Hours later, the vampire hunter found himself outside the city. The welcome sign right leading up to the congregated houses read "Greenfield," a very appropriate name given the level of upkeep its residents self walking through a calm, low populated neighborhood outside the epicenter took pride in. Crickets chirped, fireflies flashed about, and the wind could be heard passing through the neatly trimmed grass blades that encompassed the surroundings of these domiciles.

"No wonder this place is named Greenville ," Leon observed. His eyes then fell upon the red specks scattered randomly about the lawns. Dried red, orange, and yellow leaves departed themselves from the surrounding trees, giving bursts of complementary hues to the plots of vivid grass.

"What a strange assembly of homes." He noticed each house had a similar structure, but with differences in style. There was clear conformity, but with a dash of personality. It made him wonder what kind of people lived within the walls.

However, inside these mindfully painted homes, lied more eyes of judgment. The inhabitants indoors gave Leon these leery gazes before shutting the blinds and curtains. He made the mistake of accidentally making eye contact with one of the homeowners, causing his skin to crawl. He held himself in a visibly uncomfortable posture, his arms folded to hide his torso, shoulders tucked inwards. With fingers curled around his forearms, he trudged on, even as the glares of this neighborhood burned holes in his flesh.

"Okay, Leon," he told himself, "keep it together." He took a breath for several seconds, holding it to his lungs' fullest capacity, before letting out in a controlled exhale.

"Wherever you are," he spoke, peering up at the night sky, "I hope you're just as frightened as I."

There was a road that wrapped around a hillside, leading up to one of the estates. Leon didn't expect this road to be meant for vehicles, so he traversed up these dark paths with yellow dashes along the middle.

"Such a strange design for a path…" Leon noticed, eyes gazing up at the series of organized dashes along the trail. "I have not the slightest idea what these lines mean." Looking back up, he noticed several signs held in place by vertical metal beams. They all had distinct colors and markings. There were these black arrows that adorned yellow-plated signs along the inner edge of these roads. One of the many signs that stuck out to him, was a red octagonal signal that read "STOP."

Leon cocked his head for a moment, before defying the command, and proceeding onward. "I don't take orders from objects."

He exited the neighborhood, and saw where the road continued to stretch over a wide horizon of hills. With eyes focused on the landscape, he traversed down the lone street. Within the lingering cloud of uncertainty and disassociation, came a sudden beam of clarity.

"I've seen the worst of mankind already," he said to himself, "I've gone where no living mortal has gone before. I hold so much power within my hands. I'm alive, and I'm going to be okay. Nothing can hurt me."

Leon pulled his shoulders back, bringing his chin up. His eyes shone with newfound hope.

It was then, one of the many beasts he had seen before came speeding around the corner, tires screeching, armor rumbling. There was a growing aura of light beside him, and before his instincts kicked in, Leon's body was sent tumbling down the road, pieces of broken glass and specks of blood scattered along the pavement where he abruptly landed.

Leon was engulfed in a shroud of concussive darkness. There were voices surrounding him, about two of them, before he was jostled about.

"Where the fuck did he come from!?" one of the voices shouted.

"I don't know! Hurry the fuck up and help me get him in the trunk!"

"But the cops are behind us!" the other voice protested

"MOVE YOUR ASS!"

He didn't know what was happening to him, but the final thing he could feel was being hoisted into a dark enclosure, a door shutting right above his head. There was steady movement with the rumbling of the beast's innards, leaving Leon to wonder if he had just met his end.

"Ouh…" Leon furrowed his brow, and groaned softly. Aches echoed through his body, almost taking his breath away. His memories failed to piece themselves together, the last known whereabouts seeming like a faded dream.

"This doesn't make sense…" he muttered, his eyes slowly opening to meet obscure shapes and textures. He was almost expecting Death to come greet him again, but instead of the decrepit skeletal figure cloaked in eternal darkness, the thing that met his vision was a pink, life-size artificial bird figurine. It loomed over him with a hooked beak and black, beady eyes.

Whether or not this was a hallucination, Leon's defense arose, and he struck the figure before him. The object fell to the ground, and a muted thump against the carpeted floor could be heard. Whatever sofa-like structure he had been lying upon, Leon arose from it in full alert. His head turned, eyes widened, appearing almost like a wild animal as he absorbed this new environment. The rooms were all blended together in one shared space, with pink walls, fuchsia furniture, and other colorful fixtures. The way this space was set out seemed rather compact.

"What is this place?"

Leon was careful as to not bump into any of the closely knit furniture. He approached a shelving unit which held various framed photos. This was the first time he had ever seen a piece of time captured in a slate of paper. There was one constant variable visible in several of the pictures; a heavyset, olive-skinned male with dark, bushy hair and robust features. In one of the photos, he appeared to be standing with another male of his same ethnicity, only this man was slimmer, had more angular features, and wore what appeared to be a militaristic uniform. These people were not familiar to him in the slightest.

One of the things that caught his attention was a stack of literature sitting atop a nearby table with a low platform. He picked up one of the glossy magazines and inspected its contents. The top one was a catalogue filled with different articles of clothing for both men and women, along with tips as to what was appropriate to wear given the occasion. He looked down at his own attire, and immediately doubted himself. This was the type of thing setting him back from being a part of his environment. It was clear that he was a product of his time.

Placing the catalogue aside, he inspected the next piece of literature. Only, this wasn't ordinary literature, but rather a photo book of naked women, with a foreign adhesive keeping some of the pages together.

"Wretched!" Leon gasped, dropping the magazine back in place. However, what was truly alarming about the book of photos was the year printed on the corner of the front cover.

1951.

A look of utter shock spread across Leon's features. His eyes peeled away from the rest of the stack, and a feeling of horror produced a tidal wave over his body.

"Nineteen fifty-one. It can't be…" Leon trembled, standing back. "Dracula… what have you done?" His breath quickened, but he shook his head to rid himself of the upcoming anxiety. "I must be dreaming. This… this isn't real!"

Soon, a sharp pain in his temple appeared, causing him to hold his head in frustration and pain. His ears still rang from the previous impact, which had caused internal trauma he couldn't quite identify.

"Where am I?" Leon panicked, no longer able to contain the rising fear in his body. The rage and hatred he felt for Dracula seemed to be miles away, allowing the horror of realization to pour in. The earth shifted beneath him, a dreaded numbness sweeping along nerve endings, prompting the vampire hunter to quickly take hold of the mantle to keep himself from fainting. As his hands gripped the edge, causing the previously still photos to shake, sending one of them to the floor. A loud shatter echoed throughout the apartment.

"Oh no," he gasped, knowing this photo may have been one of the particularly important ones.

His heart skipped another beat when two voices in the next room could be heard. They became clearer, and suddenly the men from the photo appeared before him, now in color. The only difference was that the slimmer friend wasn't in uniform, and the heavy set male wore a brightly colored shirt with a red floral pattern and bulky leather jacket layered over his outfit.

"Looks like Sleeping Beauty finally woke up," the heavier gentleman began condescendingly, but his expression turned to anger when he saw the broken photo and the fallen bird figurine lying on the floor, "and broke some of my shit! What the fuck?"

Leon's erratic gaze met them, and before they had a chance to explain, he shouted, "Who are you?! And what is this place?"

The slimmer gentleman stepped forward, and raised his hands. "Hey, pal, take it easy."

" Take it easy!? " Leon protested. "I believe you may have just kidnapped me. Why should I remain calm? I demand to know what has happened!"

"Kidnap you?" The heavy set male retorted. "You're fuckin' one to make demands right now."

"Look, you were just in an accident," his friend attempted to speak, "We were only tryin' to help you. Now, if you could just sit down, and-"

"Absolutely not !" Leon exclaimed. "I need to know what this place is, who you are, and what you've done bringing me here!"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up and we'll tell you?" the heavy set man ordered with a sharpness in his voice.

Leon was taken aback, but instantly became enraged. "Excuse me?! How DARE you speak to me in such a manner!" Instinctively, he reached for his whip.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the heavier man mimicked Leon's same gesture, going towards his own weapon fastened to his hip. Leon caught a brief glimpse of the other man's equipment; an oddly-shaped metallic piece that contoured the human hand. There was a loop where the index finger could fit through.

"What is that?" Leon stared directly at this object, with no clue what its capabilities were.

"I'll tell you what the fuck this is," the man threatened, "this is the last thing you're gonna see if you don't stop fuckin' with me. Now, are you gonna play nice? Or do I have to fill you full of lead?"

"I don't have to answer to you," Leon scowled. "I'm the one who's owed an explanation!"

Just as the man was about to withdraw the weapon from his side, his calmer friend stepped in and grasped his arm. "Joe, seriously?! Do you really wanna have a bloodbath in the middle of your fuckin' apartment?"

Leon detected an erratic nature from the offender before him, but directed his attention towards the slimmer counterpart. This one had to be the logical, mild-mannered one of the pair.

"Why do you think this son of a bitch was wandering around in the suburbs, Vito?!" the man, supposedly named Joe, started doubtfully, "He was gonna fuck with the heist, and he almost fuckin' did!"

"Whatever happened earlier," Leon started, "I assure you, I in no way want to interfere with your affairs."

"You already did." Joe redirected his attention to Leon, and began to traverse in his direction with a dangerous look in his eyes. Vito physically cut off his friend's path, raising his arms in a protective fashion.

"You're being a fuckin' idiot." his colleague began. "Look at the way he's dressed. How he's talking. Did you consider that maybe he's not fuckin' from here? That maybe this is just a misunderstanding? That maybe he's just some retarded fuckin' tourist?"

Joe stared back at Leon with heavy distrust. "He's a witness. You know what we do with witnesses."

"Just use your fuckin' head for a minute." Vito ordered. He leaned in towards his friend, and audibly whispered, "Follow my lead."

Vito stepped forward and began to speak. "We're the ones in charge, here. So that means we're gonna ask you the questions, and you're gonna keep your fuckin' mouth shut. Acapice?"

Leon gulped, and finally mustered a "Fine." from his lips. He remained standing, his hand pressed firmly against the Vampire Killer.

"Now," Vito started, "what's your name?"

The vampire hunter hesitated, but realized the only course which would assure his survival was complete honesty. "My name is Leon… Belmont."

"Funny," Joe snorted, "don't have many fuckin' Belmonts running around Empire Bay. At least none that I've ever heard of. Are you a mick?"

"A what?"

"A mick," Joe repeated, "'cause you're obviously not a Sicilian."

"I fail to see how my lineage is relevant."

"Look, whatever," Vito interrupted, "the point is, you got in our way tonight. Naturally, we want answers. But it looks like you need some answers too, so why don't we politely take turns getting to know one another before we decide what to do with you."

"What to do with me?" The vampire hunter showed concern.

Vito circled around Leon, disregarding his anxious nature while sizing him up and picking apart his appearance. "Where ya from, Leon?"

"The last place I remember being," Leon began, "was in an abandoned chapel in Wallachia. The year, as far as I recall, was 1094."

"Go on," Vito crossed his arms.

"When I entered the chapel, I saw my enemy," the hunter continued, "he was doing something… strange. His actions must have had to involve powerful sorcery. Otherwise, how would he and I have ended up here? I'm still trying to remember what all happened before the flash."

"The flash?" Vito and Joe glanced at each other.

"When I found him," Leon spoke, "he was manipulating some form of power. This event led me to believe this was a relic he possessed, not some disastrous spell."

"Did you get a good look at it?" Joe asked.

"I can't remember…" Leon confessed, lowering his head, eyes gazing to the floor. "My memory fails me. The next thing I knew, I ended up somewhere not too far from here. There were so many people staring at me, cursing me in such a rude manner. All I thought to do was run."

"Where'd you think you'd end up?" Vito prodded.

"Somewhere safe, at least." Leon faced towards the living room window, wistfully looking out into the night sky. "The people weren't the ones that frightened me the most, but rather these massive, hard-shelled beasts that took over the surrounding areas. The same kind of beast that struck me just moments ago."

There was a pause, as Vito and Joe looked at each other. They cleared their throats in embarrassment.

"You mean cars?" Joe piped up.

"What?" Leon glanced at him, confused.

"What you got hit by," Joe explained, "that was a car."

Leon furrowed his brow, a baffled expression glazing over his face. "What a vague name for such a deadly force!"

Joe chuckled. "Cars ain't supposed to be that deadly! Vito here is just a shitty driver."

"Joe!" Vito shouted in warning at his friend.

"So it was you who controlled that thing?" Leon glanced over to Vito, looking almost betrayed. "How could you?"

"Hey, come on," Vito huffed, "it was a crazy fuckin' accident. Look, I didn't mean to hit you with our car. I'm really fuckin' sorry about that. But you should know better than to cross the street without looking both ways."

"I was not aware of this custom." Leon spoke defensively.

"Now, when you said 1094," Joe interjected, "what exactly were you doing back then?"

"I'm a vampire hunter," Leon answered, "however, I left my title behind with the church, as I needed to save my betrothed from a powerful vampire who controlled an entire forest, locking her away with him in eternal night. I rescued her, but," he gingerly touched his whip with a solemn manner, "things… didn't go as planned. I defeated the vampire, only for my new enemy to rise from his ashes, stronger than before."

"Wait, wait, wait," Vito paused, "hold the fuckin' phone. Did you say vampires ?!"

Joe doubled over and began laughing. "I thought you were already fuckin' nuts! Now you're talkin' about fictional fuckin' creatures? Vampires ain't real!"

"Vampires are definitely real," Leon retorted, "and there is one here in the city right now. He could be anywhere, plotting humanity's demise with this relic still in his possession. This could mean the end of the world! What more can I say to make you take this seriously?"

"Can you give us a sec?" Vito interrupted. He looked at Joe, and gestured to meet him in the other room. Joe glanced at Leon one more time, and proceeded towards the area with his friend. Leon sighed, not appreciating the condescending attitude these men emit with such certainty. Unfortunately, he had to deal with it for his own survival.

There were whispers and occasional comprehensible words being exchanged right before him, in a manner as though he wasn't even there. Leon crossed his arms and waited for these men to reach a decision.

They waltzed back into the room, a new demeanor encompassing the both of them. "I'll tell you what," Vito started, "we'll help you find this fucker. And then, we're gonna get you back home. Not sure how yet, but if we put our heads together, we can make something happen."

"But first," Joe smirked, "we need to get you into some new threads. Your sense of fashion went out of style, what, nine-hundred years ago?"

Giving one last glance to his original outfit, he sighed. "I suppose that's for the best."