DISCLAIMER: Don't own Castlevania. If I did there would be too much succubus and not enough gameplay, so be glad. Yaoi will follow eventually. I warned you.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've had massive writer's block whilst writing this chapter. I get the feeling I'm taking it too fast and I'm not all too happy with that. Also, not sure if they had teabags in the 1700s. Too lazy to wiki it to be sure. Please forgive if its out of context.
Thirdly, I've spent waay too long playing Ecclesia when I should have been writing this. Shanoa is a delight to behold and I hope you'll forgive my sad weakness of the flesh.

But anyway, lets go on.

Disaster

The sky was bright as Maria walked down the familiar streets of the village, greeting all that she passed, carefully stepping out of the path of some children playing in the street. There was a smile on her lips, but her mind was troubled. Ever since Annette had come back home in tears and trembling with fear, she had heard nothing from Richter. The hunter had barricaded himself in his home, refusing to see anyone and refusing to go out and keep vigil for were-bears and other beasts of the forest. The villagers were getting edgy and anxious. They needed the security that he offered, and without it, tension was high and fear was full and abound in the community. Rumors and anxieties had once again begun to fly.

Annette had told them of the monstrous nightmare her former beloved had. She awoke to Richter screaming her name, his voice so strained and anguished that it sounded as though he were mourning. It was not the first time she had awoken to Richter caught in the violent spasms of a dream, but never had his movements been so violent, never before had he caused himself any harm. She had not known what to do; she was afraid to try to shake him awake for fear he might harm her, and she knew not what else she could try. She had only hidden behind the doorframe, crying his name until he woke. And when he finally had, the look in his eyes, so fearful and desperate, had terrified her. Maria had never believed that Annette would succumb to the talk of the town, would ever listen to the rumors of Richter being possessed by demons, filled with darkness. But she had been listening and taking those idle, fearful worlds to heart. Maria could see that slowly, Annette had begun to doubt her husband, begun to fear him. She had kept it hidden until this point. Whatever had happened that night, it had proved too much for her and her fear and won out over her love for him. She had run. With no intent on ever looking back.

Maria had been sympathetic, as had the rest of her family, warmly welcoming Annette back amongst them, promising to protect her from any harm. It was nice to have her sister back at home, but Maria couldn't help but wish that it was under better circumstances. However, she worried about Richter, and that was her reason for being out today. His house was dark, the curtains drawn; it looked for all the world deserted. She knew he was within, but he answered nobody who came to the door. It was bad enough that he was plagued with fearful villagers every day, but to have Annette leave him as well... she wondered if she was the only one here that actually cared for his wellbeing.

--

Richter awoke to a sharp, hard rapping noise that startled him out of a dreamless yet uneasy sleep. He struggled to untangle himself from the rumpled sheets on his bed and groggily raised his head to look out of the window. A moment later he realized the curtains were drawn, a slender beam of sunlight piercing the crack between them. Judging from the intensity of the light that shone through, he assumed that it was late in the morning. He contemplated on what it was exactly that had woken him, when the sound came again. Realizing that somebody was at the door, most likely trying to coax him out to protect them from imaginary fiends, he groaned, closed his eyes and rolled on to his side.

"Be damned." He growled, pulling the blankets over his head. "Leave me in peace."

And yet the knocking did not cease. It had happened constantly over the past few days, villagers coming to his door, begging him to come out... some had been gentler than others. But what did it mater? It was their fault he was buried beneath a mass of tangled sheets, hiding like some animal gone off to die. Their rumors, their lies... they had taken Annette from him. He felt as though he did not want to go on living.

It had been four days ago since she had fled from the home they had shared for so many years. She had tears in her eyes as she explained in a high, fearful voice that she could no longer bear to be at his side, to hear him scream and cry in his sleep, to have to stand with he who had been called a devil and a demon. She could not love a man that mourned her death while she slept beside him.

I can stand this no longer!! Let me be free of you!!!

And with those words, spoken in fear and terror, she had broken his heart.

He no longer wanted to face the day. No longer wanted to run around and waste his already expended energy on looking for beasts that did not exist. Annette was gone, and this would only spawn fresh rumors, fresh lies. He felt as though he was living a nightmare; his sleep haunted by whispers and the bleak shape of a black castle just beyond the horizon, his waking hours alone in a cold house, no longer warmed by Annette's gentle smile or light laughter. He was so tired, yet unable to sleep. Just as it had in the past, the darkness was beginning to settle over him like a cloak, except this time there was nothing to hold him fast to his resolve. The woman he loved was gone, and she would never come back.

"Richter? Richter, please. Let me in. I need to speak to you."

That clear voice cut through his sorry thoughts like a knife. He raised his head again, this time in uncertainty. Was that Maria? What was she doing here? Surely Annette would have turned her sister against him too... But Maria was perhaps the only person in the village who would want to speak to him about something other than resuming his monster hunts. Even his other friends had come, asking him to return to his 'duties'. But as he mused on this, he was surprised to find himself rising from his bed and silently making his way down the cold, dark hall to the front door.

--

It was not long before the two of them were sitting at the kitchen table. Richter had tried to make himself appear as a good host, but Maria had insisted that he sit while she make tea. He had grudgingly obliged, slumped into a chair and had remained silent ever since.

As she set about heating water and preparing teabags, Maria glanced over at him and felt a sad, aching stab of pity. Richter was a sorry sight indeed. He looked as though he had not left his bed since Annette had gone. His hair was tangled, his shoulders stooped; he had the look of a man that had been run to exhaustion. She did not fail to note that his eyes were red, and that the fierce, proud spark within them seemed to have dulled. She was gazing upon a broken man, one with too many burdens upon his mortal soul. He sat quietly at the table, waiting for her, his head lowered and eyes downcast. He almost protested when she had opened the curtains, but it was as though he didn't have the will to argue. She had forgotten that he would not be taking this as well as her sister had. He was the victim here, haunted and troubled by things that nobody in the village could understand, that she herself could grasp only a little of. She set a teacup down before him, watching him with a concerned eye as he half raised his head to look up at her. He uttered a soft thanks, lowering his gaze once again to stare at the brew. The silence was thick and heavy about them.

"You wanted to speak to me?" He asked at length, taking a slow sip of his tea.

"I'm worried about you, Richter." She replied, gazing at him. "Things have been said and the villagers are growing anxious. News from further away has not been well either. Everyone wants to know why you've locked yourself away and won't come out." She paused. "And seeing you now, I worry all the more. Forgive me for saying, but you look terrible."

He laughed a soft, bitter laugh at that. "I'm grieving, Maria. How is a man supposed to look when the one he loves has turned away from him for good? How is he supposed to look when she calls him a devil?"

She winced at the hurt in his voice. "I'm sorry..." she murmured. "But please Richter. I'm your friend. Let me know what's hurting you." She reached across the table and clasped his hand firmly in her own. "Let me know how I can help."

And Richter had stared at her, his eyes filling with tears. Of all the people in the village, Maria was the only one who had come to him wanting to comfort him. Annette was gone, the small community had expectations of him that were beyond his ability, whispers and lies about him passed from the gossipers' lips to the ears of the innocent. How long would it be before he was driven out of this small community? All he needed right now was someone to care about how he felt. Someone to acknowledge his pain and help him overcome it. As the tears spilled over, he found himself telling her about everything that had come to pass. His terrible dream, his grief, his misery. He wanted Annette to come back, wanted her to think over what she had told him. He loved her so much; he never wanted to be apart from her like this. He couldn't hunt monsters while his heart was so heavy. Nothing had come to bother them since the were-bear anyway. It didn't matter that there were ill tidings from the north, that there were imps to the west and monstrous fish to the south. Nothing had harmed them here, and he had promised his protection. Why was that not enough? Why could nobody understand that he had lost something so precious to him, something that he would never again recover? Why could they not leave him in peace?

Maria sat beside him, gently patting his shoulder, offering her consolations and helpful words when she could. She could easily see the pain on his face, hear the anguish in his voice. It tore at her heart.

"I know not if I can go on living here, Maria." He said softly. "Too much is expected of me and every time I see her..." he shook his head. "I do not think I will be able to bear it."

He expected to hear her protest, but Maria remained uneasily silent. "You may not have to, Richter." She said awkwardly after a moment. "That is another reason I came to speak with you. Annette said that... she cannot bear your company any longer." Her gaze was sad as she looked at him. "She is so afraid. I do not understand why, you're such a gentle soul. I know the rumors about you aren't true, I've tried my hardest to get her to listen to me... but stubbornness must run in our family." She shifted a little in her seat. "In three day's time, she goes to the north. We have family in a village up there that are more than happy to have her with them."

Richter stared at her. "The roads have been dangerous of late. How could she even think of traveling under these conditions?!" Anguish had been replaced with genuine worry. "At least let me go with her so I can see her safe..."

Yet even as he said it, he knew that it was an empty wish. Maria's sad smile and the slow shake of her head confirmed it.

"I tried to tell her the same thing." she said softly. "She refused to agree to it."

Richter closed his eyes, sighing heavily. "Does she really loathe me so much?" His voice cracked with emotion, fresh tears brimming in his eyes. "Have I really become such a monster overnight?!"

Maria could only hold him tightly as he began to weep afresh.

--

In three days time, he found himself waking with a sense of dread. Sadness weighed heavy on his heart as he did his best to make himself look presentable; trying to tame his now unruly mane of hair into the sleek curls they once had been, washing his face and trying to hide the redness of his eyes, attempting a smile at the mirror to show he was not truly broken. Not yet.

He gazed out of the window at the busy street, knowing that further up along the main road a carriage would be waiting. Waiting to take the one he loved far, far away to a place where she would no longer have to see him. He couldn't help but wonder when it was that her love for him had dissolved into fear, and why he had not noticed it any sooner. But he had hurt himself over it for too long. Today he intended to say a proper goodbye to Annette, to ask her of one last favor before she left him for good.

She had returned to their home once, just once, with Maria at her side to take what was hers. The day had been uneasy and Maria was constantly breaking the silence between the two. He had never felt so wretched in his life, and he regretted not saying anything until this moment. But now his resolve was firm. For the first time in a week, he donned his coat, opened the windows and curtains and headed outside. Maria was there to greet him.

The two of them silently headed down the streets, following the familiar route from Richter's home to that of the Reynards. He was not surprised to see a carriage waiting on the street, drawn by four well groomed horses. What did surprise him, however, was the presence of two hired swords. They calmly waited astride their own mounts, fierce, well tempered mercenaries. They looked as though they would have no trouble protecting her from disaster on the road.

Annette herself was waiting on the front doorstep as the coachman loaded the last of her things on board. A sharp, painful ache made itself known in his chest as he looked upon her, knowing that this would probably be their last conversation. And it was bound to be an unhappy one.

She had smiled when Maria approached, but stiffened when she saw that he followed. Seeing that beautiful face, that smile fade as her gaze passed over him, it hurt. But he had expected it and steeled himself against the emotional blow.

"Annette." He said softly. "Please don't be like this. I have merely come to bid you goodbye and wish you safe travel." He paused uncertainly, feeling awful that he had to speak so formally to the one who he had once been so intimate with. "I just want to ask you one thing."

"If it is your company on this journey, you can already see my mind is made up." She replied icily, turning her gaze away from him. "I have no need of another escort."

"You know I would never forgive myself if you came to any harm."

"Then do not work yourself up over nothing, Richter." Why did she refuse to look at him? Was he that much of a blight to her? "With these two taking care of me, I can assure you of my safety. It matters not that you are a Belmont; there are other men who can protect me just as well as you could." She carefully descended the stairs and headed for the carriage, where the coachman offered her his hand to help her inside.

"Annette!" He called. "Wait!"

She paused, turning her gaze upon him irritably, expectantly. He gazed back, eyes filled with sadness and pain.

"Please. Never forget that I love you. I... I hope you can find happiness wherever your journey takes you." He lowered his gaze, feeling his heart break all over again as he heard the words leave his lips. "Take care... Annette."

Her own eyes had lowered some time ago as she turned away. "Farewell, Richter." she breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

And with that, she was within the carriage, the door shutting soundly behind her. Moments later, a whip cracked and the horses were making their way down the street. Annette was leaving her home, her family... leaving the memories of her husband behind. Richter forced himself to watch as they progressed down the traveler's road, disappearing out of his life for good. He stood and watched even once they were out of sight, until the thudding sound of hooves on dirt finally faded beyond hearing. Only then did he turn his back on the road and walk numbly back to his own home. Only after he had shut the door and closed the windows did he head into his room and cry his anguish into the pillows.

A cold wind had begun to blow, bringing dark clouds with it.

--

"All this will come to pass, mortal."

"My lord has deemed her the first to die..."

The dreadful dream was returning to him. The black shell of his village surrounded him; the smell of burnt flesh saturated the very air, making him choke and gag.

"It will be a clean death... she's too pretty for me to make her suffer."

The succubus stood before him, a slender blade resting in her hand. She twirled it idly, watching him through her dark, cunning eyes. Behind her, thunder rumbled and lightning illuminated the sky. Rain began to fall in thick, dark drops. It stained the ash covered earth where it fell.

"You should have followed her. Perhaps you could have saved her."

He couldn't move. No matter how hard he willed his body, he had been rendered immobile by some other force. The rain was heavy. The droplets falling thick and red... just like blood.

"She will die, Belmont. She will DIE."

He heard a horse scream, followed by a terrible crash. A woman's voice shrieked into the night as swords bit deep into flesh. The heavy breath of men wearied by battle followed the dark, inhuman chuckle of some invisible beast. There were more screams, men dying, horses dying. A triumphant howl to the deep red moon above.

The succubus was laughing a low, joyous laugh. "Can you not feel the chaos? Can you not feel him returning?" It rose into an excited crescendo. "Revel in it, Belmont! She is DEAD!"

Her slender blade whicked across the empty air, and suddenly she was clutching a severed head by its hair. He stared into its wet, dead eyes, its gaping mouth, feeling an unfreeable scream lodged in his throat. The succubus' excited cries seemed to echo in his mind as the head stared back at him, as the lips moved and spoke with Annette's voice.

"Richter...?"

And then he did scream, in terror, in horror, in fear. The succubus pranced circles around him, swinging the severed head of his beloved even as it continued to feebly croak his name...

He awoke with a horrified cry, muffled by a peal of thunder that had struck at the same time. He sat up in bed, gripping the sheets tightly as he tried to still his rapidly beating heart, as he listened to the heavy rainfall that had suddenly set upon the village. Beneath the harsh pitter-patter he thought he heard another sound. A sound like hoofs upon the road, a rider rushing in haste to get out of the sudden downpour. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing he was trembling. A terrible foreboding had come over him, chilling him to the bone. In an instant, he was donning his clothes, throwing a cloak over his shoulders and grabbing Vampire Killer before rushing out into the street.

There was a light in the window as he ran towards the Reynard family's home, but something else was out there, lying collapsed before the stairs. Maria crouched beside a misshapen figure while the rest of her family stayed indoors, watching fearfully through the window. He caught the last snags of conversation as he approached.

"... out of n-nowhere... t-they... they... killed my partner... the horses..."

"My sister!" Maria's voice was shrill with fear. "What about my sister?!"

"The lady... I... saw her d-dragged away by the... the wolves. I... I could d-do nothing... to s-save her..."

Richter suddenly realized that the bloodied mess of a man before him was one of the mercenaries that had accompanied Annette little over a day ago. His horse lay dead a little way from the house. He had dragged himself to the doorstep to deliver his message.

"T-they came... s-so so fast..." he rasped. "Three big demons... a-and there was... a woman with them..." He coughed, bringing up blood. "F-forgive us... we... could not..." A moment later he shuddered, falling limp in Maria's supporting arms. She raised her head, noticing Richter for the first time, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

"Richter..." she whispered, her voice barely audible above the stinging rain and the grumbling thunder. "He... he said that they were ambushed. That..." tears spilled down her cheeks, she could not bring herself to say the words that the soldier had relayed to her, but he already knew.

Something terrible had happened upon the traveler's road. The succubus' sharp laughter, the severed head's soft words… he knew that it had come to pass. The she-demon's words echoed in his head as he fell to his knees beside Maria, trembling with shock and terrible realization.

Revel in it, Belmont! She is DEAD!

Did the succubus get a bit too caught up in her revelry there? I wasn't sure.

Nonetheless, reviews fill me with a warm sense of joy. They are the very essence that I must feast on in order to keep my creative drive going. So give me love. And any critiques you might have. Thank you~