DARKSTALKERS: VAMPIRE HUNTER

Chapter Nine: Dark Before Dawn

Fanfiction by Louis the Rogue

(Based on original story by Capcom Inc.)

Standing amidst the burning wreckage that had once been a village, Victor tossed aside a crunched thing that had formerly served as the head for one of the Phobos. As he began to slowly shift through the scattered stone, broken machinery, and the heavy stench of death, a battered glare was the closest thing to an expression he could manage.

In the distance, a familiar sound kept him moving, "Brother! Little brother, where are you?"

Lifting himself above the pile of death and destruction, he began to crawl, with the last of his strength toward that soothing voice. "Emily", he rasped, "Emily, I'm coming."

Closing his eyes, he could almost block out the smell of burning flesh, but the screams of the dying were a memory that would haunt him forever. It wasn't until he felt the caress of those perfect little hands on his cheek that he dared rest.

Taking his battered body into her arms, Emily helped the gentle giant to his feet, "Let's return to the laboratory, and forget about this world for awhile."

"Forget", Victor echoed, "Yes, let's go home. Home together."

"I'm going to take care of you, always", Emily promised, stroking her fingers through his tussled blonde hair, "Just like the doctor would have."

"Always?", Victor looked up at her with those big, sad eyes of his.

Emily just smiled that sunny smile for him, "Always!"

Felicia sat up with a groan, pulling the soft brown covers around her. Looking around at the room, the golden light outside meshed with the domestic shadows of the dim apartment. Amidst the strewn clothes, scattered weights, and other miscellanies he'd found room to put a desk, and on the desk was a letter she recognized. The one she'd written him just before she left for the states. He even still had her little picture at the corner of the frame it stood in.

"Jon." Everything was such a haze. When she had found him, bloodied and broken, she had barely been able to walk herself. Somehow, they had kept each other going just long enough to reach the house. The bed. In spite of everything, they had lived long enough for that, and she wished to God she could remember the details.

Pulling herself to her feet, she limped to the window and braced herself against it, looking out through the cracked glass at the morning light. As a sudden scent caught her nose, she looked down to see the indigo fur just under the ledge of the window. She was no authority on werewolves, but anyone could see he'd been shedding.

"Jon baby", she sighed, "Why can't you just tell me what's eating at you…?"

The sea to his nose and the fields to his rear, a beast was running with all his might. Running from the pain. Running from the truth. Running wherever "somewhere else" could be found.

The wolf formerly known as Jon Talbain could think only of that simple concept. Just keep running. Running forever. Running toward that cold, dark presence looming somewhere on the horizon.

"Just keep running."

Aulbath opened his eyes, slowly. Painfully. It felt as if every muscle had been stretched until the snapping point. For the first few moments he was conscious, that searing pain was the only thing on his mind.

Naturally, the next thing to flash through his mind was that instinctive need to get one's bearings. The smell of seawater filled his nose. That, and the sweet scent he had dreamed about so many long nights. "Aqueria…", he smiled dreamily.

At the sound of his voice, a slender, blue-scaled beauty of apparently the same race as he stepped into the ocean cave, an indigo-scaled infant held fast in her loving arms.

As she sat down beside her emerald-hued husband, who had managed to prop himself up on an elbow, she delicately relinquished the child to his protective hold.

"Alba", the noble merman grinned with paternal pride, "How you've grown!"

A sudden thought occurring, the grin vanished from Aulbath's face, "Quatos…"

Placing a gentle hand on his strong shoulder, Aqueria looked into his eyes, "He awaits you on the surface, dear heart. Go and see him when you are able."

"I will find you again, Furry One", he mused to himself, "Our business is not yet done."

High in the mountains, the cursed armor known as Hannya lay still, its' scattered pieces having been collected in a single mound.

Over the pile of crimson steel, the figure of a man dressed in a blue and white robe chanted quietly. Gesturing sharply with his hands, he drew Kien from its' place at his side and struck it hard into the mountain; right through the hole that yet remained in Hannya's breastplate.

As the rocks around took on a pure white glow, Oboro donned his metallic traveling hat, retrieved his walking staff, and began his journey down the mountainside. "At last", he whispered, the cool breath of Orin's spirit at his shoulder, "At last, we are freed from the demon's curse."

Had he remained but a few moments longer, the warrior spirit would have realized the awful truth of the armor. No sooner had he left than the field of white began to slowly gray, and then turned a sharp black. Within the pile of metal plating, two hateful red eyes could be seen flashing in the darkness.

Darkness and light flashing endlessly above her, Lei-Lei could feel herself slipping. Now, with the demon's end so near, she knew that her purpose had been fulfilled. "Finally, mother… we'll all be together now… all together, right sis?"

Zabel, still lying dormant from his fall, glanced over in response to the incoherent babbling and had to double take, "Woah there babe! Yer fadin' fast!"

"Yes, yes", she muttered to herself, her body becoming more and more insubstantial to behold, especially in the brooding blackness, "Just fade… away…"

And with that, she was gone. Zabel suddenly felt, for the first time since he could remember, alone. He had never felt attached to anything; to wander was his passion.

"Lei-Lei?", he muttered to nothing, "Where'd ya go, baby? You kin come back now, y'know. You kin come back now and not leave me here. By myself."

With no response, he began to grow more agitated, pulling himself to his feet and pacing about the cave, "She'll be back. Of course she will. Who could resist me? Y'hear that! You'll be back! You need me! YOU NEED ME!"

With a self-satisfied cackle, Zabel had found his release. He would have this cute little girl, oh yes, and then she would trouble him no longer. Nobody spurned Lord Raptor.

A flash of light. The strongest man alive, sword buried in the neck of a god. The ruler of the universe, horns buried in the lungs of a champion. The world cries out for such a loss, landscapes crumbling with their grief.

Absolute darkness. The despondent youth, at last, lets herself feel that which she has hidden away so long. Crumbling to her knees in tears that carry over the storm, she cries out in agony for her fallen friend. These feelings, though harsh, are her own. No one bids her to weep this time. She has chosen to feel. Chosen to live.

A second flash. A third warrior has joined the fray. Locking his arms around the breaking neck of the fallen deity, the Prince of Darkness moves in for the kill. Sinking his teeth deep into the dimming flesh, Demitri Maximoff smiles a cruel smile.

Once again, darkness reigns. This time, it seems, for an eternity. Then the void is shattered once more by the flickering of a nova-like burst. Two comets veer off from this tremendous explosion of white-hot energy.

One trails off into darkness and madness. The tragic fate of the vampire hunter.

The other to the sky, which flashes red to accommodate the will of the vampire lord. Makai has opened her arms; she is ready for a new Ruler.

The God of War has passed, His light a fading memory. Left behind are his legacies.

A legacy of hope. A legacy of despair. A legacy of blood.