Thirteenth of the month.
They were really fanatics who counted well. D looked up to see that the moon was as the shining orb they predicted, its light blotched with haze. Still, it was the moon on a clear sky and it was the only light they allowed to illuminate the old, forgotten castle where they promised to meet.
The old castle was even stuff of old medieval legends. Its old walls were made of quarry stones that already gave way before good mortar that would stick them together would even be invented. D held on to the little crevices that surrounded the walls of the narrow and slippery path that he climbed. It was on the top floor. His plae white hands drew sharp contrast to the murky bricks stained with moss. However, his boots were not as durable as to cling itself on the soft path.
"Careful! Don't you ever watch where you're going?" Hand complained when he slipped.
The pointed ceiling of the upper floor and the stained glass windows were reminiscent of Gothic architecture. The top floor was more legendary than the unwelcoming and God-forsaken entrances that he took, it was almost worth it to be there. Almost. Upon opening the heavy wooden door, D was greeted with a musky stench made by the old velvet that lined the walls. Or was it because of that old man who stood there? A man whose limbs were too thin that both would fit into D's own hand. The light that came from the windows shone only on what was prominent -- that is, the sharp angles shaped by his skull which is wide forehead and cheekbones, prominent only because of one's thinness. It was only when he lifted his chin that D saw the grotesque white in his eyes.
"You came." He said simply.
That was when he heard footsteps from the dark. Some were light and fast. One was huge and paced with slow rhythm. And yet, they expected someone else who would not come from either direction.
D looked up to hear the familiar sound that followed him as he climbed through the ruined path. It was the same cadence of quick and furious beats of legs that scaled through the wall. And now, it is scaling along the stained glass windows and everyone who was there could see the dark shadow of a figure with all four of its limbs stretched out to hug onto its vertical support. And in that instant, he smashed the entire window with its body, making a good landing on level ground right now. Still standing on its four limbs like a human spider, except it had abundant mass of black hair on all its limbs. The sound of its hiss made Hand gasp and D could feel him shiver.
"What is the problem?" He heard a hoarse voice ask. "Too dark? Need a light?"
And true enough, the one who spoke was most helpful for he made his body combust in flames, and was selfless enough not to consider his own pain in doing so, seeing that the inner strands of his muscles were visible from being burnt that bad. There was no hair left to burn in any part at all nor was it necessary to wear any kind of clothing. What he did wear was his a smile so sinister because of a miracle that all his teeth were still intact.
One. Two. Three. Four. There still lacked one more. And it was actually that one who he wished to see.
"He is not coming," the woman, with flowing hair the color of dark moss spoke. She was the most normal looking creature out of all of them. And even the thin, vertical pupil of her emerald colored eyes made her look more alluring as a human instead of like a cat. "He is... inspecting various matters. He is not one to be bothered."
D purposely ignored the remark like it was never spoken. One. Two. Three. Four. They all stared at him like he was an outsider. Someone who is never fit to be in their circle. He nodded to acknowledge what seemed to appear as their unified gaze of disapproval, and flipped his coat to turn the other way. Back to that God-forsaken tunnel he arduously climbed.
"At least report your progress!" The fiery torch asked, his flames more ablaze with his temper.
"Do you... have any progress?" D returned the question without looking back.
There was no answer.
"Maybe he has."
No one in that circle took the God-forsaken, slippery path except for the dunpeal.
****************************
"Do you think it's wise to make them mad, D? They're j-just... they're just very powerful."
But he had ignored all of Hand's apprehensions, including walking under the afternoon sun for almost four hours, simply relying on his tightly covered black costume to shield himself from all its danger. He actually wanted the convenience of being able to see everything so clearly apart from that hazy full moon episode. The One he wanted was not there to see him and only sent the rest of his dismal entourage to find out his supposed progress. Despite their leader not being there, was not it clear to them that he always worked alone? Save for that Parasite in his hand, of course.
And there he found it. The estate of the Castans now looked like a sprawling desert, and only had a few remnants of the plantations that once stood during its grandeur. The huge watchtower had a creaking ladder that was never replaced since the day it was built, but they still continued the tradition of stationing a guard with a cheap, usable rifle on it. One more on the balcony overlooking the garden entrance and two who stood at the receiving area of its chief resident. The guards only let him inside after giving him a fierce look and that would be enough because they knew he could never be touched.
"So you are the bounty hunter." It was the chief, the one they called Lord Nicholas, who sat in his mechanical wheelchair, his dirty black hair porous from a cheap dye job and even the white hair of his age showed on his moustache.
D did not nod nor say any kind of greeting despite the title owed by the man in front of him. And Lord Nicholas understood immediately. He waved his hand for the earlier instruction and one of his men placed a heavy bag of gold pieces at D's feet. It was not obvious to his men, but the dunpeal could see the old lord's wrinkled brow where his moustache failed to hide his grin. That would be the only time the bounty hunter bowed down in front of this lord, when he reached for the payment that was due him.
"This is not what we agreed on," D protested impassively, easily judging from the weight that he carried.
The old lord pressed a button on his wheelchair to rotate his wheels to make a full turn in order to avoid his view. "I am sorry," he apologized. "But I do not have enough."
"What we had agreed on was 700 gold pieces."
"700 gold pieces?!" The old man shouted, coughing from the effort he just exerted. "You have not done anything! Where is my son?"
"This is what we have agreed on. 700 pieces for the first and if I find him--"
"700 pieces is too much. I have only to doubt your reputation and then I would not use your services."
"That is not a problem." He said, dropping the bag that contained deficient funds for his services. "I shall be on my way."
"Wait!" The lord called out, almost climbing out of his steel wheelchair in order to stop him. He waved his hand for another earlier instruction to call for the other attendant to come out and get the faulty bag from the floor, while carrying another one on his arm. Lord Nicholas closed his eyes in frustration, rubbed his temples with his wrinkly fingers and hesitantly said, "This is all I have. Please bring back my son... and heir."
And as his attendant handed the bags of gold to him, D continued to state his contract. "And if I find that he has changed, I have to--"
"He won't." Nicholas protested, banging his hand on the armrest. "Make sure he does not."
"I-I... cannot guarantee that."
Lord Nicholas sighed, waved his hand this time at the bounty hunter he had hired to bade him go. But he was already beyond the front door even before the nobleman's instruction, with the two bags of gold safely tucked by his left arm. He walked slowly towards the garage where his horse waited because it was already late afternoon, and the sun was not as harsh.
And it was also because he had heard the sound of light footsteps following him. "Monsieur D," it said. "Can you really save my brother?"
"Like I told your father, I cannot--"
But even before he could finish his statement, a strong flash of light blinded him for a moment, leaving him paralyzed for seconds of blindness. He could make out a small figure of her who stood her, in little blotches of gray. A small slender figure whose voice did not sound meek for a woman at all.
"I was hoping that you could bring this with you. Please, Monsieur D?" The darkness was lifted, and it was just as fitting to reveal what he thought was a gothic angel, dressed in a fitting robe of white satin. Her hair was the darkest cinnamon and the red afternoon sky revealed that it had hints of purple, like the eerie comeliness of her eyes. "It's quite effective, isn't it?"
"What is effective?" He was careful not to stare directly at her eyes because the last beautiful one he saw was the vampire enslaved for bloodlust. And she was as alluringly dangerous despite constant assurances of not having any kind of attraction.
"This," she said, pointing to a box she was holding. "It blinds all kinds of creatures -- animals, humans, vampires.... shall I demonstrate it again?" She asked, placing her middle finger on the lid.
"No," he said, placing his hand on hers. She looked straight at him, her dark purple eyes already thanking him and guiltily, he snagged the box from her grasp and hid it with the baggage along with the gold pieces on his horse.
"I want to be... of great help to you," she said sheepishly.
He only continued to arrange the baggage on his horse.
"My brother is the heir to this estate... He is very important to us. And I know that matter is of no consequence to you, but... "
He looked back at her, his left foot ready to mount his horse.
"... My brother is still up North. Just a few miles from this estate. You will see an old railway station. The... vampire ... who is keeping him is still there. I don't know if he is still alive. I just know of the one who keeps him."
He kicked his horse a little to pick up the pace he wanted. It was not his practice to listen to rumors. Nor was at his practice to look back and see its source. But when he did, he saw that she was not standing there anymore.
****************************
"So... you're listening to that girl, aren't you, D?" Hand taunted, laughing. "She's quite a looker, isn't she?"
He squeezed the Hand with his fingers. Proceeding on a hunch, surely this was not like him. And she was wrong. From the looks of it, it was not an old railway station. There was simply one or two abandoned lodges out there with no sign of any presence. No sound of any retreat from hearing his steps too.
"Hand," D instructed. "Can you sense anything?"
"No," it coughed from the suffocation of his palm. "Nothing. Fine. Fine. So that beautiful old witch is wrong. Sue me."
"What?"
"I said, 'Nothing.' I don't find anything out here!"
"No... about her.. what did you say?"
They heard an eerie moan. It was definitely coming from the cabin. As they got closer and closer, the sound was no longer muffled to make out the words. Help... help me... I am inside....
As he was to kick off the cabin, the door immediately burst open. His horse neighed in surprise. A young man ran frantically, his clothes in tatters and his blonde hair cut off in horrendous fashion that there were huge spots of bloody wounds still fresh and open on his head. D could see the horror from which he ran off. He stood on the roof of the cabin like the strangely familiar figure he saw -- as it stood there looming over him on all fours.
"Help!! Help me!!!" The man shouted. "He's a lord!! My father!! He is a lord of this town!!"
"D! Watch out!" Hand shouted.
The spider creature stretched out of its limbs, and he had succesfully dodged its attack by jumping off of his horse. The horse neighed frantically in horror, as the strength of the creature thumped on the cabin's roof, knocking down its weak foundations. And still on its fours, it jumped down to where the dunpeal had landed, as if it forgot that this was once the ally he had met that night on the full moon.
D struggled to get back on his feet. He lay there, leaning on his elbows, as his sight tried to search for the one he had tried to rescue from an assailant he had never meant to kill. The spider creature still loomed in front of him, swaying on all its fours as a warning for him not to rise up and take its prey.
"Help me!!!" The young Castan heir continued to shout, at a loss of where to run to, and losing his balance in the process.
It was at that moment that the dunpeal took the opportunity to lever himself up, to grab his sword and lunge at the one barring his way. But the creature was too quick and fast that it jumped quickly to one side, kicking on his horse, and successfully attaining a perfect landing almost behind him. And though he was quick to respond, D noticed the small silver box that was his present to help him in this mission. The box lay conveniently nearer at the foot of the creature and seeing that the dunpeal was not anymore an ally at this point, his worried gaze on the box before him was a warning he took.
D tried his best to avert his eyes once the creature pushed its limbs to strike the box towards his direction. He only heard the faint cries of help by the young heir asking for his father moving farther and farther away. It was still a good long moment before the darkness evolved into gray sights. He knelt on his knees in desperation, his other hand leaning on the ground for support. And it was only then that his hand felt the cold rusted metal, hidden underneath all the dried up mud.
When his eyes finally saw the colors of the dark night, he looked down and edged the mud off from its secret treasure.
They were railroad tracks.
****************************
The old man tried his best to hide his astonishment. "You meant to say that..." he coughed. "You found my son."
D nodded. "I have."
"So he has not changed? Will you bring him back."
"Only upon the assurance of payment with our deal."
"What?" Old Nicholas coughed as soon as he shouted again. "I do not have anymore money save for this estate! I cannot give you another 700 gold pieces!"
No answer.
"Please... will you be heartless? Haven't you ever had a son? This is my heir! And a vampire has taken him!"
Still no answer.
"Well.." the old man began, tears welling up in his eyes. "Will you ... take... 300 gold pieces?"
The bounty hunter still did not answer. He turned his back on the old lord and knew the place where the exit was.
"Please, sir... That is all I have...."
He stopped walking. "Would you be willing to give me anything in exchange for your son?"
The old man nodded. "Yes... yes.... take all my gold. Take all the 300 pieces that I have left. Leave us to starve. Take it."
"There is... something else... that I would want to take."
D turned to see the old lord's forehead was crinkled in the smile of happiness he concealed. And he could clearly see that he bore no likeness whatsoever.