Fic Title: Darkness Collides

Characters: Alucard x Richter, Solomon x Richter
Rating: R
Warning: angst, heavy m/m scenes (yaoi), violence, mind-play, non-con.
Beta: xvenal

Disclaimers: All characters belong to Konami (except Solomon). This writing is purely fictional and no profit is intended nor obtained for this fanfiction piece.

Summary: Richter is discovered missing just hours before his execution by the town council. Alucard, who seeks to rescue him, discovers a painful truth – Richter is in the hands of a nobleman named Solomon Noir, who bought the disgraced Belmont and has imprisoned him at his majestic estate. Alucard now faces a formidable enemy in his quest to save Richter.

AN notes: Alright if anyone is to blame for Richter bashing in this chapter that would be my muse. XDDD
But no worries though, I tried not to make Richter's err suffering too much or else I'd be chased around by an angry dhampyr. XDD

Chapter Three

Richter groaned. He felt as if he'd been hit by a speeding horse, his headache was terrible. As he woke, he tried to focus his vision; when it had cleared, he suddenly bolted from his bed.

'What the?!'

Richter was astonished to find himself inside a room resplendent with earthly treasures; the antiques and furnishings were all magnificently crafted, from the lamps to the bed on which he'd been lying. The room's ceiling was high, almost like those found in castles or old villas.

'Almost like Castlevania.' Richter shuddered at the thought.

Cautiously, he moved from the bed, feeling his right temple where the rifle had hit him. No blood, but a small bump had formed. Richter sighed. 'Now what kind of trouble am I facing?' He remembered vividly that he'd been about to be executed when a man had intervened.

'Is that a blessing or a curse?' Richter pondered. He had a feeling he would know the answer soon.

As the vampire hunter surveyed the room, one other thought hit him – he had no weapons with him. He had left the Vampire Killer and his other belongings in Maria's care. Should he find himself in a uncomfortable situation, Richter realized he had nothing but his wits and strength to see him through.

Then, the name stuck him again. 'Solomon Noir. What does he want with me?' He'd heard the name many times, usually spoken in harsh whispers. If he hadn't been preoccupied with other issues then, he might have investigated the man's identity. It was rumored that Noir had originally come from England and had settled at a residence on the Wallachian border.

According to lore, strange beings haunted his estate and many people had mysteriously vanished after stepping onto his land. Not only that, people who dared to confront him either died a painful death or disappeared completely. No one had the soul to oppose him as he had strong ties with authority, including Wallachia's royal family.

Richter sighed. The man was cunning, Richter was sure of that, and he didn't believe that what Noir had said about "terminating the darkness in his estates" was his sole reason for halting the execution.

Then, loud thunder roared in the distance. Richter barely jumped, but a voice in his head told him that the sound was an ill omen. He harshly silenced it.

Richter made his way to the door. When he turned the knob, he was surprised to find it locked. Angrily, he banged at the door. 'What the? The fool wants me holed up here?'

Richter decided to destroy it; while he had no weapon, he still had some spells at his disposal. He tried using one to open the door and was astonished when he found that it didn't work. The door remained locked, and not even a scratch marred its surface.

The vampire hunter begun to feel uneasy; whatever Noir wanted from him, he surely didn't want to let him go.

'Isn't this familiar to you?' A sinister voice echoed in Richter's mind.

No...

'This has happened before hasn't it?' The voice taunted him.

Richter froze as the voice touched something within him. Yes, the scene was almost familiar. He was trapped with nowhere to run.

He began to tremble as images of the past, long hidden, now started to emerge.

No...

Visions of him gasping for breath, a lone figure standing in front of him. His clothes were torn and his weapons stripped away. Then, the figure began to reach out for him.

No... Please...

Touching him...

No!

"Mr. Belmont?"

Richter nearly jumped as the visions cleared from his mind. He turned to look the owner of the voice.

A middle-aged man in elegant attire stood in the doorway. His hands at his sides, he bowed politely. "Mr. Noir sends his apologies for not attending to you earlier. He requests your presence in his study in an hour's time. It's the corner room of the left wing."

Richter nodded to the butler. Taking a deep breath to steady his voice, he said, "I'll be there."

"Splendid. Before that a meal will be bought for you here in your room, along with clothes for you to wear. Mr. Noir also advises that you take a bath to refresh yourself after your... ordeal earlier."

Richter raised an eyebrow. Wash? Then again, it had been two days since he last bathed.

Sighing, Richter complied. "I'll see to it. Please give him my thanks."

With an amiable smile, the man left and, not much later, Richter's meal was bought to his room. He eyed the cuisine in front of him suspiciously; the delicacies presented to him were those usually reserved for royalty.

'It almost feels like it's my last meal,' he thought, before angrily banishing his morbid ideas.

Richter didn't feel like eating, he was worried about Maria. He knew how hard she'd tried to get him out of prison; she'd surely panic at his present predicament. He wouldn't be surprised if his uncle and the rest of his clan turned out in droves to rescue him.

'Provided they find me...' He thought warily.

Richter stood and headed to the wash room. There he found the clothes he was to wear, similar to his own attire, but with flawless fabric and seamwork. Tiredly, he removed his soiled clothes and, with care, immersed himself in the bath prepared for him.

He had to admit, it helped to calm his nerves; the water was hot and spiced with fragrant oils and essences. As he washed, he glanced at the large mirror that stood in front of the tub, warily surveying the scars, fresh and fading, that he'd incurred from his battles. With practiced ease, he scrubbed himself clean, washing his brown locks thoroughly.

"A fine specimen indeed," a figure behind the glass muttered. He could clearly see the hunter's nude form as he bathed. He eyed with admiration the fine play of Richter's muscles; his body seemed like those of the old Greek statues, his chest and stomach sculpted from years spent as a vampire hunter. Richter's long brown silky locks fell over his shoulders, accentuating their power. His pouty lips were red due to the heat of the water, his cheeks flushed and his skin a rosy hue.

Richter rose from the tub, unmindful of his audience. He stood in front of the mirror, drying himself. The being behind the mirror grinned as he was offered a full view of the vampire hunter's naked glory.

'Your body and soul is mine, Richter Belmont. Mine to have forever.'

Richter finally donned the clothes that Noir had given him to wear. He couldn't help but notice how tight his trousers were, they seemed to hug his legs, and his shirt, made of a red silk, fell open from his chest to his navel. Even if it was the latest fashion as they said, he still felt a bit uncomfortable.

Much later, the butler appeared again. "Mr. Belmont?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Noir wishes to see you now."

Richter nodded and let the butler lead the way, trying to ignore the strange looks the other was giving him. He shook his hair out with his fingers, it still being a bit wet from his bath, and it cascaded over his shoulders to his back.

Noir poured himself a drink as he quietly waited for his guest. Then, he heard a knock. "Enter," he said.

After a few moments, Richter entered his grand study. Even after spying on his bath, Noir couldn't contain his admiration for the vampire hunter, who now looked much fresher, though his eyes and stance radiated tension.

Richter studied his surroundings; the study was large, with books old and new arranged in expensive, hand-crafted bookcases. A collection of antiques lined one side of the room and paintings dating from the 12th century hung on the walls. The man had truly expensive taste.

Noir motioned Richter to sit, but the latter shook his head; he thought it best to know now what it was Noir really wanted from him.

"How about a drink, then?" Noir offered, unable to take his eyes off the view that Richter's open shirt provided.

"No thank you."

Sighing, but not disappointed, Noir took his place behind his desk. "Before anything else, I hope your accommodation has served you well."

"It's better than what I'm used to." Richter replied, remembering how his detention cell had looked earlier.

Noir laughed. 'Feisty lad.' "Splendid. I think we should get down to business, then."

Richter stared at him directly. "What do you want from me, Noir?"

With that, Noir dropped his proposal. "I want you to be my consort, Richter."

Richter froze, he couldn't believe what he'd heard. "W-What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind, Noir?!"

"I assure you I'm sane. This is all I ask of you, my dearest vampire hunter; I'm offering you a future. Be my consort, and you and I will rule not only my estate and Wallachia – with the Count finally gone and with my connections, we will have all of Europe in our grasp." He said to Richter, not breaking the eye contact with him. Noir could see the effect of his words on the vampire hunter, the lad was trembling with... anger? Disgust?

Richter tried to keep his breathing steady. The man in front of him was no madman, he could sense some malevolent presence in his aura. Try as he might to think otherwise, Richter knew the man was serious and the gleam of Noir's eyes had a familiar effect on him.

Seizing control of himself, Richter uttered, "And if I refuse your offer?"

The grin that Richter saw on Noir's face wasn't comforting... "Then, that's where your troubles start, Richter. As you may have heard already, what I want, I get."

"No. No, I won't accept your offer, Noir." Richter shouted back, his entire frame trembling in anger; the Count was gone for the meantime, but this one had plans to usurp that vacant throne.

"And what will you do? Stop me?" Noir raised an eyebrow as he eyed the vampire hunter. He could smell the rage in Richter's blood, but also there was something else. Fear.

"I need not remind you of who between us is at a disadvantage, Richter." With that, he stood from his desk and moved closer to Richter, his steps deliberate.

Richter neither flinched nor backed away as the two of them faced each other. Noir calmly looked down into the sapphire gaze that glared furiously at him. He could see the taut muscles of Richter's fine neck.

"I see that those clothes fit you very well. You don't have to worry, Richter, compared to your experience at Castlevania I'll make sure your stay here is worthwhile."

As if to taunt Richter more, he raised his hand and, with gentle care, caressed the furious man's flushed cheek. "It's not my style to take left-overs, but, for you, I'll gladly make an exception. No wonder the Count kept you alive that long. Heh, Richter your role with me won't much differ from what you did during your ahh- short stay at Castlevania," he said, his breath whispering against Richter's ear.

Hearing the word 'Castlevania', Richter froze, visions of him during his captivity again flooding back. Him lying on a canopied bed, the large figure of the Count on top of him. He was locked in an embrace, shouting, struggling against the Count's weight. Then, him lying broken and defenseless, surrounded only by the stained white sheets.

As Richter went into a trance, Noir took the opportunity to lower his head and place a tender kiss on Richter's neck. The gesture woke Richter from his stupor.

"NO! Don't touch me!" He savagely pushed the nobleman away.

Taken by surprise by the sheer force of Richter's push, Noir tumbled into the large bookcases behind his desk. The force of the impact shattered the shelves and, not a moment later, countless books rained down on Noir, burying him.

Richter gasped, feeling trapped. Memories that had long been hidden within his mind began to emerge. Seeing Noir tumble, he raced towards the door, but when he grasped the handle he panicked. It was locked.

'No! No this can't be happening!' Richter frantically looked around for a means of escape. Finding nothing, he decided to use a spell on the door, but failed miserably.

"That won't work, my dearest consort."

Richter froze, then slowly turned to look behind him, nearly gasping when he saw Noir in his true form.

"You, you're a..."

"Werewolf. Yes, my dearest. But not just any werewolf, I'm the leader of the pack in this region. I've been in total control of these lands; no one knew or lived to see my true form. You may modestly call me the elder of all of the werewolves here in Wallachia."

"I have to credit Count Vlad. Since almost everyone was preoccupied by his menace, the activities of our pack were scarcely noticed."

"As for you, my dearest, I would have gotten to you earlier had that stupid mage not beaten me to it. But, I think your training at Castlevania will prove useful, so all of the waiting is not really in vain."

Richter couldn't take his eyes on the alpha werewolf in front of him; Noir stood two inches taller than he had in human form. Large talons had sprouted from his fingers, dark fur covered his entire countenance and his eyes were now like glowing red embers. Richter had faced numerous monstrous creatures in his life, but nothing had prepared him for what he now saw. The creature lusted for him, he could see that clearly as the werewolf stood in front of him.

Noir couldn't help but admire the spirited youth in front of him. While others had begged for their lives, Richter stood his ground. But, fear sung in the hunter's form.

"You can't escape, Richter, I own you. As soon you took your first step into my domain, there was no escape. You are mine."

"I would rather die than be touched by you!" Richter shouted and, leaping forward, he attacked the werewolf with a spell.

Noir expertly dodged the blow and countered by suddenly vanishing into thin air. Richter froze as Noir effortlessly dodged his blow, then something forceful hit from behind.

Before Richter could compose himself, Noir reappeared in front of him, slamming him into the wall, knocking the breath from him. Without much effort, he grasped Richter's throat, effectively immobilizing him.

Richter struggled as Noir took hold of him, the giant werewolf pinning him on the wall. He tried to push the other away, but in vain; Noir didn't release him and, as the grip on his throat tightened, Richter started to gasp for air.

Seeing him struggle, Noir just smiled at his prey. "I'm not stupid, my dearest. I won't kill you, there is far worse pain than death," he said with a hint of malice on his voice and loosened his grip just enough for Richter to breathe. Then, with his free hand, he tore Richter's clothing.

"No!" Richter cried as he felt the cold night air on his body. Noir effortlessly tore the silk shirt to shreds, then proceeded to do the same to Richter's trousers.

Seeing the exposed and trembling form of the vampire hunter, made Noir's blood quicken anew. With feigned care, he stroked Richter's hair, his grin not faltering as he saw the other man's flushed features.

Without taking his gaze from his captive, he grasped one of Richter's legs and roughly shoved himself inside his unprepared prey.

Richter screamed.

Ravishing him furiously, Noir took the hunter's face and kissed him, stealing his breath. He was oblivious to Richter's suffering, the other's beautiful face wet with tears, his hair in Noir's death grip.

Richter felt something inside of him tear and blood began to trail down his legs as Noir thrust into him harder. He started to lose consciousness, no longer able to support himself as Noir neared his peak. Just before Richter succumbed to darkness, a face came into view...

Long, silvery hair, moonlight eyes and a seemingly ethereal face... That face... It wasn't his father nor Annette, not even Maria.

"Alucard..." he gasped faintly

Then everything went black.

Noir arranged his clothes as if nothing had happened. Richter's unconscious form lay bleeding at his feet, his torn clothes scattered a sad pile around him. There was no need to worry, though, he could easily replace those.

Noir almost felt victory at his possession of the vampire hunter, but he couldn't accept that Richter had uttered another's name instead of his.

'Alucard...'

He would make sure that Richter submitted to him and no dhampyr would stand in his way. If the Count had failed to defeat him, then he himself would face the halfling.

'Alucard...'

With contempt in his voice, Noir addressed the bleeding man at his feet. "You're mine, Richter Belmont. I own you, body and soul. Alucard may have saved you once, but I'll make sure he dies next time.

He left the room without a glance, unheeding of the silent tears that dampened Richter's unconscious form.

"Alucard... Alucard..."

TBC

Please R & R. Thanks