Wow! It has been forever since Ive posted something, hasn't it!? Good grief, I've been lazy! Well, here it is, the result of a fair bit of work and all. This is only the beginning, and hopeful, I'll get in a good amount of chapters before I leave...but where am I going? Maybe I'll reveal that in the next chapter! P.S. To all you Vampire Hunter D fans who I know are thinking to yourselves, 'D would never travel with anyone else' I swear to you, I have a reason for it. You just gotta trust me on this, okay? I am a huge D purist, and would not be doing this if I didn't know what I was doing, so please, please, please don't fan-flame me, alright? Thank you kindly !

Prologue

The streets were silent, heavy, devoid of motion or sound, besides the occasional rustling of forgotten refuse, or the sound of some stray animal padding through a puddle of stagnant water that lay in the cobblestone roads. The silence which pervaded the moonlit streets seemed to have a life of its own, as it flowed into every corner and alleyway, blanketing the city in its eerie and inescapable grasp. The air was warm and damp, heavy with the scent of yet another rain storm, and the clouds above the small town only confirmed this. Windows were shut and barred, the doors, locked and bolted to not only ensure the security against the darkness that invaded the streets, but also in a hopes of keeping those inside from leaving as well. As strange and unusual as this idea may have seemed to a passing stranger, it was nothing new to the townsfolk, who knew that after dark was when she would come.

It had been three months right down to the day since she had arrived, and at first, she was welcomed as warmly as anyone other new member of the community would have been. Beautiful blonde hair, with a dazzling smile, deep exotic eyes, and a heart that seemed as free as a bird, and as pure as crystal, she wove her way into the peoples' lives. Then, when she had become ensconced as the owner of a cute little shop of lucky charms and medicines, the first incident occurred. Most would have blamed it on sheer clumsiness for no one who would have done such a thing would have willingly left evidence of it. A passing officer had seen the small figure through the glass, and demanded immediate entry, after collecting some others from the guard of the town. But by the time they had gained entry and they had inspected the body, the woman they had thought was so darling was gone without a trace.

And it was on that day their troubles began.

For the next two months, anyone who had any reason to go out after dark quickly forgot about it, and children, even orphans who huddled in alleyways in the dark of the night, found more enclosed and protected places in the church or even the cemetery if they were desperate. For it then and there became known that they had a witch amongst them, and no child was safe after the moon rose in the sky.

And so, as this particular evening drew to its highest point, though the moon was hidden by the clouds, an estranged silhouette seemed to appear out of thin air in the central square. The fountain there, stilled for the evening, became her place to sit, and as she drew back the hood of her long, velvety black cloak, the woman raised her hands higher, ending the motion with a swift flick.

To any who were keen of hearing, it would have sounded like a continual, reverberating click that went up over the city, coming from every doorway of every home. Though, that first initial sound went unnoticed by all the inhabitants, for they were all sound asleep, convinced that their families and children were protected, another sound arose from the center of the city, this time, attracting every tiny ear within the city limits.

Come little children, I'll take thee away...Into a land, of enchantment...

The sweet and haunting melody floated through the city, brushing each window with a taunting touch and enticing the younger inhabitants within to emerge. And, defenseless against such an enchantment, they did. Doors, opened soundlessly and revealed their young residents, who came out in night clothes and gowns, and began plodding, bare-foot, through the streets through the streets and cobblestone roads, their tiny, sleepy eyes distant, and faces holding entranced smiles. Slowly, the growing crowd made their way towards their caller, each one blissfully unaware of the dark end that their sleepwalking would lead them too.

However, it was not just the children who were present this night, for there were three other, tall, dark, distinct outlines, posed under attentive surveillance from the roof-top veranda of the city hall, watching the witch turned vampire lure her prey into her arms. All three of them, as silent as the grave, their eyes cold and stern, each one understanding their role in tonight's hunt. The storm clouds rolled overhead, swirling heavily with the rain that was ready to burst upon the city at any moment. But none among the small group paid the clouds a single moment of attention, even when the first drops fell upon the wide-brimmed hat of the oldest amongst them.

He, despite his age, was the most beautiful among them, his young, pale face glowing with an unearthly light, his eyes as deep as the sea, and yet just as emotionless. Cold and distant, they gazed upon the beauty below with a hard determination, the sort of look they only had when facing one of her kind. And though the gleam in them was powerful, the potent orbs turned to the other two beside him, regarding the same, icy glare the two wore. The wind brushing a loose strand of black hair from his face, he spoke in a low whisper, and though the two men did not respond in any way, he knew they heard him perfectly.

"We scissor from both sides...Vincent, move in from the front...Alucard, from the rear..."

The man designated as Vincent simply nodded his own head of fine black hair, his red eyes narrowing, his legs coiling ever so slightly for a spring. With a single, feline motion, the man went through the air and disappeared into a side street, and though his boots were made of a dull gold material, they made not a sound as they touched the grimy stones below. And though no human could have hoped to become aware of the man's sudden emergence into the dark town square, the vampiress did.

Turning her own sultry eyes upon him, she looked him over, a bit surprised her spell had worked upon him as well. But she guessed that he was more then likely younger then he looked, for his pale face was that of at a man in his mid-twenties. He was handsome to be sure, though, and so, she had no qualms with him coming to her in a trance-like state, just like the rest of her victims. The red cape that billowed around his lithe form was like a beacon in the night, and the woman answered the call, rising from her seat on the stone of the fountain, and swept forward to meet him, his voice still singing, caressing his ears and mind.

But Vincent was immune to such temptations, or at least those that were this feeble. His resistance could only stand so much, but a newly made vampiress like this was nothing. He stood there, his eyes wide, full of false stupidity, as the woman fondled his shoulders, her lips drifting over his neck, kissing it over and over again, before the fangs, like two white daggers, revealed themselves. The tips slid across the skin, readying them to pierce the soft, pale flesh, when suddenly, the woman recoiled. There upon the neck of the man's neck was a set of two, small holes; the mark of a vampire.

But the woman had little time to become enraged by this trick, for as she moved to lash out, a second form materialized out of the very mists of streets, this man the same height as the first, though his bearing was incredibly regal, like a dark prince amongst hunters. Pale, blonde hair fell about in thick curtains around his pointed features, the air surrounding him weighted with authority. Dressed in a rich, black coat, trimmed with golden thread, covered by a heavy cape, held upon the man's shoulders by a silver chain. He extended a black-gloved hand, and in his grasp formed a spear that shone in the dim light like a silvery ray of the moon, the head intricate and beautiful, and yet ultimately deadly.

It was with this spear that the stately man shot forward, piercing the woman directly through the heart, and with a scream, the witch saw the gorgeous head of the spear sticking out of her chest. Blood dripped from the tip of the weapon, and as she dropped to her knees, she wore of look not of horror, but of anger. That anger, though, turned into a mixture of vengeance and delight, for when the spear was withdrawn, a spray of blood erupted from the wound. It burst into the air, mingling with the small drizzle of rain, before becoming a crimson fog that drifted overhead, taunting the two below as it swirled above the heads of the children.

The hunters had seen this before. It was a method of preservation for those with magical powers. By sending their spirits out of their body at the time of death, they could possess another host almost immediately upon entering the body, regardless of how strong they may have been. It descended on the two, aiming like a scarlet ribbon of malice at the blonde haired man who had struck her down. But the fair haired man showed no signs of fear, his face stoic and emotionless. It was impossible to tell if this surprised the mist-borne spirit, for in another moment, a wind struck up with resounding fury. It pulled upon the cloud, drawing away from the hunter just as it was within reach, reeling it in like a fish, until it was drawn to the source of the suction; the mouth of a ghastly face, which had grown right out of the hand of the eldest hunter. A high scream filled the air, as the last of the red fog was drawn into the opening, and the vampire hunter known only a D clasped his palm tightly.

A silent moment passed, and the light drizzle of rain grew to a small downpour. The three men stood in the square, surrounded by children awakening from what seemed like a dream. In the sound of the young voices calling out to each other and their parents, wondering what they were doing out in the rain in their nightclothes, a voice went almost unheard, except by the three heroes of the small town. A voice that emanated from D's left palm.

"I swear, the stuff you three make me eat..." it muttered irritably. "A pack of slave drivers is what you all are!"