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Prologue Part 1: Invitation to the Charm of Darkness
Aensland Cemetery
The Aensland family graveyard wasn’t very far from Castle Aensland itself. However, between Belial’s declining health and Morrigan’s general disinterest, the graves themselves had not been maintained for many years. In fact, the last time anyone had formally visited had been for Belial’s funeral. Between that and the constant tick fog swallowing the countless stone markers, it is no wonder why none who resided in the castle were aware of the boneyard’s most recent headstone: an upside down guitar. The guitar had a triangle base, with a Union Jack color scheme and the words “ROCK IS NOT DEAD” carved into it. While it was unclear when the guitar first showed up, if the coating of dirt and the raven perched comfortably atop it were anything to go by, the instrument had been stuck in the ground for quite some time.
Suddenly, however, the crow flew off in a hurry, as if sensing something dangerous approaching. A pair of loose tail feathers floated towards the ground, where upon impact a bony hand burst out from underneath the dirt and grabbed the neck of the guitar. Within moments, a ghoulish figure began to emerge, the guitar clutched in its fingers. The undead figure had a monstrous face, its rib cage jutting out of its chest, and the only clothes it wore were a pair of fingerless gloves and ripped shorts that matched the guitar. In life, the zombie had been a ruggedly handsome rock star, but now Lord Raptor was nothing more than rotting flesh and bones.
“Yikes! I feel like I’ve been stuck in the ground for at least a decade this time around,” the undead musician moaned. “Le Malta, old buddy! Are my new band mates here yet, or do we have time to run some tech?”
“You’re the first to arrive, boss!” chirped a high-pitched voice. An odd, toad-like creature with a single eye came bouncing in from behind some of the headstones. The creature came to a stop at the zombie’s feet, hands raised in the air with excitement.
“Seriously?” Lord Raptor chuckled. “Well, guess as the self-appointed front man of this new band we’re putting together, I oughta lead by example!” Lord Raptor “Better warm up the ol’ ax here and see if it’s still cut out for tonight’s performance. Le Malta, you keep a lookout for our new manager and whoever they decided to recruit into our group. And let me know if any overly excited fans crash the box office! The house isn’t quite ready to open just yet!”
“Got it, boss!” Le Malta cheered, hopping in place before leaping back into the fog. Originally appointed by Lord Raptor’s old boss Emperor Ozom to keep an eye on the back-stabbing musician turned assassin, the Makai beast quickly found that Lord Raptor provided him with far more compassion and entertainment than anyone ever had previously. Le Malta had stopped spying for Ozom long before the emperor’s disappearance.
As Lord Raptor began to play his guitar in earnest, a swarm of bats flew right past the zombie. The swarm made its way through the foggy boneyard, before rising higher into the air and congregating on one of Castle Aensland’s spires. As the light of the full moon shone down the tower’s balcony, the bats merged together into a dark and towering silhouette. A tall man began to appear, one with a brown widow’s peak, dark blue formal clothes, a white ascot, and a long billowing cape. This was none other than the vampire Demitri Maximoff, and as his red eyes came into focus, he glared down at the graveyard below.
As Lord Raptor finished strumming, the musician let loose a howl. “The dead heart inside me beats yet again, and Ol’ Faithful here still plays like a nightmare! Any updates, Le Malta!”
His partner bounded back into view. “There are some weirdos making their way to the crypt at the back. I think I even recognized a few of them!”
“Yeah, and those bats that flew past me before were way too familiar,” the zombie stroked his bony chin, before shrugging. “We’ve got one hell of a show in store now! Lead the way, buddy!”
Demitri could only scoff at the sight of the ridiculous duo making their way deeper into the foggy boneyard. “So even that nuisance has shown up,” the disgraced noble remarked with annoyance. “Regardless, I have no time to waste. Especially if a buffoon like him also was invited.”
“Invited? What could you possibly be talking about, Demitri?” came a voice from within the castle. This was followed by an alluring woman with long green hair. The woman wore a dark and revealing outfit, with bat-like wings protruding from her hips as well as both sides of her head. This was none other than the castle’s ruler Morrigan Aensland. “With how frequently you barge into my home, one might get the impression you were trying to court me. You do realize there are more interesting ways to get a woman’s attention, don’t you?” Demitri glared at Morrigan, before quickly…
…leaping off the balcony, soaring straight towards the cemetery. It took Morrigan a moment to process this.
Demitri regularly broke into the castle and invaded the grounds, but it was always with the intent of challenging her to a duel for what was now her throne. Admittedly, in recent times, the fights more often than not were interrupted by some fascinating crisis, but Demitri’s initial reason for coming was ALWAYS to pick a fight with the succubus. It had been ever since her father’s passing, so the idea that she wasn’t his primary reason for visiting was…unheard of, to put mildly.
“What’s going on, Demitri? This isn’t like you at all,” Morrigan inquired as she quickly gave chase, her curiosity piqued.
“It is unlike you as well to miss such a gathering of power, especially one gathering so close to your home,” Demitri clapped back. “Nor to actually invite me into your home.”
“Invite you?” t he succubus said with a sultry giggle. By now the pair had landed at the entrance gate to the cemetery, and proceeded to make their way inside. “With how frequently you show up at my window unannounced, I’ve never felt the need.”
“Precisely. Your reaction to my appearance proves the letter I received was a forgery.” Without turning around to face her, the vampire removed a folded piece of parchment paper and tossed it at Morrigan. The castle ruler caught the paper and unfolded it, her brows furrowed in confusion .
“...How odd,” Morrigan remarked. “This is my handwriting, but I would never write such a letter to you…or anyone really. I am the sort to write much like how I speak, and this is…”
“Indeed, I’ve never known you to be so straight to the point,” Demitri confirmed. “Whoever sent me this was skilled enough to imitate your hand, but lacks the knowledge of your mind.”
“It was probably whoever hired me!” Lord Raptor’s irreverent voice supplied from within the fog. About a minute later, the vampire and succubus could make the zombie’s frame in the fog.
“I must say, Raptor, it has been some time since we last met,” Morrigan called out. “But while I do recall that you had an…affinity for burial grounds, I must wonder what about that of my family in particular would interest you.”
“Me personally? Not a whole lot,” the musician admitted as he lept into full view of the pair, Le Malta joining him instantly. “But my new sponsor appears to be a different story.”
“Sponsor?” Demitri said with disbelief. “A perpetual backstabber like you has another master willing to try and put a leash on you?”
“Apparently!” Lord Raptor confirmed without shame. “Here I was, sleeping in the dirt, recovering after the last beating I got, and all of sudden, I hear a pair of voices in my head, offering me more power than any of my previous bosses ever could. In exchange, they said they were going to move my remains, and when they woke me up, I just had to put on a show for two old friends.”
“Why are there so many fools who think you’re worthy of being a court musician?” Demitri grumbled. “I wouldn’t even take you on as a court jester.”
“That’s a bummer,” Lord Raptor said with a laugh. “I honestly think a stint working for either of you would be entertaining. At the very least, it might put me in that babe Hsien-ko's good graces for once.”
“You mean the jiangshi? To think, you actually are making me feel pity for someone else…” Demitri said with a shake of his head .
“I’m in favor of many different forms of love myself, and I must say I find their relationship quite amusing as it is,” Morrigan giggled. “Still, I do believe I know Hsien-Ko and her sister well enough that I can offer you some advice.”
“I guess a succubus would understand the concept of love better than anyone!” Lord Raptor admitted. “So whatcha got for me?”
“There’s something you already have a bit of, but it’s still considerably lacking compared to others,” Morrigan answered with a smirk.
“I already knew that! I still don’t have enough star power!” Lord Raptor said in response.
“That’s what you took from her piece of ‘wisdom?’” Demitri dryly remarked.
“Well, yeah? But fortunately, I’ve got a few more helping hands this time around!” Lord Raptor snapped his fingers. “I think it’s time we all got to meet my new bandmates!”
At his invitation, three new shadowy forms began to appear in the fog behind the zombie. A blood curdling howl came from the silhouette furthest to the musician’s right, followed by the fog being blown away in a sudden gale. As visibility improved, Morrigan and Demitri could now see who else was present. To the far right of Lord Raptor stood a werewolf. At first glance, he closely resembled someone both the succubus and vampire were acquainted with: the martial artist Jon Talbain. However, upon closer inspection, there were clear differences. The fur was a ragged and dirty violet opposed to Jon’s deep silver, the claws and belt crimson instead of yellow, and tattered sweatpants a shade of black instead of purple. Above all, however, were the werewolf’s eyes, possessing all of Jon’s ferocity and none of his wisdom. Whatever this being was, it refused to reign in its desire for blood, regardless of whether or not it even could.
But matching the werewolf’s bloodlust was a familiar samurai wielding a gleaming katana, crouching between Talbain’s lookalike and Le Malta. Clad in gold and dark red armor with a demonic face for a chestplate, this cursed being twice went by the name of Bishamon, a monk possessed by demonic arms. The last time anyone had seen this same set of armor and sword, however, the being had acquired enough power to manifest a body of its own, no longer requiring a host. But from what Morrigan had heard, Bishamon himself had sealed the sentient armor and blade away with the aid of his wife. How had they gotten here?
Most peculiar of all was the swordsman standing to Lord Raptor’s left. From the neck down, the stranger resembled Demitri, with an eerily similar build to the vampire and dressed in a matching scarlet suit. But the man’s face bore a disturbing likeness to that of the dhampir Donovan Baine, wearing his hair a similarly long braid and carrying what appeared to the twin to the Darkhunter’s demonic blade Dhylec. And yet while Donovan wore a constantly serious expression, the closest thing to emotion that could be found on this bizarre doppelganger’s countenance were lips turned in a slight frown. His gaze was narrowed but his eyes were empty. No happiness, surprise, sadness, or even anger. What set this man apart from either Demitri or Donovan, however, was the black demonic aura radiating off of him.
“Looks like the big wig producers really pulled out the stops, providing us with some skilled bandmates this time around!” Lord Raptor laughed as he took in the newcomers. “Shame they couldn’t that get Hsien-Ko-”
“Or that psychotically cute blonde!” Le Malta chimed in.
“-to join us, but maybe if we make it big enough, it’ll be enough to change some minds!” the zombie continued without missing a beat, before pointing a bony finger at the demonic samurai. “I definitely recognize the drummer they got me.“You’re Bishamon, if memory serves. Lose a little weight?”
“Dead weight, in fact,” the samurai said with a savage grin, the chestplate’s toothy smile twisting to match. “You can call me Hannya this time around, and my partner here Kien,” the sentient armor explained, as both his faces adopted a look of mock sadness. “Bishamon had such potential, and the three of us had quite a wonderful thing going on! It’s why I bother to retain this particular form, even now. And in the past, I’ve even kept his name as my own. But alas, his wife Orin protested and made us split up.”
“I completely understand, my good man! All too often great bands and artists are brought to ruin because a beautiful woman stole someone’s heart,” Lord Raptor sympathized. “I should know! It’s happened to me, too!”
“Repeatedly, in fact!” Le Malta added. “And it’s always the same one!” Lord Raptor smacked his partner over the head.
Demitri just scoffed at their antics. “I’m not surprised to see the ghoul or even the armor as part of this silly entourage. But while he and his aura do resemble members of the Kreutz family, I do not recognize. Are you some forgotten member of their bloodline, mongrel?”
“GRRRRRR!” snarled the werewolf, clearly not amused by the vampire.
Lord Raptor scrunched up his eye sockets before smacking a fist into the palm of his opposite hand. “He does look an awful lot like that martial artist nut the blue catwoman keeps bugging,” the undead musician mused. “So I think I’ll call you Dark Talbain. That alright with you, my new keyboard player?” To this, the werewolf made no sound. “Not hearing a ‘no’! Dark Talbain it is, then!”
“...So, who’s the last guy?” Le Malta titled his head to the side in thought. “He kinda looks like some haphazard fusion between the vampire here and that wandering monk from way back when. Got a name, pal?”
“...I have no name,” spoke the aforementioned doppelganger. “No memories of my past nor the ability to maintain any new ones I forge for long. I do not know where I originate from nor what I am destined to become. All I possess is an urge to fight, and the one who called me here has told me I can feed that urge.”
Lord Raptor just shook his head in pity. “And just when I thought this band would have such wonderful synergy. Even the bassist has gotta have some ambition if you’re gonna be part of the roster, Dee!”
“...Dee?” asked the swordsman, turning his head to face the rock star. The apparent confusion on his face was the most emotive he’d been since arriving.
“Well, yeah?” shrugged Lord Raptor. “You kinda look like a fusion of that dhampir Donovan and Demitri over here, and both their names begin with the same letter, so why not?”
“...Call me whatever you wish,” the newly christened Dee acquiesced. “The moniker you bestowed upon me brings neither happiness nor disgust.”
“...Anyone want to bet he’s already forgotten his new name?” Le Malta supplied unhelpfully.
Demitri had finally lost what remained of his patience. “ENOUGH!” the vampire shouted. “I came here to find out who could have possibly sent that forged invitation, and it is blatantly clear that no one in this traveling circus is responsible. Either bring out this supposed ‘boss’ of yours immediately, or I will take my leave.”
“Can’t do anything about that, I’m afraid,” Lord Raptor admitted, which prompted Demitri to turn his back on the group and begin to depart. “But they did say that they’d be bringing along a few more VIPs for the second set. I think one of them was some guy you and Morrigan both know.”
“And who could that be?” asked Morrigan.
“What was their name again?” Lord Raptor tilted his head to the side in thought. “I think it was…Belial?”
Demitri stopped in his tracks.
“You mean my father?” Morrigan said with a furrowed brow. “He’s been dead for quite some time now.”
“You’re seriously saying that to me of all Darkstalkers? That is rich , lady!” the depraved musician cackled, with Le Malta and Hannya joining in. “I don’t want to spoil the entire show, but the producers insisted on having your royal hiney’s old man added to the program. Neither of them are quite ready yet, though, so I think our new band’s big debut will just have to hold you over until then.”
“...Very well,” Demitri said as he turned back around, gathering power into his clenched fist. “It may have been under false pretenses, but I was still invited to these grounds. It would be rude of me to leave before at least greeting everyone that will be attending tonight’s…festivities. In the meantime, however, I see that the would-be host has provided me with several punching bags, and I have this sudden craving to let out some frustration.”
“That’s the spirit, Demitri old bat!” Lord Raptor began to explain. “Belial is supposedly a big part of tonight’s finale, so you can consider my new friends and I here to be the main event!”
“You really are nothing more than a jester if you think you amount to anything more than an opening act for an unfunny comedy,” sneered Demitri.
“More like the sole highlight!” Le Malta agreed. Lord Raptor smacked his partner over the head yet again.
“So if I understand all of this correctly, you’re all just biding time for your new bosses to do…something to my father,” Morrigan clarified, gathering power into both of her own hands.
“In other words, a distraction,” the vampire growled.
Normally, she would smirk at Demitri’s visible irritation. But as entertaining as it was to see the banished nobleman annoyed, Morrigan was no fool. Impersonating her in order to summon Demitri, someone who would rather side with a rival he strongly disliked than be manipulated by unknown forces. Recruiting known loose cannons like Lord Raptor and Le Malta, a walking menace such as Hannya, and a pair of dangerous wild cards who were undeniably just as powerful as the warriors they resembled. Having designs involving the former ruler of Makai, yet ensuring that both the deceased leader’s adopted daughter and one bearing an all-consuming grudge towards him were lured within close proximity to the royal mausoleum. There were too many factors about the events unfolding that made little sense when viewed separately, and even less when viewed as a whole. Was Lord Raptor’s new master a genius, a fool, or stark raving mad? It was becoming more and more difficult to assess what details were signs of arrogance, which were calculated risks, and just how much of what had already transpired was going exactly as this unknown mastermind intended.
‘If everything really is going according to some jerk’s grand plan, I’m worried that whatever they have in store for dad is just another part of an even worse scheme, sister,’ came Lilith’s voice, to Morrigan’s slight surprise.
‘I thought you didn’t care for our father, Lilith,’ Morrigan mentally responded.
‘I’ve come to understand his thought process at the time,’ Lilith explained, for shortly after their initial merging, the servants of the castle had finally revealed to Morrigan what Belial had done to them all those years ago. ‘Doesn’t mean I like nor have forgiven him for it.’ Usually, Lilith only communicated to Morrigan during intense combat or when she was summoned during a particularly vicious Darkness Illusion. If there was that much power in the air already, they had no further time to waste.
“As hilarious as this whole exchange has been, my uninvited guests, the night is still quite young! Let’s have some fun!” Morrigan declared, rising higher into the air as she launched a Soul Fist straight at Dark Talbain.
And thus the battle begins anew…