Castlevania: Lisa's Last Words
Chapter 12
Territorial Dispute
Three nights later, Dracula hung unnoticed in his bat form from a beam above the tavern entrance, his sharp ears listening for the sound of a vampire attacking its latest victim. He had returned to the tavern the night after to press the bartender for details, learning that the killings were messy and showed signs of struggle, though the bodies were not found where they were killed. Not at all the work of a seasoned killer. Dracula deduced the latest round of killings was far too primal to be the work of any but a newborn vampire.
Dracula could feel the vague aura of a vampire nearby, but his senses were lacking their usual sharpness. He was forced to use other methods to track the vampire, as the villagers had thoroughly burned the bodies, leaving no remains of the victims to use magical means to locate it. It was an odd situation, preparing to hunt down another of his kind, but this amateur would only draw attention and make it harder for Dracula and Beth to live near the village safely.
Over the past several weeks, Dracula had tried to convince Beth to leave, but she stubbornly insisted her mother would return. Eventually, he gave up the effort. The night after hearing of the vampire, he left Beth in the cellar of the log cabin, protected by the skeletons he had raised, while he sought out his target.
Dracula felt a pang of guilt over what he was about to do. Helping humans was not something he would have imagined himself doing after Lisa had perished, and he was far too apathetic of humanity to have considered it before he met Lisa. Aside from his distaste for the vampire's sloppiness, he couldn't think ill of them. He himself was a vampire, and he had done far worse. That wasn't what caused the stab of guilt, though. It was the knowledge that Castlevania, his stronghold and refuge, was also a sanctuary for the damned, and protecting it was their price to pay to reside there. Despite his profound aversion towards humanity and his unwavering dedication to their downfall, Dracula had always been driven by a sense of solidarity and protection towards his fellow creatures of darkness.
This was particularly true of beings unable to hide amongst humanity, finding themselves bereft of refuge and forced to exist on the periphery. While certain beings, such as witches, vampires, werewolves, and shapeshifters, could temporarily coexist with humans, a multitude of demonic and supernatural creatures were devoid of this luxury, perpetually vulnerable to persecution and eradication. Even benign beings that held no crime but to different, fell victim to humanity's relentless cruelty, an injustice that had significantly contributed to Dracula's unwavering dedication to his centuries-long crusade against humanity.
However, this vampire was foolish enough to make itself obvious, and for that, it had to perish. It would be struck down by the humans sooner or later regardless, given its recklessness. "Think that demon hunter will do the job?" Dracula's sharp hearing picked up the conversations inside the tavern. Some discussed him, others Beth, and the fear they felt with the vampire among them.
"He can fight, that much was clear the other nigh," A man said. "Barmaid! Another ale!" Another yelled.
"Yeah, he's good. Now the question is if he can handle a bloodsucker." A third man said. "The girl still doesn't feel right."
"True, but the hunter made it clear it was hands off. If we're lucky, the vampire will do us a favor and do her in before the hunter gets to it." The first one said.
Dracula turned his attention away from the tavern. He had heard much the same the night before and would again the next, if his prey kept eluding his senses. He couldn't discern any obvious pattern to the attacks, only that they were in secluded areas, always outside, and late at night past midnight. The tavern was in the middle of the village, making it the best location to listen for signs of the creature. Besides, he had his suspicions about who the culprit might be.
An hour passed before the one he believed to be the vampire walked out of the tavern. Dracula's bat ears easily caught the sound of the barmaid's light footsteps from floorboards to dirt. Opening his eyes, he saw her leading out through the front door. Dracula hadn't been able to judge her shift hours; she seemed to come and go as she pleased. Perhaps she had enthralled the owner.
Spreading his wings, Dracula took to the night sky, trailing the woman with a graceful flutter. His senses, though dulled, had gathered from the tavern patrons' conversations that she was a recent arrival in town. If his hypothesis proved accurate, he would soon witness the vampire selecting another victim. Dracula flew with a languid ease, the woman strolling at a leisurely pace, as if time were of no consequence.
She turned right, entering a narrow alley between two houses, then navigated through several buildings with a deliberate gait. She seemed to be heading towards the outskirts, likely in search of sustenance. Abruptly, she halted before a dilapidated house and approached the door. That was when Dracula realized his error in judgment. The door bore a cross, yet she approached it with nonchalance, unlocking it without any visible distress. She couldn't be the vampire he sought.
What transpired next would have been imperceptible to human eyes, but Dracula's keen vision captured every detail. A figure, similar in size to the barmaid and clad in a cloak, swiftly seized her before she could enter the house. The barmaid's brief scream was abruptly muffled, and the assailant hastened away, all within the span of a second. The pair moved with haste, and Dracula had to focus intently to track them. It was possible that even he could lose the vampire and its victim if he followed directly, so he opted for an alternative strategy. He alighted on the ground, transformed from bat to wolf, sniffed the spot where the barmaid and her attacker had stood, and pursued at a brisk yet cautious pace. Now that he had acquired the scent, the vampire could not hope to evade him.
Dracula pursued the scent with unwavering precision, navigating through the village's labyrinthine streets with ease. The vampire's adeptness at evading human detection was a skill Dracula begrudgingly admired, prompting him to reassess his initial hypotheses. In his lupine form, he found himself in the village's more impoverished quarters, ultimately trailing behind the vampire and its captive. Though distant, Dracula could continue tracking them across the countryside should he need to, guided by the scent.
The scent led him to an old, capped well, long abandoned by the villagers and it had a putrid odor. Dracula verified the scent he had been tracking, relieved to detect no hint of fresh blood, indicating the barmaid was likely still alive. The wooden cap was simple to remove, but Dracula took a moment to sniff and listen for any potential villagers that may see him before returning to his natural form and lifting the cap.
Despite his best efforts, the cap creaked loudly, likely alerting the vampire to his presence. The well was dry, and thinking ahead, Dracula lowered the partially rotted bucket and rope as far as it would go and began to descend. He could have leaped to the bottom with ease, but he chose to conceal his extraordinary abilities, potentially gaining an advantage by appearing mortal.
Author's note: Two chapters this time! I decided to pick up the pace of release for a bit. I hope everybody is enjoying this story and if you do, send me a review! I'm interested to hear what people think.