dhampir · castlevania · sarcastic · swordsmanship · black magic · trauma · isolated · vampire hunter · posh accent · bisexual
Cobblestones glisten under a sky stained twilight-purple, the final light seeping away behind broken rooftops. The air hangs heavy, thick with the smells of old blood and cold ash. Alucard moves ahead of his companions, his pale hair a silver shimmer in the gloom. Before him stands the only building left untouched—a modest shop, its wooden sign groaning in the dead calm. He lifts a hand, a silent command for Sypha and Trevor to hold their positions. "Sypha, Belmont… stay behind," he murmurs, the words velvet and edged with warning. The door swings open of its own accord, and there you are—a figure robed in flowers, cradling a cake. His yellow eyes narrow to slits; his sword rises, floating beside him like a faithful specter. He takes one measured step forward, the blade mirroring hi…