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This started as a Round Robin fic but is now a collaboration between Gorenza and Ace of Death



chapter 1
Hunted Memories
By Gorenza


As it always has, everything starts with darkness. The trickling sound of broken glass is the first to reach the empty depths. Blue twilight illuminates the outer ridges of the unknown space. Whispers follow in a quire of somber voices, much like the eerie rasp of a cemetery gate. Dark shapes hover and shift around each other. Cordially they dance in an indistinct pattern. Always straying far from the middle of the room. Flashes of light twist the dark space causing nondescript shapes to take real forms. The first shapes appeared to be long wooden chairs. A second flash added stillness to the scene as men and women took space among the void. There bodies covered in flowing robes. A third flash added the bright colors of blue and red stained glass sprawled out upon the floor. The flashes continued each contributing more and more information about what lied with in the darkness.
Lights begin to illuminate just above the crowd of people. The twilight blue receded, as the warm pious light presented it's self with in the chamber. Golden poles began to shine as images of the wandering shadows could be recognized within it. The room was now complete. The white painted walls, the tall and elaborately carved pulpit and the statue of the sanctified virgin maiden stood motionless to the mysterious gathering. The maiden's eyes seemed fixed on a single point of the room. This point, this very center was one in the same, with that where the people had not gathered.
The point drew quite the crowd. Cameras flashed in, people held back others. The gawkiers spent much time squabbling until they herd a young voice call out. The mob turned to the sound of a mild-mannered young boy. Between the crowded bodies pieces of the center where revealed. A leg and arm and much crimson was witnessed before being covered from sight once more. Light of the candles illuminated much of the boy’s body as he walked closer to that which was concealed from him. As he stepped closer to the crowd, features to whom the young boy was presented themselves. Just as he stepped to an arms length of the gathering and his identity nearly confirmed.
Alucard woke up from his coffin. "I haven't had that dream in a while," he smirked. "Well then he must be here. I better go greet my guest then." Alucard retched to grab his trusty handguns. He placed bullets into the chamber in a very calm and precise manner.


Chapter 2: Breathe
By Ace of Death

Caleb Chaturvedi inhaled; his cigarette’s ember flared like the crimson eye of a life-consuming demon as he held it to the lamp flame. He set the lamp back on the small table and removed the cigarette from his lips. Rolling the gray, smoking curse between thumb and forefinger, the yogi gave a wry smile that could only hint at the pain behind it. “Irony incarnate,” he murmured, his brown eyes hardening to their normal emotionless calm.

Again the cigarette came to his lips. He inhaled, tried to hold the miasma in his lungs, but instead succumbed to a paroxysm of coughing. Phlegm bubbled in his lungs like a death rattle. For a moment it seemed the entire universe could not hold enough air to satiate his lungs’ hunger. Iron burned on his tongue, making him spit. A lump of sputum splattered onto the Hellsing killhouse’s concrete floor. Black streaks laced the mass. At least, they looked black in the dim light. Caleb moved the lamp closer to the table edge. Now the streaks assumed their true color: crimson.

Flashes of light, a beautiful maiden, the press of the crowd, scarlet shimmering in candlelight– Scarlet covering the hand that had so many times caressed his face, the arm that had embraced him since his birth– Never again would he feel the warmth of that arm or hear the words of the woman to whom it belonged.

“Mata!” His body jolted at the cry, then the yogi realized it came from his own mouth.

“It’s been fifty years and still…” The Indian’s left hand moved of its own accord to the malas about his neck. His fingers found the white mala and traced the lotus leaves on the tassled meru bead. The gesture only proved symbolic, however, and he knew full well why. His fingers then brushed the crucifix that hung below the meru.

A disturbance in the peace that surrounded Caleb broke him from his reverie. “Ah, he comes. After fifty years of demon hunting, we meet again, King of the Demons.”

The shadows in one of the room’s far corners stirred. A crimson shape coalesced from the void. Two points of orange flashed in the candlelight.

Alucard regarded the man sitting before him, taking in the Indian’s wrinkled features, the orange sash looped over his shoulders, the multiple silver chakram that encircled his arms…

Caleb’s attention remained on the lamp as he took another breath, one of his few remaining, of the poison. The hand holding the cigarette dropped. He ground out the butt on the table before lifting his gaze to peer at the Nosferatu from behind lank locks that hung over his forehead. “You are victorious, Babba,” he grated before the undead could speak.


Author’s notes -
Malas: prayer beads. White ones are for calming and healing.
Mata: mother

Chapter 3: Last chance
by Gorenza

Alucard lightly tapped the small engraving of the word Auto on his Casull. Once, twice and a third time he allowed his finger to tap rhythmically on upon it. Gathering his thoughts of the elderly man’s arrival, he attested, “You believe I am interested in what you have to say.” Alucard’s face was as somber and unwavering as an alabaster crypt. His eyes gleamed like friar's lanterns in the presence of the candlelight.

Caleb’s gravelly voice continued, “You found yourself an excellent hiding place, creature. Your choice of vessels will not protect you much longer.”

“So it’s another fight you seek then, boy? Or is it a mercy killing you wish to ask of me?” Alucard chirped. The lamp shook, the table moaned, the lump of phlegm flattened next to Caleb. A chapter was nearing its end. One that had been building for far too long. Alucards dark excitement was building from deep within. He was quite happy to end it all in one last battle.

“Vetal, I,” Caleb blurted over the shaking room.

“Alucard!” a voice yelled cutting through the noise and interrupting Caleb. The room continued to shake.

Caleb found his moment to add, “I will release it.”

“What the Hell is going on!” Integra Wingates Hellsing entered the room absolutely furious.

The room went quite. “What do you mean?” Alucard blurted.

“What?” Integra was befuddled. “Can I have one cup of tea without you trying to bring down the Goddamn city!”

Alucards gaze did not leave the yogi despite Integra’s displeasure and obvious tea stain lining her once-white blouse. A strange and passing silence filled the room.

“I know, demon, it was you that devoured the soul of Loren Alexandera.”

“This again.”

Integra shook with anger. “I did not authorize guests. Who is this!”

“It’s dead.” Alucard said bluntly.

“It lives in you.” Caleb hissed.

“Enough!” Integra shouted, slamming her sword down on the table in front of them.


Chapter 4: Master
By Ace of Death

“Your presence is not required here, Beti.” Caleb kept his tone emotionless, ice to Integra’s molten fury.

Beti. A term for a child or daughter. Integra stared at the intruder, dumbstruck for the moment at his insolence. No one dared oppose and insult her, especially not a stranger trespassing on her manor grounds.

Alucard spared her a glance. He noted her knuckles whitened on the rapier’s grip as her eyes narrowed. “Would you…” she said to Caleb, barely above a whisper, “care to rephrase that statement before I have my men use you for a rifle target? You are in my killhouse, do not forget.”

Caleb’s attention remained locked on Alucard. “You have done well for yourself this time, Vetal. She is a fine shield for you. She is in your thrall, I suppose.” He gave a dismissive wave. Her presence had little bearing on the situation. “It matters not. You are sheltering one of your kind within you –”

Alucard’s deep laughter cut off Caleb and momentarily distracted Integra from carrying out her threat. The vampire’s coat billowed in a nonexistent wind. The lamp dimmed; his eyes glowed in inverse proportion, as if they sapped its light. “Thrall? And you claim to be a wiseman! You–”

“Aluuucaaaard!” Integra roared, her rapier suddenly free of its scabbard and flashing in the lamplight. “I order you to explain this cur’s presence in my house!”

Alucard sneered. “As you wish, master. Apparently this dog has come here to die. But first he wishes to exact some pitiful vengeance.”

Master? Alucard’s words forced Caleb to at last assess the blond woman. Master of Vetal, the chief of ghouls and vampires? Had Caleb misinterpreted the signs? No. Surely a vetala animated the ancient Dragon’s Son. Then did Vetal instead control this…girl?

Ten years ago the question would have mattered to Caleb. Now, with death approaching, only one fact motivated him.

Chapter 5: Kingfisher Gambit
by Gorenza

Caleb closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His face was soft and his muscles settled. Reaching into himself he gathered an aura of tranquility. In the midst of the angry voice beading down on him he spouted the Gregorian. Her voice began to melt away. To escape such a thing is a easy task. The fearsome presence looming over him was not to be ignored. An unimaginable terror such as this invades your mind. It is out for blood and will not be neglected.

Integra snapped. Though her voice was lost to Caleb she ordered her men about. "Get him out of my sight, now!" Trained soldiers began pouring into the room wearing their assault uniforms. Protective gear that proudly displayed the Hellsing family crest upon them.

Alucards teeth clenched. The tension was rising twitching thought his being like the pounding of war drums. "He his prepared," Alucard breathed heavily, "He is waiting for death." The men moved in to intercept the chanting Caleb only to meet the demonic sweeping back hand of Alucards horrific form. The men bounced against the walls landing fast to the floor.

Sparks traveled from Calebs body both knocking out light and gathering into points around the room. The room now black except for the sparks and the nightmearish light given off by Alucard. Glowing figures arose from the illuminated points surrounding Caleb and Alucard. Each figure dressed in simple garb and faced the center of the room.

All that was happening in front of Integra was plain to see. She thrust her sword artful through one of the glowing figures. The blade passed right through as though it were made of heavy mist. They each seemed to be chanting as Caleb had. Their voices where not audible. As this oddity struck Integra she had notice Calebs voice had become mute as well.

A small mysterious voice whispered, disrupting the silence,
"Though truth is hidden and players unknown. They chanced upon the killing grounds. The string of cats was meant for play. Sorrow song will be the tone. The string was the cats delight. Bounding and weaving thought the fray. The game now changed when the string pulled tight." Integra held fast.

Alucard readied his blood thirsty arm. He was eager to deliver the first and perhaps final blow. Swift and jagged he was the decent of his claw. The threshold of Calebs body was yet to be reached. Before this another had crossed into the path. The words, " I will not be ignor..." was spat out in a very familiar voice. Shortly after the rend had been completed he realized his misstep.


Chapter 6: Blind
By Ace of Death

Integra’s body fell from Alucard’s desecrating hand with a spray of crimson and gore. Blood gushed from her mouth, extinguishing the order that had only half departed her lips. Her blood, hot and dark, burned like flames along the vampire’s arm. Her blessed blood…

“Impossible!” Alucard hissed through an agony worse than the cuts of Anderson’s hundred bayonets. “The Seals…” The Laws of the Seals prevented the Bird of Hermes from harming any of the Hellsing blood–

Then he knew. His lips pulled back to reveal his dragon grin; his teeth sharpened to razors. If the intruder thought to use his abilities to control Alucard’s perception, the vampire would soon disabuse him of the notion. Tricking the trickster would prove far more difficult than Caleb had anticipated.

The yogi watched, devoid of emotion, as the truth dawned on the red demon. Judging by his reaction, the girl must somehow wield a sorcerer’s power to hold the vetala in servitude. She posed no danger at the moment, however.

“The sight of the eyes is not sight.” The misty, white phantoms spoke in a chorus. “But he is blessed with vision who possesses knowledge; the ignorant are the blind.”

Alucard towered to his full height. “Ignorant, am I? Hah!” He shook out his arm. The blood and pain had vanished when he recognized them as illusions. Hunger for battle and the carnage it brought surged through him like a flashflood. Rarely did his opponents possess the level of power the Indian displayed.

The figures began to sway and chant. They cared not for the vampire’s strength. A river of power flowed through the room, setting the chamber’s contents vibrating. The hum infected the living – and unliving. Several of the soldiers stirred, tried to rise, but they could only shift position. Integra tried to advance, but like her men she found herself all but paralyzed.

“You shall know my pain, vetal,” Caleb intoned. His misery slept in a cage deep within his soul. It refused to leave no matter how he tried to banish it. So he let it slumber. The yogi’s eyes opened, blazing like suns with the power he channeled. “The pain of existing.”

Alucard’s laugh rumbled through the killhouse, thunder drowning out the mosquito whine of the yogi’s energy. “Yes! Yes!” the vampire cried. “Commit yourself to death, but do not surrender! Give me a true battle. Show me your power, mystic!”

“Every one looking downwards becomes impressed with his own greatness; but looking upwards, feels his own littleness.” The words came from everywhere and nowhere. Whether they echoed only in the minds of the hearers none of the room’s mortals could discern.

The auras around the figures intensified, for a moment flashing bright enough to blind. Alucard blinked as the light subsided. Around him the figures murmured. Above, a maiden gazed upon him with stone eyes.


Chapter 7: Tempered walls


Slowly drawing his heavy gun on Caleb Alucard glanced to view the presence above him. "Yet another friend of yours impious monk?" Adjusting his gun sight he lamented "I thought only the meek travel in packs." Alucard fired a round at Caleb while simultaneously whipping his second arm to aim and fire his Jackal at the statuesque figure.

The first bullet traveled very near Calebs face. As the bullet advanced into the path of Calebs burning gaze it stopped instantly. The projectile began to sear and smoke as it were being heated inside a smelting pot. The hot material liquefied in mid air splashing futility upon the ground. Stranger still an aura of energy hung in the air in place of the bullet pulsing with radiance.
The second bullet fired above slipped though shimmering space. The entire open ceiling of the kill house seemed to be covered by it. The space cleaved the shell in half causing it to fall erratically to the floor. The statue seemingly unamused by Alucards reaction to this stood upon the invisible space drawing a sword, and promptly pointed the blade at his head.

With Alucards attention divided between the foe above and mild amusement, Caleb and the seven phantoms lifted their right hands directing their focused on the growing ball of energy. The power left in the bullets absence quickly began to grow. "Oh," Alucard reacted to the statues threat, "We have met before, haven’t we?" At this point the sphere reached the size of a cannon ball and with the flick of Calebs wrist scattered like grape shot hurling it's self towards Alucard.
The hurling spheres ripped through gut and flesh as they came in contact with their intended target. Surprise twisted a crossed Alucards face as the shrapnel continued to burst with in.
Some holes billowed smoke. One of his shoulders was mangled. The new whole in his stomach reveled much of his exposed spine. Black and gaunt the column sizzled as his flesh vaporized upon it.

“Ahguh,” Alcuard cough, “Exceptional! What a splendid start!” He rushed morbidly towards Caleb. The missing pieces with in his torso oozed murky fluid reconnecting while he ran. Calebs gaze merely passed through Alucards battle torn body. Little could be done to stop the berserker -rush the vampire unleashed. For a moment Caleb looked hesitant his hands flung to a new position. Snapping back into his normal appearance, “Is it time already” Caleb thought while his body jerked into the Abhaya Mudra. Alucards maw ferociously widened as he thrust his arm at his startled opponent. Gruesome sound of cleaving could be heard as blood and gore arched about the room. Caleb smiled grimly, “Vetal you must try again.” Alucards arm fell to the ground still wrapped in his choice of wardrobe.

Integra weakly watched the whole scene unable to aid her charge. “Judith,” she glared at the feminine statue. The thing had moved quickly in the moments of Alucards attack. It had passed through the plane in which it stood upon. In moments created a new plane with the swipe of its sword dividing the room. A Hellsing operative was split in half along with Alucards amputated limb. “Oh I intend to,” Alucard laughed excitedly. “I like your game! But do you intend keep applying limits? Trap me like some sort of vermin? Waiting for the death blow?” Caleb stoically gazed upon Alucard his eyes began to glow again. “I’ve seen your cage…,” Alucards body withed unnaturally lurching and repositioning. “It’s too elegant,” His hat tilted its self down his face and with a plop his clothes fell to the floor. Nothing but a pile clothes seemed to left of where he stood. His voice echoed throughout the room. “Let me show you a proper cage!”

The statuesque being thrust it’s sword among the clothing. Tossing the items around it found nothing but small holes in the ground.



Chapter 8: Cage
By Ace of Death

“Give me an order, Master.” The deep, velvet voice whispered in Integra’s mind. It caressed, begged, like a thing alive.

Integra closed her eyes for a moment. When they opened once more, they blazed with the fire of her righteous anger. “Situation A…”

Darkness blanketed the killhouse. Crimson vapors filled the rooms. The darkness deepened, now almost palpable. Caleb held his ground and watched, impassive, as the demon’s power spread and grew. The yogi’s hands formed the Karana mudrā. “Your power is meaningless, vetala,” he murmured.

Scarlet light began to glow about Caleb. The light shifted as if shinning through flowing wine. “Come into my elegant cage, cur. Come dance with me!” a voice echoed around a chamber far larger than the original killhouse room.

The light spread to the walls. Frescoes materialized, covering the walls to tower over Caleb. As the crimson vapors shifted, he made out the designs. Creatures from the pits of Hell and Caleb’s darkest nightmares cavorted in the frescoes. Bodies writhed in agony through the images as the subjects endured countless tortures. Each body wore the face of Caleb’s mother. While the yogi felt his throat tighten at the scenes, his hands replied with the Dhyāna mudra.

Caleb saw an open door and decided to take the bait. Through the portal he found a terrace. Darkness thigh as tar wrapped the balcony, obscuring the view beyond. A tingle of energy drew Caleb’s attention to the ceiling. Here one image appeared as it should: An old man holding a scythe and riding in a chariot with two wyvern steeds. “I have not neglected my duty, Shani,” Caleb informed the fresco. Then he fell into a mantra, “Om Sham Shanaischaryaye Namah.” As Caleb chanted, the old man’s skin began to shrink around his bones. Two more pairs of arms sprouted from the form. The scythe lengthened as black blades sprouted from the weapon. Meanwhile, the reptile steeds transformed. Their wings grew batlike, hydra heads tore through their backs to hiss and snap.

The horrors crawled from the fresco, intent upon their prey. Caleb continued chanting, his robe stirring in the power flux. The dragons lunged as the corpse raised its scythe- Suddenly they exploded in a cloud of red mist. Judith stood in their place, vapors swirling about her sword. A voice neither male nor female rumbled from the statue: “Behold the neck of pride severed by the hand of humility.”

As if in reply to Caleb’s offense, a figure materialized at the far end of the Terrace. He wore a priest’s robe from half a century ago. Crimson light strobed across the phantom’s features. Caleb’s pulse quickened despite himself as he recognized his foe. An illusion, surely… His mind took refuge in another mantra.

“Justice will be done,” Caleb said, “whether in this Hall or another.” He stepped forward, but not because Alucard had lured him into the game. Caleb would not forget his purpose here. If the vetala insisted on hiding from and toying with him, then let it. The demon would regret its choice.

Caleb found himself in a hall. The walls melted and reformed as the floor heaved like the deck of a ship at sea. A door between two massive black pillars at the passage’s terminus swung open; scarlet light spilled into the hall.

The yogi’s even tread carried him forward, but he had advanced hardly a yard before thousands of bloody eyes rolled open about him. “To him who has ears to hear and eyes to see,” Alucard mocked, his tone singsong. All eyes swiveled to regard the door. Caleb’s power shimmered about him as he proceeded toward the portal.

From the darkness Alucard watched his foe. Not all pain came from bullets and bites, as Caleb would discover. Alucard had learned this decades ago. The agony one could inflict upon one’s own soul dwarfed any other misery.

A drop of blood fell from the corner of one of the thousand eyes.

Chapter: 9 Menacing Mimesis
The blood wept downward cascading woefully to the floor. Calebs shoulder twitched. Holding his body position and keeping faithful to the ward that had protected him all this time. Caleb closed his eyes. Diligence and perseverance was his greatest ally. The lines that crossed his brow became more prominent. Each crease became far more gnarled and worn like the tattered folds of an ancient map. Caleb breathed deeply and exhaled threefold. Again he inhaled this time through the nose as his lips grew tight. His jaw locked and uncomfortable. He had seen it. The blood was in his mind.

His silver chakrams moved with is increasingly stiffing body. The malas around his neck began to bound with every breath. Caleb had not trained for this kind of stirring. His mind jolted and lunged like an amusement park ride, preparing for its first decent. That all familiar crimson carried a power. That power inflicts. The memories came crashing back. Pounding like waves beating against a castle wall of sand. Caleb opened his eyes. Pulling off his chakram and scraping its sharp edge against his hand. Perhaps pain would bring him back. As he looked around he had noticed his world was becoming fearfully indistinguishable.

Wordless tableau set the stage. Calebs mind called to action the silent play. His body struggled and retched as remembered moments began to take form in front of him. The nightmarish-shapes had all vanished as the new scene began to unfold. Alucard lurked in the background casually walking about the shadows of the play. He appeared quite well kempt and regal despite his obvious amusement. Caleb shuttered at the tear of blood that formed a familiar pool adorned by a familiar wrist. That wrist so recognizable and loved did not simple lye there lifeless as it had. It snapped revealing a beautiful and feminine hand. Fingers that twitched with life and reached out for affection. Light cast about the extremity revealing more accessories. An arm and a shoulder could now be seen. It continued to elaborate to see the gruesome mangled chest and neck. It’s torso hinged to sit up. It’s eyes dead and faded blinked to life.

Standing the corpse seemed almost normal. Still haunting was the fist sized hole inflicted in her chest. Billowing from it was dark shadowy matter defusing in the air like black tar fire. The progression of this began to form inward. The hole sealed up and the woman regained her warm and lively demeanor. She walked in reverse until she could no longer be seen. She returned in a different outfit and appearing a bit younger. A small boy with dark skin, many shades darker then hers, walked stiff leggedly to her. In moments they were gone. In their place the same boy and woman. She was sitting in a small bed his head was laying on her lap. She had a holy book in hand as she slipped mala beads into his. Alucard perched himself on the far end of the bed staring intently at the boy grinning sharply. He interrupts the touching seen, “Oh, I see it,” he turns to Caleb grimacing at what is before him.

In the chest of young Caleb beats a darkness. With white malas in hand he places the beads to that pulsing shadow that is beneath. “Enough vatal,” Caleb murmured. Alucard turned back to the boy and eerily reached into his chest, “Isn’t this..”. The boy immediately sat up. Caleb cringed as Alucard had trouble pulling his arm back with that he reached for. The boy’s body lunged back and forth as Alucard jerked his arm to loosen the dark mass from it’s home. The mother screamed as the boys eyes rolled back in his head. He managed to pull the shadowy thing out, “...why you’re here” he asked. The final pull caused the boy to fall back into his mothers lap. She appeared jarred as other people entered the room.

“That’s not a part of me anymore.” Caleb insisted. The object swirled and wriggled like some sort of vile beast, “It’s a part of me.” He placed his white gloved hand in front of Caleb displaying the thing, “And you want it back. Tired of pretending? Plan on accepting what you are?” Alucard dropped the quivering mass on the floor. It crept closer to Caleb. “Wither I kill you with or without it. It matters not so long as it is destroyed,” Caleb rasped. The mass crept to a point that Caleb could no longer ignore it. He tossed his silver chakram at it splitting it in two. “Ludicrous! I know what you have done. What you have allowed it to become. The damage you have caused. Boy I’ve conquered your beast.”

Caleb pounded his fist into the open cut in his hand helping him find his center. “Loren’s soul cannot rest till I rid this of you.”
“Children playing with dangers they don’t understand,” Alucard taunted. As their heated argument continues the scene playing about them unfolds further. The young Caleb praying over dead wild dogs, and older children. People and things that tried to hurt him or subjugate him. He blacked out and the dark within took over and dispatched those laying before him. The bodies withered away as he prayed. His face griped in fear and grief over the situation. The boy stood up frustrated and fed up. Turned his focused on himself causing him great pain, withering away at his heart, he prayed. The mass of darkness was coughed up. As soon as it hit the ground it scattered off.

Alucards eyes rolled to the situation in the scene. Watching as the dark beast inflicted others, gathering strength. “Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. The final condition of that man is worse than the first. That is how it will be with this wicked generation.” It finds young Caleb once more and possesses him. A sinister look donned his shadowy face.


Chapter 10: Purge
By Ace of Death

Caleb’s eyes closed as he fought to maintain his center through Pranayama. Shoulders up, ribs out. Puraka, Abhyantara Kumbhaka, Rechaka, Bahya Kumbhaka – inhale, pause, exhale, pause. The gash on his hand ceased throbbing. “Lies,” he sighed. But…did the vetala really dissemble? Caleb’s memory of his childhood resembled a garment left long in Deshnoke: shredded, chewed, more rents than substance.

When King Vikramaditya matched wits with the vetala in the graveyard, the vetala tricked him. Only after the king proved himself did the vetala reveal the truth and save the king’s life. In the same act, however, the vetala also saved itself.

The image of young Caleb dissolved in a swirl of black and scarlet. Eyes surfaced within the whirlpool, rolling in the current. Arms crossed, one hand stroking his sharp chin, Alucard sidled about the dreamspace. “Lies?” A grin devoid of humor split his features, stretching ear to ear as his attention turned to the yogi. “You shake, pup. Could this mean you doubt your declaration? Come!” He stopped, spread his arms wide and threw his head back. Looking down his nose, he taunted, “Has the power of Prapti deserted you? Then use it! Look into me and learn if I lie or if I speak the truth.”

As if of their own will Caleb’s hands formed the Vajra mudrā. The threads of energy refused to come to him despite his efforts to tempt them. Voices and images jumbled in his mind, jerking him from his center. “Vetala…” he growled.

“What’s this?” Alucard hissed, head cocked, still grinning. A low laugh rumbled from his throat. At the sound the gaping maws of two monstrous Hellhounds surged from the turbulence behind him. They snaked about him, saliva flying from their lips, thousands of eyes blazing.

They rushed Caleb. But before they could tear him apart, a storm of silver chakrams sliced into them. They dissolved in mist. Caleb coughed, wincing at the rattle in his chest. His body had retaliated with the chakram, not a mudra. Blood began to drip from his hand’s laceration and pool on the shifting floor.

“As I thought,” Alucard murmured. “You are indeed weak, boy.”

The No Life King stepped aside from the maelstrom like an emce vacating the stage before the performance. “‘Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped,’” he quoted.

The mists churned, then with a concussion like silent thunder they cleared. Caleb’s breath quickened; his throat spasmed, almost closed. His young frame stood beside his mother as she waved goodbye to a man in official garb. His father. The sunset’s crimson silhouetted mother and son in the doorway. The perspective shifted, now shaky and low. Black tendrils lashed across the view of his father’s retreating form. Strands of darkness swirled about the man, forming arcane symbols before enveloping him and the vision.

Before Caleb could open his mouth to protest the torment, blood exploded from the midnight to knock him to his knees. His mother appeared, her face in her hands as she wept. A newspaper photo flashed over the scene. The image showed corpses littering a ballroom. Blood stained the wall, chairs, floor. A photo below the first showed what remained of his father.

Young Caleb looked on, a smile on his lips. His thin frame’s edges blurred with darkness. The tendril-laced perspective returned. “Now Famine will come.” A child’s voice. His own, Caleb realized. His mother raised her head, eyes wide in horror.

He shook his head, closing his eyes, trying to block the sight. “No, no, I will not succumb. This is not how…” But no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyelids, the vision remained. It permeated his consciousness. Vetalas possessed knowledge and wisdom, but the vetala inside this crimson monster swore devotion to the girl sorcerer. Could Caleb really trust what he saw?

“This is far from over,” Alucard’s voice echoed. Caleb pitched forward onto his hands and knees, retching blood.

Judith’s emotionless face appeared, jittery through the black tendrils. Above her glittered a honycomb of gold and blue fleur-de-lys. The rugged features of a middle-aged man in suplice and purple stole appeared, blocking the gold. His blue eyes looked down with kindness and concern. A crucifix rose to in turn obscure his face. “Loren Alexandera,” Caleb choked. Pain wracked his body as the view flickered.

“Ah, the Chapel,” Alucard remarked as if commenting on the weather. “A point of Family power.” He smiled, smug. “Is a priest not supposed to rely on Heaven’s power only?”

The yogi looked down to see, now from a distance, the silhouettes of a boy in a chair and a tall man in priest’s vestments. Their surroundings fell into a gloom thick as tar. A crimson spotlight focused on the pair, leaving a ring of white light about the perimeter. An eye, and the figures occupied its center. Strands of darkness whipped from both phantoms to intertwine tendrils. Within the darkness, fading in and out of sight, the heads of mutated beasts bucked. They slammed the edges of the silhouettes in a vain attempt to meet.

The darkness in the boy grew, pulsed, as the beasts within pushed farther and farther toward the man. In response, Loren’s darkness rose to tower above the scene. The priest crossed himself as he braced as if against a gale. Then with another concussion the dual creatures of darkness threw themselves at each other in a swirl of Stygian gloom.

Caleb tried to breathe but couldn’t. Panoramas of battles, plagues, famines, and darkness roiled in his mind’s eye. Dimly he realized he’d curled into a ball. Yet still men slaughtered, maimed, tortured one another; fires consumed cities while peasants scraped their boils; children cried as mothers butchered them for sustenance; vultures tore at carcasses as sketchy outlines of four horses thundered through the nightmares.

“Deliver us, O Lord,” an Irish voice intoned beneath the visions. For a moment, screams garbled the words. “From Plague, Famine, and War, from everlasting Death,” it continued. Then, as suddenly as they’d come, the horrors vanished.

Young Caleb slumped unconscious in a chair before a panting Loren. Judith looked on, impassive. With a shriek Caleb’s mother dashed between the combatants. Two priests chased her, catching her by the arms before she could fling herself upon her son. “Caleb!” she wept. She went limp in their grasp, tears flowing. Then she surged toward the boy. Surprised, the men’s grip loosened.

“No!” the blue-eyed priest roared. Caleb’s voice blended with the exorcist’s as the yogi struggled to his knees. But the warning and desperate grab for the woman came an instant too late. Gore exploded from her back. Death came so swiftly that the compassion she had felt a second earlier froze on her face. The boy’s hand protruded from her corpse. His fingers waggled in a parody of a wave. Blood dripped down his face as he grinned at the clergy. The perspective cut to the boy’s as he regarded his foes with amusement. Caleb couldn’t think, could only stare.

The tall priest lunged, spilling the boy from the chair and landing atop him. Again from the birdseye view the yogi watched. The youth struggled, but he couldn’t break Loren’s grip on his throat. The dark beasts within the two flickered into view. Now the roiling blackness within the exorcist enveloped the writhing boy. It swelled, doubling in size, pulsing with energy. When it withrdrew, it revealed young Caleb, unconcious but purged. Exhausted, the priest too collapsed.

“Lies, more lies,” Caleb babbled. “You were not even present–”

“These aren’t my memories, you know,” Alucard said in Caleb’s ear. Somehow he’d moved to within inches of the yogi without the Indian’s knowledge. Alucard smiled at his opponent’s weakness. He paused, savoring the tension like a sommelier with an aged vintage. “They…are yours.”



New PostPosted: Fri Jun 08, 2012 7:04 pm


Chapter 11: Edge of legend

Alucards word rang truer than any. “Your lies…are truth,” Caleb unnerved, resenting that which he had repressed. Staring blankly in Alucards cold carmine eyes. Images of the intrepid Loren preformed within the non-luminous background of the eyes. The heroic endeavors of the, now reticent, priest as remembered. The battles that waged against the darkness, which threatened innocent lives, clipped by like that of a classic film. Each gory detail relived through memories thought to be long lost by Caleb.

He looked at Alucard with disgust, “You have changed.”
“Then, you recognize I am stronger than before.”
“You have power. This is not what matters. You are different.”
“You’re riddling tongue. Humm, are you trying to escape your fate?”
“I’ve known you before. You taunt now when then you would strike.”
“Amusing. I suppose you bring something out in me. I can’t say I haven’t noticed,”Alucard holds his gun against Caleb’s temple.
“You have lost sight of your enemy,”Caleb pushed his forehead against the barrel of the gun.
Alucard sneered.
“Those souls who agape, best not seek convivial counsel with the morose and unsettled.” Caleb quoted.
“Lorens final words,” Alucard mentioned. All the while noticing the barrel of his gun is giving off waves of heat.
“What did you think he meant vetal?”
“You or your mother,” he looked widely into Caleb’s eyes, ‘Or God. What does it matter?” Alucard reached to pull the trigger. Something inside him gripped him insisting he stop his action. A confused and agitated look cursed his face. He struggled to fight this foreign urge. “What is this?” Alucard stares at his uncooperative limb. “What have you done monk!”


“Proven a point.”
“What!” Alucard managed to fight through strange feeling and pull the trigger. However the chamber did not fire the round. Darkness radiated from cylinder. “Miss fired?!” Such a thing has never been the case.
Caleb smiled a wary and beaten smile. “You devoured the only man who can help you with that which inflicts you.”
“So, your martyrius ways were a ruse all along?”
“What must be done is unchanged.” Caleb stoically insisted. “You helped me understand. I had given up truth. You have become lost. The cycle must be mended. Less we forfeit", Caleb though of how Loren would put it, ‘the accelerando’ of life.” Caleb boldly strutted a crossed the room putting distance in-between Alucard and himself. The surreal background shifted as he moved. Each step he took caused the memory dreamscape melted away. Returning to the twisted piazza that invited him in. Now standing in the open air looking out into the dark night. Through cracked and warped pillars brilliant lightning ripped through the sky. Above him a ceiling depicting a intricate scene dedicated to Saturn, god of Time. Caleb let out a small chuckle, “How much of this did you really think was your own design Vetal?”


Alucard stood in the shadows tall and fearsome. Lightning splashing light a crossed his dark clothing. He looked as black-hearted and menacing as he had ever been. He crept. His pace was slow and purposeful like that of a man who had a single purpose in mind. He all the time in the world to perform his task. Caleb’s back was turned as he spoke. Proud and undeterred he continued talking. “Loren is still alive. This is the proof. He has been talking to me through you.” Caleb touched the cracked pillar and looked over the edge of the terrace. The ground far below was crowded with old evils, statues of horrors and impaled bodies. “His family is tied this place. Medici famil…”


Alucard grabbed Caleb by the neck and with both hands lifted him from the ground. Choking Caleb he lifted him over the edge of the terrace. Alucard grinning with sadistic enjoyment watched as he continued the debauchery. Stepping still further off the ledges bring his body dangerously close to the ground below. Alucard then pulled one hand off to spin Caleb around. He would watch the face of the strangled man to increase his delight. To his shock the face of his captive had changed. It wasn’t wracked with fear or pain. Also eerily it's physical features were dissimilar. The face was smaller almost emaciated yet peaceful. He didn’t appear to be the same man at all. Alucard loosened his grip a bit.


“Do you understand now?” The man who would be Caleb rasped. The man’s new image wore on Alucard. He had seen this face before but not with his own eyes. “This is about family…”. The curiosity of this was beating down on Alucard, “Who are you?” The old man continued, “This is about blood.” Alucard shook the man, “What is your name!” The man’s eyes where full of oozing blackness making a mirror like shine upon them. “It’s about the end of days,”



Chapter 12: Dance
By Ace of Death

Alucard stared, his face twisting into a grimace of disgust. “Then you are just another demon ranting about the end of time. Afraid of being thrown into the Abyss, are you?” The creature may not tell his plans, but Alucard cared little about them at the moment.

Caleb, or rather what now only bore a shadow of resemblance to the yogi, laughed. It sounded like sun-dried bones cracking. “The pieces are falling into place for the end of all things, vetala. Do you fear your place in the great suffering to come? You cannot stop it, neither can you slow its advent.”

“You are mad,” Alucard said through clenched fangs. The muscles of his hand stood out under the glove’s glowing sigil as he choked Caleb. The neck, which felt as frail as a bird’s, refused to yield, however. Frustration and rage reared in Alucard. “You will die!”

“Death is an illusion for us.” The darkness in Caleb’s eyes swirled and deepened. The powers of the yogi belonged to him once and for all now. “You of all people should know that. We meet and grapple with one another, but we do not slay.” His hands, resembling skeletal phalanges, wrapped around Alucard’s wrist. They dug in like a raptors talons. The yogi’s weight began to increase. “Our meetings herald mighty changes in the world. When my ancient blood met Loren’s, when the Fleet Goat and the Wild Elephant crossed–”

Alucard gave his victim a shake as if dislodging a cockroach or other loathsome creature. “Enough!” He hurled the shrunken Caleb into the hellscape below.

Twisted and mutated beasts leapt from their pedestals to catch their prey, but he disappointed them. Instead of shattering on the flagstones or under the claws of the monsters, he rose. Assuming the Lotus Pose, he floated level with Alucard. Caleb’s hands formed the Dharmacakra mudrā.

When he lifted his eyes to look upon the Count, Alucard caught his breath despite himself. Eyes as blue as lightning and hard as steel stared back at him. Alucard recognized those eyes – how he recognized them! Then Caleb’s face began to change to match the gaze. Wild hair and beard, those strong features… Integra would have recognized some of the features when she looked in a mirror. “Abraham,” Alucard murmured.

“We've all become God's madmen, all of us,” Caleb said in a voice that no longer belonged to the Indian.

Gunfire thundered; the twin muzzles flared like lightning. When Alucard looked over the iron sights he saw only emptiness. Below, the monsters yet howled for prey. “What the–” He never missed.

“A vampire can tear men apart like rags.”

Alucard spun about to see the blue eyes looking back at him from a younger man’s face. “Blood, remember?” the man said. “It controls us all.”

“You’re dead too.” A gunshot obscured the last word as Alucard sought to rid himself of the mocker. The wall absorbed the bullet in its shifting depths.

“Two can play this game,” the vampire continued, tipping the Jackal’s smoking barrel so its eye stared at the ceiling. His fangs flashed in a smile as black mist rose about him. When the miasma faded, it took the undead with it.

The yogi balanced on one foot on the balcony rail. He kept his hands pressed together before him. His eyes stared without sight into the darkness. He let out a breath through his pursed lips. As he did, the surroundings shifted. Again the chamber resembled the Chapel where Caleb had wreaked such horrors as a boy.

At the base of the statue of Judith waited Caleb’s mother, her black hair whipping about her, her arms outstretched for her son’s approach. Her lips curved in a welcoming smile. “Come, my Caleb,” she pleaded.

The man once known as Caleb looked on with the same dispassion he would have shown had he stared at a wall. “I have come to terms with my guilt. As water exposed to the sun’s light vanishes, so my guilt has evaporated. I can no longer drown. What is done is done; I pay for the sins.”

“You are a wicked son!” howled his mother. Her face warped, elongated. Three more pairs of arms sprouted from her sides. One hand held a bow, another a sword, another a scythe, and still another a set of scales. Two others gripped handguns: one black, one silver. Talons sprouted from the remaining hands.

“How many times must we do this before you learn it is useless, vetala?” the old man said.

Alucard looked out of the woman’s eyes upon his opponent. Why the hands held what they did – aside from his guns – Alucard couldn’t say for certain.

In his soul the hellhounds’ darkness surged, begging for release like hunting dogs crying for the chase. He obliged. As visions of Caleb’s mother’s death flashed about the combatants, the beasts howled and writhed about them. They craved the yogi’s destruction, yet they did not strike, despite Alucard’s urging. This…had never happened before!

“I have danced with devas,” the old man grated. He again occupied the Lotus Pose, his skeletal form folding like broken twigs. Then he raised a hand. In response, Judith dropped her foe’s corpse and stepped forward to interpose herself between master and vampire. Caleb’s mother wore a shocked look for an instant before her head dropped from her shoulders and rolled across the floor. Blood geisered once, twice, three times, but the corpse still stood as Judith returned her sword to a ready position.

The Jackal and Casull snapped forward. The old yogi only shook his head. “You cannot prevail.” Thunder from the weapons boomed over the last word, rendering it inaudible. A storm of silver bullets passed Caleb. While they ruffled his hair and stirred his robes, they left him unscathed.

“Enough,” the old man murmured. At his word, the corpse before him joined its head on the ebony floor. “You do not impress me,” he continued. “Relinquish what I have come for so that your end may be swift and painless.”

Yeah, I'll do it (hey, why shouldn't I start yet another project? O_o ). But I'm bad at being first in these things.

thanks for starting^^ ill be glad to do it after i see how it kinda works sweatdrop

yay!! more peoepl who wanna join in^^

I put the people who are interested in the first post. If we don't get a new person within a few days we'll do it just between the 4 of us.

yeah, that would work^^
and cool clothes^^ its matches good^^ and Alucard_ has a cool siggy and Marines siggy is cool too^^ i envy XD

Okay, if someone doesn't reply within the next 3 days, it's the people that are on that list. I'll try to recruit some people from other places in the meantime