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Alucard stumbled into the arena of the Reverse Colosseum. He was tired...So tired. He didn't even care what he had to fight this time. Whatever it was, he was going to defeat it. He always does...Although there have been a couple close calls, in which his last resort was to use his Soul Steal spell, because he felt he was close to death. The spell was extremely taxing on his energy, however. He performed it not too long ago.
The dhampir heard a stone door close behind him, and his heart sank. This was going to be a big fight. He couldn't remember the last time he rested. Alucard was confused at first, because there was just silence. Dead, eerie silence that unnerved every fiber of his being.
In the center of the arena lay two coffins. Two...Richter and the lady Maria? His parents...? If he was lucky, they would be two insignificant beings. He stepped forward, caution in every movement. The coffins began to slide open, and the dhampir took a wary step back. Waves of shock and horror washed over him as he watched the beings emerge from their tombs.
From the first coffin stepped a big burly man, boots worn and clothes in tatters. His hair was ragged and overgrown, his face covered in stubble, cheeks sunken in and eyes...One eye was missing. One beautiful blue eye was missing.
“No...It can't be...” the dhampir stuttered.
But it was. He knew it to be true when his eyes rested on the being's chest. The unforgettable gold-embroidered symbol rested there—the Belmont crest.
“No...No, no, no...”
The dhampir's breath hitched, but before any more emotion could come out, the second being stepped out of their coffin. Brown sandals touched cold stone floor. Ripped blue robes draped heavily over a frail body. Orange hair drooped messy and long. Her face was nearly gone, leaving behind a visage with half her skull showing.
“S-Sypha...” Alucard stammered. “Is...Is it really you?”
The Speaker—or, what was left of her—snapped her head up upon hearing her name. She began to move towards him, her steps wobbly and uneven. The dhampir looked down. One of her legs was snapped backwards at the knee. The other being, Trevor, began to move forward as well. He was a bit sturdier, but Alucard noticed he kept slouching forward. The dhampir then noticed a horrible slash that cut cleanly halfway through the Belmont's torso. Alucard felt sick.
“Belmont...” he didn't really know what to say. “Are...Are you okay?”
Alucard felt silly, but for some reason, he kept feeling that somehow, these two people were his friends from centuries ago. As dead and defiled as their bodies looked, he still felt some sort of attachment.
Suddenly, Sypha lunged at him, catching him off-guard. Alucard let out an exclamation of pain as she dug her nails, now claws, into his arm.
“Sypha?!” he yelled in shock. “What are you doing?”
He then noticed Trevor coming forward, wielding his whip.
“P-Please, I don't want to hurt you!” he cried. “Belmont, stop!”
Trevor did not stop. He swung his whip, and the dhampir dodged. His energy levels were still low, and he had no more healing ailments. Sypha attempted another strike, but he evaded the attack. They were going to tire him out at this rate.
He ducked behind a pillar, continuing to dodge his former companions. Trying to catch his breath, he closed his eyes.
“Father...” he gasped. “Why have you done this? Why did you put them here, in this castle...To hurt me even more than you already have?” A small sob escaped his lips, but he had to make a decision. “It's not them...It's not really them.”
Standing to face the two undead doppelgangers, he steeled himself, narrowing his golden eyes. “You're not Trevor,” he said, taking his sword and driving it into the embroidered Belmont crest. The creature let out an unearthly roar, deafening and sinister. Alucard winced, unable to cover his ears. The Belmont, no, the monster, disintegrated by Alucard's holy sword.
He turned to face the false Speaker. “You're not Sypha.”
“I am, Alucard!”
The dhampir froze. “Wh-What? How...?”
“It's me, Sypha Belnades! Please don't hurt me!”
“N-No...You're not real...”
“Look at me, Alucard...Adrian.”
“Don't call me that! You are not Sypha!” Alucard cried.
Tears pricked the corners of his honey eyes, pain erupting in his chest, hearing the voice of Sypha Belnades beg for mercy. He nonetheless prepared his sword, holding it out in front of him so that the sharp blade was pointed towards the siren's heart, if it even had one. Alucard closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and as the Speaker pleaded and begged, he continued to run forward, driving the sword into her chest. She screamed and went up in flames, as Trevor had.
The feeling of driving something into the chest of a loved one felt all too familiar.
The son of Dracula collapsed against a pillar, breaths weak and hands shaky. He closed his eyes and wept.
Trevor and Sypha were not here to comfort him this time.