Castlevania: HeXeD Generation

Chapter 6: October 29th, 1999

2007-09-08T12:53:00.000-07:00

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Chapter 6: October 29th, 1999

The sun showed brightly in the autumn sky. Despite this it warmed very little in the lands that encompassed Lincoln, Nebraska. With the city wide curfew still in effect, very few people were out this afternoon. There were a few here and there but for the most part, the streets held a pail shadow of what the cities true populace could handle in street traffic. For some the killings in the city had put a damper on any festive activities or ideas. It was bad enough that Halloween was cancelled but most other activities, family friendly and adult only, not even the basic fittings for the holiday were not followed. No colorful decorations of the fall season, no jack-o-lanters. Not even a single party store was trying to sell a costume for fear it might give the wrong idea that someone should go out into the night.
Elizabeth was just fine with all of it. Being one of the faith, she would’ve preferred to walk among the trick-or-treating crowd and pray for them than actually enjoy the dark night’s activities. She did find the less than active streets concerning, more so with herself being out just hours before the curfew was to take effect. But leave it to herself to be talked into going for a walk in the city with her official chaperon. She did hope to go shopping during her stay in Lincoln. Her bible quizzing group had all sorts of plans to go and explore the city at large. But thanks to the killings in the area, most of them we canceled by the bible quizzing administrators. She found that odd given how they should’ve just canceled the bible quiz semifinals altogether. But it wasn’t her place to question those in authority over her. So in a sense of rebellion she decided to go out and explore what she could, making sure not to stray too far from her hotel.
but of course she couldn’t go out alone...
“Enjoying yourself yet Elizabeth.” spoke her chaperon. She knew that he was the reason why she was talked into going. Be it for a cheep date or just to have her alone for awhile, she wasn’t sure. But despite this, she did trust him. They had grown close in their years in high school. After high school didn’t change that. Elizabeth looked up at her chaperon and called him by name. “If walking out in the cold is considered enjoyment Mathieu then yes.” she was wearing an outfit that really wasn’t meant for the seasons. But she decided to wear such after the frightful ordeal in her room some time ago. She knew that the pink Sunday dress made her look more childlike than a woman but given the circumstances she didn’t mind. She was dressed for a bible quiz, not for a night on the town. Her pink dress had all the makings of the old fashioned feel. From the puffy shoulders, slimness of the waist, to the mid shin reach of the hem. Even the dress shoes and the white socks enhanced the outfit. To finish the look, she added a big, pink bow to her waist length hair. The bow not only looked good but also helped to keep her hair tied down and straight so it didn’t fully get out of control.
With the chill she wished she brought a jacket. Matheiu did offer his hoody on two occasions as they walked down the street but she declined out of respect. She looked at her friend as they walked side by side down the lone streets of Lincoln. If her outfit was childish by comparisons, his was the exact opposite. It was a far cry from the slacks and button shirt he use to wear in high school. The look did make him handsome but the new look he sported, Multipocket jeans, oversize black t-shirt, made him more the look of a street tough than a believer of the faith. The only color to his monochrome outfit being the silver cross dangling around his neck via chain.
Matheiu breathed out hot air into the cold afternoon. “It is a bit cold but we’ll be back inside before nightfall.” He said this as he continued to look around, as if keeping watch for someone to come out of the shadows and try to jump them. Elizabeth thought he played the part of bodyguard a bit too seriously, but it did make her feel better knowing she wasn’t alone. She was curious why he insisted on wearing his knife strapped to his thigh. She knew the blade was legal length but she didn’t feel it necessary to show such out in public. But then again, she was from the city and never needed such things whereas Mathiau came from the country, where such tools were probably needed for any outdoorsman task.
“I’m grateful that you’d come along with me on my outing, but I don’t understand why you want to take me to a coffee shop,” Elizabeth said as they continued their walk downtown. “I don’t even drink coffee.”
Mathieu shrugged and continued to keep his pace with the little woman. “I have to confess, I didn’t want to ask you out for coffee. Since I heard you were going to Lincoln, I figured I could catch a ride with your group and see a friend while you battle it out in the semifinals.”
“And be a chauffer in the process?”
“Did I seem that transparent to you Elizabeth?”
“That’s not what I meant Mathieu. I’m grateful that you came along. God knows that we need all the prayer and protection we can get right now.”
“Your worried about the killings around here aren’t you.”
“And your not?
Mathieu looked down at his close friend and gave a sinister grin. “they’ll think twice before they try to take me down.” Elizabeth gave out a giggle that she was sure sounded too childish even for her. Mathieu only grinned in response as they continued to their destination. He hoped that his friend was their waiting for him. In truth he was scared of what could be out there that could kill so many people in a notorious way. He heard from friends in the police science program he was in describe some of the findings they learned about the killings. It sounded something out of some Resident Evil videogame. He knew that his bravado wouldn’t save his friend or himself if they happen to meet face to face with such killers. All the more reason why he wanted himself and his friend back in their hotel before night came. After what he experience in the forest not long ago made him want to keep ever vigil since. Being outside after dark didn’t seem like a good idea even to him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Stephen sat at the deepest table in the coffee shop as he waited for his friend to arrive. After the event from the night before, he switched to drinking bottled water when he happened into this coffee shop. Unless Moses himself came inside with his cane he felt sure he was safe from drinking any blood this time around. He glanced at the table he sat down at nights ago, recalling the image he saw with the blood seeping down the table and onto the floor. It still rattled him even in broad daylight. It was one of the reasons why he wanted to talk to his old friend from back home. When he heard that Mathieu was coming to town he wanted to make sure he could not only hang out with a good friend from the past, but also see if he can have a one on one talk with him about what he experienced. Stephan knew that Matheiu was into such researches of the supernatural and spiritual. And since he was a friend he has trusted since childhood, he wanted to see if his friend could figure out what was going on.
Stephen almost went out as far as to invite an girl he knew back in his college days. She too was into such spiritualisms and ideas. He wasn’t sure why he thought to call and ask her to meet him at the coffee shop but figured it would be nice for Mathieu to meet some others that had the same interests. Not like he was trying to set his friend up on a date or something...
He made sure to wear the usual attire that Matheiu would be able to easily recognize him in. He knew that time was against them today with the curfew and all. He had more time off than usual thanks to it. He was glad to tell his friend to hurry as soon as he could. Mathieu was all the more happy to come and see his old friend. He even hinted that he too would be bringing a surprise, something that’ll make sure he could spot him in a crowd....
Stephen clutched the package he had resting on his lap and gently played with the cord that kept it closed. He didn’t know why he brought it along. If the police caught him with this he was sure to get arrested. Technically it wasn’t illegal but it would be very hard to explain to them. He kept telling himself that by the off chance, Mathieu would be able to understand it and perhaps even figure out who would send such to him. He couldn’t help but think that the package had a significant purpose to what was going on in his life. It was as if it was part of some mysterious puzzle that he was soon to being putting together....
Stephen heard the door open and he looked up breaking his mind from the reverie he was having. Despite the dark clothing, he knew that the slicked back haired young man was his dark friend. He noticed that he had changed a bit over the years the last they met. He was no longer some gangly, geeky teenager but a man much like himself. He was tall as much as Stephen was short and bulky. It never surprised him that despite their looks and differences, they were the closes of friends. What did surprise him was the little asian woman that was with him. He almost mistook her for a girl given the pink outfit she was wearing. But the eyes gave her away to being that of a woman. She even had the new shininess of that like an innocent. It made him wonder how she could’ve fallen in the company of his friend who he remembered to be held swing by dark moods from time to time.
Stephen set the package down on the table and got up to greet his friend. A smile crept into his face as he approached and felt for the first time he wasn’t fully alone with what he was bout to face. “Hello old friend.” He said as he took Mathieu into a brotherly embrace. “It’s good to see you too Stephen,” Mathieu said. “It’s been a long time, I figured you’d turn into one of those boring city dwellers I’ve so heard about.” Mathieu clapped his friend on the back like he use to back home. Stephen could see that very little changed with his friend. Despite the years and changing of attitudes, it was still the friend he knew back home.
“As much as the city holds it’s charm, I’m still one for the wide open spaces.” Stephen said as he returned Mathieu’s gesture. It wasn’t till he noticed that the little asian woman was off to the side awaiting to be introduced. “Speaking of charm,” said Stephen, “I see you are still as anti-social as every. You didn’t even introduce me to your cute friend here.” As if on cue, the little woman stepped up and gave a cute wave. “Where are my manners indeed,” said Mathieu. “This is my friend Elizabeth. she’s the reason why I am able to see you today.” Stephen did he best not to give the woman the once over. He knew how it felt to be considered small and unimportant.
“it’s a pleasure to meet you Elizabeth, any friend of Mathieus is a friend of mine.” he said with a nod. “it’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” responded Elizabeth. “This is a first for me, meeting a friend of Mathiue’s outside of the school environment I’ve known him in.”
Mathieu looked a bit uneasy when she said such, giving Stephen the idea that perhaps he’s never shared his personal life with others in the high school he had attended. Stephen cut thru the odd quiet by offering to get them something to drink given the cold. Elizabeth was nice enough to ask for a tea while Mathiue chose the poison of his choice. Once the drinks were obtained, they all sat down at the table where Stephen left his package. Elizabeth noticed that the coffee shop was practically deserted but felt more at ease as she began to envelope herself in the company of friends. It felt odd meeting a friend of Mathieu’s that was completely different to himself. Yet she was curious as to why he never spoke of him back in high school. She figured he had his reasons and was glad to be among those of the faith. She noticed that Stephen himself wore a cross much like her own. Just the sight of it made her feel a bit more at ease.
The three exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. Getting to know each other a bit better and of course filling each other in on their lives in general. Stephen joked on how he was surprised that is friend couldn’t find a girl and Mathieu responded back with joking references about his dating exploits. For the most part, Elizabeth was happy to stand by and watch two good friends getting back together. She did notice that Stephen kept fiddling with a package that was in front of him. She thought it rude to inquire about it. As for Mathieu, he either say it but thought best not to speak of it or had ignored it altogether.
Their chatting stopped when they hear another person enter the coffee shop. Elizabeth was in mid drink of her tea when she took a look at the new encounter. She was a bit taken aback to see this newcomer into the store, for in fact she looked very familiar. And from the looks of her two friends, they remembered her as well.
“Kandace, so glad you could come.” said Stephen as he got up to greet her. Elizabeth took the moment to try to recall this new stranger. She had a paleness to her that did stand out along with her ample frame. She was almost a bit intimidated by the size of her bust compared to her own. Her hair was similar color to her own but it had a waviness that she could never have without the help of a stylist. The outfit she wore wasn’t that different. Black jeans with black jogging shoes. But what did jump out different was the purple top she was wearing. It had frilly lace along the short sleeves that only reached to her shoulders. And the V cut to the neck showed more cleavage than was necessary. It was interesting to see that she wasn’t the only one not dressed for the cold. Also interesting was the package that she herself was holding under her arm. It wasn’t till Elizabeth hear Kandace’s voice did she finally rememeber where she saw her from: She attended the same high school she attended, and was in fact in the same grade that Mathieu was in.
“Anything to see you Stephen. I’m always interested in what your up to since you dropped out of college.” Kandace said as she faced Stephen. She looked to the table and noticed the people that were seated with her friend. She sort of recognized the asian girl at the table but the dark skinned man.....
“Mathieu? Is that you?” Kandace asked as her eyed him once more. The outfit and the hair was different, but the eyes were just as she remembered. “I didn’t know you were friends with Stephen.”
The person in question did a double take with his two friends and seemed just as shocked as his friend. “Do you two know each other?” Stephen asked. There was a moment of silence as the four of them soaked in the situation. If anyone had been noticing the four or had heard a bit of the conversation, they’d have a feeling of closer with the four of them in the room. It had the moment like specific individuals had finally made themselves known from the shadows and despite their first meeting, they were about to embark on an adventure that somehow would twist and turn their destinies into paths that none of them could’ve ever foreseen.
The sound of a car horn outside the shop broke everyone from the reverie and brought them back to the present. “Yes old friend.” Mathieu said. “You might find this hard to believe but I went to high school with her.” the next sentence he directed to Kandace. “Hello my dear. You look rather.....busty, this afternoon.” the moment he said it Mathieu began to regret it. Kandace herself seemed to be taken aback from his statement but recovered quickly. “You know how to turn a phrase.” She answered.
Mathieu said nothing.
Stephen had a confused look on his face as well but quickly regained his composure. “Now this is a first. I had hoped to introduce you to my old friend from back home. But it seems that you to know each other as it is.” and perhaps more he thought to himself. After seeing the response Mathieu’s asian friend gave upon not hearing about him, Stephan thought best to keep quiet till he knew exactly where everyone stood.
Some more unnerving silence followed till Elizabeth decided to break it. “Hello Kandace, I’m not sure you remember me but I’m Elizabeth. We went to the same school together.” she got up and gave a slight bow in introduction to Kandace.
Kandace herself did recognize the asian girl. She honestly almost started to laugh when see her wearing such a childish outfit. She did recall how cute she looked back then, wearing outfits that fit properly with the school dress code. It seemed she still followed that code despite Mathieu’s outfitting. She nodded to the little woman as well. “I do recall you, it’s nice to see a face from the past.” But from Kandace’s tone, it sounded like it wasn’t.
Elizabeth either didn’t catch the sarcasm or didn’t care. Either way she smiled that cute smile Kandace remembered not liking back in I the school days. “Well,” said Stephen, “since we are all here, why not we get comfortable and talk about how we all come to know one another.” With that, Kandace loosened up a bit and joined Mathieu and Elizabeth at their table. Stephen made sure everyone was seated before he sat himself. A feeling of oddness floated over the table. Not a feeling of foreboding like the feeling Stephen felt a few nights ago a few tables back. It was more akin to not knowing what to say with the new company at hand. Mathieu obviously was too aback by seeing a friend from the past. He wasn’t sure why he was like that but didn’t think it was because of pure surprise. Kandace herself was usually withdrawn but she seemed more so given the company she was with. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Mathieu but he had the feeling that the two of them had some unfinished business.
The only one that appeared to be unphased by the situation was Elizabeth, who kept smiling and sipping her tea as if she was in the league of friends. Finally, Stephen decided to break the silence again and get things rolling. During the next few minutes, the four talked about how they all came to meet and how their lives were in general. Once that was out of the way, everyone seemed interested in hearing what everyone was up to and how their lives were going. Kandace was somewhat taken aback to hear that her college was actually hosting the bible quiz semifinals while Elizabeth was more than happy to explain the trip in how Mathieu and herself arrived in Lincoln. Stephen talked about his so called life as a lone pizza boy as Matheiu said little and appeared to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity around them.
When Kandace asked him about such, Mathieu returned the gesture by asking what was in the package she brought with her. Elizabeth herself then asked about Stephen’s package as well. Again, things got quiet among the group. All that could be heard was the sound of traffic and the standard bric-a-brac of any store. The only difference was that there was no one else in the store but them and the owner at the counter. Stephan let out his breath and touched the package once more. “I had hoped to speak of this package with Kandace in private first before I tell everyone about it...”
he looked around to the group of friends that had gather before him. He knew things were getting strange, especially when he told Kandace about his package. He was shocked himself to hear that she too had received a strange package in the mail. Both of them never really explained what was inside them and had hoped to do a share swap to see if any of them could understand what they had received.
But the knowledge that everyone knew each other changed matters.
When Mathieu began to rise from his seat, Stephen waved him down. “No, don’t leave. Given the circumstances, I think it would be better if you saw what’s inside this package as well.” he looked to Elizabeth as well figuring she was thinking something differently about what the package could contain. “You can stay too Elizabeth. You are friend of my friend so you are friend as well.” Elizabeth seemed dubious so Stephen added, “And no, it’s not drugs.” He wasn’t sure why he said that but he had a feeing that the asian woman might be thinking that he was the type of crowd.
Elizabeth almost objected but nodded. “this might all seem odd to you all,” Stephen started. “but let me show you what I have here, then I’ll tell you my story.” and with that he untied the string holding the box lid down and lifted. Everyone peered inside so that the mystery could be revealed. What everyone saw didn’t even come close to solving any mystery but added more to it. None of them could’ve guessed what they were to find inside. Thoughts ran thru their eyes as they tried to figure out why something like this was in Stephen’s possession.
There was a leather whip inside the box.

Chapter 5: Cannibal Killers!

2007-07-04T10:40:00.000-07:00

Chapter 4: Elizabeth

2006-09-17T20:11:00.000-07:00

Chapter 4: Elizabeth

On any given night, one can see many of the generation Xers doing their usual activities that would make many of the later generations either turn their nose in disgust or ignore them completely. But not all generation Xers are cut from the same clothe. Which is where we find one in particular doing what most probably wouldn’t do given the chance: staying at home reading the bible. Such is the case with this cute little girl.
Being of only 20 years of age yet looking like that of child does little to diminish her quiet demeanor. To many on lookers she hardly seems to fit the row of a young woman. More so is the evident of her room decor. Everything in pastel pinks and other girly colors that would long ago abandon the tastes of most modern youths.
Again hardly is the case with this little woman. She has long put aside the conquests of appearance and gives into the temptations of the mental and spiritual. What are looks when it’s what inside that count? Granted she still cuts a cute figure in her purple dress with white turtleneck. Given the brand of a bookworm in college, she still maintains a physic that would merit any gym class major. She is an able runner with small legs that can kick when need to. The rest of her fits well with the outlooks being that of a bookworm. The only exception being she had abandoned her glass of high school and taken on the concept of corrective contacts. With her glasses gone, her face has a more open look and allows more of her Asian side to show, her eyes being the natural look of shaped almonds. Along with that appearance it gives her the look of less than a child then that of a mature woman, height not withstanding. Even when calling into exception the length of her hair. Any longer and it could be mistaken for a cloak, jet black and luscious. Being just shy of 5 ft she at times feels exactly want she looks: a little woman. Still a woman regardless, given the ampleness in the chest region. Given the proper clothing she could deck herself out to be quite the looker. But instead of picking and choose outfits that best suit her figure, she decides to wear outfits that just feel comfortable. Besides, there’s a modesty factor at play. Even when she goes out in swimsuit, she does her best not to be around men for fear of them looking at her exposed chest....
and besides, thinks this little woman. Looks are only skin deep when the soul is what's more important. Unlike most of her generation, she is a devoted Christian. More so than others by some standards. Given a choice she would rather watch or do something that would benefit God’s work than the norm for most of her age. Sure she’ll enjoy a “nerdy” activity like watch some sci-fi show and do the natural girl activities like shopping. But never at the stores that show clothing that cover less than what they mean to. Despite her wearing a dress this night of nights, she wears it like the rest of them. Long and to the ankle. “Skin is sin” was her motto. She could not bear the thought that even herself could lead a man down the path of damnation by just the sight of her smooth, shapely legs....
Again, she was what they call, hardcore Christian. Down to the core. Very few understood her devotion to God and all his greatness. More also understood why she didn’t do normal things outside of the church and just chill. What they didn’t understand was that this was her idea of chilling. She finds joy in helping younger kids learn the ways of God and teaching them about his righteousness. She sings with all her heart in Sunday services. And studies the bible with a passion one would think is reserved for those that read trashy romance novels. In the end very few understood her and her godly ways. Even when she was friends back in the Christian school she once attended. Sure they could commune with the word but they don’t fully divulge themselves into his teachings. If only they devoted themselves she would always think they could become more than what they realize. The thrill of being able to not only know the Lord’s plan but also have a speaking communion with him made her heart race, her soul to sing out and openly praise God for the gifts he has given her.
She gave herself completely to God so that she may do his works and be used in whatever task he asked of her. Some might see this as religious zealotry or blind devotion. But unlike other religions that demand total obedience or indeed blind devotion to a bygone faith. Her God has given her the choice of free will; to do as she saw fit for not just herself but for her walk with God. Everyone has there own way of praising God; this little woman has her way not unlike others. She sometimes wonders if her strong faith is because not only of her youth and upbringing but also because of her ancestral past of being connected to Buddha. Though she’s never worshipped Buddha before, she knows that her ancestors once did. Being of Laos/Chinese descent didn’t make her an immediate convert to Buddhism. Like she said, she was a free human being. And she was grateful to be born, and all the more grateful to be able to choose between the two. IN her heart and mind’s eye: God was in control.
As always, even in college her beliefs were very different from those around here. If not more so, she found that her faith and deep devotion was very much in the minority. She met people that really need the Lord to work thru them and others that didn’t even care about him. So many religions and so many unbelievers almost made her weep during her first week. But she merely put that sadness to God so that he can work thru her if only to be a shining beacon of what God can accomplish in one’s life. She had already shown the way to three students this very semester.
So unlike most her age and gender, she found herself sitting at her pink desk, reading her King James Bible. On quiet nights like these she enjoyed the atmosphere the most. All was quiet and she felt that the words would literally leap out at her as she read them. But for some reason the words were not speaking to her tonight. She read the words like she usually did but she got nothing out of them. It was like she was reading something over and over again till it sounded like gibberish. The little woman thought she was just exhausted given how her college studies kept her busy. But even still she always made time to read her bible before she went to bed and said her prayers. How odd it was for her to not feel sleep yet be tired of the bible!
She looked around the moon to see if anything was amiss. The only thing she noticed out of the ordinary was the how the moon shined thru her basement window. She didn’t realize that the moon was to be full and shiny tonight of al nights. Again she tried to read her bible but the words just wouldn’t take any meaning. The Little woman thought that perhaps some fresh air would do her some good. So with that in mind, she made her way to her window and opened the slide door. Once the window was opened, a ferocious wind blew thru the opening, practically knocking her onto her pink bed and making her school work papers spin out of control. She spent a good while gathering up her homework once the wind died down. She found it very odd that it should happen to blow just when she opened her window. After all the news reports said it was suppose to be a quiet night with clear skies. But that moon...
Once she got her work back in order she went back to her table to try to read her bible once more. To her surprise she found that the pages in her bible had changed. Instead of reading in her daily devotional section, it was now set to the final chapter in the bible.
The book of revelations.
The little woman was never one to think of ill omens, more so given that her soul belonged to God, but she found it strange that her bible would happen to be there. Then she remembered the gust of wind that came thru her window a few moments ago. Just the wind thought the little woman. It was nothing to really get worked up about. She’d just turn back to her devotional page. But as she began to turn the page, a particular verse in revelations jumped out at her.

“The third angel poured out his vial upon the rivers and fountains of waters; and they became blood.”

She looked at the verse and it was 16:4. How odd thought the little woman. She didn’t know why such a verse would speak to her at this time of night. She wasn’t much for a studier of the end times. But she looked back on the beginning of the chapter to find that it was the chapter that spoke of God releasing his final wrath on the people of earth who had allied themselves with the Anti-Christ. There was a reason why she didn’t like to dwell too much on the back of the book. Sure it tells of how God will triumph over the antichrist, but all those poor people. Even if they had turned their backs on God, it was still heartbreaking to read what was to become of them. Aching sores, blinding burns, total darkness and bitter pain. It was a warning to those that were to decide on who's side they would choose. But the little woman still saw them as brothers and sisters in agony for their folly. It hurt and touched her so that at times during her readings she would cry in pain for those lost souls, only to cry for joy when God returns to set up his New Kingdom.
But tonight, instead of following the mindset of praising God upon learning of the end of evil, the little woman is racked with guilt and feels a heavy weight on her heart. It strikes her like a solid blow to the chest. She can’t help but double over and begin to weep upon her open bible. She beings to cry, but not just cry for crying sake, but real wailing and flows of tears. As if she is not only crying for the poor souls lost to God but for every single person on the planet at this very moment who was unsaved and walking the path of sin. She cried for the unborn that were killed for the sake of pro-choice. She cried for those on their deathbeds that would not know the joy of believing in Jesus and having everlasting life, she cried for all of those who fought and died in wars that had know meaning, she cried for every family that lost a loved one thru decease and once that hardened their hearts with hate. She cried for the killers that knew not how to forgive and for those that unwittingly lead their fellow man into sin.
Most of all, she cried for her very generation.
The little woman was rack with such heavy sobs it hurt to exhale. When she thought she was finished with her tears, more of them would come forth like a mid spring rain. She didn’t know why she felt this all of a sudden and why it came to pass. She was heavy with such grief it was as if the entire sins of man were laid upon her. She took the place of those that could not or would not cry, and it nearly broke her heart, it was like losing a love she had never known. It cut into her soul so deeply she felt that it would take a miracle for God to heal her wounded heart. She prayed to God and asked him to take this horrible pain from her and help her to overcome it. In time her sniffling ceased and it hurt less to breathe. She didn’t know what came over her as she tried to dry away her tears.
It wasn’t until she noticed that her bible was wet that she knew something was wrong. She’d cried on her bible before in the past but instead of seeing watermarks on the pages, she saw black blotches; as if someone had used an old fashion ink pin and made drops marks on the written word. She also noticed that it was very hard to see and it hurt terribly to open her eyes. When she could she felt a stinging pain and saw red overshadowing all she look upon. The little woman looked at her shirtsleeves and saw they too were stained with black splotches. The color looking more stark on her white turtleneck. Slowly she made her way to the bathroom to splash some cool water on her face and help with the stinging she felt. The water ran from the faucet as she took handfuls of water into her cupped hands and began to wash her face and eyes. She didn’t know why but it still hurt just to squint let alone open her eyes up wind. She wondered if her eyes were having an adverse effect to the new contact lens prescription. Thru the pain she lifted her face from the sink and opened her eyes wide to see if there was any redness in them.
What she saw made her freeze in her tracks.
In the reflection of the mirror she saw a blond woman standing behind her. She saw this stranger had long blonde hair with ringlets framing her white, moon shaped face. Her eyes were dark and black rimmed with some sort of makeup. Her mouth was a shade darker than her complexion. But most shocking of all was how big her eyes were, and how they seemed to take in all that they could from the little woman’s reflection.
The little woman took in all of what she saw in the seconds it took for her to realize that in her reflection that her eyes were not only bloodshot but bleeding.
The Little woman was crying tears of blood.
The little woman screamed so loud and so long that it took all the members of her family calm her down. They found her hiding the bathroom bathtub and even then they had to break down the door to get to her. Once they found her, the little woman kept saying that her eyes were bleeding and that some blonde woman was in the house. Over and over again she would say this and would not stop till her older brother searched the house and the outside to prove to her that there were no intruders. When she cried out that she was bleeding and her eyes hurt, her family tried to show her that the sink, the towels she used to dry this blood were not bloody at all. That the only liquid that was on her cheeks, on her bible and wetting the towels was her very own salty tears. And that the very pain she felt was nothing more than her crying for a long time. That the reason why her face was red rimmed, puffy and bloodshot was because of her excessive crying.
That night, Elizabeth Omiko Tzu, could not sleep in her room. She stayed up all night sitting on the family couch with her eyes squeezed shut. She knew what she saw but couldn’t understood why only she could see such. That night, as she kept her eyes shut, she grabbed her gold cross that hung around her neck and prayed to God for understanding and protection. A prayer that she performed for the rest of the night. If only she had dared open her eyes at all during what remained of the sleepless night, and had the courage to go back into the room she fled from, she would’ve seen a blood red moon shining down thru here open window. And if her room door wasn’t closed, she could’ve also heard the laughter of a sinister man from the shadows.

Chapter 3: Mathieu

2006-09-10T08:48:00.000-07:00

All works on the blog "Castlevania: HeXeD Generation" are of the sole property of Matthew Sparks-Freemont and cannot be copied, written, transmitted in part or entirety, released or used for personal use/gain without the expressed written and oral consent of myself. Exhibition of these works without my oral and written concent is prohibited. "Castlevania", the characters, themes, and any items relating to "Castlevania" are either registered trademarks or trademarks of Konami Corporation.

Chapter 3: Mathieu

What a dreary night, thought the young man at his typewriter. But this was when he was at his best and artistic he thought to himself. With the moon so full in the sky, the wind promising the coming of the fall leaves and the turning of the seasons always left the young man in a sour mood. His tribe had already finished it’s harvest festival in late august so the fall should be marked as a start of the celebrations. But as always he was in a dark, brooding mood. He didn’t know why he was in such a mood all of a sudden given how the year has been since he graduated from high school. But these past two years has found him to be in a sorry state.
Despite his sorry state, it was at this time he was his best when it came to typing out what was on his mind. To say that his mind was a playground was to be an understatement. Every since high school this young man had the urge to write and tell a tale. Be it of any realm of imagination he would dive into it and make it somehow his own. People would marvel at how his ideas and descriptions would be so fleshed out as if they actually existed somewhere in worlds unseen. Such writings was able to get him into the school newspaper where he made many a student and teacher laugh at the anecdotes of the school and it’s everyday activities. But thru it all he still found himself to be an oddball in the school. Not fully a nerd but not fully accepted either.
At first he thought it was because he was native american in a privately run Christian school but that bigotry thought came and went. He held their beliefs and their convictions yet in the end he never really felt attached to the place. In fact, all that time he thought to himself that something was very wrong with the world in general. Sure he had a rough life as it was thus why he had to be in such an institution: given that or some young adults care center what choice did he have? But despite this second chance at life, be it not only from the tough streets but also with communion with the Lord, he still felt that there was something out there waiting to pounce on him like the roaring lion of the biblical teachings. He wasn’t sure what to call it at first but he felt that life was going too good to last. That despite all the goodness that was going on, badness was slowly gaining ground in the new world that he lived in.
He had high hopes for the future once he had graduated. He would go to an excellent college, get an AS in police science, perhaps even upon graduation take a job with the reservation police force. He’d show all those nay Sayers that he couldn’t survive on the rez, HA!
But as the months passed the young man found himself preoccupied with other venues of study that he did not expect himself to be compelled to research: Occult studies. It had to had been that religious studies class back in college the young man thought. It was a track of thought that made him keep thinking back to what might’ve been. Instead of going into what his parents thought would’ve been an excellent career for himself, he instead changed his major from police science to religious studies. To say that his parents were upset with him would’ve been an understatement. He’d told them that if worst came to worst he could still gain an AS and continue that course if religious studies didn’t turn out to be all that it was cracked up to be.
Yet his parents knew they couldn’t be fooled, where is it that you can get a high paying job being a master at world religions? Perhaps a teaching job but the young man hardly had any patients with himself let alone other people. Which is why he went into that particular part of study if not for just the thrill of the debates but to learn all the knowledge of times past. Here was a class that poked at the very fabric of human understanding and spirituality! To say the least it was were the majority of the myths and legends of mankind can be traced back to. Even his own tribe’s religion was cataloged in this system of information. And with that information came the knowledge of most of the unexplained and unsolved issues with the occult and the studies there in. He was fascinated to learn about the druids and other pagan groups that tried to overtake the world scene during their time, the rise and fall of the roman catholic empire and the off shoots of Christianity that brought him to believe in what he does today.
Learning about the lost half truths and double negatives of the past was just as exciting as firing a 9mm semi-auto or chasing down a perp. But thru all his studies and all his activities into his future, he kept getting the feeling that he would not have one. He couldn’t explain the feeling of pending doom as he reloaded a shotgun during target practice or turned a page on a copy of the dead sea scrolls. It was like a shadow or creeping thing that wanted to not just overtake him and his thoughts but also tear him down so that he would be no better than nothing. The doctors told him it was because he had changed a new leaf and begun a new life for himself. finding ones self on the wrong side of the law was never an easy pill to swallow when one was young. But to change that path and get use to it was never easy. That was something he had know doubt on. But with his new found faith in God, anything was possible. So long as one believes in him, they would have a future and everlasting life.
Then why was he feeling he had no life? Sure he tried to date and enjoy his youth but no female would look at him let alone talk to him. He was never tough looking let alone good looking in his youth, it was why he did all he could to act tough. But with his coming into college his body gave way from the overly tall teenager to that of a tall, dark skinned young man. He had high cheek bones and the workout regiments that the police science course gave him made his body hard and lean. You could hardly tell he had an ample body with strong muscles given the bagginess of the clothing he wore.
An outfit that he kept wearing even to the present day. Right now he found himself in front of his typewriter in the house of his parents. Being a poor college boy he still had to stay with them till he fully graduated in two more years. Just now he was preparing to write another occult thesis about the legend of the Scholomance. His parents never cared for his work on such dark subjects. But it seemed a fitting subject given how he kept feeling that all his future would have would be dark thoughts and dark deeds. Given that he was 23 years of age, he figured he was old enough to handle such evil situations.
the more this young man read and learned about the evil in this world, and the dark religions it spawned there after, he wanted to help combat this evil that was ever present since the dawn of man. His parents told him the best way for him to combat this was to live the chrisitan life, walk in the light of God and be a shining example of what God can do in one’s life. Pray for those who need it and pray for yourself to be better in your life as a whole.
then why did this young man feel he needed to do more? I remembered his one friend from high school who almost fell temptation to the dark forces. He remembered back then how much he wished he could have found those that tried to turn her to darkness and banish them from the world forever. But again he was still a teen and such things were the norm of the melodrama. He thought it was a phase given how he wanted to look smart and tough in front of this cute girl but as the years passed and his studies into the occult continued he had to admit he did have a pure loathing for those people. People who would twist the truth to fool others into their dark schemes and in the end lead them to their own self destruction.
This young man didn’t know why but he felt and thought he saw such evils happening right before his eyes. One of the reasons why he kept getting into trouble in his youth was because of what he could see that others could not. Another choice in wanting to learn about the religious studies: He could see spirits. At least, that’s what he thought they were. Since he was little he had the affinity to sense the presence of things that were not seen with the naked eye. Thanks to school and researches of his own choose, he learned of what many scholars and preachers called the spirit world. And how such worlds were divided. He never thought he could be someone that would be able to tell the difference between that of physical and spiritual. He tried to tell his trusted consorts about these visions only to be answered with ridicule and laughter.
In the end he stopped talking about it altogether.
Despite this he could still see things that were unexplained to him and started to see this vision as a curse. He began ignoring it and continued to do such till his college days. But when the feeling of pending doom would build again and he jumped into the studies of the occult, he would start seeing things again. All around him he noticed the telltale signs of discord and discontentment with humanity. It was an odd feeling to face when all you have known is a rural town in the Midwest. In the end all he could do was what he was instructed to do in the past: Pray about it and continue with his research. Be it in the bible or in other studies he had hoped to find out what he must do about this feeling of dread. Some classmates thought he just should get laid or go out and get wasted. That he should stop taking everything so serious and try to lighten up. He tried some forms of lightening up as per suggested. He even went as far as to try to ask a girl out on a date. The young man kept hoping that he would find an answer to what he was feeling. Mom figured he was just lost in trying to find his path in life and he would eventually figure it out
Whereas Dad had a bit more to think about on why his son was who he was. He found his sons interest in the religious not too unusual. When the young man asked his father why he thought such he was told that he comes from a long line of medicine men from the tribe they were in. How in fact his father would’ve become a medicine man himself if he had pursued the studies that his father before him told him to take. Instead of diligently taking to his studies, his father went the way of all wayward youth during the 1960. In the end the young man’s grandfather was the last of the medicine men in the family. The young man even remembered how his father was proud to see him study so hard and spoke of the sadness he felt because he believed he had robbed his own son of the very honor to become that of a medicine man.
The young man tried to tell his father that it did not mean much to him given how most of his tribe hardly respected him as one of their own. An apple Indian he remembered: Red on the outside, white on the inside. More so given how he converted to a white religion and taken up study in the white religious studies. Yet despite this, he had a feeling that his father watched over him with pride in his heart to see how devoted he was to his studies. If only they understood why he did such thought the young man. It wasn’t just because of learning sake, but if anything to find out why he was feeling this sense of terrible things to come. The year 1999 was suppose to mean the dawn of a new century and a new start. If that was the case then why did this young man feel that at the turn of the century it would meant he end of everything?
He was halfway thru his typing when he suddenly fell short of finishing his sentence. An odd sense passed over him as he put on his small squared glasses and looked around his room. The room itself wasn’t anything special, but what was different was the fact that he had the window open to enjoy the cool fall breeze.
There was no longer one.
Not just no breeze, there was no sound at all from the outside. Sensing something was wrong, the young man got up and left his room. The house his family shared wasn’t a large house but given it’s size it would be hard to drown out any noise coming from within. He heard his mother and father enjoying the television while the rest of his siblings were out and about doing their usual evening rituals. For some reason he had a sudden urge to go outside into the night. That was nothing of the ordinary for he loved to run in the darkness; listening to the music in his CD player. But on this night he felt no interest in running or listening to music that allowed his imagination to wander. Without a second thought, he left his home and went out into the cool night. the house that his family lived in happens to be on the border of the indian reservation. So the trek to rural back yard to wilderness was a short one. The young man let himself open up in ways he wasn’t sure how and tried to listen to what nature had in store for him tonight. It was highly unusual for the forest to be so quiet at this time of night. Sure it was at the hour of midnight but there should be at least the sound of an owl or the chirping of crickets in the under growth.
Yet there was not a sound to be heard.
Not even that of a wolf howling at the full moon.
Something was wrong, something was very wrong.
The young man was about to turn back and head home to safety when he began to hear the soft sound of weeping. He strained to hear what exactly the sound was and in time he began to make out the noise in the quiet night.
It was a woman crying.
A woman crying?
Instantly his curiosity was peaked. Did by chance a couple went out into the night, got drunk, had a fight and the man left his woman alone in the dark? Tipsy and scared? It was possible given the activity on the reservation but why did the young man have the urge to pull out his cross from under his shirt and unsheathed his knife? He thought about going back home and getting his father for help but just as he thought such an action, the crying began to fade away. Knowing it would be against his better judgment, the young man decided to follow the sound. No time to get the family shotgun or gather up the family, whatever it was that was out there, it was fading fast.
After giving a silent prayer to God, he went on his way in search of the crying. At times it seemed to be to his right but then would suddenly change to his left. One moment it was almost too far away to hear, the next it was practically on top of him. Given the situation he was sure he was not facing something that would be constituted as the norm. He was sure that he had wandered into the realm of the supernatural. He thought he would be scared but he felt that he had been ready for this encounter for years. And in some ways he was.
After an hour of searching, he decided to try a different trick than trying to see his way thru the darkness. the moon was helpful enough in giving him the light he needed to see his path. It helped as well that he knew this area well. But what he needed was to not search for the thing that was out there, he should allow himself to be found by it. Spirits had the trickiest ideas to confuse and get someone lost in the very area that is familiar to them. The darkness can make many regular landmarks recognizable in the day be totally useless at night. Upon deciding this the young man sat himself down Indian style and place his knife in his lap. From there he closed his eyes and waited.
Still he could not hear anything out in the wilderness. No wind or animal calls could be heard this night of nights. All he could do was feel what most could not feel. He felt the moonlight bathe his body and the sensation the grass was under the clothing he wore. He probably looked out of place wearing black baggy, mutli- pocketed jeans with a knife sheath attacked to his belt at mid thigh. Finishing his look was a black shirt with a black hoodie that had the punisher logo on the front when zipped up. He didn’t know why he decided to wear such that night but it seemed more appropriate to wear such when one is in a dark mood.
Or when about to face the dead.
The only color to his outfit was the silver cross that dangled from his chest, the very one that he grabbed with one free hand as his other rest on the hilt of his blade. Suddenly, the young man felt another presence near him. It wasn’t that of an animal nor was it of something that was human. It didn’t make a sound or give off any smell, but he knew it was there. Just then the wind picked up and howled thru the tree limbs of the forest.
The young man opened his eyes.
A beautiful blonde woman was facing him.
Police science training took over and the young man found himself in a combat stance with knife ready, it’s blade facing outward in his inverted grip. She wasn’t close enough to be in his personal space or kill zone but she was close enough to make one nervous. The young man was about to call out a challenge till he looked the young woman over. Her hair was wavy along with having ringlets frame her white face. Her frame was slender and graceful, allowing her body to look wonderful in the outfit she wore. An outfit that was unfamiliar to the young man. It had the markings and cut of that in the Victorian era but what was different was that the skirt was far too short and could’ve made much due with shorts. It was green in color and fit her like a second skin. But what jumped out the most from this woman's appearance was her eyes and her cheeks.
They were wide and shining.
Her checks were went with tears.
“It’s you,” said the young man, slowly lowering his knife. He had finally found the woman he heard crying. Or was it that she had found him, right now he wasn’t sure. there was nothing that seemed sinister about her yet he was reluctant to fully sheath his blade. The blonde merely blinked at him and took in the full view that was the young man standing before him. “Are you alright?” asked the young man. Still the blonde gazed at him as if she was trying to pierce his very soul. A look he didn’t care for to say the least. He was about to ask the same question again when the blonde began to walk toward him. Instinctively he started to back away but stopped himself short. If this was a spirit or a dark entity he would not show it any fear. Fear is what had power over him and he wasn't about to allow that to happen.
Despite this he brought his knife back up to bare. Either the blonde didn't care or wasn’t scared of the blade, she continued her march till her face was only inches away from his. The young man saw how the blonde walked and knew that indeed she was that of a woman. The curve of her hips and the way she walked proved that. But upon seeing her up close and almost pressing up against him was almost more than he could bear. It was bad enough that he had never been with a woman but her persona was wrecking havoc with his inner senses. She had no smell yet she felt cold and distance despite being so close. Her eyes were warm and shining thought he also saw that they were long since dead.
Who was this woman?
Before he could stutter his question, the blonde lightly brought her right hand to his cheek and caressed it. Her touch was cold that it almost made him jump out of his skin. Worse off the touch felt human, no spirit could make themselves that solid to touch someone. there was some fleeting sense of disatachement during such encounters the young man had read. But to this point the blonde had been breaking several of the supernatural rules. But the young man did not think it wise to point this out to her. He could feel the warmth of his skin creep along her hand as if to warm hers as well. As she continued to caress his cheek the young man continued to look into her eyes and drink in her features. Given the lovely view, he knew something was wrong.
And without warning the blonde gave him a slap that snapped his head to the side and made him see stars.
The pain shot thru his cheek like a splash of ice water as he began to taste the coppery fluid of blood flow into his mouth. When he moved his eyes back to face the blonde that assaulted him, she was gone. He looked down to see his own blood dribble down the side of his lip and onto the ground, right next to a set of dainty footprints. The young man did a full 360 of his surroundings only to find nothing but himself alone in the woods. he touched the throbbing pain on the side of his cheek, the blonde had hit him! Not just hit him but hard enough for him to accidentally bite himself and draw blood! No spirit could’ve done such like this he thought. Spirits were just that, spirits. They had no body or physical presence. And yet here was this mysteriously blonde woman in the woods, crying her eyes out for an hour, then touching him and giving him a smarting that not only hurt his face but rocked the very ideas he had come to learn in his studies!
He suddenly began to feel very venerable out in the woods. Just when that thought entered his mind, the young man began to feel a dark presence enter the woods. He felt it slither and slide along the leaves and blow along the trails of the wind. It rustled the tree branches and forced the young man’s heart to race. And thru the arrival of this dark presence he began to hear something else in the background. Unlike the crying of just moments ago but of something that promised evil deeds in the coming of darkness. The feeling that the young man had been feeling throughout his childhood came back in full force. So much force that he lost his balance and fell to his knees. He felt something trying to crash into him, not just physically but spiritually as well. He felt as if his very soul was being pressed tightly together, suffocating him, making it hard to breathe. Never in his life did this feeling ever feel so conflicting and all encompassing. Despite the discomfort, it was something he was use to and something he could shrug off as he stood in the darkness. And thru it all he finally began to register the very sound that was in the wind.
The sound of sinister laughter.
The young man stood up and thrust his blade in the air, giving out his own war cry toward this evil laughter. He decided that if this was to be the day that evil took him and destroyed what remained of his body, he would know full well that his soul would not be taken by these villain and vile fiends. The laughter and the wind howled at him and he returned the gesture with his cries of challenge and combat.
And just like that, it was gone. The young man was panting and bleeding hard thru the corner of his lip. He knew he just faced off with evil and stood strong against it. Why it left he was not sure, but he knew for a fact that he had just faced off with the very ill feelings that had kept with him all thru his youth. For the first time in his life, out in that dark wilderness, he felt he had a future. And if to try to tear him area from that thought, the young man had the urge to look up at the full moon and see it turn to blood. He knew what he was seeing, whatever evil was out there it was trying to scare him into submission. But he was not the type to run like a coward, like a whipped dog with it’s tail between it’s legs. It was a challenge, a challenge not only for the fate of his future but for the fate of all that he felt was about to come to an end. That very night, Mathieu Parker Freeman, thrust his blade up high and took the challenge with combative words in his heart. “Just bring it!!”

Chapter 2: Kandace

2006-08-27T14:50:00.000-07:00

All works on the blog "Castlevania: HeXeD Generation" are of the sole property of Matthew Sparks-Freemont and cannot be copied, written, transmitted in part or entirety, released or used for personal use/gain without the expressed written and oral consent of myself. Exhibition of these works without my oral and written concent is prohibited. "Castlevania", the characters, themes, and any items relating to "Castlevania" are either registered trademarks or trademarks of Konami Corporation.

Chapter 2: Kandace

This is so boring, thought the young lady as she dressed for tonight's festivities. Her family always comes here every fall to visit the family estate but she’s been here so many times that at times she wishes she’d just stayed home. The only bright spot to every trip down south was that New Orleans was so close. Even tonight as she looked out her window on the estate she could see the bright lights of the Big Easy. On warm quite nights like theses one could say that even the sounds of the city could be heard from this far out into the inner country.
She recalls the stories her family speaks of on how her ancestors originally immigrated here back in the 1800 and create this fine estate in honor of the family name. The name itself she wasn’t well known with. Be it of French or Spanish decent she wasn’t sure. All she knows is that she has the look and style of that bygone age. When she was little she had fallen in love with the estate and the nearby city. At times she even felt that she originally belong here, given how strange and eccentric she was. Her skin white and smooth like any ageless beauty from that bygone era. The only difference that stuck out was that her hair was a naturally waviness that would find it hard pressed to be styled into anything that required the Victorian straight hair. Even now as she began to dress for the family evening ball, she finds herself interested in the Victorian era dresses that happen to be in the closet of the room she made as her resting place. She’d always seen them either being worn by other family members or in their original resting places. They’d been tended to and handed down by the generations before he she was told. She remembered how she hoped to one day wear such clothing during the family ball.
Now it was her turn to wear the family cloth.
But she couldn’t decide what to wear.
Despite her turning of age she still wasn’t comfortable wearing skirts. Back in the days of her catholic school youth, she never got use to wearing those school outfits. Some might’ve found them cute and seductive but she just found them being a pain. In the end she felt the compulsion to wear a nice light purple colored Victorian top with frills around the chest area. Since the top was only that and not the fittings for a full dress she decide to go with her usual garb for the evening consisting of black jeans, black shoes that would have gone well with her former school outfit and a red jacket with sleeves that reached her wrists and body length that hit her at the slimness of her waist. Checking herself out in the mirror she say she struck a lovely figure. Being a former member of her schools sprint team, her legs were slim and firm. She had the hips of a fast sprinter and the waist to prove it. The only pronounced feature in her proportions would be her breast size. Something that was not the norm for a good sprinter. Even now she saw that the top made the most of her breasts and showed much of her cleavage along with the silver cross that rested there.
Let them stare she thought as she gave one final tug on her jacket. She normally didn’t wear make up and decided tonight would be no different. As she made her way down the spiral staircase to the ballroom in the estate, she spied the members of her extended family along with various friends of the family, city officials and servants. Like the setting of the house, everyone was decked out in Victorian garb. Many were ill-suited to the look while others excelled in such finery. She noticed that many of her cousins and their friends gave her a long, drinking glance to her looks. She tossed her hair to the side in a flirty gesture as she made her way down the stairs. Once on ground level she took a tall class of the families wine stocks and took a sip.
Turning 21 had it’s advantages.
During the night she mingled with the rest of her family. She shook many a hand as was kissed many a time on the cheek and back of hand. She got many glances from the opposite sex and was offered many phone numbers to that benefit. Being she wasn’t officially attached to anyone in particular it was fun to see how many men would come to her like moths to a flame. She even got a marriage proposal from a unblooded relative. As the night progressed and the string orchestra continued to carry the night, the party moved out onto the veranda and the estate grounds. there a feast was laid out for the family along with tables and chairs for their benefit. The wine ran freely and the party continued in earnest. Eat, drink and be happy seemed to be the mantra for this evening. For everyone enjoyed the evening’s festivities. The young woman wined and dined with the rest of her family. Dance with many a young man and showed a keen in very few of them. Some were nice and wholesome enough to be with in a night’s pleasure but for the most part of the evening she was not interesting.
Oddly enough she was interested in a blond girl that she caught glimpses of during the entire night. She was the same Victoria garb like the rest of the family but given her blonde hair she stuck out. Mores with her light complexion and huge eyes. But unlike the rest of the family and their co-horts this mysterious woman wore her outfit very well. As if she was born to wear such fittings. Off and on she’d see this girl during the night. And every time she’d try to go and see this beautiful stranger, someone would always get in the way in form of introduction or request of a dance. In the beginning she’d be the proper daughter to her father’s family but as the night passed by and she caught glimpse of this woman, she began to feel as if this girl was teasing her. She’d inquire from other family members on who she was but they would always reply the same. That they knew not of any blond or where she came from. Given their perspective they saw nothing of this girl. Off and on she’s see her in the night but it wasn’t till around midnight that this young woman decide to put an end to this blond stalker.
As the party continued around her, she made her way to the blond who happened to be at the edge of the estate. She had her back to her, looking toward the dense foliage that was the swamp. without looking back, the blond began to walk into this no mans land. Anyone in their right mind at the time wouldn’t have considered going out into the swamp at night, but this young woman wasn’t about to be scared off by the topography of the estate to let this mysterious woman get away. Plus, unlike this mysterious woman who happened to be wearing a short skirt, she had been wearing black jeans and comfortable shoes. Making her trek into the swamp not as uncomfortable as one would think.
Deeper the blond would go into the swamp, finding paths in the way that not even the young woman herself would be able to see if not for keeping an eye on this blond. As the young woman continued her chase, she hardly noticed that the noise of the party grew quieter and quieter till all she could hear was her breathing and the wildlife of the swamp. She was lucky she didn’t fall into any bodies of water or happen upon a sleeping alligator. The only wildlife she saw was the dragonflies illuminated by the scores of fireflies that drifted lazily along her path. Before the young woman realized things had gotten out of control she found herself hopelessly lost. Everywhere she looked she saw nothing but swampland and more swampland. She couldn’t hear nor see the estate or the party let alone the blond she was chasing after. Without any other idea on where to go she continued in the path she thought she saw the blond last till finally she emerged from the swamp into a small clearing.
In the middle of the clearing she finally saw the blond. She was standing still among a clearing of oddly shaped stones. She appeared to be standing next to a particular stone but gave little attention to the young woman's arrival. the young woman made a step forward and ended up stubbing her toe against a small stone that lay hidden in the weeds. She was about to bend down to pick it up when she realize that it wasn’t your ordinary stone she had stubbed her foot on.
It was a grave marker.
The young woman had stumbled onto a graveyard.
How could this be she thought to herself. Graveyards were somewhat uncommon in this region of the country, given how New Orleans and the estate were located below the water table. Yet here she stood among a sea of headstones, some looking as old as time itself.
Swamp fog began to gather.
As the young woman made her way toward the blond, her mind kept racing over the situation. If this was indeed a grave yard, how did it survive? Surely the spring swamp floods and the rainstorms would’ve washed it out centuries ago. But the more she wandered toward her objective, the more the impossible looked all the more possible. She felt she was trending on hallowed ground, the thumping of her heart hit up against the silver cross that lay across her breast. She did her best to keep an eye on the blond at the grave marker but had to look down every now and then to ensure she didn’t trip and break her neck over one of those mysterious death markers. this whole situation seemed so unreal and being that of a dream. Even the fog began to build in mass as she approached her quarry. She had been too busy trying to watch her step that she did not realize to look up for the blond. When she did this she found that she had vanished! What the hell thought the young woman. How could the blond just disappear. She started to look around to see if she left anything behind but the damned fog started to get in the way. What started out as a fine mist started to become that of pea soup, thick and heavy. By luck or chance she saw the fog break long enough to see the ground.
There remained two dainty footprints next to a tombstone.
They were not footprints left by her feet for the tread was not like those of her shoes. But that didn’t explain where the blond went. Did she fly away? As she went down on one knee to examine the footprints, her eye trailed to the tombstone next to it. It had much grime on it but she could make out a few words thanks to the moonlight. Here is said “Lecarde” and below it something about being a “killer”. The young woman brushed her hand over the wordings in hopes of reading more. but only found the stone smeared with a dark coloring after she ran her hand over it. How odd she thought, it wasn’t cold to the touch but warm. Almost hot and slick with life. As the fog gather ever thicker, moonlight began to shine through the opening. The moonlight made the smear on the tombstone all the more stark and black. As she looked closer at the mark she noticed it didn’t have the strong odor of moss or anything decaying. IF anything it smelled more coppery and like that of spilled...
The young woman realized what she saw was blood. She quickly backed away as the flog engulfed the tombstone. She tried to wipe what remained of the blood on her jeans but only found that more came to take it’s place in the palm of her hands. She looked at her other hand to see in horror that blood we seeping out of the middle of her hand.
Both of her hands were bleeding.
“Stigmata!” the young woman thought. She had read about it back in school but she never thought she’d see the day such happening to her. Tried as she might to rid herself of the bleeding, no matter were she wiped it off on her jeans, it welled back up in the middle of her hands till it started to spill over. Her very own life fountain in the palms of her hands. She looked around to find if anyone was around only to see that the fog had completely overtaken the clearing, the moon shining brightly in the darkness. Then suddenly she heard something come all round here. It started to engulf her much like how the fog was trying to. It came out low and soft at first, like a chuckle, but as time passed it grew in volume and crested to that of a sinister laugh. It was as if the very wind picked up and decided to sound like the cackling of a very wicked person. A person who had promises of evil toward you, a person who was going to take the very life from you.
Your very soul.
The young woman did not stay around long to allow the laughter to overtake her and drive her mad. She put her sprinter’s training into action and began to run from the clearing. She did not know where she was to run to or where but she knew that she had to get away from IT before it came for her and took her away. She almost tripped on three stone markers on her way from the clearing but she quickly gained her footing and continued her mad dash away from insanity. She felt the blood on her hands running freely and dropping in huge, wet, drops as she ran. She didn’t understand it but she felt a lingering presence chasing her as she tried to run away. She knew not if it was the blonde or something far more sinister but she knew if she stopped and faced it should most surely die.
she feared she’d lose her very soul.
She knew this evil before, she once sought after it to serve it’s wicked designs. But from the abyss she climbed out and found the path of righteousness. Only now the very thing she sought for in that abyss was right behind her, gaining ground, and had every intention of taking her back into the shadow. As she sprinted thru the swamp, she felt this presence about to overtake her, she screamed.
One moment she thought she was done for, then the next she found herself punching thru the foliage and found herself back on the family estate. She accidentally ran into one of the servants and he dropped his contents onto the ground with crystalline crashes and silver metals resounding. Everyone and everyone that was nearby rushed to the young woman's aid. She tried to get up but found herself being helped up by several of the men in the party. When she fought herself of off them she looked around to make sure she was back on the home grounds.
The presence that was behind her was gone.
She looked around to see if she was infact where she was suppose to be and all she found looking at her back was the eyes of family and relatives. Her father came and gave her the once over. He noticed that she was dirty and sweaty but other than the wide eyed look of shock, she appeared okay. The young woman was not sure if she should tell anyone about what she just experienced, if it had been anything but weird dream or perhaps she had too much to drink. She remembered about her hands and looked down only to find that there was no blood on them. The only thing there was some dirt and grass stains.
But she had seen blood coming out, hadn't see?
Her father called for some of the male members to help her daughter into the house and to her room. The men noticed that there was a slight tremble to the young woman's frame but thought best not to say anything about it. Out wandering the grounds at night I suppose said one of the older family members. With that topic touched off the stories and the folktales of haunted plantations and ghosts apparitions. that’s what the young woman heard all talk about as she was helped back to her room. Two of the men were nice enough to see her to her room and she did notice that one of them was more than interested in joining her there later in the night.
She ignored them and quickly locked the door once she was inside. The young woman didn’t know what to make out what had just happened. She knew she saw something out in the swamp that night but it all felt so vague and unreal. Even now she started to forget the words she read on the tombstone.
“Lecarde”
“Killer”
What did this all mean?
She decided some fresh air was something she needed right now so she opened up the window to let the breeze in. As she turned her back to the window to begin undressing she stopped. Suddenly, she felt that someone was watching her from behind. Figuring it was probably one of the younger men trying to catch a peak of her she whirled around in hopes of catching them off guard. But she saw instead made her blood run cold.
hanging in the view of the window was the moon. The very moon that shined it’s gilding light to the words and the tombstone in the unknown graveyard. But before her very eyes she saw it turn blood red. Just like how the blood off her hands dripped away, the redness overtook it like as if blood was being pored over it.
She knew it was her blood on that moon this night.
And with that image returned the sinister laughter.
The young woman knew she had done many stupid things in her youth, but she never realized that those actions would one day come in this form. Chasing the forbidden knowledge was indeed a double edge sword. And now she has found herself pierced straight thru with it.
All was quite as she saw this hellish image and laughter that could only come from the bowels of hell. At that every moment, Kandace Lestriss Boveairx, was in fear for her very soul....

Chapter 1: Stephen

2006-08-23T04:42:00.000-07:00

All works on the blog "Castlevania: HeXeD Generation" are of the sole property of Matthew Sparks-Freemont and cannot be copied, written, transmitted in part or entirety, released or used for personal use/gain without the expressed written and oral consent of myself. Exhibition of these works without my oral and written concent is prohibited. "Castlevania", the characters, themes, and any items relating to "Castlevania" are either registered trademarks or trademarks of Konami Corporation.

Under the backdrop of any major city in the United States of America, one would see the setting of a coffee shop as a typical feature in any city landscape. In the year 1999, they would be considered a commonplace despite the rise of the ever growing Starbucks coffee chains. Even so, around any city if you look hard enough, you can find a independent run coffee shop here and there. In this case of the city Lincoln, Nebraska, Most try to have the classic look or some even try to be the urber-culture style. Then there are the types of coffee shops that look so run down and smoke filled that you’d accidentally mistaken them for crack houses. It’s not the fault of the owners, it’s just the feel that they try to convey...
In this particular coffee shop the walls have peeling wallpaper that was used to hide the speckled sky blue paint that was hastily used to try to add some color to the concrete walls. Most of the tables and chairs were mismatched. Some of them no more than park benches and tables. Others could’ve come from any home in this big city. But like it can be said, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And the charm of this coffee shop had more to do with the customers than the surroundings. It was almost run like a late night diner. It was a place were teens and generation Xers could come if they had the need for a cup of coffee. A place were they could unwind and play a card game or use one of the tables for their college studies. Some use it to just get away from the hectic world they live around. But then there are those that just come by and take in the atmosphere. The coffee shop wasn’t much to look at but it had character...
The young man sitting at one of these mismatched tables was doing just that as he slowly sipped at this hot coffee. He had just got off his nightshift job as a pizza delivery boy and by all rights should be in bed right at this moment. But once again, as was the case for the past two weeks, sleep was evading him. Since he didn’t feel the need to head back to his apartment just yet, the young man decided to stop by his favorite place and have a cup of joe as he watched the world pass him by. Normally he might see a familiar face or two in the night. But tonight of most auspicious nights he was among strangers. Being in the mood not to make friends, he continues to sip his coffee alone and allowed for his mind to aimlessly wander. But instead of his mind setting the track on wondering what he will do tomorrow and when he should call that cute blonde, he found himself thinking about his past and how he found himself here in the city of Lincoln, Nebraska.
A country boy by birth, he spent most of his time out in the fields or in the rural landscape. He went to school in the nearest town and graduated without any problems. It wasn’t till after high school be began to feel out of place. He was told such would be the case, by his high school counselor, when the normal patterns of his life would fall apart and he would have to make the life choices in the coming years.
He figured that he should do what most others do in his class and head off to college. So he filed the papers and found himself in the big city, ready to take on what college would throw at him. But once here, he found college not all it was cracked up to be. Sure the classes were no problem but the atmosphere and the setting was all wrong to him. He felt so alien there and wrong that he resigned his enrollment in the allotted cutoff date. From there he just did the actions that most would have to do just to survive in the city. He got an apartment, a job, and what would give him a modest lifestyle. He might look out of place with his blue jeans and t-shirt with a unbutton collar shirt, amongst the designer clothing crowd of his generation. But like he said to himself, he’s a farm boy: you can take the farm boy to a city but you can’t take the farm out of him.
He once again thought about his past and all that made him the man he was today. It’s a train of thought he normally didn’t like to progress given his feeling. Every time he thinks about such, he feels there is something missing. That he was meant to have a purpose in life. He remembers his mother and father, his mother a Christian with strong convictions that her children would receive some form of religious upbringing. the cross underneath his t-shirt was proof of her parental skills. But his father, he remembers how he was a tough man. He could remember all he did in his life about seeing his dad out in the fields, working on cars, working the tough job and the back breaking labor. And never once did he break stride, it was his element. Not only could he do the normal white collar job but he had the sharp mind to do any blue collar workload. He never understood why he chose the hard road than the easy one. It wasn’t till the year he was graduating that his father told him he did such work because at the time there was no other means of employment. “and it keeps a man humble” he also remembered. Though some would say he didn’t have much of a tolerance for the religion. He knew that his father believed just as much as his mother did.
The only mystery that this young man knew about his father was were exactly came from. Mom spoke little on how they met and the circumstances of their encounter. As for dad’s ancestors he was just as perplexed as the rest of his brothers and sisters. He thought one day he’d do one of those internet searches to find out his dad’s ancestral past but he never got around to it. He knew that his father was originally from Texas but before then was anyone’s guess. Even when he asked his father about that, dad would always clam up or say that he’d tell him later. For the life of him, he thought that perhaps dad did some horrible crime and he was trying to hide away from it. But as the years passed and this young man grew to full manhood, he got the feeling that dad wasn’t running away from something but trying to keep some burden from others. If not to allow them to have to carry such in the known future...
He remembers how his father wanted him to grow up strong and proud of his family. Proud to be apart of such a big and God believing family, and to be strong to protect those that you care about so much. The strong statement was what made such an impact on him. Throughout high school he did his all to work out and play the roughest sports he was able to. By the end of his years in high school he had the legs of a runner, the body of a quarterback, and the brains of any math major.
A far cry from his skinny puberty years.
Perhaps he should’ve joined the army. They could’ve used him and his skills. Especially after the war in Iraq and the policing actions US forces were involved with in Kosovo. But instead of listening to the recruiters, he went the way of college, and is where he is today. At a glance one would say that he was living a full life. At age 21, he was on his way to make his mark in life. the only question for himself was “what mark”? To be honest he felt rather lost on what to do next. He knew there was indeed more to life than hanging out with friends, working his job and going home to an empty apartment. He certain wasn’t interesting in making his life more complicated by getting married to some woman and having babies with her just for having sake. He didn’t feel that the time was right to settle down yet, that something was left unfinished.
He couldn’t explain it but the lack of interest in sleep these past two weeks gave him the feeling of pending dread. It was bad enough that before the two weeks he would be haunted by nightmares he could not remember. That something was slowly creeping itself out of the shadows and was ready to not only pounce on him but on all that he held dear. He remembered what his father said about being strong to protect those he held most dear. Why did he always come back to that? Even now he reaches for his cross under his shirt without a second moments thought. What was this shadow that was coming for him and those he cared for? He sure wasn’t buying into this Y2K scare that everyone was talking about. Sure it was the middle of October but the technical community had two more months to tend to this pending disaster. They’d know about it since the beginning of 1999. So the only ones foolish enough to think the world was going to end were the doomsdayers and those that were buying bunkers out in the middle of no where to protect themselves from the hordes of hungry and crazed people once they learned that their PC’s and cell phones stopped functioning. Even that made for TV movie was a joke!
So then what was it of all nights that was keeping him on edge? He did his best not to let the darkness and the shadows of the night get the best of him. They were just ghost stories, things didn’t exist in the darkness. Despite his believes, there was nothing to fear from night, was there?
All of a sudden, he began to feel a creeping foreboding enter the coffee shop. He didn’t dare turn around, giving what this feeling was the pleasure of rattling him. He couldn’t explain it but it felt that something was filling the room though there was no one else around besides the few people in this night. The dread slowly began to build and start to consume the young man. He found it harder and harder to breathe. He did his best not to look panicked but a cute blonde haired waitress wearing a shirt skirt noticed his wide-eyed appearance. He became aware of the fine sheen of sweat starting to build on his lower lip and the hairs on the back of his neck standing up on end. If he was lucky the waitress might mistake him as some burned out junkie. But the outfit he wore and the stylish goatee gave only the impression that he was not the type to fall the sway of any designer drug.
The young man’s chest started to hurt so he gripped the front of his shirt. Immediately the foreboding started to subside. He didn’t realize that he had accidentally brushed up against the cross his mother had given him on his graduation. He immediately grab the cross thru the fabric and began to recite the Lord’s prayer. With every sentence, the darkness began to recede. When finished with the prayer, it had left altogether. Others in the coffee shop began to take notice of the young man gripping his shirt as if he was having a panic attack. “Are you alright sir?” asked the blonde haired waitress. It wasn’t till she spoke that the young man finally took notice of the waitress. She wasn’t the norm with the other girls around here. Her outfit had an outdated, late Victorian look and her face was that of an ageless beauty. Her eyes had the odd rim of darkness around them yet her eyes themselves sparked with the knowledge of ages.
A Goth thought the young man. A very smart one or one on some drug. He nodded to her and said he was well, he just didn’t feel well all of a sudden. “I hope it wasn’t from the coffee good sir.” she answered. “Here, have one on the house.” she said as she placed a fresh cup in front of him. He nodded his thanks and she answered with a wink as she walked back toward the counter. That was the most oddest of situations to be in he thought as he picked up the fresh coffee to take a sip. Perhaps there was something to his upbringing than he realized. He watched the skylight as he took a sip from the coffee before him. Something was wrong he noticed, the coffee had an odd taste to it. It wasn’t one of the house’s normal blends, it had a sort of coppery taste. Almost like sucking on a dirty penny but with a more liquid quality....
The young man violently spit out the coffee and watched it stain the table before him.
The stains were that of blood.
The young man dropped the cup and quickly jumped out of his chair. The sound of it’s falling made everyone look up at him. The young man stared aghast as he saw the spilled contents of the vile drink stain the table as it poured out of it’s cup. Then the most wicked thing happened: the young man saw the cup reposition itself to the sitting position on it’s own accord and begin to overflow. Soon a small fountain of blood was coming out of the cup and began to flow over the table. It bubbled and ran like some twisted gothic horror movie special effect. He couldn’t keep his eyes off it as he saw the blood begin to cover the table, overflow off the edge and begin to pool on the floor. He ran his fingers over his lips and goatee only to see the blood upon his fingers. He looked down his shirt and saw the blood splattered on his clothing. He felt the sticky ooze of it matt itself on his skin. He felt it stick itself onto his cross.
He looked away from the horrid image and glanced to all that was watching him. He wanted to yell and ask what the hell was going on. If they all saw what he saw. But they only looked back at him with confusion, and some mild amusement, in their eyes. Anger started to build inside this young man and was about to demand who’s idea of a sick idea of a joke this was but when he looked back at his table and his fountain of horror, it was gone. All it showed was his overturned cup of coffee now started to leave a dark puddle on the table. He placed his fingers to his mouth and goatee again but it came back stained this time with nothing but coffee. But the blood taste was still in his mouth. He did his best not to retch as he wiped the coffee off his lips. He looked himself over and saw his clothes not stained with blood as he first felt but with that of the coffee he now saw at the table.
Yet he still tasted blood.
What was going on?
Suddenly, he remembered the strange waitress that served him the very cup of death. Others in the coffee shop began to come toward him to see if he was alright. He even noticed a few patrons beginning to pull out joints thinking as if he was a junky in need of a fix. Before they could come to him, he made a mad dash to the counter and demanded to know where the blonde waitress was for she had much to explain to.
“Look at this place,” said the owner. “Does it look like I have the money to hire a waitress to serve you all? Let alone some cute blonde?” Before the young man could ask another question, he caught a glimpse of the very woman that served him the drink, walk by the store window. It was only a fleeting glance but he knew at once it was her. Like how a hungry man chases after a stole crumb of bread, he ran out of the store and onto the sidewalk.
But the sidewalk was empty.
Not just empty in general of any people. It was as if the entire street decided to die out. No cars, no sounds, no birds, or night activity. The only noise to be heard was the light hum of the street lamps. The young man felt warm along the front of his body and looked down to see that his shirt was once again stained with blood.
I’m loosing my mind, thought the young man.
Then for some odd sense of dread, as if he was being watched, he had the sudden urge to turn around and look up toward the sky. What he say made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up once more. Before him he saw the moon, full and round like any moon would be during the fall season. What made him think he was seeing things was when the moon began to turn blood red before his very eyes. Like the slow spilling of the blood on the table back at the coffee house, he saw the blood drip over the moon’s white glow to turn into a hellish red. The young man stood there and bared witness to this evil omen. Instantly he grabbed for his cross and squeeze it tight in his palm when he heard the light, sinister sound of laughter.
He knew not what to make of all of this at first. The blonde, the feeling of dread, the sleepless nights over two weeks, the elusive nightmares, the blood...
All he knew was that something’s not right in the world. That some sense of evil was beginning to stir. And the only one to notice it this very night was him. He once again thought of what his father had told him once more. About how he must become strong to protect all things he held most dear. Gripping his cross, he looks again to the blood red moon that made itself known only to him. At that moment he sensed a bit of that purpose in life that he was sure he was missing.
That night, Stephen Simmons Corn, faced his destiny....

Prologue

2006-02-11T12:54:00.000-08:00

The story that shall be told has been a story lost between myth and legend. Of demons and gods, of good verses evil,light and darkness, the epic battle of the champion of holiness and the personification of evil. Some call it a story, some history, some romantic fiction. I will let you be the judge...

The powers of good and the powers of evil have always been in a constant struggle for the control of this realm. Since the beginning of time, the battle has raged, light verses dark. Armageddon on a lesser scale if you will. But once every one hundred years, the forces of good suddenly begin to weaken. During this time, the forces of darkness try to gain the upper hand by sending the Dark One's most ruthless and evil creature. A man who sold his soul to the Dark One for immortality, Who pays the price of his choice by drinking the blood of man and enjoying the dark power, he possesses. The personification of evil himself: Count Vlad Tephesh Dracula.

Every coming, Dracula tries to take over the land of Romania with his demonic hordes in hopes of one day to remake this world into his own image. To baptize and to cleanse this world with the flames of chaos and destruction.Many brave men and women have tried to defeat this dark knight at every resurrection. And all of them meet the
same fate as their ancestors, that is all but one.

The Belmont clan, a clan that is old as time itself, has always had a champion of the word and of the superhuman abilities to combat this creature of the underworld. Every time that Belmont has been able to defeat Dracula and stop his mad takeover of Europe. It had all started in 1475, The first was a young woman of the name Sonia Belmont who first confronted the dark prince and destroyed him. This would only be the beginning of a battle that not just threatens all of Europe, but the existence of the Belmont's themselves. After the battle with Dracula, the people for fear of their superhuman and spiritual capabilities exiled Sonia and the Belmont clan from Romania.

In 1492, Dracula arose from his grave to continue his campaign of terror. The people began a desperate search for the Belmonts and were able to find one. His name was Trevor Belmont. Trevor hearing the news of Dracula's return began his trek to Castlevania to rid the world of this evil foe and With the help of Grant DyNasty, Sypha Blenadas and Alucard: Son of Dracula, Trevor was able to stop Dracula like his ancestors before him.

One hundred years pass and in 1592, Dracula came to this mortal plane again. This time he was determined to dominate Europe but also to set a trap for the next Belmont who dares to oppose him. That unfortunate soul is Simon Belmont. Simon performed his duty well and defeated the Count in a fury of whiplashes and spiritual power that could be felt to the ends of the planet. But his victory came with a price. During their epic battle, Dracula wittingly cast a spell on Simon that would cause him to slowly grow ill and die. Simon went to the aid of a town elder only to learn that the only way to lift Dracula's curse was to find the remains of Dracula and to burn them. With the Belmont Bloodline at stake, Simon's Quest to find the remains of Dracula began. Many foes and minions of Dracula tried to stop Simon but in the end, his task came to fruition and the curse was lifted.

When Dracula arose again in 1692, he went as so far as to kidnap the son of a Belmont in hopes to gain an upper hand in this battle. The Belmont of that time was Christopher Belmont. With his son in the hands of Dracula and the fate of Europe at stake, Christopher began his trek to Castlevania despite the fact that it could mean the death of his own son. With the rage of the dark knights treachery and the burning desire to end another era of evil, the descendantof Simon against all odds saved his son from the hands of death and put down the blood-thirsty monster. Dracula went down with hatred in his cold heart for the Belmonts.

As Dracula returned yet again in 1792, he had the defeat from Christopher Belmont still on his mind.A new plan was forming as he watched the movements of the Belmont of that time of his resurrection. His name was Richter Belmont. Richter had a girlfriend name Annette and many other close friends. Friends that he could use to his own ends. His kidnapping plan went into action in the hopes that this time his scheme will work and will cause the downfall of the Belmonts. Dracula unfortunately underestimated Richter for he was the strongest of all in the Belmont bloodline. Even with his strength, Richter was cautious about his journey to Dracula's land. His friends were in danger, too many innocents at risk of dying. Nevertheless, Richter handled the situation delicately and rescued all of his friends before confronting the bane of his clan. The battle of Richter and Dracula was a phenomenon that rocked the realms of light and darkness. Their powers rippling through the fabrics of time and space itself, threatening to destroy our world. Fortunately that fate never came to pass. In the end, Richter stood victorious. Europe was safe once again.

But four years later under the glare of a full moon, Richter mysteriously vanishes and Castlevania rematerializes too early for its time. The Dark priest called Shaft who was responsible for Dracula's resurrection was able to poses Richter for his means of being Lord of Castlevania. With the ultimate vampire hunter as a guard to stop any would be heroes, Shaft prepares to resurrect Dracula. With the balance of power tilted in such a way, it results in the awakening of Alucard: Son of Dracula.

The same Alucard who helped Trevor Belmont in defeating his father and later entering into an eternal sleep in hopes of ending his fathers blood legacy. With the help of Richter's sister-in law Maria Renard, Alucard learns and cures Richter of the madness that claimed his mind.Alucard tells Maria to take Richter out of Castlevania so that he can confront his father and destroy the person that dared to tempt fate. Maria was reluctant at first for she was beginning to have feelings for Alucard but in the end she complied. With the innocent out of harms way, Alucard went out and battle his father one last time.
Little is known about the battles in Castlevania after the two vampire killers departed. All that Richter and Maria ever saw of it was of Castlevania returning to whatever realm it came from and of Alucard leaving the remains unscathed. Richter thanked Alucard for saving him and apologized for the pain he must have felt as Alucard killed his own father.He in return gave the two some wise words to live by and said his farewell. With the sun to his back,
The son of Dracula ran toward the shadows. Maria chasing after him.

Fifty years later, the followers of Shaft continued their practice of Black Magic in hopes of fulfilling their master's work. The result was the return of Castlevania fifty years before its appointed time and the continued dark deed of awakening Dracula from his grave. Richter at this time was now married and could not confront Dracula again for his wife feared for him and for the children he might leave fatherless. Richter's solution was to tell his younger cousin, who was also trained in the art of vampire slaying, of the upcoming evil. His name was Reinhard Schneider . Schneider, though not as strong as Richter, was more than willing to take up the challenge. With the help of Carrie, a young magician, they saw to it that Shaft's minions were stopped and Dracula's resurrection was averted.

With the deaths of Shaft's minions, the spell they used to bring Dracula's home to this day and age could never be used to return it to the realm of its origin. Even the young magician could not even begin to comprehend the dark spell the Shaft's minions had used. So there is where Castlevania will remain till time and the elements reduced it into rubble. Schneider hoped that this was the last time the house of Belmont would fight Dracula. Sadly, he was wrong.

In 1897, during the courses of dark nature, Dracula "naturally" returned to his home in Romania at the crumbling remains of Castlevania. Learning of the changing of the times, Dracula prepared to leave his medieval domain in search of greener pastures and richer blood. With the help of a real estate agency in London, Dracula bought and moved to Carafax Abby and began his plans to take over England. In need of blood, Dracula first took the life of a young neighbor girl by the name of Mistress Lucy and prepared to take the life of the soon to be wed Mina. Before this was done, Dracula was found out by Mina's fiancee, Jonathan Harker. With the help of Dr. Abraham Van Helsing and Jonathan's friend Quincy Morris, they drove Dracula out of England where he retreated to his home in Romania.

When it was later learned that Dracula had kidnapped Mina, the three vampire hunters raced toward Castlevania. The fight to save young Mina was a fierce battle as Jon, Quincy, and Van Helsing battled their way past Dracula's hired thugs. Quincy was mortally wounded during the battle but was able to help Jon Harker in defeating Dracula and saving Mina from the fate worse than death. History would never tell that Quincy Morris was a descendant of Richter Belmont or that a Belmont had stopped Dracula yet again. All that was said is that Jon and Mina were reunited and that Quincy's body was returned to his family back in Texas. It appears that the Belmont Bloodline has finally been severed, or has it?

Quincy had a son of the name of John Morris who learns of his fathers death. Curious on why his father fought a creature of the night, John begins to study his lineage. Here is where he learns of his destiny of becoming a vampire hunter and of his connection to the Belmont's family tree. He was the last of the Belmonts, despite the fact that he is a Morris, the blood of a Belmont flows through his veins. A Belmont that is to one day fight the personification of evil like his father before him and his father before him. From that day forward, John swore that he would be ready to battle the forces of darkness whenever they beckoned to this domain. Little did John realize that the battle he was preparing for was coming real soon.

In 1917, the major conflict called the Great War began in earnest. Evil loves it when people die by the hundreds. Evil loves it even more when someone uses this to their advantage. Evil's emissary this century would be Elizabeth of Balory. A product of an inexperienced witch, she was resurrected to this world with no meaning or purpose at first. But with the help of evil's persuasion, she decides to resurrect her long dead uncle Dracula.

With evil’s way of persuasion, Elizabeth begins to gather the forces of the netherworld to prepare for Dracula's new reign of global terror. A global terror that would pale by comparison to the attrosoties of this ongoing “Great war“. As the countess did this, she also began to collect souls of dead soilders thru out the course of the war. Draula’s reserrection required their souls to fully regenerate him to his powerful status. Within the secret confines of the Countess Elizabeth’s Castle Prospernia, the coming darkness grows stronger in preparation.

But once again, heros emerge to stand tall against the darkness...

After years of training and watchfullness of current events, John Morris steps into the light. With the knowledge of a mysterious lettter that was delivered to him, Morris travels to the remains of Castlevania to find it overrun with demonic hords. The very hords that Elizabeth left behind to defend the master’s lands. Using the legendary weapon that his father used so very long ago, John fought against the evil tide. But one against many is only so much for one person to handle. Morris might’ve died that day if not for the appearance of a lone stranger.

A young Spaniard came across Castlevania as well that night. A young man looking for adventrue and hoping to meet a nosferatu in the old castle. The young man has heard the stories of vampires and had hoped in becomeing a great vampire hunter one day. So after studying all he can about these creatures and burning with the desire and determination to rid them from this world, this young man set out for grand adventure. His name is Eric Lacarde.

Armed with the Alcarde spear, a weapon passed down the generations in his family, a weapon which twisted at the base causes a blossom of blades to erupt from the spearhead, Eric jumped into the fray of battle and helped John defeat this phantom menace to Romania.

After the battle, John explained the story of his bloodline and the neverending battle against evil to Eric. John first feared that Eric would not believe this tall tale but ot his suprise the young Spaniard was not only willing to belive but also volinteered his services to help John in fighting Dracula. Eric’s only request was that John would train him in the art of vampire slaying along the way

A new alliance was formed and the two vampire hunters began thier adventure. Their travels tooking them to places like the sunken city of Atlantis to the recently haunted Leaning Tower of Pisa. John and Eric traveled to Germany of all places to stop Elizabeth’s army in getting better equiped with weapons of this time era. The two even went to the Palace of Versile in France where they learned of Elizabeth of Balory plot in resurrecting Dracula.
Elizabeth tried her best to stop the two would be heros but in the end had inadvertenly lead them to England. From their, John and Eric learned the locatin of Castle Prospernia. Despite it being on the coast of Wales, on a mysterious non-exsisting island, Balory “invited” them in so she and Dracula’s old friend Death, could finish them off.

Balory and Death both failed.

Morris and Lecarde slew the Countess and chased off the spirit of Death, ending their mission of destruction.

But thier deaths were not in vain...

With the use of Balory’s dark life essence, Dracula had attained enough power to be resurrected. His remains, already being in Castle Prospernia, regenerated in the coffin he was layed to rest; in was Dracula reborn into the world. But to his suprise, not only was he no longer in Castlevania or his homeland Romania, a Belmont decendant from Texas and a young Spaniard man were their to greet him.

Unlikely heros, But don’t count them out just yet...

Though Dracula was weak, he put up enough resistance to make the seasoned vampire hunters sweat in their fight to destroy him. Dracula was like a trapped animal. Fighting for his unlife. Again the hatred for the Belmont’s, along with the new found loathing for this Spaniard, burned in his soul like a flaming super nova. But good overcame hate once again. Dracula was defeated.

Morris and Lecarde, from thier vantage point off the coastline, watched Castle Prospernia sink into the English Channel. It not only took the remains of Dracula to the ocean bottom, but it also took away any chance for evil to resurrect Dracula again.

It is now the late 20th century. Morris and Lacarde have passed on but with the changing of the times and beliefs of the people, they were unable to train the next generation in the art of vampire slaying. But what does that matter? Dracula’s remains lay at the bottom of a foreign ocean. With no chance of their return, humanity could finally breathe easier knowing that their children would never have to fear the likes of vampires.
The world changed with the years passing. High mind and alternative thinking came to play. With the increase of modern technology and the evolution of the sciences, the people of earth began to see the stories and legends of demons, werecreatures and vampires nothing more than simple legened and no longer fact. It would seem that the Legend Of Dracula had finally come to an end.

Alas, it was only to start a sinister cycle once again...

Soon.....