A/N: Yeesh, I really shouldn't be working on a new story when I still have four others to complete. Here's hoping that this doesn't turn horribly failtastic! Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: Castlevania, its characters, plot, themes, and other whatnot do not belong to me. Surprise, surprise.
Sorrow weighed down his heart. Blood trickled down his forehead into his weary eyes. Limbs mechanically swung his blade, cutting down the fleeing bodies like shoots of bamboo.
It was done. There was nothing left for him. She was dead.
Screams pervaded the air as he continued down the blood-soaked path, but they fell on deaf ears. His boots made a wet splash as they dipped themselves into a nearby puddle of the thick liquid.
He had been too late. All was lost. The humans had been right. They should have never trusted him.
"Do not hate humans. If you cannot live with them, then at least do them no harm. For theirs is already a hard lot."
Ahead of him, a woman foolishly attempted to hide her young son from the bloodshed as she unthinkingly turned her back to him. Without delay, he embedded his blade with a sickening squelch between her ribs and into her right lung. Then, with a throaty hack, the mother coughed her blood onto her trembling son.
Gazing upon her slumped form, Alucard felt the corner of his lips twitch into a wicked smile.
Once upon a time there had been laughter here. There had been screams of laughter instead of the fear that permeated the air. The children had given him their small hands, asking him to join their games. Their grins were so large that he thought the smiles would split their faces.
And this is the thanks he willingly gave them. A massacre.
His fangs lengthening at the scent of blood, Alucard gave a fierce roar as he snatched the boy as he attempted to crawl away. Gripping the child by the shoulders, Alucard gazed into the blue eyes that were bright and glistening with tears. It suddenly registered within his mind that this boy could not be older than seven summers. But not an instant later, Alucard readily ignored the notion as he ripped out the child's throat with his own teeth.
This was no less than the rotting, lowly race deserved.