Vampire Hunter D fanfic

Rating: M for blood and mature content

Summary: D experiences many firsts at the young age of sixteen. He wishes he hadn't.

Disclaimer: I don't own D. I wish I did. But, sadly, I don't.


'I can only imagine, boy, when you come of age…' His mother had said that to him, nearly daily, as long as he could remember. He'd never understood what she had meant, had never noticed the sad, bittersweet look in her dark eyes. She had always told him how handsome he was, just like his father.

He was indeed handsome. Very much so.

Unnaturally so.

He hadn't really noticed it yet, but somewhere, deep within him, he sensed it.

His mother was also very, very beautiful, and so really, he never thought much of it. Of course he'd be the lucky recipient of her genes.

Life on the Frontier for D had been exceptionally good. He went to a prestigious school, was well educated, even at the green age of sixteen. Every day, his mother made him lunch, kissed his forehead goodbye, and told him, incessantly, how much he reminded her of his father.His father, who he had no face for (except, he supposed, his own face), and worst of all, no name. His mother had never, ever told him, always said simply 'your father'…not even her husband, though until recently he had been too young, too innocent to notice. He had met him once, long, long ago, and then he had disappeared.

This day had started no differently. He had been sent to school - a wealthy, well-to-do finishing school within the heart of the Capital, where he'd lived for the last five years… He and his mother moved often to one large city after another. D fancied that someday, he'd like to live in the country, where it was quieter, but never said as much. Grimacing a little in feeble protest to her motherly doting, he'd started off on his own, perfectly capable- almost a man already, a small satchel of books slung over his already broad shoulders.

It wasn't until he had left school and began to return home that anything in his normal daily routine changed. Just outside the campus gates leaned a figure, lounging almost absently against a signpost. A young woman, a little older than D --he went by a different name back then, but that and many other aspects of his youth have disappeared into the abyss-- stood waiting, straightening up as he approached.

He remembered watching her lips move as she spoke his name, sauntering up to him. They'd spoken before, were familiar but not close enough that D had even thought of her as a friend. She matched his stride, began to follow him home.

Halfway there, she began calling him some rather embarrassing pet names, frequently reaching out, touching his wrist, or his shoulder as they walked. She was dressed…sparsely, walking in front of him, going backwards, and stooping slightly as she laughed at her own joke, showing off her cleavage.

D had been more astonished with her behavior than anything. He had never expressed any interest in the woman at all, and yet, by the time he'd reached his home block, she was draping herself all over him.

Despite his young age, this was not, by far, the first time that a girl…or older woman, had presented herself to D in this manner. He was infinitely grateful that he'd been sent to an all-boys' school, but still, girls from the neighboring school squealed at him from across the street, begging him to come say hello, or to join them for coffee, ice cream…lunch…

He remained aloof, though, and for the most part, they never tried much more than that, perhaps occasionally risking to send gifts, but never more.

It puzzled him - he wasn't that good looking…handsome, perhaps but not…

'Hey, did you hear me?'

He hadn't. He'd been caught with his eyes down her shirt.

Young yes. Dumb, no. He knew, without the actual words, what was being offered.

He never responded, simply stepped past her and unlocked the door to his house. It was empty, silent. His mother wouldn't be home for several more hours, she never was. Often, she disappeared until long after dark. It was dangerous, and he'd expressed his fears for her often, but she had always waved them away easily.

'Oh, I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me.'

Today he didn't worry.

Where the time went, how they got up to the second story of the little condo that he and his mother shared alone, where the girl's clothing went-- it was an invisible blur. D could remember being glad that his voice had dropped by then, that he could play the part of the man that he was being asked to.

It had been D's first time, but his partner was experienced, skilled. Sex brought no great revelation for D like he thought it might.

At least not immediately. He had heard from the other boys details about the building pressure, the rush, the sudden mindlessness, and so recognized it for what it was as he reached his peak. A burst of strength found him, and he flipped her off of him, pinning her beneath his own weight instead, earning a gasp of joy from the girl now beneath him. He grinned, didn't see her eyes widen in surprise and fear, as he increased his pace, head lowered as he nuzzled her chest, trailing first kisses, and then nips upwards.

He was close…so…so close…

Her gasps turned strained, but only sounded elated to his ringing ears. Something shifted, snapped within him, and he lunged in and down, his mind going white. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard screaming.

Warmth flooded into him in the wake of the explosion just below his navel. He shivered, another wave of pleasure rushing into him, and his thoughts ceased completely, dead to the world as he acted on pure instinct. He could smell her, rich and deep and coppery, springing forth like the sacred fountain of life. She was gasping weakly in his ears, begging, begging for something, but he didn't hear. Finely manicured fingers clawed viciously at his shoulders, but he felt no sting. In fact, the dark red lines carved into pale skin were only transcendent, disappearing as quickly as they were formed.

Her hands fell limply away from his shoulders.

He looked up, startled, the white haze fading away from him rather suddenly.

'Are you…oka--' He cut off, glancing down at the face beneath his.

He screamed.

D would never forget that scream. He never heard it. His ears had been ringing harder than anything he'd ever experienced, drowning out the sound completely. He felt it though-the throat ripping, guttural scream of a young boy who'd just accidentally killed a woman in the worst way possible. Droplets of her blood flew from his lips, spattering her face, the pillows behind her head, his sheets, and hands.

Horrified, dead, pale eyes stared up lifelessly at him, her skin so empty it was translucent like half-melted wax. At her throat, two swollen, red puncture wounds oozed a steady trail of blood, smeared where his lips had brushed her skin. Chunks of his own skin and blood were caught under her fingernails, but he had not noticed this yet.

He was still inside of her, but now leapt away from her body. Clamping both hands over his mouth, he could still feel them, his fangs receding reluctantly after the rush of tasting human blood for the first time. He ran, nude and smeared in blood and the various excrements of sex, into the bathroom, emptying his stomach. So sweet, yet vile, he had overdrawn his fill, and his stomach could not contain, especially in his extreme distress, what he had taken.

Washing the bile and the blood down the sink, D collapsed, breaking into sobs.

What am I…? What am I? I killed her. What am I? What am I what am I WHAT THE HELL AM I?!

Down stairs, his panicked mantra was broken by the sound of his mother returning.

A fresh wave of horror piled itself onto D's already near-broken mind, and, choking back sobs as he cried in terror, he rushed back to his room, determined to hide the body. What would his mother say, what would she…

'What happened to yo-- OH!'

He froze, halfway done wrapping the girls' body in his comforter, turned to see his mother standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

Oh no oh no oh no oh no OH NO! He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face, unable to bear it. What was he? What had he done? That was the kind of thing that the evil, horrible Nobility did…

He wondered vaguely, if his mother would kill him. He'd heard of it, children stolen by the Nobles, returned seemingly unscathed, until they began acting…unnatural…and were destroyed by their own parents.

I'll let her. I deserve it. I don't know what I am…but I'm a monster…

He was both surprised, and horrified, to feel his mother's arms around his shoulders suddenly.

'Oh baby…' Her voice was not angry, not even horrified. Just…sad. Infinitely forlorn, filled to the brim with regret. 'I'm so sorry…'

What? WHAT?!

'Mother--! What-?! I…I…' Couldn't bare to say it, had to steel himself against his own words. 'I killed her…! I--!' He couldn't help it, was ashamed, but was no less vulnerable to that anguished cry, or the tears that came with it.

'N-no…it's okay baby…I…I should have told you sooner…much, much sooner. I'm so sorry.'

He looked up at her then. Told him what?! What was she talking about?!

'I think it's time, honey, that you met your father.'


D woke up with a soft cry, barely audible, but already far more than he would have allowed, had he been able.

He hadn't thought about that day in a very, very long time. His first. His first woman, his first taste of blood, his first day as a damphir, and the first time he'd met his father.

He raised a gloved hand to his face, and frowned, pulling the soft leather away from his hand with his teeth. Touching bare fingers to his face, he discovered a faint wetness there, and sighed.

"Amazing, ain't it," a voice at his left hip commented sadly, "The way life kicks you in the ass."

"Shut up." His voice cracked, and he cringed. God, how he hated it when this happened…Though it hand…for several centuries. "Just…Shut up."

"It wasn't your fault, you know."


"Nobody could have guessed your true nature would show itse--"


Around him, the creatures of the night stirred and then scuttled off, startled by the violent outburst from the Hunter, waves of dangerous intent pouring off his dark figure like tidal waves.

D realized, in the prevailing silence that followed, that now he was just as alone as he had always felt he was. Tilting his head upwards, he glanced at the stars, sparkling dimly through the treetops overhead.

Sometimes, I miss you, mother…

But that, D realized, had been an infinite number of lifetimes ago.


AN: Just something that passed through my mind this evening… Please be kind on your reviews, this isn't even edited. I just spit it out.

Yes, my drabbles are 4 pages long… --.--

OMFG the ANGST! And blood. O.o It's melodramatic, I know, but I can actually imagine something like this happening… And yeah…I love D. I'm always wanting to write for him, after reading 5 of the 6 novels released in America/English (check 'em out if you haven't already…they're awful, but quite wonderful all the same. XD) , but he's damned hard. 5 books in, and I STILL know nothing about him. Except that he may or may not be the son of Dracula, and that he may be genetically enhanced (Ie, something of a test-tube baby).

That's it. XD

Sad, isn't it? And yet I'm still interested… O.o

To those of you who were expecting another chapter of my Naruto fanfic, BLIND, sorry. It'll be along on it's way, but I just needed to do this tonight, while it was in my head… Mako-Chan needed to drabble a little. XD

Lemmie know what you think! Review! (I'm a whore like that J )