Chapter Text
Wallachia, 1455.
A swarm of bats flew over graveyards filled with skeletons, impaled skeletons. As the bats swarmed around, one bat got impaled by a dagger being wielded by a blonde woman. She was wearing a simple dress with a cloak draping behind her, she carried two bags on each hand.
The woman stood at the huge front door of a enormous castle gasping in awe of such a structure. The castle was so tall even, it seemed as if it touched the clouds. It had gears and some kind of energy system activated, which would likely be considered magic by most commoners in Wallachia's standards.
She knocked on the door. The door didn't open immediately so she quickly looked around for some device to open the door until it opened itself, which obviously surprised her.
The blonde entered the castle and walked through the main hall which was lit by candles hanging on the hall pillars on both sides. She had her dagger clenched in her right hand and looked around for any person or being seemingly knowing that she was in danger.
She whipped her head around to look at the door as she heard the it close behind her.
Choosing not to let that frighten her, she looked forward and saw a dark figure standing on top of the staircase in the main hall with it's body covered by a cape leaving its head exposed. The woman sheathed her dagger. "My name is Lisa. I am from the village of Lupu. I want to be a doctor." She introduced herself and explained her reasoning to be there.
The figure walked towards the stairs, but quickly vanished and reappeared on the lower floor, moving behind the hallway pillars silently. "You bang on my front door because you want to daub chicken blood on peasants."
"Don't mistake me for a witch. Everybody out there already does that."
The woman—Lisa—stated the fact with an annoyed look on her face. "I believe in science, but I need to know more. I've exhausted my other options and all the stories say that the man who lives here has secret knowledge." She said as she backed up and looked around for the man she was talking to, who had disappeared again.
The man appeared behind her and spoke, startling her. "I am Vlad Dracula Tepes and I don't get many visitors." He introduced himself back, "What have you to trade for my knowledge, Lisa from Lupu?"
Lisa stilled herself and walked forward a bit before turning around and glaring at him, "Perhaps I could help you relearn some manners."
Lisa saw Vlad stand up straight with a slightly confused look on his face as she lectured him. "I've crossed the threshold of your home, and you have haven't offered me a drink or even to take my coat."
Vlad stepped forward and looked down on her. "What if I took a drink from you? Or have you loaded yourself with silver, crosses, and garlic in superstitious fear?"
"I might have eaten some roasted garlic earlier. Was that rude? It was all I had left." Lisa admitted.
"I'm really not interested in superstition-" Lisa started while Vlad laughed and walked around her. "or being some muttering wise woman cheating people with boiled nettles and entrails. I want to heal people. I want to learn. Will you help me?" She asked without fear.
"You are definitely different to most humans I have met in recent times."
"Maybe I can teach you to like people again, or at least tolerate them, or stop putting them on sticks."
Vlad chuckled at that remark and walked down the hall with Lisa following. "I gave that up a long time ago. Where is Lupu Village?"
"You don't travel much." She stated.
"I can travel. This entire structure is a traveling machine."
"But... you don't. Do you?" Lisa questioned his personal traveling record. "Maybe you should, the world is changing." They both stopped moving. "Travel, like people do. You might like it."
Vlad raised an eyebrow at her.
"I've know you two minutes and you offer for me to walk the earth like an ordinary peasant while I give you the knowledge of immortals, the true science." Vlad gestured to the door which opened, revealing his laboratory.
All sorts of scientific equipment was on the lower floor while an archive of knowledge was on the upper floor.
Lisa gasped in amazement as she looked around.
"My, They won't be peasants anymore if you teach them." Lisa encouraged Vlad. "They won't live such short, scared lives if they have real medicine." Lisa approached Vlad. "They won't be superstitious if they learn how the world really works."
"Why should I do that?" Vlad asked while chuckling.
"To make the world better." Lisa placed her hand on her chest. "Start with me, and I'll start with you."
Vlad smiled and bowed. "I think I might like you." Both proceeded further into the laboratory to start their studies.
...
The time passed easily after that, it became a routine, really. Lisa would learn a new medical technique or study about medicines, and immediately write them down in books. Vlad had chuckled at her when she swore outloud at her ink stock finishing. Later that day, Vlad got her 3 odd objects for writing.
One that did not need to be dipped in ink, it was called a pen. Another made from from wood and charcoal called a pencil, and another that could erase any incorrections written by the pencils, called an eraser. Very literal name but viable nonetheless.
Lisa would travel back and forth between the castle and her cottage in Lupu village, near Târgovişte.
She would keep all her medical equipments and books in her small home for practicality. Despite the distractions from teaching and learning, both could feel sparks grow. By the end of the year, Lisa had loudly declared her love for the vampire lord which ended in him freezing in his tracks for exactly 1 hour and 23 minutes.
It took a great deal of convincing the man that it was alright for them to fall in love, it took a even longer time to convince him for sex. The first time was slow and sweet, the next times quickly turned heated. Vlad blamed Lisa for the escalations. There was no wedding but there were vows and an official bonding done by faes.
Not long after their marriage, Lisa wished for a child. She never entertained the notion that she would become a mother, as everyone in the village had always called her;
'a loon that no one would ever wed'.
Well Lisa—or looney Lisa, as they called her—ended up marrying the king of all vampires. And her husband referred to her as eccentric, not crazy.
Vlad was reluctant of course, the thought of bringing a child into the world with the vampire king's powers and the tolerance of holy objects from humans? The child could very well be considered invincible.
Well, considering the fact that their offspring would survive in the first place. Dhampirs don't live long, everyone knows that. Most don't even live long enough to be out of the womb, much less to adulthood.
Nevertheless, Lisa was persistent, just as Vlad had expected. So they started their research, scientifically, in order to reawaken her vampire husband's dead sperm cells and increase Lisa's fertility. There would be magic involved too, of course. Spells had to be casted upon the blonde woman as a way to increase her pain tolerance, so her body could undergo heavy changes during pregnancy without costing her life.
The long hours of studies had worked in the end, Lisa and Vlad Tepes had conceived a child. The delivery had been done by magical creatures, if by chance, there were complications. The hours of Lisa's labour were tense for everyone, and not just the parents. Vampires, Succubus, Incubus, veelas, shape shifters, werewolf and even poltergeists had shown up to await the birth of their prince. Their first ever prince, might they add.
So yes, it was an unnerving situation.
The halls were filled with creatures, hushed murmurs about what was to come. Even Dracula's generals had shown up, everyone's eyes on the huge clock ticking away.
It was exactly 4:53 in the morning,
25th of November, 1457, when a loud high pitched cry—loud enough to make even vampire lords wince—rang through the hall.
Eyes widened.
A faerie emerged from the room in which Lisa was giving birth.
"Her highness has successfully given birth!" The faerie cried out in joy.
Cheers erupted throughout the hall in excitement. The generals all clapped in delight. The announcement actually took a lot longer to be made than anyone anticipated—though no one knew why—but soon enough, Dracula himself made an appearance, with a light blue blanket bundled up in his arms.
It was a strange sight, really.
"I, Vlad Dracula Tepes, thank you all for your patience." Everyone did a long bow and waited in anticipation.
"Meet my heir, and your only prince." He revealed the gender of his child and claps were heard again.
After the sounds of glee quieted down, Vlad uncovered the blanket and moved the baby to face the crowd. Holding the child by his small sides, everyone could now view their little lord. Amidst the dark and gloomy figures, the infant clearly stood out.
The baby had bright rosy cheeks, golden hair and watery golden eyes to match. Despite not even being an hour old, he peered at everyone with curiosity. Vlad couldn't help but beam with pride while showing off his son.
~
"It's so small, Lana..." A red headed succubi whispered to her partner with astonishment.
"Aleena, 'It'?! Literally what the fuck, it's a 'he'." The pink haired demon slapped her lover with her tail.
A little farther away from them, another couple whispered to eachother. "I cannot believe it, our first ever prince." A brown vampire whispered with excitement and the pale woman clinging to him also nodded, grinning with fangs on display.
"A living dhampir. Who knew I'd live long enough to see one." A tall, dark skinned haired werewolf said with a smile, shaking her head.
Vlad let them all talk, have their excitement about his newborn. They could all smell the humanity in the child but they also knew that no one would dare utter a word about it.
So the vampire king lived the years with his sun incarnate wife and their tiny, enthusiastic, sunshine child.
And finally again after hundreds of year later, Vlad Dracula Tepes felt his dead heart, beat.
__
Târgovişte, Wallachia,
October, 1475.
There was some definite ruckus going on in the city. A mob of people were watching someone burn, a witch burning to be exact.
In that fire was Lisa, who was crying in pain. Priests were holding up crosses while murmuring a prayer of sort.
One of the priest just stood there watching her burn with no remorse. He was wearing white robes, a religious cap and a small white coat which hanged around his shoulders with a cross on each side.
A short and moderately large man with a bushy beard and thick mustache walked up to him.
"So there were devil engines in her house, Bishop?" The short man asked the Bishop.
"I saw them with my own eyes. Glass in shapes you've never seen, thin as paper. Lightning. Strange weeds and tools. Witch's things." The Bishop said menacingly. "Of all the witches I've rooted out, none had such a collection."
"And it had come to this?"
"She called it all science, Mayor." The Bishop gestured towards Lisa and then pointed his finger to his head. "Lisa Tepes of Lupu was so far gone that she couldn't see that it was all given to her by Satan."
"I've made some small study of the chemical sciences myself, you know." The Mayor said while stroking his mustache.
The Bishop glared at the Mayor for the statement. A warning, if you will.
"J-just a study, of course. I-I'd never think to practice." The fat man stuttered.
"The Archbishop would prefer that life in Wallachia be kept simple, Mayor." The Bishop smirked as he heard Lisa scream.
"Simple. Pure. Good."
Lisa was crying and groaning at the burning stake. "Don't hurt them! They don't understand!" She spoke out loud.
"Who is she talking to?" The Mayor wondered.
"I believe she's exhorting Satan not to take revenge on us, which I suppose is almost commendable, for a witch." The Bishop was almost impressed at the scene. "Perhaps I'll say a prayer for her. A small one."
Lisa was panting and coughing from the fire. "I know it's not your fault, but... if you can hear me... they don't know what they are doing. Be better than them. Please. Don't let him hurt them!" She pleaded out loud hoping that somehow the person she was talking to would hear her, wherever they were at the moment. The fire soon consumed her.
A large bell rang in the village of Lupu, not far from central Targoviste. A lone figure was walking across the bridge passing by a couple of people. This figure was Vlad Dracula Tepes.
He bore a ring on his left index finger which was proof of his marriage to Lisa. He was wearing a dark coat with the collar popped up, a dark gray dress shirt, black slacks, and black boots. He was carrying a bag strapped around his shoulder.
Vlad stopped in the middle of the breezy road and noticed that the fence to his wife's village home was broken. It was also likely that he noticed the blood on the ground beneath him. He passed the broken fence through a field of tall grass. Crows were flocked above him.
As he got home, he felt his dead heart stop and dropped his bag. His wife's home was destroyed. Trails of black smoke indicated that it was burned down.
An elderly woman approached behind him. "Are you Mr. Tepes? She talked about you."
Vlad turned to face her. "What happened? Where is my wife?"
"Oh. The Bishop took her. Witchcraft, he said. They're burning her at the stake." The elderly woman said in a tone far more casual than he would've preferred.
Vlad visibly tried to contain his fury as the old woman spoke. "She was good to me, your wife. A good doctor." The elderly woman placed a bundle of flowers on the site of the destroyed house. "It's not right what happened."
"Where are they holding her? The cathedral?" Vlad pressed for information.
"Oh. Oh no sir. Sh-she'll be dead by now." The woman regretfully explained.
Vlad clenched his fist. "What?"
"I don't care what they say. I won't take joy in that woman being killed by the Church. I'm here remembering her instead."
Vlad stood there, crying bloody tears.
"She said to me, 'if you would love me as a man, then live as a man. Travel as a man.'" He quoted her with his sharp nailed hands reaching out.
"She said you were traveling."
"I was. The way men do. Slowly." Vlad closed his hands. "No more." He declared and turned to face the elder woman with blood red eyes and yellow pupils, scaring her.
Vlad walked towards the woman's direction.
"I do this last kindness in her name, she who loved you humans and cared for your ill. Take your family and leave Wallachia tonight. Pack and go, and do not look back..." Vlad—at that point of being back to Dracula—lit himself on fire with his magic, which indefinitely terrified the woman.
"for no more shall I travel as a man."
The woman started to run. The flowers she placed burned.
...
Lisa's corpse, now fully destroyed down to the bones, kept burning until it fell apart, back at the stake. The civilians present were celebrating at the scene.
"Ah, there. Quite a show. Drinks?"
The Bishop yawned, clearly not bothered by the gruesome burning.
"I should minister to the Archbishop. I fear he's not long for this world, to be honest." He walked away from the burning platform with the Mayor in tow.
"Off to heaven with him, eh? I suppose that's the ultimate goal for you priest, serving God in his true house and all that."
"It holds little appeal for me, to be honest." The Bishop denied the possibility.
"Really?"
"There's so much left to be done on earth. Wallachia could be God's own country had I the time to burn out all the evils that hide here."
Suddenly, an explosion went off behind them, which enhanced the fire and caused it to start taking the form of Dracula.
"What have you done?" The image of Dracula asked menacingly.
The Mayor was, quite literally, shaking in his boots. "Satan." He called out.
The fiery image of Dracula was complete. "What have you done to my wife?" It almost sounded like a command, rather than a question.
The Bishop started to chant with his cross held out. "In nominee Patris et Filii..."
"I am Vlad Dracula Tepes, and you will tell me why this thing has happened to my wife." He commanded.
"Oh no! Oh, God! Dracula!" The Mayor was beyond shocked. "He was supposed to be a myth, a story made by heretics!" He denied Dracula's existence.
"She... she's a witch." They tried to justify the actions of the Church.
"Lisa Tepes was a woman of Science, and the only thing that justified humanity's stench upon this planet." Dracula declared.
"You are not real." The Bishop denied his existence. "You are fiction that justified the practice of black magic!" He fervently stated.
"A fiction." Dracula did not like being mocked. "You take my wife and deny I even exist!"
The fiery figure started to warn everyone in the city, present or not.
"I give you one year, Wallachians. You have one year to make your peace and remove any marks you have laid upon the land. One year, and then I'll wipe all human life from the land of Wallachia. You took that which I love, so I will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been. One year."
Dracula said menacingly and his image disappeared in an explosion of fire causing a shockwave to push back all of the citizens and break all the glass windows.
A fire shower started to fall upon the city and the people ran in terror.
Dracula stared angrily at a glass like device that he had used to send his message, which shattered and floated around the center of the room.
The vampire walked towards a research table and started destroying books, glass flasks and then the table in the end, out of pure anger.
"One year!" He yelled to himself, as he shot lightning at the floating glass shards, causing the mirror to reform. "It will take one year to summon an army from the guts of hell itself!"
The door to the room Dracula was in opened. "No." The new arrival said.
"What do you mean, no? That woman was the only reason on earth for me to tolerate human life!" Dracula's tone got harsher as he turned to face the new figure.
Honey coloured eyes narrowed.
The figure became more focused, but the blinding light covered the details on him from the back view. He had long hair, a coat which concealed his effeminate figure, and a sword sheathed on the left side of his body.
"Then find the one who did the deed." The figure said with anger and disapproval clear in his tone. He continued before Vlad could give a response, "If you let loose an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and many thousands of people just as innocent as her will suffer and die."
Dracula sneered at that.
"There are no innocents! Not anymore," Dracula shouted. "Any one of them could have stood up and said, 'no, we won't behave like animals anymore.'" Dracula clenched his raised hand drawing his blood with his nails.
"I won't let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide."
Dracula growled in anger and rushed to claw the person who was readying his sword, but was too slow to react.
Blood splattered.
A thump and a clatter.
Vlad paled.
__
Targoviste, Wallachia: 1476
[Exactly an year later to be precise]
It was daytime, with a choir singing.
People were gathering in front of the Cathedral to listen, and then the Archbishop came into view, exiting the Cathedral by being carried in his chair.
He raised his sharp nailed hands to silence the audience. He breathed in before starting his speech.
"For twenty years, have I served you and God as the Archbishop to Targoviste Cathedral. Yet, never before have I felt the love of God shine upon this great city. A little more than a year ago, many of us suffered a vision during the God-willed punishment of a witch in our midst." He continued as the people of the city looked around pleased at themselves.
"The devil himself came to us and threatened us with doom in one year. And yet, here we are. The devil lied. Why should we be surprised? Do we not know the devil for a liar?"
The sky turned into a dark red color as the bishop kept speaking. Some people looked up in concern.
"Do we not know his work to be illusion? Of course, we do. Illusions and falsehoods hold no fear for us, for we are righteous of Targoviste, living as if cradled in the love of God." As soon as he stretched out his hands, blood started to rain down.
The citizens all started crying out in fear as they got soaked in blood. Monstrous beings started to rain down upon them. These beings were apparently in their infant, larval state.
The ground started to shake, destroying houses and the blood rain crushed the buildings. The ground started to crack this time. The windows of the Cathedral shattered and started falling upon the Archbishop and his men, impaling them.
The archbishop, unfortunately, survived the initial strike and tried to get up.
He saw the building burst into a blaze and watched the fire rise into the sky taking the form of Dracula's face, which started speaking to the people.
"One year. I gave you, one year to make your peace with your God. And what do you do? Celebrate the day you killed my wife." Dracula pointed out their mistakes, not quite anger in his voice. But weariness, not that the humans understood that in between their destruction.
An explosion of fire occured again and Dracula's castle teleported into the city. All of the windows in the city start opening up violently. From these windows, spawned the army of the night, ready to terrorize the city.
The beast started to run amok killing everyone in sight. Slashing, piercing, and bisecting every man, woman, and child. Organs and intestines fell onto the ground. The beasts even shot blasts of fire into buildings, killing anyone hiding.
A swarm of bats started to take the form of Dracula's face while the beasts continued to cause havoc. "Kill everything you see. Kill them all. And once Târgoviște has been made into a graveyard for my love, go forth into the country." His voice echoed.
The night army started to make their way out of the city. "Go to all the cities of Wallachia: Arges, Severin, Gresit, Chilia, Enisara. Go now and kill.
Kill for my love! Kill for the only true love I ever knew. Kill for the endless lifetime of hate before me."
__
A village was out in the sticks.
A man—Bosha—started talking. "So I say to him 'It's my goat. I've been tending to goats since I was four years old.'". The man was talking to another person named Kob in a tavern which had a few other people in it.
"Right, right." Kob agreed.
"And I'd know if my goat was in love with you."
"For God's sake."
"He says to me, 'I know your goat's in love with me'."
"So you said 'how', Bosha?"
"So I said how! And he says, 'Well, she fucks me, don't she?'"
"And that's when you hit him." Kob concluded the story while Bosha drank.
Bosha slammed his drink on the tabled and pointed to his eye. "Right across the eyes with a shovel. And now the headman says I have to pay the bastard money because he went blind." He said, annoyed.
Kob drank his own beer.
"Not fair."
"So I say to him, 'you didn't think he was gonna go blind fucking a goat with a mange.'"
"That would have been your fault, too." Kob stated as a fact.
"I would have gotten blamed for that, too." Bosha admitted, and to everyone's horror, said,"But what am I supposed to do when I find my goat laying on its side in the field, fucked within an inch of its life and a naked man with blood and straw all over his peck?"
"Hit him with a shovel."
"Fucking right I hit him with a shovel!" Bosha called out to the bartender. "More ale for me and my cousin Kob!"
"Brother." Kob corrected.
Bosha didn't seem to like the term 'brother' and addressed it. "Look we might have had the same father, but you came out of my aunt.
"Don't make me get the shovel." He warned him.
"Anyone else while I'm pouring?" The bartender asked.
"One over here." One of the patrons responded. He had a fur cloak on.
A scrawny man, Piter, came through the door panting. "Ale! For Christ's sake!" He closed the door.
Bosha called his name. "Piter. We was just wondering if you'd spotted any attractive sheep on your ride out. What's the word, mate?"
Piter walked towards the bartender for his drink. He drank his ale fast. "The hord'es been seen, sweeping the west!"
"Shit! You think they'll reach us?" Kob asked, now concerned.
"I think they might pass us by. I don't know. I hope."
Piter continued. "I'm told they're closing on Gresit."
"Serves 'em right" Bosha said, already writing off the people of Gresit. "Stuck-up bastards."
The bartender tried to interject, but was cut off. "No. No, it all comes down to the families and the houses, doesn't it? The houses of Gresit."
Bosha spat as he continued. "Vlad Dracula? An old family. The capital? All run by the great houses. And they are not even the worst."
"The Belmonts?" Bosha said with pure hatred in his voice.
"The Belmonts." Kob confirmed.
The man sitting in the far table turned his head to listen to the conversation. He had dark brown—almost black— unkempt hair, a stubble on his chin and an old scar going down his left eye. Fairly attractive if not for the obvious disinterest in self-care.
"We should have killed all the Belmonts." Bosha finished.
The guy eavesdropping turned his head away and raised his hand to scratch his head. "Shit."
"It's all about these old families, like the Belmonts, who control all the power and go to war with each other. And who's caught in the middle?" Bosha asked his fellow patrons.
The man listening in on the conversation from the opposite end of the tavern gave them an annoyed look. "We are." Kob answered.
"We are, because we don't matter." Bosha slowly stated.
"Do you know why? Where'd you come from?" Bosha asked his cousin.
"Well, out of your aunt, according to you." Kob replied with an eye roll.
"You came from shit." Bosha put his finger on Kob's chest. "I came from shit. We all came from shit."
"We just work for a living every day of our lives." The unidentified man tried to drink away but realized that he was out of ale.
"We just keep those bastards in food and wool." As Bosha kept speaking, the man got up and approached the bartender's counter.
"Slaves! That's what we are. Slaves to great old families and their games."
The man interrupted the conversation. "Sorry. Can I get my ale? It's just that I think I'm sobering up." He explained.
"All right, all right, but I wanna see some coin from you now." The bartender shifted his attention from the ranting men to the new patron and demanded.
The man groaned at the fact that he had to pay instead of when he was done drinking.
He nearly stood up straight as he checked his right side for the money with the others watching him. He kept stumbling a bit before checking his left side.
Bosha noticed something on the man's chest as he pulled out a satchel of money.
"Oi! What's that on your chest?"
"My shirt." The man presented the money to the bartender. "Just one more tankard, eh? Something to keep me warm while I find a tree to sleep under."
Bosha walked right up to the man. "That's a family crest. I know it."
"I don't." The drunk man said trying to be funny. He turns toward the bartender. "Just one more drink and then I'll leave, all right?"
Bosha caught the man off guard by getting in his face. "That's a Belmont crest."
"Really?" The now identified Belmont tried to escape the accusation by paying the bartender. "Look, here's the money." He dropped the payment on the counter.
"You're a Belmont, aren't you? House of Belmont, Family Belmont!" Bosha was pissed off that he was in front of him at the moment.
"Never met them." The man denied his accusatory connection to the Belmonts. He waved his hand at the bartender. "Listen, just forget it. I'll just go."
Bosha shoved the man. "No! You're a Belmont! This is all your fault."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Belmont was quick to become defensive.
"Yes, you do." Kob said holding his fist in his hand.
"Yes, you do." Bosha said, slower. "Everyone knows the Belmonts dealt in black magic. The Belmonts dealt with monsters."
"The Belmonts fought monsters, son..." The drunk man defended the Belmonts until a moment later he realized that he may have hinted to his identity. He glanced away from his accuser and tried to save himself, "so I'm told." He looked back at Bosha and tried to reassure him that his shirt doesn't guarantee a connection between him and the Belmont family. "This is just an old shirt."
"The Belmonts were excommunicated by the church, banished and disowned. Their lands taken because they were evil." Bosha explained what had happened from his perspective.
"Evil." Kob repeated.
"And now Dracula's hordes are abroad in the land." Bosha stated the effect of his claim. "And whose fault is that?" Bosha clenched his fists while cracking them.
"Well, it ain't mine."
"The Belmonts traded in black magic, and now black magic is all over Wallachia," Bosha narrowed his eyes. "I think you know exactly whose fault that is.
The Belmont was just about done with the fat man. He raised his hands defensively and closed his eyes. "I'm leaving, okay? I'm leaving now." He tried to leave until Bosha raised his arm in front of him which he quickly pushed away.
"So you can lead your monster friends back here?" Bosha accused him.
"Talking about somewhere to piss and somewhere else to sleep." The Belmont retorted.
"No, you can sleep right here."
"You haven't got your shovel." The drunk man replied in a smug tone.
Without warning, Bosha striked the Belmont in the face with a right hook, forcing him back and drawing blood. "I don't need it. Confess and I'll make it quick. What's your name?" He approached him.
"Jesus of Nazareth." The Belmont said lowly, just loud enough for Bosha to hear him. "Look, I'm carrying a short sword and a whip."
Before the Belmont could finish whatever else he was going to say, Bosha kicked him in the groin. Right on the family heirloom. Physical one.
"Try again."
This time the Belmont complied with the demand while groaning. "Trevor Belmont. Last son of the Belmont family. Happy now?" The now named Trevor Belmont glared at his nut kicker.
"Now." Bosha tried to kick Trevor in the nuts again but this time he caught the leg and slowly raised the leg higher. It didn't just put the fat man off balance but he fell as Trevor let go.
"Hey!" The bartender yelled, rushing up to Trevor. Trevor kicked Bosha while he was down and drawing blood until the bartender got close enough to punch him. The other patrons ran up to get a piece of Trevor as well.
Whoever was running up to Trevor last, stepped on Bosha's face causing him to bleed from his nose. "Fucking face down here!"
Trevor saw the bartender attempting another punch, so he sidestepped and hit the bartender in the back of the head, causing him to fall over.
Piter followed up with a lucky punch, but missed his next punch and was sluggishly pushed away. The bartender already got up to swing at Trevor again, but Trevor side stepped again and combed him with a knee to the gut and a punch to the face.
Trevor was still feeling the effects of the ale until he heard Kob approach.
The tall man readied his fist practically telegraphing his attack to the Belmont.
However, Trevor did nothing and took the punch to the face. He was sent flying backwards and flipped over as soon as he made contact with the floor and landed near the fireplace.
Trevor got up and had a pained smile as blood drip from his face. "I'll tell you one bit. Listen, I used to fight fucking vampires." He informed them.
Piter came out of nowhere and punched Trevor in the side of his face which stunned him and proceeded to hold his arms behind his back.
"Kick him!"
Kob smirked as he got a running start and kicked the Belmont hard in the nuts again. The bartender got back up as the captive focused on the pain he received.
"Would you please leave my testicles alone...!" Trevor groaned. He was later punched by the bartender who didn't want to hear him.
Trevor had enough of the disrespect apparently because he hit Piter with the back of his head which cause Piter to scream in pain, as he held his bloodied nose.
The bartender rushed in with a right hook which Trevor ducked and counter with a left hook to the ribs. Trevor held his face and slammed him into a table, the bartender neck making contact with the edge and coughed up blood as he fell to the floor.
Trevor walked to the middle of the tavern while wiping away some of the blood on him. "I'm Trevor fucking Belmont and I've never lost a fight to man nor fucking beast." He declared.
Trevor was swept off his feet. He heard a creepy laugh and saw Kob holding a chair over his head, ready to swing down. "Oh shit." Kob swung the chair down. The birds outside flew away at the sound of the chair breaking.
Trevor exited the tavern which also happened to be an inn. He walked a few steps out and paused suddenly.
"Oh, Christ." He then quickly got on all fours and let it out. Trevor got back up and wiped off whatever was left on his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Bastards. I hope you all bleed out. Through your asses!" He yelled to whoever could hear him in the tavern. "Ah... every last rat bastard one of you." He kept cursing them as he walked away to find a tree to sleep under, as he had mentioned before.
_
"So I say to him, 'you didn't think he was gonna go blind fucking a goat with a mange.'"
"That would have been your fault, too." Kob stated as a fact.
"I would have gotten blamed for that, too." Bosha admitted, and to everyone's horror, said,"But what am I supposed to do when I find my goat laying on its side in the field, fucked within an inch of its life and a naked man with blood and straw all over his peck?"
"Hit him with a shovel."
"Fucking right I hit him with a shovel!" Bosha called out to the bartender. "More ale for me and my cousin Kob!"
"Brother." Kob corrected.
Bosha didn't seem to like the term 'brother' and addressed it. "Look we might have had the same father, but you came out of my aunt.
"Don't make me get the shovel." He warned him.
"Anyone else while I'm pouring?" The bartender asked.
"One over here." One of the patrons responded. He had a fur cloak on.
A scrawny man, Piter, came through the door panting. "Ale! For Christ's sake!" He closed the door.
Bosha called his name. "Piter. We was just wondering if you'd spotted any attractive sheep on your ride out. What's the word, mate?"
Piter walked towards the bartender for his drink. He drank his ale fast. "The hord'es been seen, sweeping the west!"
"Shit! You think they'll reach us?" Kob asked, now concerned.
"I think they might pass us by. I don't know. I hope."
Piter continued. "I'm told they're closing on Gresit."
"Serves 'em right" Bosha said, already writing off the people of Gresit. "Stuck-up bastards."
The bartender tried to interject, but was cut off. "No. No, it all comes down to the families and the houses, doesn't it? The houses of Gresit."
Bosha spat as he continued. "Vlad Dracula? An old family. The capital? All run by the great houses. And they are not even the worst."
"The Belmonts?" Bosha said with pure hatred in his voice.
"The Belmonts." Kob confirmed.
The man sitting in the far table turned his head to listen to the conversation. He had dark brown—almost black— unkempt hair, a stubble on his chin and an old scar going down his left eye. Fairly attractive if not for the obvious disinterest in self-care.
"We should have killed all the Belmonts." Bosha finished.
The guy eavesdropping turned his head away and raised his hand to scratch his head. "Shit."
"It's all about these old families, like the Belmonts, who control all the power and go to war with each other. And who's caught in the middle?" Bosha asked his fellow patrons.
The man listening in on the conversation from the opposite end of the tavern gave them an annoyed look. "We are." Kob answered.
"We are, because we don't matter." Bosha slowly stated.
"Do you know why? Where'd you come from?" Bosha asked his cousin.
"Well, out of your aunt, according to you." Kob replied with an eye roll.
"You came from shit." Bosha put his finger on Kob's chest. "I came from shit. We all came from shit."
"We just work for a living every day of our lives." The unidentified man tried to drink away but realized that he was out of ale.
"We just keep those bastards in food and wool." As Bosha kept speaking, the man got up and approached the bartender's counter.
"Slaves! That's what we are. Slaves to great old families and their games."
The man interrupted the conversation. "Sorry. Can I get my ale? It's just that I think I'm sobering up." He explained.
"All right, all right, but I wanna see some coin from you now." The bartender shifted his attention from the ranting men to the new patron and demanded.
The man groaned at the fact that he had to pay instead of when he was done drinking.
He nearly stood up straight as he checked his right side for the money with the others watching him. He kept stumbling a bit before checking his left side.
Bosha noticed something on the man's chest as he pulled out a satchel of money.
"Oi! What's that on your chest?"
"My shirt." The man presented the money to the bartender. "Just one more tankard, eh? Something to keep me warm while I find a tree to sleep under."
Bosha walked right up to the man. "That's a family crest. I know it."
"I don't." The drunk man said trying to be funny. He turns toward the bartender. "Just one more drink and then I'll leave, all right?"
Bosha caught the man off guard by getting in his face. "That's a Belmont crest."
"Really?" The now identified Belmont tried to escape the accusation by paying the bartender. "Look, here's the money." He dropped the payment on the counter.
"You're a Belmont, aren't you? House of Belmont, Family Belmont!" Bosha was pissed off that he was in front of him at the moment.
"Never met them." The man denied his accusatory connection to the Belmonts. He waved his hand at the bartender. "Listen, just forget it. I'll just go."
Bosha shoved the man. "No! You're a Belmont! This is all your fault."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Belmont was quick to become defensive.
"Yes, you do." Kob said holding his fist in his hand.
"Yes, you do." Bosha said, slower. "Everyone knows the Belmonts dealt in black magic. The Belmonts dealt with monsters."
"The Belmonts fought monsters, son..." The drunk man defended the Belmonts until a moment later he realized that he may have hinted to his identity. He glanced away from his accuser and tried to save himself, "so I'm told." He looked back at Bosha and tried to reassure him that his shirt doesn't guarantee a connection between him and the Belmont family. "This is just an old shirt."
"The Belmonts were excommunicated by the church, banished and disowned. Their lands taken because they were evil." Bosha explained what had happened from his perspective.
"Evil." Kob repeated.
"And now Dracula's hordes are abroad in the land." Bosha stated the effect of his claim. "And whose fault is that?" Bosha clenched his fists while cracking them.
"Well, it ain't mine."
"The Belmonts traded in black magic, and now black magic is all over Wallachia," Bosha narrowed his eyes. "I think you know exactly whose fault that is.
The Belmont was just about done with the fat man. He raised his hands defensively and closed his eyes. "I'm leaving, okay? I'm leaving now." He tried to leave until Bosha raised his arm in front of him which he quickly pushed away.
"So you can lead your monster friends back here?" Bosha accused him.
"Talking about somewhere to piss and somewhere else to sleep." The Belmont retorted.
"No, you can sleep right here."
"You haven't got your shovel." The drunk man replied in a smug tone.
Without warning, Bosha striked the Belmont in the face with a right hook, forcing him back and drawing blood. "I don't need it. Confess and I'll make it quick. What's your name?" He approached him.
"Jesus of Nazareth." The Belmont said lowly, just loud enough for Bosha to hear him. "Look, I'm carrying a short sword and a whip."
Before the Belmont could finish whatever else he was going to say, Bosha kicked him in the groin. Right on the family heirloom. Physical one.
"Try again."
This time the Belmont complied with the demand while groaning. "Trevor Belmont. Last son of the Belmont family. Happy now?" The now named Trevor Belmont glared at his nut kicker.
"Now." Bosha tried to kick Trevor in the nuts again but this time he caught the leg and slowly raised the leg higher. It didn't just put the fat man off balance but he fell as Trevor let go.
"Hey!" The bartender yelled, rushing up to Trevor. Trevor kicked Bosha while he was down and drawing blood until the bartender got close enough to punch him. The other patrons ran up to get a piece of Trevor as well.
Whoever was running up to Trevor last, stepped on Bosha's face causing him to bleed from his nose. "Fucking face down here!"
Trevor saw the bartender attempting another punch, so he sidestepped and hit the bartender in the back of the head, causing him to fall over.
Piter followed up with a lucky punch, but missed his next punch and was sluggishly pushed away. The bartender already got up to swing at Trevor again, but Trevor side stepped again and combed him with a knee to the gut and a punch to the face.
Trevor was still feeling the effects of the ale until he heard Kob approach.
The tall man readied his fist practically telegraphing his attack to the Belmont.
However, Trevor did nothing and took the punch to the face. He was sent flying backwards and flipped over as soon as he made contact with the floor and landed near the fireplace.
Trevor got up and had a pained smile as blood drip from his face. "I'll tell you one bit. Listen, I used to fight fucking vampires." He informed them.
Piter came out of nowhere and punched Trevor in the side of his face which stunned him and proceeded to hold his arms behind his back.
"Kick him!"
Kob smirked as he got a running start and kicked the Belmont hard in the nuts again. The bartender got back up as the captive focused on the pain he received.
"Would you please leave my testicles alone...!" Trevor groaned. He was later punched by the bartender who didn't want to hear him.
Trevor had enough of the disrespect apparently because he hit Piter with the back of his head which cause Piter to scream in pain, as he held his bloodied nose.
The bartender rushed in with a right hook which Trevor ducked and counter with a left hook to the ribs. Trevor held his face and slammed him into a table, the bartender neck making contact with the edge and coughed up blood as he fell to the floor.
Trevor walked to the middle of the tavern while wiping away some of the blood on him. "I'm Trevor fucking Belmont and I've never lost a fight to man nor fucking beast." He declared.
Trevor was swept off his feet. He heard a creepy laugh and saw Kob holding a chair over his head, ready to swing down. "Oh shit." Kob swung the chair down. The birds outside flew away at the sound of the chair breaking.
Trevor exited the tavern which also happened to be an inn. He walked a few steps out and paused suddenly.
"Oh, Christ." He then quickly got on all fours and let it out. Trevor got back up and wiped off whatever was left on his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Bastards. I hope you all bleed out. Through your asses!" He yelled to whoever could hear him in the tavern. "Ah... every last rat bastard one of you." He kept cursing them as he walked away to find a tree to sleep under, as he had mentioned before.
_