Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Innocent Souls	By : UmbraElf Category: +S to Z > Vampire Hunter D Views: 2504 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Hunter D, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer: Vampire
Hunter D is the property of its creator, Hideuki Kikuchi. I
do not own D or any of the characters related to the novel series.

Innocent Souls

Chapter Three:
Black Voices On the Wind

By: Elf

Blackmoure was ancient. He
remembered a time before the great wars.
He remembered a time before the first World War. He remembered when humanity was plunged in
darkness and superstition. He remembered
when magic use to leave its mark upon the world.

Truth to be told, Blackmoure missed those days. The days long before gunpowder, before the
rifle, before chemicals obliterated the use of plants to heal. The days long before the vampires rose up
from the ashes of human society and used man�s forgotten super-science to
reshape the world in their image. To
breed back the things that had hid themselves from man and the vampires, except
this time the vampires made the fairies and pixies like what they read about in
stories, not how they truly were. Before
the vampire clinched freaks to their breasts to use for their own needs.

What the current Nobles called
their Sacred Ancestor, Blackmoure knew personally as
a friend and confidant. He even served
beside their king in battle. He even
tried to stop his dethroning, but was pushed back and kept safe so he could
make an example.

Dracula had infinite foresight in
that aspect.

Just Blackmoure
grew tired of playing at being a saint of darkness. It wore on his soul. Unlike Carmilla and
some of the others, Blackmoure couldn�t throw himself
into darkness and blood. However, unlike
his highness, Blackmoure couldn�t rule.

So he protected his village the
best that he could, despite what that little troll of a mayor said.

His village was one of few on the
Frontier that did not boast an asylum for vampire victims. In fact, most vampires were terrified to
tread there. Even mutant and lycanthrope
garbage refused to enter his village.

Yet, Blackmoure
hated technology.

He stared at the surveillance and
defense systems around him with distaste.
He sneered at the computer screen that offered no reflection of himself. He resisted
the urge to pound at the infuriating contraption and rip
it to shreds with his hands.

�Lord Blackmoure,
what�s a matter?� a tiny, thin voice piped up from behind him.

Blackmoure spun around to see the last awake child of his
village. Seth Evans was tiny, frail, and
had hollow cheeks and large greenish eyes that were too big for his gaunt
face. His mousy brown hair stuck up in
all directions from his head. His bones
could easily be seen under his almost translucent skin. His ribs hitched with each breath before the
boy turned his head and coughed.

Seth was a sickly little boy. Blackmoure had done
everything in his power to make sure that the boy had lived his first seven
years of life. It had been a long
struggle, and while the super technology and science had only let Seth live a
half life, a nurse who knew of the Old Ways was starting to make Seth thrive. Which was a blessing, for Seth was rumored to
be quite brilliant and able to put anything together or make it work.

Blackmoure bent down and asked, �Can you make this infernal
contraption work, Seth?�

A wide, toothy grin spread across
Seth�s gaunt features as his head bobbed up and down eagerly. The boy took off
to the massive control panel and studied it.
Blackmoure stood up and backed away from the
child. Within moments of observation,
the little boy was almost dancing around the apparatus as it hummed to life.

�Cedric knows how to make it work,
Mr. Blackmoure, I showed him how,� Seth told him with
a puzzled frown, �Why didn�t you bring Cedric, Mr. Blackmoure?�

While Seth knew about how things
worked, including science and technology that most humans couldn�t comprehend
now, he knew little of the world�s workings outside of his sterile
environment. Blackmoure
doubted if the boy knew what was happening to the children around him. It wasn�t as if the other children played
with Seth, in fact, he was even more of an anemia than his own son. Blackmoure made
sure that Seth had at least Cedric of his own age to talk to.

Now Blackmoure
had to tell his son�s other best friend that Cedric was . . . Do not think
that Malcolm. Moira would have my head
if I thought our son was going to die.
No, Cedric will live, even if I have to die for him to do so. That bastard will be stopped, no matter what. Even if I have to walk up to Satan and
bargain to do so.

�Cedric has been hurt by a
terrible monster,� Blackmoure explained with a sigh,
�As were the other children of the village.�

Seth�s green eyes brightened as he
proclaimed, �No way! Moira could�ve
stopped it! Moira can whip
anything!� In his excitement, the small
child began to cough and hack furiously.
His whole body shook as he struggled for air. Blackmoure lifted
the child up and placed him in a chair.

Lights began to flicker on all
around them in the stronghold, bright enough to make Blackmoure
shield his eyes. Electrical humming filled
his ears and rippled all around them.
Defense mechanisms roared to life with the sharp shrill of a siren�s
cry. The stronghold shelter had armed
itself. Blackmoure
figured if it could protect a sleeping vampire during the day, then it could
protect an awake vampire and a sick child.

Seth began to rasp and
wheeze. His little hands fluttered
helplessly as he looked at Blackmoure with fear
filled eyes. Blackmoure
stared intently in the boy�s eyes and searched his mind. He focused and concentrated. Seth stilled.
His breathing became easy as Blackmoure�s
trance took effect.

�I�m sorry, son,� Blackmoure sighed as he smoothed Seth�s wild hair down.

He sat in the room�s other chair
and sighed. He watched each screen
idly. All around him was the country
side. Nothing unusual to account for
except for the humming from the climate generators at the far edges of town as
they shut themselves down for the night.

A loud popping sound filled the
room. Everything went still before the
air seemed to ripple. The control panel
shot sparks and wheezed. The machinery
lurched into death throws before everything went dark and quiet save for the
tiny rattle in Seth�s breathing.

Blackmoure rose to his feet as unnatural darkness seeped into the
room. He lifted up Seth. The boy�s eyes opened as Blackmoure
broke the trance. He clutched onto the
vampire�s cape and Blackmoure started to slowly move
towards the door.

Blackmoure felt a solid presence behind him. He felt hands rest on his shoulders. Ozone and juniper filled his nostrils, and
power crackled behind the inky darkness around him.

�Well, my lord, it�s the end of
the line,� a velvet voice purred into his ear as moonlight hands reached for
Seth.

Seth froze with terror. His heart was like a caged bird fluttering to
escape, pounding rapidly in his chest as his breath hitched. He opened his mouth and screamed.

Blackmoure spun around and kicked out at the figure behind him. The wraith laughed and stood up right. Blackmoure�s eyes
widened at the terrible beauty of the thing in front of him. The tri-ringed violet eyes twinkled with
amusement.

�Bastard!� Blackmoure roared as he swiped
at the wraith with a clawed hand. The
wraith laughed and danced back from Blackmoure�s
razor talons. Blackmoure
bared his fangs and snarled as he attacked again.

The wraith smiled a beautiful
chilling smile and waggled his finger disapprovingly at Blackmoure. �Now, now, Malcolm, be good.�

�Go to hell, you bastard!� Blackmoure hissed as he put Seth down so he could better
rip the wraith�s head off. I�m going
to rip out that heart from that pale chest.
I�m going to eat it in front of him while he still has life in his body.
I want him to see it.

Blackmoure took to the air to fly at the wraith again, but out of the
inky darkness rose spiraling tendrils. They whipped towards Blackmoure
in a frighteningly fast array. He dodged
and wove, but there were too many of them.
They wrapped around his waist, his wrists, his elbows, his knees,
ankles, shoulders, and the bend of his throat.
He snarled out as they slammed him back into the control panel.

Sparks shot everywhere when Blackmoure
crashed into it. His skin burned and
bits of metal sliced and stabbed through him. He roared in pain as he was jerked up and
helplessly pinned against the broken machinery.

�Ah, yes, that works just nicely,�
the wraith chuckled as he turned towards Seth.

The boy�s eyes were wide in
terror. His heart was beating so fast
that Blackmoure couldn�t count the heartbeats. He shouted, �Go, Seth, run!�

Instead, the boy fell
forward.

Blackmoure screamed as he heard Seth�s heart burst. The wraith walked over and looked at the
boy. He nudged Seth�s still body and his
lip curled with distaste.

�Fragile whelp, maybe it�s a good
thing that his heart burst, don�t you agree?� the wraith asked in his velvety
voice as he turned those striking eyes towards Blackmoure.

Blackmoure sneered, �Damn you.�

�Ah, that�s not very polite,� the
wraith scolded mischievously, still shaking that glowing white finger at the
vampire.

The shadow tendrils tightened
around Blackmoure.
They bit into his skin and were so cold that they burned. He winched at the pain, but he knew the
wounds would heal. He waited for his
regeneration to kick in.

It didn�t.

The tendrils tightened more and
more. Blood spilled forth from each
place he was bound. It splattered hotly
on the ground and formed a crimson pool around Blackmoure�s
dangling feet.

Blackmoure screamed.

The wraith moved forward, a smile
on his seraphic face. His long, black
hair seemed to dance and fade in the magical darkness around him. Blackmoure looked
at the wraith with glowing crimson eyes as he struggled with all of his might.

�You bastard,� Blackmoure
managed, �Who are you?�

The wraith clapped his hands
together, looking much like an eager child.
He rocked back and forth on his heels and giggled. �Well, since you�re going to die, I�ll tell
you,� he sang in that velvet voice.

Blackmoure glared and writhed in pain. His garnet eyes focused on the wraith as he
continued to smile impishly at the vampire.
The tentacle at his throat stopped cutting him while the ones around his
arms, legs, and waist continued their assault.

The wraith smiled and said, �I am Ciaran, but not that it matters to you now.�

He flicked his hand at Blackmoure and the tentacle sawed and twisted through his
throat. The vampire gagged and gasped. Bone made a sickening scratching sound as
living shadow cut through it.

Blackmoure�s unseeing eyes looked up at Ciaran
from their place on the floor.

Ciaran watched impassively as Blackmoure�s
body started to dissolve into dust, mingling into the vampire�s blood on the
floor. His nose crinkled at the dead
child sprawled out beside the vampire�s remains. He nudged the boy�s corpse with his boot and
his lip curled.

Suddenly, his shadow weaving
started to disintegrate all around him.
A brilliant blue light filled his vision and he blocked his eyes from
it. He felt his magic, his very being, begin to tremble at the sudden power.

It was draining him, leaching the
darkness he created away. Something was
feeding on his magic and he heard a throaty chuckle from a tinny voice. Ciaran drew shadows
around himself to protect himself, becoming the fearful wraith once again. He held out his pale hands to increase the
effect.

Except Vampire
Hunter D was not impressed by such theatrics.

The dhampire
had his long sword out and slashed at the shadows. Ciaran glared as he
blocked them with his power. He nimbly
wove himself into the darkness, becoming part of it, always moving and never
still. He moved through the shadows,
everything a dark violet blur.

�You killed Blackmoure and the boy!� that soft, unyielding voice
accused.

Ciaran laughed and retorted, �The boy died of fright, Toll_toine. Blackmoure�s arrogance did him in. What about you, Toll-toine?�

D�s reply was curt and surprising.
�Thalla gu Taigh na Galla.�

�Oh, will you send me there?� Ciaran laughed.

D darted forward with the
sword. Ciaran
slid away into the shadows and brought himself back right behind D. He drew his shadows and gave them form and
shape. They lashed out at the vampire
hunter like whips.

D spun around, dodged a few of the
lashes, and blocked the rest with his sword.
He jumped back away from Ciaran and the faerie
laughed. He flung his hands down to his
sides, closed his eyes and summoned the very Darkness around him.

Ciaran smirked as the brilliant blue glow of that infernal amulet
began to dim. In the presence of this
much Darkness and faerie magic, such a dampening trinket was useless. D was now cast in the dark blues, violets,
and greys that Ciaran saw
in when wielding the Darkness. The
dhampire looked around, his long lashed eyes
narrowing, as he pivoted gracefully on his foot while he searched for the
faerie.

He drew the Darkness up and
launched it out all at once.

D struggled,
truly remarkable, but in the end fruitless. His sword separated
one length of the dark ribbons only to be overtaken by three more. Ciaran wrapped the
strands around the sword and jerked it out of the hunter�s hands. He then intertwined the hunter in thousands
of tendrils and lifted him off the ground.

Ciaran met the hunter face to face. He studied each delicate line, the upswept
ears, the wide, sensual mouth and the tiny fangs bared
at him. He reached out and stroked a
lock of wavy black hair behind D�s ear.

�Indeed, you are quite comely, I
must say,� Ciaran mused thoughtfully, �A beauty even
among my kind.�

D glared silently at him. Ciaran shrugged as
he honed the shadowy ribbons into razor sharp blades to render the lovely
hunter apart just as he had Blackmoure. There was a cracking sound as the ribbons
began to cut into D�s onyx like armor. Ciaran watched with a tiny smile.

�Your fondness for those who mock
and punish you has led you to your downfall,� Ciaran
taunted with a tiny smile, bending forward so his glowing eyes met D�s. He made sure to cut the tendrils in deeper. The cracking grew louder and D grimaced,
showing a bit of a fang.

Ciaran turned with a flounce of his cloak. �Go ahead and show me those fangs of yours,
hunter. Give in before you die. It would be vastly amusing,� he chuckled.

�Amuse this, dipshit,�
the tinny, nasal voice he had heard from before taunted.

Ciaran felt the shadows and Darkness being ripped apart. He felt them being ingested and processed for
more power. He spun around to see the
shadowy bondage snap around D and the hunter landing nimbly on his feet.

Ciaran glared and spat, �How the hell did you manage to do that?�

D leapt for his sword. Ciaran snapped it
to his hands using the remaining tendrils.
He lifted the beautiful weapon up and inspected it. �You�ve killed a great many with this. I
think I�ll keep it as a souvenir. Such
as the blood stained sheets on the bed that I�ll take Bronach
on as well,� he scoffed with a smirk.

D snarled at him. His blue eyes shifted into a bright, glowing
crimson that eclipsed the pupils and whites as well. Ciaran laughed as
he folded himself into the shadows, bringing D�s infamous blade with him.

�Tell Bronach
that I�ll be seeing her soon,� he called out, his voice echoing as he left the
vampire hunter alone in the room with the ashes of Blackmoure
and a child�s corpse.

His laughter continued to mock D
long after he was gone.

******

Bronach was looking at the sleeping child. Cedric. His chestnut curls felt like raw silk under
her fingertips. She stroked the little
boy�s head as he lay still as a corpse.
She looked at him with a pained expression, noting the tiny fangs protruding
from his cupid�s bow mouth. Her thumb traced under his lower lip thoughtfully
before she settled back down in her chair beside him.

Her leg was a dull throb now. She could stiffly walk on it now, so she
ended up with the children again. She�d
walked in and seen their bodies anew.

She was going to rip that Unseelie Faerie apart with her own two hands.

�Aren�t they pathetic?�

Bronach stood up and spun around.
Leaning against the open French window was none other than the culprit
himself. He was idly inspecting his
hands before he looked at her with his sickly three-ringed violet eyes. A slow, easy grin spread across his pristine,
glowing features.

He gestured to the children with
his glowing hand. �So
fragile. Delicate. Mortal. Fodder actually,� he mused thoughtfully.

Bronach tensed as she looked at the little ones. They were prone and helpless. Their families had no defense against the
monster who had stolen their most precious gift.

It was hard for Fey to breed. Ladies� cycles were once every decade and the
chance that a Lord�s seed would take was slim.
Despite that, Faeries loved physical pleasure. They reveled in it and sought it at any cost.
And if a tryst brought upon a child, even an illegitimate
one, then even better.

Another mark against her in both
courts was that she�d never taken anyone to bed. In actuality there had been no one she had
wanted to form a tryst with. She wasn�t
going to be part of some political game or just someone to fulfil
an addiction.

So she made sure she never
developed that particular addiction herself.

Still, that didn�t mean she didn�t
think children weren�t precious or that she didn�t want one herself. In fact she did, but that was for a much
later date. And to see another Faerie do
this made her ill and lit rage within her.

She opened her mouth and drew a
breath. She braced herself as she
prepared to let loose the full destructive quality of her voice. Then the bastard slid his hand into the voluptuous
folds of his cloak and pulled out something long and shimmering.

Her eyes widened. Her breath came out in a shuddering
gasp. Her heart twisted and she began to
tremble. D. Lord and Lady no . . . No, she thought as
her eyes welled up with hot tears.

�Like my trophy?� he asked
thoughtfully as he inspected the blade.

Bronach drew herself up and braced herself. She opened her mouth to scream. The Dark Faerie pointed to the helpless
children around her.

Closing her eyes, Bronach fell still.

�That�s right. Scream enough and you�ll kill them all at the
worst, or render them deaf at best,� he chuckled as he walked over to her.

She tensed as she felt his cool
hands on her shoulders and his warm breath against her ears. There was a delicate flicker of wet warmth
against the top of her ear. She trembled. The hands moved from her shoulders to hover
over her breasts to rest around her waist.

He pulled her closer and her eyes
flew open. She felt him pressed hard and
ready against her back. She spun around
and launched her leg up in a roundhouse kick.

The blow landed and the Faerie
staggered. She landed and thrust out her
hand with her fingers curved towards her upthrust
palm. The second blow never landed.

She gasped as her feet were yanked
apart and her arms outstretched above her head.
She looked at the shadows holding her in place and turned to face the
Faerie. She glared as he smiled at her.

�You sodding
wanker,� she spat.

He lifted D�s sword in position
and traced it�s insanely sharp edge against the curve of her bosom. She drew in a breath and arched back away
from the blade. She snapped, �If you�re gonna kill me, go ahead and do it and stop tossing around!�

He smiled at her. It was the sort of smile that shed
rainbows. Insanely
beautiful and charming. The sort
of smile Lucifer had, she reasoned darkly.

�Why would I want to kill you, Morrigan�s Grace?
There are better things to do with your sweet body than harm it. You know how rare of a creature you
are among our kind?� He purred as he leaned towards her face. She tightened her hands into fists as the
sword easily sliced through her blouse.
Her nails began to bite into her palms as she seethed at him.

She snapped, �Bloody hell is this
about . . . Go toss off in the loo then, you giant pillock! There would
be thousands that would be more than willing to shag you senseless. Why the hell do you want me?�

�Because you�re
unattainable. Because no one else has had you, that�s
all. You�re passing fair, but as far as
Faeries go, you�re rather homely,� the Faerie answered as he turned her face
towards him. She snapped her head and
twisted it to the side.

He smirked as he leaned towards
her. His lips danced around her
ear. She bit her lip at the gentle
caress. He was going straight for the weak
point. Her ears. She shivered and he smiled.

She looked at the children. Then she looked back at her tormentor. She moved her face towards his and he smiled
against her cheek. �I knew you wouldn�t
stay unresponsive for long,� he whispered in her ear.

Her lips brushed past his
ear. She pressed a kiss into it. He shuddered from head to toe and held onto
her tightly. She tensed in loathing and
drew a breath.

Then she screamed right into his
ear.

He screamed and crumbled to the
ground. He held his head as he wailed in
pain. The shadows dissipated and dropped
Bronach to the ground. She landed in a crouch and took the
opportunity to kick the Faerie viciously in the face.

Then she noticed D�s sword lying
prone on the ground.

Rage welled up within her as she picked
up the sword and turned back to the Faerie.
She wrenched him up by his hair and kneed him in the throat. �You sodding
bastard!� she cried, tears welling in her eyes again.

She back handed him and he fell
backwards. He looked up at her and she
smiled in grim satisfaction. Blood
gleamed like rubies as it trickled from his ears, eyes, nose, and in a tiny
stream down his mouth. He coughed and
she spun the sword back.

She began to sweep it down for the
final blow.

A massive amount of shadow
tendrils shout out at her. She tried to
dodge. She even cut some with the blade,
but there were too many. She even opened
her mouth for another scream, but one wrapped around her mouth, silencing
her. They held her pinned helpless and
spread eagled in the air.

The sword fell to the ground
again.

The Faerie wiped blood from his
face. He glared at her with gleaming
eyes as he took another step towards her.
Bronach wiggled, but that only drew the sprigs
tighter around her wrists and ankles.
She attempted to scream even though the shadow would stop her
destructive cry.

�I should leave you like
this. What do you think will happen once
the lesser creatures find out there is a veritable feast of defenseless
children waiting for them? The gluttons
would feed, and to find someone such as yourself helpless like this . . .� he
drew off, a manic smile gracing his seraphic features.

Bronach glared at him and fought and twisted some more. He touched a lock of her blonde hair thoughtfully. �One lust sated, but the bloodlust leads to
something worse. Unfortunately for you,
death won�t come as swiftly as it will for the children.�

Bronach sent her thoughts to the Faerie, launching them like an
arrow into his mind, Blackmoure won�t allow
it. He won�t let anything befall his
son. So, I hope you enjoy the hell that
you choose, you son of a bitch.

Bronach, listen to the wind, he
replied, a haunting, static filled voice in her mind. He smiled at her and leaned forward. He sniffed the column of her throat before
licking up her cheek to flick his tongue at her ear. She shivered and tensed again, her wrists
twisting uselessly in their velvety bonds.

He pressed his mouth to her ear as
his hand trailed up and down the curve of her shirt. She scowled as her nipple hardened against
the palm of his hand. He idly began to
rub the extended nub between his fingertips.
Her heart beat quickened and she was breathing hard. Sweat was trickling down her face and back.

She heard something faint in the
distance. Whispers on
the air. It was enticing, like a
banshee�s song when she wasn�t being destructive. It was promising a feast. That the protector and lord of the manner was dead. She heard
it sing of static children that were helpless and unprotected. She discovered it was traveling along the
darkness, and that it was specifically looking for creatures that would do such
a thing.

Her eyes widened.

The Faerie laughed as he released
her breast. He gave her one last kiss on
the cheek. She jerked away with a
muffled cry and glared at him.

�Enjoy yourself, Bronach. You might
even survive the rebirth of the Hunt,� he said as he faded into shadows.

Bronach writhed in the static bonds. A howl rang in the distance. She twisted her head to look at the
children.

She began to fight even harder.

******

D was almost standing on his
horse. The cyborg�s
hooves barely touched the ground as it ran.
Its long mane brushed past D�s face, and he had to bow his head to avoid
getting horse hair in his eyes. His grip
tightened on the reins and the horse propelled itself forward.

The weak lord is dead. Helpless lambs await you. Sate your hunger and your thirst. There will be no one to stop you . . .

Left Hand stirred and said,
�They�ll hear the whispers. That bastard
is telling anything that there�s an all you can eat kids buffet at Blackmoure�s. Since
they think Blackmoure�s now dead, they�re gonna take him up on that offer.�

�I know that,� D replied tensely
as he spurred his heels into the mechanical horse�s sides. The horse flew down the worn path. D kept looking left to right to behind and in
front of him again. The whispers grew
louder, more tempting, and promising more and more.

Bronach was at the castle, as well as the nurse. Hopefully the nurse would have sense enough
to get the children out of the castle. D
knew that Bronach would stay behind and face whatever
came to feed.

A howl cut through the seductive
whisper. It echoed through the mountains
and the horse reared. D kept seated as
the horse whined and danced backwards on its hind legs. Its glowing eyes were rolling back and forth
in their sockets as the mechanical animal�s natural instincts took over.

D tightened the reigns and settled
the horse back on all floors. The horse�s
nostrils flared as it darted uneasily back and forth. He reached down and patted the horse�s flanks
reassuringly, yet the creature still panicked.

A longer howl sounded, and it was
followed by a whole chorus of howls. D�s
ears twitched at the sound as he looked around.
It wasn�t a full moon, but D knew better than to trust that particular
myth about lycanthropes.

He clicked his heels together and
tugged at the reigns. The horse whinnied
again before taking off like a bolt. It
soared down the road at a frantic pace, thinking with the instincts that man
couldn�t replace with its technology. D
simply leaned forward, making himself more aerodynamic
so the horse could run faster.

The horse was fast, but D had a
feeling it wouldn�t be fast enough.

He looked up to see Blackmoure�s castle looming towards him. He urged the horse faster. He just hoped that the horse didn�t hear the
gentle panting of running wolves behind it.
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Innocent Souls