Landing gracefully in a mass of bats, Alucard strode confidently toward the house, its seemingly innocent look betrayed by the delicious sent of fresh blood. Inside, he found pools of blood and the occasional recognizable body part.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" Alucard brandished his Jackal, giving it a few, tender, loving caresses before loading the custom thirteen-millimeter armor-piercing explosive rounds into its respective thirty-nine centimeter long, sixteen kilogram, six round magazine, and sliding it into its rightful place. He sighed, stroking it gently. How he'd missed the Jackal and the Casull so, inferior or not. This night, though, he would settle with using only the Jackal. He doubted he'd need to use anything else besides a round or two, anyway. Nothing but small fry.
Euphoric giggling caught his attention. Making his way past the kitchen, he walked by a blood encrusted, white bag marked "Sumson's Drugstore," paying no attention to the blooming business's merchandise, of whom had expanded to America a mere two decades ago...
There, on the floor of the staircase, was a single, mad vampire, cradling the head of the late Mrs. Dreizehn. Suddenly, he looked up, face distorted by drying blood. Dropping the head, he fell to his knees, clearly in worship. Alucard blinked, taken a back.
Well, this was new. "O Great one, I hath waited here faithfully, to tell thee of thee's to-be freedom!" The crazed vampire's forehead touched the floor, his hands outstretched before him.
"From whence doth thou cometh from?" Alucard narrowed his eyes. To-be freedom?
"I fear to ye, my Liege, for my Master wishes thee to return to thy masters," he spat the word like it was poison. "dwelling, from whence ye may begin down the road of glory we hath prepared for thee." Road of glory? To-be freedom? Alucard felt a twang of realization hit him. His limp hand went erect, aiming at the worshipping vampire's cranium.
"What have you done?" He could feel anger build up in him. What had they done to his little Master? Where had these fools taken her, and what did they believe they would accomplish by killing her?
The undead king could see the gears in the brainwashed pawn's mind begin to turn, straining and stressing furiously. "You… you cannot be Him. No, you mustn't be," his head snapped up, hands retracting. "Imposter! You dare to come forth, in His image?"
Alucard's jaw tightened, he would get no more from this crazed minion. "Ye hath done thy servitude well. Go now, and meet the devil." He pulled the Jackal's trigger once, the blessed mercury tipped bullet delving into his skull, turning him to ash. He turned from the pile of ash as the Macedonium silver casing landed noisily in the otherwise silent house.
He fazed through the house wall, launching off into the sky, his shape nothing more than a winged outline of his essence.
~~~Oh Fudge Muffins~~~
Sooo…. Did anyone get the Van Winkle reference?
…No? Eh, too bad. As for Yonna's surname, I would have gone with seven, instead of thirteen, but I couldn't remember how to spell it…
Well, anyway, The plot's really rollin' now!
Comments an' stuff encouraged! (short, I know but it's a double update!)