Ouroboros

Eric Lecarde thought Proserpina was a fitting name for the castle. It was the name of the girl who became queen of the underworld, after all, and it seemed they were walking into hell itself. The place seemed guarded with its own despicable illusion magic (not to mention the horde of monsters), as though trying to spit out any man that dared enter- or drive them mad. However, the two companions were no ordinary men.

 

As they neared the penultimate chamber, ascending the staircase, his companion John Morris was silent, his brow furrowed in contemplation. His face was cast in eerie red light and harsh shadow, from the blood red moon that loomed above their heads.

 

“Come on now,” Eric said, noticing he had stopped to stare at the sky. “We haven’t got time to waste. The Countess is in there... Our journey is nearly over.”

 

“Hm. Right.” John nodded, and walked dutifully up the steps. The end of their quest slumbered within.

 

The room housing Elizabeth Bartley’s coffin was as luxurious and indulgent as the rest of the castle, with walls of marble, elegant statues and columns, all framed with silk red curtains. They had followed the vampire across all of Europe, and it was one hell of a relief when they found out she had planned to take a brief rest in her next location. It gave John and Eric time to catch up to her, and- hopefully!- end her plot to resurrect Count Dracula.

 

There was little time for reminiscence, or to marvel at the vampire’s riches, however. Their presence in the room had awoken her. They had planned for this, of course; any vampire hunter worth his salt would have. Regardless, it still sent a chill down Eric’s spine as the creature of the night pushed up the lid of her coffin.

 

“My, my. So the hunters have come into my house, and expect me to lay down and be staked?” She laughed, a regal, cruel sound. She twirled a dark green lock of hair in mock-playfulness, striding over to the other side of the room. Her thin, needle sharp fangs gleamed in the moonlight that streamed through the tall windows.

 

“Stop this at once,” Eric said, “Your vile actions have threatened mankind, and so we must stop you. That is a hunter’s vow.”

 

“Threatened...? Oh, but they were already doomed.” As she spoke, she seemed to change in the light, ugly green scales crawling across her skin, and her body shifted to that of a snake. Her hands were twisted into sharp, gnarled claws, and she towered above John and Eric with newfound size. "Have you heard the story of Ouroboros, hunters? 'Twas a snake that wrapped itself around the world. It wasn't hard for me to do the same," Elizabeth laughed, her forked tongue flicking, tasting the fear in the air. "All it took was one silly dead Archduke, and the world is enveloped in my chaos."

 

To most this new, monstrous form might have been worrying; more powerful than facing the vampire with her true face. But to a hunter’s trained eye, it was known that vampires changed shape out of desperation- essentially, a last resort when their true selves were not enough. Elizabeth, however, had begun the fight with this transformation.

 

She was intimidated by them, and that filled Eric with a ferocious optimism.

 

John made the first move, the Vampire Killer cracking down on the floor in front of the snake-beast. She let out a spiteful hiss, her emerald-green coils writhing as she moved to avoid the holy whip, and then propelled herself forward at frightening speed, barrelling down on top of John and holding him down with her claws and crushing him with the weight of her tail. Most vampires weren’t prepared to be fighting two opponents at once, though, and it was trademark prideful foolishness to leave herself open to attack. Eric stabbed at her, forcing her aside with the Alucard Spear, which was powerful enough to force its way past her scales and draw the night’s first blood.

 

She screeched, a cacophonous sound. “You hunters and your silly toys!” The inside of her mouth seemed to glow with heat, and from it came a barrage of white-hot fireballs.

 

“Eric! Look out!” John yelled, and though the warning reached the Lecarde’s ears, he didn’t manage to roll out of the way in time, sustaining a terrible burn on his forearm.

 

He dropped the spear to try and alleviate the pain, clutching the wound. A moment of foolishness, but John was quick to back him up, striking Elizabeth with the whip several times while avoiding her heavy muscular tail, which took some difficulty. He bought some time for Eric to grab the spear once more, wincing at the pain in his arm, but joining John in the offensive. The spear and whip combined held a tremendous cooperative power- the Alucard Spear was crafted to compliment the Vampire Killer, after all, and both Lecarde and Morris had crafted their bond of the same steel. They were like extensions of each other, fighting together.

 

Another volley of flames came their way, which Eric had the sense to dodge this time, and John used the Vampire Killer to latch onto the ceiling and launch himself onto the serpent- a risky move, but one that would pay off. He landed on her back, and wrapped the whip around her neck, the holy material burning against her scaly skin. She writhed wildly, trying to get him off, to which John laughed. “Whoo! I’ve seen more fight from my mustangs back home!”

 

“Curse you...” Elizabeth gritted her teeth, a scorching scent coming from where the whip was tied fast against her. She thrashed, eventually bucking John off of her back, though the action caused the whip to drag harshly against her skin. From her mouth dripped frothy venom, and she slithered forward to attempt a bite.

 

Eric knew what she was doing, targeting the Morris first and foremost. His whip was the most powerful weapon against vampires, and if John was killed or otherwise incapacitated, her remaining opponent had a slower weapon and a wounded arm. Despite her seeming desperation, Elizabeth Bartley had devised a genius strategy. If she was not their enemy, Eric would have respected it- but he could not let this come to pass. He leaped in front of John, thrusting his spear forward into her gaping mouth. He intended to stab through the back of her head, but the vampire backed off before he could, spitting out the blade with a sputter of scarlet blood. “Now’s your chance.” Eric nodded towards John, and the Texan drew back his muscular arm to attempt a powerful strike with the Vampire Killer.

 

However... Just as he was about to land the killing blow, he stopped mid-swing, his body seemingly seizing up.

 

“Come on, John...!” Eric muttered worriedly. “We haven’t got time to waste. Did she poison you...?” John grunted with pain, and collapsed to the ground, the whip tumbling out of his hands.

 

“I will admit, Morris, you put up a tremendous fight, but...” Elizabeth taunted as John lay motionless on the floor, wracked by pain. “You make a poor imitation of a Belmont.”

 

Icy fear creeped through Eric as he realized what was happening.

 

Because he had seen this sort of thing happen before...

 

Because he saw what had happened to John’s father, Quincy.

 

Upon unlocking the whip’s power, Quincy had died soon after defeating Dracula. Though John had assumed his father had merely succumbed to his wounds, Eric was beginning to suspect the two were linked. He remembered helping him unlock the whip’s power; remembered John being unconscious for more than a day, facing whatever was within the whip. Could it have caused this sudden pain...?

 

No. I’m certain of it. The Vampire Killer is a holy whip, not some evil, hexed object... Surely it couldn’t!

 

Elizabeth’s laugh echoed through the elegantly decorated room, as she faded back to her humanoid form. “I know you can’t face me alone, even like this. How wonderful, that fortune smiled upon me! And now...” She raised her hands dramatically. “You get to watch each other die. I found your tale of comraderie quite touching... Such a shame it has no happy ending.”

 

“No!” Eric yelled. He couldn’t bear to lose John now, not after he lost Gwendolyn, after Elizabeth had turned her into a creature of the night. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not again.

 

I can’t do this without you.

 

Ignoring the pain in his burned arm, he thrust the Alucard Spear, alight with jade-green flame, forward with as much strength as he could muster, straight through the chest of the cruel vampire countess. It was like an explosion of blood came forth, painting the surroundings a horrible crimson.

 

That was the secret strength of the Alucard Spear: it was just as effective when used as a stake.

 

The countess shrieked in pain, clutching the wound in her chest, where her heart would have once been beating. She spit and sputtered, blood pouring out of her mouth as she dropped to her knees and crawled helplessly towards the coffin that would not save her.

 

But she was still laughing.

 

“Fools indeed... You haven’t stopped anything. I’ve...” She coughed. “I’ve stalled long enough. My servant should have resurrected the count by now.”

 

“Damn it all!” Eric cursed, standing protectively over the motionless John.

 

“Yes, you’ll be seeing my dear old uncle very soon.” Elizabeth smirked. “And the world shall know chaos once more- the kind of chaos it’s been desperately needing.” She paused to cough up some more blood, as her body began to be set alight with necromancy’s fire. “Now... Enjoy the fireworks.”

 

Then, she exploded, her body crumbling to dust as the fire spread from it. Eric shielded John with his azure cape. His pain was slowly subsiding, at least... Beside the coffin, only her silky red dress remained.

 

It was over.

 

But it wasn’t, really. The two companions had their greatest foe awaiting ahead.

 

“John,” Eric shook his shoulders hurriedly. “John, get up.”

 

John rose a shaking hand to Eric’s bloodstained cheek. “Give me a moment. That old bloodsucker really got me good...”

 

“Indeed...” Eric shook his head. “I... I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I mean... This endless cycle of fighting a man who won’t stay dead. I wish it didn’t have to be us.”

 

Like a snake biting its own tail.

 

“It’s... It’s going to kill you one day.” He continued.

 

“Don’t you cry, Lecarde. I ain’t quittin’ on you anytime soon.” The hunter ruffled Eric’s golden hair affectionately, forcing an optimistic smile. “There’s fight in me yet.”

 

“Enough fight to face the Dark Lord?” Eric asked.

 

“Goddamn right.” John said with conviction, and he struggled to his feet. “And you do too, I reckon. I know you, I know the determination in your eyes.”

 

“We’ll do it together.” Eric nodded. “Like we always do.”

 

Another staircase stretched out before them, the final climb before Dracula himself. Their fate awaited before them on this night, and though the cost may be great, anything would be worth the tears to save humanity.

 

They paused to stare at the blood red moon again, and Eric understood the hesitation.

 

“Say, Eric... If I ever have a little one, and I’m not around no more...” John started.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Can you promise to watch over them?” John asked, his brown eyes imploring.

 

Eric nodded.

 

“I will, John. Even if I have to do so as the wind in the air. I promise.”

 

The companions ascended the final staircase in contemplative silence.