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Dracula walked into the cathedral and stood at the center of the ruined cathedral, his eyes fixed on the remnants of the battle. The air was thick with the scent of scorched stone and the faint tang of Satan's blood
Alucard approached from behind, his footsteps silent as he moved through the debris. His usually composed demeanor was softened by the faintest hint of a smirk. “Well, that was... eventful,” he remarked, his voice echoing in the vast space.
Dracula glanced over his shoulder, a rare, tired smile tugging at his lips. “Eventful is one word for it,” he replied, his tone dry. He turned to face his son fully, a flicker of amusement dancing in his crimson eyes. “I must say, it's been a long time since I've felt so... alive, I can decide for myself finally.”
Alucard raised an eyebrow. “Strange choice of words, considering,” he teased, folding his arms across his chest.
The two stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared history lingering in the air. But the solemnity of the moment was shattered when Alucard’s gaze fell on one of the few remaining intact objects in the cathedral—a large, ancient bell hanging precariously from the ceiling. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.
“You know,” Alucard began, his tone deceptively casual, “I always wondered what would happen if someone were to give that bell a little nudge.”
Dracula followed his son’s gaze and raised an eyebrow, catching on quickly. “You wouldn't dare.”
A playful grin spread across Alucard’s face. “Wouldn’t I?”
Before Dracula could react, Alucard vanished in a blur of speed, reappearing at the base of the bell tower. With a single, well-aimed kick, he sent the bell swinging wildly. The deep, resonant clang filled the cathedral, sending vibrations through the very foundation of the ancient building.
Dracula shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle. “You’re going to bring the whole place down, you know that?”
Dracula laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that seemed to lift the oppressive atmosphere that had lingered since the battle. “I like the way you think, son.”
Alucard shrugged, his grin widening. “Consider it a stress test. Besides, it’s not like we’ve left much standing.”
With a flash of dark energy, Dracula teleported beside Alucard. “If we’re going to do this,” he said, his voice laced with mock seriousness, “we might as well do it right.”
Together, father and son unleashed a barrage of attacks on the bell, each strike causing it to swing more violently. The sound was deafening, the vibrations shaking loose the few remaining pieces of stained glass and sending them crashing to the ground.
Finally, with a resounding crack, the bell broke free from its moorings, plummeting to the cathedral floor with an earth-shattering crash. Dust and debris filled the air, and when it settled, Dracula and Alucard stood amidst the ruins,
Dracula looked at the wreckage, then at Alucard, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Well, that was... satisfying.”
Alucard smirked. “Fair point.”
As they turned to leave, a thought crossed Alucard’s mind, and he paused. “Next time, though,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been in centuries, “we should find something a little less sacred to demolish.”
Dracula chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Agreed. Maybe a castle or two?”
Alucard knew they needed to discuss their choice of whether to kill themselves or not with the Vampire Killer or not.
Dracula went to his throne, while Alucard stood on the stairs thinking, his hand resting lightly on the cold stone railing. His silver hair glowed faintly in the dim light as he stared down at the scene below. The destruction around them mirrored the turmoil within him. The battle had been won, but at what now?
Dracula reached the throne, an ancient seat of dark power, now cracked and weathered.
Dracula’s voice broke the silence, deep and resonant, yet laced with a weariness that matched the ruins around them. “You’re quiet, Alucard. Lost in thought?”
Dracula opened his eyes, staring ahead at nothing in particular. “Victory is often a hollow thing,” he replied, his tone devoid of the arrogance that once defined him.
Alucard descended a few steps, coming closer, though he still kept his distance. “And what now, Father? We’ve defeated Satan, but the world remains broken. Our lives... remain broken.”
Dracula leaned back on his throne, his fingers curling around the armrests. “Now?” he echoed as if the question held little meaning. “Now we... perhaps we simply... exist.”
--
Beyond the Grave his Marie watched "Oh Gabriel"
Sypha could say a word due to the pain.