Disclaimer: We do not own DOA.
Chapter 1 - It Begins
It was summer, the middle of July. The night sky hung over the forest showing off its bright stars. The humid forest provided the perfect place for insects. The flap of dragonfly wings and the chirp of the crickets created the music of the forest. A pond lied amongst the green forest. Moss floated on the face of the pond alongside wide lily pads. Fireflies hovered over the pond, their light reflecting off the water. A single toad sat atop of a lily pad, releasing croaks from its gut. But the toad was silenced when the snapping of twigs sounded through the woods. The surface of the pond rippled from the vibration of heavy footsteps coming near the water. The toad quickly jumped off the lily pad and into the water in a splash.
A man fumbled onto the pond side. He fell down in a heavy thud, his face meeting the moist dirt and grass. The black helmet in his hand had fallen with him and rolled into the pond, stopping before going any further. He remained where he fell as a cricket hopped onto the heel of his black armored boots and began to rub its legs together, making chirps. Ants filed up his gauntlets and crossed the back of his cuirass to step off on the other side. Still he lied. A dragonfly fluttered onto his ear and flexed its wings. He blinked his blue eyes before finally picking himself up, causing the dragonfly and the cricket to hop away.
He had a pounding headache and couldn't remember what happened to him that late evening. He was returning home from the castle upon his horse, Blitz, when his vision had become blurred. He remembered blinking to regain his vision, but blinking had only made it worse. It blurred then turned into red. He remembered having his sword in his hands and opening the door to his bedroom . . .
The man quickly threw off his gauntlets to rub his face with his warm hands. He pushed his black hair back only to wipe his hands on his cuirass after feeling the sweat in his hair. He felt sick. She was slumped in the corner of the room, in a puddle of blood. It was evident upon her blonde hair, her pale skin, and her white dress. She had been waiting for him to return home only to be slaughtered by the one she loved. His sword told it all. He had spilt his wife's blood with his own might.
The man reached into the pond and wet his face with the pond's cool water. He couldn't get her image out of his sights. Her father wouldn't be able to take the news, he knew this.
I should have known this day would come, he told himself.
Filled with sorrow and despair, the man held back the tears and wearily picked up his helmet then stood. He realized ants covered his cuirass and wiped off as many of them as he could before turning to go back where he had came.
Another man was crouching on a branch high above in the trees. He had his hand upon the tree trunk as he look down at the armored man below him. He studied the man carefully with his green eyes. He could tell that the man was much taller than he and much stronger also. By the black armor, he knew that he was one of the king's special knights. But what concerned the man in the trees the most were the bizarre vibrations he felt emitting from the armored man. It soon occurred to him that the armored man held black magic within his being. And it must have taken its toll upon him.
The witch, he stated, How long has he been infected? What has he done?
He was going to find out. He jumped off the branch of the tree and landed two yards behind the armored man. The armored man heard him and immediately identified him as a thief. They occasionally preyed on the weak and were as swift as the wind. But he did not the have the strength or willpower to defend himself.
"Kill me and take what you like," he muttered to the thief behind him.
The man from the tree crouched on the ground the way he landed, not bothering to stand unless he was tempted to dodge any attacks from the armored man. But after hearing his words, he knew the armored man was in grief and was ready to die for whatever he had done. The man stood straight up.
"My name is Ryu Hayabusa, witch hunter," he stated with stern eyes and an open voice, "I have come for answers."
There was silence as the armored man tried to register what the thief had said. His head ached and he knew if he thought anymore then he would pass out. He relaxed his mind and stood straight up as best he could. He finally turned to face Ryu. When Ryu got a better view of his face, his eyes lightened at the sight of his grieving expression. But the armored man noticed this and tried to hide his despair.
"What answers are you looking for?" he asked in a low tone, so low Ryu could barely hear him.
Speaking too loud would only make him burst into tears. The sorrow was too much.
Ryu took a breath before speaking, "Who . . . What are you?"
He had almost forgotten the knight wasn't human. Not anymore.
He knows. He must have been trained to identify black magic, the armored man thought to himself.
He gave himself time to study Ryu's attire. He was clad in brown and green clothing as to blend in with the forest. He donned brown boots, pants, and a tight fitting shirt. On his hands were green leather gloves and a green belt around his waist. Isaac could tell there was a sword on his back from the hilt peeking over his shoulder. He also noticed things shining on his belt. He recognized them as silver stakes, the type of stakes used to slaughter vampires. Isaac had never seen a vampire himself in all his years as the king's knight. He had begun to believe they were myths. But the witch hunter was carrying them . . .
"My name is Isaac Williams, Master Knight of King Matthew," he spoke a bit louder this time.
Ryu crossed his arms and scowled the man. It was not the answer he was looking for.
"I asked you what you are, not who you are. I know who you are. Although I could care less for your name."
His harsh words stung Isaac in his heart. He was not in the condition to receive such harsh treatment. He had lost the one he loved the most in life and left with no one to love or love him. Disregard of his status amongst the living was not what he needed. But if he wanted to get rid of the man before, he would have to answer his questions so he could go about his way and face his fate.
"I truly don't know what I am," he responded, looking down at the ground.
"Who cursed you?" Ryu questioned him abruptly, "Give me their name."
"Why?"
Isaac was now scowling Ryu. He had had enough of being treated like a child. Who was Ryu to question him?
Isaac knew the exact person that cursed him: Christie, the white-haired witch of Crystal Cavern. Her minions had attacked the king's berlin that raining afternoon. He along with other knights had to fight off the zombie-like demons. They had rotting flesh and torn clothing. Every time one was knocked down, another rose from the ground to continue the fight. It was a bloodbath. The king was in fear and the knights were growing weary. Their attempts to kill off the demons were to no avail. More were appearing from the ground. They were outnumbered. One by one the knights were being dragged from the safety of their group to be cannibalized by the demons. Isaac remembered every bit of it. He remembered their screams that were cut short in an instant. He remembered trying to save one of them, but the demons blocked him from moving further.
Then it had happened. He felt a sharp pain in his neck and thought for sure one of the demons had attacked him. But when he turned, he saw a woman in a black dress and cloak with the hood over her white hair. Only her pale chin was visible underneath the hood. She stood on a hill overlooking the berlin with a red crystal in her hand that she quickly hid. Isaac knew this woman and that she must have stung him with something. He immediately suspected poison.
The woman had turned and ran off out of sight behind the hill. That was when her minions had quickly disappeared underneath the ground, leaving behind bloodied armor and corpses of the once living knights. Isaac pulled the tiny shard out of his neck and studied it. A small drop of liquid emitted from the tip of the shard. He had not been poisoned. He would have been dead by then. He had been cursed . . .
Isaac told no one of the witch's attack on him. Not even his wife. If he did, he would be banished or even executed if the king saw it fit. And he would never have the chance to wed the woman he loved. The cursed were hazardous to society and there wasn't a known way to cure them. The witch had begun the end of his happiness the day she cursed him.
I will get my revenge, Isaac told himself, clutching his fist as if her neck were between his grasp, She will die for making me kill the one I love! I can't face the king with my crime if I want to live to see her die . . .
Isaac was filled with a new resolve and the strength to go on about his life for the sake of his deceased wife. Ryu noticed his sudden change of emotion and the trace of black magic that burned within it as well.
"I will kill her myself. I swear it!" Isaac vowed, raising his fist at Ryu.
Ryu did not budge. He stood with his arms crossed and the scowl upon his face. The knight was ignorant. All the king's knights were. They knew nothing of a witch's magic. The demon within Isaac would soon grow and consume his sanity. He would become barbaric, spilling innocent blood and destroying himself in the end. Ryu didn't bother letting the knight know.
"Go on and kill the witch in your state, warrior," Ryu urged Isaac.
One less knight to get in my way, Ryu thought.
Isaac glared back into the eyes of the witch hunter one last time, before bringing his fist back and turning his back on him. He stormed away, disappearing within the forest in a matter of seconds. Ryu had watched him until he felt another presence nearby. He stood still so whoever it was wouldn't know he knew they were present. His eyes slowly trailed off to his right to get a glimpse of whoever it was.
Demon, he stated.
The scent and vibrations were unmistakable. Ryu slowly reached a hand up to the hilt of his sword when a sudden flash appeared to his side. He jerked his head to witness a bright ball of light coming his way in an ear piercing whistle. He quickly somersaulted out of the range of the ball and landed gracefully before a thorn bush, his sword drawn and ready for any further attempts on his life. The ball of light had rammed into a tree, causing a brighter flash before completely disappearing into the air. As soon as the light had died down, a demon appeared several yards from Ryu's sword range. It was a red demon covered in fur with black horns upon its head and spikes along its spine. It had black claws in its paws and long ears. There was a large, green crystal hanging off its neck which Ryu identified as one of Christie's. The demon obviously belonged to her.
The demon floated in the air, snorting with its snout and glaring at Ryu with black eyes. Ryu didn't take the demon as a threat. He killed plenty of demons like the one before him. It was as small as a fox. It must have been a messenger. A messenger who wanted to be taken seriously.
"Is there something you want?" Ryu asked it, smiling at its attempt to appear threatening.
Ryu sheathed his sword and placed his hands on his hips, waiting for an answer.
"Christie has something for you," the demon spoke in a hoarse voice, "Even if you were to find out what it is, knowing will never save you from it. Be ready to die in a matter of years."
Ryu laughed, "In a matter of years?! It'll take her that long to kill me?!"
The demon didn't give Ryu a harder glare, but instead, laughed with him. A silent, sinister laugh. The witch hunter had no idea what would be headed to him years from now. The demon had the pleasure of knowing this.
"You fool! Master Christie is preparing something grand for her archrival. Your fate is worse enough for you to enjoy life for a couple years until then . . ."
Ryu had ceased laughing once he heard this. A frown was quickly placed upon his face.
What does that witch have in mind? Ryu asked himself.
The demon could be exaggerating the truth. But even this species of demon wasn't arrogant enough to make bad news worse.
"You and the rest of the world will cease to be and Master Christie will reign supreme!" it stated with a corrupt grin.
It knew its words were finally getting under Ryu's skin. Christie must have really been confident and proud of his future demise to send a demon to warn him of his death years beforehand. What force of black magic could the witch possess that could destroy his and all lives?
Christie had too much power ever since she first enthralled her parents when she was younger. He remembered that day. He was only six and lived a few houses from hers. He remembered standing on the paved road one cold night in front of her cottage alongside his father and the other villagers. Christie's parents were the subject of the villagers' chatter. But what happened to her parents was what he wanted to know. The door to her home had opened and men in armor were carrying her parents out of the cottage. Ryu remembered their faces, mouth and eyes wide open, their tongues sat in the back of their throat. And their arms were firmly against their sides. The villagers had begun an uproar and Ryu was horrified at the state her parents were in.
Christie had appeared from the depths of the cottage, holding the hand of an old woman. Ryu recognized the woman to be her grandmother that his father had often warned him to stay away from. His father had pulled him close when they came from the cottage. Ryu remembered looking up at his father to see him glaring at the grandmother. He looked over at the woman and saw her looking back at his father with an amused smirk upon her face. And Christie didn't seem a bit concerned for her parents. She watched as the knights concealed them from the rest of the world with thick blankets then hauled them away in a black berlin with black horses.
The villagers started to slowly scatter when the berlin disappeared over the hills. Ryu remembered his father leading him away from the front of her cottage when he looked back at Christie and saw her smile at him. And when his father and he were back in the safety of their cottage, his father warned him repeatedly to stay away from Christie and her grandmother. And every time, he replied that he understood.
Days afterwards, a rumor had begun that Christie's grandmother was a witch. The rumor reached the kingdom and it was settled that she was to be executed. The day of her execution, the whole kingdom along with Ryu's village had been there to witness her grandmother hang. He spotted Christie in the back of the crowd on the cathedral steps. Again, she didn't seem the least bit concerned.
"Would you like to leave a message?" the demon spoke up, interrupting Ryu's thoughts, "Is there something you would like Christie to know? Forgiveness maybe?"
The demon smirked at his last remark. It would have been amusing to see the mighty Ryu Hayabusa on his knees begging for forgiveness. But Ryu was not easily intimidated. He unsheathed his sword and began to study its exterior.
"Yes, there is," he said before readying his sword
The demon backed away at this.
"Tell her," Ryu spoke again, "she cannot scare me."
The second the demon scowled his remark, Ryu had lunged at it with his sword . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Isaac placed his hand upon the door and immediately took in a deep breath to ready himself for what he was about to see. He knew he would not be able to hold in his tears for his wife and what he done. But he had to. He had to enter his home again and dispose of her body.
He pushed the door and it swung open until it met the wall. He could smell the blood. It was a strong stench. He had smelled blood too often in his life to know exactly what it smelled like. The house was dark. The candles had died. Slowly he stepped inside, but stopped when he was only a few feet inside the house. He wasn't ready to see her again. Not in the state he had left her. But he urged himself to go on. It had to be done.
He walked on, his boots clicking against the smooth floor. He reached the doorway to their bedroom. He did not close the door when he stumbled out of the bedroom earlier that night.
This is it, he told himself.
He took another deep breath to calm himself before he proceeded to the doorway with his eyes tightly closed. He opened them and looked into the corner of the room where he left her. There she was. The same as before, but this time, she seemed more dead. Her skin and hair were more pale and her hazel eyes seemed to be turning white. The blood on her white dress was a stain now.
Isaac clutched at his heart the best he could through his cuirass. He pried his eyes from her, but it did not stop the tears from flowing. Never had he felt such love for someone until he had met her. But now she was gone, a coffin of her happiness, beauty, and love that once thrived within her.
Isaac went over to their bed, trying his best not to look upon her and took the sheets off the bed. The tears were pouring down his cheeks and off his chin as he sobbed and separated the sheets. He went over to his wife's body with his head turned so he wouldn't see her. He threw the sheets over her, then kneeled down beside her in her blood to lay her across the floor and wrap the sheets around her frail figure. Her blood was soaking the white sheets. His tears rained down onto his hands and sheets as he tucked her arms in them. When he was about to tuck her left hand into the sheets, he noticed the ring on her finger. It was the wedding ring he had received from the king, himself, to give his wife. It was an honor for Isaac. But she was dead now . . .
Isaac clutched the ring in his hand. He straightened his face to end his sobs, but tears still fell. He gently tucked her arm into the sheets, picked her up into his arms, and then began to take her out of the house. His Ardennes, Blitz, was in the front yard, eating away at the grass. Blitz picked his head up at the sight of his friend nearing him. Isaac placed his wife on his back then grabbed his rein to lead him to the hut where all the garden tools were kept. After wiping his face of tears and grabbing a shovel, Isaac mounted Blitz and rode away.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Elinore's Terrain is a vast barren land underneath timeless dark clouds. Tall, bare trees and bushes stood in cracks scattered across the dry land. An empty land that once thrived with life. The trees and bushes were once filled with green leaves and ripe fruits and berries. And green grass grew from the ground. Until she came . . .
Christie was in Crystal Cavern, a cavern underneath Elinore's Terrain that was known for its many crystals in its walls. She was seated at a desk examining multicolored crystals. They were spread across the desk alongside a candle that provided light for her. Crystals aligned the walls of the room she was in. Picks and various mining tools for the digging up of crystals sat against the wall.
Christie began to shape a crystal with a long, curved claw. She blew it to get rid of the debris from the crystal before continuing to carve again. Her work was interrupted when her room door flew open, slamming into the wall. Christie quickly turned, scowling whoever was at the door. She repeatedly told the demons not to interrupt her when she was working. But before she could yell, she realized it was her messenger. The demon stepped into the room, but fell down onto the ground before it could go any further. It breathed deeply, trying to stay alive as long as possible. Christie stood up from her seat and made her way over to the small demon. Her eyes widened at the state it was in.
A smirk appeared on her face as she began to speak, "Dongy, what happened to your other half?!"
She began to laugh. The witch hunter had sliced it in half and its lower half had disappeared into the crystal around its neck. It had a hard time staying alive long enough to make it back to its master. The demon picked up its head to speak, but it dropped back onto the ground. It was dead. Christie ceased laughing and watched as the demon was zapped into the crystal that once hung from its neck. She picked it and tossed it about in her hand.
Someday, Hayabusa, she thought before shutting her door to continue her work once again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was near morning in hills miles from the kingdom. The horizon was a light blue, but the sky overhead was still dark. There was a faint wind, regularly present in early mornings. Several birds were out soaring the sky, crying out into the morning. Blitz was upon one of the many hills, prancing about in search of rich patches of grass to eat. Isaac was sitting on another with his knees near his chest. He stared at the blank piece of paper in his lap before he reached into the grass to pick up the ring of his wife. He had not slept the whole night, afraid he would have nightmares again. Nightmares of his parents dying before him, the monsters he slew, and of himself murdering his wife. He knew the nightmares would return.
With a weary sigh, Isaac dropped the ring, picked up his quill, and then began to write:
My fair king,
I have stood beside you for years as one of your many knights. I have saved women and children from the claws of monsters that threaten the land. I have brought water to douse flames that burn homes. I have slaughtered thieves and con men in combat. And I have protected your castle from foreign powers. I watched children proudly impersonate me with wooden swords and broomstick steeds. I watched the moon fall and the sun rise from atop of your fine castle. And I watched your children grow into worthy princes and princesses. But alas, I have left your kingdom and will never return.
I cannot forgive myself for what I had known was to be. Amelia is dead. My wife that I cherished for years, her blood stains my mighty hands. I know her father would want me dead for ending the life of his only child. I know the people of the kingdom will be in disbelief. And I know you will be in disbelief as well. But this letter is from your royal knight. I will never lie to my king. But I will abandon thee to seek revenge.
Farewell.
Isaac Williams