[ The thing that approaches Alucard, stalking closer and closer, is not Dracula. It is not any part of Dracula that he has ever known. Not the loving father and not the vengeful widower. It's a thing of bones and rotting flesh and ash, the centuries-old corpse of Mathias Cronqvist animated by the grudges of all he hurt.

It moves closer, slowly, shuddering, dissolving into ash around the stake as it reaches out for Alucard.

Something peices through it, stopping a hair's bredth from Alucard before it pulls back. The wraith is lit from within for a moment. And then it burns away from the inside. Burns into ash and a single wedding ring. ]

God- oh god- please tell me I didn't hit you with that. No, you're still there. Good. That's good. I-

[ Juliet's tone drops, and her slightly pannicked babbling fades into quietness. She drags herself into the room, bloody and bruised and one arm hanging broken and useless at her side but still mostly whole. She drops the morning star, moving over to Alucard. Taking his hand with her one good one. ]

-I'm so sorry.

[ She squeezes, then lets the energy leave her. Falls to her knees in exhaustion in the ruined bedroom, extending her arm to Alucard to offer comfort. ]

This was- best for him. If he was the man she loved, if he was more than my family thought he was, he wouldn't have wanted to become this. You did him a kindness.