RWBY and Castlevania aren't my property. Yadee yadee yada.

The humans were the first to die.

The party had entered the dark room, ever alert. Swords had slid out of their sheathes, shields brandished and bows strung.

But it didn't matter, as they soon found out.

Their first warning was a shriek and a spurt of blood. They barely had time to turn around as his body collapsed in a shredded mess, a fountain of blood.

Then the others fell one by one, assailed by the swooping shadows. The air glittered as silver flew in every direction, the weapons of the men slashing and waving in the darkness.

But it only did so much. One by one his cohorts got pulled into the shadows, the only things they left were pools of crimson.

He turned around frantically, reaching for outstretched hands that would be immediately pulled out of his reach.

He then soon found himself alone, surrounded by the ruined bodies of his comrades. The sickly smell of blood filled the room.

He then reached to his hip, but soon found out that his sword was not there. Something then cracked from the darkness.

A twinkle in the dark then flashed out and he suddenly felt a sharp pain course through his chest. He looked down, and to his horror he saw Crissaegrim buried on his chest. It sprouted in blue flames, swirling and spreading onto him.

He roared in pain, the sword smoldering in his chest. He tried to pull the blade out, but it only elicited even more screams from him as the smoke of scorched flesh swirled through the air.

He then froze as he heard a cackle ring from the darkness. He turned upwards in horror to see a hand surface from the darkness.

The hand reached from the darkness and ripped the sword from his chest his chest, the blood pouring out in a torrent. He shuddered and gasped as he fell to his knees.

He groaned, his hands uselessly trying to ebb the flow. He then fingers curl around his chin, softly lifting his head

It was a familiar face, not one he could forget.

It was his own, snarling at him with bared fangs. But his face slowly started to twist and to contort, shifting into another familiar face.

Dracula snarled back at him in glee, gripping Trevor's neck and lifting him up.

"You can't run from what you are Alucard," Dracula grinned, "you'll learn that soon enough."

With that Trevor died again, bleeding out on the cold marble floor.

Then it all went dark.

Trevor jolted awake, his hands tearing out Crissaegrim from its sheath. But he then realised that he was alone in the room, the only thing besides him was his shaky breaths and the darkness.

He took a moment, panting as the sweat dripped down his clammy face. His hands then slowly reached upwards towards the necklace, his shivering hand gripping the silver pendant. Trevor took a moment to steady his breath. He slowly stepped out of the bed, laying the sword on the bed. With that he crept towards the window.

The shattered moon above him glowed. The silver rays of the moonlight sifted down through the dark night, like an artist's strokes on a black canvas. The wind softly sighed. The fluttering leaves swept through the air. He then reached down his shirt, bringing the pendant towards his eyes.

The silver shone underneath the moonlight, the small red ruby in the middle of the simple cross. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"You can't run from what you are, you'll learn that soon enough."

He then remembered those sad green eyes.

He gritted his teeth, his hand squeezing the pendant. "No," he growled, "I am not you."

Trevor stepped out of the doorway, narrowing his eyes against the bright sunshine of a summer morning. The pack was slung over his shoulder, Crissaegrim hanging from his hip.

He turned around towards Cornelius who was standing underneath the doorway, the smoking pipe resting from his hand. A small frown formed on his face, "You should at least rest a spell longer lad. Your wounds haven't healed completely."

"I greatly appreciate your offer sir, but I'm afraid I must leave." Trevor said as he shook his head. "As I have stated, I have certain urgent affairs to attend. It would do me more harm if I stayed" Cornelius harrumphed as he crossed his arms. "Bah, young folk these days." he spat a while walked towards Trevor. "No patience at all, always on a rush."

So," the old man asked, "Where are you planning to go?" Trevor blinked, a small frown forming on his brow. Where was he planning to go?

He knew that he had been awoken for a reason. He had only confided a select few people on how to release him from his slumber. But that had been centuries ago, as much as it saddened Trevor, most of them wouldn't have lived that long. All his friends, all of his contacts were nothing but dust now. He stood there, rubbing his chin as he wondered. Then an idea formed in his mind. There might be at least one person who could have lasted all of those years.

Cornelius then sighed, placing his weathered hand on Trevor's shoulder as his face softened into a small smile. He reached into his pocket, taking out a small folded piece of paper and handing it to Trevor. Trevor unfolded it, revealing a map with scrawled directions towards a city.

"It's directions for Vale, the nearest city from there." Cornelius said. "You'll find a place named From Dust Till Dawn, a Dust shop that my friend owns. He'll help you if you say that I sent you. Don't know where you're going, but Vale is as good as any place to start."

Trevor looked up. A rare smile appeared on his face as he faced the kind doctor. "Thank you sir, you have been incredibly kind to me. I'm afraid I don't have the means to pay you ba-" Cornelius then interrupted him with an exasperated sigh, waving his hand in front of his face. "I'm a doctor, helping people is what I do you buffoon." He then sighed as he adjusted his cap again. "Just do me a favor and try to not get lost."

Trevor gave the old man a nod. Then in a silent exchange they both turned around, Cornelius heading back into the house as Trevor turned towards the road. He checked if everything was in order in his pack. He then checked his gear, fiddling with his gauntlets and adjusting Crissaegrim. With that set, he began to walk down the gravel path.

Wonder if he still drinks that much coffee.

It had been a long way, twisting paths of dirt and gravel intercrossing themselves. Trevor kept thanking Cornelius as he peered into the map, walking down the grassy plains. It would have taken quite a while for him to be able to find the city. Then slowly but surely the grass was replaced by stone paths. Before he knew it Trevor found himself going over a hill.

He then saw Vale.

He first rubbed his eyes, thinking that he was imagining things. He blinked once again, looking at the great stone spires stabbing into the skies. He saw giant winged contraptions flying across the sky lazily, as if fish in an ocean. Bright lights emanated from the city, twinkling like stars in the growing dusk. How long had he been sleeping? Decades, centuries, eons?

Trevor shook himself out of his of the trance. If he was going to find the man he was searching for, he could probably find his whereabouts in the city. He took a deep breath, channeling the reservoir of magic inside of him. He felt himself get enveloped with a cold sensation, his body morphing painlessly. Then, a small bat fluttered towards the city of Vale.

Trevor fluttered into the alleyway, perching himself onto the brick floor. The body of the bat was suddenly encased in pitch black shadows, but then began to grow into a humanoid shape. And as the shadows quickly disappeared from the shape as Trevor emerged. He quickly exited the alleyway and briskly began to walk towards his destination. His brief flight into the city had made it easy for him to find the shop that Cornelius had told him about. After a couple twists and turns he found himself in front of the shop.

The shop's name was written in faded red font, the small stains on the store's front showing its age. The lightbulbs hanging on the front lit up the place, casting shadows in the night. The shop's windows had a myriad of Dust appliances, crystals, books, tools, cartridges, and scales. Trevor checked the map once again, making sure he had the right place. With that done, he walked over and pushed the door open.

The small bell on the door tinkled as Trevor walked in. He then noticed a couple of things.

He noticed a quaint little shop, wooden walls and floor. On the walls were a set of tubes containing different colors of powdered Dust, glittering in a rainbow with their unique colors. Several other shelves with appliances were scattered around the the shop. He also noticed a man in a pitch black suit flying across the room. Alucard merely leaned to the side as the man crashed through the door.

And then he finally noticed the hooded girl with the scythe. And she was flying straight at him.

Finally, the interesting part begins. If you have any good feedback lads, please, do make it known in the review section.