeared to be the interior of a clock tower.

"Sorry, sir. We were reconnoitering when suddenly a band of Mer-Men cornered us into a weird chamber. It had this bright light and a domed ceiling."

"It was probably a teleportation room. They're scattered throughout the castle. They link far apart areas."

"Where are we?" asked one of the other soldiers behind Neary.

"This is the clock tower, its home to these skeletal warriors, harpys, and Medusa-Heads…among other things. Right now my objective is to get you gentlemen back to your division. I will advise you your men to be careful what you shoot at. Not everything here reacts well to bullets."

With that, Julius turned and gestured for them all to follow him. The group proceeded to exit their current chamber and entered a vertical area made up of incredibly sized cogs. Some spun slowly while others were dizzying to watch. They were at the bottom of this particular chamber. Julius silently pointed upwards to a short outcropping at the top indicating this was their destination. Although as soldiers they were all well trained in the art of climbing, their expressions all communicated to one another their awe at the complexity of their task. This seemed more like an obstacle course for an Olympian athlete than for a soldier.

Unlatching his whip, Julius proceeded to attack a nearby cog which was motionless. As he struck it, the cog spun making a clicking sound. The soldiers observed his seemingly random attack on this piece. The sound of something unlocking at last gave away Julius' intent. The cog was a switch, once activated they saw how the faster moving cogs slowed and changed direction.

All of the cogs had either poles extending outwards or some other fitting which could be used to grip. Julius approached one of the nearby cogs and jumped upwards grabbing hold of one of the rotating poles. The cog slowly elevated into a position ideal for him to jump onto another cog which spun horizontally. Once safely on firm ground, he looked down and signaled for the other to follow suit.

The soldiers were not accustomed to these acrobatics and took some time reaching him. By then, Julius had moved on climbing onto another cog. Thus the group made progress climbing this area of the clock tower. At a certain point, Julius left the soldiers behind as he continued to show the way upwards. Neary stood in the center of a horizontal cog watching as one of his men reached down to help one of his comrades up. His gaze wandered from his compatriots and he found himself becoming slightly dizzy as the cog spun round endlessly. A sudden scream broke him from his trance. Instantly he looked towards the soldier still reaching downwards and rushed forward to his aid.

"O'Neil, what's taking so long to bring him up?" he yelled as he kneeled beside the soldier. Looking over the edge of the cog Neary found one of his soldiers hanging helplessly onto his comrade's grip. His spare arm and legs flayed wildly. The look on his face was filled with terror.

"Damn it, man, get grip so we can…" Neary suddenly looked to his side. His hand went to his mouth as he attempted to hold back the urge to add his scream to his comrades. O'Neil's face was frozen in an expression of pure terror staring not downwards but straight ahead. However it was not just his face that had been frozen, but his entire body. Neary touched On'Neil's arm with the tips of his fingers. They were petrified. He had been turned completely into stone. The soldier below was trapped in O'Neil's stone grip. Neary followed O'Neil's stone gaze and gasped in horror.

Floating towards him was a face unlike any he had seen before. The dark green skin was disturbingly natural, not like the kind you see painted on actors in movies. It had no eyes to be seen, instead just two empty sockets. What at first appeared to be a long mane of hair whisking in the air were in fact half a dozen snakes. The snakes hissed at Neary as the face of Medusa moaned.

Neary's hand instinctively went for his side arm and he unloaded a full clip into the approaching Medusa-Head. The creature exploded into a mass of goo which splattered all over him. In a panic, his hand searched for another magazine. Another one was already approaching. The sound of leather clashing with flesh announced another splatter of goo drowning him.

"Get out of here, I'll take care of these," Julius hollered at him while also pulling him off the ground.

"What about…" Neary began.

"If they're still alive, I'll get your men. Now go, behind me, up the chain to the outcropping. There's an opening there. Stay in the hall and do nothing!"

Without another word, Neary did as he instructed. As he entered the hall which Julius had directed him to, he leaned against the wall catching his breath. Eventually he found himself sliding down to the ground and entering a fetal-like position.

"This place is hell," he said to himself. There was nothing in his training to prepare him for ghouls and goblins. He was a soldier for God's sake not Van Helsing! He killed other soldiers, he didn't shoot at things that were already dead. Anxiety began to take over Neary's thoughts. He could not stop thinking about the impossibility of his situation. Nothing could drive the images of the monsters he had seen from his mind. And behind it all was the incessant ticking! Lifting his head, he took in his surroundings. The hall was not as massive as the chambers he had seen before. In fact it seemed to him the smallest chamber he had seen in the whole castle. The walls on either side were decorated with a long line of grandfather clocks. All of them ticked and tocked. Their pendulums swung from side to side in an exact and synchronized motion. All except one. Neary walked towards this clock to study it. It was in the exact center in its row of clocks. It's pendulum swung in the opposite direction. The second hand also seemed to be moving in reverse. As he studied it, Neary became aware that he too was under observation.

Gently craning his head to his side, he found that his observer was much shorter than he was. Dwarf sized in fact. In one swift motion his hand went for his pistol, he turned and fired.

The shot echoed, but not in the normal way, in reverse seemingly. There was a flash of light and Neary was no longer standing in front of the center clock. Down the hall, standing where he had been was a small rabbit dressed in long tailed coat. In its hand was a waistcoat watch. Its other hand was reaching into his coat. The rabbit pulled its hand out and revealed its furry paw stained brilliant red.

"What the hell have you done?" Neary heard Julius call out furiously as he came rushing into the hall, alone.

"It came up behind me."

"I said do nothing!"

A sudden vibration rocked them both off their feet. The vibration continued.

"It was just a rabbit…"

"No," Julius said gravely, "it was a Chronomage."