eiahmon | Blood Is Chapter 5

Title: Blood Is
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Do I really have to mention that I don't own Castlevania? If I did, we would have gotten to see Julius curbstomp Dracula, the storyline would have been neatened up a bit, and Dracula and Alucard would have just HUGGED already after the reveal in Lords of Shadow 2.
Summary: Lords of Shadow Continuity: AU to Mirror of Fate and Lords of Shadow 2: Trevor wasn't the only one that had the truth of his parentage kept from him by the Brotherhood.

Something was touching his face.

Something wet and sticky.

Gabriel jerked awake and pushed himself away from the wall that he had been leaning against. Blood was running down the crumbling stone, and he could feel it already beginning to dry on his face and hair.

Drink, Gabriel.

"No!" He turned his head to the right to see the wall on that side also covered in blood. The sharp, tangy scent filled his nose, and his veins burned with fire as his thirst screamed to be sated. Something dripped onto his hair, and he looked up as rivulets of blood began to run down from the ceiling and the collapsed wall behind him. Within seconds, the walls were hidden behind a curtain of blood that ran to the floor and oozed towards him.

You will not leave us.

Gabriel scrambled to his feet as the red tide covered the floor and slopped over the tops of his boots. It ran down in a small stream to the floor below and began to inch its way up his legs, like some kind of climbing vine.

He kicked out, splattering it against the walls, but as soon as he put his foot down, it began to climb up his leg again. He spun around towards his only exit, and he stumbled as he moved towards it. The floor was several feet below him, far enough that he would have injured his legs or feet if he had made the jump while human. A sizable puddle was forming on it as the blood streamed from the alcove, and Gabriel looked behind him to see his hiding space being consumed.

He jumped, and he tumbled down onto his hands and knees when he landed. Blood splashed onto his face, and he found himself licking it off before he could think. He shook his head and wiped it away before he could drink anymore of it and pushed himself to his feet. His legs shook under his weight, and his body felt almost too heavy to move as he staggered away from the area.

No, my lord!

"I will not..." he mumbled. "I won't drink. I won't."

We will find you.

There is no place here that you can hide from us.

"Leave me alone!"

You are weak.

You need us.

We will take care of you.

"I don't want you!"

A hand touched his shoulder, and he yanked himself away from it, but the sudden movement sent the room spinning, and he stumbled and fell. Blood drops from his hair and ragged clothing were sent scattering across the floor as he collapsed onto his side.

He stared at the patterned floor as he laid there. It seemed too much to get up again. Was this what starving to death felt like?

Blood burbled up through a tiny crack in the floor by his face, like a miniature red fountain and began to trickle towards him.

You mustn't die.

Gabriel heaved a sigh and pushed himself upright with shaking arms.

"I don't want any." he said quietly. "Please leave me in peace."

You are too young to be going without.

"I don't care." he said as he pushed himself to his feet. "Leave me be." He shuffled away from the spot, and he thought he could hear the blood oozing after him, but he did not turn back to look.

You will drink whether you want it or not!

Blood dripped down onto his hair, and a quick look around the room saw it running down the walls and pouring from the ceiling. Like the alcove that he had just fled from, the room was soon covered with the sticky red liquid, and the air filled with its metallic scent. He froze in place for a moment -

I'm so thirsty.

I don't want to drink.

I feel so weak.

I want to die!

If I drink, I will stop hurting so much.

Then I will never be free of this existence!

- before he shook his head free of those thoughts and moved towards where he had seen the door. Even it was covered in a sheen of red, and he realized that he would have to walk through it to get out.

Where do you think you're going?

He should run, he thought, he should run as fast as he could away from here, but he was barely able to drag himself across the slippery floor. If he fell... He ducked his head and closed his eyes as he walked under the waterfall of blood and through the door -

You belong to me.

- and he realized too late that there was no floor on the other side as he stepped through. His left foot only met open air, and his eyes flew open in time to see that the room he had walked into was filled by a virtual lake of blood. He had just enough time to cry out in horror before he fell face forward into it.

He sank like a stone as blood soaked into his hair and clothing, filled his boots, and began to drag him down. He thrashed weakly, desperate to surface as invisible fingers tried to pry his mouth open.

Drink!

He foot connected against something solid behind him, and he struggled around and reached out to touch it. His fingers scrabbled for purchase found a gap that he could grab onto and use to pull himself up. He gasped as his head broke the surface and blood ran off his hair and skin as he rested for a moment. He wiped at his eyes as best as he could and looked up to see that the door he had come through was blocked off by a bloody river that poured through it into the small lake he was in. He looked over his shoulder at the opposite end and saw a second river pouring out of the doorway on the other side. A quick look to the left showed him that the floor had collapsed, leaving little fragments of stone jutting from the walls. It would be slow, but he didn't want to risk swimming across. He wasn't even sure if he could.

He reached out with his left arm, and grabbed a hold of the ledge and used it to pull himself over. Even with the thick, viscous blood to buoy him, his arm still shook as he pulled himself across, and he was suddenly grateful for his claws as he used them to dig into the stone and hold on tighter. He paused for a second to take a little rest, and then, after making sure that his right hand had a good grip on the ledge, he reached out with his other hand for the next one.

You will not leave! I will not allow it!

He pulled himself over as blood drops began to patter down onto his hands, but he didn't look up. He already knew what the castle was doing. Instead he reached for the next ledge and pulled himself forward. He grabbed it with his left hand, but then his right one slipped, submerging him once more.

I will have you!

Gabriel dragged himself back up to the surface, pushed his blood soaked hair back from his face, wiped at his eyes, and grabbed the ledge with both hands. He then reached out for the next one. He was so thirsty...

No! Don't think about that! he told himself firmly. You have to get out of here!

As he reached for the next ledge, blood ran down the wall in front of him, and he realized that the level was rising. He quick look over his left shoulder showed him barely halfway around the room; he would not make it in time at his current speed. The blood was already to the bottom of the ledge that he was clinging to. He reached out for the next one, trying to move faster, as much as his failing strength would allow.

No...

He pulled himself across and reached for the next one, noting that the blood was now nearly halfway up. He didn't stop to worry, he simply reached over to his left, grabbed a hold of the remains of the floor and pulled himself over.

No...

The blood was nearly to the top; soon he would have to start swimming if he wanted to make it to the door. He dragged himself over to the next ledge. He was now just over halfway across.

No!

The blood reached the top and flowed over his hand holds, but he ignored that and reached for the next one. He had to reach the doorway. He dragged himself over to the next little piece of jutting stone, and then reached out for the next one.

But there was nothing there.

He stretched his arm out as far as he could and felt with grasping fingers for his means of escape, but all he felt was blood. He looked around for another way over, but there was nothing. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and then swam to where he hoped to find it, extending his right arm while keeping the claws of his right hand dug into the stone.

There!

His fingertips lightly brushed against jagged stone, and he realized what he would have to do to reach it. He pulled himself back to the right as the blood in the room continued to rise. He looked at where he believed the ledge to be, squeezed his eyes shut, and then used both arms to push himself away from his position with everything he could muster. He came partially out of the blood as he threw himself over, and he reached out with both hands as he splashed back down. He went under, and he clamped his mouth shut as he felt around in a frantic search for something to grab onto.

You will never get away from me.

His claws raked across stone then, and he pushed himself towards it and grabbed on. His head broke the surface, and he paused only long enough to clear his eyes before he moved on. Now the blood was up to his neck, and he had to keep his arms extended to keep his head above it. He reached out for the next ledge and pulled himself over. He tilted his head back as the blood continued it's steady rise, and he risked taking a look to see how much further he had to go. He managed a crazed smile when he saw that he was almost there, and he reached for the next ledge as the blood lapped against the underside of his chin.

He reached for the next ledge, but the blood was too deep, and he could not reach it while keeping his head up. There was no other option; he clamped his mouth shut again and went under, allowing his body to float to lessen the strain on himself. He ignored the fingers and hands that tried to grab a hold of him and pulled himself forward, towards his only escape. He didn't know how deep the blood was, so he focused on finding the next ledge and getting closer to the door, grateful that he didn't need to surface for air. After a few minutes, he felt something tugging on him, but it wasn't trying to pull him down. Instead it was pulling him towards the direction of the door, and when he reached out and felt a current, he let go of the ledge and pushed himself towards it.

No!

Gabriel felt himself swept up in the current and sucked out the door. He surfaced as he was dragged out of the room and down a flight of steps. He slid down them and skittered across the slippery floor at the bottom for a good distance before he came to a stop. He staggered to his feet, slipping and sliding but managing to keep his balance, and began to move away from the blood floor. He quickly exited the room, but the smell of the blood did not leave him, and his thirst burned stronger than ever. Blood streamed from his clothes and hair, and the scent filled his nose, which made his fangs ache with need. He reached up and tried to wipe the blood off his hair, which sent droplets flying, but he was soaked in it. He wiped at his hair again, this time using both hands, but the hated scent did not fade any. He swiped his hands over his hair, faster, as he tried to get rid of it, but a new problem presented itself.

His clothing was also drenched in blood, and he ran his hands down it, but the red liquid had soaked into the material and couldn't be brushed away. It dripped to the floor and ran in thin rivulets down his arms and legs.

"No," he moaned as his body ached with a desperate need for blood. His fangs ached, and his body burned with fire, and he reached down to his leather armor and began to pull it off without thinking about it. He held it in his hand for a moment as his body locked up. He could see the individual drops as they ran down, and his body shook with thirst as he slowly raised it to his mouth...

"No!" he snarled as he threw it to the floor. "I will not drink!" He ripped off the tattered remains of his shirt and tossed it down to go with his armor. Next came his gloves, followed quickly by his boots, trousers, and underclothes, which left him naked and shaking in the middle of the floor. He looked down at his bloodied clothing for a moment as his eyes traced the outline of the blood stains, before he forced himself to walk away. He ripped down a tapestry as he walked towards the door and wrapped himself in it. It didn't do anything to lessen his shaking, but it helped with the ever present chill in the castle. He walked through the door and shut it behind him, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the smell of blood faded. He shuffled away then on legs that trembled under his weight and tried to ignore the voices as they followed him.

I will find you, wherever you go.

******

Four days, Wolfram thought. It had been four days.

Four days since they had visited the Brotherhood compound. Four days since they had seen the small child that was likely their grandson. Four days since they had learned that Gabriel Belmont lived still, despite the Cardinal's words to the contrary. Four days since they had set out to find him.

They were still four more days away from Bernhard Castle, he thought as he stared into the darkness of he and Edeline's room at the inn that they were staying at. Edeline was sleeping soundly in the bed, but he had found himself unable to sleep, so he had moved to the room's only chair to think.

More like brood, he admitted with a rueful smile. His thoughts had been chasing themselves in circles for hours while going absolutely nowhere.

Why had the Cardinal lied to them about Gabriel? Why had Gabriel gone to Bernhard Castle? Why had the stable hand stated that they didn't have much time left? Was the Cardinal worried about them finding out the truth? Did Gabriel feel the need to shelter in such a horrid place? Was he injured in some way? Was he ill?

So many questions, but no answers were in sight. He sighed as he leaned back to look up at the shadowed ceiling. There was something going on here, something more than the Brotherhood trying to hide their kidnapping of the heir to a noble family. What were they hiding?

He closed his eyes and laid out the facts as he knew them:

The Brotherhood had stolen Gabriel/Mathias from his cradle and had evidently raised him as one of their own. They apparently also told him that his family had not wanted him.

Something horrible had happened the previous fall. Wolfram had heard talk of the Lords of Shadow causing more trouble that usual, but he hadn't heard anything concrete about that yet.

Whatever it was, Gabriel had put a stop to it, battling Satan in the process.

At some point, Trevor Belmont had come into the custody of the Brotherhood, and knowing what he did, Wolfram doubted more and more each passing day that Gabriel had willingly left his son with them. Something about the entire thing seemed off to him.

For whatever reason, instead of returning to his home and his son, Gabriel had gone to Bernhard Castle. Why would he not want to return to the child his wife had bore him? Had the battles left him disabled, disfigured, or ill?

Then, the Cardinal flat out lied about his survival for some reason. Wolfram had no doubt that the stable hand had been speaking the truth. Something about him made him trust the young man's word. No, despite what the Cardinal said, Gabriel was alive and at Bernhard Castle, and he and Edeline were going to find him and bring him home. Then they would be able to prove that he was their son, and they would be able to get Trevor as well. It would all work out.

At least, he hoped it would.

He knew that, unless Gabriel strongly resembled either him or Edeline, there was no way to prove that he was their son. And even a resemblance might not be enough. It was said that everyone had their twin after all. Unless Gabriel claimed Trevor as his and sought custody, they would have a hard time getting the child away from the Brotherhood. They could always blackmail the Cardinal by stating that they wouldn't say anything about Mathias' kidnapping if they handed the boy over, but it was a risky gamble. All the Cardinal would have to do was announce that they were trying to take a hero's son, and it could easily blow up in their faces. After all there was no real proof that the Brotherhood had stolen their son to being with. Twenty-five year old eye witness accounts did not count as proof.

What if they did find Gabriel? What then? They hadn't seen their son since he was four days old, and there was no way to know what kind of man he had grown into and thus no way to predict how he would react to meeting them. After being told as a child that his parents had not wanted him and had left him on a doorstep, he might respond to them with anger. Wolfram certainly believed that he would react in such a way if he was in Gabriel's position. They would have to find a way to make him listen, to let them explain, but even then, he might not believe them.

And if only if he's fit to listen to them at all. Wolfram knew of the dark reputation that Bernhard Castle held, of the rumors that surrounded it. The Lord only knew what could have driven Gabriel to that place after his battles were done. He had heard that the Lord of Shadow that had once lived there was no more, destroyed by Gabriel himself, but even that couldn't have convinced Wolfram to go near that place on any other day.

People whispered of the castle being possessed by a demon, and how its layout constantly changed, which made mapping it impossible. They spoke of a mad doctor that tortured innocents in the name of medicine, and how a fearsome creature bearing the guise of a woman, came to the castle, killed everyone inside, and took it for her own. From then on, the area was shrouded in perpetual winter, and during the cold nights, winged vampires flew from the castle to drink the blood of any unfortunate enough to be caught outside after dark.

If the vampire that had lived in the castle was gone, then that was one less thing to worry about, but with the castle already having a terrible reputation long before she came, it still wasn't a place that Wolfram had ever intended to visit. But Gabriel was there, for whatever reason, and they had to find him. Was he in danger from the dark elements inside the castle? Had he fled there to die in peace, knowing that no sane person would disturb him there?

Was he being held prisoner?

Wolfram shivered; he didn't want to think of that possibility.

"Wolfram?" came Edeline's sleepy voice from the bed. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing dear," he said with a sigh that revealed his lie. "Go back to sleep."

"Not until you're over here with me."

Giving it up, he stood up from the chair and went back to the bed. He felt Edeline's arm snake around him as he slipped under the covers next to her.

"I'm trying not to," she murmured, "but it's hard not to worry about him, isn't it?"

Wolfram nodded. "I know. I can't stop thinking of that terrible place and all of the reasons he could be there. And that's only the first part of it. When we find him and convince him to come back with us, what then? We have no proof that he's our son and hence no proof that Trevor is our grandson."

"We'll figure that out when we come to it. As you said the other day, Trevor is safe and being taken care of, so let's worry about Gabriel for now. Believe me, I've been doing plenty of that over the past few days."

Despite what they had ahead of them, Wolfram couldn't help but laugh. "So have I, my dear."

Edeline yawned. "Goodnight, Wolfram."

"Goodnight, darling."

He felt Edeline relax behind him, and a few minutes later, her quiet breathing told him that she was asleep. He longed to join her, but his still whirling thoughts wouldn't allow it, so he laid awake the rest of the night, worrying about their son.

Family: 4 -- Family: 6
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Blood Is Chapter 5

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