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Vol.1 Vampire Hunter D 7 страница"Well done for a lone woman," the Count muttered with admiration, his eyes bloodshot. "She's every bit the fighter I thought she'd be. Child, I must have your blood at all costs. Wait for me." Doris knew she had exhausted all means at her disposal. As the monitor was switched to the interior of the house, the visage of a thirsting demon filled the screen. Suddenly the living room door was knocked back into the room. Doris leapt up from the control console and stood in front of Dr. Ferringo to shield him. "Child," the figure in the doorway said, "while you fight admirably for a woman, the battle is done. You must favor me with a taste of your hot blood." The snap of a whip split the air. "Come," the Count commanded in a penetrating voice. The tip of her whip lost its impetus in midair, and the weapon fell to the floor in coils. Doris began walking with the shaky steps of a marionette, but the elderly physician grabbed her shoulder. His right hand covered her nostrils, and the young woman slumped to the floor without a sound. The physician had kept a chloroform-soaked cloth concealed in his hand all along. "So you intend to interfere with me, old fool?" the Count asked in a stark, white voice devoid of all emotion. "Well, I can't stand back and do nothing," the old man responded, stepping forward with his left hand clenched. "Here's something you hate—garlic powder." A wave of unrest passed across the Count's face, but he soon gave a broad grin. "You should be complimented on your discovery—but you truly are foolish. True enough, I am powerless against that scent. You may slip through my grasp this night. But the instant you confirm how effective it is against me, that confirmation shall cost you all memory of the very thing you hold in your hand. And tomorrow evening I shall come again." "I'm not gonna let you do that." "Oh, and what shall you do?" "This old fool had a life once, too. Thirty years back, Sam Ferringo was known as something of an Arachni-man Hunter. And I know a thing or two as well about how to do battle with your kind." "I see." There was a glint in the Count's eyes. The elderly physician gave a wave of his hand. Powder and a strange odor swirled through the air. Gagging, the vampire reeled back with his cape over his nose and mouth. He was struck with a horrible urge to vomit. He felt utterly enervated, as if his brains were melting and life itself was draining from his body. The cells in his sinus cavity—the olfactory nerves that make the sense of smell possible—were dealt a devastating blow by the allicin that gives garlic its distinctive aroma. "Your kinds' days are over. Back to the world of darkness and destruction with you!" At some point, Dr. Ferringo had pulled out a foot-long stake. With the rough wooden weapon in his right hand, the physician advanced. Right before his eyes, a black bird snapped its wings open. It was the Count's cape. Like a sentient being, it wrapped around the elderly physician's wrists, then swept around wildly to hurl the man clear across the room—all without the Count appearing to lift a finger. This was one of the secret tricks of the Nobility. The Count had learned it from no less than the Sacred Ancestor of his race. Scrambling desperately to rise from the floor, the elderly physician was horrified to see the still wildly coughing Count climbing onto Doris. "Wait!" The Count's face eclipsed part of the girl's throat. What the physician saw astonished him. The Count fell backward, his face pale. Perhaps no one had ever seen a Noble wear such an expression of stark terror as the elderly physician now witnessed. Ignoring the awestruck physician, the figure in black disappeared through the door, his cape fluttering behind him. When the elderly physician finally got to his feet, rubbing his hip all the while, he could hear the echo of wagon wheels fading into the distance. Somehow or other, it looks like we're out of the woods for now. Just as this tremendous feeling of relief welled up inside him, Dr. Ferringo suddenly got the feeling he'd forgotten something important and cocked his head to one side. What in the blazes is that smell? And why did that bastard take to his heels?
Soaring Shrike-Blades of Death
Chapter 5
A s soon as the sun was up the next morning, Doris entrusted the still slumbering Dan to the elderly physician and left the farm. "Are you dead set on going? Even supposing he's still alive, you’ve got no idea whether or not you'll find him." Doc was referring to D, of course. Doris kept her silence and smiled. It wasn't a disheartened smile. She'd save him all "Don't worry, we'll be back for sure. Take care of Dan for me." And with that, she wheeled her horse around toward the vampires' castle. She was scared. She'd already felt the vampire's baleful fangs once, and had nearly been attacked again scant hours earlier. And she'd already lost all memory of the effectiveness of garlic having heard from Dr. Ferringo that the Count had run off for some unknown reason, Doris assured herself the powder really had worked. As soon as she came to believe it, however, every memory of the powder was purged from her brain. In its place, She couldn't beat him. There was no way to stop him. While she raced across the plains with a display of equestrian skill that would put any man to shame, her heart was poised to drop into a pit of the darkest despair until the innocent face of her brother Dan caught her and pulled her back. Don't worry, your big sister aren’t about to let that bastard get the best of her. I'll bring D back, and then well get rid of the lot of them, she thought. Beyond Dan's face, another face flickered. Colder than that of the Count, a visage so exquisite it gave her goose bumps. Be alive. I don't care how bad you're hurt, just please still be alive.
E ven after the weather controller's "comfort-control time" was over, the chill-laden morn on the prairie was so beautiful and charged with vitality that the green of the landscape took on a deeper hue. A dozen men on horseback, looking like they'd ridden hard all night, kicked up a cloud of dust as they came to an abrupt halt on a road traversed only by a pleasant morning breeze. The road ran on into the village of Ransylva, stitching its way between prairies of waist-high grass. Seventy feet ahead, four figures had sprung from the undergrowth and now stood in the middle of the road, blocking the traveler's way. "What the hell are you trying to prove?!" "We're the Frontier Defense Force, dispatched on orders from the Capital. Out of our way!" The eyes of the second man to shout narrowed cautiously. The outlandish appearance of this foursome touched on remembered dangers. "A girlish little punk, a big freaking bastard, a bag of bones with a pointed head, and a hunchback—you pricks wouldn't happen to be the Fiend Corps would you?" "An excellent deduction," Rei-Ginsei said with a grin wholly befitting the lush, green morning. With that gem of a smile, it was hard to imagine this dashing youth as head of the brutal bandit gang that had terrorized the northern part of the Frontier. "We came down here to make a little money after our faces got a wee bit too well known up north, but before we can even get started, it comes to our attention you boys are going from village to village posting warrants for us, so we decided to wait for you out here. Kindly refrain from doing anything untoward." To the man, the members of the FDF were enraged by his Heavy metallic clinks echoed from the saddles of the squad members serried behind him. That was the sound of shells being automatically fed into the recoilless bazookas each man was issued. The squad members already had Rei-Ginsei and his group in the unswerving sights of their laser rifles. No matter how the bandits' battle in the saloon the previous day had defied imagining, it seemed unlikely that mortal men like themselves could weather the FDF's assault. How does this strike you—since you went to all the trouble of turning yourselves in, we'll let you throw down your weapons, okay? That way you'll at least get to go on living till they get you up on the hangman's scaffold," said the commander. "I don't fancy that." "Why, you little punk!" "By all means, shoot me if it'll make you feel any better. But before you do, there's one thing you seem to be forgetting." The commander knit his brow in consternation. "The Fiend Corps is not a quartet," Rei-Ginsei said in an exquisite voice. "What?!" A stir ran through the FDF members. At some point, the foursome had taken their eyes off the FDF and turned them straight to the side. "We have a guardian angel the rest of the world knows nothing about." Still looking off to the side, Rei-Ginsei pulled the corner of his lips up sharply. His was the devil's own smile. "Oh, here it comes now!" When an unremitting source of terror to the human body and soul appeared right in front of them, the degree of shock each of the victims felt seemed to be directly dependent on their proximity to it. The instant the thing materialized from thin air, hovering over the commander's horse, the leader died of shock, and the five FDF members within ten feet of him went insane. And that wasn't all. Apparently even animals could see the thing, or perhaps they could sense its troubling presence; the lead horses forgot all about running away, but instead dropped to a spasming heap on the ground, frothing from the nose and mouth. The rest of the steeds reared up. Most likely, the FDF members who fell from their mounts as a result didn't cry out because part of their psyches had already been shattered. Some of them had their heads staved by the hooves of the rampaging horses, while others seemed frozen as they watched it coming closer and closer. The thing leisurely made its way from one survivor to the next, touching each of the members in turn. The Capital's greatest fighting men quietly died of madness, powerless to stop it. "Well, what do you think? The fifth member of the Fiend Corps is quite the looker, isn't it?" The last member of the FDF was crawling across the ground, but as he listened to Rei-Ginsei's sardonic laughter the thing suddenly vanished without a trace. "What the—?!" As the startled Rei-Ginsei looked over his shoulder, the sole surviving FDF member trained his laser rifle on the bandit's forehead. Thanks to a Spartan training regime, he could still muster murderous intent toward the enemy despite his insanity. "Boss!" Before Golem could move, a beam of red light pierced Rei-Ginsei's brow. However, it was the FDF member who jerked backwards. Incredibly, the laser beam that hit Rei-Ginsei right between the eyes burst out of the back of the other man's head. A stench of seared flesh and brains hung in the otherwise refreshing air. "Are you okay, boss?" the man with the pointed head asked as he cast a loathsome gaze on the soldiers littering the ground. Not merely his head, but the man's entire frame was streamlined like a shooting-star class rocket. He was called Gimlet. "I believe I'll survive," Rei-Ginsei laughed, rubbing his forehead. There was a black circle about a quarter inch in diameter scorched right between his eyebrows. While the others inquired no further after his condition, the four fiends looked at each other with concern over another suspicious occurrence. "Something must've happened to Witch," said the hunchbacked man. "Chullah's right," Rei-Ginsei chimed in. "The only reason I made such a blunder is because I never in a million years imagined that thing just disappearing in the middle of an operation." He certainly had a strange way of covering his blunders. Turning back to the expanse of prairie to his left, he muttered, "If one of her spells should break at her age, she'll be walking the cold, dark road to hell..." "Would you like me to go check it out?" asked Gimlet. He shook his fine head from side to side. "No, I shall look into this. The rest of you kindly dispose of these unsightly remains. Burn them or eat them, whichever suits your fancy," he said, smiling at his disturbing orders.
A nd this is what was happening while the gruesome battle neared its conclusion, or rather, to be precise, just before the sudden disappearance of the thing that had materialized from thin air. Racing across the plains, Doris was just about to turn her steed in a new direction when she discovered something unexpected in someplace unimaginable and jerked her horse's reins in the opposite direction instead. The spot was less than a mile and a quarter from Count Lee's castle. Bypassing the more circuitous roads, she'd galloped straight through a hilly region, but from here on out, she'd have to take a somewhat less direct route. Her father had brought her here just once when she was little and she'd seen it from a distance then, but she'd never seen the place from this close before. Half of her frightened, the other half deadly serious, she took in the mysterious scenery stretching out in the morning light. The villagers called this place The Devil's Quarry. In this part of the endless expanse of prairie, there were countless statues standing like stone forests, or laying on the ground and looking to the heavens. No two had the same face or form, and there wasn't a single statue that didn't have the aspect of some bizarre monstrosity. A sculpture of a baldheaded man with incredibly large eyes, a bust of a creature with dozens of arms baring its fangs, a full-length statue with thousands of beastly brides each individually carved—all these pieces of incomparably detailed craftsmanship were covered with moss, as were the remnants of stone walls and columns that called to mind the ruins of some ancient citadel. Together, they seemed to form a completely alien dimension. Even the morning sunlight, that should've breathed life into every hill and valley in the world, lent the faces of the sculptures weirder shadows than it might have as the particles of light were swallowed by the moss and the desolate atmosphere, or sank with leaden weight. Even the air was dank. People said this was the place where the Nobility had once held their wretched ceremonies, or a quarry used in the construction of the castle, but the latter theory was easily dismissed. After all, there wasn't any stone in this whole region to be quarried. At any rate, this was a forbidden area, and no one from the village ever entered. What had caught Doris' eye was an old woman seated in a deep, bowl-shaped depression near the center of the Devil's Quarry doing the same baffling gestures over and over. Her age was unclear. Judging by her gray hair and the wrinkles creasing her yellowed skin, both of which were obvious even at this distance, she looked to be nearly a hundred, and yet her body seemed strangely imbued with vitality. What is this? Some old lady lost in her travels, taking a breather? Even if Doris couldn't bring her all the way into town, she could at least give the woman directions back to the main road. But as Doris was just about to give her mount a flick of the reins, she stayed her hand and quietly slipped down to the ground instead. Wrapped in a dull gray overcoat, the crone's torso was bent forward at an extreme angle, and there was something about the sight of her--with eyes fixed on her own fingertips as they clutched at nothing -- that just felt evil. Of course, Doris was completely unaware that very moment on the road a few miles distant, a strange entity that appeared out of thin air was busy delivering death by insanity to the members of the FDF. Muffling her own footfalls as she led her horse, Doris made her way into the Devil's Quarry, tethered her mount to a nearby pillar, and came up behind the crone. Apparently the old woman didn't notice, as she didn't move at all. As Doris drew closer, she felt goose bumps spread across her flesh. A poisonous miasma was rising from the crone's vicinity. Clearly she was using some arcane skill toward foul ends. The sound of a low voice chanting a spell reached Doris' ears. "Stop that!" she shouted despite herself as she took a few steps forward. At that instant, something whizzed out of the bushes and glanced off her cheek. Doris dropped to the ground with lightning speed. Holding her breath and remaining alert, she touched her left hand to her cheek. Warm blood clung to her fingertips. A spirit beast, eh? Looks like she's got her warded zone set up right around here, Doris thought. To her left, Doris felt a keen presence. She made a quick combat roll to one side and let fly with the whip in her right hand. Unfortunately, her deadly strike only kicked grass into the air, but she sensed her opponent changing direction to fall back a good distance. When conjurers and sorcerers worked their art, they Doris was well aware the only thing that had saved her was the superb reflex of a trained Hunter. The average person would've had their throat torn open a few seconds ago. In her heart, she whispered thanks to her father. It’s forty feet to the old lady. Guess this calls for a bit of trickery, Dons muttered to herself. This dangerous gamble was her only choice. She had no idea what kind of misery her opponent could be causing with her spell. Once again, her whip mowed through open air right toward the crone. Slashing through the air, the spirit beast attacked Doris. At that moment, her whip snapped back. An instant later, she could feel something in the air rip in half. The air was suddenly flooded with a choking malevolence, but it dispersed quickly enough. "Waagh!" The scream that escaped the crone as she doubled over made Doris leap to her feet in the brush. Doris had drawn the spirit beast out by appearing to attack the crone, then used a flick of her wrist to turn the blow on the beast at the last possible second. Of course, if her timing had been off by a split second, Doris would have been the one to die. Her suicidal gamble had paid off, but it had also had an unforeseen side effect. Because the crone had created the spirit beast with her own sorcery, the destruction of the beast meant a disturbance to her other spell as well. She invested the whole of her life force in performing that spell, and when it was broken, the crone's black heart beat its last. It was at just that moment the outlandish creature bearing down on the last remaining FDF member vanished. "Hey, lady! C'mon, snap out of it!" Doris raced over and took her in her arms, but the crone's eyes showed dead white, foam spilled from her mouth, and the mortified look on her wrinkled features defied description. There was a pentagram branded on her forehead, the mark of a sorceress. "Oh, crap! This isn't quite what I had in mind..." Though this was an evil sorceress, and her own actions had clearly been in self defense, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait here until I can come back. I've got serious business to attend to." Doris laid the corpse out on the ground, and was about to Still, the dark body of the crone looked so terribly sad and forlorn stretched out on the ground. The wind tugged at the sleeves of her overcoat. And a corpse abandoned in the wilds was a tempting target for monsters. It would be bad enough to have them feasting on her, but if one of them got inside her that would be yet another threat to humanity. Even in broad daylight, there were probably some creatures around that might risk turning into a ball of flame to slink out and take possession of a corpse that hadn't been disposed of properly. Doris didn't have any of the gear she'd need to take care of the body. She didn't see a horse or wagon for the crone. On inspection, the inner pocket of the crone's overcoat contained nothing aside from a few suspicious-looking trinkets. Doris went back to the body and lifted it gently. "I don't really think there are any critters to take you over out here, but I'm gonna bring you with me anyway. Of course, I can't offer any guarantees we'll make it back in one piece, either." Loading the corpse onto the horse behind the saddle, Doris Doris realized she'd had a very close call. Right behind her was the decapitated corpse of the crone, frozen in place with its claws a heartbeat away from tearing into the girl's throat. The snapped binding dangled from its wrists. An evil spirit had possessed the corpse before Doris had even touched it. The instant it snapped its bonds to attack Doris from behind, the figure on the distant hill had lopped the head off with consummate skill and speed. Her horse gave a shake, and the headless corpse dropped to the ground. Doris finally turned to face her savior. "Oh, D, I was..." An elated hue lit up her face, but it was gone all too soon. While the figure coming down off the hill fresh from his graceful display of skill certainly had beauty on par with D, he was clearly someone else. "I can't believe you picked up on that." As he pulled up along side her on his horse, Rei-Ginsei smiled blindingly. He was referring to how she had sensed a strange presence, and turned around a split second before the possessed corpse attacked. "That was nothing. It looks like I'm in your debt again. What kind of weapon did you use?" Rei-Ginsei took a playfully surprised expression at her less than ladylike inquiry. "If you'll forgive my saying so, judging by your clothing and that whip, you appear to be a Hunter." "My father was. I just sorta play at it," Doris said without embarrassment or modesty, and then she smiled. She wasn't entirely sure why, but her smile felt strangely forced. Realizing that even after they'd exchanged civilities Doris' eyes were not focused on his face but rather on his weapon-girt waist, the dashing youth smiled grimly. "What brings you here of all places at this hour of the morning, sir? You been out on the road?" "Yes, that's it exactly." "In that case, you suppose you could bring this old lady's body back into town for me? Normally I'd have to go and explain what happened to the sheriff, but the truth is, I'm kind of in a hurry." Doris stopped her horse and proceeded to recount the entire incident. Listening silently until the end, Rei-Ginsei then muttered, "I see now. So that's what happened to it... I can take care of the corpse for you. I shall see to it both are disposed of properly." "Both?" Doris knit her brow, but as the dashing youth's carefree smile struck her, she reflected a smile of her own. "Okay, then. Thanks." As she was reining her horse around, her arm was grabbed from the side, drawing the lovely young woman into an embrace on horseback. The sweet aroma that lingered around his mouth wasn't what she'd expect from any man. "What the hell..." "I have saved your life, even though it meant slaying one of my four companions. Of course, you're also quite beautiful. And then there's the matter of your rescue yesterday. I hardly think anyone would blame me for taking a little compensation." "You'd better leave me alone, or else—" "You've also seen something you shouldn't have. We really can't have you going into town and telling everyone about that. So you'll have to die out here. Why don't we just say I'm avenging my fallen comrade? Don't put up such a fight. You'll live a while longer. Until I've taken my pleasure, at least." The dashing youth's mouth locked over the virgin's lips. There was a gasp, and Rei-Ginsei quickly pulled back. He pressed his hand to his mouth, and blood spread across the back of it. A bite from Doris had torn his lips open. "Don't fuck with me! I've got someone I care about. I wouldn't let a creep like you touch me!" Her tone was awe inspiring. She thought Rei-Ginsei's countenance would flush with anger, but he simply smiled. Only j it wasn't the charming smile that people couldn't help but return. It was the satanic grin he'd worn on the main road. Giving a shudder, Doris lashed her whip at the center of his face. Less than a foot and a half lay between them. It was really too close to swing the whip. And yet the swirl of black from the girl's fist leapt right up at the youth's dashing face. It was about to land there when it disappeared into the black streak of lightning shooting up from her foe's waist. Rei-Ginsei's skill in drawing his bizarre, v-shaped weapon—and slashing off the end of her whip in the blink of an eye—was truly miraculous. And yet, his face had none of the tension of a battle about to be joined, but rather held the same smile as before. "Hyah!" Realizing in a heartbeat she didn't stand a chance of victory, Doris reined her horse toward the ruins and took off at full speed. In her haste to take flight, she forgot the might of her foe's weapon, and the way it had taken off the crone's head from a hilltop over sixty feet away. Rei-Ginsei didn't throw his weapon immediately. As Doris' mount neared the heart of the ruins, he finally let the weapon fly with an underhanded throw. Whirring as it chased down the rapidly dwindling speck of Doris and her steed, it mercilessly slashed through the horse's right-rear leg and right-front leg, turned a graceful loop, and came right back at them severing both legs on the left side. As the loss of one leg would've sufficed to prevent the girl's escape, this was a display of sheer brutality. A bloody mist went out as the horse fell. 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