Castlevania: Lisa's Last Words
Chapter 11: Villagers
Dracula, who did not require slumber, often spent the daytime sitting in the chair he had crafted in the cellar, lost in contemplation. He turned to the skeleton in the cellar, his sole "companion," and remarked, "Your daughter is an extraordinary woman." Beth still clung to the belief that her mother would return, so Dracula had instructed the skeletons to bring her remains to the cellar.
Lisa's words continued to resonate in his mind: 'Theirs is already a hard lot.' He recalled his own declaration: 'God is not a being one can battle directly. Only the evil He causes can be fought.' Dracula envied Beth's innocence, concluding, 'Mr. Dracula is good. So Mr. Dracula must fight God!' He chuckled at the absurdity of it all, a wry smile spreading across his face.
A thought struck him, and he laughed at the notion: he, the embodiment of humanity's darkness, fight evil? Dracula was evil incarnate, summoned back by humanity's darkness. He realized this after Lisa's passing and his subsequent returns from the grave.
"How could I have been so blind?" Dracula lamented, his laughter turning into bitter chuckling at his own foolishness. "This is what He wanted. It's what He always wanted! Like a fool, I leapt at it like the loyal dog I am!" He struggled to contain his fury, recalling how he had fought in God's name as a man, only to lose Elisabeta. In response, he became a creature of the night to defy God.
A humorless grin spread across Dracula's face. "But merely making me suffer was not what He wanted. No, that was only the beginning of His manipulations. God wanted me to become the scourge of humanity." Dracula said to himself. In his mind, he envisioned a chessboard with pawns moving. Elisabeta and he were mere pawns, not the King and Queen.
Then, another pawn was placed: Lisa. "That's why we met that night so long ago. Returning the love of my life only to snatch her away again, at the hands of humans this time. You were just there to stoke the fires of my anger. To make me into what He desired of me." The pawn was struck down, and another was placed: Bethany.
Horrified, Dracula shook off the image. "No more. I will not fall for God's schemes any longer!" He realized this might be another scheme, but it didn't matter. "Lisa... this is what she would have wanted." Dracula awaited sunset, left the cellar, and roused Beth.
"Hey, Mr. Dracula..." she said groggily.
"Come, I have something new in mind for tonight." The vampire spoke, and Beth followed, shaking off her sleepiness.
Dracula took Beth's hand, affixed an ax to his side, and strode towards the village, a place he had avoided for weeks, except for acquiring tools. With a mere thought, he applied his glamor and headed to the town gates with Beth in tow, just after the last rays of the sun. The village was still bustling with activity.
"Hoy! You there!" The village guard called out, halting their progress. "Why are you with the girl? She's not welcome here!" Dracula had anticipated this reaction, which was why he chose to enter through the gates rather than slipping in unnoticed.
He turned to face the guard, an older man who had likely never experienced the brutality of real battle, and scrutinized him. Dracula could effortlessly strike him down, but that wasn't the purpose of this visit. "I think that's about to change." He produced a few coins and placed them on a nearby fence post.
"Ah, I see. Good sir, proceed." The guard waved them onward.
Dracula had initially intended to avoid the village for the foreseeable future, but if he was going to "fight God" as Beth put it, he needed to be among humanity, and he wasn't going to let Beth out of his sight. He needed to uncover the evils God had placed in the world to torment humanity, even if it made his skin crawl to be around humans.
As nonchalantly as possible, "Mr. Matt" (as Dracula insisted Beth call him in the village) sauntered into the local tavern. Before they reached it, the building was loud and rowdy, but as soon as they stepped inside, the patrons fell silent. They stared at the black-haired stranger holding the hand of the familiar beggar girl. They quickly began whispering to each other, but even the quietest couldn't keep their words from the Count's ears.
"What is that fool doing with that cursed child?"
"Rumor is her mother was a witch, you know. No doubt he's been enchanted."
"Aye. We have enough trouble these days with the vampire among us."
Vampire? It took all Dracula's self-control not to flinch. It had been weeks since he drained a woman dry. Surely, they wouldn't still be speaking of that after all this time? 'Matt' showed no sign of having heard and moved to sit at an unoccupied table near the door. Beth clutched Dracula's hand tightly, silent. "Fear not, child, you are safe." Dracula attempted to reassure her.
The whispers continued, but Dracula paid them little mind for now. "What can I get you?" The barmaid asked, approaching the table.
"Cheapest mug you have," Dracula replied.
"And for the miss?" She asked sweetly.
"That wench is a newcomer. She knows nothing of that child," someone remarked, but Dracula didn't bother to identify the speaker.
"Um... can I get some fish maybe?" Beth asked apprehensively, her voice barely audible.
"Of course, dear. We have trout on the grill right now." The barmaid replied, displaying a warmth towards the girl.
As the barmaid departed to fulfill the order, Dracula sighed and refocused on the patrons' whispers. "14 dead from the scourge so far. I bet that brat has something to do with it." Someone muttered.
"Nay, she's been around much longer than that. A bloodsucker must have moved in recently." Another patron noted. "We've burned the bodies so none would rise, but more are found each daybreak." 14? It couldn't simply be about one woman; another of his kind must be nearby.
Dracula directed all his senses outward to detect if the intruder upon his territory was in the tavern, but he was interrupted. "Girl, we told you what would happen if you showed your face here again." A patron growled.
Dracula's attention turned to the rude patron, and he found the table surrounded by a group of five men, all sober by the smell of it. Five. 'They will serve well,' Dracula decided, his eyes narrowing.
"I... I remember..." Beth was shaking and somehow started grasping Dracula's hand even harder than before, her fear palpable.
"Excuse me, good sirs," Dracula said as politely as he could. "I believe the lady does not wish you to be in her presence. For your own sake, it would be best if you gentlemen leave and return to your drinks." The disguised vampire's voice was laced with an unsubtle threat.
"Did you hear that, Micah? I think the thrall just threatened us," one of them sneered.
"Hmm... he's outnumbered, so either he's extremely brave or extremely stupid," Micah noted, eyeing Dracula with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. Dracula simply glared at Micah, saying nothing further. "I'd say stupid. I wonder how the little beggar witch ensnared this one?" Micah asked mockingly.
"It doesn't matter. Now..." Micah gestured, and one of the men grabbed Beth by the arm, lifting her up. Beth shrieked as she was pulled out of Dracula's grasp. Dracula seized the opportunity, grabbing the table with both hands. "I made you a promise, girl. Time to split your sku..." The man was cut off as Dracula effortlessly lifted the table and threw it at the two men on the other side, pinning them down.
Dracula swiftly drew the ax at his waist, but held back. Even without his supernatural strength, these fools were no match for the skills he had honed as a mortal. He began by thrusting the axe handle into the stomach of a burly man who thought he could attack Dracula while he was distracted. Before the man could recover, Dracula swung the handle up, striking his chin. The man slumped to the floor, out of the fight.
Dracula didn't pause to admire his handiwork. He deftly dodged to the right as another man swung a chair at him. With his left fist, Dracula delivered a punch to the man's face, forcing him to stagger back. The top end of his ax handle swung into the man's forehead with a swift motion, knocking him out.
The first two men managed to throw off the heavy table. They pulled out knives from their belts and advanced on Dracula. He waited for the first to strike, effortlessly avoided the clumsy attack, and grabbed the man's wrist. With a swift twist, Dracula forced the man to drop the knife and let him go. Dracula caught the knife with his hand as it fell, his reflexes unparalleled. The man staggered back, clutching his now broken wrist.
The other man advanced, but before he could strike, Dracula kicked him in the chest and forced him against a support beam. Dracula threw the knife with uncanny accuracy, the small blade impacting the wood beam right next to the man's head, drawing blood. Dracula simply looked the man in the eye, and that was all it took. The fool had the sense to retreat into the tavern, fleeing through the back.
During the fight, Micah stood there with a stunned expression, holding Beth. Her look of awe at Dracula's fighting changed to a shriek of terror as Micah grabbed her by the neck. Dracula walked slowly towards the idiot, his eyes boring into the man. "Drop it and get lost, or I'll-"
Micah couldn't even finish his threat. In one smooth and swift movement, Dracula swung his ax at the man's arm holding Beth. "AAARRRGGGGG!" Micah dropped Beth on reflex, clutching his severely bleeding arm. Had Dracula struck a centimeter to the left, he would have severed Micah's hand.
"You should have a doctor see to that," Dracula said, returning the ax to his belt. He swept up Beth and held her in his left arm before turning away and approaching the bartender. "Apologies for the trouble." Dracula said, dropping a few coins on the bar. "I would still like that mug, please, sir." Dracula asked nonchalantly. "You son of a..." Micah rushed at him, but before he could finish, Dracula punched him in the face without even looking back, breaking Micah's nose, and he fell to the ground.
Beth gasped as this happened and the man hit the floor. She hugged Dracula tightly and looked around and then at the bartender, who quickly filled the disguised vampire's mug and handed it to him. "Are you gentlemen finished?" Dracula asked. Dracula took a swig of his mug and turned around to look at the man writhing at his feet, then around to the others, unconscious or fled. "Are there any others who would like to bother this young lady?" His glare swept the room, daring anyone to challenge him further. Dracula nodded. "I hope we can both live here in peace."
"Who are you anyway?" The bartender was brave enough to speak up, his curiosity getting the better of him. Dracula turned, downed the rest of his drink, and dropped a couple more coins down to pay for it.
"Call me Mathias. I am a demon hunter," Dracula said politely, offering a plausible explanation for his impressive fighting skills, his voice low and mysterious. "This is my protégé, Bethany. She prefers Beth." He had no need to antagonize anyone further, having already made his point, and his tone conveyed a sense of courtesy and restraint.
The bartender looked thoughtful, his mind working overtime, his eyes narrowing in consideration. "I see. Well, you both are welcome here, sir, as long as you cause no trouble." He was building up to something, so Dracula simply ordered another drink while he waited. Alcohol was something other than blood that Dracula could consume, and although he couldn't get drunk, he could at least taste the concoction. He drank it down and paid for the drink, deciding he had spent enough time there. He turned and stepped over the now-unconscious Micah, his gaze dispassionate.
Dracula walked at a normal pace to the door of the tavern, expecting the bartender's call, his ears attuned to the subtlest sound. "Wait!" The bartender called.
"Yes, sir?" Dracula turned, having anticipated the request, his voice even and calm.
"Please, good sir, rid us of the scourge that plagues us!" The bartender begged. Dracula walked back over to the bar and took a seat again, with Beth sitting beside him, her eyes wide with wonder.
"I overheard something about that before I was interrupted. 14 dead?" Dracula asked, having heard the updated number, his brow furrowed in concern.
"16 as of last night, sir. One young woman was found stone-cold a few weeks ago. Nothing for some weeks after, then more started to fall, one after another every night. Men as well as women, the beast doesn't discriminate." The bartender shivered, his voice laced with fear.
Dracula sighed and shook his head, disgusted at the amateurish work, his expression disdainful. Whoever it was, it was likely a young vampire, lacking the finesse and subtlety of a seasoned predator. Any experienced vampire would have moved on after a week at most. "All are dead? The bodies burned?" He asked, his tone probing.
"Of course, sir. One of those things is enough," the bartender said, his voice firm, his certainty evident.
"I will search for it another night," Dracula said, his voice low and mysterious, his eyes glinting with a hint of menace. "I will not say when, for you never know if it might be listening." He nodded gravely, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for an unseen presence, his gaze piercing.
"Take the usual precautions, garlic and crosses on the doors and windows. Keep the fireplaces burning, for they can find their way in through the flames as well." Dracula himself had ways to circumvent such measures, but he didn't reveal that to the bartender, his secrets safe behind a mask of civility.
"We already have, Sir Mathias," the bartender replied, his voice laced with a hint of desperation, his eyes pleading. "We shall redouble our efforts, but please, do not take long." The weight of the village's fate hung heavy in the air, and Dracula knew he had to act swiftly to uncover the truth behind the mysterious deaths.