Vampire Hunter D: Dark Road Part Three

by Dark Road (Part 3) (v5. 0) (epub)

  “A shadow has no thickness. If I were so inclined, I could even slip into the Sacred Ancestor’s bedroom. Now, there are some preparations to see to before we take flight.”

  “What do you mean by ‘preparations’?”

  “Can you move?”

  “Yes,” Lady Ann replied, standing up.

  “Then take your clothes off.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I wish to claim part of my reward right here. Take your clothes off,” the shadow said, his voice rising. The whole situation had clearly aroused him. The very thought of getting a reluctant girl to strip down while every second counted in making their escape! Lady Ann was entirely justified in cursing him.

  “You dirty old man!” she spat. “What do you mean by ‘part of your reward’?”

  “That reward would be—you,” the major general’s shadow said. “But for now, I’ll settle for a look.”

  “You intend to take more than that, do you?”

  “We can discuss that—later.”

  “There’s no need to discuss anything! If those are your conditions, I’m staying right here.”

  “You fool! Naught but death awaits you if you remain. Rocambole lacks my appreciation of beauty and won’t be as gentle as I am.”

  “You’re not gentle; you’re a deviant! A sick bastard like you—” The girl broke off there, and then continued, “I’d rather stay here and have Lord Rocambole kill me than take orders from a deluded sex fiend.”

  “Rocambole is out to get D.”

  The shadow’s words froze Lady Ann solid.

  “That’s the reason he’s been revived. And if you stick around and help awaken him fully, you’ll be sending the strongest possible foe at D. Is that what you want?”

  Lady Ann looked as if she’d fallen into hell. To her, Major General Gillis’s words must’ve sounded like a thin thread dangled down from heaven above.

  “So far, he’s only absorbed the lives of two warriors. If you and I run off, he’ll be forced to fight D while still half asleep, in which case D will win. Rocambole wouldn’t have a chance. But if he awakens completely—D will be no match for him.”

  “You’re wrong!” Lady Ann shouted, her body trembling. “He will win. The man I love will never be defeated, no matter how dire the situation might be. And if he is defeated—then I will perish along with him.”

  For a while, the shadow maintained his silence. It was clear that shock had stopped his heart and choked his vocal cords.

  “Okay, I see,” Gillis said with resignation. “If you feel that strongly about him, there’s nothing more I can do. Do as you like. I’ll be leaving now, too. But I must ask you this one last time. Lady Ann, have you no intention at all of escaping with me?”

  “Not a hair.”

  “I see. I have no desire to watch you die. I’ll be leaving now.”

  “Fine,” the girl replied in a remorseless manner.

  Saying nothing more, the shadow that represented Major General Gillis went to the crack under the door, and in no time at all he’d disappeared through it.

  Letting out another sigh, Lady Ann lay down on the floor. Her thoughts were with D again. If she closed her eyes, a face of unearthly beauty was there gazing at her softly. The look it gave her was gentler than that of the real one.

  Her body tensed for a moment. A black shadow had suddenly come up behind her and attached itself to her back. It was the shadow of Major General Gillis, who’d slipped back in through the same gap under the door that he’d used to leave. Before she could do anything, Lady Ann found herself paralyzed. She couldn’t say a word. Not only that, but when the shadow got up, she stood up, too. No, it’s probably better in this case to say that when Lady Ann got up, the shadow did, too.

  At any rate, as Lady Ann approached the door with robotic steps, in her ear she heard Major General Gillis say in a low voice, “Oh, I couldn’t really leave the object of my affection to die here. I’ve undone the lock. So go. Or rather, the two of us shall head out into a new world clinging to one another.”

  There was no sign of anyone in the corridor. As they were about to head for the staircase, they heard the sound of numerous footsteps coming up from below. And what should appear but featureless silver beings dressed as servants. Their smooth faces lacked eyes, noses, and mouths. They were androids.

  When Nobles selected servants, many of those with more volatile tempers chose androids for the machines’ complete obedience. Human beings and others of their own kind tended to rub them the wrong way.

  “Come to take my lady love?” Major General Gillis muttered, but by that time the androids had spotted Lady Ann and were moving toward her with powerful strides.

  “You lousy piles of scrap!” the shadow laughed, and balling his hand into a fist, he drove it into Lady Ann’s stomach.

  Spotting the shadow as he slipped from the girl’s limp, collapsing body to the floor, the androids fired purple particle beams at him from their foreheads. Leaving only those holes they’d burned in the floor, the shadow sped toward the androids’ feet. Lacking physical form, could a shadow even be destroyed?

  Clinging to the androids’ feet, the shadow made his way up their torsos and then slipped off their backs. When he’d returned to the floor, the androids, which had been run through with a blade lacking density, began to convulse violently, black smoke billowing from their collars and wrists. Frozen in place, the first one let its head drop lifelessly, and then a second android began to twitch as well. It took less than ten seconds for five of the automatons to be reduced to scrap.

  Creeping across the ground, the shadow, who’d dropped Lady Ann with ungodly speed, returned to her back. Lady Ann’s eyes opened and the girl got up, but still she didn’t speak. And then she saw the figure in deep purple who stood just behind the androids’ remains.

  “General Gaskell!”

  “But that voice . . . Ah, I see. Major General Gillis has taken possession of you, has he?” the great general said, a very human surprise filling his one visible eye. “So, my authority means nothing now? If I let no more than a Nobleman with a penchant for assassination defy me, the ignominy will haunt me for all time. I must take my revenge—are you prepared to face that, Major General Gillis?”

  “I am.”

  Lady Ann’s eyes went wide—the voice had come from her own mouth.

  “But when you kill me, General, let me serve as the third sacrifice to fully restore Rocambole. And in return, I should like to ask that the legacy of Roland, the Duke of Xenon—my own beloved Lady Ann—be spared.”

  “Oh? You would give your own life so that this girl might be allowed to leave?”

  Extending one hand, Gaskell shoved the android standing in front of him to one side. Hitting the wall, it fell to the floor not with the rattle of metal but rather with the thud of a lump of clay. Its face had been knocked out of shape.

  “Precisely,” Major General Gillis said, and then he—or rather, Lady Ann—took a step back. There was nowhere to retreat to—it was a dead end. The only way out was a single window, and outside was a sheer drop of three hundred feet down the wall.

  “You know, I can’t believe it,” Gaskell said, continuing to advance. To either side of him an android smashed into the wall.

  “What? That at the age of 453 I’ve found my one true love?”

  Taking several steps back, Lady Ann finally found herself beside the window. Her eyes were tinged with terror. Although a drop from any height wouldn’t normally give an immortal Noble the slightest pause, she seemed to have an irrationally powerful fear.

  “That’s a touching sentiment,” Gaskell said, crushing the last pair of androids to either side of him. “However, when you fall now to my hand, it won’t be for Lord Rocambole. It will be purely because you’ve betrayed me. Therefore, the girl will have to be used as the last sacrifice to raise Lord Rocambole.”

  “That’s fiendish!”

  “That’s the law of the Frontier.”

 
“Of course. But I don’t much care for it. You always were just a bumpkin Noble.”

  Gaskell’s hand went for the hilt of his black sword. Behind his prey, there was nowhere to run. But his certainty of this made his movements too slow.

  “What’s this?” he gasped, his blade streaking from its scabbard to mow through the space in front of the window, but Lady Ann and the Dark One that clung to her back had thrown themselves out the window some three hundred feet from the ground.

  —

  II

  —

  Lady Ann screamed. But her death cry only resounded in her head. She fainted.

  However, she didn’t fall. Still attached to Lady Ann, Major General Gillis’s limbs reached out to grab the tower’s outer wall, and they began to descend like a lizard or some similar reptile.

  Leaning out of the same window, General Gaskell shouted a single invective and hurled a short sword that scored twenty feet of the rock wall, but Lady Ann and the Dark One easily dodged it and reached the ground in no time.

  Standing and turning to look back at the tower, Lady Ann laughed with Major General Gillis’s voice. But that laughter was cut short when he saw that the great General Gaskell had leapt from the same window he and his love had used.

  “Damnation!” the shadow shouted before sliding from Lady Ann’s back to her front side. She then leaned forward.

  Having controlled Lady Ann’s body up until now, the Dark One now carried her on his back as he began to run at an impressive clip. He moved with such unholy swiftness, it was as if the darkness creeping across the earth were his own body. Actually, if the darkness shared the same density that he did, then this probably would’ve been true. However, Castle Gaskell had lamplight spilling from the windows and illumination in the gardens, and countless other artificial light sources, and until he could reach somewhere the light didn’t hit directly, the dimness would be a weaker hue. The range of darkness under Major General Gillis’s control was limited to his own size.

  There was a courtyard in front of the tower. By the time Gillis reached the center of it, General Gaskell was just picking himself up from his own fall.

  We’re going to make it, Major General Gillis thought to himself with absolute conviction.

  From the ground ahead, waves surged toward him. Rather uncharacteristically, Gillis made no attempt at a sudden stop, and the instant the waves touched him he halted, feeling as if every inch of his body had been ripped open.

  I almost forgot about the other one, he thought.

  Some sixty feet away stood the armored figure. The waves of murderous intent that emanated from the lord’s body continued to tear at Major General Gillis.

  Impatience goaded Gillis on, for he could sense the presence of General Gaskell in the distance to his rear. The great general gave off an aura every bit as unearthly as he closed on his prey.

  “General,” Lord Rocambole said. Unlike Gillis, he didn’t refer to Gaskell as milord. “Is either one okay? There are two of them.”

  “It matters not to me,” the great General Gaskell replied, but he seemed a bit ill tempered. Apparently he would’ve preferred to be called milord. “However, if at all possible, make it the woman. I will dispose of Major General Gillis. Originally you wanted four lives, but you shall have to settle for three when you do battle with D.”

  “Ah, the truth comes out,” Gillis laughed cheerfully—apparently he’d made up his mind. “Aren’t you forgetting something, milord? Has it slipped your mind that, along with Dr. Gretchen, I was also called ‘a Noble killer’?”

  In the darkness, a turbulent hue skimmed across Gaskell’s vicious scowl. But the Dark One was faster in zipping across the earth. With the black shadow wrapped around it, Gaskell’s body arched so far backward he smashed the back of his head against the ground. Though this didn’t seem likely to have any effect on this giant of a man who’d just gotten up from a three-hundred-foot fall, the general was knocked out cold. And then the shadow stuck to his back slipped through Gaskell’s chest.

  “Aaaah!” the great general cried, loosing a scream of agony more horrible than any cry he’d made in any deadly battle before, no matter how ghastly. Several seconds later, black blood spilled from his collar and chest, from his cuffs and between his buttons. Still unconscious, he bent backward and writhed in pain. His limbs twisted in impossible directions as he twitched to the dance of death.

  Pulling away from Gaskell’s body, the shadow turned toward Lord Rocambole, who remained standing stock still.

  Whistling through the wind, a gleam of black flew through the air to skewer Gillis’s shadow as he raced across the ground. The shadow flowed like water, leaving only the black sword behind. He moved from the soles of the stationary lord to his legs. From his legs, the shadow climbed to his trunk—and now he planned to finish Rocambole with a single blow!

  However, just as he was about to do so, the most terrifying thing occurred. With the deadly shadow wrapped around it, Rocambole’s body collapsed to the ground—but not because Gillis’s power had rendered Rocambole unconscious.

  “B-but you’re . . .” Major General Gillis stammered, his bewilderment quite natural. After all, how could his opponent have the same special power that he did?

  As the two shadows tangled in their deadly clash, Lady Ann’s vacant gaze alone watched them. Suddenly, the pair pulled apart. One of the shadows let out an ear-shattering groan of pain. And the other shadow slid smoothly over to Lady Ann, slipping into the space between her body and the ground and carrying the girl with daunting speed toward the door to the nearest garden.

  However—in the feeble darkness of the garden, a long, thin streak made a black sweep along the same path as Lady Ann.

  —

  “The bleeding’s quite bad,” Lady Ann muttered. But as the girl was still unconscious, the words came in Major General Gillis’s voice. “He’s not used to dealing with shadows. I managed to get the drop on him, but he’ll probably be after us soon—and it doesn’t look like I can last much longer. In which case . . .”

  Lady Ann stopped moving. She was practically at the center of the vast rear courtyard—on a marble pathway.

  A shadowy figure emerged from beneath the girl’s hunched-over form. The profile looked to be that of a man, and gazing intently at Lady Ann, he said, “I’ve managed to save you somehow, but this is as far as I can take you. Though I die here, I have no regrets, milady. I’m happy to have met a girl like you . . . but I can’t just leave you to be sacrificed to Rocambole. Before it comes to that, I’d rather you died by my hand.”

  The shadow must’ve been drawing on the last of his strength, because as he moved toward Lady Ann, he seemed to be in a horrible kind of slow motion. His hand stretched for the girl’s form. Anyone the Dark One passed through—even the great general himself—would feel her body burn with hellish torment. Lady Ann’s destruction was assured.

  His outstretched hand crept up Lady Ann’s chest—and then it twitched violently. The torso of the shadow that lay on the ground had the shadow of a longsword running through its heart and out its back. The arm that gripped the weapon was visible from the elbow up, and it belonged to Lord Rocambole, who was kneeling on the ground. When he drew it back, both his hand and the longsword returned to their original form.

  “You . . . son of a bitch . . .”

  Though Major General Gillis’s groan was weak, it still left the lord stunned. His deadly attack had clearly gone right through the major general’s heart, and it should’ve killed him instantaneously. This was true tenacity. A crazed devotion to Lady Ann kept the dead man from expiring.

  “I won’t let you . . . have her . . . This girl . . . is mine.”

  Easily fending off the two arms that reached for him, Rocambole put the tip of his blade against the ground. It turned into a shadow and made another thrust at Gillis’s shadow.

  Major General Gillis bent backward and shook with one final spasm. That was the end of him.

  Getti
ng up, Lord Rocambole went over to Lady Ann and put the end of his longsword against her bosom. The steely tip pressed into the flesh of her chest. Pulling it away, Lord Rocambole said, “She’s a lovely girl. And as I recall, there’s one more. It’s not too late to compare the two and see which is more beautiful.”

  And then he turned his eyes to the outline of the castle that towered in the distance.

  —

  Major General Gillis’s attack far surpassed anything the great General Gaskell had experienced or could even comprehend. One by one the cells of his body burned and melted—he suffocated, he felt like vomiting, he groaned and writhed in pain. His brain had died, and his heart and lungs had completely ceased functioning. It took ten minutes for him to come back to life.

  “Need . . . liquid,” Gaskell muttered, raising his left forearm and sinking his teeth into it. Black blood spilled out. He drank it all up like a man stranded in the desert, swallowing at least a quart.

  When he finally paused to catch his breath and wipe his lips, someone far behind him asked, “Satisfied now?”

  Making an involuntary leap forward, he twisted around and landed some fifteen feet away out of surprise and fear that someone could come up behind him without his noticing, regardless of how he might’ve hungered. He had to wonder just how the owner of the voice had gotten there.

  “D?”

  Astride a cyborg horse sat a vision of beauty, and behind him one of the supposedly impassable gates was open wide.

  “How did you get through the gates to my castle? Who the hell are you?”

  “Where are Lady Ann and Rosaria?” All D did was ask the obvious question.

  “One is in the basement of my castle, and the other is being pursued through my rear courtyard by Lord Rocambole. You’ll be seeing him again soon enough.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  The figure in black leapt down. As D stood beside his horse, there was the sound of the sword leaving the sheath on his back.

  Feeling like this sound alone was enough to cut him, Gaskell drew his own longsword.