Let the Symphony Last for Eternity

Written By: Lady Lunar Phoenix

Beta By: Lady Lunar Phoenix

A/N: Welp had to do some cleaning but this should be a bit better.

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Never in his life did he imagine he could be this disappointed both by a hunt and by the clear lack of direction presented in his current situation.

In his hand was a broken off block of what, at a distance, appeared to be wood, a piece that had served some function in the room he was currently in. Simon wanted to say that it 'was' a block of wood for it shared the same weight and feel as a solid piece of tree. Ideally this piece was meant for supporting some wall or maybe part of a rafter. Yet the supposed block of wood was now what he focused on it. For it had the shape and weight of a solid piece of support, while strangely enough the grain appeared smudged. Fake even, as though a master artist had painstakingly recreated the visual presence of the wood only to have someone smudge the delicate lines.

A disconcerting situation to be sure and one he probably would have noticed sooner had he not been fixated on the hunt.

Again.

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Monsters that he could kill to his hearts' content could be described as something of an ardent hobby of his. Though the moment he woke up in the strange location that was supposedly Dracula's Castle had been most peculiar. The moment he realized where he was, he had brandished his whip ready to slay all the undead filth of the night. There was an expectation that he would be attacked... and yet. Standing in the center of a room filled with zombies more intent on cleaning and outright ignoring him.

So when did monsters ignore slayers literally standing in the room ready for a fight? It was all, but, an accepted fact that when Hunters were present monsters were supposed to attack. He started off with the flame lit battle lust song that usually set his blood alight to... And ended up feeling like God had 'literally' licked his fingers and snuffed out the flame of Simon's very passion.

Did these monsters actually look at him like 'he' was crazy? Was he seriously being treated the same by a bunch of monsters as he did by a bunch of farmers?! The primal desire that consumed the monsters to kill was the very bread and butter of the challenge that Simon lived for facing. No human could match his physical strength, there was no challenge that matched the fun of combat. So waking up in the Castle should have meant that he was surrounded by sealed in monsters wanting a fight!

Right?

Not. Want. To. Dust. Or. Sweep!

At least until he was dragged into this strange recreation of a town that was barren of any life. But at least the monsters in this strange place knew the natural order and strove to maintain it. For which Simon had been most grateful. It allowed him to push aside his analysis of his first battle in the Castle against that strange man with the blue coat. The warrior carried Vampire Killer, his aura was that of a Belmont, yet something was clearly influencing the Belmont. A dark aura that encased the warrior before him was one he had never seen before. Making Simon regret, for once in his life, that he had a problem with being patient.

This was a kinsman who somehow had the very same whip that Simon himself carried and there were a great deal of questions that Simon wanted answers about. After all, the blue coated stranger wasn't someone that Simon recognized in the, forced, gatherings he had been subjected to. Nor did he recall the man at his wedding, so where did this stranger fall into the bloodline itself? Thus these monsters provided a good distraction for him. He had hoped that this prison would be like the Castle and allow him to find something to interrogate at the center. After all he had fought monsters in the center of various castles before reaching Dracula before.

Maybe this was just a new version of an old idea, which was fine, creativity was to be respected.

This strange city had invisible walls forcing him down this long corridor, making him feel like he was in a towering hallway with the 'city' nothing more than a mural. All manner of businesses with their wares on display in the windows. The alleys between shops were perfect recreations, merely paintings that tricked Simon into trying to walk down one only to smack into a wall. While posters advertised some type of fair in a language he didn't feel he knew well enough. It looked like his language, but there were words that seemed off. While above his head there were thin ropes that held triangle banners of dull, dirty colors strung high over the road he was walking.

In the air there was this faint sound of festival music with the same echo like effect as in a normal town. A normal town that had more than one long hallway of space to move and not completely enclosed. Making the music even more haunting and strange even though he knew this was a dangerous situation. Music didn't accompany him in battle, the festive sounds floated as though there was no barrier to hold it back.

There was no one he could see as he traveled through out this long passage. Every building was silent, there were no screams of panic despite there being a variety of monsters out on the road. The whole city seemed empty as though everyone evacuated. While he had been given the drop on, roped into this painting by force before his fight with the blue coated Belmont could end properly.

Walking down street towards wherever this path was leading was livened up by the many monsters he was able to kill. What would otherwise be a drab town was brightened up by the blood of the monsters that Simon had slain. Their blood a vivid red slash across across the road, tables, walls an 'art style' which was why Simon wasn't allowed to 'paint' near the house.

In the distance he saw the top of a vividly colored tent that revealed itself more the further as he walked. A cheerful melody began to punctuate the cracks of the Vampire Killer as Simon walked along, killing raggedly dressed zombies and an assortment of monsters along the way. A strange dissidence between cheerful lively music and the growls and cries of the monsters. The way a small child could laugh one minute and die the next never realizing what had taken their young lives.

The bright yellow and pink of the tent was not what Simon expected to arrive at as he walked through this strange 'town'. Yet on the other hand, if there 'were' people created for this world then perhaps the tent would be a solid idea place to start checking. Until Simon actually got to said tent and began investigating.

Which was short for 'Simon slashed'.

On the outside the tent looked perfectly normal, it was a larger piece that what Simon had expected, true. But the absence of all life around it had his attention at the time, no guests or workers, even animals were missing. Not even a single dancing bear. And while Simon would have been willing to believe that all the civilians had been killed by the monsters he had been killing all the way to the tent. There were no signs of bodily harm to any human, or sign of blood that wasn't created by Simon himself. The whole of the area looked well kept as though everyone just got up and left all at once.

If it had been anyone other than a Vampire Hunter, by now the panic would have been real. The concern regarding the absence of all life in this seeming town would have had people pin their hopes here. The looming tent doing nothing to help comfort their mounting fear for there was no sound coming from inside the tent. Hoping that perhaps everyone had gone to this tent and that the Hunter would find others, even if those others spoke a different language.

Maybe another Vampire Hunter might feel concerned about potential civilians or even ponder if anyone was here that belonged here. What if this place was just a prison for others and that someone else might have been captured like they were? Certainly Simon could hear the voices of his father and grandfather pointing these issues out.

Which was why, outside of actual hunting, Simon had learned to tune out his family and just focus on the hunt. Thus he had entered the tent and finally decided who ever managed to get a drop on him was clearly a mad man. And this was a coming from a 'Battle Crazy' Vampire Hunter who had gone about reassembling Dracula just to summon the vampire back so he could kill him.

All to end a curse.

From outside the tent flaps the interior looked perfectly normal with another wall of tent fabric to block the interior of the tent, but plastered with posters about various events and people. Yet the moment Simon stepped inside the tent he was suddenly standing on the wall of a building. On the left of him was endless sky, on the right was a city street, all of it perfectly normal save the standing on the side of a building part. He turned and checked behind him, and saw the very same grounds he saw before he entered the tent.

'Can vampires get drunk on blood?' Simon had found himself pondering as he turned back around and looked at the next wall he would have to jump to. The path directly before him looked to be endless, but he decided to check the 'wall' of this room. Despite it appearing to be a street in some city with its cobblestone design. Noting as he did so that nothing on his person seemed to react as though he was standing on something other than solid ground. From his hair, to the whip and the clothes he wore, nothing dropped as though he somehow was standing on a wall.

However what his hand touched felt like street, the stone felt like stone, dirt felt like dirt, everything appeared normal save the fact that he was standing on a wall. Even a random attempt to 'set things right' by jumping at the wall/road did nothing to fix this strange setting. Yet before he could ponder things further the sounds of howling caught his ear, alerting him to more prey he could hunt down.

And not to say he had an addiction to hunting...

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Because he wasn't addicted to hunting, addiction meant he could never stop himself and he could stop any time he wanted to. But he had fought Legion for what felt like 'hours'. Not because Legion was difficult, because he was pretty simple, but he 'did' fill the landscape with mindless monsters that Simon could fight. Mindlessly slaying until he realized he was bored. Legion was one who spewed only the mindless masses to slay, they lumbered forward like Zombies.

The environment was simultaneously drab and dangerous, with the floors walls and ceiling all seemingly made of thick wood. The room wasn't a box however; there was no side walls leaving only a vast emptiness on either side much like the city below. The weight of the increasing horde had also caused a vibration to form at the base of the wooden structure. As though it would snap if the horde wasn't dealt with as soon as possible.

Yet at least the Zombies tried to do harm, this mindless horde had been more intent on just dragging him under and that had gotten boring. Or rather it had gotten so routine that he had found himself back on the original questions. Because Legion lacked a mouth, or any form of true sentience it appeared that Simon had wasted his time traveling here.

No one had shown up to taunt him or explain what had been going on and mindless minions meant that he was left with a chunk of his mind free to ask questions. Such as the state of Vampire Killer, which was a unique one of a kind weapon. So how had that stranger not only 'have' the Whip, but also able to get it to obey him? It meant the person had to have been accepted, save Simon was still holding the Whip. How could two separate people have the same weapon in 'hand', while at the same time that same weapon be in two places at once?

It made no sense to a warrior such as Simon himself, and he could only figure that the explanation would be found through the Belnades clan. Magic was 'their' forte after all, and Simon preferred to strictly focus on fighting. Downside being that he wasn't in any situation where he could even meet up with one. The castle had looked weird compared with 'both' times he had traveled through it, now with the monsters acting more like civilians cleaning their home.

The foreboding dread, the overwhelming feeling of power that only the Castle of Dracula could properly express. All that was missing when Simon had first opened his eyes in the place. All those feelings he associated with the Castle had been so absent he had assumed he had fallen drunk somewhere and brought to some high nobles' estate. Then he saw the zombies, skeletons, bats and all the other monsters that pretty much proved he was in the Castle of some Monster Lord. It had been puzzling for sure.

And he didn't like puzzles. Ducks. Graveyards... Trading 'opportunities' time wasters all of it.

Thus now he finally was given a reason to kill Legion, since there was no way to leave the large room without dropping to his death. While outside the strange sideways cage, when Simon caught a glance, showed the rest of the city like when he entered the tent. Only in reverse, because when he arrived in the tent the 'ground' was on his right, now it was on his 'left'. With the sun looming down as though this room was designed to box in the sun.

And that left him here, standing in the chamber where Legion had died, surrounded by wooden walls. Forced to contemplate the mistake he made by rushing his way through the 'city' and arriving 'here'. Probably should have spent the time observing the painting and figuring out a way to get out, instead of deciding that killing monsters was more important than escaping.

Now this strange new prison had Simon's attention, strange enough to make him actually stop slaying and 'pay attention' to his surroundings. Noting how everything had this strange smear quality to it as though he was trapping in a painting. Which he probably would have noticed in the beginning when he arrived if he hadn't been distracted by the monsters.

If he had just bothered to care about his surroundings he would have realized that this wasn't just a town empty of people driven out by monsters. He would have realized that all of this was a prison meant for him, and not just the tent as a prison. Simon gave a disgruntled sigh as he moved to the side of the room that showed the ground below. Many of the mindless had fallen when the floor got over crowded, but Simon couldn't see any of them. The number of fallen monsters would ensure that the roof tops of those buildings and roads below should have been liberally coated in the remains of the mindless horde.

'Should have' being the optimal word pair because he could see neither splatted bodies or still moving ones. In fact was that even the same city he arrived in?

Simon seriously hated puzzles.

The monsters were subject to gravity once they were no longer physically moored to the 'ground' they were unleashed on. Save Simon wasn't apparently restricted in the same way, having 'tested' it out his trip through this tent. As he had been jumping from platform to platform and never falling sideways in either direction. He needed to get back to the painting and figure out how to get back out. Even if it meant being stuck in Dracula's strangely domesticated domicile which he wasn't looking forward to.

With thoughts that perhaps he could get a good brawl going with that one person than it wouldn't be a total waste. Simon began climbing up out of the bottom of the chamber he fought Legion in. Using his whip to swing and climb up to the various platforms and higher undisturbed by any monsters. The rooms splattered with blood from various monsters, dried by the time it took before Simon returned this way.

Rooms that were completely inverted, or side ways, really made him want to kill whoever thought that 'this' was 'art'. Well if he was lucky, killing all the monsters would mean the painting was now unshielded and he could leave.

Hopefully.