Foreword: A little bit ago, I started to come around and saw many Castlevania fanfics, and figured 
'Heck, I can make one of those.' Let me say... it's not really that easy if you don't want to infringe 
on the story line that seems to keep changing. But here it is. Part one of what I call "Strange 
Bloodlines". Kinda sounds like a song from SotN, eh? But that's the best I could think of for now. I 
understand that some may think me weird for writing this... but ah well. Please tell me what ya 
think by sending email to Jarrad@starchat.net! Happy Reading!


Troubles from the Past
(Return of Evil)
By Jarrad Jalbert


     "The Legend of Dracula and the Belmont family is a story not for the weak of heart. It 
tells the story of a monster from beyond the grave and beyond time. A monster who made 
others into monsters, and into monsters like him. He sucked the blood and life from us 
humans, leaving us weak-willed, unwilling to live, and at his mercy. He thought of us as 
his animals! He looked to use only for our blood and vitality!
     "But not all was lost. The Belmont Clan had protected us for many years, not taking 
their earlier exile to heart. The first time Dracula appeared in the fifteenth century, Sonia 
Belmont stepped forward to fight, and she won. Seeing the true strength of the Belmont 
Clan, we overreacted and exiled them. However, years later, and much to our surprise, we 
found that some men and women were practicing black magic. Whether or not these 
people were from our village, we don't know even to this day. But somehow they 
succeeded. . . . We were desperate for help and dreadfully regreted exiling the Belmont 
Clan. But by this time, they were long gone. Except one. Trevor Belmont threw off his 
disguise of deception, and took his holy whip to do battle with Dracula. With the help of 
three 'spirit' friends, one Dracula's son himself, he succeeded and again Dracula was put to 
rest."
     The elder of the village stepped down from the stage, and another approached. In 
passing, the two exchanged sad looks and eyes the high tomb stone erected in front of the 
state. The tombstone read:

Starleigh Aimee Belmont
Born 1806 and Died 1827
'Destroyed the Count Dracula,
Prince of Evil.'

     "Next time Dracula appeared, a new Belmont was ready.Simon Belmont, one of the 
most well known figures in our history. On Simon's wedding day, Dracula was revived and 
kidnapped his new bride. No one really knows why, but some believe it was the Count's 
anger at Trevor Belmont that drove him to do it.Without a wife, there could be no 
children. And without children. . . . the Count would win next time, even if Simon stopped 
him. Enraged, Simon invaded the Count's castle, and defeated him. But not all was well. 
Before their battle, it is said, Dracula placed a curse upon Simon. If the Count could not 
directly kill him, he would do it after death. We are not sure of the details. But the curse 
forced Simon to collect the Count's body parts and resurrect Dracula. . . . and then burn 
him before he himself died. And he succeeded. Dracula was once again defeated.
     "Christopher Belmont was the next in line of the hunters. Dracula was resurrected and 
kidnapped Soleiyu, Christopher's son. After chasing him down, Christopher and Dracula 
did battle, but, just before Christopher could destroy him, the Count ran. Regaining his 
son, Christopher chased after Dracula again, and this time really did defeat him.
     "After years passed, the Count was again resurrected by black magic. After almost 
getting the Belmonts the last time with kidnapping, the Count decided to try the method 
again. He kidnapped Annet and Maria Renard to lure Richter Belmont to his castle. 
Richter and Annet were engaged, so Richter took after after them without a second 
thought. With a deep rage burning through him, Richter displayed powers never before 
seen so strong in one Belmont before. With this awsome power, he destroyed Dracula. 
However, four years later, on a night with a full moon, Richter mysteriously disappeared.
     "Maria Renard, who helped Richter defeat Dracula the time before, was now older and 
as fearless as before. Even without the blood of a Belmont, she had the hot blood needed 
to be a vampire hunter. She set off to find the missing Richter, and found the Count's 
castle, which was supposed to only reappear every hundred years. With the determination 
to find Richter, she entered the castle fearlessly. Soon after, another castle appeared. This 
one from the skies. No one is sure what happened afterward, but after the two castles 
disappeared, Richter returned, and reported that Maria had run off, telling everyone that 
she had wanted to adventure for a while before she came back. Richter and his wife Annet 
lived until three years ago, when the plague claimed them both. It saddened us to bury 
them, especially under such unusual circumstances such as theirs. No one else died from 
plague. Only those two. But no one was as saddened as Starleigh, their only child. 
     "And now we must bury even her. Recently, as you all know, the Count was somehow 
again resurrected, but she destroyed him, hopefully this time for real. Little will the world 
know about her, who was even more powerful than her father. Let us pray for her." As the 
old man stepped down from the stage to join the group of villagers, he closed his eyes and 
thought to himself, I hope they never learn the truth. As he peered at the grave, he 
shuddered. 
     A low growl of thunder pervaded the peace, and the first misty drops of rain began to 
fall. Lightning flashed in the distance, still not anywhere close. Storms were common in 
this area this time of year. The villagers stayed, however. A storm wouldn't stop the 
funeral of a Belmont. Especially the last Belmont. Not ever married, nor with child, 
Starleigh was the last. And if Dracula returned someday. . . . who would stop him?
     The town's priest, dressed in his black robes and Bible in hand, stepped forward and 
faced those gathered and raised his face to the sky, rain pelting his flesh. "Lord, who art in 
Heaven, we are gathered here on this day of July eighteenth, in the year eighteen-hundred 
and twenty-seven, to mourn the premature passing of Starleigh Aimee Belmont, daughter 
of Richter and Annet Belmont. She had no children nor husband, but left us all our 
children. No longer will we be plagued by the evil hand of the Count Dracula."
     Father Jonas, the priest, stopped as the crowd parted way for a heavily cloaked figure. 
Only by the smiling full lips and small fine nose could it be told that it was a woman. 
Everything else, even hands, were covered. Draping hoods from the cloaks covered her 
eyes and hair, yet she moved as if she had full sight. As she walked past the villagers, they 
started to mutter to each other about the coldness that came with her passing. 
     When she stopped and looked upon the grave, the muttering stopped and the priest 
stepped forward. "What are you doing here? You are ruining the funeral of a Belmont! 
Only village members are allowed to witness it!"
     The stranger woman made no indication that she would leave. "A funeral is not 
necessary, human." She spoke with a husky voice, one that echoed unsaid things. Things 
of darkness, of places where no humans dwell sanely.
     Suddenly appearing fearful, the priest's hand clenched tightly around the crusifix in his 
hand. "Of course it is necessary!" he shouted in a voice louder than he had intended it to 
be. And his trembling came out in his voice too. "She died in honor, defending us all from 
the death-grip of Count Dracula!" The muttering of the villagers behind the woman 
supported his statement, several shouting out their agreement.
     The stranger raised her head at the priest, and her small smile grew in size. Then she 
laughed. A musical laugh at first, then changing to that of one that was mad, or in the 
Count's legions. A laugh so terrible to the folk that they went silent and fell back, women 
clutching children to their legs or chests, and the men sliding in front of their wives. The 
elders whispered in their small group of five, watching. The priests reaction surprised the 
villagers, however. He lifted the crusifix to the sky, allowing the rain to pelt it and him, 
and began to shout words of excorcism. 
     With the slowing down of the laughter, the woman dropped her head and brought her 
hands up to the layers of hoods. With a sharp tug, she pulled them down, and allowed the 
loose cloaks to fall around where she stood. The gasp from the priest grabbed even the 
attention of the elders, who fell silent upon hearing it. They did not see the woman's face. 
Not yet. Somehow hanging from the woman were bats, each hanging onto the one above 
it. At the sudden change of light, the bats awoke, and flew straight at the villagers. Chaos 
ensued, with the men waving hands to knock away bats, women clutching children even 
closer, and the elders using their canes and staves to attack. 
     The aftermath of the attack left everyone dumbfounded. A small child, about seven 
years old, and one of the village elders were found dead, their bodies trembling as if 
poison were in them. Only small wounds were found however. Everyone's attention was 
not on them however, except for the mother of the small child, who cried over him, but 
rather at the woman. She slowly raised her head, the small smirk on her face. It was a face 
everyone knew. And the clothes. . . . the clothes was the leather armor that the Belmont's 
had always worn to battle, slightly modified now, but there was no denying what it was. A 
black whip also rested in the hand of the brunette woman that stood before them. Starleigh 
Belmont. 
     She turned and looked at the two bodies, and raised her whipless hand. The bodies 
gave one final convulsive twitch before they stood up, much to everyone's amazement. 
The child's mother, overjoyed to see her son up again, mistakenly threw her arms around 
him. A terrible scream came from her, however, when the boy bit her shoulder, and ripped 
off both flesh and muscle. Before the boy could finish chewing on his food, the woman 
herself convulsed, and the eyes, once blue and full of love and life, lost all traces of 
humanity. She stood, and turned to the man not three feet behind her, and jumped on him, 
biting into his neck and ripping from it veins and flesh, not a single choke coming from 
him before he himself changed. A terrible chain reaction had begun.
     The priest let out a sob of horror, and woman all throughout the crowd fainted, their 
husbands and sons having to drag them away before the same terrible fate befell them too. 
"Zombies!" The priest yelled after he regained some of himself. "You turned them into 
zombies! What are you, woman? You are not our Belmont! She would never do this!"
     With a loss of her smile, Starleigh turned and narrowed her eyes at the priest. "Who is 
to say that I am not her? From the beginning of my life, not a single one of you cared for 
me! It was always my father and mother you cared for. Never me. H'oh, but now I have 
fallen in love." At saying this, a small smile came to her face. "I am alive. I am powerful. 
And soon all of you will be like those first four." Several screams and yells filled the air 
like the scream of the first woman. "See? The new age of my love has begun. And you, 
Father Jonas, will spread the word."
     Father Jonas began to back up, sweat and warm rain mixing on his face. He raised the 
crusifix again as he stopped and seem to gain some courage even as he saw the infections 
of the zombies spread to others spread throughout his town. "I will. . . . not do as you say! 
You have disgraced the Clan of Belmont, and I will not accept that! I will send you back 
to the Hell from whence you came! No longer will you terrorize—ah!" The holy symbol in 
his hand split in two, and fell to the ground at his feet. 
     "Are you quite done, Father? You will not defeat me that way. Or anyway for that 
matter. Rather, you will help me. You will." She looked to the shaking hand that once 
held the crusifix. "It looks like you're bleeding father."
     The injured priest brought his hand to his chest and slowly looked at it, hesitant to look 
away from the whip-wielding woman who stood not six feet away. Through the rain and 
with the help of the consistantly closer lightning, he stared at the gash from his thumb to 
the outer side of his hand. The rain mixed with the blood and fell onto the destroyed 
crusifix.
     "That wound will be your doom, if I so wish it Father. See those mindless creatures 
behind me? One wrong move and you will be one of them. Oh but it wouldn't be that easy 
for you. You would know what you are doing. It will repulse you. But you would not be 
able to control your actions. Now, will you do as I say?" The leather-clad woman reverted 
to a stance she was once known for: left hand on hop, right knee slightly bent, and hair 
pushed over her left shoulder and out of her face. 
     Numbed by fear, terror, and surprise, the injured Father Jonas could only nod dumbly. 
He stared straight ahead, the bleeding hand twitching from time to time on its own accord 
from time to time. "What. . . . would you have me do?"
     Turning her back on the priest and watching the fleeing survivors and zombies with a 
perverted pleasure, a laugh came to her throat. "You will go to town after town, speading 
the word of the Great Dracula's time being very near. Tell them if they come willingly, 
they may be spared from becoming one of. . . . them. " She waved her hand at the zombies 
chasing humans with still-limber bodies. "Got it?"
     "I. . . . do."
     "Good."
     As if to put a final mark of terror into the night, lightning from the storm came down 
and struck the high tombstone that began the whole thing.  The rain washed away the 
dust, and left the two drenched. With another laugh of perverse pleasure, Starleigh 
watched the remaining inhabitants change. Nothing will stop us now. . . . nothing.

					To be continued . . . .