Vampire Hunter D Volume 18- Fortress of the Elder God

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  “If you’re all done, let’s go,” D said, already walking away.

  Pushing the cart as she followed him toward the elevator, Maria asked the question that was suddenly in her head: “Say, why’d you come down here anyway?”

  D had left Maria and the others to go slay the god. Whether he’d succeeded in that or failed, it didn’t make sense for him to be on the floor with the storerooms. And he didn’t appear to be injured, either.

  Though she received no reply, Maria quickly understood. Though seemingly made of ice—if not the very essence of winter itself—the young man in black had come in search of medicine. And not for himself. Most likely, it’d been for the three people in the treatment center.

  “You’re not all bad, are you?” she finally remarked. She thought D might’ve heard her, but he said nothing as he pressed the elevator button and got in.

  I wonder if he’s just shy, Maria thought, after the elevator had stopped.

  The doors opened.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in!” she said in a prickly tone that bounced off the warrior who stood there—Bierce.

  “Looking for medicine?” D asked.

  “I just got back to the room and heard the story from Weizmann.”

  Though somewhat late, he’d apparently decided to go help Maria. For her part, Maria was cheered by the thought that there was at least one other real man around. However, when the three of them headed toward the treatment center, the door burst open and Weizmann came flying out.

  Seeing how pale his face was, Bierce inquired, “What is it?”

  The response was immediate.

  “The suckling has disappeared!”

  -

  II

  -

  According to Officer Weizmann, up until the point Bierce came back from his check of the area, heard that Maria had gone off in search of medicine, and left the room, the suckling had been there.

  “I made certain I kept my eye on him the whole time I was talking to Bierce. You know, just in case. And the suckling was right there. But after watching Bierce go, I turned around and he was gone.”

  Jan reported that he hadn’t seen anything. The recovery room had been searched, but he wasn’t there. In brief, the suckling had suddenly vanished.

  “Think the god spirited him away?” Jan asked, derision in his voice. The question was directed at D. The mobster remained skeptical about this god business.

  D’s reply made everyone tense, the mobster included.

  “That’s right. The suckling is tainted with Noble blood. It wouldn’t be that strange for a god worshiped by the Nobility to sympathize with him.”

  “You’ve got a point there,” Bierce said with a wry grin. “The problem is what comes next. What’ll become of the suckling?”

  “I don’t know. But the next time you see him, you’ll have to assume he’s the enemy. Put him down without any discussion.”

  “Hold it right there!” Weizmann objected. “That suckling’s a test subject bound for the Capital. Killing him out of hand isn’t an option. I won’t have it.”

  “You can forget that,” D shot back, his tone infused with a new level of coldness. “From the way he disappeared, he won’t come back unchanged.”

  “How do you know that?” Jan asked. “You’re telling us all these things like some know-it-all. Instead of running your mouth, you should be out destroying that god thing of yours. You say this, that, and the other thing about the suckling, but hell, you’re a stinking human/Noble—”

  The air froze. And while it lay still and cold, a hard slap resounded.

  “What the hell was that for?” Jan cried, one hand cradling the cheek that’d been slapped and the other reaching for his broadsword.

  “Okay, go for it. If you can, that is,” Maria said, standing before Jan with arms spread wide. She looked at D. “I’ve got something to say here. While you were here all safe and sound, he went to the storeroom not knowing what he might run into and found us some medicine. Thanks to him, Toto and the Stows are sleeping peacefully. Don’t just act like a tough guy when it suits you, you worthless turd!”

  “Why, you stupid slut!”

  As he said this, he drew his broadsword, which flew up with a delightful sound.

  “Damn!” Jan said, holding his right hand as he crouched. It was numb. He could tell it’d take two or three days to recover from the blow. It wasn’t a strike any human could have made.

  Lowering his sword, D looked around the group and said, “Tell the three in the recovery room what I’m telling you now. If you see the suckling, kill him on the spot.”

  -

  Though the sun went down, the suckling didn’t come back, and there was neither an attack from outside nor an assault by the assassins within the fortress. Holding an unsettling variety of murderous intentions, the darkness remained silent.

  After eating some of the compressed rations, Mr. Stow didn’t speak to his wife but rather lay down on his bed. The night scared him. He was afraid to sleep, too. Maybe he’d never wake again. When he thought about it that way, it was rather frightening.

  Suddenly, the voice rang in his ears. It’s about time I changed you.

  Mr. Stow’s body trembled. He quivered with delight. He was ready.

  “What should I do?” he inquired in a low voice. And he immediately got an answer.

  D was in the corridor. He was prepared for another attack by the assassins or a counterstrike by the two guardians.

  “There probably won’t be a push from outside until those assassin clowns get some results. If all goes well, they could get locked in battle and kill each other off. We should just wait for that to happen,” said the hoarse voice that could be heard from the vicinity of his left hand.

  Although there wasn’t a single light, the outlines of objects could be barely discerned. And D’s handsome features seemed to radiate a light of their own.

  “Sensing my approach, both the god and the Sacred Ancestor’s army reawakened. Both consider me their foe. If I were them, I’d take care of me first.”

  “In that case, why don’t you just get as far away from these folks as you can? They might get caught in your wake. Then again, I suppose since they came in with you, they’d be the god’s enemies, too. So your foes would go after them just like they’re after you. It’s worrying about stuff like that that’s got you hanging around here. Not really what I’d expect from you. Oof!”

  Still applying strength to the left hand he’d crushed closed, D focused all his senses and listened as the still darkness drew breath. Suddenly, he turned around.

  Toto stood in front of the treatment center. He was pointing straight ahead. The urgent look on his face made D turn again.

  At the far end of the corridor, two figures could be seen. Mr. Stow and the suckling. Before D could take a step forward, they vanished.

  There was a thud against the floor. D quickly went over to the fallen Toto and scooped him up in his arms. There was no need to place his hand against the boy’s brow. Through the shirt Maria had put on the boy after it dried, the Hunter could feel the blistering heat of his skin.

  “He’s 107 degrees. Probably due to that astral projection,” the hoarse voice remarked as D carried the boy into the treatment center.

  -

  On learning that Mr. Stow was missing from the recovery room, Mrs. Stow didn’t appear particularly surprised.

  “He had a long list of grievances, that one did. Honeyed words would lead him right out of here. But I think he’ll be back presently. Don’t trouble yourselves over it.”

  -

  Ultimately a battle did unfold. The floor in front of the massive doors that D had tried unsuccessfully to enter took on silvery stains that immediately spread, forming five figures devoid of eyes, noses, and mouths, who then rose smoothly to their feet. They charged ahead like a wave of light. They didn’t move their legs, yet they continued forward without stopping. The five figures joined together in a single form
. Crashing against the crease where the two doors met, the mass fell flat as if it were water, spread out, and quickly resumed its original shape. Though it tried to slip through the crack in liquid form, it wasn’t successful.

  Perhaps the silvery stain had given up, because it slid off in the direction from which it’d come, and then halted. About sixty feet away stood a figure in black. It was unclear whether the stain recognized this as a perfect double of D. The silvery figures that quickly emerged from it raised hands that’d been transformed into weapons, seeking to slay the young man in black. When they closed to within six feet of him, he turned away from them. The back that carried his longsword turned a silvery hue. The instant the swords, axes, and scythes of the unflappable silver figures sank into him, the attackers reeled, finding terrible wounds had opened in the same locations on them. For the unholy ability that had reflected D’s deadly attack back at him had once again been put to use.

  All of the figures dissolved on the floor. As the silver circle lay there like a puddle of water, the guardian walked over to it in silence. It was a heartbeat later that the stain flew up. It was a disk—but its edges were honed as sharp as any enchanted blade, making it a circular implement of death. A gleam of light lanced through the chest of the figure that had just mimicked its appearance.

  When he landed on the floor about thirty feet away, the silver figure’s upper body began to slide off his lower half. Falling to the floor, it became a silvery semicircle, while the legs left standing also took the same shape and dropped to the floor.

  A second later, the silver mass that had transformed into a weapon to slay its opponent split in two without a sound. Neither of them moved an inch, and after a short while had passed, a pair of figures appeared on the scene. Peering down at the silver remains with an expression so unsettling it defied description was the suckling. The old man behind him remained facing straight ahead with a vacant look in his eyes. Grinning savagely, the suckling took the old man by the hand and walked over to the iron doors.

  Greeeee, screamed rusted gears. Greeeee, greeeee, greeeeeeeeeeeeee!

  It was a tortured chorus that would make anyone want to cover their ears—like the cry of hinges that had rusted quietly for a million years. It was the pain of their iron flesh tearing.

  Just look. The iron doors even D couldn’t part were now opening.

  -

  Sensing a presence, Maria opened her eyes and was shocked. On her right was Weizmann’s face. She was on a bed in the recovery room. The men were supposed to be sleeping out in the treatment center.

  “What’s the meaning of this? Did you think you were gonna get lucky?”

  “Not so loud,” the transport officer whispered. His eyes darted to Mrs. Stow, then Toto, then back to Maria.

  “What do you want, then? I swear, I’ll yell so everyone can hear me. When officials from the Capital are involved in a scandal, they get shipped out to the Frontier, you know.”

  “I’ve had it,” Weizmann said with a heavy sigh. “After letting the suckling get away, the career I was building up for myself will be driven into the ground. When I come back empty handed, I can look forward to exactly what you described.”

  “So, what’s that to me? You’re starting to annoy me, mister, you know that?”

  “I want you to make me feel better.”

  “Excuse me?” Maria replied in disbelief. But at the same time, she’d figured that was what he was after.

  “I’m finished anyway. And knowing that, it doesn’t matter what I do now. The least I can do is get one night’s worth of comfort.”

  “Okay, baby,” Maria said, biting back her contempt as she stroked the head of the fast-tracked official from the Capital. Gently bringing her face to his cheek, she whispered into his ear in a low, steamy voice. “I’ll show you pleasure like you’ve never seen before. But it won’t be cheap.”

  “You want money?” the flustered Weizmann said.

  Maria was dumbfounded. “Of course! Your happiness alone isn’t gonna put money in my pocket. You don’t get something for nothing—that’s the way the world works.”

  “How much?”

  “That’s up to you. Ten dalas minimum. Special tricks will run you more.”

  “Okay,” Weizmann said with a nod.

  Suddenly, the transport officer climbed on top of her. A vicious elbow landed on the side of his head.

  “We can’t do it here. Outside! Out!”

  “But that’s no good. The enemy’s prowling around out there.”

  Undeterred by the elbowing, he reached for her thighs and breasts. He couldn’t conceal his true nature.

  “It’s a dangerous thing when a person throws their vanity out the window.”

  As she pushed his hands away, Maria wondered what she was going to do. They couldn’t very well do it right there. But he was right about the danger outside.

  “Okay,” she groaned.

  At that instant, someone said almost the same thing in her head.

  -

  III

  -

  “What’s that?” D’s left hand cried out in a low voice. More than surprise or fear, its tone was one of fulfilled expectation.

  “The voice of the god.”

  D shot a glance at the door, then broke into a run. His goal was obvious.

  The change came all at once. The ceiling and floor switched places, and the walls laughed out loud as they stretched and shrank. Every stone in the floor flipped over in a second, and the stairway became an infinite spiral spinning into space. Going down the staircase would bring you to the floor above, while racing up it took you down into the dungeon. And inhuman cries and groans filled the air like a symphony.

  “Looks like one of the assassins managed to wound the god,” the left hand remarked with amusement as they traversed a stairway that twisted and turned through the darkness. “It probably lost the ability to wipe out the forces outside—its ‘arm,’ as it were. If so, they’ll launch an all-out attack tomorrow.”

  Unexpectedly the stairs beneath him gave way. D was falling through the darkness, along with the stone steps that had climbed into the sky. The Milky Way swirled in the distance. His left hand reached up over his head. The tiny mouth that opened in the palm of his hand began sucking in air with a whistling sound. Before long, the air it consumed took on a color, becoming the darkness itself. Even the stars of the Milky Way were swallowed up. Like a curtain being torn down, the darkness was squeezed into a single stream that disappeared into the maw, leaving an ashen space behind it.

  As D continued to fall, four sets of footprints left white trails far off in the distance. The footsteps were falling right along with him.

  “Oh, I see. You chose this space on purpose, eh?” the hoarse voice said with admiration. “From here, we can get closer to it. But the energy coefficient will become an imaginary number. One or the other is gonna be absorbed by the Dirac sea.”

  “Link me to where those footprints are headed,” D said brusquely.

  “That’s crazy! The Laplace connection is still too weak. If you push it, you’ll be the one who gets banished to the negative zone.”

  “I underestimated them. Link me right away.”

  Indecipherable curses shot through the gray world. And D dissolved into that same hue.

  -

  He was standing on a stone floor. The room had been made from enormous boulders. But the floor wasn’t a tightly fitted pattern of hand-worked stone. No lavishly frescoed ceiling or walls existed here. Rough-hewn boulders had been piled haphazardly, distorting all balance and order in the fortress. And it was swimming in blue light.

  Turning, D saw huge iron doors. Those same doors. And they were open so that anyone might come or go as they pleased. Someone had made it through them.

  “The assassins from outside took a different dimension there,” the left hand said. “Meaning what they encounter there will be others in league with the god.”

  Whether that conjured an image i
n D’s brain of the suckling and Mr. Stow walking away was unclear.

  “It’s still squawking, eh?”

  His hand was referring to the continuing screams. Screams that could be heard from the depths of the encircling darkness. They weren’t echoes—they were coming from between the iron doors.

  “Apparently it’s fallen back.”

  The stone walls around D writhed. Space itself was warping with the god’s pain.

  D advanced without saying a word. Stretching on forever, the stony dungeon was uninhabited. Eventually the walls and ceiling were lost from view. D merely followed the voice. A stone plain sealed away in darkness—and D was a traveler there.

  “Whoever he is, that assassin’s pretty good. That someone other than you could manage to get in here, let alone deal the god some—what is it?”

  Halting, D shot a look up ahead.

  The floor was quaking. A rumbling passed through the ground.

  In the depths of the darkness, something colossal and pale wriggled. A hundred yards ahead of him, it twisted and thrashed like the tail of a dying snake. As the Hunter drew closer, it became clear that it was a tentacle. The jolts to the floor were violent. If it’d been striking frequently and with full force instead of merely writhing, D might not have been able to stand. The tentacle, glowing with phosphorescence, had been severed cleanly. Nearly perfectly circular, the cut was ten feet in diameter, while the end of the tentacle stretched far, far into the darkness and out of sight.

  “It’s gotta be three miles long. Can’t believe it’s been sliced straight through,” the hoarse voice remarked in amazement, for this was part of the god.

  D’s hair swayed. The wind was blowing past him.

  “What’s this?” the left hand gasped.

  The wind was gradually gathering force.

  “This ain’t good. The god’s cries of pain have become a wind. Run for it!”

  From off in the distance, a sound like a stirring crowd could be heard approaching. The hem of the Hunter’s pitch-black coat flapped so hard it seemed it would be torn to pieces.

  “Run for it!”

  Moving at a velocity of more than two thousand miles per hour, the wind assailed D’s location ten seconds later.