The Castle

The two priests, the policemen, the dhwampyr, and the geek arrived at the village at noon, Friday the 31st. They soon noticed something amiss. No chimneys trailed smoke; no cars were being driven; no dog barked, nor were there any signs of activity.

"This is not good," Fr. Molloy whispered.

The priest could not have made more of an understatement. As they entered the village, they saw just why the hamlet was so eerily quite. The streets were littered with the bodies of the dead. Men, women, children, pets and livestock, all slain. Blood dried in puddles in the dirt, and flies swarmed around the corpses.

"Vampires…" Fr. Molloy said. Even from high on his horse, it was obvious. No neck was unmarked, with some bearing several sets of fang marks.

"Not all of them," Dante said. "Hey," he called to Nelson, "Those guys killed by what I think?"

"Gunshot wounds."

As they road through the morbid town, they saw more victims of human violence. Near the well they found three men, one more looking barely in his teens, leaning against the brick well, rifles still clutched in their rigoring grip. Two were clearly killed by bullets, their heads riddled with holes from with streams of black blood had dried and congealed. The boy had endured the greatest cruelty: a pitchfork had been driven through his chest.

"Let get out of hear," Millhouse said.

"I agree with the shrimp, let's get to the castle."

They forced their mounts up the mountain road, up into the Borgo Pass. At they rode along the narrow mountain road for hours, the sun slowly sinking in the horizon. Their horses hastened without being told so-they were clearly eager to be out of the open before night fell. They reached the accursed castle late in the afternoon. They stopped outside the castle walls, waiting as Alucard raised one hand and sniffed the air. He dismounted, and, drawing his rapier, entered the courtyard alone. There was screaming, and sporadic gunfire, and then…silence. He returned, hair neat, clothes clean, looking, as always, coolly indifferent.

"We should have no trouble now."

They walked their horses into the courtyard, and saw Alucard's handywork. Whoever had performed the ritual, if Fr. O'Flaherty's theory was correct, had left an armed company to protect the castle from any curious snoopers.

"These were probably the guys who did some of that crap down in the village."

They tied their horses in the stables, which had clearly been restored since the Vampyr King was last slain in 1889. They then proceeded into the castle, Alucard leading the way.

"God…its so different…yet so the same…"

"Luca," Fr. O'Flaherty injected, using Alucard's nickname, "Time is not on our side."

"Right…yes. Alright, Nell, Dante, and you, four-eyes, come with me. I'll show you the chapel. The rest, go into the dungeons. If there are any of the vampires who destroyed the village still hiding in this castle, they're through that door there. Be thorough; the dungeons have chambers and passageways even my father did not know of."

"Right," Nelson said.

"Remember, stake through the heart, cut off the head, pull out fangs, dissolve fangs, then just chuck the heads off the cliff into the river. We don't have much time. At the very least, stake and decvapitate."

"C'mon guys, this ain't gonna be much fun," Nelson said as he shoulder his rifle and grabbed his mallet and stake.