Castle Dracula was bound to Chaos. A bizarre creation of its namesake's passion for knowledge, mastery of the dark arts, and hatred of God. The fortress also had the ability to change its position on the Earth's surface through magic engines deep within. As such, the few people who actually went out looking for the castle by their own volition rarely found it, leading many to believe that the place only exists in the human imagination.

This notion is also compounded with the fact that Castle Dracula crumbles upon the destruction of its master's body. The castle took its place at the Borgo Pass (called the Tihuta Pass as of this entry) in 1792 and remained on that spot for well over two hundred years after Dracula's battle with Richter Belmont. After that, it only rose three times: in 1797, 1896, and 1999. Roma left several accounts of the area over the years and actually saw the castle in its ruined state. Nevertheless, the locals remain fearful of that place, giving it the moniker of "the Land of Phantoms".

Johann Cavallius, student of Genya Arikado.

July 25, 2001.


A scarlet hexagram burned by the side of the road in the German countryside, late one afternoon; a tall, bald, skinny figure in black emerged from it.

"Walpurgisnacht!" someone shouted from the other side of the hill behind the stranger. He reached the crest in a blur and found a local cabby in an argument with the guest.

"You are afraid, Johann—you are afraid." Harker sounded annoyed, but still tried to be polite. "Go home," he told him, "I shall return alone, the walk will do me good." Grabbing his wooden cane from inside the carriage, the Brit pointed toward the city. "Go home, Johann—Walpurgisnacht doesn't concern Englishmen."

Yes, the man said to himself, you are indeed a product of your world, Mr. Harker. He didn't sense a shred of concern from the young man. The pawn seemed to find a perverse sense of humor in what the cabby genuinely believed in. He even watched the fearful driver turn around in a mocking sort of way, leaning on his do not always recognize the dangers that beasts can sense at certain times. The driver's horses panicked when they sensed him, just as they probably did at that crossroads not too far away. Harker somehow found humor in this, too. Now you trod the track toward your own destruction, he observed, as the Englishman made his way down a side road. I will have to watch you more closely for the time being.

He raised his head. The storm was coming and Harker was moving toward it. The stranger raced toward Munich on foot, well ahead of the startled buggy. The human eye would have only registered a fleeting blur as he passed, but in a matter of seconds, the bald man stood before the hotel Harker was staying at. He went inside a moment later, at the speed of the normal Münchners he was trying to blend in with.

The stranger approached the desk and rang the bell. After a few seconds, a husky man with a cleanshaven face approached. "Herr Helmut Delbruck, I presume?" he asked. The man confirmed he was he, prompting the visitor to flash a telegram before him.

Delbruck read it aloud:

"Bistritz. Be careful of my guest—his safety is most precious to me. Should aught happen to him, or if he be missed, spare nothing to find him and ensure his safety. He is English and therefore adventurous. There are often dangers from snow and wolves and night. Lose not a moment if you suspect harm to him. I answer your zeal with my fortune. –Dracula."

Delbruck had never heard of the name.

"I was given specific instructions to deliver the message here. There is an Englishman staying here is there not?"

"J-Ja, as a matter of fact," the manager said. "A Herr Harker."

"Yes, that is the name," said the man, already knowing the answer. "Then my job is accomplished. It is imperative that no harm comes to him. Especially so close to Vandorf… on Walpurgisnacht."

"You know of the dead village?"

"I am quite well-read, my good man," said the visitor. "My name is Zead, and I am a servant of Count Dracula."


It would have taken several humans to carry a coffin like the one Alucard had, but he had no trouble transporting it on his own shoulder. Being a dhampir, the offspring of a human and a vampire, he had the strengths of the latter portion of his make-up, but few of the weaknesses.

There was nothing in Denis Marsh. A road had been made centuries ago which led into the swamp, but became a dead end. Whether this was an error in planning the road or just an infrastructure project abandoned through a lack of funding, Alucard couldn't say. He'd been asleep during the period this trail to nowhere was blazed, but now he was going to give this neglected bog a small purpose.

"Wait!" a young woman's voice cried out from behind. Alucard looked over his shoulder to see a horse galloping toward him and a familiar face riding it.

"I had hoped that I would never see you again, Maria."

Maria Renard dismounted and approached the light-haired man. "You don't have to do this."

Alucard turned away from her and looked into the slough's many trees. "Twice," he said. "Twice have I been forced to fight my own father. After assisting Trevor, I elected to sleep until the breaking of the world as penance for my actions. Then Richter fell, and the fates arranged for me to awake. He is now free of father's grip, and you played no small part in saving him."

The dhampir began to walk deeper into the marsh with the long box. After a moment, Maria started to follow him.

"Do not come after me," said Alucard. "I have slain father a second time. Once more I consign myself to sleep till the Judgment. Within this coffin and at the bottom of this swamp."

"Please don't," she pleaded.

"I've already told you that my bloodline is cursed, Maria. I cannot live in this world."

"It doesn't matter to me that you're Dracula's son," the huntress said in a voice that was as firm as it was plaintiff. "You are so much more than that. I…" she hesitated for a moment, but eventually forced her words out. "I don't want you to just go away forever."

The half-vampire looked back over his shoulder at the pure human. There wasn't a shred of humor in her expression.

Everything went quiet, save for the cry of the odd bird among the branches above.

Alucard finally broke the silence. "Maria," he said, "do you know what happened to my mother? People accused her of being a witch and burned her for it. My father, in turn, made attempt after attempt to exterminate humanity as a way of avenging her. My mother's last request was for me not to hate mankind, though mankind killed her. I cannot absolve those men of their deeds, but she still wished that I do no harm to humanity. When I defeated father, I passed onto him her dying plea. As the mouth of Hell separated the two of us, for once, he showed remorse for his actions. He will return eventually, in spite of this. He's already crossed that bridge and cannot go back."

"Alucard…"

He set down the coffin and removed the lid. "Mankind wouldn't accept mother and will not accept me. In the eyes of this world, I am but a monster. An abomination which violates the laws of Heaven and Earth."

"You saved Richter," she told him. "If you were the soulless, wicked creature you believe society sees you as, you wouldn't have risked entering the castle in the first place."

"Still, what boon am I to this world?"

Maria placed a soft hand upon his shoulder. "You're a boon to me."

The dhampir gave the huntress a quizzical look. Did she love him? Nonsense! "You and I cannot be," he said, remorsefully. "The love between mother and father ended in tragedy. It could easily end the same way for us. Should you not suffer a destiny similar to that of mother's, the slow rot of time will part us. Humans like you are blessed with such a short life, able to grow old and die. Through my vampiric side, I've outlived Trevor, Grant, and Sypha and it would be the same with you and Richter. The five of you were so lucky to be born purely human."

"If it were to mean being with you, I would be willing to cast death aside," said the huntress, pulling back her collar to reveal the skin on her throat. "Turn me. Make me immortally young, a queen of the night forever."

"You humans speak of death with such anger," he said. "You consider death to be cruelty, but is crueler not to die. Men cannot imagine a life where years pass like mere hours. I am neither inclined nor able to make you a vampire."

"If I can't change your mind, Alucard, will you at least meet my sister Annette? She wants to express her thanks for what you did for Richter."

Alucard couldn't help but smile warmly at her request. He could at the very least afford her that. "You are an incredible woman, Maria Renard," he said. "You remind me so much of my mother—intelligent, kind, compassionate. I will delay my sleep and go with you."

She threw her arms around him, sobbing softly.

Alucard simply stroked her gold locks and patted her shoulder.


The ambiance of the swamp gave way to the distant rumbling of an engine and the trees to the ceiling of a cabin aboard a French liner steaming out of Naples. Alucard remained on top of the bed, staring blankly into space.

The exchange with Maria happened a hundred years ago, but for Alucard it was vivid as if it had only recently transpired. He'd agreed to go with her to meet Annette Belmont and give a final farewell to Richter. Unfortunately, neither Alucard, Maria, nor even Richter could have foreseen what was coming, and it would result in the dhampir becoming a monitor during a century of watchful peace.

During this time, he'd become a bit of a scholar of the ongoing conflict with his sire. While he'd taken part in the 1476 episode, Alucard learned more about other Belmonts between Trevor and Richter who took up the great weapon against Dracula. The Count's hatred of humankind was clear, but he was also rational and calculating. This was evident in his becoming a vampire in the first place. He deceived Christopher into thinking he'd slain him in 1576, but had already set forward a contingency plan of corrupting the blood of the hunter's then-unborn son Soleil; this plot went into effect fifteen years later. He tried something similar with Richter and had more success. Having been opened to the dark forces, the hunter could no longer touch his family's legendary whip without its holy power burning him.

In this way, his father got the last laugh. No Vampire Killer, no Belmonts. What would prevent the Dark Lord from trying to use his influence to coax susceptible people into opening a window allowing for an early return? Richter's grandfather, Juste, was forced to fight Dracula some fifty years before the whip came to him. At some point in the 1820's there had been another premature revival involving a Church-backed body meant to guard and eventually destroy his relics. Its leader fell to the Count's miasma, but thankfully, one member of the organ was able to turn his own dark power against him.

Alucard had learned that story from her, the last living survivor of that group decades ago. She was still alive, living near Segovia, but was well over ninety now: extremely old for a human, but not for someone with vampiric lineage. She'd played her part in the drama, no more could be asked of her now. She did, however, give him one bit of information: the burial place of the man who ultimately created the Vampire Killer. With this knowledge, he was able to recover the codices buried with him.

The manuscripts were the last piece the dhampir needed for his puzzle. The holy whip could not be replaced or unmade, but he could at least create a substitute or companion for it.

He gazed out the porthole—darkness. It has well after midnight by his cabin's clock. Apart from the crew, he was probably the only person onboard who was still awake.

Atop the dresser, Rinaldo's grimoires, still bound.

No time like the present.


Gilded candelabras illuminated a small chamber otherwise wrapped in darkness. Upon an ornate throne sat an old man with skin as white as the underbelly of a slug. His ears were pointed, and almost twice the size of a normal person's. Despite his withered appearance, long, snowy hair flowed his head and a long mustache draped his upper lip. His hand, with its long, yellow, talon-like nails clutched a stylus and drafted a message on a piece of parchment.

My friend,

Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.

After this, author signed it.

"My lord."

The ancient figure stood. His sunken red eyes pierced the darkness like an airborne arrow.

A hooded figure brandishing a scythe emerged from the floor as if it were made of air. The apparition had the face of a skinless skull, and he knelt before the throne.

"I trust you have been monitoring our guest," said the old man.

"Sharply," said the demon. Despite having a skeletal form, his mandible never moved as he spoke, but his words were as clear as a bell. "He was as assessed. His own dismissive tendencies allowed him to venture toward the old plague village near Munich."

"Did he disturb Dolingen?"

"He entered the dead house she'd been sealed inside of to take cover from a storm," explained the cloaked servant. "I took swift action before she could do any harm to the young Englishman."

"The guest is more crucial to that end than she," the wizened man remarked. She was but a pawn sacrificed to ensure the desired outcome. "What of the Belmont of this generation?"

"I am unable to find Leon's direct descendant, my master, and the whereabouts of his whip are unknown."

"Then Shaft has been vindicated. Nevertheless some other foolish organ will attempt to substitute for them."

"Indeed," said the spirit. "Lord Alucard is still working against you. He passed through the Strait of Messina on April 28."

"Continue as you were, Death," the ancient man said, as he sealed his envelope with wax from one of the adjacent candles. "As per my explicit instructions, he will stop in Bistritz before the stage of the operation. Deliver this message to the Golden Krone."

"As you command, my lord." The demon sank down into the floor, as easily as he'd appeared.

As for the being's decrepit master, he descended the dais and peered out into the night. Yet again, you ally with those who killed your mother…


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

+ Much of this chapter was influenced by the deleted first chapter of the Stoker novel, later published as Dracula's Guest. You can read said short story for yourself through Gutenberg.
+ Vandorf is the name of the German town featured in the 1964 Hammer movie The Gorgon, starring Peter Cushing.
+ Denis Marsh, as I'm certain you know, is the infamous dead end toward the end of Castlevania II: Simon's Quest.