Vampire Hunter D: Dark Road Parts One and Two

by Dark Road (Parts 1

  “Say what? So, you mean to tell me he’s just a horny bastard?”

  “Could be,” D said. Because it came in his usual tone, Gordo and Sergei couldn’t hold in their laughter, and even Juke grinned wryly on the table.

  “No, it’s a fact,” Sergei said as he began laying the contents of his own personal medical kit out on the table. “The more you look at General Gaskell, the more you see what a unique individual he was. Actually, when they take a survey of those studying the ancient Nobility, he always comes in second for ‘Noble of interest,’ with third place not even coming close. And that’s not all. In the category of ‘Noble you’d most like to meet’ he also comes in second every time. Incidentally, there isn’t even a third place for that one. No one even wants to see any other Nobility.”

  “Second place with a bullet, eh? Who got first?” Juke inquired in a low tone. It was immediately apparent he was fighting back pain.

  Trying to keep his own expression from looking strained, Sergei answered, “The Sacred Ancestor in both cases.”

  Seeming to accept that, Juke said, “I might’ve known. But he went to war with the Capital, which acted on the Sacred Ancestor’s will. Were they on bad terms or something?”

  “No, every book on the subject says they were amicable.”

  “Then those worthless books belong in the trash,” Gordo spat.

  Just then, an unpleasant sound escaped Juke’s throat and his entire body went into convulsions.

  “Damn—‘the poison of the dead’ has reached his heart. It’s going too fast,” Sergei said, worrying his lip.

  “Do something, you damn quack. If not, I’m gonna—”

  “Shut up!” Sergei shouted, his eyes closed. Quickly opening them, he pulled two bottles out of his medicine case, took a high-pressure injector out of the autoclave, and filled it with liquid from both bottles. The swift and steady movements of his hands left Gordo gazing at his profile in amazement. Without even a momentary pause Sergei pressed the tip of a drug-filled syringe into the vein in Juke’s left arm, and less than two seconds after the high-pressure piston went into action the agony drained from the man’s face. His sharp, shallow breaths quickly returned to normal.

  Bringing away the hand that’d been checking the man’s pulse, Sergei let out a deep breath and said, “That should hold him for the time being.” Apparently the breath wasn’t one of relief. “However, since it’s reached his heart, there’s nothing more I can do for him. So—”

  As his colleague was about to sink into a sea of his own distress, Gordo hurled his rage at him like a boulder. “Then wouldn’t we have been better off taking his arm off from the start? Well?”

  Sergei gave a firm shake of his head. “At that point, it wouldn’t have mattered. But the poison spreading that fast—that was my mistake.”

  “If we could all get away with calling everything a mistake, we wouldn’t need lawmen!” Gordo said, recalling an old saying. “So, what did you plan on doing? We lose even one man now and we’ll be in a world of trouble. There’s a ton of folks out there waiting for us to deliver our goods.”

  “There is a way,” said Sergei.

  “Oh, really?”

  “There’s a kind of herb that has the same components as the antidote for the poison of the dead. If we could get hold of some—but at this rate, Juke might only last a day.”

  “Where is it? Smack dab in the middle of the garden at Gaskell’s castle?”

  “It’s in the middle of the inner courtyard at Gaskell’s castle.”

  Gordo’s eyes bugged out.

  “Sorry, but you two will have to look after Juke. I’ll go get it,” said Sergei.

  “Oh, my!” a voice from the vicinity of D’s left hand exclaimed, but no one noticed.

  “Are you an idiot or something? Just how in the hell do you plan on tackling the second most popular Noble? You’re not a reporter from the Capital going up there for an interview, you know!”

  “I’ll think of something along the way, I suppose.”

  “You’ll just lose another man,” D said, his words drawing the eyes of both men.

  “But at this rate—”

  “Rosaria’s also at Gaskell’s castle. If I get the herb for the antidote and destroy Gaskell, that’ll be the end of all of this.”

  “Uh, I suppose so,” Gordo conceded with a reluctant nod.

  “Hire me.”

  “What?”

  Though the turbaned man was astonished, Sergei’s face was suffused with joy. “That’s right—we’ve got D here. The greatest Vampire Hunter on the whole Frontier!”

  “Damn straight,” said the feeble voice that drifted off the table.

  “Juke?”

  Juke still wore an intense expression on his face as he said, “You gotta . . . save the girl . . . and me, too . . . I’m begging you . . . In payment . . . I’ll give you my full wages from this run . . . How about it?”

  “Make it the wages for all three of you,” a hoarse voice demanded.

  The eyes of the other two went wide, but they responded soon enough.

  “Hell, you got it.”

  “We’re counting on you, D!”

  And having been invested with their full trust, the Hunter said, “I’ve got one whole day, till noon tomorrow—but you two may have the harder part of this.”

  The sound of rain mixed with D’s words.

  __

  III

  __

  Because many of the Nobility’s castles were based on those from Europe in the Middle Ages, the lay of the land and placement of the defenses could largely be determined by reading old plans and picture scrolls. During the millennia-spanning Human-Noble War, the human side had been served best during its daytime assaults by three-dimensional schematics created by analyzing those medieval strongholds. Years later, they were printed in a cheap paperback edition and distributed across the whole Frontier, and D kept a copy of this volume in his saddlebags.

  Soon after he’d left the tent the rain had abated, but flashes of lightning occasionally lent the leaden sky a bluish tint.

  When he took the book out and was about to flip through its pages, the hoarse voice needled him, saying, “Gaskell’s castle ain’t in there. That’s one strange man, all right. Never attended any gatherings of the Nobility, never called any either, just kept above it all. Maybe that was why the Sacred Ancestor took a shine to him. Gaskell’s eccentric behavior was most likely the Sacred Ancestor’s—”

  As if to cut short a long-winded discourse, D asked, “How do we get in?”

  Even without blueprints, the source of the hoarse voice apparently knew something.

  The answer came quickly: “It’s no use. Its defenses were tight as a drum. No doubt they still are.”

  Saying nothing, D tugged on the reins. His cyborg horse advanced through a bottleneck in the rocky mountains.

  “So, you’re going right up to the front door after all? You’re a reckless cuss. That’s precisely what Gaskell wants!”

  However, contrary to the left hand’s expectations, not a single attack came from the mountain fortress that loomed beneath the dark clouds. Had the general not taken notice, or was he simply going to draw them inside before tearing into them?

  Through a world of thunder and lightning that would give pause even to one possessing greater-than-average courage, a young man of unearthly beauty rode in silence on his steed. The road remained a shabby, rock-strewn mess, but the way the Hunter handled his mount, he’d undoubtedly reach the castle in a quarter of the usual time—or in about two hours.

  __

  The interior of the castle was swimming in unrest. D’s approach was being transmitted via countless holographs and three-dimensional monitors to the guests who’d been called there that day.

  “Oh, how beautiful!”

  “Who’d believe he was a Hunter?”

  While some innocently expressed their admiration, others expressed more violent views.

  “He came to
us all alone? This stripling is far too overconfident. I need no assistance. I shall tear him to ribbons and feed his entrails to the crows!”

  Not surprisingly, in all of the conversations no one remained a voice of moderation, though one person did suggest, “Shall I go out and test him a bit before he arrives here?”

  “Grand Duke Mehmet?” General Gaskell responded.

  “Correct, milord. Why, this stripling has no more to offer than his good looks—though he is truly gorgeous. The very notion of him being a Hunter is ridiculous. He may be good, but he can’t be any more than a young upstart who’s slain two or three bumpkin Nobility. Once I’ve torn off one of his arms, he’s bound to scamper away with his tail between his legs.”

  “I hope so, but that’s the same man who bested Major General Gillis.”

  That was the name of the person in the darkness who’d fled from his battle with D.

  “Well, that was Gillis. I, Mehmet, won’t allow such a shocking spectacle to be made of myself. I should like your permission to go toy with him a bit. Thanks to you, General, we’re able to walk in the sunlight, but the Noble blood that courses through him should leave him reluctant to do battle by day.”

  “It isn’t my power that allows you to walk in the light of day,” the general spat. “But by the look of things, it is the power of his own blood that allows him to do so. Grand Duke Mehmet, wait here patiently for his arrival. Though he’s hardly a match for you, there’s no need to get flustered about this. He’s a strange young man.”

  Grand Duke Mehmet didn’t conceal the snicker in his voice as he said, “The great General Gaskell. Was it only two centuries ago that we trembled at your reputation?”

  “General,” a different voice called out. That of a woman . . . and surely she was lovely and young. A heavenly beauty. “Allow Grand Duke Mehmet to go.”

  Her voice, which had what some might call a supple ring to it, hinted at thorns that would make anyone’s eyes go wide.

  “Madame Laurencin, is it?” General Gaskell said, his voice carrying a trace of fear. “I don’t know about that.”

  “General, you couldn’t possibly be afraid of that young man, could you?” Madame Laurencin said, her voice carrying cool laughter.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. In my lifetime, there was no end to the number of fools who tried to get into this castle and take my head. Although I spotted all of them well before the fact, I never let any of them be killed before they reached the castle. Each and every one was invited into the forecourt, where they were treated to my own special brand of hospitality. Not one of them made it in any further. That is the way I do things. And I will hear no objections to it.”

  His declaration was firm. Every one of the voices opted for silence.

  After confirming as much, the general said, “Madame Laurencin, I have a request for you, my good lady.”

  “Oh, me? It’s an honor, milord. Simply say the word,” she replied in a voice that made it easy to picture how lovely she’d look with the hem of her dress spreading across the floor like the tail of a peacock.

  “I’ve abducted a certain young lady. One of those whom the lowly humans refer to as a victim. I should like you to take charge of her.”

  “Why do you ask this, milord?”

  “The fact of the matter is, I myself don’t fully understand why it is that I took the girl.”

  This conversation was of the utmost secrecy and didn’t reach the ears of anyone aside from the two of them.

  “You told me yourself but a few hours ago that you would make her an addition to your clan, General.”

  “My intent was to make her an addition—it would seem.”

  Madame Laurencin’s voice fell silent for a while. “So, you brought her to this castle without even knowing why?” she finally asked.

  “At first, I thought it was to restrict D’s movements. However, it seems that such is not the case.”

  “It seems? General, do you not understand the reason for your own actions?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  The Noblewoman was at a loss for words.

  “I say this to you alone, milady. Why was I brought back to life?”

  Silence descended on a universe of amazement. The general had just stated quite plainly that all of his actions were guided by memories the Sacred Ancestor had imparted to him.

  “There’s only one reason that I know of at present.”

  “What might that be?” After a brief pause, the Noblewoman continued, “How incredible. Could he really be so formidable?” Her amazement was tinged with just a hint of rapture.

  __

  There was no need for D to halt his horse when he reached the castle gates. Studded with black hobnails, the great iron doors made an unspoken threat that things would only get worse as they split down the middle and swung open. Not hesitating in the slightest, D rode in.

  “Impressive,” said the female voice that rang out as the gates shut themselves behind D and the Hunter continued on into the center of the forecourt garden.

  While no expense had been spared, there wasn’t a trace of the medieval castle garden that had served as its model. Enormous trees had merely been planted haphazardly, turf had been laid, and a cobblestone path put through it, giving it a certain bluntness. It was clear at a glance: This was the castle of a soldier. More than anything, what caught the viewer’s eye were the fanglike castle walls, the countless arrow slits and loopholes for guns, the prism sights of heat rays concealed in innocuous-looking statues of beasts, and the murderous intent of wind-pressure sensors standing in a far-too-insistent gale.

  “My name is Madame Laurencin. I’m one of those who were called here,” she said, her voice like a blossom—a blossom made of ice. “General Gaskell intended to meet you himself, but I managed to coax him into allowing me a taste of you first. Therefore, if you wish to go any further, you shall have to slay me first. The young lady you seek is in my custody.”

  “Where is she?” D asked as he looked up at the sky, which had begun to take on a richer blue.

  “On the top floor of the eastern tower—for what it’s worth. Getting to those stairs will prove no easy task. Not the sort of thing a lowly Hunter of Nobility could achieve as long as he lived.”

  Saying nothing, D continued forward. Here and there he spied the paths that led from the spacious forecourt to the various gardens in different parts of the castle.

  “This was all for naught,” Madame Laurencin sneered. “Lasers, strike him down.”

  Murderous intent coalesced in the devices in the forecourt.

  D advanced mutely. The blue pendant on his chest was giving off a dazzling light.

  “What’s wrong? Shoot him!” the Noblewoman cried, her voice full of surprise and anger. But it quickly became a spiteful laugh. “It would seem our machines are malfunctioning. In that case, how does this suit you?”

  Suddenly, the scene in the forecourt shifted. The location of the trees and path remained the same, but everything was tinged vermilion. The ground and the castle walls were all coated with fresh blood—in fact, the ground couldn’t even be seen. Mounds of countless corpses filled D’s surroundings. The remains were those of fallen soldiers wearing helmets and armor and carrying longswords and chemical pistols. How many days had passed since the lifeblood had flowed from those bodies with their chests gouged, throats split, or heads torn off?

  A maddening stench filled the forecourt. Those corpses at the bottom of the heap had already putrefied, the eyeballs rolling out on strings of goo and insects working the flesh free from the bones—it seemed that even the blue sky overhead would be corrupted by this rank scene, with its foul miasma and eye-watering stink.

  But there were still some who would describe this tableau as beautiful, due solely to the presence of the young man in black astride his steed. All the ugliness and brutality of death was erased by D’s good looks. Before this young man, would death itself not blush?

  The dead and their blood be
gan to lose their color unexpectedly. As they lost their shape and hue, the stone walls and sculptures of the present became visible right through them, and in no time the scene was that of the garden where D had started.

  “You possess a mysterious power,” Madame Laurencin remarked. This time her tone was much livelier and the direction was clear.

  D’s face rose slightly. Thirty feet remained until the gate leading to the central courtyard. Atop the gatehouse, a lovely woman in a long white gown was looking down at him. Naturally, her visage was elegantly beautiful, but her skin in particular was every bit as stark white and smooth as her dress. Between fingers wrapped in long white gloves, a delicate pipe crafted from ivory let off swirls of purplish tobacco smoke.

  “I am Madame Laurencin. And you are—D.”

  From the black-gloved hand that gripped the reins, a voice whispered, “This Noblewoman was destroyed three thousand years ago! How interesting. She was so wicked and cruel, the Sacred Ancestor himself presided over her trial before carving her heart out. Looks like nothing but rebels have gathered here.”

  “It would seem that the source of your power lies in that pendant and your left hand,” the woman said, grinning as if she’d found him out. From between her vermilion lips, there poked a pair of pearly fangs.

  SHADOW OF THE SACRED ANCESTOR

  CHAPTER 2

  I

  __

  D lowered his eyes as if the woman didn’t interest him at all. Not an ugly hag like you.

  Perhaps this was how Madame Laurencin took it, because her demeanor changed. Her long pipe turned toward D, and then a cloud of purplish smoke whooshed from it. In a matter of seconds it became a white fog that spread about six feet from D, engulfing the rider and his steed. The cloud was dense, more like smoke than fog. Only someone with D’s eyes would’ve caught the glittering specks of light dancing within it as it drew closer.

  “Needles!” the Hunter’s left hand said in a tense tone, but D had already leapt from the saddle.

  Behind him, his horse whinnied. Though the body of the steed actually looked rather beautiful flecked with the glittering particles, their gleam turned to crimson and the horse cried out once before falling on its side. Its artificial hide lost its color, wrinkles covered it, and it was ultimately fated to shrivel up like a mummy. The swarm of minute needles had drained the cyborg horse of its fluids like a school of piranhas.