Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction ❯ Herculean Task ❯ Task I ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: Vampire Hunter D belongs to its respective creator and companies. No copyright infringement is intended.

“Who knows what true loneliness is—not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.”

-Joseph Conrad

The sun was beating down on the Frontier plains, baking what little mud was left from the rain the night before. It was reaching midday, and the sun was at its peak, making even the earth seemingly sweat from the scorching heat. It was this fact that allowed only the toughest of people to travel in these harsh conditions, causing many people to do their traveling early in the day. Frontier summers were far from pleasant. And yet, even though this was the norm, today was somewhat unusual.

A boy of about twelve ran at a frantic pace while his lungs screamed for air, kicking up small clouds of dust as his feet pounded the hard earth. No more than ten feet away from him was a mob of townspeople armed with flaming torches and wooden stakes throwing stones in his wake. In his haste, the scarf covering the boy's nose and mouth was lost, streaming out behind him like a colorful banner, exposing what had caused such a commotion. Approximately three centimeters above his right collarbone was the identification number VB 005.

The boy was a dhampir.

Due to the Dhampir Branding Act imposed in AD 12,097 by a Noble-hating official, all dhampirs were required by law to be tattooed with an identification number once they reached the age of three. The human parent of the half-breed child was then prompted to record the details of the parental side that contained the Noble blood. This information was forwarded to the Capital where it was filed in the main Dhampir Registry which was kept under lock and key. As such, dhampirs were now easier to identify and were normally driven out of the town where they were now unwelcome. The act accomplished what it was supposed to do—to make the lives of dhampirs miserable.

The boy ran on.

A lone horse and rider rose over the crest of the surmounting hill. The rider was swathed entirely in black and a wide-brimmed traveler's hat shielded his eyes from the glaring onslaught of the sun. The man possessed a beauty almost otherworldly in its nature and the sight alone was enough to make both women and men swoon. Despite this, though, an unearthly aura radiated off of him, perfecting his image of grace yet sowed the seeds of terror to all who were near it—a pristine gem that one could only look at but not touch.

This man was also a dhampir. The Capital only knew him as VB 001, consequently making him the first one added to the registry. However, to those who had heard the stories that were constantly whispered throughout the Frontier's taverns, he was known as the Vampire Hunter D.

He was highly spoken of among other Hunters, praising him for his ability to complete any task assigned to him and the speed of which he worked. More than anything, though, he was known for being immovable, and that trait alone is what made him so fearsome.

D suddenly pulled back on the horse's reins. About two kilometers away, he had caught the sounds of angry shouting and verbal abuse—a kind that he knew all too well. It was clear that the shouts belonged to a disgruntled mob that was chasing a dhampir out of their beloved home. Giving his horse a nudge in the sides, he pressed on, but halted yet again.

A boy of about twelve was approaching him with a seemingly ungodly speed for such short legs.

While enhanced speed wasn't an unusual feature for a dhampir, there was something about this young one that seemed somewhat out of place. D had sensed an aura about the boy that hinted that whichever parent contained the blood of the Nobility was a strong one.

Dismounting, the Hunter stuck out an arm, catching the fleeing boy square in the chest, barring his advance any further. The younger dhampir clearly didn't appreciate this at all as he promptly began to struggle against the Hunter's strong grip. Realizing that this was having no effect whatsoever, the boy provided resistance that only those who sprung from the Nobility could do—he sunk his fangs into D's arm.

The Hunter didn't move.

Raising his head to face the pursing mob, he said but one word: “Leave.”

The crowd halted as pure animalistic terror washed over them.

“Leave,” the Hunter said again, and even though his voice was softer than it had previously been, it carried an air about it that had no tolerance for disobedience. As such, the person at the head of the mob turned tail and ran, heartlessly leaving his cohorts behind to follow in his wake. After watching the backs of the retreating townspeople shrinking into the distance, D turned his eyes back on the boy still latched onto his now thoroughly blood-soaked arm.

“Let go.” The command was soft like the order he had given the rioting group, but whether the boy realized there was no threat behind it, unlike the one before, would remain a mystery.

The child seemed to hesitate for an instant before slackening his jaw and extracting his fangs. As he stood there with his face hidden by the tattered black cap he wore, the boy spoke for the first time: “Let me pass.”

The boy's voice was soft as well, almost rusted in sound, and yet it still had a rough quality to it, almost as if speaking caused him pain. There was no hint of a childish and playful soul left in this young boy. He had lived a hard life and had experienced too much than one his age should have.

“Half your vocal cords were torn out, weren't they?”

The boy jolted at the question the Hunter had directed towards him. It was apparent that the question had been unexpected and judging by the boy's reaction, D had hit the answer right on the mark. Still, the boy did not respond. Suddenly, without any warning at all, the boy fell to his knees and retched violently, avoiding the Hunter's boots by mere inches. His condition became apparent—Sunlight Syndrome. As the Hunter reached for the boy, presumably to push his hair out of his face to keep him from choking on his own vomit, three words tumbled forth from the boy's mouth in what sounded like a moan of pain: “Don't touch me.”

It was amazing that such a small boy could put so much malice into his voice, and one could only wonder where he kept it all. If these words had ruffled D in some way, he didn't show it. There was suddenly the muffled sound of a blow to the gut, followed by a soft thud. The Hunter had knocked the child out.

A crude voice from nowhere in particular addressed the Hunter.

“Oh yes, his father's a strong one all right,” the voice said before entering a round of chuckles.

“You know something, don't you?” D asked, addressing the unseen presence.

“I might,” the voice replied mockingly, “but deep down you already know what that something is.”

D suddenly clenched his left hand into a tight fist, blood dripping from between his fingers from where his nails had dug into his skin. And yet, one could only wonder what had provoked such an emotion from the normally cold and stoic youth.

III

“Well, I don't quite know what you need this information for, but here's the copy of the file you requested,” the Sheriff said, handing D a thin leaflet of papers.

D, after hitching his horse to a tree in a nearby forest where he had buried the boy neck down in soil, had made a small detour to the Capital to pick up a specific dhampir registration file. Watching as the Hunter flicked through the pages of scant information, the Sheriff continued, “You know, we've had quite a few problems with that specific dhampir in the past and it doesn't help that the surrounding villages have started to panic upon hearing that he escaped from the internment camp earlier this month. You haven't happened to see him around these parts, have you?”

D stared at a specific page contained in the file for a few seconds before promptly snapping its covers shut.

“No, I haven't seen him,” he told the Sheriff plainly before placing the file back down on the Sheriff's desk and heading towards the door. “If I do happen to cross paths with him, you'll be the first to know.”

The Sheriff never saw the troubled look in the youth's eyes as he watched the Hunter disappear with a sweep of his long black coat. On his desk lay the folder left open at a certain page. At the top was what had caused the Hunter to hesitate in answering the Sheriff's question: Daniel Samuel Lang (VB 005).

The boy awoke with a jolt at the sound of a fire crackling.

“You're awake,” a voice to his left stated. Turning his head to the source of the noise the voice spoke once more. “Don't move. You'll make yourself sick again.”

Inside his heart of hearts, the boy was afraid. He had no idea where he was or who he was with. While he recognized the voice as the man who had blocked his retreat only a few hours before, his identity still remained a mystery.

“Hit the ground with your foot,” the boy said weakly, turning his face back up towards the sky.

The Hunter didn't so much as raise an eyebrow at this odd request and sharply gave the hard earth a good smack with the heel of his boot. Watching the young boy's silent face for a moment or two, D addressed the boy once more.

“You're blind, aren't you?”

While the boy knew that the Hunter's words were phrased as a question that didn't really merit an answer, the boy paused before rasping, “Yes. Without vibrations, I'm left in a dark far worse than the kind of darkness caused by the blanket of nightfall.”

There was another long pause as the two dhampirs listened to the song of the wind that was blowing across the trees' foliage.

“Were your parents chased out of their home as well?”

The boy didn't even look at D as he answered. “No. My father left before I was born and my mother…” The boy broke off there before swallowing thickly and continued. “My mother was killed and…and I…and I was the cause of it all…”

D suddenly caught the faint scent of salt. The boy, while his voice didn't reveal it, was crying.

“It was an accident, of course,” the boy explained, “but all the same, I was still the one responsible… As punishment, I blinded myself with a silver knife so my vision would never return, serving as a constant reminder of how I was left in the dark when I murdered my own mother…” The boy broke off once again and D didn't press the matter any further. Instead, strangely, a small smile twitched at the corner of the Hunter's lips.

“Your mother was a very strong person.”

“From what Mother told me, so was my father.”

D shook his head, even though the boy couldn't see it.

“No,” he answered softly. “Your father was very weak—both a coward and a fool.”

“How would you know?” the child bit back sharply. The boy was frustrated. He could sense the conversation leading somewhere, but couldn't quite wrap his mind around what.

“Because you're talking to him.”

After struggling within himself for a few beats, the boy spat words dripping with venom at his father. “So Mother was just some plaything to you—just a convenient way to pass the time?” D could sense the boy's fists tightening beneath the earth.

“No. Things weren't supposed to end up this way,” the Hunter replied.

“So I was unwanted then—a mistake?”

“Not unwanted,” D's voice was a whisper now, “just unexpected.”

A very pregnant and uncomfortable silence fell over the two.

“You know,” the boy began, listening to the earth crumble in on itself as he gently lifted himself up out of the hole, “with the way Mother spoke about you, I always envisioned you as some god-like figure.” The boy chuckled lightly. “I was only four then, so I was pretty naïve. As time went by, however, I grew to hate you, even though I never showed it to Mother. How could I love a father who was never there? It was then I realized that not all children are born through mutual love.”

“Is that what you think?” The reply that reached the boy's ears was totally unexpected. “Do you really think I would take such a risk with your mother if the feeling wasn't mutual?”

The boy turned to face D.

“What do you mean?”

There was a pause in the Hunter's answer before he replied with some difficulty, “I…was not born through either one-sided or mutual love. I…know all too well what loneliness is…” He hesitated for the slightest fraction of a second before he continued in a voice that was tinged with sorrow. “I was just…an experiment.” The tone of finality in his voice told the boy that there were to be no more questions concerning the matter. “There's much of your mother in you…though knowing her, she probably said the opposite.” A smile twitched at the corners of his lips.

The boy didn't know what to say.

Presently, the sound of running footsteps reached their ears.

“Well, well,” a voice originating from D's left hand began wryly, “it seems the Capital's Youth Brigade has come to call.” The Hunter heard the boy give off a long sigh and mutter something that sounded like “here we go again” from behind.

The Youth Brigade was only ten meters away now, and the boy caught the whine of a sword leaving its sheath.

“Stay your hand,” the boy said, addressing the Hunter. “This fight is mine and mine alone.”

D gazed at the young dhampir for a moment before quietly retreating into the encroaching shadows that had followed in the heels of the setting sun. He didn't return the sword to the scabbard on his back.

“Watch him, D,” his left hand warned. “The boy's biorhythms are currently in a very unstable state. He might lose control.”

D said nothing, but watched silently as the three boys that made up this squad's Youth Brigade halted less than three feet from the child.

“Dhampir VB 005, you've given us quite the runaround lately. We thought you had learned your lesson by now considering what my father did to you,” the tallest boy, who was obviously the leader of bunch, said. The dhampir unconsciously raised his hand to his throat, but said nothing. “We're going to teach you real good this time.”

The smallest hint of unrest showed in D's eyes as the three boys leveled their stake guns at their opponent's chest. At that distance, one well-aimed shot would mean instant death.

“My name's Daniel,” the boy suddenly said and then raised his head to meet the other boy at eye level. “I am not a number.”

“What's it matter?” the boy to the group's left said. “All you half-breed bastards are the same to us! We're gonna' take care of you right now, the same way we did your friend and her ma.”

Daniel jolted at exactly the same moment D's eyes flicked to the trio. His right hand clenched his sword tightly as both of Daniel's curled into fists.

“How could you?” the boy ground out. “What did Tae and her daughter ever do to you? How could you?”

Did the boys notice how Daniel's eyes had taken on a faint blood-red hue?

He took a step forward.

“D-Don't move!” the first boy said, his voice reaching an almost hysterical pitch. “Take another step and I'll shoot it, I swear!”

Daniel took another step forward as he said, “Do it. I dare you.”

Just as the boy was about to pull the trigger and carry through with his threat, a flash of light suddenly sliced through the barrel of the gun, rendering the weapon totally useless. Not knowing when it had happened, the boy found himself lifted effortlessly into the air by the front of his shirt and pinned against the nearest tree trunk. D had intervened, but it wasn't in his usual display of frozen calm. The cool exterior of the Hunter had cracked and fallen away, revealing white-hot rage that rarely had been seen before.

“Leave…now.” D's words came out as just a hiss. “You've taken both a sibling and a friend away, the former of which who wasn't even four.” The boy was paralyzed by fear from both the Hunter's words and the sight of a pair of fangs poking through the corners of his lips. “Now you're trying to take away a son as well. How much more pain and hatred do you think we need?” He released the boy who fell to the ground in a heap. “Leave this place. If we meet again, I'll send you straight to Hell where you belong. Now go!”

The three boys scrambled to be the first ones to leave the Hunter's line of sight, stumbling over each other in their haste.

“Nice going, D,” the voice from D's palm said, snickering. “Not only did you to scare the shit out of those punks, you managed to drive off your son as well.”

D turned around. In the heat of the Hunter's tirade, the boy had run off somewhere, and was now nowhere to be found.

Red. That was all Daniel saw in the recesses of his mind as he ran through the thick forest at a feverish pace. He had to get away.

Daniel wasn't quite sure himself what had provoked the change in him, but one moment he was just letting the news of the death of Tae and her daughter sink into his mind, and then the next he just had the overwhelming urge to slaughter everything in his wake. The feeling wasn't new to him, but never had it pulled so strongly before. He kept his thirst well-hidden, but this was the first time he had almost carried through with it.

Blood, his brain screamed at him. Blood!

He couldn't hold it in anymore.

Skidding to a stop on his knees, causing the earth to scatter around him, Daniel clamped his jaws onto his wrist, relishing the feel of his fangs sinking into his near translucent flesh.

No, his heart screamed at him. No, this can't be happening! This isthe exact same thing that caused Mother's death! Don't do this! Let go!

His mind didn't listen, even though he knew that the false circulation of his own blood couldn't contain him for very long.

No, stop it! Don't give in to yourother side! Don't show what you are!

Tears slid down his face of their own accord.

Suddenly, even though his whole being raged against it, his wrist was sharply yanked out of his mouth, a long horizontal tear forming across it where he hadn't yet let go.

“No!” he screamed, trying to free his wrist from his captor's grip. “No, please! What have I done? What kind of monster have I become? Please—“ A cold hand clamped over Daniel's mouth, abruptly cutting off his incessant protests.

“Daniel, listen to me,” an expressionless voice said, which, even through his muddled and hysteria-ridden senses, Daniel recognized as his father's.

A muffled scream of agony fell from the mouth beneath the Hunter's hand before the boy sharply sank his teeth into D's finger. Even as he felt the strong pull of the boy sucking his blood in a desperate way, D didn't move.

“Daniel,” he said again, the voice coming forth from his lips now frostily-cold. It carried a tone that, while not rough, pierced the depths of the young dhampir's mind, causing him to momentarily stop his feeding due to sheer terror. “In order for me to help you, you need to let go of my finger first.” Veiled beneath the seemingly sounding request, the order was clear and warned the boy that the word “no” would not be taken for an answer.

As soon as his hand was free, D nonchalantly raised his injured finger to his lips and deftly stuck the finger in his mouth where it stayed for a few seconds before D reached into his saddlebags behind him and pulled out a small container of red pills. Unscrewing the cap, he shook two of the pills into his hand and extended them toward Daniel.

“Take these,” the Hunter said, snapping his fingers belonging to the hand that was proffered to the boy. To an outsider, the action might have been considered impatient and even rude, but what the Hunter was actually doing was just causing a vibration in the air so his son could “see” what and where the objects held in his hand were.

“What are they?” the boy asked quietly, holding his bloodied wrist.

“Blood pills,” D replied, his answer short and to the point. “These things aren't cheap nor are they easy to come by, so I expect you to take the whole of what I offer you. While they won't rid you of your bloodlust completely, they will take the edge off it.”

Tipping the two pills into the hand Daniel had silently outstretched, D watched as the young boy swallowed them with a pained grimace.

After a few moments, Daniel rasped: “Why?”

“Why what?” came the reply from the Hunter.

“Why was I born? Why am I here? Why am I this way?”

“Tough questions.” D paused for a moment before he continued, “You were born through reasons I have yet to understand myself, but it is a constant in this world that everyone is put on this earth with a purpose to fulfill; yours just hasn't come to light yet. That is all I can give you right now.”

“Then what is your purpose?” Daniel asked, obviously not satisfied with his father's answer. “Why were you put on this earth?”

“I do not know,” D said softly. Was that sadness in his voice? There was another pause before he said, “You hate me for passing on my cursed blood. You hate what you are.” It wasn't a question.

Consternation twisted the boy's features before he ordered, “Explain.”

“You will never know a normal life, Daniel,” D began, his voice barely audible, even without the wind. “While your mother didn't know this, my Noble heritage is not that of a typical dhampir's. Due to that, you will always stand out, no matter how hard you try to hide behind your human side. You will always be alone—that one in one hundred million.”

So you weren't expected… The thought, while not spoken, hung suspended in the air between the two, causing the air to become thick with tension which suddenly pulled taut and broke apart.

“That's your excuse?” Daniel said softly; the pent-up rage building behind his words was apparent. “Because you are that one dhampir in one hundred million, you are fated to be alone?” The boy snorted. “Don't make me laugh. You are only alone because you make it that way, distancing yourself from everyone due to the fear that you will eventually outlive them. Is that why you ran away?”

“Daniel…” D's voice, while seemingly unchanged, carried behind it a thinly-veiled threat, giving his son a warning that the conversation was going into uncharted waters. It was clear that he wanted the argument to go no further.

Daniel decided it was best he kept his mouth shut, but even with this action, the Hunter could tell the boy was still seething inside—waves of pure loathing radiating off of him.

Leaning his back against the base of the nearest tree, D slowly closed his eyes, ready to head off for the night. In the depths of his mind, his son's voice could be heard to say: “Maybe it is we who are the transient guests…”

Author's Note: Yes, so here is the re-written version of what was originally entitled “Overcoming the Curse”.I'd really appreciate getting some feedback on D's characterization, as his character is largely based off of the novels. I was also trying to achieve a Hideyuki Kikuchi writing style, but I'm not quite sure I pulled it off. As always, please realize this still has typos as my beta-reader hasn't gotten around to proofing it yet.