Scene 2

The Crimson Life

Normally when an individual awakens, the blackness that smothers to infinity fragments into a myriad of colors to finally define what is reality. It breathes life into textures and refines with an inexplicable accuracy the environment. In essence, sight should return.

But ever was Adrian an exception.

At this moment, he could see nothing, though his other senses appeared unaffected. Dampness permeated his seat, a stone throne as far as he could figure, contributing to the golden prince's feeling of ill-ease. Fluttering, perhaps of winged night creatures, filled his ears and stirred the air about him. With paralyzing terror, Adrian found both arms tightly lashed to the chair. That snake of fear permeated him entirely as two hands, one moist, one chill, darted along his chest.

I'm blind! was his initial thought. Swallowing down the dry fear that made his throat raspy the former Prince of Darkness banished trepidation and instead instilled an air of indignance. They could not do this to him! And with chilling realization, Adrian had to admit that they could do this to him. They were doing this to him.

Fear has many shades. Sometimes its that of a mild trepidation, a light color. Oftentimes, its sheer terror is an intense, dark color. Whatever the shade it's a part of all humanity. And Adrian, now of that persuasion, was experiencing the later. Emotions swayed within him back and forth going from one extreme to another. It had been years since his transformation to a full-blooded human and still emotion tripped him.

Trial and error. He'd learn one step at a time.

But would he live long enough to profit from it?

"I demand to know who is responsible for this. I demand to know what you've done with Trevor," declared Adrian in a clear voice, investing it with more confidence than he felt. Still, he was a nobleman, bound by tradition to remain composed. "This instant! And you will cease this foolishness upon me."

High pitched, shrieking laughter answered him.

"Still authoritative, Prince Alucard? Must run in the blood. I know your father was quite the demanding lord. Full of charisma and power. Until his son murdered him."

The voice...familiar...evil...

Stilling the fear which fueled his heart to thump, the golden-haired nobleman called out defiantly, "There is no one by that name. Alucard is dead."

More laughter. "Alucard is very much alive–he sleeps within you."

"No, Adrian is alive in his place. And as for my father, he shall rest in peace, and never more be given cursed flesh."

The voice did not immediately respond. A rustling noise, of cloth, informed Adrian that this enigmatic individual approached. The two hands that clamped on his wrists vanished like mist over the horizon, replaced by a single hand. It cupped his chin, very reminiscence of...his father! That fateful night when Dracula had done the same to him. Was it...!

No, my father's fingers were fine-boned and strong not like this gnarled hand.

Then the truth was revealed. The blindfold came off.

Shaft.

In a low tone Adrian muttered, "I should have known. Release me."

His captor chuckled. "Willful brat you are. The biting edge of untempered steel. But that will change." The priest fiddled with the blindfold, twisting it into knots that resembled the Tepes' stomach. A most unpleasant sensation he could testify. Why had they even used it? He was unconscious at the abduction–his kidnappers couldn't be worrying that he'd identify the prison. Nor did his sight provide any threat.

Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning. Shaft wanted to terrify him; a scare tactic. Kidnap him boldly from his own home, drug him in such a sick manner, blindfold him so he'd be impaired and susceptible to sense-crushing fear.

That made him angry. VERY ANGRY.

"Say what you will, Shaft but I've yet to yield. And I don't think I'll break that habit." Some of his lordly arrogance bleed through to the tone.

The dark priest's grin could madden. "Ah, still resistant. That fire burned within your father...how magnificent it was!"

Stiffening in his bonds, Adrian replied, "How evil."

"Evil is beautiful. I shall recreate you in his image."

Those were his father's words! Adrian shuddered. Then he resumed being still. It seemed such a twisted symphony–fearful and composed all in one terrible note. But Shaft had yet to do anything against his will since he was a child so what made any of them think now would be different? Them...his gaze shifted to the other captors present. One of tattered robes, scythe, and a skeletal formation. The other of a ridiculously-revealing outfit, dark eyes, and crimson hair. Death and the Succubus. How appropriate.

Fear and Sex. The downfall of many angels...

"I have been sanctified of my vile birthright."

"You are...dead...wrong, Alucard," hissed Death.

The Succubus added seductively, "I–we–liked you the way you were so we decided to revive your vampiric side...You were a very handsome half-breed, indeed!"

Chuckling darkly, the dark priest indicated with a hand that the two may return to their indecent handling. Death resumed his painful claw marring of the former dark prince's neck. The Succubus' fingers did erotic swirls in his chest, peeking them into his silk night robe. And he was helpless like a child at its conception to their cruel fantasies...

Meanwhile, Shaft strode over to a wooden cabinet, sandals slapping against the stone floor as his purple-and-orange robes whispered like shadows. He withdrew two items: a golden goblet and a vial containing red wine.

No, not red wine, Adrian realized, blood! The liquid poured into the cup with a swishing sound. What were Shaft's sick designs? As ever, he schemed and concocted nightmares. A fanatic to the rulership of the undead and Count Dracula's most loyal human worshiper, more than once the dark priest was responsible for the unscheduled remanifestation of Adrian's father. The golden nobleman had thought Shaft dead after their confrontation but apparently he was very much alive and at work to further the evil.

My father, Richter, Maria, Annette...all of them have been on the receiving end of Shaft's manipulations. Am I next?

If so, God have mercy on his soul–cause only He could!

Shaft snapped his fingers. "You'll drink of the cup of...'life'."

With rehearsed swiftness the probing hands shifted from their original positions. They clamped onto the champagne-eyed nobleman's shoulders and chin. Adrian struggled but to no avail. He could see the empty eyes of Death gleam maliciously; could detect the same expression from the Succubus' full lips. Shaft approached, his hands gripping the chalice like God's (or more accurately, the Devil's) blood himself.

"Never!" he cried defiantly.

"Yes...Yes, my child, a boy should respect his elder's wishes."

Adrian didn't much like this verbal sparring but anything was better than what he imagined Shaft had planned. "I am over four hundred years old. You are little more than seventy. Speak not of respect; you know nothing of it."

"Tsk. Tsk. I come bringing you a great gift–of eternal life."

"Of eternal hell!"

Shaft shrugged and leered as he shoved the goblet under his captivee's nose. "This–" he gestured with a bony finger. "–is the last remnants of your father. It is still, as you might imagine, quite active. The chemical agents seeking human nourishment continue to function. Once consumed it will fuse with the blood already present to form artificial vampirism."

"What are you going to do?" asked the fair-haired man dryly. "Make me drink it?"

The smile deepened. "Exactly."

"What?!"

"Hold him."

"No!"

He would have a dark rebirth. He was trapped–in a mad web of lust, dread, and blood.

Both the reaper of wayward souls and the demon of seduction firmly restrained Adrian, preventing any movement. Desperate, the prince jammed his mouth shut. His beautiful golden eyes flashed with volumes of fury and fear.

Shaft expertly peeled his lips ajar as a mother might do to a disobedient child. Then he forced the burning liquid down his victim's throat. Naturally, much of the sticky substance erupted back up to splatter both priest and prince. But the damage had been done.

With Adrian gagging and gasping, his face radiating horror, Shaft ordered his release. Reluctantly, the two who flanked him did so. "Now, my dear Alucard, you'll see. You'll understand. You and your son can once again reunite with a minor distinction this time. Fight for the side of the darkness!"

"Rot in hell! I demand to see Trevor!"

Laughter grated Adrian's ears. Shaft's. The Succubus'. Death's...and his own son's!

"Trevor!" cried the blond nobleman as he recovered from the fit of coughing.

Little more than twenty and quite handsome, a brown-haired man stood aside Shaft. He wore a simple attire of ebony overcoat and an azure suit. The eyes held no mercy. Just deadly purpose, deadly rage. "Ah, father, it's about time we spend some quality time together–how about making up for all those lost years?"

"Trevor, please, listen to me–"

"Enough! I've heard enough!"

"But you haven't heard anything at all!"

"And that's about all I want to hear," the blue-eyed former vampire hunter declared. He clenched a fist. "It's time we both worked toward a viable goal. I was a fool before. I'll not be one again."

Those eyes! A crisp blue! Like her eyes!

Trevor disdained his father for the moment, instead turning to the dark priest. "Release him. The duty has been done. Now we wait."

"You heard him!" the priest snapped. "Let Alucard go."

Even as the new blood merged with the old, making a sickening rush in his veins, Adrian struggled. Death and the demon did again as commanded, though the Succubus didn't relinquish him without a lick to the ear. He pulled away, repulsed, his thoughts immediately returning to Maria and his friends. Were they safe?

"For the last time, Shaft, my name is Adrian–not Alucard!" came his lethal hiss, still as smooth as a dagger despite the circumstances.

More chuckles from the dark priest. Trevor answered for him. "You've denied your responsibilities and your heritage for too long and it has come back to haunt you. Now run while you still can."

Why are they letting me go? They have no more use of me?

He doubted it was that simple.

With one last, urgent glance that would pierce the iciest of hearts, but did not pierce his son's, Adrian raced out the nearest exit. He stumbled through the many corridors that he recognized as Castlevania. Everywhere a clock chimed, reminiscent of the Clock Tower. It was a dreadful reminder of what would become of him.

He would be a vampire by dawn.