FIGHTING EVIL

Okay people, this is my first attempt at a fanfic. I have never played Castlevania and probably never will, 
so if I make things up in the most horrible way, mail me, bring it to me gently and I will try to correct my 
mistakes. O, I’m not English, and my spelling checker doesn’t seem to be working right now, so pardon 
me if my writing sucks. I’m doing the best I can and will do better when it is working again.
This is part one of Fighting Evil. Prepare to see at least 10 more. Enjoy,
Chameleon.
************************************************************************

Fighting Evil

In five years Castlevania had been overgrown with moss. Small trees peeked out of cave-
like openings, grass painted the bleak ground green. The castle did not look like it would 
ever rise again, but nature had taken the place of the evil power of Count Dracula, trying 
to raise an army of flora to beat the shadows.
‘How cynical,’ Maria thought while she climbed over the fallen rocks, ‘that a place that 
has housed so much death can be so fertile.’ Blood is the major fertilizer, Dracula had said 
while he dined amidst the soulless bodies of the men he had placed on stakes, and 
apparently he had been right. The ground was soaked with blood, and Maria would never 
have come back…. had Alucard not been here. Somewhere. She had never seen him after 
their last, cool goodbye at the graveyard, five years ago.
So many things had happened after that. She had married—and divorced within two years. 
Her husband could not live with her quick mind, her strong will, the fact that she was so 
much stronger than he thought a wife should be. She, on her part, had despised him 
because of his old-fashioned ideas and had threatened to leave him when he tried to lock 
her up in the house to break her will. No, marriage had not been a success, especially not 
since she could not forget Alucard.
Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night, arguing with him, trying to tell 
him he should not return to his coffin, that he had the right to live like everybody else, that 
he was HUMAN, and not a monster….but she always woke up, hands balled with 
frustration and fear against her throat, where the huge wolf had nipped her before 
changing into mist and blowing away. He just could not believe he was no danger to her 
and she could still feel anger when she thought about that day, when she had tried to 
convince him to come with her.
“You are a Dhampire, aren’t you, not a vampire. You do not drink blood, you even wear a 
crucifix. Damn it, Alucard, you have killed Dracula! You are not an evil being!”
“I know I killed my father.” He had replied quietly, watching her with those stormy 
tormented eyes. “And I know he was evil. But that doesn’t make me human. Maria, I have 
tried to live as a human, many times, but I failed every single time. I cannot get away from 
Castlevania without losing myself, and I do not want to become what HE has become.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I am his son. His heir.” His lips curved into a cold smile. “I am to take care of my 
heritage, the blood as much as the remains of the castle.”
“But there is no point in staying here.”
“There is no point in leaving either. Where should I go? With you? You don’t know me, 
Maria, no matter what you think. I am as different from your kind as my father was.
No, I will retreat when the sun sets.” The girl—she HAD been a girl then—stamped her 
foot on the ground.
“I don’t want you to leave! You CAN come with me and Richter, we’ll find something to 
do about your tainted blood, we will..”
“I do not want to come.” He sighed softly. “This battle has wearied me. I long to rest 
again and reflect on the things past..”
“You are a liar. Nobody would want to do such a thing.”
“I DO, miss Renard!” he had growled, and the next moment he had been a wolf, throwing 
her down and showing his canines. She was never hurt, but he made his point clearly then. 
Alucard was not a man, and it would be better for the both of them if she forgot hem.
	But she had not. Saving Dracula’s son had become an obsession for her. Even 
when the bliss of marriage had stopped her from her quest, she had the Belmonts look for 
a way to change Alucard’s inborn cursed blood, and when the marriage ended she took up 
the search herself again. And she had found something.

‘Where is that damned tomb.’ she thought irritably. The villagers had given her vague 
directions, but they were frightened, as always, and it was all wrong. She wished she had 
followed him, long ago, if not to stop him, than to know where he was now. A mound. A 
tomb with a stone on top. Well, stones galore, but no tomb at all, and it was getting dark 
as well. Maria considered herself a brave woman, but even she did not like ruined haunted 
castles in the dark. Her husband would have gotten a heart attack if he knew she was 
walking around in this graveyard.
Dumb villagers. Sometimes she just couldn’t understand how they could be so stupid. 
Alucard had saved all their hides, but all they could think about was that he was a half- 
vampire and that they were supposed to hate him. Him, and everybody who was looking 
for him, like her. No wonder she could not find him.
“What are you doing here?” Startled, she spun around, heart throbbing in her throat. Two 
big hands steadied her as she tottered, and she hit at them, without making even a slightly 
difference.
“Let go of me!”
“But of course.” She now recognized the voice, searched for the face, but it was hidden in 
shadows.
“Alucard? O God, you frightened me.”
“What are you doing here. Do you not know it is dangerous to be here at night?”
“Yes, I know, of course, but I had to find you…I’ve been searching all afternoon but I 
couldn’t find your tomb..”
“You are standing on top of it. I felt you presence right through the walls. I almost 
stabbed you.” He moved his arm and she could see the flash of light on steel. “What ARE 
you doing here? I haven’t felt any evil vibes that could signal the return of my father.”
“It’s nothing to do with Dracula this time. Alucard, I have found a way to make you 
human!”

to be continued in F.E.2

Fighting Evil 2

They were sitting on top of Alucard's coffin in the middle of his tomb, Maria talking and 
explaining, the Dhampire listening. The restless light of torches played over his pale 
features and lit his hair like a halo. Maria thought he looked more like an angel than like a 
vampire, but then his father had been a charismatic man too, and look what he had done to 
the world. 
It was all a question of blessing, she told Alucard.
"You don't know how many books I have read, and in how many languages. Most of them 
are in Latin, but unfortunately they had nothing to do with men like you."
"I know. I could have spared you a lot of work; Mother and I studied a lot of 'holy books' 
when I was younger. In none of them stood anything I could use."
"No. Then Richter found a book written in German, and in that book we found exactly 
what I was looking for. It has been done before, the Blessing of vampires, not only by the 
church, but also by these Schattenjägers, templar knights, holy warriors. There's even a 
note about a Belmont once purifying a vampire woman who had saved him from a horrible 
death. You only have to be blessed on holy ground."
"I refuse to believe it is that simple. And besides, I cannot enter churches." Again that 
bitter almost-smile. "One of the few things I inherited from my father."
" It doesn't have to be a church; a chapel will do just as fine." Excitedly she drummed her 
fingers on her lap. "The Belmont estate has a chapel, it can be done right there. And if 
Richter has finished his studies we won't even need a priest! It can be done. Trust me." He 
looked at her, thinking. It was hard to believe her, but yet she was sitting here, and, as she 
had told him, she would not torment him with lies. On the other hand he had been 
betrayed by so many now, that one more should not surprise him. Humanity. How would 
it be to be human, not to fear the calling of the blood or the cruelty he had seen manifested 
in his father? How would it be to live without constantly having to keep himself in check, 
to LIVE his life, instead of dreaming it away in his coffin? Would that creature be anything 
like what he was now?
Maria licked her lips nervously as he unconsciously bit his lip in thought, and said: "You 
do not have to make your decision now, of course. I will be here for a couple of days 
more.."
"Have you come alone? All this way, just to tell me you thought you had a way to cure 
me?" He actually seemed baffled. Maria smiled. 
"Yes, Alucard, I did. You shouldn't make so much of it. I...like you, as you well know."
Yes, he knew. His dreams had been mainly about her, the last five years he had been 
asleep. And if she had the courage to come to him, how could he be less brave than she?
So he nodded his blonde head, took her hand and helped her off the coffin.
"You are right. I am in no position to refuse any help, let alone yours. 
I will accompany you back to the village, it is too dark to go alone, and this is no suitable 
place for a young woman as yourself."
"So you will come with me to the Belmont estate?"
"Yes." Alucard said, and held open the hidden door to his tomb for her to exit.
***
The sun had not yet shown her face when Alucard was already waiting at the road which 
had once led to Castlevania, huddled in his cloak against the cold. Maria had no idea how 
difficult it was to leave this place, the safety of his tomb after so many years of peace. Not 
much of a surprise that, as she wasn't a vampire. He chuckled wryly at his own cowardice. 
He should know better than to follow a girl who was more than 20 times younger than he, 
but here he was, waiting. And there she came, riding a beautiful chestnut horse, her corn-
blonde hair streaming in the wind.
"Good morning!" Maria called, holding the reins and stopping in front of him. Curiously 
she looked him up and down. "Don't you have a horse?" He shook his head.
"I do not need one. I hope you don't mind if I change form?" Her mouth fell open with 
surprise. 'O God, he's coming as a werewolf. How can I speak with him in wolf form?' But 
she regained her senses quickly, smiled and said: "Of course, whatever you like. But you 
will have to become human again when we approach a city."
"Naturally." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, ducked his head and rolled as a wolf 
out of the blackness of his coat. She watched in fascination how he stretched his legs—but 
he WAS enormous in canine form, large enough to ride on—hushed her horse and 
galloped next to him, down the road.

It had taken her nine days to travel from the Belmont estate to Warakiya, by horse, only 
stopping when Shalot was tired and to sleep. Now it was different. Within a day she was 
used to Alucard's way of transport; she even enjoyed looking at him running. It was funny 
how the wolf had the same way of staring down his nose like his human form, and how he 
could be arrogant in such strange things as snarling.
	In cities and towns he became human again, but only long enough to get her safely 
into an inn and join her in eating (though he ate very little due to his different metabolism, 
as he told her). He never rented a room for himself, saying he preferred to sleep outside. 
Maria wondered about this until she saw a big bat hanging upside down in the horse shed 
when she went to saddle her horse. My, but the man was nothing if not original. And she 
suspected he had a great sense of humor behind that beautiful frigid face of his; he only 
tried to keep it hidden. Well, that only made traveling with him more of a challenge; she 
was determined to shake him out of that bleak state of mind.
Maria found out that she had been lucky to make it to Warakiya in one piece; twice they 
saw people who had been robbed, and once a man tried to get a hold of her rains while 
they were traveling through a small, poor town. Of course Alucard made sure the man did 
not succeed in what he was doing, thankfully without killing him, but it scared her. She 
had not seen anything like it on her way up.
"Where people are poor, they use their knives instead of their brains," Alucard said with a 
shrug. "Do not let it bother you, it has been this way since I was small, and it will probably 
not change either. They are fools."
"But why are they so poor? They live in the middle of beautiful rich lands, why don't they 
plant potatoes. Or fruit, or vegetables?"
"These people live of the hunt," he replied, "they do not know what else to do. But game 
is decreasing, like everything does when you hunt it too long and too much, and now they 
have nothing left. Fools, as I said."
"Do you mean that they will just stay here and starve?" He nodded.
"Yes, until the animals return and they can make a living again." He looked up at the sky.
"It will be dark in a few hours. Do you want to stay in this village, or shall we move on for 
a while? I would rather take you to a better town with a proper inn, but if there is no one 
near.."
"Let me consult my map." Maria said. She pointed at a tiny fleck in the green that marked 
the Saradon woods. "This is where we are now. The next town, Ga.. Ganoria? what a 
stupid name, is… here. Well, it IS bigger than this dump, and it can’t be more than three 
more miles. I believe we can make that, don’t you? Shalot had a good rest this afternoon 
when we lunched and she is a healthy horse, so if you think it would be better to move on, 
we can do that.” Alucard nodded. He was speaking more often than he used to, but 
exactly chatty he was definitely not. “Can you run another three miles?” He smiled 
slightly, with a touch of arrogance. 
“Of course I can.” Maria laughed, suppressing the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair; 
sometimes he almost behaved like a teenager instead of a four hundred year old grown 
man. But maybe he WAS nothing more than a teenager. He WAS immortal, after all…..
	As soon as they were out of the sight of the village, the Dhampire turned into a 
wolf again. Maria had spent a good deal of time watching him this way, and had observed 
that the colors of his clothes returned in the fur: he was black but for white ‘socks’ on his 
forepaws, a ring of white around his neck and a patch of moonbeam on the back of his 
head. She wondered how he did it, for no matter how large the wolf was, his human form 
had to be taller and heavier, while as a bat he was so small she could easily let him hang 
from her finger. 
“It’s magic, Maria,” he had said when she asked him, “not science. I cannot explain it. I 
doubt my father could, if you were to ask him. Just… magic. It comes with the blood, I 
suppose.” The blood she would try to bless, when they would get home.
The path was narrow, muddy and beginning to fade with the light, but she trusted Alucard 
to warn her when things turned worse. Flashes of black could be seen between the trees; 
he preferred to walk on the grass, in the shadows so no one would see him. Alucard, how 
could you name your son Alucard? It was insane! No matter how smitten he was with that 
poor burned mother of his, she thought the woman had not been completely right in the 
head. Alucard! Preposterous.
Suddenly she heard a snap, immediately followed by a shrill shriek of pain.
“Alucard!?” Silence. “Alucard!!” she cried again. A soft sound that could be a moan 
echoed between the trees. “ALUCARD! Where are you? Are you all right? Answer me, 
please!” Silence. Maria dismounted quickly, took the reins in one hand and stepped off the 
road. Here under the trees it was much darker already; she could barely make out the 
shapes of bushes and other things ten feet away. “Alucard! Can you hear me? Where are 
you?”
“I am here.” She spun to the right. The sound had been uncharacteristically weak.
“Where?” Silence. “WHERE? Damn it, where are you?”
“Here!” She walked towards the source of his voice, squinting. If she could only see 
better… The next time she called, he was closer, but why wasn’t he coming towards her?
“Alucard?” But then she spotted him, and made a dash for him.
He was human again, half lying, half squatting on the ground, face hidden in a cloud of 
hair. There was blood all over his forearm, soaking the cuffs of his shirt and dripping on 
the moss. 
“Lord God, what’s happened? What…”
“A trap.” He chuckled bitterly with the irony of it. “A wolf trap. Apparently those villagers 
aren’t as foolish as I thought they were. I cannot get it open.” Maria kneeled next to him, 
examining his wrist. It was caught between the nasty iron jaws of the trap. Maybe broken, 
in any case twisted. And then all the blood! She swallowed, the only time she had seen 
someone bleed so badly an artery was hit, and the man had died of infection shortly after. 
“We have to get you out of there before you bleed to death.” He turned to face her and 
she started at the bloodless sight of his features.
“I already tried. I can’t do it by myself. You can try to help me, but if you hurt yourself…”
“For God’s sake! Should I pull on this side?”
“Yes. I will try to lever it open. But please be careful. 
On three.” She nodded nervously and he began: “One…two….now!” She pulled, he 
twisted, the trap opened slightly and he hauled out his hand, collapsing against the foot of 
the tree the thing was connected to. Maria could feel the rush of air as the jaws snapped 
shut not an inch from her fingers. ‘God, that was close.’  
“Let me have a look at that.” He merely looked at her, or maybe through her, he was so 
drained she wondered whether he was still conscious. Gently she took his arm, wincing at 
the blood that gushed over her hands. The artery HAD been severed, and most of the 
smaller veins as well. For a moment she didn’t know what to do, then she unwound one of 
the silken ribbons from her hair and tied it around his bicep. “Can you give me your tie, 
please.” Alucard fumbled with the knot, tugged at the cloth and handed it over. She 
wound it tightly around the horrible wound, but found it soon stained with wetness. “I 
believe you will have to see a doctor. This must be stitched.” God, but he was so PALE. 
“I heal very fast.” He said softly, eyes unfocused with pain. He shivered. Like hell, she 
thought.
“Can you run as a wolf? No, I didn’t think so. Can you change into a bat, so you can 
perch upon my shoulder?”
“I will try.”
“Wait. Your wound…. What about the bandage?”
“It will change with me. Don’t worry, this is nothing compared to… well, whatever I once 
had.”  ‘That may well be so,’ Maria thought doubtfully as she saw him climb waveringly to 
his feet, ‘but I’ve never seen you so damn weak before.’ Within moments he was flapping 
his wings feebly on the ground though, and she hastily picked him up. He felt strangely 
cold for a mammal. She lifted him on her shoulder, where he took a firm grip on her hair, 
snuggling against her neck. ‘I am carrying a vampire in my hair.’ she thought, giggling 
hysterically. She stuffed her hand in her mouth to stifle it.
“Never mind me, Alucard. I’m still sane. Are you comfortable?” The bat squeaked. A few 
minutes later they were riding towards Ganoria. 

To be continued in F.E.3

*************************************************************************************
author’s note: Sorry, the checker still doesn’t work. Please have patience. If you have comments, good or 
bad, DO mail them to me at chameleon@kitty-oosten.demon.nl, and I’ll see what I can do.

Chameleon

Fighting Evil 3

The last of the dusky light had disappeared when Maria entered Ganoria in full speed. Her 
neck and collar were stained red, and while the bat still had a death grip on her hair, she 
was very much afraid he would just fall off and get crushed under the hooves of her horse.
“Excuse me, sir! Where can I find a doctor?” The old man she had addressed looked her 
up and down suspiciously.
“A doctor? We don’t have a doctor, missy. Doctor Verdin is the only one in this district, 
and he lives in Zswasca, by horse half a day north of here. Why are you..”
“Never mind.” The woman interrupted him, “tell me where I can get any medical help at 
all. A midwife will do, or even a barber. Please!” The man spit on the ground. She wanted 
to kick his head in.
“A barber I can give you directions of. See that sign over there, near the inn—all those 
illuminated windows?  Next to it lives old master Francis. He’s a barber, knows something 
of wounds as well.” He sniffed, spit again. “So he should, with all the ears he’s cut off.” 
But Maria had already turned Shalot, thanking him hastily before she dashed off again.

“Alucard.” She carefully plucked the bat out of her hair. “Come, you’ve got to change 
back. We’re in Ganoria.” The tiny head lifted. She could feel his heart beating in her hand, 
very fast, but thankfully regularly. Alucard closed his eyes shut, then began to grow and 
manifested suddenly on his knees in front of her.
“Damn it.” He muttered, reaching out for something to steady him. Transforming always 
made him tired, but now it was near impossible. Why wasn’t he healing faster? Why hadn’t 
he brought some artifact to give him strength? Stupid, stupid.
“Please don’t faint on me, you’re way too heavy for me to carry this way.”
“I have no intentions of fainting.” He snapped, but when he tried to get up he had to grab 
her shoulders to steady himself. Maria put her arm around his waist, ignored his faint 
protests and dragged him out of the shadows of the ally where she had hidden his change 
from the rest of the world.
“Now you let me do the talking. And please stop struggling! Dhampire or not, you’re in 
no condition to scare people off.” She knocked on the door, and again when the man did 
not open it immediately.
“You will get blood all over your dress…”
“Do you really think I care? Besides, I’ve got clean clothes in my saddlebags..Ah!
Good evening, my good man. I need you to have a look at my husband’s arm, if you 
please.” Francis goggled up at Alucard’s waxen face. His eyes were large, bulging out of 
his face like a frog’s. Maria prayed he had enough intelligence to know how to stitch a 
wound as grave as Alucard’s without blocking the blood circulation completely.
“I…” he cleared his throat. “I was just dining…”
“Then you will have to stop doing so until you have finished helping him.” she spoke 
sternly, and pushed him out of her way inside. The man followed sullenly, mumbling under 
his breath. The mumbling stopped as soon as she dropped two silver pieces on the table in 
his working room.
“Quickly, master Francis. You would not want him dying in your house, would you?” 
Inside she was screaming at the horrible little bastard. Why didn’t he hurry up!
“What seems to be the problem?” Master Francis asked slowly, rummaging around in one 
of the cabinets. “A fracture? You are bleeding profusely, sir. You been involved in a 
fight?”
“It’s none of your business.” The Dhampire snarled. Somehow his authority worked a lot 
better than Maria’s, for the little man jumped to collect his stuff. “I need to be stitched. 
Now. If you cannot do it then say so and stop sniveling!” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal 
his blood-soaked wrist, and master Francis whistled between his teeth. Maybe he would be 
more respectful if she slapped him. But the man placed a lot of needles and threads on the 
table, washed his hands and went over into medical mode. The froglike look left his eyes, 
he cracked his fingers loose, instructing Alucard to take off his cloak, and perhaps his 
shirt, oh, maybe the lady would like to wait in his living room?
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Maria said, staring Alucard down. “I’ve seen blood and naked men 
before. I’ve been married, for God’s sake.” Which got her a strange look from the barber. 
He plainly thought her a very strange lady. Shrugging, she helped Alucard out of his upper 
clothes, absently admiring his muscled pale back before she sat back to watch the barber 
stitch the man she had so lightly called husband.
He was shivering, she noticed, probably with shock and pain rather than the cold weather. 
The color of his skin was very fair, almost translucent in this harsh light. It had probably 
never seen the sun. A pity, she mused, he should show that lovely body more often. 
Strange how much smaller he seemed without his coat. Not quite so…imposing, anyway. 
In fact he was very slender, tall, broad at the shoulders but trimming down considerably at 
the waist. 
Master Frances tapped his knuckles on the table, coughing apologetically.
“Excuse me my lady, but could you hold the needle?” 
“I will…”
“Of course.” She grabbed the needle out of Alucard’s unsteady fingers. He glowered at 
her, then thought better of it when Francis dabbed at his wrist with an alcohol dripping 
piece of cloth. His lips thinned to a white line and he closed his eyes tightly shut; for one 
moment Maria thought he WAS going to faint, but he didn’t.
“It’s still bleeding, sir. I don’t know if I can..”
“Just do it!”
“But an infection…”
“Just do it!”
“Sir, the vein is severed. I have to..” Alucard exploded.
“Just stitch the damned thing and SHUT UP!” There was nothing noble about him now. 
Shocked, the man took back his needle, checked the tourniquet on the Dhampire’s upper 
arm and set to stitching.
***

The inn always had a room for people of high standards, even if they were bloody and 
eerily pale and did not seem to own anything but what they were wearing. Maria booked 
two rooms, glad her companion didn’t try to sneak out into the shed. She did not think he 
had the strength to change one more time, not after Francis’s attempts to bandage him.
“You keep shivering,” she said as she accompanied him to his chamber, “are you so cold?”
“Yes.” He answered curtly.
Damned, he hurt. That bloody little frog had messed him up so bad he could hardly stand, 
and he felt so icy and peculiar inside… Maria kept hovering. He wished she would leave--
or maybe he didn’t, it was all rather vague in his head. She radiated heat and some strange 
kind of light, but maybe that was just the lightreflection on her hair and his imagination.
He waited for her to open the door, standing in the hall, sleeping on his feet. The woman 
shook her head.
“Get some rest, if you can.” she said, leading him inside. He nodded. Shed his cloak. Sat 
on the bed, clenching his jaws to keep his teeth from chattering. Cold. He had seldom felt 
so cold in his whole life, and he had lived longer than anybody he knew. She asked him if 
she could help getting off his boots. He did not answer, but she pulled them off anyway 
and went on with the rest of his clothes. He stopped her when she came to his pants, 
afraid he would do something he would regret later. Decency, he mumbled vaguely. She 
mentioned she had been married; the second time this evening. How could she have 
married, she was just a child. Or wasn’t she? 
The bed sheets felt cold against his skin, but Maria covered him with blankets and rubbed 
his back until the shivers eased. 
“You need to eat something.” she said.
“So do you.” He tried to smile. “I am fine, Maria. Tomorrow I’ll be embarrassed about my 
weakness now. My flesh is knitting together already. Have dinner, do as you like..” her 
hand reached out to touch his cheek and a flood of emotions surged in his body: heat, 
cold, desire and pain and longing and a deep, raving lust—the taste of blood filled his 
mouth and senses, but Maria uttered a high pitched exclamation of pain that brought him 
back to himself.
“Alucard..!” His right hand had a crushing grip on her slender wrist, the palm of her hand 
pressed against his mouth. Blood seeped from the two small holes his fangs had made in 
the fleshy part of her hand.
“Noo…” he moaned, even as his mind reveled in the blood. I’ve bitten her BITTEN her 
how could I what is happening to me I WANT her get out leave me give me MORE of it… 
Maria was watching him with those huge green eyes of her, cradling her injured hand 
against her breasts.
“You need it, don’t you.” Her voice was soft, understanding. He recoiled in horror.
“No..” he croaked, “No! I don’t need anything! I don’t want anything.” Except her blood. 
He was aching for it, and it hurt more than his arm and his shame together. “I think you 
had better go before I do something I won’t be able to make up.”
“No.” she just didn’t get it. Her presence suddenly made his skin crawl, his heart ache. She 
was so beautiful, so innocent; he loved her for it and hated her at the same time. “You can 
not ignore what you are. I don’t care, you didn’t hurt me, and if you need the blood you 
should take it.”
“I don’t need the blood and surely not yours.
Please!” he cried when she touched his face with her warm, blooded fingers, “Please leave 
me alone. Please.” Maria sighed sadly.
“As you wish. I will take some food with me on my way back up if you like.” Alucard 
nodded in misery. He did not think he could eat anything at all. The room seemed even 
colder when she was gone.
***

‘Dear Alucard,’ the Succubus said, ‘have you already chosen which woman you will 
sacrifice?’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ she laughed a throaty laugh, caressing his shoulder with 
her wings. No spell or doppelgangers this time; she was there in her own voluptuous 
flesh, standing next to him in the middle of Warakiya.
‘I mean you have to choose. If you hesitate too long I will take matters in my own hands, 
but I cannot promise you will like that.’
‘What women do you mean?’ 
‘Why, Lisa and Maria of course. The most important women in your life, don’t you 
agree?’
‘Yes, but…’
‘Choose now, Alucard.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t call me that.’
‘They are lighting the pyre right now and you are fussing about your name? My, you are 
cold blooded, my dear.”
‘Pyre? Mother? But that cannot be, she died so long ago!’ but now he heard the shouting 
of the crowd, smelled the smoke. ‘Mother!’ He began to run towards the fire where a 
small figure was bound against a stake. ‘MOTHER!’
‘Too late, Alucard Adrian Tepes!’ the Succubus screeched, ‘I made the choice for you!’
He did not listen. Hundreds of people stood between him and the pyre, they didn’t try to 
stop him, but the mass slowed him down. ‘Mother.’ he sobbed, and someone pulled him 
in her arms. Moonbeam hair blew in his face, the smell of roses.
‘I am here, my darling. Don’t be afraid.’ Lisa smiled her lovely pink-mouthed smile, 
hugging him to her breast. ‘They found another witch, a fierce creature of great power. 
We traded places. I am alive!”
‘Alive?’ A feeling of dread came over him. This wasn’t like Lisa, not at all. She would 
have protected another woman with her life instead of letting her burn in her place. And 
a witch? Who was the other ‘witch’? He pulled himself from his mother’s embrace, 
walking slowly to the pyre where the woman hung dead in the middle of the flames. Even 
before he recognized the blonde hair and the young face, he knew it was Maria.

Alucard bolted upright in his bed. An empty wine mug fell on the floor with a dull clunk.
“No!” he gasped, still half asleep, “I never would have chosen her!” It took him some time 
to remember where he was and he tried to relax. Inns were safe. The Succubus was dead, 
like the other creatures of darkness. Maria was probably sleeping. Probably. She would 
not be angry if he checked on her, would she? Just to see she was all right. He wouldn’t 
wake her, and the bloodlust had disappeared when he ate something, so that would be 
fine.
‘Yes, a peek only.’ He whispered to himself, rose, donned his cloak—the shirt was being 
cleaned by the wife of the innkeeper—and tiptoed to Maria’s room. The stupid girl hadn’t 
even locked her door.
Inside it was dark, not so dark as to make him stumble, but too dark to see anything 
clearly. Maria was a vague hump on the bed; he could not hear her breathing. Shuffling a 
little closer, he saw the pale oval of her face, half hidden by the loose curls. Her eyes were 
closed, long lashes dark against her cheek. Unblemished, thank God. Before he knew what 
he was doing he sat next to her, kissing her softly on the forehead. And of course she 
woke immediately.
“I…I’m sorry. I thought you were…I was…I wanted to see if you were all right.” Alucard 
stuttered, feeling incredibly stupid. The woman had the decency to look stricken, although 
he was fairly sure she was only pretending.
“You startled me. Are you feeling better? Your skin is still cold.”
“Better. Yes.” Obviously his wits had sunk into the floor. She had to smile. His hands 
trembled in hers, unsure whether to stay there under her breasts or pulling away or move 
up. Finally.
“Alucard…”
“Call me Adrian.”
“Adrian? Is that your real name?”
“Yes. I should..”
“Would you sleep with me?” His brows lifted.
“Sleep with you?”
“Yes, sleep with me. Just sleep, you understand, nothing more…yet. See, you’re shivering 
again, and since you haven’t warmed up at all…Don’t misunderstand me, Alu-Adrian, I 
am not trying to force you to do anything you don’t want, but…damned.” Her face had 
grown bright red, even in the darkness of the room. “I were always better with animals. 
Maybe if you became a bat again.” she finished lamely. Alucard laughed softly, eyes 
shining with mirth.
“You would squash me. I would love to share your bed, and your warmth, on one 
condition.” His face grew serious again. “If something-anything it all happens, if I do 
something, sleeping or awake, that you don’t want, stop me. I prefer you slapping me full 
in the face to hurting you.” Her smile was radiant, and somehow triumphant. 
“Deal.” The blanket was lifted invitingly. Haven’t the girls changed, these past centuries, 
he thought as he crawled next to her in the narrow bed. The sheer pleasure of her living 
warmth took his breath away. After some wriggling and giggling on Maria’s part they 
were both settled; he stretched out and she curled around his body. 
“Sleep well,” Maria whispered contently, snuggling closer.
“Good night,” Alucard whispered back. Within moments she was sleeping. The Dhampire 
lay awake some time, thinking about ages long past, when Count Vlad Tepes’s castle was 
a place of light and beauty, the Count himself an odd but loving father. When Lisa was still 
alive. There’d been great dancing parties, he remembered, and the women used to swarm 
around him, admiring his pale, androgynous features, hiding behind their fans without 
hiding considerable amounts of cleavage. Maria was totally different than those creatures; 
so much more alive and witty. Strange. She seemed to forget he had been asleep longer 
than he had lived among people and think that he knew everything. The world had 
changed! Women showed their legs—he smiled when he thought of his shocked surprise 
when he first saw Maria in that tiny skirt she used to wear during her search for Richter. 
Knights were gone, damsels in distress carried swords to defend themselves. Vampires 
were being killed by whip.
And Dhampires will become human. He pulled Maria a little bit closer to his chest and fell 
asleep.

Fighting Evil 4 (biology class)

Maria tried to stretch. It didn’t work; she was held firmly against the warm lump in her 
mattress by a heavy weight on her back. 
“O, come on, Michael, let me go.” she muttered sleepily, then opened her eyes quickly, 
suddenly remembering it wasn’t her ex-husband holding her. Alucard was still sleeping, 
which surprised her a bit, as he normally rose before the sun came up. Maybe the blood- 
loss had affected him more than he wanted to admit. Well, at least he was warm now, and 
a good deal harder than the mattress, a lot lumpier as well, but pleasant to lie against 
anyway. His right arm lay protectively around her shoulders; the weight on her back that 
kept her immobile. She smiled. Sweet, proud, innocent Alucard. One could almost forget 
he was not human at all when one looked at him now. The tension had left his face, 
broadening his mouth and relaxing his brow so he seemed much younger. Much more like 
the young man that had kissed her forehead than the serious ageless being telling her to 
send him away if he would try such a natural thing as making love to her. She sighed. Poor 
Alucard. How horrible it must be to fear your own feelings.
Careful not to wake him, she wriggled out of his embrace, sneaked to the closet where her 
last clean dress hung, snatched it away and went to the bathroom to wash herself. When 
she came back, he was sitting in bed, looking a bit confused.
“Good morning!”
“Morning. I...I believe I must apologize to you. I did not mean to stay all night.”
“I’m happy you did.” She tried in vain to stifle a giggle. The man actually blushed.
“You are? But it’s not... proper.” Maria sighed again. Sitting next to him, she said: 
“Alucard, no, sorry, Adrian. Times change. People change. I meant it, when I told you I 
wanted to sleep with you. I wouldn’t tell you to do such a thing if I did not mean it. You 
do not have to apologize for something I asked you to do myself. No, don’t say you’re 
sorry again. Don’t be.
Now, how’s your arm?”
“Much better, thank you.” O, Maria winced, I made him freeze up again. Damn, what did 
I do wrong? He pushed back the blankets, stood up. “I’ll get dressed. Do you think my 
shirt is cleaned already?”
“I’ll have a look. I’ll bring it to you.” He nodded gratefully, looked at her with a hint of 
sadness, then walked soundlessly out of the room.
“Damn it,” Maria said forcefully.

Breakfast began in silence. Both of them were deep in private thoughts, sometimes 
interrupted by fast glances at each other. At last, Maria tapped her fork on the table.
“Do you believe in God?” He did not seem surprised. Perhaps he’d been thinking about 
the same.
“No, I do not. I don’t think a God would let a creature like me or my father exist. I do 
believe in faith, though. The faith in God is what makes churches holy, not the presence of 
God. The power of faith can kill Evil, because people believe in Goodness.” The corners 
of his mouth trembled slightly. “It’s the same with a headache, my mother used to say, if 
you believe strongly enough, it will disappear.” Maria smiled.
“You must have loved her a great deal.”
“I did. I still do. But not as much as my father; he absolutely adored her. Everything 
would have been different if she’d lived longer, died of age instead of burning at the 
stake.”
“Was she the one who called you Alucard?”
“Yesss. She and the villagers” He pulled at the bandage. “She liked to remind me who and 
what my father was. I always said he was just a man, but even then I knew better. I 
wouldn’t have been a shape-shifter if he’d been still an ordinary man when he married my 
mother. When she died, the last of his humanity died, even while her last wish was for him 
to live on and forget her. ‘Don’t hurt the poor, petty humans, dear, they’re not worth the 
trouble’.” His upper lip pulled up in an ugly snarl. “I wish that’d been her last words, and 
that he’d heard them. It would’ve saved so many so much pain.” 
A slight shudder of fear ran through Maria’s body; Alucard’s light eyes were positively 
murderous at the moment. To distract him, she asked if he would like some more bread, 
which he declined gracefully. She arched her eyebrows.
“You didn’t eat a thing.” And suddenly worried, “You are all right, are you?”
“Of course I’m all right. I told you, my metabolism is different than yours. I don’t need 
nearly as much food as you, except when I use a lot of my powers, that is.”
“How do you mean?”
“You want to know?”
“I’d love to. Tell me everything.” Something like a real smile parted his lips. It lit his 
somber face like a lamp and she couldn’t help smiling back. God, he was gorgeous when 
he did that.
“Very well then. Let me see. When you eat something, it goes into your stomach, hustles 
around a bit and in the end the vitamins and chalk and everything your body can use is 
taken into the blood and the rest is waste, right?”
“Yes, something like that, I suppose.”
“A lot of waste.” The smile definitely had something impudent now. “In my case...no, let 
me start with ordinary vampires. When they stop eating ordinary food, a part of their body 
dies, because that part doesn’t need to function anymore. Their bowels, liver, kidneys etc. 
They stop working because there is no waste. Blood can be absorbed completely...”
“But you don’t live on blood.”
“No, but I was born with the body of one who does. When I was a baby, it wasn’t so bad, 
because milk was my only nourishment, but when I grew up, I had a lot of trouble until my 
body accepted fast food. Now, I’m probably the only one who can eat whatever I like 
without producing waste. My body uses everything. It all hustles and absorbs until 
everything in my stomach is digested, and I need to eat again. As I found out when I lay in 
my tomb, the need to consume any kind of nourishment stops completely if my body 
hibernates. It’s like healing, and I guess my regenerative powers as well; the cells 
regenerate so fast I don’t get older when I don’t move about. Because I do age, if I’m not 
sleeping. It’s just that I spent a lot of time doing nothing else. No, then the battle five 
years ago. I remember being famished all the time when I fought the castle to get to my 
father because I had to change all the time, or summon fire..
You see, changing takes an immense lot of energy, especially into mist. You have to let go 
of mass, just like when I become a bat, but you also have to let go of substance, and that is 
so difficult, you can’t imagine.”
“No, I don’t think I can.” Maria said, trying to close her mouth before a fly would fly in. 
He had never spoken so much at one time before.
“I don’t perspire either.” Alucard went on, really coming into it, “or just a little bit, and if I 
do, it’s purely water, no salt. Which is very handy when you spend years in a coffin. I 
would’ve dehydrated in two weeks, if I did. To think of it, I don’t think I have any visible 
pores at all. No. I do have pores, of course, but they’re much smaller than yours. That’s 
why bathing is unnecessary for me; dirt doesn’t stick to my skin. Imagine it would, I 
would be one big fungus upon waking after ten years in my coffin.”
Maria felt a little nauseous. She pushed her plate to the middle of the table.
“How do you know all this? Did you study biology?” Again he fumbled with the bandage. 
If it itched already it was healing very fast indeed.
“No, not me. But we had an ancient librarian who knew everything. I had quite a chat with 
him when I was young. He taught me how to read and write.” The light eyes softened in 
memory. Suddenly Maria felt sorry, and she said so.
“Why? I am the one who destroyed the place, not you. And I doubt the librarian died in 
the ruin, he was too shrewd to die so easily. 
Have you finished? Shall we go then?”
“As you like,” Maria said, and rose to saddle her horse.

************************************************************************


I guess I should rate this one for sex, but I never know how. PG-13? 14? Nobody cares anyway. As always, 
if you have any comments, sent them to chameleon@kitty-oosten.demon.nl


Fighting Evil 5

No matter how fast his flesh knitted together, the damaged wrist-bones had not yet done 
so, and the black wolf limped heavily while he ran. The bandage could be seen in the color 
of his fur as a thin ring of white right above the slightly darker ‘socks’, as it had when he 
was a bat. It did not seem to hinder him much, though, he walked just as easily on three 
paws as on four.
In the next couple of days, Maria could feel the intimacy they had build up so far dissipate 
into cool friendliness, and she didn’t have a clue why. It wasn’t like she didn’t encourage 
him, and she was positive he understood exactly what she was trying to do; he just shut 
curtains behind his eyes and kept silent. He was driving her insane! Did he love her, or 
even feel something for her, or not at all? He never treated her different than honorable, 
but she did not want nobility, she wanted the clear truth—and was too afraid to ask. He 
should, and would NOT think her a trollop or a flirt. She was a woman of high standards, 
he was a Count, they had to behave like that. But sometimes, sometimes, she wished he 
would get shot or injured in some way, only to have him at her mercy again. And then she 
would not let him get away so easily!
As it was, she rode and he ran or, when he was in pain or tired, he hung upside down from 
the collar of her cloak in bat-form; she slept in an inn and he in the shed or outside her 
window—without peeking, she was disgustedly sure. Conversation was a pleasant, 
meaningless thing she would just as well stop if she hadn’t been afraid he would stop 
talking too, and she didn’t want to miss that as well. Men. It was the role of a girl to play 
hard to get, not of the man. But why? What had she done wrong to change his manners so 
drastically? And why did she want him more than ever anyway?

She sat in bed, glancing out of the window at the sky. It promised to be yet another 
beautiful, cold autumn day. The sky was a very delicate hue of gray, lightly clouded, with 
the sun slowly rising in it as a flattened fiery circle, like a hot orange. Alucard’s small, 
triangular body seemed black as it hung against the sky, almost depthless. As she was 
watching, his wings unfolded, he dropped, flapping profusely to break his fall before he 
disappeared into the dawn to change. Maria sighed. Another breakfast. Another day. She 
began to look forward to coming home.
***

“Adrian, can I ask you something?” The wolf pricked his ears up. “Would a pack of 
wolves accept you as one of them, would you stumble on them in this form?” He sighed 
visibly, obviously irritated, but became human within seconds and dusted himself off.
“No, Maria, I do not believe real wolves would accept me. I’m too big, and besides, my 
scent is wrong. Or rather, the lack of it. They wouldn’t be able too identify me. Why do 
you want to know?”
“Just curious. I thought you’d be a good leader.. what do you mean by ‘the lack of 
scent’?”
“I have no scent.” Alucard replied. “I told you the day before yesterday; I don’t perspire 
salt or scent, only water, so I have no smell of my own.” He flashed her a smile. “Why do 
you think people are being surprised by vampires? Because you can’t smell them, although 
you would think they’d stink of blood and death like corpses. We don’t sweat. Dirt 
doesn’t stick to our skins and we can move without sound. More like ghosts than the 
dead, actually.”
“We?” Maria asked quietly. He arched his right eyebrow in a questioning way, then 
understood what she meant and dropped his gaze to the ground. 
‘We vampires’. Again he felt a hint of the blood lust. 
“They.” he corrected himself flatly, and tensed his muscles to change. When his paws hit 
the ground, the first thunderbolt lit the sky.

Lightning was soon followed by thunder, then by a cold, nasty drizzle and finally a 
drenching pour of rain. The day’s first promise had obviously been a lie, Maria thought 
sourly. No town in sight, no tree to seek shelter under, a frightened horse and soaked 
clothes, God it was marvelous. Just marvelous.
Alucard had a face even darker than the sky; brows quivering to keep the water out of his 
eyes. He hated rain altogether, but running in it as a wolf was even worse than just 
walking in it as a human. He was mud from paw to flank, cold, wet, angry with everything 
and anybody, cursing himself and Maria and the weather in an ever ongoing series of low 
growls as he ran. His gloves and boots were water proof, but lost a lot of that function 
when he changed, which meant his hands and feet—paws, now—felt like ice and would 
probably look like that as well. Maybe he could fly.... But that was even worse, and 
exhausting as well. So he ran on, snarling angrily.
“Another mile, I think,” Maria shouted over the roar of the thunder-and-rain, “before we 
come to Aranva. Can you go on for so long?” He barked, jumped over a puddle and 
landed quite painfully on his left front paw. Damn it!, the noble Count shouted, howling 
with frustration with his temporary incapability of speaking. He wanted to kill something! 
Something large and tasty, like a bull, just for the feeling of WINNING for a change. 
Maria’s horse would do fine. And Maria...no. he wouldn’t kill her. He would ravish her. 
Damn the woman with her daring way of baring her body like that! What did she think he 
was, a monk? Did she WANT to be taken? What the HELL did she think she was doing?! 
If he hadn’t liked her so much, he would have ripped that low-cut dress from her lovely 
shoulders days ago, given her what she apparently wanted...but he couldn’t. Not Maria. 
Not anybody. Not while he was still a Dhampire with cursed blood. Though he had to 
confess that it was so hard his whole body was taut, close to snapping with frustration.
	Aranva looked like a painting someone had emptied a bucket of water over, all 
dripping and gray in the somber light.
“I hope it has an inn with a bath.” Maria said. “I do look forward to a nice hot bath and a 
big mug of tea. And you.” She looked at him and laughed. “God, you look even wetter 
that I. Rather like a drowned cat.”
“Thank you for the complement.” Alucard replied dryly, feeling far from dry and not 
amused at all. Mud from head to toe indeed. Then he saw she was shivering, and 
immediately his protective instincts kicked in. She must be wet and cold; her lips were 
bluish, quivering with the chattering of her teeth and her nose was an inelegant red. If she 
didn’t watch out, she’d get ill, and he was not the kind of man that let women in his 
protection catch their death while he was there, so he swallowed his hurt pride and 
slapped the damp horse on the rear.
“I think that building over there is an inn, and by the look of it it’s an expensive one, which 
means it very likely has bathing facilities. Let’s get out of the rain, shall we?” She nodded, 
and followed him, murmuring something about not caring how much it cost and hot baths. 

They were lucky; there was one room left with a bathroom AND a hearth. Maria smiled 
pleased, and signed her name in the guest book. Then she looked at Alucard. The man was 
dripping muddy water on the rugs on the floor. Long hair pasted in heavy tangles against 
his face, bare hands red and fair skin flushed with cold—though he did not shiver now. He 
needed that bath as much as she did, dirt-proof skin or not. She sighed, how could she tell 
him to get his butt in a bath when he just came out of the rain?
“Would you like another room, then, sir?” the landlord asked again, eyeing the growing 
puddle in which the Dhampire stood. Before he could open his mouth, Maria answered for 
him: “No, he’ll be with me for the time being. If he needs another room I will let you 
know. Now, I am in need of a large quantity of hot water, soap and towels. I expect my 
horse to be taken care of?” She didn’t like the small grin he was trying to hide, not at all. 
She was a high born lady, he had no right to laugh at her. Angrily she pressed her flat bag 
of clean-and now damp-clothes against her bosom. She hoped their feet would leave 
permanent marks on the wooden stairs. The man did not deserve better.
	Not much later they were standing in her beautiful, large, warm room, where a 
blazing fire burned in the hearth, casting its cozy light on the downy rug in front of it. An 
open door led to the bathroom, where several steaming buckets were just being emptied in 
a big tub by a chambermaid. Shortly thereafter the girl walked into the room, bobbed her 
head and said the bath could be used as soon as it had cooled down enough. Alucard 
thanked her, pushed a large piece of silver in her hand and sent her away. She went with a 
bright grin, looking back a couple of times, a happy light in her eyes.
“A silver piece? For a bath?” He shrugged, leaking water.
“She is pregnant. She’ll need the money.” he said. “And she reminded me of someone I 
used to know.”
“O.” Maria dropped her coat on a chair and made a gesture for him to do the same. “So 
you see pregnancy as well? Or did you smell it, somehow? Never mind.
I am going to take my bath. You are free to leave if you want, of course, but I would...I 
would like you to stay. And you have to get dry anyway, so...” he smiled faintly.
“I’ll stay, if you like. Maybe I’ll have a soak as well. If I dry up like this I’ll have sand in 
my eyes whenever I flap my wings.”
“Good.” Maria said, and she meant it. She took her nightgown out of the saddlebag, took 
off her necklace, placed her shoes next to the hearth and disappeared into the bathroom, 
where she -thankfully- closed the door.
Alucard shed his cloak, waistcoat and boots as well and tried to sit in front of the fire 
without spoiling the rug. Here he was, waiting for his turn to get wet again. Well, at least 
it was better than Cousin Elizabeth’s blood baths. Disgusting habit, that, especially the 
cleaning of the bath itself later. She was one of the few vampires who DID smell, a strange 
coppery tang he associated with death and misery. Naturally, everything cousin Elizabeth 
did was causing death and misery. He even used to call her Lady Misery, just to irritate 
her, but after the threat that she would use his blood to bathe in he let it off and plainly 
ignored her. Unfortunately enough she was very hard, if not impossible, to ignore. Cousin 
Elizabeth liked to be admired almost as much as she liked spoiling other people’s pleasure, 
and she took great care to make sure she was admired, one way or another. This could be 
by wearing dresses that left so much of her breasts bare, that you just had to look at them 
to make sure they were not hanging out of her bodice altogether. Or by doing her hair up 
in the most insane way with pounds of jewelry, leaving her lovely swan’s neck exposed 
like the stem of a rose, thin and elegant, almost erotic in the way she showed it. A 
remarkable woman, too bad she’d been a bitch beyond believe.
His shirt was already drying, steam made the windows opaque. Memories, memories. 
Strange to think that was all past, forgotten by everybody but him. Would the Blessing 
render him mortal, he wondered. He did not think so, his body would probably stay 
unchanged, but what if it wouldn’t? Would he die? Would he age suddenly? Would he go 
insane? Would he finally be able to make love to Maria without risking her having a cursed 
baby? 
He blushed, firmly pushing those thoughts away. Then the object of his reverie stepped 
amidst a cloud of steam out of the bath room, dressed in a long, white nightgown. Face 
flushed, hair a wet curly mass on her shoulders and small feet bare, she looked like a 
young girl. Lovely.
“Do you want me to ask the maid to fill the bath anew, or will you use the same water?”
“I’ll use this, thank you. It’s only to rinse the mud out of my hair.” He stood, towering 
over her. “Are there any more towels?”
“Yes, two, on the left. There’s a fire in there as well, so you can dry your clothes over 
there, if you wish.” Now why would she smile so impishly? Shaking his head in wonder, 
he closed the door behind his back and began to undress. Unlike his skin, his clothes were 
still stiff with dried mud. He scrubbed them in the half-empty bucket in front of the fire, 
then hung them next to Maria’s socks to dry and lowered himself in the tub. Images of 
babies and wombs popped up in his head and he smiled, thinking he would be the largest 
and muddiest baby that ever floated in a womb.
The water smelled of herbs and Maria’s bath oil. So would he, when he came out. Well, 
that’d be something different for a change.
When he dried himself off, he looked into the tub and grinned at the dark water. He ought 
to be ashamed, but he wasn’t; he felt wonderful. Bathing was definitely something he had 
to do more often, if only for the glowing of his skin. The shirt was as good as dry, and 
nicely warm, the pants were not, but he put them on anyway, for modesty. The only thing 
that irritated him now, was the heavy mass of half-dry hair that refused to cooperate at all, 
hopelessly tangled and fluffy with static energy. Maybe Maria had scissors, so he could cut 
it. 
She was sitting in front of the hearth, combing her hair like a mermaid on the shore.
“Clean already?” she patted the carpet. “Have a seat.”
“Have you got any scissors?”
“Scissors? No, I don’t think so... why?” He tried to comb his fingers through his locks and 
got stuck halfway his shoulder.
“It tangles.” Maria was horrified.
“You’re not talking about cutting...no, Adrian, you can’t! It’s so beautiful. Here, sit down, 
I’ll brush it for you.” He hesitated, and she snapped: “For God’s sake, don’t be so old-
fashioned! I’m not asking you anything indecent.”
“I’m not old-fashioned.” He growled back, then checked himself and sat next to her, 
suddenly sad. “I’m living in another century.” Maria bit her lip. She did not have the right 
to be angry with him because of his upbringing. 
“I’m sorry.” She said, gently turning him around so that she faced his back, “I shouldn’t 
have snapped at you. Now, sit still, tell me if I pull too hard.” 

Her thoughts drifted away as she was untangling, to her childhood, to Michael, to Richter, 
to Annette. She’d believed she loved Michael, or maybe she had really loved him when she 
married him. He was a tall, slender man, fair of complexion, with short blonde hair and a 
small mustache. Annette was delighted with Maria’s choice; it would be good for her wild 
young sister to stop her mooning after that highly unsuitable vampire-kin and settle down 
in marriage. Annette was always sensible, so sensible sometimes Maria wanted to scream 
for a bit of folly. How could Richter with his broad grin and his sharp sense of humour put 
up with such a serious woman? Before she’d met Alucard, Maria had loved her brother in 
law about as much as her sister, maybe more, but the man had never looked at her twice, 
only as a child, never as a woman. Of course, Annette was beautiful. Nobody else had 
such a fine skin, such beautiful golden hair, such deep, dark green eyes. It was a miracle 
Annette had never grown arrogant with so much beauty, but she was to perfect and 
sensible to be arrogant. It was horrible! 
Alucard winced, turned around a bit. 
“Are you angry?” he asked pleasantly. 
“What?” then she saw she had pulled out at least ten hairs with her last irritated stroke, 
“O, I am sorry! No, I was thinking about my sister. You never met her, did you?” he 
shook his head, smiling amusedly.
“No, I never had the honor. Is she a woman that makes you pull out your hair in despair?” 
Maria laughed out loud.
“O heavens, no! It’s just that...she is so...beautiful. Very hard to...well, to compete with. 
She is better in everything than I am. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but sometimes...”
“She can’t be more beautiful than you are, and certainly not as brave.” Alucard said 
seriously. She blushed at the compliment and hurried on with the comb. By the fire light 
his mane shone like the moon; a cape of pale silk.
“You have lovely hair,” Maria remarked, changing the subject. “I used to remember you 
as I saw you on that last day, five years ago, when you were standing amidst the ruins. 
When I called you, you started and spun around, and all that hair wove around you with 
that movement. It was so dramatic! I wanted to let my hair grow, only to be able to sweep 
with it like you did that day.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, I have curls and it was hell to 
comb it out every morning; before it hung halfway my waist, I cut it off in a rage of fury. 
Dramatic enough, but not in the way I wanted it to be.” Alucard laughed quietly.
“Do you know why I let it grow? Because it was too much of a bother to wake and cut it 
off every time. When I woke after that incredibly long sleep when Richter disappeared, I 
had to fight to find my way out of a mountain of hair. What I have now is NOTHING 
compared to that.”
“You didn’t wear it long when you were young? I thought people in your age all had long 
hair.”
“No, not at all. It’s very uncomfortable when you wear a helmet, so knights were mostly 
short cut. Counts, Lords and other people who did not have helmets did wear it long, but 
when I was small I looked like a girl if I had long hair, so I had it short as well.”
“You? Look like a girl?” but she could imagine why, with that smooth face and finely 
chiseled features. Even now, full grown, he had that androgynous appearance she found 
appealing but others would find effeminate. “But I like it, and I think you’re manly enough 
to shut up anybody who thinks different.” This time he laughed out loud, which gave her 
the courage to part his hair in three and weave it into a thick braid. It had been one of her 
silly dreams to do ever since she’d met him and it gave her great satisfaction to do it now.
“There. Combed, braided, almost dry.” 
Her throat suddenly went dry as well. This was the first time they were so close together 
since that morning three days ago, and without tension or confusion. She could actually 
touch him. Her fingers trembled when she did, a light, subtle caress on his shoulder.
“Your shirt is still damp.” She murmured, pushing it up so the lower half of his back was 
exposed. It gleamed whitely in the light. Rather like wax. No visible pores. Alucard had 
gone rigid, but he did not protest and the opportunity was too good to let it pass; she 
reached out, heart beating like mad in her chest, and softly grazed his skin with the tops of 
her fingers.

God, Alucard shrieked inside even as he arched into the caress that seemed to go straight 
to his groin, what is she doing now? I’ve got to stop her before I loose control! But it felt 
so good to be touched and he’d wanted her so much for so long he knew it was way too 
late to scramble back. He made one desperate attempt to regain his senses, but his whole 
body was pulsing with need and her hands only made it worse. 
“Stop it.” He whispered hoarsely, trying to pull back and being betrayed by his own body, 
“I can’t... what are you doing.. you have to stop.. ” She stopped one moment, then her 
hands slid under his shirt around his body, came to rest on his stomach. He literally 
jumped at that. He was so aroused it hurt, furious, half mad with pure lust and the woman 
was teasing him!
“Stop it!” he roared, and pushed her to the ground, hands flat, harmless, away from his 
sensitive flesh. “You’re driving me crazy! I may not be human but I’m just a man and you 
make me crazy!”
“Good!” she shouted back. The woman was insane! Rage made his sight blurry. Maria 
could feel his arms quiver with anger and she quickly added: “Nice you return the favor.” 
Very slowly the fury bled out of his eyes.
“What do you mean.” He demanded, but she looked at her trapped hands and refused to 
answer until he hesitatingly freed them.
“I mean,” she said, “that I love you. We’ve been dancing around each other for days, no, 
for years now, and I have been waiting so long for confirmation I began to doubt you felt 
anything for me at all...” A shy smile curved her lips as she glanced at his obvious 
‘distress’ as Annette would have called it. “Apparently you do.”
Alucard moaned aloud.
“Yes. Yes, I do. I love you, and I want you, but I don’t want to curse..”
“You do, don’t you? Adrian, I don’t care about your family or your curse. I do not think I 
can make it any clearer to you, but if I must, I’ll spell it out for you: I love you.” She 
placed her hands on his chest where his shirt had fallen open, “and if I look like a whore in 
your in your eyes, it’s a shame, but I..” The rest of her words were smothered under 
Alucard’s mouth as he kissed her savagely, too aroused to wait patiently for her to finish.
“Shut up.” he grumbled as he pushed her down again, “do what you want but please shut 
up.”
There followed a frenzy of ripping off each others clothes, the question whether the bed 
wouldn’t be more suitable and the instant denial. The rug would do perfectly. In fact it 
was already doing perfectly, Maria noticed as she tried to gasp for air. All thoughts of a 
shy, cool, celibate man were blown into little pieces. He delved into her mouth like he 
wanted to bring out her tongue by the root, hands roamed over her body to caress every 
sensitive spot she had until she was literally begging him to get on with it, to stop torturing 
her with this avalanche of passion.
It has been so long! Alucard thought hazily, nipping at her lower lip, cupping one breast in 
his right hand and leaning his weight on his left, so long! I don’t want to hurt her, but I 
can’t stop anymore. But that wasn’t a problem, really. Maria was almost throttling him in 
her need to get him inside, so the chance of hurting her was relatively small. At least, he 
thought so, until his wrist gave out and he collapsed on top of her with a yelp of pain.
“Damn!” Maria swore, pushing his heavy bulk to the side, “Have you hurt yourself? Can 
you go on? Roll over, then.”
 And love went on with Maria on top. They made love in a rushed but easy way, trying to 
stretch each moment but unable to slow down.
Heaven... Maria cried as the shudders took over her body and she looked down on 
Alucard’s bared throat as he arched his back in ecstasy, then there was an instant of 
nothingness... and she came down again, panting most unladylike.
The body under hers was still thrumming with its heartbeat, warm, thoroughly relaxed. 
Alucard’s arms circled her waist and he lifted his face up to her.
“Thank you.” he said, and a huge, slow, satisfied smile spread over his face. It was the 
most beautiful smile she had ever seen.
“Yes.” she mouthed, grinning as well, “I guess you’re welcome.” And she covered that 
wonderful mouth with kisses.




Fighting Evil 6

The woman was sleeping, her body soft and warm against his own. Her hair was red, the 
color of flames, her skin was the pure white of ivory. A beautiful woman. A gift, or maybe 
a leftover, from his father.
 ‘A boy of your age,’ the Count had said, ‘is supposed to know how to please a woman. 
You are an adult now, Alucard. Behave like one for a change.’ Well, as long as it didn’t 
include drinking other people’s blood, he had no reason to disobey his father’s wishes, 
and because loving a woman had been one of his own for quite a long time, he had done 
what he was expected to do.
Her name was Sylvia, but he liked to call her Flame, and that always made her smile. He 
found it very pleasurable to have a pet-love who did everything he desired, whenever he 
desired it. Sex was only one thing; he had been lonely these last years of his adolescence 
because of the strange whims of his father. Learning to change his body into mist had 
replaced friends of his own age for a great deal, but still he felt the loss. Until Flame had 
filled the empty space with her lovely body and her wide, sweet mouth and made him 
forget his loneliness. 
At the ridiculous balls in the eerily large ballroom he danced with her, when he was 
moody she made him laugh, when he was miserable she loved him. She was a peasant’s 
daughter, but he was determined to marry her and leave Transylvania to go and live in 
the west, far away from Vlad Tepes and Castlevania.
Of course the Count laughed at that.
‘You want to live among the sheep? How are you planning to live? You can’t do 
anything. You’ve never learned to use your own hands.” He shook his head, amused, 
maybe a little proud as well. ‘Feel free to try, though. I don’t think you’ll be able to 
survive for a very long time on your own, but yes, do try. Be a man.’
So he left. Not as far away as he could wish, but several miles from his home in a small 
village called Toncqs. The Count had given him a little money to start with, to buy a 
house to his liking, and Flame and he settled in a nice little cottage surrounded by pine 
trees.
Blending in was difficult, but he did, because Flame liked to have visitors. He himself 
always felt awkward with other people. What if they found out he was not entirely 
human? What would they do?
Sylvia tried to kiss his fears away, but they kept following him into his dreams, grew out 
to nightmares from which he woke screaming. He dreamed about being burned or 
crucified, hunted like an animal or buried alive. The worst however, was the dream in 
which the raving mob forced Flame out of the house and tore her apart in front of his 
eyes before it crashed down on him.
 He never told her about the dreams, although she kept asking. Be a man, his father had 
said, so he would be a man, and men did not moan about dreams.
They went to parties. They held parties. Intelligent young men talked about interesting 
topics and discussed their ideas with him; he loved it. Flame bloomed like a fresh rose, 
he loved her. Life was hard but livable, until winter came.
At first he liked the snow, and he played in it like a child with the others. Then the cold 
began to creep into his flesh, refused to get out no matter how close he sat to the fire, and 
he lost his appetite, his enthusiasm. 
One day Sylvia asked him to accompany her to one of her friends. He shook his head.
‘N-no, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.’ 
‘Of course I don’t.’ She hesitated, then kneeled in front of him. ‘Are you all right, 
Adrian? You look so pale.’
‘I don’t know.’ He placed his hands on his belly. ‘I feel sick, so empty inside. It’s 
nothing, I’m sure. You shouldn’t worry.’
‘But I do!’ she gently stroked his cheek, ‘But you are freezing! You are ill!’
‘Now don’t be..’
‘How can you be so cold when it’s so hot in here?’ Resolutely she threw away her 
mittens. ‘Come, let’s get you into bed. Please, Adrian, if only for my peace of mind.’ 
Within moments he was lying in bed, her naked body curled around his. Warmth finally 
began to seep through, but the emptiness was still there. Waiting. Growing. Her life 
pulsed against his hart; he hungered for it. He tried to suppress it, replace it with 
passion, but love left him colder than ever and he sobbed with the pain as it spread 
through his body. He wanted her, more than he had her now, and he took her! She 
screamed when her glorious heat bled out of her, but the taste of blood was so powerful 
he did not even hear her. The blood

					ran down his chin as he pulled away from Maria’s 
still form. For a moment he could only gasp for breath while he tried to separate dream 
from reality. Flame’s corps, cold and bloodless. Maria! There were tiny holes in her neck 
under her jaw, where the large vein was visible under the skin. A trickle of blood flowed 
from those wounds, which were already healing. The saliva of vampires healed small 
wounds like these, but blood also flowed slower when the heart stopped working...
His hands trembled as he felt for a pulse. At least she was still warm.. yes, there was a 
strong, regular pulse. He had not killed her. Not yet.
She stirred, blinking sleepily.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I had a dream. Go back to sleep.” The relief must have shown in his face, for 
she frowned, sat up. He took her in his arms and hugged her. “I love you,” he said, forcing 
the last of the blood lust back down where it came from. “Let’s get into the bed, before 
you ruin your back.” Without waiting for her answer, he lifted her and placed her on the 
mattress. Physically, she resembled Sylvia a lot; small round breasts, long legs, thin waist. 
Warm. She made him feel sick.
 “I’ll be back shortly.” He tried to smile, but he was so cold inside, so cold...
“I thought I heard your horse whinny. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve checked on her.” With 
that he fled from the room, changing into a bat as soon as the door closed. The blood lust 
was roaring in his ears; he needed blood desperately, it had never been so bad before. No 
humans. Never again. The horse!
Hastily he flew to the stable. One of the windows was big enough to enter, and he did so. 
The interior smelled of hay and the maddening scent of living blood. The bay did not even 
feel his bite; it chewed on, unhindered. Thick, warm fluid hit the back of his throat. He 
gulped it down, reveling in the taste of it—and just as suddenly as it had risen, the blood 
lust disappeared again. Blood became blood again. Alucard fell into a heap on the floor, 
changed and was horribly, terribly ill.
***
Maria did not remember falling asleep again, but apparently she had, for when she woke it 
was pitch dark outside. Apart from her, the bed was empty. 
“Adrian?” A rustle by the hearth made her turn her head. He was sitting, fully clothed, 
knees pulled up and arms locked around them, in front of the fire. A picture of badly 
hidden misery. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
“No. We must talk, though.” O god, Maria thought, I don’t like this. He went on calmly: 
“I ordered tea and toast, as you wanted to do before things got out of hand.” Out of 
hand?! A smirk broke through the clouds on his face as he continued: “I ordered it about 
ten minutes ago. You’d better get dressed if you want to keep your dignity.” She stared at 
him in horror.
“They’ll be coming in?!”
“Well, I think they will, yes.” The smirk became a smile. The misery was gone like it never 
had been there.
“You,” Maria spit out, jumping to her rumpled nightgown, “are the most horrible man I 
have ever known.”
“I think I hear footsteps on the stairs.” Alucard stated pleasantly. She shrieked and made a 
dash for the bathroom. The horrible man was laughing at her! How could he! But she 
must admit he had a delightful laugh.
The tea was brought in, probably by the same woman he had said was pregnant. Again she 
wondered how he knew; she hadn’t noticed, and she knew an expecting woman when she 
saw one. Maybe he DID smell her condition. The door clicked close again, and she peeked 
into the room.
“Yes, she’s gone. You can come in now.”
“Thank you for your concern about my dignity.” she said down her upturned nose. 
Alucard smiled faintly.
“Sit down, Maria.” She sat down on the famous rug, facing him. “Have something to eat, 
you must be hungry.”
“What is this, the final meal?” Nevertheless she buttered a piece of toast, and covered it 
with jam. She was hungry indeed. “Are you leaving me?” Both his eyebrows shot up into 
his bangs—the braid was rather untidy now.
“No. Why?” she took a bite and waved her free hand: “Never mind. You’re so grave, 
that’s all. I was afraid you’d had enough of me, now you’ve had me, and...”
“I would never do such a thing!” he protested sharply, “I am not an abuser!”
“I know.” she assured him. “Tell me what’s troubling you.” He kept silent for another 
minute, absently stirring his tea with a fork. Then he began: “Are you sure the Blessing 
will work?” It was the last question she had expected, and it took her completely by 
surprise.
“The blessing? I.. yes, I think it’ll work. I wouldn’t have come to get you if I thought it 
wouldn’t work. But why, you’re doing fine, aren’t you?”
“I bit you.” She hastily swallowed the last piece of her toast before she choked on it.
“That was nothing! An accident, not your fault. And you didn’t hurt me at all.”
“Again, when you slept.” Alucard went on quietly. He stuck out his hand and touched her 
neck. She felt a pinch of pain. “There. I can’t help it, but I’m very much afraid I’ll 
seriously injure you. No, listen to me. I have been through this before, with another 
woman I loved, such a long time ago I’d almost forgotten. I swore I wouldn’t hurt her, 
but I did, and when she died I...” he shook his head, a look of pain in his eyes. Strangely 
enough, all Maria felt was a stab of unreasonable jealousy. For God’s sake, the man has 
the right to love other women! This one probably died when my great-grandfather was a 
drooling infant! Fear was the one thing she did not feel, and she said so.
“Then you are a fool.” Alucard snapped. “Vampires are bad enough, but at least they do 
only what you expect them to do. If I can’t trust myself, how can you trust me? Until now, 
you’ve been lucky, next time you probably won’t be. I am dangerous, Maria. And if there 
is no chance for me to conquer this, I would rather dig myself another tomb than stay with 
you and risk your life!” Maria felt a flash of panic.
“No!! You can’t go back! You’re doing great! You won’t harm me, I know. I love you, 
and you said...” 
“I do. But it’d be better for the both of us if I left now, while I still can...”
She had forgotten to do up the top buttons of her gown, he noticed all of a sudden.
“...while I still can leave...”
Her mouth opened a little, showing small, even teeth behind her lips.
“....without tearing...”
Her lips tasted of strawberry-jam. With a start he became aware he couldn’t speak further 
because he was kissing her.
“Tearing what?” Maria asked huskily, “your clothes?” She was not exactly helping. With a 
sigh he undid the rest of the buttons as well, pulling her close.
“No, my heart.”
“Oh.” She let her hands wander up under his shirt to the tiny hard nubs of his nipples, and 
squeezed gently. “Your braid’s hanging in your tea.”
“I couldn’t... care.. less.” he gasped, most unCountlike, and fell flat on his back when 
Maria pushed. She smiled devilishly. 
“My,” she teased, rubbing softly until he was purring like a big cat, “ticklish, aren’t we?”
	
The tea was very cold when they were finally ready to drink it. Fortunately their 
thoughts were elsewhere; nobody cared.
“I think I failed to make my point.” Alucard sighed sadly. Maria grinned from ear to ear.
“Yes, thank goodness. You could try again, though. This way I find all your weak spots in 
a very pleasurable manner.” Suddenly she was serious again.
“Don’t worry, Adrian. Everything will be all right. As long as you can keep yourself from 
killing me, it will be fine. And I am positive you can do that.”
“I hope so.” He said softly, thinking about Flame. “I truly hope so.”



Fighting Evil 7

Maria Renard and Adrian Tepes spent the next two days in the large hotel-room they’d 
rented, listening to the storm outside and making love in front of the hearth. In the end 
they didn’t even bother to clothe themselves anymore. Just as well, Maria contemplated, 
as all her dresses badly needed washing, not to mention Alucard’s mud-stained shirt.
The Dhampire was thawing out completely. He DID have a sense of humour, hidden deep 
under years of unconsciousness, and she spent many hours trying to make him laugh. 
Somehow that was easier when he was naked; then the level of sophistication wasn’t so 
high. Or maybe his clothes made him colder. It did seem that way, she almost didn’t 
recognise him as he was now, so relaxed and light-hearted. It frightened her a bit, and so 
did her own feelings. She’d known she was in love with him. Now she was loving him, no 
more and no less; in fact, she couldn’t imagine living without him anymore. Two days, but 
she was afraid she would never be the same again.
As for Alucard, he had pushed his gloomy thoughts down so deep they could not possibly 
creep up again, and focussed completely on more important things—like eyes and mouth 
and breasts and soft warm skin, large quantities of soft, warm, naked skin, all belonging to 
Maria, of course. She was easy to focus on. But then his thoughts could not please him, 
and Maria definitely could. After so many years of total social isolation each touch sent 
him into thrills of delight, whether that was the intention or not. He was very much afraid 
he was what he always had thought only rabbits and whores could be: insatiable. Thank 
God Maria seemed to feel the same.
As the storm blew over though, the calm he had forced into his mind gradually began to 
disappear. What if he got her pregnant? What if she was going to give birth to a cursed 
bastard like him? He had to stop this affair until he was Blessed, he had to! But he 
couldn’t. He was so perversely in love with the woman he ached for her even when he was 
with her, body and soul, mind and heart. Flame had never been such an obsession, and he 
would have died for her. Maria, he slowly began to understand, was his life.

***

“Tell me again,” Maria said, lazily stroking his chest, “how this changing-thing works.”
“I told you before, I don’t know. It has something to do with...”
“Magic, yes, you told me. Do you have to wear clothes to change?”
“No, I don’t. It’s easier if I do, but it’s not necessary. You see, if I am clothed, I can form 
fur out of that, if I’m naked I have to use my own hair. So in my case it is necessary to 
wear clothes after all.”
“What do you mean?” Alucard smiled. He held up a pluck of wheat-pale hair.
“Have you ever seen a blonde wolf?”
“No! O, great, you’ll be blond as a wolf too? Of course. But that’s wonderful! Can’t you 
change now?”
“Now?!” She batted her eyes at him.
“Please? I’ve never seen a white wolf before. Please?” He shook his head, laughing.
“All right then. But promise me you won’t laugh.” Maria wondered why she would want 
to laugh at him when he changed, and she still did when he was standing in front of her on 
the bed. He was beautiful; a canine creature made of starlight, with pale golden eyes and a 
soft, silky pelt. My lover the vampire, she thought, and on an impulse took his head 
between her hands to kiss him on top of his nose. He did not lick her, but changed again 
and kissed her back.
“You’re wonderful.” she said sincerely, “and I love you. No matter what you are or how 
you look, nothing can change that.”
“Thank you.” he replied. He kissed her again for good measure. Then he felt like doing 
more than kissing and set himself to that with great enthusiasm. Tomorrow they would 
have to go. Today was the last chance to ignore the rest of the world.

***
 
The rest of the journey was without further problems. Alucard still ran, and Maria rode 
Shalot. At night, they slept together unless Alucard felt the biting cold of the blood lust in 
his mid-section. Thankfully, that did not happen very often. He wore his hair plaited all the 
time now, not out of romantic feelings, but because it was so much easier. And maybe, 
just a little, because he liked to be combed and braided.
The closer they came to the Belmont estate, the more nervous he felt. Would it hurt very 
badly? Would Richter succeed? Would he scream, and lose his dignity? Maria tried to 
reassure him, but she understood him so well, and was in fact very frightened herself. She 
knew the Blessing would be agony for him. She also knew there was no other way. There 
was no chance of marriage while he was still a Dhampire, feelings or no.
First things first though, as a famous philosopher had once said. For now it was enough to 
dread Annette’s reaction on his coming into the house. Women with children in their care 
could behave like lions.  
*
When Richter returned from Castlevania five years earlier, a little shaken but still her own, 
darling husband, Annette had shed her gloves and donned her nails. He was not, she had 
told him firmly when they were getting ready for bed, to go vampire hunting ever again. 
No, she did not care about his profession, he could change that. And no, she did not care 
about the poor, endangered people in Warakiya. She did NOT want to live the rest of her 
life a widow. She cared about him and his health, and about children. Yes, he had heard 
that right indeed. So, he could choose, a family or his not-paying career, and if he chose 
for family, she would like to work on that right now. It was not a very difficult choice; 
Vlad was dead anyway, Alucard had taken care of that, and he wanted to have children 
very much. Besides, the way Annette looked at him was more threatening than the Count 
had ever been; he decided to stay for good, lay down the whip, study for Priest and 
become a father.
	When Maria entered the matrimonial state, Annette was round and shining like the 
sun, and one month later she gave birth to a beautiful little boy of six pounds and three 
ounces. The boy was baptised Christian Simon Belmont, which somehow changed into 
Riff as the years went by, learned to walk and talk under the supervision of his loving 
father and was a healthy three-year-old by the time Alucard and Maria stopped in sight of 
the house and lands of the Belmont estate.

“This is it.” Maria said, leaning to one side so she could look the wolf in the eye. “The 
Belmont-dome. Isn’t it lovely?” The wolf nodded gravely. “I think it’d be better if you 
became human now, Adrian. They don’t know we’re coming, and your appearance might 
scare the living daylights out of them.” She laughed softly, but in her mind she could see a 
picture of terrified servants running straight to the nearest church, screaming for holy 
water, fire and guns to kill the werewolf, and suddenly she felt cold. “Or maybe it would 
be best if you waited somewhere near until I can introduce you properly. I don’t want you 
to get hurt because of bad timing.” He flexed his ears in agreement. Normally, he would 
have changed back immediately, but now he seemed to hesitate. Maria noticed his tail was 
held low, the pointed ears flat against his scull. He is frightened! O Maria, you ARE 
stupid! The man’s walking into the hands of the man who has killed his father once, 
whose power can destroy him and whose wife’ll probably screech for his blood—and 
you’re pointing out nicely he could be killed by something else as well! Of course he’s 
frightened! Quickly she dismounted, dropped in front of him on her knees and hugged him 
fiercely. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anybody harm you. Anybody.” At that, his ears 
perked up again, quivering slightly; abruptly he changed, pushed his head against her 
shoulder and began to howl with laughter. God, he’s lost it. she thought. But that couldn’t 
be, could it?
“O, Maria,” Alucard hic-upped, wiping the tears from his face, “You’re so sweet. So very 
sweet indeed.”
“Oh?” The irritation in her voice made his lips quirk.
“I will hand myself over to someone who’s been killing my kin for years to burn the blood 
out of me, and you want to PROTECT me? I have been wondering for days now whether 
I’m not a crazy masochist, doing this for you, and you want to stop...”
“For me?” Her eyes widened with confusion. “What do you mean, for me? You wanted to 
be healed, didn’t you, what have I got to do with that?” His face grew serious again, but a 
tender smile curved his thin lips as he said: “Maria, it has always been for you. You are the 
reason why I want to become human. The only reason.” 

*
“Look, my darling, the mistletoe’s showing her jewellery. Do you see all the red berries?”
Riff, not interested in plants, squirmed in her arms. “Do you see them?”
“Yes. Down, mommy.” She lowered him on the ground, ruffled his curls. The boy skilfully 
dodged and went off in a sprint down the lane. He was of an age that the energy sparked 
off of him, running around all day and eating more than one would think possible for such 
a small person. Richter said he had been just like that when he was a child. She smiled, a 
bit ruefully. However much he tried, it was clear Richter was tired of doing nothing but 
studying and family life. The man thrived on adventure, loved danger and apparently ached 
for some kind of evil power he could protect his family from. Sometimes she could find 
him in the chapel with his whip on his knees and one of his strange books in his hands, 
murmuring the words aloud. Words like a summons. 
“You are not trying to summon your ancestors, are you?” she had once asked, but he had 
closed the book, embraced her and denied he was doing anything of a kind. Something 
was going on, though, and she suspected it had something to do with Maria’s 
disappearance, one month ago. Nothing serious, Richter said, but why didn’t he tell her, 
then?
She pulled her cape a little tighter around her shoulders. Almost winter again. Maybe 
Christmas would settle things down. Yes, Christmas, a nice party with people she liked, 
mistletoe and hot chocolate. Dull, to a lot of people’s mind, but not to her own. After 
Dracula’s castle, all she wanted was peace and quiet. She only wished Richter could 
understand that.
The excited shrieks of her offspring pulled her out of her reverie.
“Mommy! Mommy come quickly!” Excited, not scared. Nevertheless she hurried into the 
direction from where she could hear him. Children would find snakes exciting, after all. 
But it wasn’t a snake.
“Hello, sis!” Maria called cheerfully. Annette stopped, surprised. Then a big smile lit her 
face and she ran to her baby-sister in a whirl of skirts.
“Maria! Where have you been! You look good, do come in! You must be cold—do you 
want to eat something? Tea? Richter will be so glad to see you—but your hands are ice, 
darling, come inside.” Within seconds, Maria was hustled into the living room, propped up 
against pillows, teaed and cookied, hugged and kissed. Richter was called down from his 
study and he kissed her cheek with an innocent: “How was your trip?” She glanced at 
Annette. He shook his head. She shrugged, said: “I have found him. He’s waiting outside, 
near the old pine tree.”
“Who is?” Annette asked warily. “What.... Where did you go, Maria? Who did you find?” 
Maria set down her teacup.
“I’ve been to Transylvania, to Warakiya. Looking for Alucard. Now don’t look so 
horrified, he’s a very nice man..”
“He’s a vampire!”
“No he isn’t! He is NOT a vampire! He’s nothing like his father, nothing at all. Ann, he 
loves me, and I love him, and when he’s Blessed, we’ll...”
“Annette, dearest,” Richter interrupted his sister-in-law, “Alucard is a very honourable 
man. He saved my life, do you remember? Now I finally have the means to pay my dept. 
He want’s to end his bloodline, but as you know Maria loves him, and we’ve been busy 
for years to find a way to do that without ending his life as well. One year ago, we found 
that way.”
“Your studies.” Annette whispered. “So that’s what you’ve been doing. Is that what you 
mean with Blessing him?” 
“Yes. I mean to lock him up in the chapel and purify him. Now I am a priest, I can do that. 
There will be no danger whatsoever, I promise.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He lifted her chin with his fingers, kissed her gently on the 
mouth.
“You would be upset—hush, dear. Even more upset than you are now. Alucard deserves a 
chance, but in your fear of him, you would forget all about that.”
“Yes,” Maria blurted out, “You haven’t even seen him, and you already think he’s a 
monster. Shall I get him, Richter? You’ll see you like him.” Richter waved her away, and 
she darted out the room.
	Annette lifted her eyes to his face. She was almost in tears with anger.
“Is that how you see me?” she asked, “An ungrateful coward? Do you think so little of 
me?”   
“Ann, I think the world of you.”
“Yet you thought I would panic.”
“I thought I should not worry you with things that might not even happen. We did not 
know whether we could ever find Alucard back, and whether he would agree. Believe me, 
darling, I did not tell you about all this solely to spare you unnecessary unease.” He did 
feel ashamed though. She was right, he should have told her; it was just that he was sure 
she would have reacted with hysterics. That she didn’t now, only made it worse. Still 
thinking the worst of people eh, Richter, old pal. You’ll lose her, if you don’t watch out.
“I’m sorry.” He said tamely. “I keep underestimating you.”
“Yes, you do.” A small smile crept up her face, “you keep thinking I’m a young girl who 
needs to be rescued. I’m not. I won’t say I like the idea of one of Dracula’s ilk in my 
house, but if you think you can un-curse him... as you said, he deserves a chance. And he 
did save your life.” She sighed. “Tell me what he looks like. Is he like.. like his father?” 
The sound of footsteps made her turn around before her husband could reply, and she 
stood eye in eye with the son of the man who had imprisoned her, less than ten years ago.
Her first thought was: it’s him, he’s disguised himself, but it’s him in person, but 
immediately she knew he was not. He was shorter than the count, slighter, younger. 
Where Vlad’s complexion had been a pasty white he was only pale, and his features were 
smooth, beautiful rather than handsome, strangely innocent, while the Count’s had had a 
strong air of perpetual malevolence. Everything that had been hard in Dracula was slightly 
softer in his son; golden eyes instead of silver, blonde hair instead of white, reserved 
instead of brooding. Only his mouth was the same: thin lips, slightly upturned corners that 
gave his face just a hint of mockery. The smile of a cat who’s old enough to be wise, but 
not too old to loose the fine sense of cruelty all cats are born with.
All in all though, it wasn’t an unpleasant looking man.
She, in his eyes, was probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Maria had been 
right, nobody could overdo this woman in any physical aspect. She reminded him of Lisa, 
not because she resembled his mother so much, but because she was so frail, so unearthly 
beautiful. So very married.
To Annette’s surprise, the Dhampire blushed and cast his eyes down. He was shy! A bit of 
the tension left her.
“Alucard.” Richter exclaimed, grasping the man’s hand and shaking it heartily. “Welcome 
to my home. May I introduce you to my wife, Annette?” she held out her hand, which he 
brought to his lips in an ancient, but very elegant manner.
“My pleasure,” he murmured. “But I do not call myself Alucard anymore. I have taken use 
of my first name again.” He bowed slightly, thrilling Maria and Annette. “Please call me 
Adrian.”
“Adrian?” He smiled, something Richter had never seen him do before. The girl has 
changed him indeed! Alucard, smiling! Miracles do exist after all.
“Yes; Adrian.”
Annette motioned him to sit and pulled her sister next to her. She fidgeted with nervous 
curiosity.
“As you are here, would you like to join us for dinner, Adrian?” It was a totally different 
question she was really asking, and Alucard laughed softly as he understood.
“I would like to, very much. I do not drink blood, Mrs Belmont. At least, I try not to. It 
makes me most terribly ill.” Annette relaxed completely. He did not drink blood. Thank 
goodness. She couldn’t hold in a deep, relieved sigh. Now it was her time to blush.
“In that case, would you like a cup of tea?” she asked, hiding her red face behind the 
teapot. 
“Thank you.” Maria’s green eyes twinkled with mirth. At least she would marry a man 
who knew how to vamp her relatives.
*
After the ‘tea party’ Alucard grew restless again. The sooner this Blessing took place, the 
better. How were they going to do it anyway, and where was the chapel he had to enter? 
He asked Richter as soon as he could without being impolite, and the ex-Vampire hunter 
took him out into the garden to speak to him in private.
“I figured you wanted to know what you’re committing yourself to. Let me explain. I 
presume Maria told you about the Schattenjäger book?”
“Yes, she did.” 
“Good. Well, the principle is quite simple; your blood-cells are unholy, cursed, as you say, 
and to purify them, you must bleed and replace your blood with holy water.”
“Simple indeed.” Alucard snorted. It was a strange sound, rather like a dog growling. 
Richter eyed him sideways. “How do I know it won’t kill me?”
“You don’t. I’m sorry A-Adrian, but I can’t give you any proof but what’s in the book, 
and that’s centuries old.”
“As I am.” He sighed. “It’s not as if I have a choice; as far as I know, this is the first time 
there’s a chance of becoming human. Yes, I have to become human. I can’t marry Maria 
the way I am now.”
“So you do want to marry her?”
“Yes.” He frowned a little. “I guess it’s a strange reason to propose to someone, but... she 
makes me want to live.” Richter nodded vigorously, though, understanding completely 
what he meant.
“I know, it’s the same with Annette. You know, I always compare her with a glass of 
clear, cool water; treat her too rough and she’ll shatter, caress her and she’ll sing, move 
her and the water will whirl, hold her tightly and she’ll warm up to you, but she’ll never 
lose the freshness she had when you first saw her.” O great, you should have become a 
poet. The man will think you’re crazy! But Alucard looked at him with a certain awe.
“You’ve understood it. I wouldn’t call Maria a glass, though. She’s more like a waterfall.”
The ex-Vampire hunter laughed. They walked in silence for a while, thinking. Then 
Richter pointed to a building half overgrown with ivy.
“There’s the chapel. Would you like to see it, before we begin with the Blessing?” He 
agreed, and followed the other man down to the doors. The first time he had tried to walk 
into a church, he had ended flat on his back, wondering who had smashed his skull with a 
hammer. When he entered the chapel, it did not feel like a hammer but like a chisel driven 
into his head, right between his eyes. Bad, he thought, staggering, but bearable. Breathing 
deeply he walked to the posterior, where two cuffs were fastened to long chains, on their 
part fastened to the wall.
“I thought it would be safer for both of us if you were bound.” Richter shifted uneasily. 
“But if you’d rather...”
“No, I think that is a very good idea.
Listen, I don’t know what you think about this, maybe you see it as some kind of.... test. 
For me, it’s dead serious. I do not know how my body will react to this Blessing. I might 
lose my mind, or try to attack you. You are not my enemy, and I hope you do not see me 
as yours, but you must NEVER forget what I am. It would not do if I killed you because 
you thought I could control myself, and I couldn’t.”
“Believe me, it’s dead serious for me too.” Richter said. “Do you think I would risk both 
our lives for something I do not believe in? Not to mention the fact that Maria will kill me 
if something goes wrong. Try the chains, you’ll find them strong enough.
There are a few more things I have to check, but tomorrow I’ll be ready. When do you 
want...”
“As soon as possible. The day after tomorrow.”
“Very well.” Richter opened the door again, leading the way out. “The day after 
tomorrow it will be.” They returned to the house.



Fighting Evil 8

Dinner, dreaded so much by Maria, turned out to be quite cozy. The only awkward 
moment was when Riff suspiciously touched Alucard’s braid and asked why he tried to 
look like a girl, the word ‘girl’ spit out like it was an insult. Annette held her breath, too 
afraid he would smash the little boy’s head to call on him. Richter suffered of no such 
fears. 
“Don’t be rude.” He said, smacking his son’s bottom with a hard, callused hand. 
“Apologise.” Riff gave a yell, but did not waver.
“I never saw a man with so long hair.”
“That’s because I’m not a...”
“He didn’t have the time to cut it.” Maria interrupted. The boy stared her down with a full 
Belmont don’t-lie-to-me-glare. Amazing how he looked like Richter, snub nose and all. 
She raised her hands: “Truly. He has been sleeping a very long time and when you sleep, 
you can’t cut your hair, can you?” Riff suckled his lower lip, visibly wondering whether 
she was speaking the truth or lying.
“Did you?” he finally asked. Alucard nodded. “Why would you want to sleep so long 
then? Are you ill? You do look sick.”
“Riff! Behave yourself! Come sit and eat.”
“I won’t bite him.” He turned to the child, leaning his chin on his hands. “You could say I 
am ill, yes. I bet you won’t sleep unless you are forced, isn’t it. Yes, I remember I hated 
having to go to bed as well when I was young. But when you grow older, you will come 
to like sleeping, just like I did. And I came to like it so much, I once fell asleep and didn’t 
wake up until your aunt kissed me awake again, much later.”
“You really did?”
“O yes, I really did.”
“And she kissed you awake? Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?”
“Well, yes...” Alucard stuttered, being unfamiliar with the story of the Sleeping Beauty, 
“But I was the one sleeping, so I couldn’t kiss her.” That made sense. Riff looked at him 
admiringly. 
“And.... how long did you sleep?” The Dhampire waved nonchalantly. 
“A couple of years.”
“Years!?” Admiration became adoration. Annette had to remind him to eat his soup. “And 
you didn’t have to cut your hair?” That seemed to interest him more than anything.
“No. Nobody was there to do it, and I didn’t think it necessary, so it just kept growing.”
“Ohhh.” He swallowed a couple of spoonfuls, deep in thought, and asked: “And this 
sickness, is that because you sleep so long?”
“No Riff, it is the sleeping itself that causes me trouble..”
“Sorry?”
“He doesn’t understand you.” Richter explained. “He means that he has to be woken for 
good this time, Riff. Otherwise he will fall asleep again, and he might never wake up 
again.”
“O. But you are awake now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. But your father can help me stay that way much longer than I can by myself.”
He stopped when a servant took away the soup and replaced it with another dish, then, as 
she was gone, leaned over and whispered: “But that’s a secret. You shouldn’t tell anybody 
I am here.”
“No...?” He looked at his father for confirmation. Richter nodded, smiling a little. The man 
had changed.
“Yes, it is a very big secret. You must keep it completely to yourself.”
“It’s a big honour, too.” Maria added. “Nobody but we know of it; don’t tell anybody.” 
Riff’s eyes had grown the size of saucers. 
“Sure!” he chirped. Alucard had made yet another friend. 

The rest of the evening was peaceful and quiet and at ten thirty it was naturally understood 
that Maria and Alucard would stay at the Belmont estate, no, they were quite welcome 
and should stay here for the night and had they clean clothes for bed? She could lend 
Maria one of her night gowns while Richter...”
“If you wouldn’t mind I would like to fly around for a bit first.” Alucard mumbled, which 
shut her up immediately.
“You what?” 
“I...I fly. There is a chance I will never be able to do that again after the Blessing, so...”
“He can change into a bat.” Maria said with pride. Annette carefully closed her mouth.
“Oh. Well, I suppose... of course you can, but... the servants..”
“I will be very careful, I promise.”
“May I ask, then, where will you sleep?” Richter tried in vain to stifle a laugh as he 
imagined Alucard hanging upside down a lamp, full height, but the man said he would be 
grateful if he could get a bed like Maria—a bed like Maria, ha! In bed with Maria was 
more likely—as he did not think he would remain a bat all night. Annette agreed 
immediately. She both showed them their rooms, chatted a little longer with her sister and 
went to bed herself.

“Adrian!” Maria whispered into the night. “Where are you? I would like to talk with you. 
Can you hear me?” She listened for a while, shivering in her thin gown. Finally there was 
the fluttering of wings, followed by the bat itself when it flew into her room. She closed 
the window.
“Did you have a pleasant flight?” The creature gazed up at her, panting. He was ice-cold 
when she picked him up, but he didn’t seem to care. “You handle the cold quite well, 
don’t you. Of course you’re clothed now, and I’m barely, but if I were as frozen as you 
feel, I’d be chattering my teeth out.” The small body stretched out under her caressing 
finger, eyes closing with bliss, wing-hands tensing and relaxing like a cat’s. “It’s a pity you 
can’t change into a cat,” Maria mused, “You remind me of one every time you are 
content. I think you would make a very handsome cat.” Abruptly he changed back, fell off 
her lap and landed on the floor, grinning helplessly.
“God, you do love animals, don’t you Maria? A handsome cat?”
“Well, you’re a handsome wolf as well, so why wouldn’t you be a handsome cat?” He 
shook his head, amazed.
“You are the first woman who thinks me attractive in animal-form. Fascinating I can 
understand, handsome no. Not that I don’t like it, mind, it just surprises me.
Now, you wanted to speak to me?”
“My, direct, aren’t we? Come sit next to me.” Alucard looked doubtful. She smiled evilly, 
guessing why he wouldn’t want to sit in reach of her hands. “Change, if you feel more 
secure that way.” She made room for the wolf, keeping her hands to herself. Teasing she 
could always do later. “I know it’s not ladylike to ask, but... are you going to marry me? I 
wouldn’t ask anyone else, but since you have the tendency to appear and disappear at will, 
I wondered...”
The wolf nodded.
“You are?”
The wolf became Alucard once more.
“Maria, if I had a ring.. but I do, not a ring exactly, but something that is almost the 
same.” He unfastened his shirt at the top, reached inside and fished out the cross he always 
carried. “There,” he said, placing the necklace around her neck, “my betrothal. I will not 
ask you to marry me until I’m safely un-cursed, but hereby I promise you I will always 
love you, whatever will happen, and that I will protect you and hold you in honour 
forever. I would pray if I could, but I’m afraid I get an incredible headache from praying, 
so...” smiling shyly, he leaned forward and kissed her on her cheeks, her forehead, her 
mouth. Maria positively beamed. How much sweeter was this unofficial betrothal than 
Michael’s kneeled-spoken words of commitment!
“I love you,” she said, and never mind the cliché, she meant it with all her heart.

***

The next morning Maria woke alone. The sun formed a pale ball in the equally pale sky, its 
warmth melting the ice-flowers on her window. A beautiful morning, the last morning 
Alucard would see as Alucard, son of Dracula. Where would he be?
When she came downstairs she found Annette humming a tune while she read a book.
“You seem cheerful?”
“Yes. Most amiable, your mister Tepes, I must say. Riff has his heart full of him and he 
has a very pleasant way of treating him.”
“Yes... Do you know where he is?”
“Somewhere in the garden with Riff.” She laid her book down. “Give him some time 
alone, Maria. He needs it. I believe he is more nervous of this Blessing than he wants to 
admit.”
“I know.” She sighed and dropped in the nearest chair available. “Where’s Richter? 
Preparing his stuff?”
“I think so, I haven’t seen him all morning.” She fingered the pages of the book, cheerful 
spirits gone. Alucard wasn’t the only one dreading the Blessing. Yesterday she had heard 
her husband out, and, although he had tried to hide it, she had understood that the 
Dhampire wasn’t the only one who could be harmed with this. There was a certain danger 
for the Blesser as well, being the one who battled the curse with his words and actions. 
Exactly what danger she didn’t know, probably not lethal anyway, but it made her skin 
crawl. If Alucard wouldn’t have been such a nice man, or her brother-in-law to-be, she 
would never have agreed with the procedures. As it was, she felt a sick coldness in her 
stomach and a deep pity for her sister as well as for her lover. There was, however, 
nothing to be done for the both of them. Alucard had to be purified. He wanted to be. 
Who was she to interfere if Richter wanted to do the job?

Riff Belmont gazed up at the man sitting roughly four feet higher than he did. The 
branches squeaked under his weight, but he sat there completely at ease, halfway Riff’s 
climbing tree, about ten feet above the ground.
“You often climb in trees?”
“All the time.” Alucard replied. “Aren’t you a bit small to do so as well?” Riff stretched 
himself to his full two-and-a-half feet.
“I’m not small! And dad’s with me most of the time.” Actually he was forbidden to climb 
when he was alone, but he wasn’t alone now, was he? Unfortunately the man, like all 
adults, immediately knew he was not speaking the full truth. In no time he was standing on 
the ground again, looking cross-eyed at the finger that waved in front of his nose. 
“I see. You want your dad to be angry with me when you fall down and break your arm? I 
should’ve known better than listen to you.” The child frowned, thin eyebrows meeting in 
the middle of his forehead. He looked like Richter a lot; same blue eyes, same stubborn 
look, same power. When he lifted Riff on his branch, the Belmont fizzle of strength ran 
through his arm. At least the world won’t be without a Vampire-hunter when things go 
wrong, he thought, instantly regretting that thought for it brought back unpleasant feelings 
in his chest. God, he was scared. Tomorrow. Tomorrow his life would change forever.
He looked at the boy and swallowed. No knowledge of pain or suffering. So blissfully 
ignorant of curses. I should hate you, but all I can feel is love, tenderness. To have a 
child of my own...Maria with child...if that could only be possible.
“Shall we go back?”
“Are you going to ‘tray me?” Riff shot back warily. To his surprise the man lowered 
himself on to his knees so they were face to face.
“I never betray people.” he said, “Never. Friends are too valuable to betray.” A sunny 
smile rounded the little boy’s face. The adult called him friend!
“Me neither.” He stuck out his hand, offering friendship. Alucard took it. It disappeared in 
his huge palm. That moment he would have died for this child. As I did for Flame.
“Let’s go home.” he whispered, and tried very hard to blink away his tears.



Fighting Evil 9 (the Blessing)

‘Do you believe in God, Richter Belmont?’
‘Of course I do. Don’t you?’
‘I... have my doubts. Do you think it will influence your actions?’
‘No. No matter what you think, I have faith it will work out. And you will see, it will.’
‘How long will this take?’
‘Everything together? About 30 hours, maybe a little less.’
‘More than a day...’
‘One day until you are human. It has been done before, my friend, and it will be done 
again today.’

It was still dark, very early in the morning. Snowflakes turned to water in their faces.
The two men were standing in front of the chapel, Richter in his Hunting clothes, the 
Schattenjäger book under one arm and his whip under the other, Alucard in his shirt and 
pants, barefoot, unarmed. He noticed the cold in a detached kind of way, did not care at 
all, and waited for Richter to open the door.
“One last thing before we start,” the Vampire hunter said, “I want you to touch the whip. 
There is no other object as sanctified as this, and if there is one way to see if we make 
progress...”
Alucard grabbed the outer end of the whip, let out an involuntary scream and reeled back, 
clutching his arm. It felt as if his wrist and hand bones exploded, God father, how could 
you bear the pain of going through this so many times! Very slowly the agony lessened, 
and he glanced at the strange weapon with sardonic interest.
“Apparently it doesn’t like me.”
“It doesn’t like creatures of the dark. I’m sorry I caused you hurt.”
“You will cause me more.” Richter sighed. He did not like this, not at all.
“I am afraid so. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Are you convinced it will work?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s begin then.”

The chapel was quite small, about 14 by 22 feet. Fires under the floor kept the chill at bay, 
painted glass windows put the space in a warm light.
Alucard watched as Richter fastened the leather cuffs around his wrists, gripped by a 
morbid fascination. The Faith housing in this place throbbed in his head, made his sight 
blurry. He was standing on a rug, moved there only for his convenience, testing his reach. 
The chains left him enough room to stand, sit and even lie down if he wanted to, but kept 
him safely away from Richter. Good.
He held his hands out for the first letting and hissed when the knife cut through his flesh. 
A trickle of blood ran down his arm, dripped on the floor and was gone. Let’s begin.
Unholiness must be made holy like a church is made holy; bless the fundamentals to sanctify the rest.
	The moment Richter began to read the Blessing aloud, everything changed.
“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et spiritus Sancti, Intriobo altare Dei...” Sticks and stones can 
break my bones, but words will never hurt me. When he was young, Alucard had cursed 
that proverb; if there was one thing that could wound someone, it was being called names 
or shouted at by other children. Now he was shocked to find that words could cause him 
physical pain as well. There was a certain rhythm in the invocation and that rhythm was 
beating between his temples—insane, it was only a prayer, he was not so evil, he was...he 
was...his knees couldn’t hold him up anymore. Shock painted his face when he sat down 
heavily; Richter looked up from his reading, lips tight, eyes dark with sympathy. He did 
not stop for a minute though, went on unwavering: “Asperges me Domine, hyssopo, et 
mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor...”
“O God..” Alucard whimpered, covering his face with his hands. The cadence began to 
take over his heart beat: “Misere mei, Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam. Gloria 
Patri, er Filio, et Spiritui Sancto, Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula 
saeculorum. Asperges me, Domine, hyssopo, et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem 
dealbabor.” pound-skip-pound-skip-pound, red sparks before his closed eyelids. He felt 
something warm spread in the cavities of nose, mouth and throat, and when he leaned 
forward, blood spluttered on the tiles. For a moment he forgot all about the Blessing, 
stared unbelievingly at the liquid. Swallowing, he tasted salt; more blood bubbled on his 
lips as he opened his mouth. I’m broken... Richter went on praying. Latin was replaced by 
some kind of ancient German, holy words, holy pain. “Bewahre deinen Fuß, Vampir, wenn 
du zum Hause Gottes gehst, und komm, daß du hörest. Lasse sich der Seele reinigen, lebe 
wieder, es wird deine letzte Chance sein...” 

*
Hours passed, filled with sanctifying sentences. Alucard lay in a sorry heap on the ground. 
His face was streaked with dried blood and wet with sweat.
“An der Stätte des Rechts war Gottlosigkeit, und an der Stätte der Gerechtigkeit war Frevel. 
Doch Gott wird richten den Gerechten und den Gottlosen; denn alles Vorhaben und alles Tun 
hat seine Zeit.” Great, Richter thought, there’s a time for family life and a time for 
fighting evil. That really makes me feel better. The only problem is there’s no evil in this 
man to fight, only his blood. What does this bloody book know about it anyway? It was 
too late to turn back now though, so he read on, pushing back his thoughts: “Es geschieht 
wegen den Vampiren, damit Gott sie prüfe und sie sehen, daß sie, im tiefster Seele, selber sind 
wie die Menschenkinder. Denn es geht den Untoten wie den Menschen: wenn er stirbt, verliert er 
seine Seele, wenn ein Sondar stirbt, verliert er seine Seele. Und wie Sondare können die Vampire 
gerettet  werden...”
Finally God’s understanding. How wonderful. Alucard grimaced in silence. What was it 
about Germans that they always seemed to get the better part of deals with the Almighty?

*
“Let’s have a walk in the garden.” Annette proposed. Maria stopped biting her nails. It 
was twelve thirty in the afternoon and she’d been awake for three horrible hours. It would 
have been more if she hadn’t worn herself out worrying past night. But three hours was 
bad enough, knowing Alucard was suffering in this self-imposed torture, trusting her in so 
far to risk his life. She had began to doubt the Blessing. She had been sure it would work, 
as it stood in the book, but now.... he wasn’t an ordinary vampire. He was a halfling. What 
if it went wrong?
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” It would give her a chance of taking a look at the chapel. At 
Alucard. She followed her sister to the hall to don her cloak and a shawl, then opened the 
door and stepped into the snow.
For a moment she forgot her concern because of the pure white beauty of the 
surroundings, all soft glittering and picturesque snow laden trees. It was very cold, but 
clear, perfect weather for sleighing or snowball-fighting. A small bird flew up from one of 
the trees and landed on her shoulder, chirping. She smiled. So did Annette.
“You still have this way with animals, haven’t you? No wonder...” abruptly she fell silent, 
but the rest of her words hung still in the air: ...the Dhampire, werewolf and bat, fell for 
you. She sighed, patting her baby sister on the shoulder. “He will be fine, sweetest. You 
mustn’t be so uneasy. You’ll see everything will turn out just fine.” Maria smiled, 
caressing the bird with her cold fingers. But she said nothing, and her eyes were darker 
than the deep of the sea.
* 
Desperation, Alucard had always thought, was worse to endure than pain. Now he wasn’t 
so sure anymore. The agony made him desperate. He was hurting so much he could hardly 
keep his mouth shut. The bloodlust roared in his ears; his stomach seemed a gaping hole, 
not just empty but raw, bloody. Healing, he needed healing, and only the blood could heal 
him. The smell of Richter’s living heartbeat was driving him crazy; who cared about 
dignity any longer, he wanted blood, he NEEDED it, and he would GET it! With an 
outburst of strength he threw himself at the vampire-hunter—and almost dislocated his 
arms when the chains held him back. 
“Let me go.” He growled. Richter kept on speaking his words: “Herr, hilfe Ihre Kinder..” 
He would help him, right into his grave! “Let me go!” Blood slicked his wrists, but the 
cuffs did not gave way. It hurt so much, so bad he was sobbing with it.
“You don’t want to.” Richter whispered softly. “Fight it. Think of Maria, and your love 
for her.” Yes, think of her. He tried to picture her face in his mind: a perfect oval, large 
eyes, sweet mouth....it dissipated into nothingness as another spasm of agony whipped 
through his body. What was love if he would die here? Maria’s face had brought him back 
to some sort of sanity though, and he pleaded: “Let me out, just a while...no humans... 
won’t kill anyone...nothing...please!” The other man shook his head sadly.
“I’m sorry Alucard, but I can’t.” The next words were soft, hard to speak. He wished he 
could stop what had to happen. “Da pries ich die Toten, die noch gestorben waren, mehr als 
die Vampire, die noch das Leben haben, und Ihrer Durst die Lebenden dreicht und wier Seele 
wie ein Schiff auf wilder See auseinander fallt..” 
Purify the vampire by baptizing him. 
 He turned around to a large bowl, standing next to him on a bench.
Alucard Alucard Alucard! I don’t want to be Alucard anymore! I won’t be my father’s 
son ever again! Those thoughts gave him strength, if only a little. The next moment 
Richter told him to brace himself and emptied the bowl over his head.
Richter knew vampires could not stand holy water; he had used it himself in Castlevania. 
Then, it had been a weapon, and he had enjoyed seeing the bloody monsters burning and 
screaming. This he did not enjoy at all. The moment the water touched Alucard’s skin, his 
eyes went wide, wider and wider until he thought they would pop out, then he opened his 
mouth and screamed. His flesh turned red, blisters covered his skin, blood welled up all 
over his body. He tried to change to escape the pain; wolf—bat—mist—human—wolf, 
over and over again, never completing his metamorphoses, howling at the top of his lungs.
God, what’s happening? Fire balls suddenly shot out of Alucard’s hands and his shrieks 
became even louder. Nobody with a heart could witness this without feeling sickened, and 
Richter, heart slamming in his throat, fled out of the chapel, fell against the door and 
began to throw up every meal he had ever eaten.
“Richter?” A woman’s voice. Maria’s voice. O God Maria, please don’t get in Maria 
please leave him alone don’t look at him... With sheer will he pushed himself up, wiped 
his mouth. Annette and her sister were standing in front of him, his wife horrified, Maria 
looking like she would faint any moment. The woman’s face was parch-white. “Is...is that 
him?” she asked. What?, he wanted to ask, but then he heard it himself: the muffled howls 
of agony, not completely stifled by the thick walls. It made him feel sick again; he had 
never heard a human being scream out his pain like this, let alone by his own hands.
“Yes,” he said hoarsely. She made a move for the door. “Maria! Don’t.”
“He’s hurting... he needs me.”
“He needs to be alone. Please! listen to me. Let him be, let him at least keep his dignity in 
front of you.” Maria’s lips quivered. He felt like quivering himself. Thankfully the horrible 
sound had softened, if not stopped completely. It was more like...whimpering, now. He 
swallowed. “I have to go back. You shouldn’t come...no! Maria, please..”
“Promise me you’ll call me if something goes wrong.” She balled her fist, determent not to 
cry. Richter nodded slowly. When he looked back, she was standing there still, Annette’s 
arms around her waist, snowflakes in her hair, hands clasped in front of her breasts. 
Somehow she seemed small; a girl in a world of pain and suffering. His heart hurt as he 
closed the doors behind him.  

The inside of the chapel smelled of smoke and pain. Several pews were blackened, one of 
the frescos on the wall had completely disappeared. Don’t be dead, please, don’t be dead.
He walked to the back, ready to jump back or forward when necessary. 
“Alucard?” A soft moan answered him before a voice croaked: “Adrian. Call me.. Adrian.”
He stopped in front of the Dhampire. Not that dreadful bestial creature, thank God. He 
was human once again, be it hardly recognizable. There was nothing sophisticated about 
him now. He looked like someone had upturned a bowl of oil over his head, then lit it; all 
burned and blistered. But even as Richter watched, the redness grew less angry-looking, 
the skin healed. Slowly, painfully, but he healed. The golden eyes looking back at him 
were dull with pain, but calm, the strength and insanity gone.
The book mentioned a list of things that could happen to the vampire-in-Blessing: 
convulsions, severe blooding, brain damage, death. At least Alucard was still alive. 
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes.. please.” His hands shook so much that he spilled half of the (normal) water down 
his front, but the rest he drank thirstily. “I don’t know whether it’s a good sign, but the 
need for blood is gone.” His eyes closed, snapped open, closed again. “I am so tired... do 
you need to go on?”
“I’m afraid so.” He hesitated. “Do you wish to see Maria? She is outside, waiting...”
“No. Not now.” He frowned, burned skin fell off his nose. “She’ll catch cold, outside... 
should be at home. Too vulnerable.” His eyelids fluttered but remained closed. He was 
simply too exhausted to keep up conversation.
“I will tell her to go back to the house.” Richter promised. “Get some sleep. The next part 
should be less painful for you.” Thin lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.
“Thank you.” he murmured gratefully, but he did not hear Richter get up for the pounding 
blackness in his ears.
*
Later, much later, he lay curled upon the rug, trying not to anger the Words by laying as 
still as possible. They were kneeling next to him, their iron fingers buried in his head. He 
could actually see them: two big, book-like creatures with sharp claws, holding his mind in 
their hands. As long as he lay still it only hurt, but when he moved they squeezed his mind 
to pieces. He tried to trick them, but the Words knew what he was doing and they 
punished him for his disobedience by constricting his throat so he couldn’t breath. He lost 
consciousness coughing and when he came to they were still there, holding his soul. It was 
better not to fight them.
‘My God, Alucard, but you are a fool. I knew you were a wimp, but this really beats 
everything.’ Vlad Tepes squatted down beside his son, shaking his head in disgust. ‘You 
let yourself get caught, didn’t you? Was it the witch-girl that made you hand yourself 
over, or did you spare her the trouble. You went for it yourself, huh? You’re crazy.’
“I’m not! And I’m not Alucard anymore! I will not live as a vampire any longer!”
‘You never were a vampire, Alucard, and you will always be my son. You are so stupid! 
You never hurt a living thing and you are consumed by guilt all the same. Sometimes I 
think you’re just a masochist.’
“I killed the woman I loved....”
‘You killed a foolish girl that shouldn’t have dared to even look at you! she was a farmers-
daughter, for God’s sake!’ He thumped his fist on the floor. Alucard winced in pain as the 
Words made him pay for the movement. ‘That was the only thing about your mother I 
could not stand: that pathetic love for lower beings. In her, I did not like it. In you, it is 
downright nauseating. Here you are, helpless, letting yourself be tortured by this... 
butcher, all out of your own free will. You are detestable. I am ashamed you are my flesh 
and blood.’
“I won’t be for much longer.” Alucard snarled back. The Words clawed in his brain.
‘No,’ the Count sneered through the red haze that flashed before his eyes, ‘you won’t. 
You, my traitorous son, are dying. And I, your father, will wait for you to come to me. I 
will give you reason to whimper!’ 

“No!” Alucard gasped, reaching for his father’s billowing cape, but the action triggered 
the Words’ revenge and he went down with a cry of agony. “Father, you don’t 
understand.... I can’t belong to your side.... why do you do this to me?” 
“Exaudi nos, Domine, sanctae Pater, omnipotens aeterne Deus : et mittere digneris 
sanctum Angelum tuum de caelis, qui custdiat, foveat, protegat, vistet, atque defendat 
omnes habitantes in hoc habitaculo. Per Christum Dominum nostrum.” Latin again. The 
Words beat in his head; Latin made them stronger. Stronger than German. He was cold, 
sweat-soaked clothes not much of a protection. Richter was still reading aloud. His voice 
was hoarser than it had been, but still strong enough to hurt him. Strange, wasn’t he 
supposed to be a friend? If only the Words hadn’t been there he would have sat up to ask 
him why he was hurting him so, but they were there; he remained where he was. He was 
only vaguely aware he was bleeding again.

It was ten past eleven according to the clock Richter had brought from the house. 
Although he had not rested apart from his sickness, he was not tired or hungry. He felt as 
if he could go on for years if he had to; he hoped the Dhampire could too. The man was 
mumbling softly, twitching and shivering on the carpet. It did not help his concentration, 
but he did not think he could blame him.
He had let Alucard touch the whip twice more, ever with the same outcome: a flash of 
pain in the man’s eyes, a hint of power in his palm. The second time it was definitely less 
strong then the first time, but it did not disappear. And Alucard was weakening. Most of 
his skin was whole now, but it had left him exhausted and painful. Maybe he ought to stop 
for a while.
The squeaking door make him turn around quickly, and Maria sneaked into the chapel 
before he could say something.
“I want to see him.” she said, lifting her chin. “And you won’t send me away this time.” 
Richter shrugged.
“As long as you don’t get too close. You don’t know how he’ll react.” He did, actually. It 
wasn’t pleasant. His arm still hurt from the burn he had gotten after his last watering the 
man. Not that he could help it, but Alucard had told him it was safer for him to stay away 
from him until he could control his powers again. On the other hand, he wasn’t Maria.
	She kneeled some feet from his reclining form, bit her lip. He looked awful; dried 
blood strikes over his gray face, fresh blood staining the cloth under his mouth. She called 
his name in a soft voice but he cringed as if she had screamed in his ears. When he opened 
his eyes, they were glassy, too bright, strange. Bloodlust, she thought, and shivered when 
he smiled. She had never seen a smile with so much pain in it as the one he gave her now.
“Maria, what are you doing here? They’ll see you.”
“Who will see me? Are you...” he was NOT all right, stupid question. Richter sat down on 
the pew next to her, studying the Dhampire and clicking his tongue.
“The Words.” Alucard whispered. He tried to get up, but obviously that hurt too much. 
“They keep me d-down. Don’t let them g-get you as well. C-can’t you see them?” His 
teeth began to chatter and he ground them; the Words would not permit it.
Maria and Richter shared shocked looks. Did we drive him over the edge now? The 
Bloodlust never affected him this much, usually. But of course, this was not usual. Maria 
lifted her hand, asking: “Can I touch you?” The Dhampire shrank back.
“No! Don’t, it’s t-too d-dangerous...” Damn, but it HURT. There were black roses 
blooming in his vision. Whatever Maria had said, he could not remember it; the Words 
stopped it. She went on: “Do you feel the...urge to bite me? Is it the Blood?”
“Yes...” Was it? This cold was not inside his body. “No.” The idea of getting warm again 
was an obsession. “I don’t know. I can’t think. I can’t think anymore...”
Maria frowned; this didn’t sound like Bloodlust. To hell with danger. She reached out and 
touched his cheek—and pulled back immediately. She had expected him to be freezing, 
but he was so hot she almost burned herself.
“Damn it, Richter, he’s burning up,” she exclaimed, placing her hand back. His face was 
very dry to her touch, and way hotter than any human being’s could get, almost as if a fire 
burned inside his scull.
“He has a fever?” Richter skipped through a couple of pages, read something, paged 
further. “Damn, he shouldn’t have.”
“I c-can’t become ill.” Alucard protested weakly. “It’s physically impossible for m-me to 
have a f-fever.” The others ignored him.
“Do you have some blankets in here? We have to take him back to the house.”
“Not here, but I can get some...”
“No!” his voice broke and went up like a teenager’s. The Words sank back into his 
dreams. “I still have something to say on this topic, d-don’t I? You have to finish the 
Blessing.”
“Adrian, you..”
“I’m not dead yet!”
“I don’t want you dead! I want to LIVE with you, you stupid stubborn wool-headed fool 
of a man, and I’d rather live with you feeding off the cattle than with you lying like a 
vegetable in the Renard tomb!” He was quite taken aback. So was Richter. His sister-in-
law could open that little mouth of hers much wider than he’d thought possible.
“I’ll get some blankets.” He mumbled. They needed some time together, obviously. Right 
now Alucard wasn’t much of a danger, and anyway, he was securely bound. Besides, he 
thought it more probable that Maria would harm him than he her. He did leave the whip, 
though. Safety for everything. Then he slipped out, leaving the two lovers trying to stare 
each other down.

Alucard lost, not because his will power was less than Maria’s, but because his head ached 
too badly to keep his eyes open.
“Fine,” he said, “you win. But I’m not planning to die anytime soon, nor t-turn into a 
vegetable. Richter must finish the j-job, otherwise everything w-was f-for n-nothing.” A 
gust of wind from the door made him shiver once more, and the pain was enough to 
wrench a groan from his throat. Maria’s cool fingers returned to his forehead, stroking his 
hair from his face.
“I know you are strong, but I’ve never felt anyone as hot as you are now, and I don’t like 
it one bit. You must have over a hundred and seven, way over.”
“I cannot become ill,” he repeated dully, “what you feel is probably my Pyrogenetic 
power, muddling up inside of me.” He shivered, and she noticed his nose was bleeding. He 
did not. With a cold feeling in her chest she turned to get him some water.
“Do you know which of the chalices holds ordinary water?”
“No... you can find out soon enough if you drop a bit on my hand. If it’s holy water, it’ll 
burn me, if not, I can drink it.” He was so bloody easy about it! How could he, with the 
heat steaming off his battered body? The first chalice turned out to be the right one, so she 
let him drink some of the stuff before she dipped in her handkerchief and started to wipe 
the blood from his face. It seemed to make him feel a bit better, for he closed his eyes, 
sighed deeply and fell asleep.

A couple of minutes later Richter and Maria sat next to each other on a pew, discussing 
the chances of success.
“He is terribly weak, damn it, he couldn’t even sit up!”
“This is a chapel; please don’t curse.” Richter replied automatically. “The man is not your 
possession, ma petite. It was his choice to undergo this, and I don’t think you can take 
him away against his will.”
“But he’s dying!”
“You don’t know that. I admit, I think he looks like hell, but you mustn’t forget he’s not 
human. This could be something like a flu for him.”
“I doubt it.” Maria glanced at the still form covered with blankets. White faced but for the 
high colour on his cheekbones. No matter what he said, she knew he was terribly ill, and 
would be even more if he remained here. “How far are you with the Blessing?”
“About two third of it all.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The last part is mainly 
reciting. A lot of time, but not really bad. But the last baptizing....”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Holy water. But then on the inside.”
“You want him to drink it!?” The sound of her voice woke the Dhampire from his 
slumber, and he looked around dazedly. 
“-omething wrong?” he whispered, clutching his head. “Why haven’t you continued?”
“Adrian, I don’t think...”
“Maria, if you can’t watch this, please go outside. You told me yourself you believed it 
would work and I will not have you doubting your own thoughts by simply... looking at 
me.” He pushed himself up against the wall and tried to appear reassuring. Too bad he 
was not at all succeeding.
“He’s right.” Richter said, patting her shoulder, “you were so sure it would work.”
“That was until I felt him burn up.” Maria whispered. She felt like crying, but didn’t, 
knowing it would do her no good anyway. They were both doubtless? Very well, what 
could she do to stop them? Nothing. With a tender kiss on Alucard’s brow she accepted 
her defeat, and hoped, prayed, that they were not mistaken. 

*
Which was the same Richter thought, five hours later. He had about fifty pages to go yet 
and the internal admission of holy fluids, but how on earth was he going to administer 
fluids into an unconscious man? The last two hours he had checked regularly whether the 
man was still breathing. Maria would kill him if Alucard died...if he wouldn’t die of shame 
and guilt first. He had liked Alucard, Vampire-kin or not, and he HAD saved his life. 
Dying was not on option.
He lay down the book and squatted beside the Dhampire. He had said he didn’t perspire; 
well, he was doing it now, it would have streamed off his face if his temperature hadn’t 
been so high. If it would not completely burn him inside, the water would probably even 
help him a little.
“Are you awake? Come on, give me some response here..” One bleary eye opened, pupil 
so dilated it seemed black instead of hazel. Thank God for small mercies.
“Time ‘e drink ‘e venom?” Alucard whispered. Richter nodded.
“If you think you can’t do it, don’t. I don’t want your death on my head.”
“Don’...die... so eas’ly.” He pushed himself up, swaying as he sat. “Stop fussing.” 
Remarkable, the way he could still look arrogant in blood and sweat sodden clothes and   
his skin the colour of bleached bones. There was no other word than commanding when 
he held out his hand for the cup. 
Well, this is it. The moment of truth. Never mind he was so scared he could hardly 
breathe, never mind he was going to scream. After this he would know whether he had 
failed or triumphed. He closed his eyes briefly, sending a loving thought to Sylvia—no, 
not Sylvia, Maria—and drank.
	And he did scream. He screamed until his lungs and throat gave out and blood 
covered him from head to toe. It dripped out of his pores, leaked from his nose, eyes, ears. 
When he finally stopped Richter was ready to commit suicide. If Maria had heard this, if 
she saw him like this....
“It has been enough.” he said through clenched teeth. “I can’t go through with this. I will 
not! I will not be forced to kill you. Do you understand!? I will NOT!” The Dhampire, 
maybe just man now, hopefully, stirred. Fifty pages... he just wouldn’t survive it. Richter 
felt for a heart beat and found it, fluttering under his fingers in the burning flesh of the 
dying man. It stopped, went on again, fast, then slow, stopping again.
“Let’s get you out of here.” It just had to be enough. Only fifty pages...it had to be 
enough. He pushed the blankets aside and carefully placed his arm around Alucard’s waist. 
The chains. Damn it. He loosened the cuffs.
“-re f’n’shd?” the Dhampire whispered.
“No. But you are. I’m taking you back to the house.”
“Ohhh...” the other exhaled, and became a limp, heavy weight in his arms.


To be continued in F.F.10
*********************************************************************** 
Author’s note: there, my private torture scene. I said it would be nasty! I stole the Latin phrases from 
Eng’s Chaos Chronicles and the German stuff are part Prediger and part my own fantasy. Hope I didn’t 
step on any toes with this, and if I did, I’m sorry. If you want to scold me, or, which I would like much 
better, say you liked it, you can contact me at chameleon@kitty-oosten.demon.nl
See ya next time,

Chameleon


I guess these people talk Romanian, but as I write this in English and don’t know any Romanian I use Old 
English for Old Romanian. I hope you are not disappointed.

************************************************************************

Fighting Evil 10

Vaguely, Alucard remembered being carried through the snowy night, cold wetness on his 
hot face. Then there was an undistinguished period of time in which he was completely 
out, then warmth and voices, but the warmth made him shiver, strangely enough, and 
Maria was talking to him but he didn’t understand a single word she was saying. He 
blacked out again, only to wake naked in a bed, hearing his own voice rave on in a 
language that had changed ages ago: “...promise thee, thou willst not suffer, I will not 
harm thee...” at least, he thought it was his voice, but it was so hoarse and raspy he almost 
didn’t recognise it. It reminded him of the time of the Blood, the period he had forgotten 
as soon as he could... blood... blood... there was a woman, pushing him back against the 
pillows. She was pretty, known, but what was she doing here in his tomb?
“Please calm down,” she whispered softly, “you’ll start bleeding again.” She wasn’t afraid 
of him. Why wasn’t she? He had killed his lover, only yesterday, or was it longer ago?
“What century is this?” he rasped, trying to get a grip on himself. He really couldn’t 
remember. How long was it ago that he met Trevor Belmont? Had it all been some kind of 
dream, an invasion of his mind by creatures like the Succubus?
“It’s the 19th century, October 1802, can’t you remember?” He could, that was the whole 
problem. There were so many memories, he had been so many persons...
---
He came to with convulsive shivers rocking his body. Alone, this time. His mind was 
relatively clear, although a bit foggy with the pounding headache he still had, but he knew 
who he was and where and when. Alucard. I’ll probably be Alucard for the rest of my 
life. He sighed, and frowned with the pain of that simple action. Great. He had never been 
ill in his whole life and a visit to a puny little chapel screwed him up so bad he had to stay 
in bed to get better. Well, it’s always better than blood lust, he mused, pulling the sheets 
closer around his body, though if you satisfied that need, it wasn’t so bad at all...NO! 
never again. Not that. Never again. He closed his eyes and hoped he would get warm 
somehow.....
---
“Please do not touch me,” he murmured. Maria looked up from the book she tried to read 
but was too nervous to concentrate on, and hushed: “Nobody will... o damned, you’re 
bleeding again.”
“Don’t...” his skin was covered with a film of bright red sweat—or blood, whatever it 
was. Making calming noises, she dipped a piece of cloth in a water-filled bowl and 
carefully wiped it away, flinching as she did so. It was eerie to feel the cloth warm up so 
fast in her hands; not half as horrifying as her lover’s condition, but terrifying anyway.
“It’s all right. See? Now, we have to get some more fluids into you.”
“Not blood!”
“Of course not. Water, or juice if you think you can manage that.” He smiled, that strange, 
non-human smile he showed just before a particularly bad attack of Blood fever, and she 
took a step away from him. “Are you quite all right, Adrian?”
“O yesss,” he hissed, “perfectly fine. I’m burning all over and there’s blood everywhere, 
but I’ve never been better. You were right, I was stupid.” He nodded to himself, head held 
a trifle slanted as if listening to something she could not hear, and went on, using words 
she’d never heard before: “You said so with Flame, but thou were wrong, the lass was not 
a Hunter...” he shook his head, closing his eyes. “It was my fault! Mine. Maria,” his eyes 
fastened on her face, blazing, “I never meant to kill thou. Thou must believe me!”
“I believe you.” she assured him. “I know. I know everything.”
“No, you do not.” He hissed softly as she dabbed at his face with the cloth. It may not be 
fever, but the heat made him hallucinate and cold water, if it didn’t bring him completely 
out of it, did calm him down a little. His mumbling became softer and softer, until it died 
altogether: “Thou dost not know anything...”

Maria sat down heavily on the bed. He seemed to have been ill for weeks, but she knew it 
was only ten hours. Strange, how exhaustion and fear could stretch time. Tiredly she 
brought a hand to her face to push her hair out of her face and saw she still had the bloody 
cloth in her fingers. She flopped it back into the bowl.
Annette had told her Alucard was an adult who didn’t need her to watch him, but she was 
wrong; the poor man was so delirious he didn’t even know who he was at the time. 
Besides, it was for her own ease of mind rather than his, for she was afraid he would 
disappear into thin air as soon as she turned her back. His illness had three stages, as she 
called it: the shivering state, in which he was perfectly conscious but so cold he could only 
curl up in fetal position and wait until he got warm again; the fever stage, in which he 
sometimes got so hot his hair began to curl and the blankets began to smoke; and the final 
stage, which he had now reached: total exhaustion. She touched his face, relieved to find 
he had cooled down to his normal temperature. It could rise and drop within minutes, and 
had done so now, for the third time this day. Pyrogenetic powers indeed, she thought, 
playing with strands of moist hair. In the state he was in, she could do anything she liked, 
he was as good as comatose, or tomatose, as she used to say when she was small. A 
tomato was not exactly what came to mind when looking at Alucard though, there was 
nothing red and round about him. The only vegetable she could compare him with was 
leek, but she detested leek, and he had told her, promised her, he would not be a 
vegetable. She smiled, stroking the tiny braids she had subconsciously made out of his face 
and kissed him on his forehead.
“Sleep tight, my sweet leek, and get better. I’ll go and see whether Richter has woken up 
yet.”
The man had crashed out as soon as he lay down, completely beat after the Blessing. 
There was nothing he could do to improve Alucard’s condition, but she felt the need to be 
comforted, and somehow Annette just didn’t do. She didn’t have the knowledge.
With a last look to the peacefully sleeping....creature, Maria tiptoed out of the room.

*
Richter awoke halfway the next day, still feeling drained. The ordeal had taken more out 
of him than he had expected, and he hadn’t even finished it! His first thought was Alucard, 
and he walked to the man’s room, not bothering with any other clothes than his peignoir 
to check on him. He found him fast asleep, and his sister in law in the chair beside his bed, 
equally fast asleep. It would be a shame to wake them now, so he went back to his room, 
washed, dressed and went down to kiss his wife good morning.
The first he met, however, was not Annette but his bouncy young son, who whooped with 
delight when he spotted his dad. Richter smiled; a good portion of child-devotion was 
exactly what he needed right now.
“Hello Riff.” He called, sweeping the boy up in his arms, “What’ve you been up to 
today?”
”Mommy baked a cake!” Riff squealed happily, blissfully unaware of adult-problems. “An 
APPLE cake!”
“Did she now?”
“Yes, she did.” Annette said. She walked into the living room, holding up a large spoon 
dripping with apple sauce. Riff wriggled out of his father’s arms and made a grab for it. “It 
calms me down, baking.” Richter took her in a tight hug.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” The woman buried her face in his neck.
“I heard him... scream,” she whispered haltingly, “and I... I remembered... the castle, and 
the... Count...” she swallowed a sob, wishing she wasn’t such a cry baby, and tried to 
finish her sentence: “All the lost souls... and he did this because he wanted to. How could 
he do this to himself? How could YOU do this? You frighten me! How can you stand 
hurting someone like this?”
“I can’t.” He answered quietly. “But he made it, didn’t he?”
“Until now, yes. But he’s been so ill... I was afraid he would burn up and disappear with 
the wind. Maria and I didn’t know what to do.”
“Do you want me to take another look at him?” She nodded, and he hugged her again. 
“Don’t worry Ann, it’ll be just fine. 
Have you chased the cook away or can I still get breakfast?” She smiled through her tears, 
nodded, and pulled him to the kitchen where it smelled wonderfully of apple cake.

* 
Alucard had his talk with the Vampire Hunter between shivers and deliriums, and the only 
thing that became clear, was that he was not going to die, would get better as soon as his 
fire powers settled and would probably weight next to nothing because the holy water had 
done some serious damage to his insides. Whether the Blessing had worked at all, he did 
not know, and, he said, wiping bloody sweat from his brow, he did not care anymore. At 
Richter’s shocked expression he mumbled something about not being a Vampire anyway, 
and about fire purifying even better than water and that his father had denied his existence.
After that, he sunk back into his fever dreams and was unintelligible. 
At least he was harmless, Richter thought as he forced worry and guilt down, and not in 
pain anymore. With his healing factor he would be healthy within a week. He hoped. He 
left the man sleeping in a tightly rolled up ball and tried to go on with his life.

*
‘Do you remember the old times, my son? Do you remember the feasts, the ecstasy, the 
hot throbbing pleasure of the blood? Do you remember how it warmed your frigid skin 
and brought colour in your cheeks? You used to call it a dance, before the red-haired 
woman took your heart away from me. I can still see you stand in the middle of that orgy 
of death with your eyes like the sun and your features alight... I was proud of you then.
Now, look at you. You’re dying, all the passion and light is gone. You’re dying, and the 
only thing that can heal you is what you keep denying yourself. Alucard, why don’t you 
just take it?’
“I don’t know.” He whispered. He stood in front of the window, gazing out over the 
estate. The shirt he had worn in bed lay crumpled on the floor; he couldn’t bear wearing it, 
it scratched his skin and was moist with pink sweat. Maria was not here. Where was she? 
Had she finally left him to die in this hostile house? 
He tried the door and found it, unsurprisingly, locked. So they wanted to keep him inside. 
They should have thought again. The window was easily opened, fresh air blew in his face. 
Goose bumps spread over his skin, but it was good to stand here and let the wind clear his 
mind.
Blood. They would keep it from him, well, than he would have to go and take it himself! 
With a soft groan he willed his human form to change, and it did, slowly, arms becoming 
wings and hair changing to fur.
Free! he thought triumphal, and the small white bat soared into the clear autumn air.

“Darling, you cannot beat the King with the Jack.”
“But he got a sword.”
“He has got a sword. Yes, I know, but the King’s still stronger. Only if you have an Ace 
of the High colour you can...” Riff threw down his cards.
“When’s daddy coming home ‘gain? He promised me we’d go hunting.” Annette smiled. 
Hunting meant trying to catch squirrels; they’d never managed to catch one, but Riff was 
convinced he would succeed one day.
“Daddy is out with aunt Maria. They needed a ride. I think he’ll be home before tea. Until 
then, you’ll just have to wait.” Riff kicked his legs, looking cross. Grown ups could be so 
unfair; EVERYBODY could see the Jack was stronger than the King. And dad had 
PROMISED him they would go hunting. And where had the long-haired man gone? He’d 
thought his father was going to help him, but now he had disappeared completely. It was 
not fair.

How long had he been ill, that his wings were so weak now? It couldn’t have been longer 
than a day or two, but every muscle was shaking by the time Alucard sailed into the 
kitchen. They’ve starved me, that’s why I’m so weak. The blood will heal me, it always 
does. No animals, they make me sick, no, humans, their blood is so sweet, how could I 
forget... There was only one person in the kitchen, a nice, fat, healthy woman in her fifties. 
The cook. Alucard giggled. Make me a dish, it won’t cause you pains, give me the blood, 
you keep in your veins. Bad poem, I used to be better. He fluttered round her a couple of 
times, but she was so busy kneading the dough she did not even notice him. Good. He let 
himself drop in her neck, bit through the layers of skin and fat and sucked.

The scream had the windows tinkering. Annette dropped her cards and sprang up like 
someone pinched. The kitchen. Riff grinned broadly; screams like these always meant 
vermin, rats, mice, frogs, beetles. All kinds of things he liked to collect. Happily he ran 
after his mother as she raced to the kitchen.
“What is it?!” The cook stood in the middle of the kitchen, one hand in her neck, the other 
wielding an enormous spoon like a barbarian would wield a morning star. Riff shrank back 
in terror.
“VERMIN!” she screeched, moving her bulk to the place where the unfortunate creature 
was lying now, “It BIT me! I don’t know what it is, but I will not...!” Then Annette saw 
the small white thing fluttering between the coals, and she jumped to the rescue.
“Don’t! Anna, that’s one of Maria’s birds!”
“That aren’t no BIRD, Madam. It BIT me!”
“Maybe it was scared.” Fast as lightning she pushed herself in front of the massive woman 
and grabbed for Alucard. He seemed to be dazed—as he ought to be after a whack with 
the spoon. It did not stop him from biting however, and she almost dropped him again. 
Anna was right, he did bite... Oh Richter...she could actually feel him sucking the blood 
out of her. Riff pulled her skirt: “Mommy, what is it? Can I see it? Is it a bird?”
“Yes.” Annette managed. Tiny teeth munched on the flesh of her index finger and she fled 
out of the kitchen; she had to get rid of him, he had to change back now, and then away 
with him. He had SWORN he didn’t drink blood, he had SWORN!
“Mommyyyyyy!” Riff screeched, following her as quick as he could, which wasn’t fast 
enough to keep up with her.
“Stay down there!” Ignoring the child’s protests she ran to Alucard’s room, but halfway 
the bat began to wriggle to get out of her hand. She squeezed her fingers close. O no you 
won’t! Blood dripped through her fingers and she winced, not of pain but of disgust and 
shock. Once in the room she immediately locked the door with one hand, fumbling with 
the key. Riff was NOT to come in! It was then that she noticed he had released her finger 
and was not only wriggling to get away but also convulsing, and it was the blood he was 
throwing up now that stained the bedroom floor. Annette sighed.
You poor bastard, she thought, sitting down on the bed and putting him down on her lap, 
you really can’t help it, can you? After a couple of minutes he stopped convulsing, lay 
exhausted on her knees. Without thinking she brought her hand down to ease him, but the 
moment she touched him he began to scramble backwards, fell on the floor and tried to fly 
away. She stooped and caught him before he could.
“Don’t do that. Adrian, stop it! You have to change back. Do you hear me, you have to 
change back to human form.” The white bat jumped out of her hands on the pillow and 
tried to hide under it. Annette shook her head.
“You needn’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.” The sudden reappearance of the man startled 
her, and she had to check herself to keep from fleeing. Bright golden eyes looked back at 
her out of a pale, bruised face. 
“You won’t burn me? You won’t hit me to death with your whip? You won’t put a stake 
through my heart, or behead me?”
“Oh God, Adrian! What kind of person do you take me for?” He shook his head, pulled 
his knees to his chest and hugged the pillow to his body—which was naked, Annette 
suddenly saw. Of course, it made sense. He was blonde, and so would be the bat if he 
wore no clothes.
“I take thee for a person I bit while I’d given thee mine oath I would not harm anybody 
here.” He rubbed his left temple, where a big bruise was turning bluer by the moment.
“You said it made you sick, and it did.” He barked a laugh that was more a sob. Annette 
watched in shock as two tears streaked his cheeks, unnoticed by the man himself as he 
said: “And how much good will that do thee next time? I killed the woman I loved after 
swearing I would not harm her... an accident, of course, by accident, but I killed her, and I 
could not even stay to bury her...”
“You killed a woman?” Annette whispered incredulously. Alucard nodded. The tears dried 
on his cheeks.
“Yes. But she was only one of.... I don’t know how many. I tried not to kill them, I hate 
the taste of death, but what father did with them I do not know. For Flame I stopped the 
Blood... not that it helped her a great deal.” He raised his face, and his expression was so 
strange, so wild Annette moved away from him. How could she have thought he didn’t 
look like his father, it was the Count from tip to toe, madness hidden by a thin layer of 
manners. How could Maria love him? She made one last effort to calm him down: “But 
you turned away from your father. You helped killing him, you beat Evil....”
“Evil!” Alucard spat, “What is Evil but what people make of it? When a she-wolf wears 
herself out to feed her cubs she’s a Good creature, when she attacks the people who try to 
catch her and kills them she’s an Evil beast. In your precious Bible—yes, I know all about 
that book—it says that it is a sin to kill your fellow men, but now I’ve killed my own 
father I am considered a hero. It’s insane!”
“If you think it’s insane, why did you do it?!” Annette cried. “Nobody forced you to kill 
him!” His shoulders slumped over the pillow.
“....hurt Maria.” he whispered.
“Excuse me?”
“I could not let him hurt Maria.” He smiled faintly. “He was crazy, Vlad Tepes, my father. 
And he would have hurt her. Was he Evil, my father? I don’t know. He was cruel, but 
he’d always been cruel, be it righteous. I used to think my mother’s death was nothing to 
him, but now I know better.”
“Your mother was burnt, wasn’t she?” Great tact, Annette, keep it up. Maybe you’ll push 
him over the edge if you go on like this. Alucard only nodded though.
“Yes. I was there, saw her burn. I could have saved her, you know, and I tried, but she 
stopped me. She stopped me...” Annette leaned her back against the wall, trying to follow 
his pattern of thought.
“She stopped you from saving her?”
“Yes...” 
“Why?” She wished he wouldn’t look so helpless, it made her feel sorry for him. 
“I don’t know. I... can’t remember. Something she said about humans and a hard lot...” he 
frowned, chewing his lower lip. “She died, and father never even talked about her. How 
did I hate him. How I despised myself for being his son... but it was so much easier to 
forget and let it rest.
I’ve always called it lust.” Again he jumped from topic to topic, and Annette desperately 
tried to follow him.
“What? The Blood?”
“Yes, the Blood. It hurts, you know, if you don’t satisfy your need. So much easier to 
take what I need, to do as he says. But the Bloodlust won’t let itself be kept once it is 
released, as Sylvia knows, dear Sylvia. When she died I lost the last of my soul. And I 
thought I could get it back. I was a fool. Such a fool.” He seemed to pierce her with those 
burning eyes of his, pools of insanity. Slowly Annette began to move to the door.
“Don’t you understand? I thought the Blessing could make me whole again, but I’ve never 
been broken!” He laughed once more, without mirth, a bitter, dark laugh that rasped 
Annette’s ears. She had no idea what he was rambling on about. She doubted he knew 
himself.
“What do you mean, Adrian?”
“My mind!” he went on without answering, “It’s all in my own mind. I’m not two halves, 
but one twisted whole. He was right, I cannot change my blood, I never was a Vampire at 
all. I just have to come to terms with my mind!” Annette bumped her back against the 
door. He did not look at her, though, he was listening to the weird voices in his own head. 
And nodding excitedly.
“I need to think,” he said suddenly, to her, and she jumped with fright. If Vlad had been 
crazy, his son wasn’t far behind him. “I need to think.” And with that he changed, once 
more, in a bat, and flew out the window.  

To be continued in F.F.11

************************************************************************
Author’s note: confused? Good. I realize I did not follow the script completely, but come on, Dracula, 
dying peacefully, saying he’s sorry when his darling sonny slays him and says his loving wife didn’t want 
him to hurt humans? BS! First, Good old Drac had to have been a vampire before he took Lisa as his 
lover, for how could Alucard have vampiric powers if he wasn’t? So he had to have been a blood drinker 
when he met Lisa already, and if you think he is the same Dracula as the one from the previous 
Castlevanias, that’s the only thing that makes sense. How could she expect him to take another diet when 
she died? Love’s great, but she simply asks too much! Second, Vlad’s supposed to be a villain, and 
villains don’t say they’re sorry.
And about Al, I think that our poor little Dhampire was in fact a horrible dweeb, a moody whiner who 
was too weak to take matters in his own hands. I think he was slightly schizophrenic and had a horrible 
trauma because of his mother’s death. Sylvia I made up because you can’t make me believe one Belmont 
can make a vampire go to sleep. I don’t know anything about CV 3, but I just don’t believe Trevor met the 
guy and Al suddenly realized: “Gosh, you’re right, I hate my dad, maybe my bloodline’s cursed. I guess 
it’d be better if I went to sleep, because I can’t commit suicide.” Crap! 

There, that’s out. Sorry if I insulted devoted Castlevania-players. By the way, if you have any comments, 
do mail me at chameleon@kitty-oosten.demon.nl