He'd planned for everything. They'd spent the last week in the nearest town, watching at night for the servants of Jules De Rais and picking them off, keeping them from dragging people off for feeding. No doubt he'd still have animal blood, but he wasn't like Alucard, he'd suffer in combat for the lack of human blood. They would attack at dawn, on the clearest day that the late spring would afford them.
They entered the estate through the window of the uppermost floor, with the help of Sypha's ice. Not for the sake of secrecy- that was long lost to them, but so that there was only the roof between them and sunlight. A roof easily punctured by the morning star, or by Sypha's ice. It had worked. It had worked. They had the upper floors of the place near as taken, with no injuries to show for it. They had the ability to leave the way they came and go unfollowed if they needed to.
But then the sun had gone out.
Which had been a problem for every conceivable reason, not least that two thirds of them couldn't see in the dark. Sypha had immediately provided light, of course, but in doing so she'd made herself stick out as the easiest target. Something emerged from the shadows and tossed her from the balcony above the stairs, and Alucard gave chase to catch her-
And just like that, they were separated. Alucard and Sypha still on the lower levels, and he on the upper level and effectively blind. Something struck him in the ribs - a fist, perhaps, with force enough to send him flying back into one of the rooms they'd yet to go through. Whatever it was that struck him follows, and the door slams behind.
His head is spinning from the impact still as he pushes himself to his feet, desperately trying to figure out what the fuck just happened and adjust his plans accordingly. The darkness- that had been a spell that used Walter's blood as a component. But it's too early, a full two days before the day that Sypha had given as their deadline. Walter can't be revived, not yet.
It strikes him again, knocking him back further, and he pushes himself to his knees. And then it occurs to him - his spirit doesn't need to be present for his flesh and blood to be back. Whoever is behind this revival doesn't want Walter himself to return. They want a collection of useful parts-
-But he can't finish that thought. He can't finish it because, as he hears Alucard and Sypha recover and give chase, something lifts him by the hair, clean off the ground. There are a pair of teeth at his neck. They bite down, and he doesn't quite yell out because whatever part of him would be carrying the sound is torn through, and he can't even feel the pain so much as he can feel the upper and lower jaw meeting below his skin.
no subject
He'd planned for everything. They'd spent the last week in the nearest town, watching at night for the servants of Jules De Rais and picking them off, keeping them from dragging people off for feeding. No doubt he'd still have animal blood, but he wasn't like Alucard, he'd suffer in combat for the lack of human blood. They would attack at dawn, on the clearest day that the late spring would afford them.
They entered the estate through the window of the uppermost floor, with the help of Sypha's ice. Not for the sake of secrecy- that was long lost to them, but so that there was only the roof between them and sunlight. A roof easily punctured by the morning star, or by Sypha's ice. It had worked. It had worked. They had the upper floors of the place near as taken, with no injuries to show for it. They had the ability to leave the way they came and go unfollowed if they needed to.
But then the sun had gone out.
Which had been a problem for every conceivable reason, not least that two thirds of them couldn't see in the dark. Sypha had immediately provided light, of course, but in doing so she'd made herself stick out as the easiest target. Something emerged from the shadows and tossed her from the balcony above the stairs, and Alucard gave chase to catch her-
And just like that, they were separated. Alucard and Sypha still on the lower levels, and he on the upper level and effectively blind. Something struck him in the ribs - a fist, perhaps, with force enough to send him flying back into one of the rooms they'd yet to go through. Whatever it was that struck him follows, and the door slams behind.
His head is spinning from the impact still as he pushes himself to his feet, desperately trying to figure out what the fuck just happened and adjust his plans accordingly. The darkness- that had been a spell that used Walter's blood as a component. But it's too early, a full two days before the day that Sypha had given as their deadline. Walter can't be revived, not yet.
It strikes him again, knocking him back further, and he pushes himself to his knees. And then it occurs to him - his spirit doesn't need to be present for his flesh and blood to be back. Whoever is behind this revival doesn't want Walter himself to return. They want a collection of useful parts-
-But he can't finish that thought. He can't finish it because, as he hears Alucard and Sypha recover and give chase, something lifts him by the hair, clean off the ground. There are a pair of teeth at his neck. They bite down, and he doesn't quite yell out because whatever part of him would be carrying the sound is torn through, and he can't even feel the pain so much as he can feel the upper and lower jaw meeting below his skin.
Shit. He fucked up, didn't he? ]