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“So you say you cannot help me!?”
When was the last time he yelled in anger? He thought he’d bypassed such needless outbursts, but he couldn’t help this one. The stress and pain was getting to his head-- any wild animal would become rabid at this point, it was a miracle Simon had any semblance of his former self left in-tact at all.
He was running out of time. He couldn’t be tricked again, or lied-to, or ignored. These people-- didn’t they realize he’d saved them all!?
His fists clenched, pressing into the wooden surface of a counter. Simon knew he must’ve looked like a demon out of hell. Teeth were bared like fangs, hair mussed and tangled, shoulders hunched up as if he were about to crawl right over the counter and destroy the fearful man behind it.
Fearful. Afraid. The man looked so afraid, unready and unwilling to meet God now. He was frozen in place.
“ Y-you--! ” The venom in his words was nearly masked by the sheer terror behind it all, “ --You’re a m-monster! You Belmonts! Damned and cursed to Hell! Be-begone from here! ”
Frustration coursed through Simon’s pained body like a hot fire. The townsperson looked to be on the verge of tears.
Apparently Simon had been, too. He hadn’t noticed a warm liquid emerging from his eyes until the God-fearing man opposite of him did and choked back a gasp.
Stalling his rage, Simon took a moment to wipe at his eye, hand coming-back covered in blood. Bloody tears, of course-- he knew this. His eyes then looked to his fingers, the skin marred and cracked. The reality of just how terrible he looked set-in, and he knew he couldn’t waste any time arguing with civilians.
His face was torn and bloodied, arms and legs scarred in the most peculiar of ways. He had one foot in the grave, and he only needed two more pieces of Dracula to get out of it.
The vampire killer made a hasty retreat from the town immediately afterward, anger replaced by the fear that drove him forward. He wasn’t ready to meet God either, he wasn’t ready to be Judged.