Last time we left Neil Belmont, he had navigated a hedge maze by covering every square inch of it while bleeding heavily from a chainsaw wound. In his mind, Neil had already gone through the hedge maze and was on his way back out. In truth, he's now officially passed through the maze, and is closer to Dracula's Castle, while thinking he's leaving to go get help to solve a riddle that doesn't exist.

But now, there's a chainsaw maniac coming right for him!

"Cripes!" yelled Neil, gritting his teeth in grim anticipation of the slaughter at hand. "Isn't there some sort of dual card spellcasting system I can use to defeat this foe?"

As if the fates themselves wished to answer his question, a squirrel launched itself out of a bush and gave a vicious bite into Neil's leg before scurrying off from whence it came.

"Cripes!" Neil yelled. "That really hurt!"

And so, Neil ran. He ran for his miserable life. The chainsaw maniac chased him down through the dark, grassy field. It was nighttime, even though Neil explicitly became tired and passed out for a sleeplike period in the last chapter. He went to sleep in the morning, and woke up at night again. Perpetual night. All-encompassing night, spreading a black veil forever across the forlorn sun and widowing the equally forlorn moon. Or something.

Wolves also hopped out of the bushes and came after Neil, but he jumped over them and they kept going. This is Castlevania, after all. I mean, damn.

Running still, Neil came across a candle floating... well, it was floating right in the freaking air. He's in a field for Christ's sake, there's no walls for this candle to be attached to, but there it was. There it was and he jumped up and he broke it open with his sword, and a dagger came out. Picking up the dagger, he turned and threw it at the chainsaw maniac, who was hit but unaffected. Wait, did they have chainsaws back then? Wait, when's "then"? I never set a date on this story. Sure they did. They didn't have vampires either, so sure, give them whatever they want. There was a robot there too.

The robot said hey to Neil. "Hey, Neil," it chimed in its robotic voice.

"Yo," said Neil. I know they didn't have 'yo' back then. They do now. Mm-hmm...

Anyway, Neil then threw the dagger at the chainsaw maniac again. He then gazed up at the heavens and scratched his head. "Didn't I already throw it? How'd I do it again?" he asked, not noticing that even still it was RIGHT THERE IN HIS HAND. In fact, in scratching his head, he had stabbed himself right in the head. Blood was pouring everywhere.

"Is it raining?" Neil asked, feeling moisture on his hand. He took a look at his hand, seeing the blood all over it. "Maybe some silly Cherubim got into God's 'Big Jar of Rain' which he waters our crops with and monsoons the heathen spice islands to death with, and they put some red food coloring in it just to be extra funny! Hee hee! Silly angels. Maybe if they weren't so busy with their little games and pranks, they could save mankind from the unholy abomination of the living damned so that I wouldn't have to. ...The bastards."

It struck Neil at this point, Neil being rather a Kool-Aid connoseiur from running the Belmont Kool-Aid stand so often, that perhaps this red substance was Cherry Kool-Aid, his favorite flavor. After all, adding red food coloring and adding Kool-Aid mix and sugar to the Big Jar of Rain would both be about equally likely. Angels did love sweet, sweet taste, after all. Or at least, Neil was arbitrarily inclined to think so at this time.

Raising the bloody, knifebound hand to his face to taste the blood and see if it was Kool-Aid, a voice called out to him in his head.

"Hey, dummy! What if that's blood! You'll be no better than the vampires you exist to slay!" It was Neil's own voice, in other words, one he never listened to.

"Hey, idiot!" a slightly different voice yelled, but still Neil's. "You've still got the knife in your hand! You're gonna stab yourself in the face, and I'm gonna be the only one who feels it!"

"Oh man, what's he doing?" a third voice gasped. "Hey! Who's in charge of the eyes around here! Don't you guys ever have him look at things? Wake someone up down there fast!"

"Ugh! Would you guys shut up!" a fourth demanded. "The chances are slim enough that he'll notice that psycho about to kill him, the last thing we need is you guys distracting him! You know he never listens..."

"What do you mean, he?" a fifth voice said, much more calmly. "Don't you mean... 'we'? Aren't we all at fault here? Maybe if we'd organize ourselves, clean up our acts, and stop blaming him..."

Just then, Neil bashed the knife into his face in an attempt to lick his hand. "Ow! My goddamn hand bit my lip!" he seethed. "With a knife, even!"

"...Alright, so... can we get someone down in the eye department?" one of the voices said in somewhat of a defeatist tone, breaking a momentary lull of silence.

Just then, a guy with a chainsaw arrived upon Neil and delivered a rending blow of torment into the Belmont's body. Thrown to the ground, Neil lay bleeding and agonized, his chest torn open.

Blackness, unconsciousness... that was all to be felt.

Suddenly, a voice rang out. It was the prophet, Sirius.

"Well, Neil, you went and did it."

"Sirius?" Neil asked.

"Indeed it is I. And I'm afraid I shall bear you bad news this day, young Belmont... for - "

"Hey. Where are you?"

"I am speaking to your unconscious mind through telepathy."

"Yeah, yeah, where are you though?"

"Presently I am at my home in the Dread Valley of Azah-Kar."

"So, you're not where I am, right?"

"That's correct."

"And, I'm listening to you... from a distance?"

"Yes, I - "

"Audio media, being transmitted - "

"It's not actually audio, merely the perception of - "

"Yeah, yeah... but your name's Sirius, right?"

"Somehow, you remember that much... yes, that's my name."

"So... you're like the Sirius Satellite Radio thing."

"...Pardon?"

"You know, like with the dog. In your car?"

"Err..."

"And we'll all float on okay..."

"Neil."

"I hear it's kind of expensive..."

"NEIL!"

"Whaaat!"

"I KNOW I've told you this before. I've no interest in playing into your completely impossible awareness of assorted culture and knowledge of the future! Even though I know these things too, being a prophet and all. Your idiocy, capable of transcending the reality of its own severe limitations, and tapping into facts you have no right to know, is a danger to the very fabric of reality, and I... well.. you know what? It doesn't matter. I came to tell you that you're dead."

"...Eh? Hey, Sirius. I don't know what most of that stuff you just said was, but it ended in you saying I'm dead. Is that like a standalone thing, or is it part of the stuff I didn't understand?"

"...Standalone."

"Oh. ...Well, shit then."

"Indeed."

"So, what do I have to do? Climb a beanstalk?"

"Where the... no. I don't even care. Yes, Neil, you must climb to the top of the great beanstalk."

"Sweet."

"Goodbye, Neil. Now, I suppose I must go tell your father to prepare himself for action." With that, Sirius shuffled off to attend to his business, leaving Neil to float through a bizarre world of strange spiraling balls of light.

Knowing the rarity and peril of this situation, Neil took a daring choice and covered his mouth with his hands, speaking in a fairly cool announcer voice. "Space. Man's only form of revenge against God."

A great white light began to shine from above him, forcing him to squint and stare up into it in bewilderment. "Dearly beloved," he said, still in the deep, echoey voiceover, "we are gathered here today to ROCK AND ROLL!"

He then started to make guitar noises and bob his head intently, eyes no longer open to view the slowly encompassing purity of the other side's embrace. A warmth was spreading over his body, and the delicate whispers of angels beckoned to him. "Paging Doctor Octopus," he called out in juvenile glee, in this situation perhaps the most inappropriate comment in the history of speech.

At once, Neil was whisked from the radiance of death, brought to a sudden, chilling consciousness to stare up at the night sky above. Oddly, a patch of the sky was woman-shaped and woman-colored. Also, a woman seemed to be speaking to him in words that sounded more like not words, but instead fuzzy, harsh-smelling colors like fire and glass. The words "Are you alright?" were much akin to having one's teeth jackhammered away by their eyeballs. Fortunately, by the time the parts of Neil's brain that hated pain were back to normal, so were the parts of him that hurt.

"Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Apparently the woman-shaped part of the sky had suddenly descended upon him in the form of a woman and had assumed the voice of the woman who had been speaking two seconds earlier.

"Hola?" Neil uttered, staring vapidly before sitting up and rubbing his head. Luckily, the knife was no longer lodged in his hand.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish!" the woman gasped apologetically.

"Eh, me neither," muttered Neil, looking her over. "What do you want?"

"Ah... My name is Annelise Silverton. I'm a servant of the church... I found you this way and I healed you."

"Duh, that's not what I asked," Neil snapped back. "I said what do you want, you filthy hooker?"

Annelise covered her mouth in shock. It's true she was quite the attractive woman, with long, elegant blonde hair and angelic features, but she didn't see how she was a hooker. Averting her gaze somewhat, she spoke in a shamed, meek tone, "I, I just want to help."

"And help you did, help by doing absolutely NOTHING." Neil shook his head angrily and stood up, dusting himself off, not noticing how his wounds were all healed without a single scar or remnant. "God, what a whore."

Annelise stood as well, folding her hands together and blushing at the shame of being called a whore. "I suppose my outfit is too revealing," she suggested, gently smoothing out the length of her dress to cover the leg-showing gap of the slit that reached up to her hip. "Although... this is the standard fare for spellcasting women."

"I'm not talking about that, dummy," Neil answered, walking up to her and pointing sharply at her chest. "I'm talking about THESE things."

The woman's face flushed and she covered her eyes with her fingers. "Y-you mean my... well... my..."

"Look at them! For crying out loud!"

This baffled Annelise, for her top showed no speck of skin aside from her neck, and wasn't tight or suggestive in the least. Nonetheless, guilt filled her. "Ah...! I'm so sorry..."

Neil scratched his head then put his hands on his hips and looked away. "Yeah. You should be. How am I supposed to fight evil with sluts like you running around geting in my way?"

She bowed and took a step backwards, about to murmur out another apology when a curiosity struck her, making her peer up gently. "Fighting evil? Th-then you're here to irradicate Castlevania?"

"O'course! I'm a Belmont, you know... ah, what the hell. Hold on, my cell's going off." Neil popped a mobile phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, looking annoyed as he barked out a "Yo."

"YOU'RE NOT A BELMONT!" Terrence Belmont yelled into the phone. "I disowned your sorry ass! ...Also, my condolences on your recent death. I heard from Sirius."

"Oh, thank you so much. My nonexistent family appreciates your support in this difficult period. But, I have to go. Seeya dad, I mean, dude." Neil hung up and looked to Annelise. "So, what's up? You love me long time?"

She didn't really get that, so she resumed the previous conversation. "Mr. Belm... or rather..."

"Call me Neil!" He smiled, and she smiled back.

"Neil, then."

"Oh, so what! Are we on a first name basis now? Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Annelise... my name's Annelise."

"Call me Neil!" He smiled; she somewhat warily smiled back.

"Alright... Mr. Belmont. I wonder if you might allow me to go with you?"

"I don't have much need for a village bicycle, but sure."

He may have been shamelessly demeaning and vulgar, but she saw the good in him, and was overjoyed at his approval.

"Together," she said softly with a brave smile and a nod. "Together I believe that we can do this."

"Whutevs," Neil blurted, waving his hand and walking off. "I'm gonna go scout ahead."

"Thank you... Neil." She watched him go with a deep admiration for his bravery and vigilance... for he was truly the hero of whom she had heard.

"Oh, by the way," Neil called back to her. Snapping to attention, she ran to catch up, eager to assist. "Hey, you listening? There's this puzzle up ahead, and..."

--------Whew---------

I added a new character... Go figure! By the way, she's not dumb. She's just quite naive and innocent and pure, trusting and tolerant... in effect, you could call her dumb, but it's not exactly the same. Don't even ask why Neil keeps calling her a whore.