Dracula/Seraph of the End AU.
5 May 1897.
In the lobby of the Golden Crone Hotel, Yu tapped his foot impatiently. His eyes meandered over the décor. The hotel was very crone-like, given how old and battered it was. However, it wasn't the slightest bit "golden." It was nothing like the pricier places they stayed earlier in their trip. Animal-skin rugs decorated the thick carpet of the floor and covered up stains from who-knows-what. Several of them were torn or poked or decorated with a bullet hole or two. The walls consisted of brick and wood without any paint or finish. The place reeked of weird odors and animal smells that Yu couldn't quite place and was not sure he wanted to. It reminded him a little of the slums he grew up in but with a keener emphasis on the law of the jungle.
The message was clear: If you were weak or unaware or just plain unlucky, you might end up decorating someone's floor.
Sadly, this was still the nicest place in town.
Yu perked up as he heard a yawning Guren trudged the creaky stairs.
"Guren! We were supposed to meet here half an hour ago! You always nag at me when I'm not on time."
Guren yawned. Considering how tardy transportation was in this area, he wasn't worried about missing their ride. "Don't sass your superiors, boy. Is everything ready?"
"Yes. It's not like there was much to do," said Yu with a glower. Faint gray shadows lined his eyes.
Guren blinked lazily at him. It seemed all the traveling was grating on Yu's temper.
"Don't worry, Yu. Once we get there, you can run outside in the woods with the werewolves all you want," he said with a wry smirk, which was then erased by another yawn. Muscle-heads like Yu needed to exercise more to work off their energy. Maybe Guren should pack more luggage for him next time.
"Werewolves?" asked Yu with a snort, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah. And then, you can nap as much as you want without worrying about anymore rough carriage rides making it hard for you to sit the next day." Although they had traveled via boat, train, and, rarely, carriage, the carriage was the worst by far. Unfortunately, it was the best they could get out here in the country, so far from modern civilization and modern-day cities. Those rough carriage rides had even made the stony-faced Guren flinch and walk unsteady afterwards. Although Yu suffered too, he delighted in seeing Guren's hard-boiled attitude crack.
"Who said I was tired?" snapped Yu. "Are you ready or not?"
"Yeah, yeah…"
They stepped outside and gazed up at the dark gray sky. The thunder in the distance lent an eerie and unwanted rumble, giving an undertone of foreboding to their voyage. Yu uneasily looked over his shoulder into the distance, but Guren remained as nonplussed as ever.
Yu helped the coachman strap their luggage on top of the carriage and entered it, joining another passenger. A few others boarded. When Guren told the coachman they wanted to be dropped off at the Borgo Pass to meet Count Bathory, the coachman's expression stiffened. However, he ultimately nodded and then focused on straightening up his horses.
Guren looked around. An elderly man with wrinkled skin somberly drew a cross on his chest as he faced Guren and then walked away. The younger man with him repeated the motion. He passed by a woman and whispered to her, and then she drew the cross as well.
Guren raised an eyebrow, wondering if Yu noticed how superstitious the locals were about their destination. Then again, it was Yu he was thinking about here.
Within seconds, the people on the street cleared out and watched Guren from the windows of their homes. After a moment, a young woman with a voluptuous chest and wavy brown hair pulled back into a bun stepped out of the hotel. Guren recognized her as the woman who delivered a letter to him from the count when he arrived. Her name was Sayuri, an eligible young woman, who worked at the front desk of the hotel. Last night, she chatted with him for several minutes. Although she hardly knew him, she mentioned she had always been waiting for the right man and thought foreigners were exotic. She twisted her hair around her fingers and batted her eyelashes at him until he finally managed to escape her by saying he needed his beauty sleep. Unlike her flirtatious attitude last night, she appeared morose this morning.
"Um, Mr. Ichinose," she said, fidgeting with her fingers as her large brown eyes kept glancing at the handsome Japanese man. "You don't mean to go there today, right? I mean, you know the date…" She nervously looked at her hands, as though torn between revealing too much or revealing nothing at all.
"May 5th."
"No… I mean, that's true, but…. it's St. George's Day. Mr. Ichinose, you're not from around here, so maybe you don't know…. At the stroke of midnight, unspeakable evils are said to rise and have sway over the world."
"Is that right? Well, thanks for the concern, Miss Sayuri."
Her expression lit up. "You remembered my name?! Oh, I mean, of course you did," she said with an obvious blush. "You are extraordinarily intelligent after all…."
"I really must be going," said Guren, interrupting her musings as he turned away.
"No, wait! You really shouldn't go. Surely, you can wait a few more days?" The alarmed woman bit her lips anxiously.
Guren thought of being trapped in close quarters with a stir-crazy Yu for a few more days.
"I can't."
Her expression shattered, and she almost looked like she was going to cry.
"Mr. Ichinose, you absolutely cannot go! You cannot! You will never return! Do you even know how to protect yourself against such evil?!"
Guren sighed. "I see your point. You are very concerned for our safety… In that case, we can go sight-seeing in Bukovina instead of stopping at the Borgo Pass for now. I will send a note saying we had to take a detour," he lied with a muted expression. "It has been a long journey in a foreign land, so I'm sure the count will understand."
Relief made her shoulders feel twenty pounds lighter, and she smiled gratefully. Tears dripped out of her pretty eyes, and she quickly wiped them away.
"Waiting a few days is definitely for the best. Even so, you are a foreigner…" She lifted the rosary from her neck and placed it on Guren.
He glanced warily at the religious beads decorating his neck. "This isn't necessary."
"Please, Mr. Ichinose…"
"It looks important. How can I take something like this from you?"
"Mr. Ichinose, it will serve its purpose this way. It is meant to fight evil. It will protect you and your assistant."
Guren sighed. "Alright. Thank you for your gift." He hoped this would be enough to placate her. There was no way he could wear this into the castle.
"Best of luck and blessings to you, Mr. Ichinose," said Sayuri tearfully. She forced a smile. "Please stop by on your return trip and tell me how things went."
"Sure. No problem," lied Guren once again.
After her tearful farewell, Guren joined Yu in the coach. Yu's lips stretched out in a grin.
"Nice necklace. I didn't know you were into jewelry, Guren."
Guren took off the rosary and chucked it at him. Yu caught it easily. "It's supposed to protect you from ghosts," he said, lazily settling back against the bench.
"Ghosts?" Yu frowned and looked at the cross, turning it in his fingers. "Is the castle haunted?"
"Who knows? It's old. A lot of people died there over the years."
Yu raised an eyebrow before stuffing the rosary in his pocket. The rest of the passengers entered the coach, and they left the town.
Yu managed to wedge himself next to a window. His green eyes took in the sloping greenery of forest, woods, and hills. After an hour, the greens gave way to grays and blues with deep purples in the recesses of jagged rocks and pointed crags. Snow-covered mountains decorated the distance—or Yu imagined they did. The skies were so gray, it was hard to tell. The temperature dropped as evening set in, and Yu folded his arms.
The serpentine road kept the passengers sliding side-to-side and slamming into each other, and Yu began feeling claustrophobic next to his 300-pound Romanian neighbor. Guren managed to sit between a pair of young women and gave a smug smirk from where he sat. Yu glowered at him.
Yu attempted to raise his middle finger at Guren until another lurch made Yu's neighbor flatten him against the wall.
The thunder loomed closer. The carriage began to slow down, and Yu took a moment to catch his breath.
The passengers grew silent. The coachman made a show of looking around and looked at his watch.
Guren poked his head out. "Is this Borgo Pass?"
The coachman didn't answer him and continued looking around. As if talking to himself, he muttered, "There's no carriage here, so no one must be waiting here after all. We shall continue onto Bukovina, and the guests here can return in a few days instead."
Before they departed, the horses suddenly became agitated and kept pacing as if they wanted to make haste. The coachman cursed and tried to calm them.
The people inside the carriage leaned far away from the door, pinning Yu against the far wall until he stood up to escape. The ruckus ended abruptly with the sound of approaching hoofbeats, the familiar sound somehow making the hairs on Yu's neck stand up.
A black calèche with four coal-colored horses pulled up beside them as if born from the darkness itself. The coachman's lamp flickered as it swayed. Guren saw a tall, muscular man with ruby-colored bangs and a braid of dark mahogany smile cheekily down at the coachman.
"You are a little early tonight, my dear friend," said the muscular man as his regal black carriage slowed.
"Y-Yes," stuttered the coachman. He avoided eye contact with the man. "We were in quite a hurry to get through before—"
The muscular man gave a dry laugh. "Sure. And I suppose you waited quite a good while before scurrying off to Bukovina? How fortunate I managed to get here in time. My horses are awfully fast, and I would hate to just chase you down, you know? I hate running after all."
The muscular man gave a toothy grin, and the coachman's face blanched.
"Die Todten reiten schnell," muttered the man who had been sitting next to Yu.
Yu opened his mouth to ask him what he meant but hesitated as he struggled to think of the appropriate German words.
"Yu! Help get the luggage," ordered Guren, distracting Yu from his thoughts. Yu hustled out, grateful to stretch his sore legs and back after that rough ride. His back made several popping sounds as he extended his body.
"Hm? Oh, it's fine," said the muscular coachman. He lightly shooed Yu away from their baggage. "My name is Crowley Eusford," he said in crisp German. He bowed politely. "I work for Count Bathory. You are Mr. Ichinose, yes? I will take care of your luggage."
Yu watched in awe as Crowley handled their bags. He moved them so easily, their luggage looked as light as pillows in his hands. Yu's mouth fell open before he weakly closed it and tried to disguise his astonishment by limiting it to a raised eyebrow. How strong was this man?! After dragging those things everywhere after Guren over the past few hellish weeks, he knew exactly how heavy those bags and suitcases were. Some of those suitcases were especially heavy, but Crowley handled them like he didn't even notice.
Yu glanced at Guren, but Guren didn't seem bothered. He lazily continued to point to each of their suitcases in turn as Crowley transferred them to their new ride.
Yu's eyes loomed over Crowley's muscles as he was filled with envy. One day, he would be that strong. One day.
As soon as Crowley lifted the last suitcase that Guren pointed to, their previous coachman urged his horses to run, and he sped off to Bukovina without even a farewell. It was as though the Devil were on his heels and hungry for a tasty human morsel.
Yu raised an eyebrow and gestured at the fleeing coach. "What was that about?"
"Come on, Yu," said Guren, ignoring his question. "We'll leave you behind."
"Are you both ready?" asked Crowley slowly in accented English, startling them with the sudden transition. His English was not as nearly as clear as his German, but it was still comprehensible.
"You know English?" asked Guren.
"Yes. My lord had us learn English, so we have carefully practiced." He paused. His eyes flickered in the faint light from his lantern. "We have wolves, so we must take care. Blankets are in the calèche, and there is a flask of slivovitz under the seat."
Guren and Yu glanced at each other before scuttling into the carriage and started on their way.
"So much for me having to brush up on my German," complained Yu.
"The count is serious about moving to England. That's good for us," replied Guren.
The pair's usual bickering faded away into silence. As they headed into the darkness of the mountains, the howling of wolves echoed from their drop-off site. Yu shivered.
"Scared of a few little wolves, Yu?"
Yu couldn't see his face, but he imagined Guren's cocky grin.
"Shut up. I didn't see you waiting around for them."
They traveled straight ahead, around a bend, straight, around another bend, and so on until Yu didn't know which direction they had started in. He peered suspiciously at the trees along the path. The eerie trees reached spindly, claw-like branches onto the dirt road, but the little black carriage seemed to dance through them like a shadow in the night. The trees almost appeared gaunt, hungry. It was as though they were reaching and groping for any prey within their grasp.
Yu felt a faint shiver down his spine before he sighed and sat back down. He was sure the trees would not be half as spooky in the daytime. There was just this chill creeping up his spine and the echo of a thought that refused to let him rest: Was it really wolves that scared the natives badly enough to draw crosses on their chests and wear religious jewelry? Did crosses and necklaces have any effect on wolves?Guren responded to all the local whispers and mutterings as if it were hogwash. He never paid it any mind, but Yu wondered if their suspicions and concerns should be disregarded so easily. The busty brunette from the Golden Crone Hotel was so worried, she was in tears. People wouldn't be upset like that for no reason, would they?
After two hours of twisting and turning and odd detours, the carriage slowed to a stop. Yu was impressed that Crowley could guide them so well in all that dusky darkness. He poked his head out of the carriage. Sure enough, he saw the shadow of a gloomy, aged castle with towers that pierced the thundering sky. Lightning slithered across the clouds, casting the broken battlements of ages past in sharp relief. Even with only the lightning to reveal the castle's silhouette, it was clear the ancient piece of architecture was in disrepair. Yu wasn't surprised. The place was old, and who in the world would want to come on such an uncomfortable journey up here with bricks and supplies to make this shabby place whole again?
Yu's sustained nervousness finally melted away and took the dredges of his energy with it, surprising him with weariness. Yu yawned as he blinked sleep from his eyes.
"Gentlemen, we have arrived," stated Crowley, opening the carriage door. Yu shook away his fatigue and hopped out first, gazing drowsily at their surroundings. Guren trotted after him. His mouth stretched into a languid yawn.
A cold sprinkle of rain quickly shocked the pair into feeling wide awake, despite the late hour.
"Let me walk you to the door," said Crowley as he lifted away their luggage. Once again, he did it without even appearing to struggle. He didn't even release a grunt. Yu frowned. The light from the carriage's lantern licked the leaves of nearby trees, but it only seemed to make the shadows deeper. The lantern's light looked as though it were practically being eaten by the night. Yu felt another chill, which he blamed on the rain.
The icy raindrops grew heavier.
The trio crossed a dilapidated courtyard. Arches curved over them like the ribs of a giant. Yu supposed it must have been part of an elaborate entranceway once upon a time, but it was too dark to tell.
Crowley set their bags down and grasped the massive knocker on pair of ancient and immense doors, which would soon grant them entry. The iron looked rusted and worn, while the wood was so battered, in had nearly turned gray. Yu could see why the locals held so much superstition toward the castle… He was close to believing the rumors himself just by looking at the front door. He warily touched the rosary in his pocket.
If the rumors were true, then that necklace would make him as safe as money in a safe… right?
Yu glanced at Guren, swearing silently to never reveal he was becoming a bit superstitious himself. Guren would never let him hear the end of it. Who got scared of an old building, anyway?
A rattling of chains jostled Yu to attention and made his heart race. Eerie clanging and clattering echoed throughout the courtyard as the twin doors yawned open. It was as if the castle were waking from a long slumber and thirsted for fresh life.
The sudden blinding light that shot through the entrance forced Yu to blink harshly.
"Welcome to my home!" laughed a jubilant voice with excellent English but a foreign accent. This person's English was better than Crowley's, but his enthusiasm was a little over-the-top. Yu squinted against the brightness to see a silver-haired man spin into view and take a bow. His long, silver hair curled around him like ribbons. No, at second glance, he really was wearing ribbons. Although it wasn't uncommon for men to wear ribbons, wasn't he overdoing it a bit?
"Please enter freely and of your own will," said the overly-cheerful man. His attitude was so ridiculously sunny, it was practically an abomination this late in the night. "I am Count Ferid Bathory, and I am most pleased to meet you."
The count gracefully stepped aside, inviting them in with a wave of his arm. If Yu weren't mistaken, the man had lace coming out of his sleeves.
Yu took a moment to reconcile the disparity from the dreary outdoors and the flamboyant host of Bathory Castle, but he was not successful.
"If you do not enter soon," noted Crowley in his deep voice from behind Yu, "we will be soaked to the bone."
Yu shook himself out of his stupor and noticed Guren step inside. Yu quickly followed him.
"You must be Mr. Ichinose," said the count as he shook Guren's hand. "I bid you welcome from the chilly night."
Yu looked at the count more closely. He was not mistaken; the count indeed wore a few ribbons and had lace coming from his sleeves. The count was just as slender as Crowley was muscular. He had unblemished white skin so white, Yu would have wondered if he were deathly ill if he weren't so energetic. He had a straight nose and thin, grinning lips.
His eyes were a shocking wine color, and they suddenly swiveled to Yu. The man's gaze was cunning, almost… predatory.
Yu shivered and took a step back.
Fortunately, the count either didn't notice or didn't mind. He held out his hand to Yu. Yu disregarded his paranoia, blaming it on the locals. Yu stepped forward and shook the count's hand. The man's glove was so cold, Yu believed he must have been handling ice a few minutes prior. Even the chilly rain felt warm in comparison.
"And this must be… Little Yu?" asked the count with a tilt of his head. He looked Yu up and down. The intensity of his gaze kept Yu from moving, and it felt kind of…slimy. "He's not quite as little as you implied in your letters, Mr. Ichinose."
"I'm not little," stated Yu petulantly, pulling back his hand.
Guren smirked. "He is still quite childish, as you will see."
Yu felt relieved when the count's eyes moved off him and returned to Guren.
The silver-haired man chuckled with a hand gracefully placed at his smirking mouth. "Oh, I see, I see. I understand perfectly. My son is around his age. He is in a bit of a rebellious period, I am afraid. I beg your forgiveness in advance. He doesn't like visitors, and he can be quite rude at times. If he gives you any trouble, just tell me. Even though he acts like that, he will still listen to me. Most of the time, anyway."
"With any luck," said Guren, "they'll be friends, and Yu might have a playmate to keep him busy for a while."
"Hahaha!" chortled the count with a sharp-toothed grin. "With any luck, certainly."
As the count and Guren chatted, Yu looked around. The entranceway was octagonal and without windows. The count led them to a hallway. It was quite dated and made from stone. Heads and skins of animals acted as decoration. A few landscape paintings hung from the walls. The corridor was well-lit, but Yu noticed there weren't any windows. Feeling enclosed made Yu uneasy.
If nothing else, at least it was better than the Golden Crone Hotel. After spending the night there, Yu's expectations weren't high. This place didn't smell nearly as bad either.
The count clapped his hands. "Chess, please direct these men to the toilet and show them their chambers. After that, bring them to the dining room. They must be famished. Horn, please take their luggage."
Yu turned to see Guren be led away by a petite woman with shoulder-length dark hair and hustled after them.
"Mika… Mika… Oh, Mimika," sang the count in an annoying tune and making Yu feel sorry for whoever Mika was.
The count was a mixture of flamboyant and creepy, but Yu shoved those thoughts away. He had just spent too long with the superstitious locals and was tired. He was sure everything would feel—and look—normal in the morning.
Author's comments: Beta'd by Elly3981.
