The wind howled all around Falgor as he tried to make his way west of the town. He figured that the wind would die down within an hour, and from then he would set up a temporary camp and figure out where to go from there. However, something kept prying his thoughts over and over, interrupting him. Falgor wondered what that message had meant, all it had done was confuse and disturb him.

The game begins, Falgor Kaisu. the message played in his head again.

Now he was becoming furious. Whoever had kidnapped his fiancé surely did not have the spine to challenge him in person, and he loathed cowards. He remembered back in his unit, that he made sure none of them turned tail, and there were plenty of deserters to re-educate, and now, there was one more he had to finish off.

Falgor drew his coat closer to his body, shielding himself from the cold air rushing around him. It didn't feel natural, and it made him wonder why the locals believed those stories of Dracula and the Belmont family. The stories made no sense to him, because it was absolute nonsense. How on earth could any those events happen? And, the thought of a single man challenging a hoarde of supernatural beasts with just a leather whip was pure fiction. Still, it just made him wonder why they believed the stories so strongly. Now he supposed this was a very superstitious part of Romania, or a crazy one. Whichever it was, he readily threw out the idea that any of the stories and myths were true.

Something snapped him out of his musing and analyzing, a light in the distance. It wasn't too bright, but he figured it was from a small oil lamp. Falgor thought it might have been one of the men from the caravan, going out ahead to find a path or something, they aways did things like that to be safe. He continued forward, the lamp's light getting bigger, and brighter. The sound of leaves crunching under his step was beginning to make him feel uneasy, as well as the howling wind that subsided. Then, he noticed that the usual nighttime noises were not being made, as if something silenced them from the world. Things were getting more frightening for Falgor, his mind in great distress, though he tried to be calm as he approached a man with a tattered brown cloak, holding the oil lamp. However, Falgor noticed that the man smelled very odd, yet the scent was familiar.

"Excuse me, sir? Are you with the caravan?" Falgor asked.

The cloaked man didn't respond, he merely sat there, looking about, but not in his direction. Falgor drew closer, and in suspicion, readied his hand to draw his sword from behind him.

"Sir? Are you with the caravan?" he asked once more.

Falgor reached his hand forward, and grabbed the man's shoulder, and suddenly, a hand grabbed his. It didn't feel quite right, like a normal person's hands. They felt dreadfully cold, and they felt rotten. The man turned his head, and the hood fell back, revealing his face, making Falgor want to vomit right then and there. His face was gray, the skin was rotting, one of eyes was pure white, some of the skin was missing, and with all this, Falgor realized where he had found this scent before. It was the stench of death.

Suddenly, the creature dropped the lamp and tried to grab Falgor in an attempt to attack him somehow, but he managed to set his knee to his chest and his foot to the creature's chest, and kicked it away from him. Falgor quickly unsheathed his blade, holding the leather wrapped handle with both hands as he saw the creature stumble back to its feet. Then, he noticed more groans from around him, and turned his head to find more of this gray-skinned humans dragging their feet toward him.

"What in the name of... What are these foul things!" he screamed as he drew his blade out from behind him. The creatures drew forth, making Falgor feel extremely fearful. Falgor wanted to believe this was all just a nightmare, that he was sleeping, tossing and turning in his bed. However, one of them was crafty enough, brain-dead as they are, to try and sneak up from behind him and managed to bring its hand down upon his back, forcefully. Stunned from the blow, he fell forward and landed on his knee,the breath knocked out of him, and he went into a half-concious state.

He felt nothing but fear and confusion, two very dangerous combinations, as the creatures crept closer and closer toward him. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and his breathing became shallow. It was then he realized he'd probably die to this cannabilistic peoples, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. Falgor stood up, gaining his second wind and drew his five-foot greatsword, staggering his legs to control the weight. The first to get to him was the first to recieve a powerful cut to the head, slicing a near-perfect forty-five degree angle from the creature's jaw. Normally, his reaction would be to attack the next one closest to him, but this time it was different. In pure shock, his eyes widened as the one he attacked still lumbered on, despite a nice chunk of its face being missing. Whatever this devilry was, he knew he had no chance against it.

With that, he quickly turned tail and started running in whatever direction those things weren't in. After what felt like an hour of running for his life, hearing nothing but the his panting and the uncomfortable silence of the forest. Cold, numb, and scared out of his wits, he sank down against a tree, his heart still hammering its way out of his chest.

"What were those devils?" he mumbled to himself. "They couldn't have been human, it's impossible for humans to live through a mortal blow such as that. But it's also rubbish that they could have been the walking dead. Am I delerlious? Was it something in the food or drink from that rundown pub? Probably, they probably did this just to try and make me afraid of those stupid stories!"

Falgor rested for a good ten minutes before getting back up, holding his sword gingerly, then shouted, "You hear me! I'm not buying your jokes! You hear me! I am not falling for it, I'm not going to believe your wild stories! Y-"

A rustling noise nearby cut him off, and he took his sword into his hands, waiting. However, he realized he shouldnt've; what appeared from the bushes was impossible to him, a walking skeleton brandishing an iron spear. He couldn't believe what he saw and heard, the bones were pure white, as if someone had meticulously scraped off the rot, and heard the clatter of bones with each of the skeleton's steps. Whimpering silently, he slowly backed away, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head, and his face completely white. Just then, more clattering was heard from behind the skeleton, and more appeared from the ground or from the bushes, then it was time for his second retreat. Falgor turned to run, breaking into an all out dash to who knows where, then after a while, he stopped once more, breathing even heavier than before. Now he knew he wasn't hallucinating or dreaming anymore, these were real. Those rotting corpses he saw moving about trying to attack him, they were the walking dead, and the animated skeletons were acts of the fabled magick of necromancy. What frightened him the most was that what he had so strongly believed was nothing but pure fantasy was, in fact, reality. Finally, he had stopped in the cover of bushes and shrubs, permitting himself to have a breath.

However, his heart leapt violently when a voice shocked him from his resting place.

"Excuse me sir, thou'rt the captain Falgor Kaisu?" the voice asked.

He looked up and saw a sight that didn't seem welcoming, but he welcomed it anyway. It was a thin man wearing a butler's uniform, his skin pale and his hair whiter than his own. The old butler had a kind, gentle smile that steadied Falgor's nerves, and he stood back up on his feet, putting his sword away.

"Aye, I am Falgor, but I am no captain, not anymore. Tell me, what do you wish of me, and how do you know my name?"

"Oh, my master has heard of your feats, and wishes to meet with you personally."

"Wait," Falgor interrupted, "how did your master know I was coming?"

The old butler smiled, it looked warm, but it felt chilly. "Oh, that's his secret. I never question his orders. Come, his castle is this way."

So Falgor did follow the butler, but again, he was on his guard. With such happenings going on, he couldn't afford to be caught unprepared a third time. Also, he was confused. He didn't know there was a castle around these parts, and if there was, who would want to have a castle in this cursed land? He then gulped, and thought that possibly it was the vampire everyone feared. Once again, he pushed the thought from his mind, because he didn't want fear to overwhelm him. The wind blew, but he didn't feel it, and to him, this was an ominous sign.

"How much longer to the castle?" he asked.

"Not much longer," the butler said stiffly. "And remember, my master wishes your precense, so don't do anything to present yourself as rude."

"I'll keep that in mind-"

In awe, his jaw would have dropped had he not wanted to remain polite and not like some simpleton as he saw the marvelous castle. It sat perfectly in front of the rising moon, one of the towers splitting it in half, it seemed. The butler merely coughed, and lead the way inside. Falgor continued to marvel about this wonderous place, it was on top of a hill, a lake behind it, the master of this beautiful piece of architecture must have had a very good eye to have it here.

"Like it?"

Falgor continued to look around as he said, "It's wonderful. Granted, I haven't seen many castles in my time, but this must be the best of them all."

Creakily, the drawbridge suddenly started going up. He hadn't realized that he even crossed it, but it bugged him now. It went up on its own.

"Don't worry, don't mind anything but where I lead you. Keep following me," the butler ordered.

This old man was starting to annoy him, but he still remained stoic to his words. Then he remembered a question he had wanted to ask him.

"Who is your master anyway?" Falgor asked curiously.

"Why, you should know him. Hell, you should fear him."

"Really?"

"Yes, after all, he is the Lord Dracula."

The ex-captain stopped dead in his tracks.