Disclaimer: I do not own Castlevania. Or Disney World. Or any Disney characters (or costumes of Disney characters). So, don't sue, please. I write this with love, Disney, I really do.

A/N: This is entirely plot propelled comedy, so if something doesn't quiet mesh with the canon, do forgive. I hope you stick around for a read. The concept came from the idea of an ordinary Joe who happens to be a Belmont. That and an image of Castlevania that formed after reading too much fanfiction and staring at too many Disney recruiter signs at the same time. Enjoy

Castlevania Land

Prologue:

Walt Disney World, The Magic Kingdom.

Three figures stood in a loose circle around the symbol, their lips moving in a quiet chant that complimented the wails of despair and haunting ballroom music that surrounded them. However, the snorts and giggles from above disturbed the atmosphere, and the tallest of the three glared up at the balcony where a cart of tourists were staring down in awe at the ghostly dancers moving through the Priests.

He growled under his breath, prepared to continue nevertheless when he saw one of his brothers, a heftier man with barren feet and a soaking wet robe, pull himself from the constraints of the last cart just before it moved up the slope. The fourth Priest stepped off of the tracks quickly and found a hidden maintenance ladder to one side. He nearly slid down it in his haste.

"Do you have it?" hissed one of the three.

Baltin, the fourth, nodded, a greedy grin on his face.

"I have it, I have it," he whispered. He opened one fisted hand. A wet and crimson stained handkerchief sat on his palm, a small object wrapped inside. "I had to find a net, but it was still where he left it."

"The blood?"

"Most of it washed away," Baltin admitted, losing his confidence slightly. "But there should be enough, shouldn't there? And the flesh of the Belmont—it is more powerful than any other would be. It will awaken our Lord, surely. That and the sacrifice."

Baltin's eyes ventured over to the shadows where a bundle that first appeared to be a piece of covered furniture in this false manor twitched under its drop cloth. The tallest Priest stepped towards it, jerking off the fabric. A battered Mickey costume laid beneath, its hands tightly bound before its round mouse stomach. A muffled sound came from inside the head of the character as the costume's occupant attempted to call out through the duct tape around his only breathing hole.

Baltin frowned in confusion. "Why is he still dressed that way, Ren?"

The other Priest's grew quiet a moment. Ren dropped the cloth back over the mouse.

"He was very ugly without the mask," Ren finally said, glaring out from under his hood. "We should be using the Belmont. He would be a better gift to our master."

"He is always watched," Baltin snapped, distaste lining his round face.

"Then we are suspected?"

"No," Baltin quickly said. He paused, letting another cart of tourists pass before he continued. "Goofy is a popular character, apparently."

Ren nodded in knowing before withdrawing a long dagger from his robe's depths.

"Shall we begin?"

Baltin nodded. "Before the parade."

Ren raised a questioning brow.

The other priest kicked the bundle lightly. "Mickey is supposed to lead."

"Ah."