They managed to break through the castle gates. By the running and yelling outside his chamber door, Adrian could tell the war finally made it to his home. He knew it was only a matter of time before the humans gathered enough meager forces to finally storm their castle. And this time they got a hunter to lead them. They were finally learning.
This leader of theirs, Adrian heard the man’s name before. Not often, but every once and a while the name would escape his father’s lips:
He was not too sure of how his father knew this name, but he knew he was strong, not only by his father’s words but his father’s physical queues when the news came that this man was on his way to the castle. He never saw his father shudder like that. So this human was much more than what meets the eye, at least that is what he assumed.
Despite the energy spilling from the castle walls, Adrian was merely an effigy in his chamber. It was a big chamber and he stood in the center of it. It was a chamber built for a prince because that was who he was: the prince of the castle. He was a prince whose father waged war against the entire human race over the death of his wife, his queen, and his love. This spacious room was way too lavish with a dark canopy hanging over a bed which was already too big for a twenty year old man. Even if he had someone to share the bed with, it would still be too much.
It did not matter anyway. Those covers remained untouched for almost a year now. Beside the bed was a musty-colored coffin, trimmed in gold with a cross cutting down the middle. That was where he had to sleep now. His father wanted him to be like him, so he made him kill his only friend so he could help him commit genocide.
Adrian clutched tighter to the sword in his hand.
He has to die…
More footfalls came from outside his door. He held his breath to make sure those passing by did not hear him. True, it was not like his father’s army could do anything to him. It was absolutely frowned upon to barge into one of the Lord’s rooms without properly announcing themselves. Even more so they still believed his was going to fight by their side, so why would they even barge in? To their knowledge he just went to his chambers to prepare. That was all. Then he would go to his father’s side and await to see if anyone made it to the throne room.
Little did they know he was going to stab them all in the back. He knew everyone of them, and his chest started welling with such guilt.
God, I should have just tried to save her…
“Her.” Mother. Her name was Lisa. She made this place a home. Now it was an empty shell.
If she were not dead, if he just did not listen to her once, if he just tried to save her, things might have been different. She told him to stop, he cried for her but she told him to let her go. He didn’t want to listen, but he did. He let her die and now this war was underway.
His mother was gone, his best friend was dead, and now his father was mad with anguish. Maybe instead of this Mother would still be helping people, Lyudmil would still be smiling as he always did and his father… Adrian would have a father again, just like they were back then. Father was his teacher, his guide and someone he could always trust and go to when something confused him.
I don’t want to watch him die…
He turned towards the small window that cut through the far edge of his grand chamber. His black heels clicked across the stone floor as he looked down the castle wall to see a night of amber-crimson. The sky was bleeding black and torches surrounded the walls, carried by village people who were no doubt all going to meet their ends here. Adrian had to admit, he appreciated their effort, but they would not survive past the first round if forces.
The only one who had a chance was a man at the head thrashing a whip about and doing more damage than twenty men could have ever done. That must have been the the hunter.
Then a thought came across his mind: maybe he could just let the Belmont take care of this. He was from a family of vampire hunters, was he not? Dracula said to him that “fear is your enemy and your greatest asset; incorrect handling would only result in death.” And Dracula showed fear when this name was uttered, which meant this man stood a chance. Maybe Adrian did not have to kill his father. He could hide here and wait until it was all done…
Then what would he do? What was he running away from? Trying to not be a monster by avoiding patricide? A son who killed his father is indeed a monster, but letting humans die would only be worse. Then what about doing nothing? Now that is the eternal sin.
His mother would be disappointed if he did nothing.
Father has to die… But why must it be by my hands?
It didn’t matter. He could ask that question a thousand times more than he already did but he would always know what the better answer was. So his mind was made up. There will be no more hiding. No more thinking. No more feeling. It was time for battle. He turned from the window and faced the empty and cold dungeon he used to live in.
This is all my fault. I must put an end to this.
This was probably the last time he will ever see this room.
It was a big chamber, a chamber built for a prince. Because that was who he was: the prince of the castle. A prince whose father waged war against the entire human race over the death of his wife and a prince who was to commit treason against his own father. A father whom he loved and hoped he would see the error of his ways.
There was only one time he saw his father’s old self throughout this whole war. He remembered his sunken red eyes looking soberly into his own. He forgot when or why this happened but he will never forget the sincerity when he murmured:
“You look just like your mother…”
Adrian regarded the long locks that lay in his broad shoulders. It was the powdery blond of his mother. He always was the spitting image of her…
And this was the last face his father was going to ever see.
Adrian knelt to one knee. His sword hissed from its sheath in a blind flash and with one solid movement he held his hair in a fist over his shoulder, blade kissing the edges. For a moment he paused, thinking about what he was doing. Thinking made him afraid of losing a part of himself that has been with him for almost his whole life.
You are no longer Adrian, he told himself. You cannot think about these things anymore.
In a heartbeat the blade sliced through his hair, as close to his scalp as he could manage. Soft blond hair lay dead in his ghastly hands and as he looked down into his grasp he watched the cluster of angelic blond fade to black. He could no longer see his hair for it no longer rested upon his shoulders, but he knew his head turned the same shade.
His head was no longer blond like his mother’s, but black like his father’s.
“I will be a monster,” he declared aloud. “But I cannot be the one you wanted me to be.”
He dropped the hair to the ground below him and stood tall. He sheathed his sword and walked to the door of his chamber. He decided he would test this Belmont’s strength. If he proved worthy, he would join forces with him and end this disaster.
Without looking back, Alucard pulled his door open and keeping his gaze ahead of him he shut it behind him.
One of Dracula’s knights noticed him and clamored up to him, not recognizing the stranger that emerged from the young Lord’s chamber.
“Where’s Lord Adrian?” the thing grumbled, holding an axe a hair’s length away from the stranger's pale neck..
With no words the mysterious black-haired vampire held his sword and cut him down in one fell swoop. As the demon writhed in pain on the floor, the vampire said one thing and one thing only: