By Maverick          11/2001


This is a fanfiction. It is not intended to infringe on the rights of 

*- Hideyuki Kikuchi
*- Yoshitaka Amano
*- Asahi Sonorama
*- the Vampire Hunter D Production Committee
*- Studio Madhouse
*- Urban Vision Entertainment
*- Manga Entertainment 
*- or any other entity

Foreword :

I have never read any VHD Grapic Novels, and I am not an english native person,
a strange fact considering I can't even write german works without feeling a
little limited in the use of words. You might notice this fact sometimes when 
reading some of my works. Clearly Vampire Hunter D (I got my Release from Manga
Entertainment) is one of the best Anime I ever saw (if not the best IMHO).

Well, this is my first VHD work, as well as my first offically released, so let
me know if, and how you like it.

E-Mail : 

                          And most of all : Have Fun!


                    Vampire Hunter D - Memories of the past

Yes, there were those thoughts. D knew he could never surpress them fully, but
he had learned to hold them at distance. Yet this night was diffrent... the
moon emitted an eerie glow, as D pulled over his horse.

"Why are we stopping, D?", the Symbiot asked in an angry tone. D remained
silent, as he dismounted from his horse. He patted it on the head, while taking
a look at his surroundings : huge trees, green grass, fallen logs, a long ceased
firepit. And an almost tombstone-like rock. A strange cozy feeling had befallen
D, a feeling he remembered from his long past days. Before his eyes, the vision
of his long dead father appeared, a shady picture from past days. 

"We will rest here." The Symbiot began to argue, "There is nothing here, c'mon, 
the next town is only a day ride away." D ignored the Symbiots implying and drew
his sword. He looked for a thin tree, that would make no trouble in chopping
down. SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! And the small thin tree fell apart. He picked up the
wood and put it on top of the fire pit, while staring against the night sky. 
There were no clouds, the moon emitted it's bright light, but there were no 
stars. It bothered him as he took off his thick leather gloves. 

"At least you're givin' me a little fresh air." "Do your job." "Always the same
aren't we?" A blast of fire shot from D's hand and engulfed the logs, which 
would preserve a fire for the long cold night. D sat down, leaning against the
bigger upstanding rock, while he stared at the campfire. "So here we are D, is
it comfortable enough? I'd prefer a warm bed rather than this." D grunted, 
"Shut up." D felt uneasy, yet a distinct feeling of safety here, as the visions
kept coming to him, from all sides. Shadows of the past, his dark past, his 
betrayal, from long before even the Symbiot knew. Then D did something even the
Symbiot wouldn't have expected. He began to talk.

"How much time has passed? A few millenia it must have been." The Symbiot 
remained silent, but D seemed to want its attention as he raised his hand and
brought the Symbiot face to face with him. "The old days are long gone, yet the
memories stay alive, like remains of the third world war below the cities." The
Symbiot took on a riddled look, "What are you talking about?" D stared into the
crackling fire, and remained silent for a minute. He never had passed on this 
knowledge to anyone, now why did he feel he had to talk about it? But he did 
answer in the end, "About my past, my legacy. The events that happened before I
became a hunter, why I became a hunter."

"Why I am what I am."

*** Flashback ***

These were the tragedies of life... a human born with vampire blood in his
veins, neither human nor vampire truly, yet bound to the laws of both. D once
was a "rather" normal child, in a normal town, with a "rather" normal life, in
a time where very few people really believed in vampires. 

His mother was a rather charming woman going by the name of Angelique. Her son
Morian, D's name of the past, was the only thing she had left. He was named 
after his father-to-be, who had left when it was clear that Angelique was
pregnant. Cursing her for disgracing his family, in believing she secretly had
another lover, he left her alone to die with her brood. The truth was more 
cruel, for she had been taken by another man another night. She didn't remember
who he was, neither did she remember anything that night, but she knew what 

Though without her husband from now on, she gave birth to Morian and tried to 
give him as much care as a mother possibly could. His darkside became evident 
to her as he grew up. In the age of eight Morian glanced the sight of a dying 
bird, shot down by someone doing his daily target pratice. The blood was fresh,
and an inner voice longed for that tasty red. He stood there frozen like a 
statue, without taking his eyes of the delicatess. That was when Angelique 
touched him on the shoulder, "What is it son?" That ripped Morian out of his
frenzy, "Uhm... mom, that bird over there..." 

Angelique eyes swept the area and soon found the bird, although it was pretty
hard to spot amongst the fields. "Looks like somebody did target practice on 
this one. You haven't seen it before Morian, but that's the shots you always 
hear." Morian looked at the bird once more, then turned away and began to work
on, "Do the weak ones always end like this?" Angelique was taken by surprise by
that question, "I suppose so... nature is a cruel thing, but it has it's ways."
Morian thought a minute, "The strong are born to prey on the weak. Is that what
you try to tell me, mother?" Angelique turned white as Morian drew his 
conclusion, as she didn't know what to tell him.

Two years later went to the store once, when his mother was ill, to get some
food and medicine. There where some customers around, one older man, probably
about 55 in age, and several younger people. Morian glanced at the old man with
the simple thought he had back two years ago in the fields, "This man is old,
old and weak. He soon will be preyed on." Then his eyes fixed on the sword the
old man had hanging at the side, he admired it's beauty. But he was here to buy
some supplies, so he conducted his business as soon as he could. 

Just as he stepped outside again, he was stopped, by three boys, a litte ahead
of him in age. "Hey kiddie, where are you going?" Morian remained silent, not
that he was speechless, he just didn't want to say a thing. "C'mon, you've 
bought a whole lot. How about parting with some of it?" One of the three had a
very sinster grin on the face. 

"Go home boys, and I'll forget I saw what was going on here.", a voice emerged
from the door. It was the old man. The three backed off, "Damn. Well, we'll get
back to you another time." The three turned tail and ran away fast. Morian 
turned over to the man, who came closer with heavy steps, "You seem okay young
one. Guess I was just in time to preserve your goods." Morian checked him 
through the whole time, and he glanced at the sword once more. The old man 
noticed that, "You've got a good eye lass. You like my sword? Take a look at

Morian simply nodded, and took some steps torward the sword to get a closer
look, but he held his distance. The old man looked a bit strangely at him, but
he smiled, "Now, you are a very cautious soul, aren't you? What's your name?"
Silently Morian thought for a second, but then gave an answer, "It's Morian."
The old man still smiled, "The son of Angelique?" Morian was taken by surprise,
"You know mother?" He nodded, "Not as much as you, but I guess I know her for a
while longer. Perhaps I should come over for a visit sometime." 

To Morian it sounded more like an order, even though it was a question. But he
had to agree. Not that he liked company, but he was weak... and even though the
old man was so as well, he was stronger than him. They both went back to 
Morian's home, without talking. 

The old man entered the house first, to pay his regards to Angelique, who seemed
to be quite happy to see him, "Doragon, this is a surprise to see you. What 
brings you here?" Morian sat down at the table, staring at the two, they seemed
to know each other for a long period of time now. "Your son has gotten into some
trouble at the store, I bailed him out. How do you feel?" "Not very good." 
Angelique coughed a little, "Can I ask you to keep an eye on my boy while I'm
tied to the bed?" Doragon nodded, "It is a simple request Angelique, considering
what I owe you." Angelique smiled, "Don't overdo it Doragon, it would've been
pretty heartless not to have done so." 

She sat up in the bed, "Morian, Doragon is a long time friend. You can trust 
him with your life if you have to." Morian nodded and made a remark, "You are 
dying, aren't you mother?" Doragon turned torwards Morian, and checked his face.
There were no emotions on it, just like in the encounter at the store. His 
mother looked at him, coughed once more, "Why do you think so son? I'm fine, 
you'll see me get well soon enough." Doragon stepped closer looking at Morian...
how could that kid accept the fact so easily? More that matter, how could he 
anticipate it, if Angelique kept the lie up, that she would get better. 
Doragon knew she wouldn't... but he wondered that Morian somehow knew it.

He was unlike most children, he had something that Doragon was afraid of. Morian
once more returned an answer, "Because it is evident." Then Morian went outside,
leaving the two alone. Doragaon kept looking as Morian disappeared through the 
door, "He is very strong." Angelique fell back into her bed, "Yes he is... and I
am too weak. Shame on me." "Rest Angelique, I'll take care of him, as if he'd be
my own son." She thanked him, and laid back to rest. Doragon went after Morian
who was sitting outside watching the sky.

"You are right Morian." Morian nodded, "I know. I knew it from the day mother 
became ill." Doragon sat down, "What will you do then?" Morian didn't take off
his eyes from the sky, "Bury her when she's dead. And learn how to be strong."
These words echoed in Doragon's mind for several days, and he decided he would
teach Morian to be strong... with a sword.

Morian grew up faster, he took a big intrest in fighting with the sword, and
soon even went beyond the comprehension of his master. With every passing day
he more and more acquainted to the darkness, which Doragon found very strange.
One day he wounded Morian lighty while they were training, but when he got to
treat the wound, there was none. Morian was a more practical type of being, but
also a quiet, thinking soul, especially when it came to him. What was he? He
was far beyond the normal scope... a simple wound didn't mean anything to him.
What was this hunger he felt, when got a sight of blood? He began reading a lot,
but he couldn't find any symptoms for an illness that would do such things to

One day finally accepted this as part of his being. When he grew eighteen
everything seemed natural for him. There was only one thing left for Morian,
to find his father, the only answer to his already accepted but still unanswered
questions. "Doragon, you have been a father to me the last years." The old man
who really grew old meanwhile smiled, "I gave your mother my word to do so. I am
a man of honor." Morian sat down at the closest chair, "Who is my father?"
Doragon's smile passed away, "Why do you take intrest in your father?" "Because
only he holds the answers to my questions." Doragon looked in Morian's eyes,
they were cold as usually. "I believe Morian went to another town. I cannot tell
you which, for I don't know." Morian kept up the eye contact, "Don't tell me
mother hasn't told you. Morian is not my father." Doragon sighed, "How long did
you know it?" "I always knew somehow. I never felt truly like being his child."

Doragon told the story to Morian he had heared from Angelique before she died.
Finally he added, "I often wished I had refused Angelique's request." Morian
stood up, "You do not need to, Doragon. I'll be leaving you soon, to live your
own life. I have pestered you long enough, and I will find my father." There was
a sense of easiness in Doragon's face when Morian confronted him with those
words. Morian looked at him, "You fear me, don't you?" Doragon nodded, he wasn't
talking to a child anymore, but to a grown up man. Morian nodded, packed up his
things and left the house. He already wore the outfit that brought him through
the following millenia. Doragon still had something for him, kind of a present
before he left forever, "Take the horse Morian. It is yours." By mounting the
horse he left the town and rode torwards his next anticipated location.

After three days he finally arrived at close midnight. The streets were empty
except for some beggars and homeless. One man stopped him one the way down the
street, "Halt stranger!" Morian's horse stopped as he looked at the man with his
cold lightly glowing eyes. The stranger stated his business, "My master, the
count wishes to see you before sunrise. I have orders to take you to him, by 
force if I have to." Morian's looks became more sinister, "There'll be no need.
Take me to him." 

Morian followed the man, who was moving with great agility. "A werewolf maybe.",
Morian thought to himself. He had read much fictional books about the undead,
and his belief in those things, after having seen partially of some of things
happening to himself, had risen. Perhaps this count could lead him to his
father, if he really was, what Morian believed him to be. The rumours in this
region did tell so at least. 

After a few hours, they arrived at the castle in the mountains. The man stopped,
"Wait here while I go and inform the master." Morian looked at the man as he 
disappeared into the castle. Something felt very familiar about this place, 
though he had never seen it before. When the big doors swung open he proceeded,
and was greeted by a lone man in a dark cloak.

"You took long enough, Morian." Morian dismounted from his horse as the man 
from before came by and led the horse to the stables. "Don't mind him, he is
just a servant." Morian looked at the Count, for he was sure whom he was 
speaking to, "He is weak." The Count glanced at Morian, "That is true. But even
the strong cannot prevail without the weak." Morian nodded, "To hear this from
you is the first common thought we share." 

The Count suddenly had an evil grin on his face, "So you have learned the basics
already, Morian." He nodded, "Yes I have. That's why I have these questions." 
The Count pointed torwards the door that lead to the inner of the castle, "Why 
don't you join me in the living room, Morian?" He led the way and Morian 
followed inside.

The castle was old an dusty, and gave an overwhelming feel of safety to Morian.
Candlelight filled the eerie darkness inside the living room. There were several 
bookcases standing along the wall, full of folklore, history and much much more.
The Count sat down at the nearby chair, "Make yourself at home Morian." Morian
however preffered to stand at a little distance, and remained silent. The Count
looked at him, "Fine, do as you like. Now what are these questions you have? 
I am eager to see if I can answer them." Morian's looks swept over the hundreds
of books that must be kept here, "What am I?" 

"Hehe... patience young one, you will learn all in time. What are your other 
questions?" Morian turned torwards the Count, "Why have you done, what you have
done to Angelique?" He kept it brief, "Because it was the only way. The strong
use the weak to acquire their dreams." "She did not ask for it.", Morian 
answered calm. The Count raised an eyebrow, "You know I could kill you for such
an insult with the snap of a finger, Morian?" Morian remained unmoved, "I know
you wouldn't do so, father."

"Father? Morian, you astonish me. I believed you were looking for him, why are
you so certain you've found him?" Morian leaned against the wall, "Because there
is no other reason why you would've sent for me. And tell your Werewolf to get
away from the door, I am sick of him." The Count winked once, and Morian could
hear the footsteps distancing from the door, "You are very observant Morian, for
one so new to the course." He checked him from upside down, "Perhaps you are
ready, perhaps you are not. Eightheen years is not that much, but it possibly is
enough. Care for a drink?" He didn't answer, as the Count stretched out his
hand. As he pulled it back, he did it with some agony, "The call of blood
doesn't bind you? You even surpass my expectations." 

Morian eyes got a sharp look, "No matter what you tell me, though I might be
kind like you, I am not one of your kind. I can now see I am a half-breed, a
crossing between a human and a vampire. Simply an experiment. A failure, because
you can't control me by the power of blood." 

The Count arised, "That is a serious offense, Dracula Junior. I will punish you
severly for this." Morian took a defensive stand, "Try it father." Dracula 
laughed, "I have better things to do whelp. You will be taken care of." With 
that words Dracula jumped out the nearby window as Morian drew his sword. 
Quickly Morian rushed to the window, but he only cought Dracula crawling up the
outside wall, "Dammit!" The door cracked open and a werewolf jumped at Morian.
A quick slice from the sword, and the werewolf was lying around in two halves.

Outside on the corridor he could hear a gun firing. Slowly he went through the
door, with his blood shedded sword still in his hands. "Don't move!" Morian
looked at him. It was a male, probably 35 in years, well trained, holding a
Winchester at him. "The Count is upstairs." The hunter nodded, "Right, so you
will lead me to him, servant." Morian turned torwards the stairs, "I am no
servant. I am his executioner." 

He climbed the stairs, followed by the hunter, who quick-checked the room from
which Morian had emerged. Finally he lowered his Winchester, "Why are you after
him?" While slowly walking Morian replied, "Because of my mother." As they 
reached the next floor, Morian stopped, "There is one in the shadows to the 
left. A werewolf. And one is up above the door clenched to the wall." The hunter
quick checked the one in the shadows, and truly, there was something moving in
there, but so faint as if someone only would be breathing. BANG! The first
werewolf fell, as D walked forward. The second werewolf was sliced in half 
before he could do any real harm, as he descended down on Morian. Blood covered
him from the top, but he simply moved on. The hunter was pretty much surprised,
"Now wait, who the hell are you?" Morian looked over his shoulder, "You can call
me D." 

The hunter nodded, "It's Martigan." D nodded and went on. After dealing with 
several other werewolves, they finally reached a large hall with a throne, at
which Dracula was sitting. "It seems you have found me. I have to hand it to
both of you, you are quite a pest. I would've never expected you to be so
strong, son." The hunter grew white to this assumption, yet he had seen the 
coldness in D's eyes as he slaughtered those werewolves. Either the vampire was
lying, or D was just a trap. Suddenly he was back on guard, and raised his 
Winchester so he had both of them before him. D however simply moved on, 
"Angelique has suffered enough because of you. I am sure her soul can only rest
when there is no tomorrow for you." Suddenly another vampire descended down on
D. He evaded by jumping off to the side, and his sword cut her meaninglessly.
The vampire was female, D nearly shocked at her appearance, "Holy god! Mother!"
It was Angelique, "Hello my son." 

Her thoughts lingered at sensation of tasting his blood, "Why don't you come
to mommy?" D stood there frozen like a statue, as the wound he just inflicted
closed itself. Martigan just overlooked what happened, now he had three possible
targets, but he wasn't so sure which was to be the first. Angelique charged at
D, her fangs plunging out... but D had given a promise to her while she was with
the living. He fell backwards down to the floor while holding up his sword as
Angelique dived onto him. The blade went straight through her heart, and her
blood slowly started to cover the ground. Dracula laughed, "How does it feel to
have killed your mother?" Soon the vampire around the blade vaporized, the only
remains were the blood that flooded over D. 

His hunger made him swallow some without wanting to, and it made him stronger,
he felt young again like he felt before he undertook his journey, but he
disgusted himself of the thought. He arised, gripping the handle of his sword
thight, "She was dead already. I have just sent her soul to the place it
belongs. I'll make sure you'll enjoy your ride to hell." Dracula arised, and 
waved his hand. Martigan was caught off guard, and ripped apart by a werewolf.
The creature slowly advanced on D, but even though he did not take his eyes of
Dracula, he knew exactly where it was. A simple turnaround slash and the
werewolf lay at the ground with it's head missing. "This seems to be the last 
of your lackeys. Now it's just you and me."

Dracula stepped down the few stairs and stopped about 2 metres away from D. He
looked at him with a simply amused look, "So you believe you are able to kill
me? Why? Because your blood is as potent as that of a vampire? Hah, what
isignificance, a mere thought would be enough to kill you. But I'm in the mood
to play. Let's have a game, son." D shook off his last ditch of fear, "Very
well, either you or me." 

D and Dracula wandered around in circles, each watching for the other one to 
make a move. D was the first to attempt an attack. But as he jumped to attempt a
slash to Dracula's side, he found Dracula diving under his blade and his fist
in his stomach. D dropped his sword in the process and now was on even terms.
Now Dracula took the initative and started striking and kicking for D. D was 
almost helpless, he really had his trouble without a sword, and Dracula knew.
D was soon exhausted from taking hit to hit, and collapsed to the floor, 
"Damn you!" Laughing Dracula picked D's sword up, "It is only fitting that you
will die by what you had planned for me."

Dracula was just lifting D's sword for a stakedown, as D rolled away to the side
and got back on his feet. In a quick glance he picked up the Winchester that
lay besides Mortigan's remains and fired two blast at Dracula. He stepped back
holding his wounds, "So you are thougher than I thought." D reloaded the 
Winchester with the last 2 bullets Martigan had left, "So are you." D also 
quickly picked up a knife from Martigan's belt remains and attached it to his.

Then he slowly advanced torwards Dracula. Dracula simply stood there and his 
eyes got a glow... some power smashed D against the wall, but he kept the 
Winchester in his grasp. D aimed under powerful hurt and shot. BANG! He hit
Dracula on the lower part of his torso. Distorted by the pain, the power that
held D was gone, and he charged at Dracula with a jumping dive. Dracula realized
just as D fired off the Winchester again. BANG! The shot hit Dracula's forehead.

Dracula nearly lost his balance but tried to stay upwards. Then D threw the 
Winchester at his head, and finally Dracula clashed to the floor. The sword flew
away to the side as D dived onto Dracula with the knife pulled from the belt.
However Dracula kicked D right into the face and D fell back to the ground. 
He rolled off, still grasping the handle of the knife. Dracula had arisen now
holding the Winchester, "Now you will die Dracula Jr. Say your goodbyes." 

Instead of a bang, Dracula heard a click, "What the-" D already took aim and the
knife was sailing at Dracula. Dracula tried to evade one second too late, the
knife shove straight into his heart. D dived to the blade, and rushed for 
Dracula, as he grasped the knife to pull it out. D was quicker and Dracula's 
head off his shoulders. The head lying at the side still had some life left, 
"Damn you, traitor. You will one day die for this treachery!" D looked over to
the head, "But not today." He pulled out the knife himself and a second later
rushed the sword in at the same location. He made sure it came out at the back, 
"Farewell, father!" 

It took some time as litres of blood poured down to the floor before the body 
finally vaporized and D had beaten his father. He looked at the sword in his 
hand, and did something he never did before... he smiled, "To betray you, was
the least I could do for mother." He sheated his sword and left the castle. He
knew he simply had been lucky to have been underestimated, because he had been
the son, the weakling, the whelp.

>From now on he, the half-breed, the Dhampir, would set things right wherever 
vampires did something wrong. Even the strong cannot survive without the weak,
and using them only for oneself will result in retaliation. At the hands of a
Vampire Hunter. At the hands of Vampire Hunter D.

*** Flashback End ***

The morning sun greeted D's finishing words like the end of an act, and the
fire had already gone out by itself. The Symbiot had been listening for once
without commenting every sentence D gave from himself. But now it wasn't to be
stopped, "My, this was a touchy storing, but I would still like to get to the 
next town for a room!" D arised, "Fine, you'll get your will." The Symbiot was
caught by surprise, D almost never had him have his way, "What's gotten into 
you, D?" 

D smiled as he turned around and held the Symbiot torwards the stone he was 
leaning against the whole night. There was something carved into the stone, very
withered, but one who had heard D's story could imagine what once was clearly 
written there. And the Symbiot finally understood why D picked this place for
the night. There was a tombstone with a name very dear to him for that matter.