Vampire Hunter D Volume 18- Fortress of the Elder God

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  There was no reply. That was as good as an affirmation.

  “Why, that’s—a flute. My! Above us and below, to our left and right, I can hear it coming from every possible direction. There must be enough people playing to start a damn orchestra.”

  “There are only two,” D said simply.

  “That can’t be!” the hoarse voice replied, and then it fell silent, adding a second later, “You’re right. You really are one scary character, you know that? Sure as hell, you’re the only one who could do a job like this out here in the Playground, where your horse got gobbled up as soon as we entered the place.”

  “How far is the fortress?”

  “Another fifty miles. We should get there tomorrow. Of course, the real trouble will just be starting then.” Chortling, the hoarse voice added, “Those clowns will be better off if they die along the way.”

  The voice stopped.

  D had halted. Even in the midday sun, his beautiful visage remained icy cold, and he kept it pointed straight ahead.

  “The sound of their footsteps has disappeared,” the hoarse voice was heard to say.

  The man’s black hair fluttered in the wind like the lush grass of the prairies.

  “So, what are you gonna do? You planning on going to save ’em?”

  Before the voice had finished teasing D, the Hunter’s boots began treading the ground before him again.

  ENEMY SIGHTED IN THE PLAYGROUND

  CHAPTER 2

  -

  I

  -

  Everyone saw the man who’d identified himself as D stop. But then he didn’t move another muscle. He simply stood still, like a gorgeous piece of sculpture. In spite of themselves, they too halted.

  “Something ain’t right,” Jan said, tilting his head to one side. His right hand was going for the broadsword on his belt. “Don’t move. I’m just gonna ask him a few questions,” he said, taking a couple of steps.

  “You stay here,” the sheriff said, clapping a hand on the mobster’s shoulder as he stepped forward. “This is myjob. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

  The sheriff seemed to be fighting the wind as he dragged his massive form up behind D.

  “Hey, is there something—”

  Right in front of him, D turned. The sheriff’s eyes bulged in their sockets.

  D didn’t have a face. Beneath his traveler’s hat was a gaping hole; not even his hair could be seen. A heartbeat later, the sheriff saw some sort of purplish mass shoot out of the hole. The thing split into countless purple tentacles that assailed the group behind him. There was no time to run or even to dodge them, so great was their speed. Wrapping around everyone’s torsos, they pulled tight with a strength that threatened to tear them apart. Maria’s face quickly turned blue from cyanosis. Weizmann groaned, and Jan found his arm crushed against his torso just as he was about to raise his sword.

  Overhead, a black shape soaked up the sunlight as it zipped along. One of the tentacles coiled, trying to catch hold of it. It was rebuffed instead. A second and third entered the fray. Deftly averting them, an arrow of black iron flew with supersonic speed at D’s face, piercing the center of the writhing mass of tentacles. Reeling back without a sound, D tried to extricate the arrow with both hands, but it wouldn’t budge. The tentacles had already released the people. It was obvious that they danced in the throes of death at the bidding of their host.

  When D finally fell over, one of the men avoided the still-twitching tentacles and went over to him. It was Bierce. Obviously the deadly arrows that had pierced D had been unleashed by him in midair. Like the others, he’d had both arms tied up by the tentacles, which now twitched on the ground in numerous pieces. They’d been torn apart. The question was, how?

  The warrior looked down sternly at D in his death throes.

  Just then, Jan came over clutching his throat and cursed, “That son of a bitch was lying when he said he was a Vampire Hunter. Damned if he wasn’t one of the monsters!”

  “No, it’s not him.”

  “What?” Jan exclaimed, and he wasn’t the only one with the wrathful look of a demon on his face.

  “He was different somehow. Somewhere along the line we got duped. By more of these things, I guess.”

  “These things? What the hell are they?”

  “Things is the only way I can describe them. Looks like those aerial photos didn’t catch all the strange stuff on the ground. Are all of you okay?” Bierce said to the group behind Jan.

  “Yeah. I’ll survive.”

  “Keep the Stows and the kid back there,” the warrior told them.

  “Why—”

  “Looks like this guy isn’t all right.”

  Following Bierce’s gaze, Jan flinched, and then immediately let out a gagging sound.

  The massive form of the sheriff lay on the ground. Rather than strangling him, their foe had chosen to do something else. His head, ripped from his broad shoulders, sat on the ground about a foot and a half closer to the two men than the lawman’s body. It was facing them.

  “Wish we could bury him, but we don’t have the time. We can have a funeral for him later. If we make it, that is.”

  “You’ll jinx us with talk like that,” Jan said, his body seeming to quiver with a sort of helplessness.

  “You scared?”

  “Hell, yeah. I can take care of myself against humans, but I’m no good when it comes to monsters.”

  The warrior grinned wryly. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

  “That’s my best point. We’re counting on you now, you old warrior. You’re our only hope.” When the mobster looked back at the rest of the party, his face was indeed pale. “At any rate, let’s get going.”

  The two men began to walk back to the rest of the party. Everyone was facing them. Weizmann, the Stows, Maria—their expressions all changed suddenly. The instant he recognized it as a look of fear, Bierce twisted his upper body around. He raised the arrow he still held in his left hand. But he didn’t get a chance to throw it.

  Behind him stood the faceless D. His wounds hadn’t been fatal. However, his body was enveloped in white smoke, and the tentacles that spilled from the hole in his face rained down on the ground. The broken tentacles had started to dissolve. A stark, silvery tip protruded from the chest of his black coat.

  When the body began to melt away and collapse as if it were hollow, the two of them saw the young man in black who stood there with naked steel in hand. This was the real one.

  Such awe and terror coursed through Jan’s body that he literally shook. But he didn’t even know what sort of terror it was.

  “We’re saved . . .” the mobster said, somehow managing to keep his knees from buckling.

  “You came back?” Bierce asked, returning the arrow to his quiver and ignoring Jan.

  “I kept right on going and ended up here,” D replied, sheathing his blade. And then, before Bierce could open his mouth again, the Hunter turned his back to him and started to walk away.

  “Wait,” Transport Officer Weizmann called out shrilly as he ran over to block D’s path. He’d given Franz Stow the suckling’s rope and a pistol to cover him. “I’m responsible for this group. I can’t allow you to behave in such a self-centered manner.”

  “I’m just passing through,” D said without halting.

  With that, the officer from the Capital backed away, saying, “There’s no telling what’s out there. It’s too dangerous to move around haphazardly.”

  “Then stay here.”

  “Forget about him, officer,” Bierce said in a resigned tone. “He’s a whole different breed from us. Let him go. All we have to do is follow along behind him.”

  “I can’t do that. I’m a public servant. And all your lives are my responsibility.”

  “So that means we’re all supposed to take orders from you, Mr. High-and-Mighty?” Jan sneered.

  “You got something to say, you son of a bitch?” the transport officer snarled, taking a big leap ba
ck. Covering more than ten feet, the jump even drew a small gasp from Bierce. And as Weizmann landed, he trained the threatening implement that had hung by his hip on D. Six thick barrels, each seemingly twenty millimeters in diameter, surrounded the center barrel of what appeared to be a .50 caliber gun. The ammo belt ran back into the cylinder on his back, which looked to hold an incredible fifty thousand rounds. The load that looked awkward on such a delicate man turned out to be a magazine.

  As Bierce let out a gasp of admiration, beside him Jan’s face went pale.

  “Hey, knock it off, man. I mean, delivery boy. Try talking this over, okay?”

  Anyone who knew D would’ve closed his eyes at this point, easily able to imagine the scene that was going to play out. This gorgeous young man didn’t allow anyone to turn a weapon on him.

  However, the situation took an unexpected turn.

  D halted.

  “Huh?” Jan exclaimed, his eyes going wide—apparently he’d pictured a deadly scene that was quite different.

  D remained motionless.

  The officer was perplexed. Though he had a terrible weapon leveled at the Hunter, the vision of beauty before him gave off such an eerie aura the officer forgot himself—he never would’ve thought the Hunter would face him empty handed. Weizmann’s fist was clenched, but he forgot to put enough power into his index finger to pull the trigger.

  D then raised his right hand.

  “What in the—” the transport officer cried, hugging his weapon close.

  “Don’t!” Jan shouted. They were dealing with D here. But now he pictured the young man being torn to shreds by gunfire.

  A black-gloved hand was slowly reaching for the hilt of his longsword.

  “Don’t do it! I’ll shoot!” Weizmann shouted at him. His face was masked in sweat. His finger had the trigger squeezed back almost to the limit. The intensity of the unearthly air that linked him and D threatened to knock the officer unconscious.

  D’s hand went for his weapon’s hilt. The ghastly air roiled from him like smoke from an explosion. Jan snorted and drew his broadsword, while the transport officer could only hang his head.

  The bullets didn’t fly.

  As D silently took his hand away from his sword’s hilt, everyone watched him as if frozen. The Hunter began to walk away. This time the transport officer didn’t stop him. He’d lost all desire to do so.

  “That was pathetic. That’s why you’re just a snot-nosed kid,” Jan spat at the stiffened officer, managing to hide his own trembling.

  Turning, he continued frankly, “Okay, let’s get going. We can leave our fearless leader here.”

  And with that, he started to walk away.

  Fingers like steel sank into Jan’s shoulder. The pain was so great he couldn’t even cry out.

  “What’ll we do, officer?” Bierce inquired.

  As if these words had broken the spell over him, Weizmann lowered his weapon and reeled a little.

  “Here I thought you were just a young fella with a short fuse. I’m glad you didn’t shoot,” Bierce said with a smile.

  “Of course I didn’t. I’m a police officer.”

  “You only shoot when you’re gonna be shot, then? So, what do we do?”

  Wiping the sweat from his face, Weizmann looked up at the sky. The blue was deepening. Night would probably set upon them without any twilight.

  “Let’s keep going like we were. For the time being, we’ll follow after him.”

  “For the time being, eh?”

  “Yes, for the time being. It’s my opinion that he’s headed in the same direction we are.”

  “I’ll second that,” the warrior said with a nod, and Jan spat on the ground.

  -

  II

  -

  At some point, the wasteland had become a valley. They hadn’t noticed it because of the fog that had sprung up some time ago. Though they all exchanged nervous glances, D melted into the milky whiteness as he advanced ahead of them confidently, and it was all they could do just to keep from losing sight of him. Suspicions that he might transform into a monster like that thing they saw earlier flitted through their minds, but they couldn’t think of anything else to do, so they just kept following along after the vision of beauty.

  The next thing they knew they were going down a gentle slope, and when they reached the bottom, all they could see was sheer cliffs. To their left ran a broad, silvery flow. The stream through the valley coursed rather swiftly, baring foamy tusks when it struck the rocks along its banks. When walking close to it, the members of the group found not only their legs dampened by the droplets of spray but their faces as well.

  “Come on, let’s take a little break already,” Maria called up to Weizmann, who was at the forefront of the party. “Mr. Stow can’t keep this up, and the kid’s not doing so well, either.”

  She was actually helping the old woman by lending her a shoulder to lean on. For the last hour, the elderly man and the boy had also been showing signs of exhaustion.

  Jan, who’d been covering the rear, ran over and caught Toto by the shoulder as the boy began to wobble then dropped down into a squat.

  “Damned kid. That’s what you get for playing tough. Okay, climb up here,” he said, presenting his back to the boy.

  Turning his face away in a snit, the boy started to walk off. Time and again Jan had offered to help, and each time the boy had refused with the same attitude. After two or three steps, he fell.

  Racing over, Jan scooped him up and said, “You should’ve said something. Look, I know you don’t like me, but having you falling all over the place will just slow us down. We’re bringing you along, whether you like it or not. Now climb up here.”

  No sooner had he forced the boy onto his back than Franz, who was standing right in front of him, collapsed.

  “This ain’t good. Hey, delivery boy!” he yelled to the officer, but Weizmann was in charge of the suckling. He was in no position to lend a shoulder to the elderly man.

  Merely glaring back at the mobster, he shouted to the blurry figure up ahead, “Hey, D—I need to talk to you!”

  This accomplished nothing. The figure of unearthly beauty grew fainter, dwindling in the fog.

  “Officer, do you have any money?” Bierce asked.

  “Money? I’ve got some to cover expenses while I bring this clown in.”

  “How much?”

  “A good five thousand dalas.”

  “I can’t say that it’ll be enough, but it’s better than losing our guide. Hey, D!” the warrior called into the mysterious fog. “It seems Officer Weizmann wants to hire you.”

  The man in question, shocked, was about to say something when the warrior told him, “Well, you don’t want that suckling to get away, do you?

  “Your pay will be four thousand dalas. We want you to take care of a Noble lady in waiting who’s after the transport officer. Apparently she’s gonna try to bump him off.”

  The warrior finished saying this before Weizmann could interrupt him, and then focused his gaze up ahead. Apparently the others had heard as well, because they all had the same intent look in their eyes.

  The fog continued to eddy, and there was no response from D. It looked as if the fog had swallowed the warrior’s words up, and weariness and discouragement spread across the faces of all.

  Just then, D appeared less than five yards from Bierce. A stir went through the group.

  “Okay, time to talk business. Make this work,” Bierce said, giving the officer’s back a push. “I’ll take this guy from you.”

  Though the warrior reached for the suckling’s rope, Weizmann knocked his hand away. He didn’t want anyone else doing his job.

  “The state of affairs is just as he described. Will you take the job?”

  “On two conditions,” D said.

  “What?”

  “I have work up ahead. That gets taken care of first.”

  “I suppose that’s okay,” the transport officer replied with an
unenthusiastic nod.

  “One other thing—payment in advance,” D said.

  An expression of relief skimmed across the officer’s face. Still gripping the suckling’s rope, he took a purse from his pocket and put four of the thousand-dala coins in D’s left hand. “Wha—” the officer exclaimed, eyes bulging.

  “What is it?” Bierce asked, an inquisitive look on his face, but the officer replied that it was nothing and put his change purse away.

  Letting out a breath, he said, “The sun will be going down soon. We’ll have to camp out. Watch over all of us.”

  “I signed on to slay a Noble maidservant out to get you,” D replied.

  “Yes, but she said she’d kill everyone around me. They’re all in danger.”

  Bierce had to fight the urge to grin. He found it a very clever plan.

  “The deal’s off,” D said, putting his hand into his coat pocket. Four thousand dalas wasn’t nearly enough.

  “Wait! If you get us safely to the Capital, you’ll be paid more. From the state treasury. Guaranteed.”

  D held his arm out, and glittering bits fell to the ground with a mellifluous sound. Gold coins. He turned his back to them without another word.

  “Wait!” Weizmann called out to him, but there was nothing more he could do.

  “Excuse me . . .”

  Though the voice sounded as if it might’ve been obliterated by the wind, it seemed to have reached D’s ears.

  The Hunter halted and turned.

  “Hey, now!”

  “Now, just a—”

  Jan and Maria had called out in surprise. Squatting, Jan let the boy Toto climb down. He’d started squirming on the mobster’s back. His frail legs still seemed exhausted, and they looked terribly unreliable as he began to walk. The boy went a step closer to D than the transport officer.

  “Here—add this to the payment,” Toto said, raising his little fist.

  Gorgeous dark eyes of unfathomable depth caught the copper coin that rested on the boy’s soft palm.

  “Sheesh! Ten dalas!” Jan remarked with disgust, but his words became a cry of pain. Maria had driven her elbow into his solar plexus. Her face was tinged with strong emotion.