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Vol.1 Vampire Hunter D 1 страница

Vampire Hunter D

Author - Hideyuki Kikuchi

Illustrations - Yoshitaka Amano

English Translation - Kevin Leahy

Publisher – DH Press

For Terence Fisher, Jimmy Sangster, Bernard Robinson,

Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, and the entire cast

and crew of Horror of Dracula (’58).

For Osamu Kishimoto

Vol.1 Vampire Hunter D

Accursed Bride

Chapter I

T he setting sun was staining the far reaches of the plain, its hue closer to blood than vermilion. The wind snarled like a beast across the barren sky. On the narrow road that cut through a sea of grass, high enough to hide all below the man’s ankles, the lone horse and rider ceased their advance as if forestalled by the wall of wind gusting straight at them.

The road rose a bit some sixty feet ahead. Once they’d surmounted the rise they would be able to survey the rows of houses and greenbelts of farmland that comprised Ransylva, just another hamlet in this Frontier sector.

At the foot of that gentle slope stood girl.

The horse had likely been startled by her appearance and stopped. She was a beautiful woman, with large eyes that seemed alight. Somewhat tanned, she had her black tresses tied back. An untamed aura, unique to all things living in the wild, emanated from every inch of her. Any man who laid eyes on her, with those gorgeous features like sunlight in summer, would undoubtedly draw his attention to the curves of her physique. Yet below the threadbare blue scarf swathing her neck she was concealed to ankles by the ash-gray material of a waterproof cape. Except perhaps for her snug leather sandals and what seemed to be a coiled black whip in her right hand, she wore no necklaces or torques, or any other accouterments that would have lent her a feminine feel.

An old fashioned cyborg horse lingered at the girl's side. Until a few minutes earlier, the girl had been lying at its feet. Woman of the wild or not, the react that she noticed a horse and rider, not running but approaching silently amidst the kind of howling wind that would leave others covering their ears, and that she stood her ground meant the girl probably wasn't some farmer's wife or the daughter of a pioneer.

Having stopped briefly, the horse soon began walking forward. Perhaps realizing the girl wasn't going to get out of the road, it stopped once again about three feet shy of her.
For a while there was nothing but the sound of the wind racing along the ground. In due time the girl opened her mouth to speak. "I take it you're a drifter. You a Hunter?" Her tone was defiant and full of daring, and yet also a touch worn.

The rider sat on his horse but made no answer. She couldn't see his face very well because he had a wide-brimmed traveler's hat low over his eyes and was covered from the nose down by a scarf. Judging from his powerful frame and the combat utility belt, half revealed from his faded black long coat, it was safe to say he was no seasonal laborer or merchant dealing with scattered villages. A blue pendant hanging just below his scarf reflected the girl's pensive expression. Her large eyes fixed on the long sword strapped to his back. Limning an elegant arc quite different from the straight blades cherished by so many other Hunters, it spoke of the vast expanses of time and space its owner had traveled. Disconcerted, perhaps, by the lack of response, the girl shouted, "That sword purely for show? If so, I'll take it off you to sell down at the next open market. Set 'er down!"

As if to say that if that didn't get an answer out of him then he time for talking is done, the girl took one step back with her right leg and crouched in preparation. The hand with the whip slowly rose to her side.

The rider responded for the first time. "What do you want?" The girl's expression was one of amazement. Though the voice of her opponent was low, and she could barely over the snarling of the wind, it sounded like the voice of seventeen- or eighteen-year-old youth.

"What the hell—you're just a kid! Well I'm still not gonna

show you any mercy. Show me what you've got"

«So, you're a bandit then? You're awfully forthcoming for one."

"You dolt! If I was looking for money, you think I'd go after a lousy drifter like you? I wanna see how good you are!" The wind shot with a sharp snap. The girl cracked her whip. It didn't look like she was doing any more than playing it out lightly with her wrist, but the whip twisted time and again like an ominous black serpent in the light of the setting sun. "Here I come! If you fancy some good eatin' in the village of Ransylva, you'll have to go through me first."

The youth remained motionless atop his mount. He didn't reach for his sword or for his combat belt. What's more, when the girl saw how nonchalant he remained when challenged to battle by a good-looking young lady who gave no reasons but showered him with a murderous gaze, a tinge of consternation rushed into her expression. Letting out a rasp of breath, the girl struck with her whip. The weapon was made from intertwined werewolf bristles painstakingly tanned over three long months with applications of animal fat. A direct hit from it would sunder flesh.

"What the?..."

The girl leapt back, her expression changed. Her whip was supposed to strike the youth's left shoulder but for some reason, just at the instant she saw it hit him, the whip changed direction and shot instead for her own left shoulder. The youth had reversed the vectors of the whip without the slightest injury to himself and turned the attack back upon its source. To grasp the speed and angle of that black snake striking so fast it escaped the naked eye, and have the reflexes to do something about it, was something that defied description.

"Damn it! You're good!"

Worked by her right hand, the whip did not strike her shoulder but danced back through thin air, yet the girl stood rooted to the spot and made no attempt at a second attack. She realized his fighting skills were as high above hers as the heavens were over the earth.

"Out of my way, please," the youth said, as if nothing whatsoever had transpired. The girl complied.

The youth and his horse passed by her side, but when they'd gone a few steps more, the girl once again stepped into the road and shouted, "Hey, look at me!"

The instant the youth turned around, the girl grabbed her cape with her left hand and whipped it off in a single motion.

For a moment, the venomous glow of twilight seemed to lose its blood-red hue.

Clad in not a single stitch, a naked form so celestial none save the goddess Venus herself could have fashioned it glittered in the breeze. At the same time, the girl extended her other hand and undid her ponytail. Her luxurious raven mane splayed in the wind. Her nakedness alone had been beautiful, but this was truly enchanting. The wind twisted around, bearing nothing but the scent of a woman in the full of her bloom. "Let's try that again!" Once more her whip cracked.

Through some masterful handling, the single tip whistling toward the youth split into eight parts just as it was about to strike. Each tip had a separate target, coiling around his neck, shoulders, arms, and chest with slightly different timing, making a hit much more difficult to avoid than if all struck simultaneously.

"You sure fell for that one," the girl laughed. "That's what you get for letting a little nudity distract you." She hollered the words, conceding nothing to the snarling wind. And then, almost disappointed, she suddenly added, "You’re the ninth. Looks like I'm out of luck after all. How do you wanna play this? You drop the weapon you've got on your back and the ones around your waist and I'll have you undone in no time."

The reply she received was totally unexpected.

"And if I said I wouldn't?"

The girl became indignant. "Then you get your choice of how I knock you out. Either I strangle you or I drag you to the ground. So, which of those suits your fancy?"

"Neither appeals to me."

With his words as her signal to start, the girl concentrated all her might into her right hand. Her power coursed down the whip to the tips, trying to send the youth sailing through the air. But it didn't! In fact, all eight loops passed right through the youth's body without losing their circular form! "What the—?" |

Not merely surprised but dumbfounded, the girl stood rooted and dazed. After all, here was an opponent who had beaten an attack that incorporated every bit of skill she possessed without so much as lifting a hand...

The youth's mount started to walk away calmly. Though she remained in her absentminded stupor for a bit, girl wrapped her fallen cape around herself and scrambled after the youth with a speed that was hard to believe from such slender legs. "Hold up. I apologize for that craziness just now. I'd like you to hear me out. I just knew you were a Hunter. Better yet, you're a Vampire Hunter, aren't you?"

The youth finally turned his eyes to the girl. "I'm right, aren't I? I wanna hire you!" The horse stopped.

That's nothing to joke about," the youth said softly. "I know. I know Vampire Hunters are the most skilled of all Hunters. And I'm well aware what fearsome opponents vampires are. Even though only one Hunter in a thousand is good enough to make the grade, your chances of fighting a vampire and winning are still only fifty-fifty, right? I know all that. My father was a Hunter, too."

A tinge of emotion stirred in the youth's eyes. With one hand he pushed back the brim of his hat. Long and thin and cold, his dark eyes were quite clear. "What kind?"

"A Werewolf Hunter."

"I see, so that's where you get that trick with the whip," the youth murmured. "I'd heard all the vampires in these parts were wiped out during the Third Cleansing War. Of course, the war was a good thirty years back, so I suppose we can't put much stock in that. So, you want to hire me? I take it someone in your family or one of your friends has been attacked. How many times have they been preyed upon?" "Just the once, so far."

"Are there marks from two fangs, or just one?" The girl hesitated for an instant, then laid her hand to the scarf around her neck. "See for yourself."

The wind-borne cries of wild beasts streamed like banners across the darkening sky.

On the left side of her neck in the vicinity of the main artery, a pair of festering wounds the color of fresh meat swelled from the sun-bronzed flesh.

"It's the Kiss of the Nobility," the girl said in a low voice, feeling all the while the eyes of the youth bearing down on her from horseback.

The youth tugged down the scarf shielding his face. "Judging by that wound, it was a vampire of some rank. It's surprising you can even move." His last remark was a compliment to the girl. The reactions of people who had been preyed on by vampires varied with the level of their attacker but in most cases the victims became doll-like imbeciles, with the very soul sucked out of them. Their skin lost its tone and became like paraffin, and the victim would lie in the shade day after day with a vacant gaze, waiting for a visit from vampire and a fresh kiss. To escape that fate, one needed extraordinary strength of body and spirit. And this girl was clearly one such exception.

However, at the moment the girl wore the dreamlike expression of the average victim.

She had lost herself in the beauty of the unmasked youth, with his thick, masculine eyebrows, smooth bridge of a nose, and tightly drawn lips that manifested the iron strength of his will. Set amid stern features shared only by those who had come through the numerous battles of a grief-ridden world, his eyes harbored sorrow even as they sparkled. That final touch made this crystallized beauty the image of youth incarnate, chiseled, as it were, by nature itself, perfect and complete. Nevertheless, the girl was shaken back to her senses by something vaguely ominous lurking in the depths of his gaze. It sent a chill creeping up her spine. Giving her head a shake, the girl asked, "So, how about it? Will you come with me?"

"You said you were knowledgeable about Vampire Hunters. Are you also aware of the fees they require?"

Scarlet tinged the girl's cheeks. "Uh, yeah..." "Your offer being?"

The more powerful the supernatural beasts and monsters a Hunter specialized in, the more expensive their fees. In the case of Vampire Hunters, they got five thousand dalas a day minimum. Incidentally, a three-meal pack of condensed rations for travelers was about a hundred dalas. "Three meals a day," the girl said, as if she'd just settled on it.

The youth said nothing.

"Plus..."

"Plus what?"

"Me. To do with as you please."

A faint smile played across the youth's lips, as if mocking her. "The Kiss of the Nobility is probably preferable to being bedded by the likes of me."

"The hell it is!" Suddenly tears glittered in the girl's eyes. "If it comes down to that or becoming a vampire, I have no problem «with someone havin' his way with me. That doesn't have anything to do with a person's worth anyway. But if you must know, I'm... no, forget that, it doesn't matter. So, how about it? Will you come with me?"

Watching the girl's face for a while as anger and sorrow churned together, the youth quietly nodded. "Very well then. But in return, I want to be clear on one thing." "What? Just name it." "I'm dhampir."

The girl's face froze. This gorgeous man couldn't be... But come to think of it, he was too gorgeous... "Is that okay? If you wait a while longer, another Hunter may come by. You don't have to do this."

Swallowing the sour spit that filled her mouth, the girl offered a hand to the youth. She attempted a smile, but it came out stiff. "Glad to have you. I'm Doris Lang."

The youth didn't shake her hand. Just as expressionless and emotionless as when he first appeared, he said, "Call me 'D'".

D oris' home was at the base of a hill about thirty minutes at a gallop from where the pair happened to meet. The two of them rode at a feverish pace and arrived there in less than twenty minutes. The second she wrapped up her discussion with D, Doris put the spurs to her horse, as if pushed by the encroaching twilight. Not only vampires, but also all the most dangerous monsters and supernatural beasts waited until complete darkness fell before they became active. There wasn't cause to be in such a hurry, but D remained silent and followed his attractive employer.

Her home was a farm surrounded by verdant prairies that were most likely rendered permanently fertile by the Great Earth Restoration Project three millennia earlier. At the center was the main house. Constructed of wood and tensile plastics, the house was surrounded by scattered stables, animal pens, and protein-synthesizing vegetation in orchards consisting mainly of thermo-regulators fastened to reinforced sheets of waterproof material. The orchards alone covered five acres, and second-hand robots were responsible for harvesting the protein produced there. Hauling it away was a job for the humans.

When Doris had tethered her horse to the long hitching post in front of the main house, the reason for her hasty return threw the door open and bounded out.

"Welcome home," a rosy-cheeked boy of seven or eight called down from the rather lofty porch. He hugged an antiquated laser rifle to his chest.

"This is my little brother Dan," Doris said to D by way of introduction, and then in a gentle voice she asked, "Nothing out of the ordinary while I was gone, was there? Those mist devils didn't come back now, did they?"

"Not at all," the boy replied, throwing out his chest triumphantly. "Don't forget, I blasted four of the buggers just the other day. They're so scared they wouldn't dare come back again. But just supposing they do, I'll fry 'em to a crisp with this baby here." That said, his expression suddenly grew sullen. "Oh, I almost forgot... That jerk Greco came by again. Carrying some bunch of flowers he says he had sent all the way from the Capital He left 'em here and asked me to pass them along to my 'lovely sister when she gets home.'"

"So what happened to the flowers?" Doris asked with obvious interest.

The boy's mouth twisted into a delighted grin.

"Chopped 'em up in the disposal unit, mixed in some compost, and fed it to the cows!"

Doris gave a deep, satisfied nod. "Good job. Today's a big day. We've got company, too."

The boy, who'd been sneaking peeks at D even as he spoke with his sister, now smiled knowingly at her. "Say, he's a looker, ain't he? So, this is how you like 'em, eh, Sis? You said the robots were in such lousy shape you were going out to look for someone to replace them, but it looks to me like you went out hunting for a man."

Doris flushed bright red.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. Don't talk that foolishness. This is Mr. D. He'll be helping us out around the farm for a while. And don't you be getting in his way now."

"There's nothing to be bashful about," the boy chuckled. "I know, I know. One eyeful of him, and old Greco don't look much better than a man-eating frog. I like him a heck of a lot better, too. Pleased to meet you, D."

"The pleasure's mine, Dan."

Showing no signs of being bothered by the emotionless tone D used even when addressing a child, the boy disappeared into the main house. The pair followed him inside.

"I 'm sorry, he must have really gotten on your nerves," Doris said in an apologetic tone when dinner was finished and she'd finally managed to drive Dan off to his bedroom, ignoring the boy's protests that he wasn't sleepy yet.

D passed the sword he normally wore on his back from his right hand to his left as he stood at the window gazing at the darkness beyond. Thanks to the clear weather that had persisted the past four or five days, the solar batteries on the roof were well charged and glittering light showered generously on every corner of the room from lighting panels set in the ceiling.

Apparently there was something about the inhospitable stranger the boy liked, and he'd planted himself by the man's side and wouldn't leave, imploring him to talk about the Capital, or to tell him about any monsters or supernatural creatures he might have slain in his travels. Then, to top it all off, he created quite a commotion when he said his sister was being a pest and grabbed D by the arm to try and bring him back to his room where they could talk man-to-man all night long.

"You see, he gets like that because travelers are so rare. And we don't usually have much to do with the folks in town, either." "It doesn't bother me. I take no offense at being admired." As he spoke, he made no attempt to look at Doris sitting on the sofa, wearing the shirt and jeans she'd changed into earlier. His tone was as cold as ever. Closing his eyes lightly, he said, "It's now nine twenty-six Night, Frontier Standard Time. Since it has already fed once on the person it's after, I don't imagine it'll be in that much of a hurry, so I suppose after midnight will be the time to watch. In the meantime, could you tell me everything you know about the enemy? Don't worry; your brother is already asleep. I can tell by his steady breathing."

Doris' eyes went wide. "You can hear something like that through the door and everything?"

"And the voice of the wind across the wilderness, and the vengeful song of the spirits wandering the forest shade," D murmured, then he came to stand at Doris' side with the smooth strides of a dancer.

When she felt that cold and righteous visage peering down at the nape of her neck, Doris shouted, "Stop!" and pulled away without thinking.

Though the abhorrence was quite evident in her voice, D's expression didn't change in the least. "I'm just going to have a look at your wounds. To get a general idea of how powerful a foe I'm up against."

"I'm sorry. Go ahead, take a look," she said, turning her face away and exposing her neck. Even if the slight trembling of her lips was a remnant of her reaction seconds earlier, the redness of her cheeks was caused, no doubt, by the embarrassment of a virgin having her flesh scrutinized by a wholly unfamiliar young man. After all, in her seventeen years, she hadn't so much as held hands with a boy before.

Seconds later, D's expression had a distant air to it. "When did you run into him?"

Doris breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice, which was entirely without cadence. But why was her foolish heart pounding so? Unaffected by her racing pulse, and gazing raptly at D's face all the while, she began to recount the tale of that terrible night in the most composed tone she could muster. "It was five nights ago. I was chasing a lesser dragon that'd slipped onto the farm while we were fixing the electromagnetic barrier and killed one of our cows, and when I finally thought I'd finished it off, it was already pitch-black out. To make matters worse, it was near his castle. I was all set to hightail it home when what should happen but the dying beast suddenly spits fire and burns the back half of my horse to a cinder. I'm thirty miles from home, and the only weapons I've got to speak of are the spear I use to kill lesser dragons and a dagger. I ran as fast as I could. I must've run for a good thirty minutes when I noticed something, like there was someone running along right behind me!"

Doris suddenly fell silent, not only because the memory of that terror had become fresh again, but also because a fiendish howl had just pierced the darkness from somewhere very close. The breath was knocked out of her as she turned her beautiful face in that direction, but soon enough she realized it was only the sound of some wild animal. Her expression became one of relief. Though rather dated, an electromagnetic barrier that had cost them a pretty penny sealed the perimeter of the farm, and within it they had a variety of missile weapons set up.

She resumed the account of her horrid experience. "At first I thought it was a werewolf or a poison moth man. But there was no sound of footsteps or wings flapping, and I couldn't even hear it breathing. Yet I just knew there was someone right behind me, no more than a foot away, and moving at exactly the same speed I was. I finally couldn't take it any more and I whipped around—and there was nothing there! Well, there was for a fraction of a second, but then it circled around behind me again." Memory was sowing terror across the girl's face. She gnawed her lip and tried to force her trembling voice out. D said nothing, but remained listening.

"That's when I started shouting. I told whoever it was to stop hiding behind me and come out that instant. And when I'd said that, out he came, dressed in a black cape just like I'd always heard. When I saw the pair of fangs poking over his mean, red lips, I knew what he had to be. After that, it's the same old story. I got my spear ready, but then my eyes met his and all the strength just drained right out of me. Not that it mattered much, because when that pasty face of his got closer and I felt breath as cold as moonlight on the base of my neck, my mind just went blank. The next thing I knew it was daybreak and I was lying out on the prairie with a pair of fang marks on my throat. That's why I've been down at the base of that hill each and every day, morning till night, looking for someone like you." Her emotional tale over at last, Doris slumped back onto the sofa exhausted. "And he hasn't fed on you again since?" "That's right. Though I do wait up for him every night with a spear ready."

D's eyes narrowed at her attempt at levity. "If we were merely dealing with a blood-starved Noble, he'd be coming every night. But, you see, the greater the interest they take in their victim, the longer the interval between attacks so they can prolong the pleasure of feeding. But the fact that it's been five days is incredible. It seems he's extremely taken with you."

'Spare me the damn compliments!" Doris cried. No trace of the spitfire who had challenged D to battle at twilight remained now. She sat there, a lovely seventeen-year-old girl trembling in fear.

As D surveyed her coolly, he added words that only made the hair on her neck stand higher. "The average interval between attacks is three to four days. More than five is extremely rare. He'll come tonight without a doubt. From what 1 can tell from your wounds, he's quite powerful, as Frontier Nobility go. You said something about 'his castle.' His identity is clear to you, is it?"

Doris gave a little nod. "He's been lord over this region since long before there was any village of Ransylva. His name is Count Lee. I've heard some say he's a hundred years old, while others say he's ten thousand."

"Ten thousand years old, eh? The powers of a Noble grow with the passing years. He could prove a troubling adversary," D said, though his tone didn't sound particularly troubled.

"The powers of a Noble? You mean things like the power to whip up a gale with a wave of the arm, or being able to turn into a fire dragon?"

Ignoring Doris' query, D said, "There's one last thing I need to ask you. How does your village handle those who've been bitten by vampires?"

The girl's face paled in an instant.

In many cases those who'd felt the baleful fangs of a vampire were isolated in their respective village or town while arrangements were made to destroy the culprit, but if they were simply unable to defeat the vampire, the victim would be driven from town or, in the worst cases, disposed of. This was the custom because a night fiend, crazed with rage at not being able to feed on the one it wanted, would attack anyone it could get its hands on. More towns and villages than anyone could count had been wiped out for just that reason. Ransylva had similar policies in effect. That was the reason Doris hadn't asked anyone else for help, but had privately sought a Vampire Hunter. Her failure to confide in her brother was for fear that his conduct might tip off the villagers if they happened to go into town. Had she no younger brother to consider, she'd surely have gone after the vampire on her own, or done away with herself.

Vampires dealt with their victims in one of two ways. Either they drained all the blood from their prey in one feeding and left them a mere corpse or, through repeated feedings, they turned the individual into a companion. The key point in the latter was not the number of times the vampire fed but rather something D had touched on earlier: whether or not the vampire took a liking to its victim. Sometimes a person joined their ranks after a single bite, while other times they might share the kiss of blood for months only to die in the end. And it went without saying that those transformed into vampires had to bear their destiny as detestable demons, wandering each night in search of warm human blood, living in darkness eternal. For Doris, and for every other person in this world, that was the true terror.

"Everywhere it's the same, isn't it," D muttered. "Accursed demons, ghouls from the darkness, blood-crazed devils. Bitten once and you're one of them. Well, let them say what they will. Stand up, please," he said to Doris, who was caught off-guard by the one remark meant for her. "It looks like the guest we were expecting has come. Let me see the remote control for your electromagnetic barrier."

"What, he's here already? You just said he'd be here after midnight."

"I'm surprised, too."

But he didn't look it in the least.

D oris came back from her bedroom with the remote control and handed it to D.

In order to keep all kinds of strange visitors from sneaking onto the farm while both Lang children were away, they had to have some way to erect the force field from the outside. Acquired secondhand off a black market in the Capital shortly after their father's death four years ago, the barrier was their greatest treasure except, of course, for the rare occasions when it broke down. Their losses to the wraiths and rabid beasts that wandered the night were far less than those of other homes on the periphery; to be more exact, their losses were practically nonexistent. But the purchase came with a price. After they bought it, they were left with less than a third of their father's life savings.

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