Hiya. Chapter 1 is finally solid and I"m going to send it to you in this email, because I don't know if you can access it in microsoft word document form. I would be very honored to have it on your site, as it is a god among web sites. Chapter 2 is written, but not completley stable. If something is wrong with the way I'm sending it to you, or you find consistency errors in my story should you read it, please let me know and I will change them. I want it to be accurate. Thank you for your time, I know you have precious little of it. -Scott Castlevania: The Forgotten Legend By: Scott Strichart Chapter I A Secret Well Kept August 3rd 1991, Federal Bureau of Investigations Building of Southern California, 7:30 AM The door to the briefing room swung open with force, and all the talking amongst the men seated on the benches came to an abrupt halt. Their eyes shifted to the man who strode in, and they couldn't help but look at him without some sort of hidden admiration deep within them. He was well built, with short blond hair that was combed back. He was dressed in full uniform, and he wore it proudly. The man's blue eyes scanned the room, and the men before him, and he smirked as all he saw the anticipation in their faces, awaiting their orders. The room was crammed with about fiftey men, each of them in identical uniforms, suited for combat. Bullet proof vests and helmets, and ammo belts strapped all around them. The man chuckled as he took the podium. "Hello men, I'll be you're presiding officer for this mission. My name is Eric Belmont, but that will be Captain Belmont to any rookies in the room. Which might I ask, how many rookies are there in this room?" Two men raised their hands and Belmont offered them a wide grin. "I'm sorry boys, but this one's not exactly a rookie's mission. If you value you're life and your family, me, nor the men here will have any regrets if you stand up and walk out right now." One of the men shook his head. "I've heard you're one of the best Captain Belmont, I wouldn't want my first mission to be under any other man." Belmont shook his head darkly. "Alright, good luck to you both." He averted his eyes from the two men, and he felt his heart jump. He was going to be responsible whether or not them, as well as every other man in this room lived or died. But it was all part of the job. And as he looked at all the blank faces, he realized that they had no idea what a great favor to humanity they were doing. Their lives could save that of thousands. Even the world. "Alright boys, you're going to need a little background information first. In less than 24 hours we're going to be infiltrating the main building of Shaft Industries. As you all know, Shaft is a multi-million dollar company, in more than 9 major world nations. But the higher ups of the company aren't you're normal businessmen. I've been in charge of tracking more than 200 company officials for the last 8 years. All of those men use the company as a front. They're actually part of a cult that worships some dark god. The cult has been in documented history for about a century now, but it is probably even older than that. What crime is it to worship darkness you might ask? None. But we've got enough other illegal activities on all of these men to put them behind bars for life. And in the process, we wipe out a century of evil." Belmont paused to examine the faces of his men. "Everyone got that?" The entire room responded in a unison "yes." "Good. Because there's more." He grinned. "The company is owned by a man named Roland Shaft. He is also the leader of the cult. Two months ago, a book was stolen from the Vlad Tepes Museum in Transylvania Hungary, a museum frequented by tourists and gothics around the world who crave knowledge on the history of Dracula. The book was called..." A man in the center of the room interrupted with a snide laugh. "Dracula? Look captain, no disrespect, but we're the FBI. We don't chase religious fanatics or silly vampire myths. We bust smugglers, racketeers, murderers…the like. I don't know about the rest of the boys here, but I've got better things to be putting my life on the line for." Belmont's face hardened and he stared directly into the man's eyes. His voice became emotionless, putting worry into the faces of all the other men in the room. This man was obviously quite seasoned. "Look here mister "I'm above this", what's your name?" The man replied, trying to appear confident as possible. "Rodgers. David Rodgers." "Alright Rodgers," Belmont responded just as darkly, "I just told you I've been tracking these bastards for 8 years. You want smuggling, you want murder, this is it right here pal. And a whole hell-of-a-lot worse if that book isn't recovered. You're doing mankind a great favor. What that favor is, you'll never find out. But I'll know. And I will thank you for it later. Now can I continue?" The man was humbled. "Yes sir." He sighed. Belmont nodded firmly. "Good. Now. The book that's been stolen is called Elizabeth Bartley's spell book. Its importance is confidential, but I will tell you this. That book must be given to me at all costs. I repeat. All costs. Alright, I'm going to get into what exactly you men are doing." He reached up and pulled down a map of a building. "This building is located in Chicago. It is the corporate office of Shaft Industries. And at five o'clock today, all of the corporate heads will be in a meeting. All 200 of them. We're going in incognito, parachuting from the plane, to the roof, and then swinging through the windows. We will place all of them under arrest. Do not kill them or any of the other innocent employees unless they pull weapons or attempt to escape. And remember, there are 50 of us, 200 of them. Fortunately, we have surprise working on our side. The book is somewhere in the building. Find it when all threats have been taken care of. I will be with all of you the entire time. We board the plane in twenty minutes since we'll be losing 3 hours getting there. Get your guns, your vests, everything you're going to need. Move out." All of the men stood up at the same time and the talking started up again, as it had before Belmont had entered the building. Belmont walked out of the briefing room and down several halls, and then outside the building. He couldn't help but shake his head again, thinking back to Rodgers. If only he knew. He proceeded around the building to where the plane awaited, and he watched all of his men file onto the plane. He waited a moment before he boarded, and removed a small picture from his breast pocket, where the name "Belmont" was embroidered. The picture was taken of him, his wife, and his son several months ago. "Wish me luck Sara and Jason." And with that, he pocketed the picture and hopped onto the plane. Somewhere over New Mexico, 1:00 PM Most of the men used the time on the plane to get the sleep they were going to be in need of very soon. Belmont sat in the seat of the co-pilot, anxiously planning out his strategy in his mind. Some men read while others talked casually. The one man who seemed to have nothing to do was Rodgers. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and made his way to the back of the plane, and into the lavatory. He looked around nervously, and then removed a cellular phone from his waist. He dialed several numbers, and it rang twice, before there came a dark, menacing voice on the other end. "This is Shaft." He spoke as hushed as possible. "Roland…It's Edgar. We're on our way to Chicago now. The plan is to infiltrate the meeting through the windows, and arrest the members, and then find the book. What should I expect?" Shaft laughed. "Don't worry about that Edgar. Just make sure you exit the room quickly and meet me in my 41st floor office in about twenty minutes." And the line went dead. Edgar slammed the phone back into its holster with a loud curse. He regained his composure, and flushed the toilet just to avoid being suspicious. He exited the lavatory and took his seat. The man next to him grinned. "Heard you cursing in there buddy. Something not go right?" He laughed, as did all the men around them. Edgar looked at him passively. "Shut up asshole, you'll get what's coming to you soon…" The other man raised his eyebrows at the offensive comment and shrugged. "Damn, I guess so." Chicago, Above Shaft Industries, 5:15 PM All of the men stood in line, their machine guns held in both hands, as the wind flew in their faces through the open airplane door. Belmont headed the line, now dressed completely in combat garb. He had to yell over the wind. "When I go, you follow! Aim for the roof, and as soon as you touch base, secure your line! Do not enter the building until the last man had landed and his line is secure! Go!" And with that Belmont plunged out of the plane, his parachute opening almost immediately. Each man touched down safely and each man secured their line with utmost efficiency. There was tension in all of their hearts, but all of them knew that the tension it caused was why they had joined the FBI. It was quite an adventure. But a different kind of tension raced through the heart of Eric Belmont. This would make or break the end of countless centuries of evil, and only he would know the wiser. With the same amount of skill and precision, each man swung on their lines off the roof and through the windows. Glass shattered all around them, making tremendous noise, and they only contributed to that as they let out a great roar running into the room. But something was wrong. It was a huge room, though it only had a stage where a single, simple wooden podium stood, and the podium addressed some two hundred empty chairs. There were only two doors, one behind the podium, and one opposite that one, clear on the other side of the room. The men had come in through windows that were on all sides of the room, glancing around nervously. Belmont cursed loudly. "They're not here!" He threw his gun to the ground, and he kicked over the podium he stood next to. "How the hell did this happen!?" The other men watched him and shook their heads, knowing it wasn't his fault. He began to rationalize in his mind. "Someone has betrayed me. An undercover man? Or one of these?" He didn't know. "Alright men. We need to…." He cut himself off as he noticed it. Beneath the podium he had kicked over was a small red digital clock with several wires and a box attached to it, rapidly counting down the seconds. His stomach jumped into his chest as he realized what it was. "Get out of the room! NOW!" The people on the crowded streets of Chicago beneath the building screamed and took cover as a huge explosion echoed through the sky, and flames shot out of the highest windows of the Shaft Building. Small debris rained down from the sky, and the people could only stare up into oblivion, and wonder. Belmont leaped out of the door behind the podium as he heard the clock make a high pitched ringing noise, signaling the end of the countdown. Simultaneously, fire shot from the box and engulfed the room almost instantly. He felt the heat against his back as he dived, and the flames bursted through the door. He ran for his life to the corner of the adjacent room, escaping the tumbling walls. And somehow…he lived. After a few seconds he stood up, looking back into the great room where the decimated bodies of all his men lie. He yelled in frustration as tears welled in his eyes. In blind rage, he discarded all his armor and gear, and withdrew his pistol from his belt, and started running through the building. Shaft had known they were coming. But they hadn't counted on anyone surviving. He had to find that book, or Shaft. He ran through the hallways of the great building, pushing past all the frightened employees, who were desperately trying to escape the building. Shaft was somewhere. He raced down countless fights of stairs, and he stopped, suddenly realizing that looking for Shaft in this chaos was like looking for a needle in a haystack. He cursed again, as he started running. But then he got his break. Amidst the confusion, one man seemed cool and collected. And he was also going against the flow of those exiting. Belmont turned and started following the man as more masses of people raced by him. He was starting to lose him. "He raised his pistol into the air and yelled out over the frightened screams of the people. "Don't move!!" Somehow the man heard him, and began to run. This only made Belmont pursue him faster. The man continued up several fights of stairs before darting into an office door. The office was small, with only a cluttered work desk and a chair behind it. In that chair sat a man with black hair, slicked back into a ponytail. He was dressed well, with black slacks and a dress shirt, over which he had draped over him a light, black, trenchcoat. The man burst into the room, completely out of breath, and placed a large old book onto the desk carefully, and backed up. He stared at the cool complacent man behind the desk a moment before he spoke. "Shaft! We didn't get them all, I'm being followed!" Shaft shook his head chuckled at the man. "I didn't think we'd get them all. I knew a certain one would survive. And thank you for bringing me the book, and for leading him to me. However, I'm done with you now. Thank you for serving James." Without even a facial expression, Shaft stood up, revealing the pistol in his hand. The man only got to mouth the word "no" as he fell to the ground, shot. And not a moment after that, Belmont kicked the door off it's hinges, and jumped into the room, his gun pointing directly at Shaft. "Freeze Shaft!" Both men revolved in circles around each other for a moment, their guns pointed directly at each other's heads. "Agent Eric Belmont." Shaft smiled deviously, as he stopped walking, though remained with the gun at his head. "I assume you've come for the book lying on that desk over there." "That…Or to watch you die." Belmont replied as his lips curled up into a sneer out of anger. Shaft laughed very darkly. "It's funny isn't it Belmont? Neither of us really knows what's going to happen in seven more years. All we both know is that our family destinies have brought us to this very moment. Both of us are led here by a silly legend. But is it actually a silly legend, Belmont? Can that old book of foolish witchcraft and necromancy actually bring Dracula, the prince of darkness into this world?" Belmont gritted his teeth as he spoke. "I don't know Shaft. But if I have anything to say about it, it won't." This made Shaft laugh even harder, though his gun stayed amazingly straight. "My, that's funny Belmont. Because after you're gone, there's no one to stop me!" Eric Belmont's eyes widened as he turned around to see David Rodgers standing there with a satanic grin on his face, and a gun in his hand. And that was the last vision he would ever have.