โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ "Long blonde hair... A man
โ โ โ โ โ wrapped in a silent melancholy..." โ It was him.
โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ The real reason why Dante asked him for help, ignoring the will of his fellow creature, was something that Vanitas would discover during the journey into historical Wallachia. Ever since Dante came to explain his request to him, the doctor of vampires had sensed that there was something more, but the redhead knew well how to sell his proposal, and for the moment, what was convincing was enough to make Vanitas agree to leave. The first answer of the blue-eyed man was that he dealt with vampires, not Dhams who, even if due to an illness, had spontaneously chosen to isolate themselves in a castle โ a humiliating legacy of disdain, in the palpably resentful voice of one who protects his time like a desecrated cult; a raised eyebrow in the furrowed forehead, an inviolable feeling, in a plastic example that betrayed the same eerie perception; yet, despite every thought that Vanitas kept beyond the unyielding wall of that appearance, Alucard's story could not in any way avoid involving him...
โ โ โ The small group was gathered around a lantern. With his buttocks resting on the unyielding solid wood parquet, Vanitas pressed his gloved palms on his spread thighs, crossing his ankles. He had Dante and Riche in front of him, while Noรฉ and Johann coasted him. In that dark and forgotten room, the golden light of the flame seemed like a secret to be shared with few. While Vanitas stared at the half-illuminated face of the redhead, waiting for something that could hit the mark, time had stopped at the slowness of the dripping wax. The boy leaned toward the light and drew closer to the Dham, reflecting the movement of the other, to allow himself to listen to what the informant seemed to want to protect, in the small circle of the trench, from the gigantic shadow listeners that flickered on the stone walls.
Here was the point. Neither Dante nor Johann and Riche had ever met Alucard, but all the rumors told the same story. "Alucard was the half-blood son of the lord of vampires, Dracula. When he was a child, his mother was burned at the stake by humans on charges of witchcraft. The father, instead, perished by the hand of his own heir. It was Alucard, together with two vampire hunters, who killed Dracula. Since then, Alucard locked himself in Dracula's castle, and almost no one has seen him since..."
โ โ โ To think that Vanitas would find this of his own personal interest, probably Dante and his people had discussed the same thought that the doctor could not help but have. The death of the lord of vampires would have transmitted the doubts of a story interrupted and buried artfully in that castle: too artfully, for someone who, like Vanitas, knew how the architecture of history was designed.
โ โ โ Whether it concerned... a curse-bearer?
โ โ โ Apparently, Noรฉ too had heard of Dracula, his master always mentioned him, in confidential ways. Good. In reality, that Dham, about whom his fellow creatures, now, seemed to want to each have their own right to speak, could know many things... Hehe . Hit the mark! No regret for this, no idiot pride to overcome him, on the contrary: Vanitas was waiting for nothing else than for that mark to come and snap a heartbeat inside him; not a perverse dynamic of power, either, the premises did not inspire him. It was simply business, right? There was no place for matters like pride or something that could have hindered profit, and since Vanitas, for a long time now, had decided that his own life dealt with the same thing, he knew well how to make the dynamic work. Unless a real pitfall threatened the formula in which he had shaped his existence, then he did not feel the need to do the things of proud guys, more than a valid reason to not give a fuck and have nothing to prove. To whom did he owe what? To himself? To others? To life? He would have laughed in the face of all three options.
The doctor's cheeks suddenly raised the corners of his sinuous lips, and a sound like a frothy cough slammed against the flat air of the room, foreshadowing, without granting anything other than a time of perplexity, a laugh that dishonored modesty and owed no explanations.
โ โ โ โ โ โ โ HAHAHAHA โ The brunet abandoned his posture on the creaking parquet, lying down with his arms stretched toward the wall, while, unbending his knees, he banged, one at a time, his heels on the smooth floor. When he finished doing it, he pushed his torso back onto his glutes, tormenting the wood.
โ โ โ โ โ โ โ It seems it is already very cold, in Wallachia ยทฬฒยทฬฒยท He hugged himself greedily, possessive hands and claws dug into his biceps; a sparkling euphoria narrowed his blue-gene irises around his pupils, which devoured the small light like a wild beast excited by blood; the scent of enthusiasm that fizzed, something that Vanitas knew how to savor; a feverish hunger like a kiss that rips the sap, and from which the boy was capable of drawing with each of his greedy, playful senses; a eerie possession, an exclusive complicity with himself, until someone, Noรฉ, proposed a clarification. Vanitas did not mind the hesitant tone, he had no reason to trouble himself for a concern; after all, his consent put everything in place.
โ โ โ The forest murmured the presence of Alucard, asking the doctor of vampires for an attention with a fatal aftertaste โ a hiss of venom that flatters the skin and adores the soul. In that moment, Vanitas momentarily forgot any other fact that would distract him from that call; he forgot that, due to a sort of diabolical ritual, Noรฉ had lost himself in the forest, and that he would have to waste his time looking for him, only to meet, within two hours, the rest of the group in front of Dracula's castle.
His blue gaze waited, with cold patience, for the moment when the white hand of the forest handed him its human.
โ โ โ "Long blonde hair... A man wrapped in a silent melancholy..." โ It was him.
โ โ โ โ โ โ โ Are you Alucard อ? Vanitas asked without embarrassment, a bloom of blood on his nose stiffened by the thick cold.
โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ ac @silverwoodcursed
โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ โ [ ๐ ๐๐๐ข๐ @thelittleapron ]
