The Legend I
Once Bitten
Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction
# Hi all! First of all I want to say that I'm so glad everyone seemed to like the previous chapter! Like I said, it was my favourite, and it's great that others are impressed by it too. I'm sorry for the late release this week; I've been a little busy. It's just a content chapter to set the stage for the finale. Yes, that's right, this arc of the story is ending in the next chapter! Or maybe the next two, if I can't make it fit. Presenting Chapter 10, hot off the press (I finished it 10minutes before release)!
Chapter 10: Vampire Hunter
It was midnight. The carriage rolled to a stop just outside the village. The door swung open, and a low, unearthly sound drifted out of the dark interior. It was music – strains of dark siren song from another world.
A few minutes later, the doors of two of the houses near to the village entrance swung open with eerie creaks. From each house emerged a pretty young woman in her nightgown. Both girls had expressionless faces and blank, dazed eyes. As soon as they had stepped out of their houses, the doors clicked shut behind them.
Like puppets, the women began to walk unsteadily towards the carriage in the dark. The creatures within were summoning them, under the orders of the master of the carriage, and mere mortal women could only heed that call.
The first woman reached the open carriage door. Five deathly pale, waxy-skinned women with gaunt faces crowded around the opening and drew her up the steps with emaciated arms.
A few metres away from the carriage, the second woman seemed to hesitate. She stood in her thin nightgown in the chilly night air, swaying in the wind, as if confused.
"Come, sister," the five doxies crooned as one, holding out their bony long-fingered hands.
There could no longer be any resistance. The remaining woman took the last few steps, and vanished into the carriage. The door slammed shut, cutting off the otherworldly singing of the doxies, and the carriage sped off towards the old deserted Noble castle on top of the highest hill overlooking the village in the valley.
It was after two days of continuous riding that D arrived at the small village surrounded by hills. Vianne was propped up in the saddle in front of him, asleep again. She had spent the long hours on the move drifting in and out of sleep. Even now, she still burned with fever. Her face remained pale and sickly.
D stopped his horse at the entrance to the village and dropped the reins over a nearby fencepost. Then he ventured into the village on foot with Vianne in his arms. As he walked along the wide, beaten path that served as the main road, people came out of their houses to stare, both in wonder and in fear.
Soon, a small crowd had gathered all around him, moving with him as he walked deeper into the village. A tall, thin, greying man elbowed his way through the crowd to face D. From the way the curious villagers did not village, D deduced that this man was the village head.
"So you're finally here," he said sternly. "Two of our women have been taken by a vampire. Someone saw the carriage two nights ago. He's retreated into the castle at –"
"Wait," D said. That was it; a single word from him, spoken without excessive force or inflection, and the village head fell silent. He moved aside for D to pass, as did the crowd.
D moved through the still, quiet crowd, searching the faces surrounding him. He could not find a single one that was not filled with fear and suspicion. Then, through the crowd, he caught sight of the old church.
An aged priest with white hair and uncountable wrinkles stood in the churchyard, calmly and silently surveying the scene. Kindness shone through in his clear blue eyes, which did not darken or harden when they landed on D's dark figure. His eyes were non-judgemental; his kindness was in his nature, and extended to all beings until they proved themselves unworthy.
D moved towards the church. The crowd parted unresistingly before him. When he approached, the priest did not smile, but did not shy away or show revulsion either. "What can I do for you?" the elderly man asked simply.
The dhampir hunter walked past the priest into the chapel. Carefully, he laid Vianne down on one of the wooden pews. "I have a favour to ask of you. Please watch over her for me," he said.
This time, the priest smiled. "Until you return from your task? But of course," he acquiesced. "It seems that she is ill. Shall I tend to that as well?"
"I would be very grateful."
"Then I will," the priest promised. In a louder voice, obviously meant for the crowd to hear, he asked, "But might I enquire as to who this young lady might be?"
D only hesitated for a split second before saying, "Someone I saved from a vampire. She still walks in the light." It was all true.
The priest smiled wryly and glanced up towards the bright sky. "Evidently."
In a bare whisper, he added, "Go forth and do your job, vampire hunter. I will keep her safe, and no harm will come to her while you fulfil your task. Godspeed to you, and may you be blessed."
Only D heard him, which was how he had meant it. It was good enough. D turned away to listen to the village chief, his one worry relieved at last. Now, he had to go back to what he did best – the job of a vampire hunter.
By day, the castle simply looked like an ancient, majestic crumbling ruin. Yet, looking at the ragged stone walls, one could just imagine how shadows would fill all those crevices at night, and give the castle a new, spooky quality.
The castle was huge; it loomed, a huge monolith, over D as he rode his black cyborg horse towards it. The elaborate wrought iron gates alone towered over him. D stopped his horse right in front of the rusting gates that were many times taller than he was.
Several metres above him was the spot where the gates were bound shut by dully gleaming black chains, set in place by the vampire who had entered recently. He simply sat in the saddle and looked up at it for a long moment. Then he moved.
He slipped his feet into the stirrups hanging down from his horse's sides, lifting himself slightly from the saddle and shifting his weight to his feet. From this half-crouch, he leapt straight up in the air, reaching back for his sword as he did so.
It all took place in an instant. A silver arc seared through the air, accompanied by the eerie song that always came with it. Then the sword was back in its sheath, and D was on one knee on the ground behind his horse. A second later, the chains fell away from the gate, cut cleanly in two.
D straightened and walked towards the gates. With no apparent effort at all, he pushed the huge, heavy iron gates open. Then he remounted his horse and rode into the castle grounds.
Ferrucio was in bed with the two girls from the nearby village. Angelica stood silently in the doorway of the large bedroom and watched the writhing movements under the sheets. Occasionally, she glanced back to check for the presence of the other five women in the castle. They had all been fully changed, and were no longer the limp, weak doxies that they used to be. They were vicious predators, much like their master. They had been ordered not to touch Angelica, but she still feared them. She was on her own in this place.
Subconsciously, Angelica fingered the puncture wounds on her own neck. She had been fighting the change for days. She refused to become a pathetic doxy who would eventually turn into a bloodthirsty monster. She would resist the hold Ferrucio had over her, and as long as he did not bite her again, she still had a chance.
Checking once again to make sure that none of the five vampire brides were watching her, she pulled out the long dagger she had stolen from the rack on the wall in the hall and hidden in the folds of her dress. Memories of what Ferrucio had done to her bubbled to the surface of her mind, making her feel unclean again.
I'm sorry, Terry. Please give me strength for this. Keeping the image of her dead husband's smiling face firmly in her mind, Angelica slipped into the room on silent feet.
She walked up to the bed. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing nerves, she cleared her throat. Immediately the sheets were thrown off, and Ferrucio sat up. His bare shoulders were covered in scratches.
"Yes, Angelica dear?" he asked. "I'm rather busy."
"I want to go home!" Angelica cried as she whipped out the dagger hidden behind her back and stabbed at Ferrucio's left chest.
The next thing she knew, there was a sharp pain in her wrist, and the dagger had fallen from her nerveless hands. Ferrucio, unscathed and livid, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the large stained glass window opposite the bed.
"You dare to try and kill me, Angelica?" he bellowed, his presence seeming to fill the entire room. "You foolish, pathetic woman. Now you're going to have to die."
Angelica laughed, despite the tears of fear and pain trailing down her cheeks. "That's still better than being your bride," she spat. "For your information, I have a husband, and his name was Terry."
With her left hand, she pulled out the small dagger she had hidden along with the longer one and stabbed wildly with it. Somehow, in her desperation, she managed to plunge the blade deep into Ferrucio's side. With a wild roar of pain and fury, Ferrucio flung her at the window.
Angelica squeezed her eyes shut as her body smashed through the stained glass. She could feel the jagged shards of glass tearing through her skin. And then she began to fall.
I'm coming, Terry. I'm coming.
The sound of shattering glass caused D to look up. A large stained glass window on one of the upper floors of the castle had broken. Shards of glass and what appeared to be the body of a woman were falling.
D was still on the other side of the grounds. At a gentle touch of the reins, his horse broke into a gallop towards the spot where the woman was falling.
Halfway across the grounds, D knew that he would not make it. The grounds were simply too big. Even the augmented hooves of his mount would not be able to carry him to the castle fast enough to catch the woman before she hit the ground. Nevertheless, he spurred the horse on.
He was only about ten metres away from the castle wall now. The woman was only about the same distance from the ground, and falling at an insane speed. Without warning, D hurled himself out of the saddle. His horse let out a panicked neigh as the force of his jump sent it tumbling head over heels.
D hit the ground a split second before the woman would have, and executed a lightning-quick roll under her. He grabbed her, breaking her fall, and straightened up carrying her in his arms. Then he looked down, and saw that he need not have bothered. A large shard of green glass was wedged deep in her throat. Her eyes were wide and glassy – she was already dead.
Still carrying the woman's corpse, D walked up to the heavy double doors of the castle. He shoved one side open with his shoulder and entered. He now stood in a magnificent, if rather dusty, great hall. His feet stirred up clouds of dust from the thick red carpet as he crossed the hall towards the blazing fireplace on the other end.
D laid the woman's body down right in front of the fireplace. Then he tossed the hem of her dress into the flames. The fire spread through the fabric onto the corpse and began to hungrily consume it. D simply turned away and made his way up one of the curving marble stairways on either side of the hearth.
The acrid stench of sizzling flesh rose with him as he scaled the impressive set of stairs onto a wide landing on the second floor. A high archway led deeper into the castle. Heavy crimson velvet drapes hid what was beyond the archway.
Perhaps sensing something, D stood where he was at the top of the stairs. A moment later, the curtains obscuring the archway began to rise to either side of their own accord. Golden cords hanging from the sides of the arch whipped up and secured the curtains in an open position.
Behind the clear archway stood five alluring women dressed in flowing gowns of gold-embroidered crimson velvet and silk with sharply plunging necklines, showing an alarming amount of deathly pale cleavage. All five had their hair done up in elaborate coils and festooned with ornaments. Each woman wore an impressive ensemble of ruby-and-gold jewellery.
"Look, sisters, we have a visitor," the woman in the middle said.
"The first man we've had in this castle besides Master," the one to her left crooned.
The woman on the right end of the row giggled, "He's rather good-looking."
This was followed by a chorus of feminine teasing and giggling. Suddenly, the woman in the middle stopped laughing. In an instant, all the mirth bubbling from the five women vanished. Dark, threatening silence loomed between D and the mistresses of the castle.
"Dhampir," the one in the middle said. Her voice was deeper and deadly serious, sharply contrasting with her high-pitched, mischievous tone from earlier. "You're a hunter, and you're here for our Master."
"That means you have to die," one of her companions hissed.
"It's nothing personal, you see," another explained. "We're bound to serve him forever. That includes killing off any hunters who come to kill him, no matter how handsome."
Without warning, all five women lunged at D in a whirl of red fabric. They pounced, screeching deafeningly, upon the spot where he stood and tried to tear him apart with their long scarlet nails. Only then did they realise that he was no longer there. There was a moment of stunned silence. And it was then that the last strains of the sword's song trailed away.
D, standing under the archway with his back to the vampire women, turned the sword in his hands so that the blood glistening on its blade showed. There was a single, blood-curdling scream that was quickly choked out. Cold blood splattered the faces of four of the women. The fifth one fell dead with a stab wound in her chest that went right through her heart.
The remaining four began shrieking again. They were filled with rage. But now, there was also fear in their eyes as they leapt at D once more. This time, everything happened before they even landed on the carpeted floor.
Once again D vanished from sight. He reappeared in mid-leap, right in front of another of the women. His sword sang loudly as he brought it down in a long vertical cut, cleanly bisecting the unfortunate vampire. Without pause, he twisted around in the air and made a diagonal upwards slash, cutting apart another of his adversaries. Before the blood could even spray, he reversed his stroke in a horizontal circular slash, taking off the head of the next opponent. Then he drew his sword back close to his body, its point aimed forward.
The sword sang once more as two pairs of feet touched the ground – D's and the last vampire's. D stood behind the woman, his sword impaling her between the shoulder blades. He pulled out his gore-stained weapon, and she fell. As she did, he touched the flat of his blade to her sleeve. By the time she hit the ground, his sword was clean.
D looked around at the mangled corpses at his feet. The five women had not been changed long enough for their bodies to turn to dust upon death. Two had been stabbed through the heart, and another two had had their hearts cut in two along with their bodies. That left the headless one. Merciless as a vampire hunter had to be, D went over to the decapitated body, holding his sword point-down. The gleaming blade descended sharply.
Flicking the new splotches of blood off the end of his sword, D sheathed it and continued through the archway. Not once did he look back at the cadavers he had left on the floor, or the bloodstains he had left on the wall.