Castlevania: Genesis and Revelations

IX.

"Shaft?" Maria uttered the name like a curse.

"Yes!" Richter also answered by unfurling Vampir Killer, the whip, from his belt. "Be ready."

The shadowy figure was striding alone, purposefully, towards them through the mist. Was it him, the dark priest? the Vampir hunter asked himself. Globes of purple light began to swirl around him. Two slits which were his eyes burned like malevolent lanterns in the night. He extended an arm in a dismissive gesture and the globes flew out with ferocious crackling.

Yes, came the answer. Who else wielded that kind of power so readily?

Richter was almost spellbound by the sight of his old enemy and his display, yet not so much that when one of the globes dived right for him he didn't leap aside. It flew through a tree and exploded pine needles in every direction. He smelled his own scorched hair. That was close. He cracked the whip at the nearest tree, where a torch was clamped to it. An talisman of alchemical transformation dropped from the splinters, reformed his whip into an iron chain. He desperately wished to lengthen the reach of the whip and create holy artifacts, but there was barely enough time to conceive the idea when two of the lights blazed down upon him. He blindly struck out at them both and one vanished into thin air, the other swerved away and tore off towards Maria. Another globe formed at the side of Shaft.

This was getting them nowhere.

Shaft was a sorcerer and this witchcraft was his creation. Distraction would break his concentration... Dizzy and drained, his heart stuck in his dry throat, Richter charged at the dark priest. He crashed into the stunned figure and the two tumbled end over end. The globes faded away. He landed on top of him and held him fast to the ground. For a moment there was just their heavy breathing, then Richter thought he saw a smirk on the fiend's face. At once sudden fury poured out through his fists into Shaft, pounding his head with the butt end of the whip and smashing his jaw with the other.

He felt insistent arms tug at him, trying to pull him away from Shaft.

"What! For everything, Maria. For everything!" Richter snarled, not letting his eyes off the bleeding Shaft for a moment. His mind at last breathlessly caught up with his rage, and he realized what her purpose was.

"I understand, Richter, and any other time, I'd wish you well in tearing him apart. Only you need him now to find Gregor."

"You're...you may be right," he breathed, pained from denying himself the luxury of punishing him terribly for all he'd done. Who could say? Maybe it was God's will that he suffer at His hands alone.

He quickly regretted letting his guard down. Richter suddenly felt himself being hurled through the air, into Maria, over her, and landing hard against a tree. He tried to move. No, not this time. His body refused to work. Maria, he saw hazily, was lying face down into the earth. Shaft stepped over her and stalked towards him, seemingly unconcerned about the blood pouring down his face. Richter mustered the sheer will to scrape himself up the tree, to force himself to stand one way or another. To either kill Shaft or die on his feet trying.

Richter was not sure his eyes were playing tricks on him, when he saw another figure walk up behind Shaft and, with a simple gesture, make him disappear. In the open, under the sanguine moonlight, it became clear who he saw: Shaft. There was no mistaking it. The long regal crimson robe with gold trim, the contemptuous sneer on his pale face -- it was Shaft. His relief turned to renewed wariness he couldn't enforce if he had to. More than that, his mind scrambled for an answer to explain who the other being was...

"He was a doppelganger of myself, Richter," Shaft answered him, his hands clasped behind his back, his chin upturned and examing him from one eye. "I'm rather surprised you maintained yourself as long as you had against it, my aging mortal friend. I must say, I was almost content to leave you two to each other's destruction."

"Why didn't you do it, you whore of the Devil!" the Vampir hunter spat venomously.

Shaft barked a poor travesty of a laugh. "It is not the place of an imitation to determine your fate. No, no, that wouldn't do. It served its purpose well enough, though, I must admit. It brought me your son, and you to me."

"If you're going to kill me, then kill me and have done with it," Richter demanded, "but spare Maria and my son."

"None shall be spared from the reign of Lord Dracula and Chaos."

"No! Not while--" Richter flung himself at Shaft, the whip upraised in his hand "--I'm here..." But his effort fell short and he collapsed at the feet of the dark priest.

"Who?" Shaft asked him scornfully. He spread out his arms and he, Richter and Maria followed the lead of the doppelganger and his fireballs, and vanished from the night.

--

Richter surfaced from the darkness. Unwillingly. The call to the comfort of sleep was strong, but a sense of alarm tearing the warm blankets from him was stronger. His senses still returned slowly, the Vampir hunter first realizing that that he was seated at a wooden table with his head buried in his arms, then that he was not able to move any of his limbs, or himself from the chair. The alarm solidified and took a name. Shaft...the pathway to the castle...failing... He willfully lifted his head and pried his eyes open. Shaft, across the table, was gazing coldly upon him, the way a man might study an insect. Neither man made the move to break the silence.

Richter's forehead creased into a hard frown. The room, the chamber, was instantly familiar. It was Count Dracula's resting place. So, he was inside the heart of Castlevania itself. The architecture of the room had not changed much since he last saw it, or from the details listed in the Codex Diabolum. The Count himself, where was-- My God! His blood stopped cold in his veins when his eyes stumbled upon a horrific sight in the shadows of the raised alcove dominating the head of the room:

Maria was lain atop a casket -- surely that of Count Dracula's -- and was covered from the neck to past her feet under a black cloth. Shaft followed the other's eyes and, seeing, a ghost of a smile crossed his withered face.

"She is indeed perfect, is she not? A virgin and beautiful despite her years. I am grateful, that you brought her to me, sparing me the task of selecting from the common wenches of the region, Master Richter." He nodded once, slowly, with seemingly mock deferentiality. "Lord Dracula will doubtless be pleased with this offering, for her beauty, her vigor...and for personal reasons."

"That, when she was twelve years old, she sent your master back to Hell with his tail tucked between his legs?" Richter countered venomously.

A flush of angry color darkened Shaft's face, then it was cooled away by the return of his frigid stare. "Let us not any more waste time with empty insults. I--"

"If you harm Maria or my son, so help me God I will find a way to come back after you kill me to return the favor on you and your kind. That is not an insult or a threat, it's a promise."

"'After I kill you'? No, no Richter, you misread me. I intend no such thing."

Richter's eyes narrowed, suspicious and wary. "What of Maria and my son, then?"

"That will depend upon you," he replied cryptically. Shaft clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward. "You have caused me considerable trouble in the past, and so I do indeed have every right to kill you, but I have possessed your mind and I have seen your true self, your true potential.

"You see, Richter, I believe I understand as well as you that your lineage traces back to Sonia Belmont and Alucard Tsepes. You and all Belmonts have had the privilege of inheriting my Master's blood, and with it, a measure of his power.When I possessed you, you yielded to its true guidance." Seeing the intense look on Richter's face, he continued, "Surely you have not labored under the deception that your powers are gifts from your God, have you? Sonia didn't. Ah, but I'm certain you haven't, though you would try to forget. I know you better than you're willing to know yourself."

Richter strove against the invisible binds that held him fast to the chair, which refused to yield despite the fury behind the effort. What made it worse was the Shaft was right about at least one thing: the Belmont clan inherited the blood of Dracula by way of Alucard, though he was sure that could not be the source of their strength. For if it was, would not have Dracula been able to conquer his distant, weaker relations? "You do not know what you speak, demon," he answered, trying to buy time in hopes a plan of action would come to mind.

"Oh, but I do. I was there from the beginning." A mirthless smile creased his lips, while his eyes were gray and distant, far removed from this place. "I was a Catholic priest many centuries ago, an exorcist by training. The misguided might have viewed it as an irony that, upon Lord Dracula Vlad Tsepes conversion to that faith, I had been the one commissioned to be his personal priest, his confidante and friend, to see him through the trials of his conversion. He proved to be a poor convert, I'm glad to say now, yet in spite of it, he accepted my friendship and counsel in secular matters... In the end, when his earthly life was taken on a battlefield, the spirit of Death came upun him and spoke to me, saying that if I would sacrifice my soul, I would exist forever. So I fell on my sword beside him. It is a decision I have not regretted.

"Of course, that you must know, by way of your Codex Diabolum, but for you to accept the greater destiny I have planned for you of your own accord, you must know the beginning before the beginning. I fathered Sonia Belmont -- albeit illegitimately -- when I was a priest in Lord Dracula's service. I was the one who led her to Alucard. I am the primogenitor of the Belmont clan."

"Liar! Your are of Satan the Devil, the father of lies!" Richter exploded. "Whatever trickery you are plying, it will not work on me now."

Shaft seemed to ignore him, saying softly, intensely, "That I do regret. It is a shame I have striven to overcome, yet that one mistake has returned to deter me and those I serve, generation upon generation. Now that will change. The wrong will be righted. Here and now, that will change, Richter..."

"No more of your lies! What do you want from me?" Richter snarled, feeling the binds loosen as the dark priest's concentration waned slightly.

"What any priest wants, Richter! Confession, conversion, contrition! To see and accept what you must do! To yield up your soul and become like me. To join your ancestor in claiming the world for Chaos, to remake the world as we see fit. I would have you take my place as the master of Castlevania. You had done so once, and you could do it again." Sweat beaded on his pale forehead, as he was caught up in what he was saying. "You are the only Belmont who has ever proven to be worthy of this destiny. If you'd just drop the false legacy that blinds you and know what we are. We are the trinity that shall bring paradise to the Earth, for Death shall replace God and the power of Chaos the Holy Spirit, and Lord Dracula shall be the second coming, the savior of a failed human race. They are who I serve and, "he added ominously, "who you must serve if you desire continued life on this world for Maria and Gregor."

"You are not only blasphemous, you are a madman! There is nothing you can offer me that would cause me to betray the world for you. Nothing!" he snapped, the echo resounding in Count Dracula's chamber.

"Not even the lives of those you cherish?" Shaft asked imperiously.

"The cost is too great...no. If I refused to give into you, they'd die; and if I surrendered to you, you'd have your victory and they'd suffer anyway, " he replied bitterly. "Somehow I will make you pay dearly for this."

Shaft slowly arose, wearing the countenance of one who was saddened. "So...you refuse to join us?"

The Vampir hunter answered with a withering glare.

"Then I shall have to proceed without you." Shaft vanished, fading into the twilight of the room. With him, the power of the invisible binds that held him to the chair slackened and then vanished as well. Richter leapt from the chair and savagely kicked it, furious, strength from fury pouring into him, though the one he wanted to pour the fury into was no longer there. His cold icy-blue eyes settled on Dracula's casket. He grabbed the Vampir Killer whip and stalked up the stairs of the dais towards the casket.

You weren't going to kill me? You'll have to kill me to stop me, he muttered to himself. If there was no time to do anything for his son, there was for him to save Maria and visit death, God willing, on his beloved master. He hoped Shaft could see what he was doing and only suffer as he saw Dracula being destroyed at his hand.

As he crested the top step, Shaft materialized in front of him, with his hand stretched forth in a warding gesture. A cowled, hunched figure in black was beside him. "Stop! Your foul humanity will not violate this sanctified place," he commanded.

"Do you want be the first to be sent back to Hell?" he said darkly. The chains of his whip rattled from the fury in his hands.

"Brave words, mortal. You will long regret them and your stubbornness this day. I may not have you to join the family of Chaos, but I do have Gregor. Show yourself to your father, boy," he ordered the figure standing beside him.

Tense, no one moved.

"Show yourself!" Shaft hissed, ripping the cowl from the figure's head. The figure immediately cowered and tried to hide his head in his arms, failing.

Richter knew, anyway. It was Gregor.

He softened his voice, though his arm was still ready to strike. "Son, it's me, your father. I will be taking you and Maria home," he said, shooting a warning glance at Shaft.

"I can't, father," he murmured from the cradle and shield of his arms. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I-I tried to fight them..."

Richter was so relieved to see him that he almost forgot Shaft, the cause of all their trouble, was standing over them. He gently urged his son's arms down, and then lifted his chin up. "Look at me, Gregor. It will be all right."

Gregor's eyes suddenly popped open, bulbous, rheumy and sheathed in red. His young, pale face was contorted with rage and resignation, and when he opened his mouth to speak, two small fangs jutted from his behind his lips. "No, it won't. It's too late."

Richter closed his eyes, trying to will himself to disbelieve what he was seeing. He could not, because his overwhelming hatred of Shaft at that moment was screaming to him that was why he loathed the dark priest with a fury he could no longer control. "Damn you to hell!" he roared, quickly turning and charging at Shaft.

Shaft calmly gestured a pushing motion and Richter was stopped just short of striking distance, then hurled back through the air, over the steps, and into the table. "You had your chance to be a family with Gregor and even Maria, Richter," Shaft called down to him. "Now you cannot. He has been brought across alone. Gregor shall become the son to Lord Dracula Alucard refused to be, and my Lord shall be well-pleased. It is only fitting that the Tsepes blood lineage be returned to him."

Richter, broken and beyond hope, lying against the table, felt a cold seed inside him that reminded him of power. He nurtured it, feeling it grow inside and chill his body as it spread, letting himself be consumed by it, for any power, wherever it came from, was what he needed.

"Do you desire, Maria, Gregor?" Richter heard the echoing, whispered, seductive talk from Shaft.

"Y-yes. I am hungry."

"Than take her where she lies and let her blood spill freely," Shaft urged.

The cold roots of the seed spread and burrowed into his limbs, and Richter felt himself being lifted up to his feet by it, no longer in control of himself. His arms extended and his fingers uncurled from their fists like a poisonous flower in bloom. Cold steam curled from his mouth. He closed his eyes and shuddered, waiting. Waiting. Then the built-up surge of cold, dead power flowed out from him, borne on the chariot of his hopeless rage.

He opened his eyes in time, blinking, tears streaming down his face, to witness what he had brought about: The room was lit by a number of luminescent vaporous beings, darting this way and that like fish in a pond, but a cluster had congregated at the top of the stairs, casting a flickering, intense white light upon the ceiling of the alcove. I did this? he numbly asked himself. Usually, a holy weapon and more was needed for any such demonstration of power. He hoped they were angels coming to his aid, but he couldn't be at all sure of that or anything else anymore. Where was Gregor? A shriek rent the air, and then the spirits faded away, their task apparently accomplished. The last echo of the scream had just faded when a groaning shudder began within Castlevania. Dust sifted down upon his head. Braziers and candles toppled over.

So, the master of Castlevania had been returned to Hell, and now the castle itself would not be far behind.

But where was Gregor?

He staggered to his feet and, aching and wearied unto death, stumbled up the steps, and saw and remembered at the same time that Maria was still upon the casket of Count Dracula. A quick appraisal told him she remained in deep, peaceful sleep. Not killed, not sacrificed. For a moment he envied her. Blocks of masonry and lengths of timber collapsed and vanished in mid-air. Hell was consuming Castlevania a piece a time, and soon would have all of it as had been the case so many times before. They, Maria and himself, were not of Castlevania, so he knew they would not be touched in its strange destruction. Still, he dropped to his knees and prayed. "Let this be the end."

Richter slumped to the floor before the casket of Count Dracula, then passed into the comfort of darkness.