Vampire Hunter D: Dark Road Parts One and Two

by Dark Road (Parts 1

  “Wh-wh-what in the . . .”

  “There’s no air here fit for human beings. No doubt the aliens who invaded this place changed it to mirror their own world. But relax—now you’ll be fine in either.”

  Sergei looked around through teary eyes. They were right in the middle of the plain. Here and there lay the wreckage of what seemed to be towers and combat machinery. All of them took shapes beyond anything Sergei could’ve imagined.

  “The aliens’ weaponry,” the hoarse voice said. “This whole area was their forward base. They eventually had to pull out, but up against the Nobility, they did well to get this far. Hey, D—what do you say to poking around to see if we find the secret of the general’s power?”

  “How?” said the gorgeous voice that hadn’t rung in Sergei’s ears for some time.

  “Go into that building behind you. It’s the operations center. You can control the remaining weaponry.”

  Changing direction, the man and the Hunter entered the iron fortress to their rear. The wind struck their backs, and a black metal wall loomed before them. When D collided with it, its surface rippled, flowing over him like water. The same happened with Sergei.

  The hoarse voice said something. The sounds were utterly impossible to make with human vocal cords; it may have been an alien language. Suddenly their field of view widened. Everything seemed melted in this space. There wasn’t a single straight line anywhere. All was black and stagnant; no amount of effort could give it any sense of depth. There wasn’t one device or item there that Sergei could understand. The walls and floor were warped like some cephalopod, yet at the same time seemed unrelentingly hard. Recesses in the floor were filled by ash gray forms. A number of lengthy appendages stretched from them.

  Are those hands? Feet? Sergei thought, feeling something cold on the nape of his neck. This is the operations center, right? Are those things in the hollows alien remains?

  “Hey, you—pull that stiff out of there and get in the hole. The size should adjust to fit you. Your head, your toes—any part will do. If you don’t, you won’t fall under the protection of the defense circuits here in the control room.”

  It went without saying that Sergei hastened to comply. When he actually tried to do this, he found the recess oddly long and narrow and was puzzled as to how D had managed to get into one. Having been told that any part would do, he shoved his right arm in up to the shoulder. There was no change. It remained hard.

  “That seems fine,” the hoarse voice said. “Now, shall we show them what the aliens had up their sleeves?”

  After a short pause, Sergei groaned. A flash of light had exploded in his eyes. Something was happening in his brain. It was boiling. His brain was on fire.

  “Aaaah!”

  His whole body bent backward in pain, and every bone in his spine creaked at once. In exchange for his punishment, he was granted vision. His field of view had widened to three hundred sixty degrees.

  It’s an attack, said the hoarse voice that rang through his head. Each and every word seared itself into his brain. As everything became jumbled and melted together, his eyes alone moved across the landscape. Black lumps rose on the plain of steel, swiftly taking the shape of flying machines that zipped, one after another, toward the horizon. That was the scene that was actually taking place outside. The vast plain was a factory for producing fighter aircraft for the aliens, a hangar, and a runway.

  Flight distance 798442891. Still no sign of the enemy, the hoarse voice said. No, strike that—up ahead, aircraft sighted at 39, 41, 66. This should be fun. Okay, launch the attack.

  This side’s fighters numbered exactly a thousand. The installation’s weapons were antiproton cannons and missiles. In the darkness, thousands of balls of light sprang into being, and then vanished again. It reminded Sergei of a scene he’d witnessed at a festival in some northern village.

  All shots were direct hits, the hoarse voice informed him, quickly adding, Ah, but they didn’t even make a dent. Come to mention it, while we know the position and speed of the targets, we don’t know the size or shape. What were those alien bastards attacking all those years ago?

  Here they come, D’s voice said. It was composed. Like a crystal-clear night.

  In some unknown spot up ahead, points of light formed—and just as Sergei realized this, his whole field of view, his very brain, was engulfed by white light, and he lost consciousness.

  __

  When he came to, D was carrying him on his back. They were outside, on the plain of steel. And only the wind blew at them from the distance. He looked back. There was nothing. Had D covered that much ground while the man on his back was unconscious? No, Sergei got the feeling that from the very start, all of it had been a dream.

  Suddenly, he was dropped. While Sergei groaned from landing on his ass, D walked forward without saying anything to him.

  “Wait up!”

  When he managed to get up and go after the Hunter, he noticed that he felt no pains aside from the fall he’d just taken. That was probably due to D’s left hand.

  “Hey, explain it to me. What the hell happened?”

  “The base was annihilated,” D said without ever halting. In his own voice.

  “Took a strike from the storeroom’s defensive systems,” the hoarse voice then said. “Leave it to that Gaskell. This place will probably be safe until the end of the world. It’s no surprise the aliens took to their heels after the first battle.”

  The man was speechless.

  “So, it looks like we’re left to our own devices in the end. We’ll reach our destination soon. You’d best brace yourself for it.”

  “Soon? What about those defensive systems? Won’t they do anything to us? Say, where are we now anyway?”

  “About ten times further than we were when that fighter was destroyed. And the defensive systems—they won’t do a thing.”

  The pendant on D’s chest gave off a blue light.

  “Nothing? Why not?”

  In lieu of an answer, D halted and turned.

  Even Sergei could make out the human form that stood in the distance on the plain.

  “That’s . . .”

  “Him again? If it isn’t a rotten Noble who hangs around whether it’s night or day—Baron Schuma,” the hoarse voice declared. “Looks like he was able to come this far because the defensive systems were stopped. What’ll you do? Gonna take him out?”

  The voice was carried off into the darkness.

  The baron was approaching. Displaying not even a mote of murderous intent toward this new foe, the gorgeous Hunter awaited him impassively, as if it were fate.

  __

  III

  __

  At a spot about fifteen feet away, the baron halted. His cape fluttered in the black wind.

  “I find you at last,” the baron said with an elegant bow. “You’ve done well to make it this far. The average Noble would’ve long since been reduced to his constituent atoms, you know. D—who are you?”

  “What brings you here?” D inquired. His tone suited the steely plain. It was heavy with death.

  “I had intended to just keep going straight to General Gaskell. It would be embarrassing to be tardy. However, along the way, I had some communication from the general while I was slumbering in my carriage. He told me there was a Vampire Hunter of unearthly beauty in the village of Jelkin. And he wanted him destroyed. Such are the circumstances behind my hasty return.”

  “Gaskell has come back to life?”

  “The invitation bore his name and was in his handwriting,” the baron said, tapping the end of his cane to his forehead.

  “Who else received an invitation from him?”

  “Unfortunately, that I don’t know.”

  “Why were you summoned?” D asked, his questions direct.

  “I really couldn’t say. No, I’m not trying to hide anything from you. In fact, the agreement that I would respond when summoned dates back to the time of my father.”

 
The baron fully expected that D would accept this. But the gorgeous young man maintained his silence.

  Left with no choice, the baron tapped his walking stick against his forehead again and continued, “About a hundred years ago my father entered into an agreement with the general that if a signed invitation from him were to arrive, I would go to him without any questions. The existence of a diary recording that agreement was also noted in the invitation. It further stated that until the general explicitly told me I was finished, I was to do exactly as he commanded.”

  “That’s a raw deal.”

  “It certainly is,” the baron said with a thin smile. “When and why did the general come back to life, and why has he summoned me—these are all questions of great interest to me. But D, I must ask you, why have you come out to this repository?”

  Sergei suddenly stared at the young man’s dashing profile. That was the very thing he’d most wanted to know.

  “Records were left here of the battle between the general and the forces from the Capital. Is that what you were after?”

  Nothing from the Hunter.

  “Since days of old, no personage among the Nobility has been as shrouded in mystery as General Gaskell. To commemorate his triumph over the forces from the Capital, he built a repository here and sealed in it an account of his life. That’s what you were after, isn’t it? But why?”

  “Gaskell will be an obstacle to my journey.”

  “Your journey?”

  “You must’ve seen the transport wagon.”

  The baron’s eyes bulged.

  “You can’t be serious,” he said. “It can’t be—I’d noticed that you were acting as a sort of guard for the transport party, but did you seriously break in here just to discharge that duty—to protect a bunch of lowly human delivery men wandering the Frontier? And you mean to tell me my role is to dispose of a Hunter charged with such a boring obligation? Is that really the case?”

  As he let out a groan, the baron covered his face with one hand. The gesture was so exaggerated it seemed as if acting might’ve been a hobby for him.

  “Oh, D, what a foolish thing you’ve done. How pointless it was to come back for you. But forget about all that. D, would you be so kind as to turn back now?”

  “Turn back and do what?”

  “If you desist from raiding the repository, there shall be no need for me to slay you here. I should like to put that off for another time. You see, watching you do battle back at the station, I was a tad impressed.”

  “It may be that the general’s desire to have me slain has nothing to do with the repository and its contents.”

  On hearing this, the baron narrowed his gaze. “Now that you mention it, I heard nothing about you going after his storeroom. Although I knew you were in the area, even I didn’t have your exact location. Why, then, would the general be out to get you?” Here his eyes grew thread thin as he muttered, “Is that to mean the girl was sent here by the general?”

  “Girl?”

  At the hoarse voice, the baron donned a dubious expression.

  “While I was paying a call on the village, there appeared to me a young lady who led me here. Although she quickly vanished.”

  “What was she like?” This time it was D that spoke.

  The baron explained.

  After he’d finished, a hoarse voice from the vicinity of D’s left hand said, “It’s Rosaria, ain’t it? But what happened to the girl? To make her lead a Noble, one who’s out to get you, right to us, I mean. I guess the general must’ve brainwashed her or something.”

  “What now?” D asked. His question was directed at the baron. The air froze.

  The baron shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I’d completely forgotten. I was ordered to slay you. However, as I just said, I wouldn’t have to if you’d be good enough to turn back now.”

  “You’d go back on your father’s promise?”

  “I have my own way of doing things, you see. At my age, I see no particular reason to be concerned with the relationship between my own father and a general I’ve never laid eyes upon.”

  “We’re already on our way,” D said.

  “Very well, then,” the baron replied. And that was all. That alone was enough to catapult the pair into a battle to the death.

  Sergei wanted to leave the scene but was stiff with tension. He couldn’t move his legs.

  D’s hands hung naturally by his sides, while the baron pointed the tip of his stick at the Hunter’s chest. What would arise from the current standoff?

  “Ah!” the baron gasped quietly, taking his eyes off his opponent. D followed suit after sensing a presence behind him. Twenty to twenty-five feet away stood a pale young woman.

  “Rosaria,” said the hoarse voice. D wasn’t one to speak other people’s names. “I’d thought she’d fallen victim to the general’s old tricks—but it looks like that ain’t the case, eh?”

  “Is that the girl?” D asked the baron.

  “Indeed. Is she some acquaintance of yours? How ironic that she would lead one who seeks your life right to you.”

  “Help,” said a feeble voice that drifted with the wind. “Save me, D!”

  “Where did you go?” D inquired. “And where are you going now?”

  “Help,” Rosaria repeated. Her pale face was colored with grief and fear. “I don’t know how this happened to me—help me.”

  D stepped forward.

  “Wait,” the baron said, stopping him. Lowering his walking stick, he swiftly stepped in front of D, making no attempt to disguise the gleam of curiosity in his eyes as he stared at Rosaria. “Hmm. I didn’t realize General Gaskell was an expert at making space vanish. Wait a moment, and I shall help you.”

  “Can you do it?” the hoarse voice inquired.

  “I’ll thank you not to speak in that odd voice. Step back.”

  Raising his stick, the baron slowly began to move the tip of it as if to strike the space. “First, we have to find a weak spot. Here’s one.”

  In the blink of an eye, his stick came to a gentle stop at a spot three feet in front of him and about six feet off the ground.

  “I’ll seal it,” he said. His cane came away immediately. “Done. Next—”

  The walking stick pierced Rosaria.

  “The girl herself has undoubtedly become the passageway through space. She must be fixed in this location.”

  The tip of the stick gave off a blue light.

  “No!” Rosaria exclaimed.

  It soon became apparent that her cry wasn’t directed toward the baron’s actions. The surface of the ground rose in snakelike shapes that tried to swallow the baron headfirst. A second later they broke into a million pieces, revealing the baron and his upraised cane.

  More cylinders also attacked D. Perhaps God was more repulsed by the thought of them touching D than the Hunter himself, for before D’s longsword flashed out, a bolt of lightning flew down and shattered the head of every last steely black serpent.

  “D!” Rosaria called out. Through her form, the scenery behind her became visible.

  “Oh, no!”

  Before the baron could jab her with his cane, Rosaria faded away.

  “I’m waiting, D. Waiting—”

  Only her voice remained on the plain of steel.

  “Too late, was I?” the baron said disappointedly as he made a swipe with his cane.

  “That’s an unusual walking stick,” D remarked. “They say Gaskell got a hint about how to move through space from someone. Would that be your father?”

  “Well informed, aren’t you?” the baron said, widening his eyes in feigned surprise. “More than ever, I see you are no ordinary Hunter. But alas, you’re mistaken. The technique didn’t come from my father. It came from me.”

  How many centuries—or millennia—had this man actually lived?

  Smacking the palm of his left hand with the stick, he said, “It’s also thanks to General Gaskell that this contains circuits to modify and repair the defensive
systems.”

  The Nobleman’s body glowed pale blue—it’d been pierced by lightning. Letting out a slight sigh, the baron raised his walking stick high above his head. The light was drawn into the end of it. One bolt of lightning carried a billion volts. And all of the energy from the flashes that fell in rapid succession was effortlessly absorbed by the baron’s cane.

  “This is a waste of time. Might I ask you to leave this to me?” the baron inquired, looking askance at D.

  “Good enough.”

  “In that case . . .”

  Holding the stick in his right hand parallel to the ground, the baron stood ready and aimed it at the distant horizon.

  “Modification circuits to full power,” the baron said, the words coming like an announcement.

  The wind that crossed the plain grew more violent. D’s coat and the baron’s cape streamed out, and in the heavens there echoed a roar unlike any sound on earth.

  “You’d best exercise caution,” the baron declared, his eyes squinting in the wind. “The defenses are increasing their power, and they aim to slay me. Though I have every confidence in the modification circuits, I can’t say what’ll happen in the end. There is cause to fear you might become embroiled in this. If one of us is injured, our showdown shall have to wait for another time. Are you amenable to that?”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  “Excellent. Well, then . . .”

  At the far reaches of the plain, a pale light sparked. Glittering like sunlight, it wavered, tapered, and took the shape of a woman.

  “That’s . . .”

  Sensing something strange, Sergei backed away. As a living organism, his sense of life or death was telling him to run for all he was worth.

  The woman who was untold thousands of miles away could be seen as clearly as if she were right before them, and they could also tell she was the same size as themselves. The woman raised both hands in the air and yelled something. Was it a scream? It might just as easily have been a song.

  “Oof!”

  Clutching his heart, the baron fell to one knee on the ground. He’d just experienced an incredible pain. At precisely the same time, D also reeled.