Archive of Our Own

Aching from the weight around her shoulder, Richter dumps her leather bag against the wall of a tucked-away alley covered by the awning of a home, the sound of glass bottles clanking against a small iron pan startled Richter out of her sleep-deprived haze. Quickly Richter opens the bag in fear of anything broken, but everything was intact.

Sighing, Richter turns to sit on the dry cobblestone. Everything begins to slow down as Richter yawns deeply, leaving behind an empty-headed feeling. Sounds start to drown out as Richter only hears sleepiness. A slamming door and booming laughter were coming from the house she lay against, Richter jumped up from her slumped position against the cold hard wall and instinctively made herself smaller, holding onto the wet leather bag and listening closely to the people around the corner, her heart stumbling over each beat.

Richter's thoughts kicked in, its just people having a good time, probably drinking.. They won't notice her tonight. She knew that in this neighborhood someone without a home would only maybe get a second glance. Trying to rationalize the safety of her location kept her tiredness away further as she sat still, body still tensed up against the wall as the voices got further away...

Once Richter could no longer make out their words, her limbs loosened and she tried to relax and focus on the priority: getting sleep for the night. Luckily the cape she got ahold of back at her village kept the rain from getting too much of her clothes wet, only some dampness.

Unhooking the cape, Richter puts it aside folding it up quickly, letting go of the leather bag and resting it gently next to her on the cobblestone. The balled-up cape was placed on top of the bag, for a cushion. Shivering, Richter slides her arms into her buttoned coat to warm her hands, as she lay her head onto the bag and adjusts until she's comfortable enough, her hands tucked under her arms for warmth.

It was comforting... Richters arms wrapped around herself felt like a warm hug. As Richter lay, she thought about Annette.. It was always her arms.

The sleepiness remained at bay as Richter imagined her... If she was here.. Maybe she should have come too. Richter wondered how things were back there. Was Annette punished for what happened? Oh, if only she were here...

Richter's hands started to move in a comforting way, stroking her sides as if she was in a hug, like someone else trying to calm her.. But sadness seeped in as if from a hole in the bottom of her boat.

Thoughts began to race.. Annette, Maria, their home, the priests.. That night.. A familiar frustration tore through Richter's body, she felt the pressure of anger and rage, it wanted to burst out of her body. It was painful, her heart stumbled harder.

Her eyes had closed shut tightly and a pained grimace took shape, brows furrowed strongly. the frustration of happiness and peace being denied for anothers selfish purpose.

It was very hard for Richter not to believe them. What her purpose was, and to believe what they instilled, even the most terrifying things. The worst part was Annette. For what reason did they keep them apart, and for what reason were they monitoring the house. No freedom comes without a cost when you're with them.

Thoughts raced, but along a single track. It wasn't long ago that Richter realized this was all because of that church. It wasn't the Belmonts who came before that did this to her. It wasn't Juste.. To oppress your subjects so freely. To instill such fear into a child. Maybe they thought happiness and love would be a distraction. Liars. Every day they preached love.

There was nothing worse for this world than that damn church. Even being Dracula's minion seemed more fitting for Richter. She had never before at that point felt more alive, or more herself, than that night in Castlevania..

But, the way Annette could so freely hug her in that castle. Richter's body tensed inward as her hands held onto herself, and she began to cry. Thinking how she felt more comfortable in that castle than anywhere near those priests.

Even afterward, after Richter was permitted to retire to the village with Annette, the priests still tried to rule over her. Annette said they almost never came to the village before. Treating Richter like a child. Though, more like an object. A weapon. One that should never express her love, for she is far too dangerous.

The frustration didn't cease as Richter silently sobbed, muscles still tense and aching. The hardest part was Annette. She untied the blindfold for Richter. Life doesn't have to be so oppressive. The way Annette was shocked at the priest's forms of abuse...

Richter was happy with her, and Richter was herself, like that night in the castle.. The church continued to act like it was a dangerous slope into hell, But every day together felt like a sanctuary. The church was never meant to know. Things are ruined because Richter was not able to hide.

What would she do? How will Annette and maria ever see her again? What lies are the church telling about her? How could they do this?!

Tears had wet Richters face as she abruptly sat up, sobbing angrily, and lifted her leg, kicking the cobblestone wall in front of her repeatedly with the heel of her shoe, like a target was plastered on and Richter's only instinct was to kill it.

"Damn it, Damn it, Damn it!!!!!"

The last kick to land was rather weak, as Richter's senses returned, and the pressure of her anger fizzled. After a few moments, she sighed.

Everything was still... Richter had stopped thinking, stopped feeling. Tiredness started to set in deeply. Slowly Richter slumped onto the makeshift pillow returning her hands into a self-embrace. the sleep deprivation had taken a toll on Richter after all.

This was a horrible night.. She thought, at least it's better than that night.. But still, Richter isn't free from this curse, and has no idea what to do.

Richter's eyes closed, drifting to sleep. Couldn't it have been that easy before? What a horrible night to have a curse.