And yet, neither the pain nor the thirst had given into even the slightest hint of subsiding.
Throughout his dreary and lonely life amongst the shadows, he had never fathomed the possibility of being able to survive normally amongst those who had condemned him. His fate had been sealed the moment that he was brought into this world, and it would forever remain that his existence be nothing more than a burden to society. Shunned by those whom he loved and despised by all others, he would never have the opportunity to live the way he wanted to.
Had the decision have been his, he never would have been a Belmont.
"Alester! Watch what you're doing!"
The warning was more than enough to pull him back to his senses, although it came a little too late to be of any real help. By the time the words had reached him, the winged-demon had already begun its descent back toward the earth, and it was purely intent on having this lunge be both its first and its last.
Although he wasn't nearly as alert as he should have been, the vampire hunter still had enough time left to quickly throw his body out of the creature's path. Through the few droplets of sweat that had been cast into the night air from his quick movement, he could easily see the detail of the monstrosity he was up against; several images of fiery-red eyes pierced through the many reflections, reaffirming the fact that this situation was not to be taken lightly.
One glance in the wrong direction. That's all it would take to lose his life.
"Come on, what do you take me for? Some kind of idiot?" The tone in Alester's voice told his younger brother that he had control of the situation, even though it didn't appear that way to him. The young boy knew this creature would be a quick slay for the experienced hunter, but something had been bothering him lately - why had his brother suddenly become so obsessed with tracking down and eliminating all of these creatures of the night? He'd always known Alester to be a very dedicated person, but never had he seen him hunt with such ferocity; there had to be more to this change than met the eye, yet he couldn't seem to grasp it...
Richter's inquiries were quickly put to rest, however, as the familiar sound of Alester's whip found its target, one final sickening howl cutting through the night before an eerie silence slowly drifted back over the calm waters of the lake.
"Hmm... what number does that make? It's somewhere in the seventies, isn't it?" Alester allowed for a faint grin to settle upon his lips as he lowered his gaze toward his latest triumph: the last remaining Half-Demon in all of Transylvania. It was almost a pity, because if he kept up this pace much longer, there would be no evil left to purge, and then he'd be out of a job.
"How much do you think this one will bring? We should be able to get at least thirty more pieces of gold out of the townsfolk, seeing as how this beau't was a bit larger than the one they described to us." The air had already begun to take on the rancid smell of rotting flesh, even though the creature had been dead for no longer than a minute at the most.
"That's all you think about anymore, isn't it? You're a Belmont, Alester." Richter, never being one for the sight of blood, quickly turned his head at the sight of the creature's mangled and torn body, the image having already been seared into his mind. "We're not in this for the money; our bloodline is the only hope these people... no, the world has against this darkness, and here you are wondering about how much profit you'll gain from killing these beasts? You're no better than He was."
A quick and sudden snare transformed Alester's expression to one of pure hatred, a look that Richter had become all too familiar with over the past few days. He knew he shouldn't have pushed the subject so far, but he was just too upset with his brother's attitude toward the situation to back down now. He was intent on discovering just what happened to the same man who he had once been proud to share the Belmont family name...