Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction ❯ The One I Love ❯ The One I Love ( One-Shot )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Faia Saiyajin 
Leila looks back on the two men she left behind.
Anime/Manga: Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.03.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.6K | Visits: 934 | Status: Completed
Leila looks back on the two men she left behind.
Anime/Manga: Vampire Hunter D Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.03.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.6K | Visits: 934 | Status: Completed
Title: The One I Love
series: Vampire Hunter D : BloodLust
author: Faia Saiyajin
rating: PG
-I don't own D. But BOY do I wish I did. Yum yum yum. So sorry to Michael Stipe for stealing the title to one of his songs. ^^; This got a few mixed reviews from the readers at ff.net, so I hope that I will cause many of you to cry, sigh, and get disgusted at the same time. XD
------
"Mother?" A tall, lanky man, about 30 years in age, peeked his head into the bedroom. When his eyes fell upon the woman in the bed, he smiled. He was very handsome, with green eyes and pale yellow hair. It was pulled back into a pony tail at the nape of his neck. When you looked at him from the front, you could see a few soft tendrils here and there, poking out on either side of his throat.
"Yes dear... please come in. You don't need to ask. You know that, Grove." Even in her old age, she was still full of spunk. Trapped in this frail body was one of the feared Markus Brothers. The only survivor. Leila had lost her youth, but there was a trace of that battle-hardened beauty left behind. She was always a diamond in the rough. Patting the down comforter with hand, she smiled at Grove.
Grinning like he was still a boy, Grove resisted the urge to run to his mother. When he reached her, as she lay, he kissed her cheek, and sat down beside her. "How are you feeling today?"
"I've felt better." she snapped, a corner of her mouth pulled up into that familiar wry grin. Her husband and Grove's father, Trevor, had passed away years ago. 'It was because I chased those friggin' vampires around.' Leila used to snort. 'Being around them too long must have extended my lifespan.'
"Okay." Grove said softly, pain in his glass-green eyes. He was an only child, and losing his mother hurt worse than the time she had told him what SHE had lost. "I'll be back in a little while with some soup, okay?"
Leila smiled. Her blue eyes still sparked with youth and fire. "That sounds nice."
"Get some sleep, Mom." he said, as the pair kissed each other on the cheek.
"Yes, Grove." she chuckled, as he traversed the room, his boots making the paneled floor creak.
"Sleep well." he said, casting one look over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.
When her son had left, Leila sighed. He was such a momma's boy, the way he doted over her. But it was his right. He was an only child, and the son of a vampire Huntress didn't go over well with many of his childhood friends (or their mothers). Grove had such a wild imagination as a child. He could almost talk himself into seeing things.
But she knew that one of his imaginary visitors wasn't so imaginary.
Grove was about 8. He was out in her garden, playing. She was inside, washing dishes, and preparing supper. As par for the course, everyday, as she puttered around the house like some docile housewife, she wondered how she went from cold killer to warm mother. That's when little Grove threw himself in through the screen door, crashing into a kitchen chair.
"Grove!" She snapped. "Be careful, why don't you?" Wiping her hands on a towel, she uprighted the overturned chair. That's when she saw Grove, who was shaking with excitement. "What in the...? Grove... what's the matter?"
"I saw him Mommy!!"
"Who?" Instantly Leila turned her head to the door, scanning over the yard and property beyond with eyes trained from experience. She saw nothing. Then she knew that it was another one of Grove's extravagant fairy tales. She smiled at her son, patting his head of wild yellow hair. "Who did you see now?"
"I dunno! But he was real big and scary-lookin'! He had on this really neat black armor, and this loooooooonnng black cape! He had a wide hat on, and dark brown hair, and-"
Leila froze. She remembered. Images of the Dunpeal Hunter flashed in her mind's eye. Soft-spoken, but a powerful warrior. Straighforward, almost blasé in his speech. D. It had been 10 years since that fateful day at Castle Chaithe, those few days when she lost everything that had been near and dear to her. Her profession, and her friends... Nolt, Borgoff, Kyle, ...and Grove. The Markus Brothers. When she'd become an orphan, those four Vampire Hunters had taken her in. She snapped from her memory, to hear Grove still prattling on about the man he'd seen.
"He was by the sycamore tree, riding this HUUUUUGE horse! But as scary as he looked, he didn't look mean. He looked... sad." Grove nibbled on his bottom lip in childish wonder. Why had a man that seemed so powerful look like he was about to cry?
"Where did he go?" She stepped past him, touching his shoulder briefly with her hand.
"He turned around and left... went right under the tree, and towards the mountain."
Leila was out the door, dropping her towel as she bolted towards the end of her property. "D!" she called, when she had reached the huge sycamore. Her eyes darted from side to side, but she couldn't find him. "D!!" she called again. He'd vanished without a trace.
From time to time, as Grove got older, he still saw the imposing figure. It was always far off in the distance, under that same sycamore tree. When he was in his twenties, he had become a full-fledged mechanic, building the horses everyone in this town used.
He'd come home, wide-eyed and amazed. "HE came in today."
Leila was sitting in a rocking chair. Trevor had died when Grove was 19. She was sitting by the front window, looking out at the dusty trail that cut through the rolling hills. "Oh?"
"Yeah. He came in, right before I closed up. Bought a horse."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. His voice was very quiet and gentle. Just like I always imagined it would be." He sat on the couch, after getting a glass of water for his mother, and a beer for himself. Sipping the beer that had collected on the mouth of the can, he looked at the floor, his eyes pensive. "Who is he, Mom?"
"An old... friend... of mine."
"Is he a vampire? He never ages." The vampire plague had nearly died out by the time Grove had hit his teens. Leila suspected that D had a great deal to do with that.
But still, every now and again, there would be a ruckus that spread through this quiet down, a rumor over someone who had been kidnapped in one of the bigger cities. But two days would pass, and they would be home safely. D never failed his missions. Everyone he was paid to bring home he did. Except for Charlotte. Leila could still see Charlotte Elbourne, and the way she had clung to Meier Link. 'She really loved him, didn't she?' she caught herself saying every time the old memory surfaced. 'Love really is blind...'
"Mom?" Grove asked.
"Oh. Sorry. Forgot what I was going to say." Leila smiled a little. "I'm getting senile. But that man is a Dunpeal, and a Hunter."
"Did you know him?"
"For a few days."
"Why does he watch you like that?"
"Because we made a promise to one another."
Another faded memory. In the tree, north of the ruins and Lake Chiffon. D, who had nearly escaped a painful demise due to his Vampiric nature and Heat Syndrome, had awoken from his rejuvenating sleep in the earth.
'I think... I can guess... your problem. Your...family... was the victim of vampires....'
That one little sentence, spoken so easily in D's rich, but soft voice, made Leila's barriers come crashing down. They'd talked, while the rains outside threatened to wash everything away.
'Heh. It's the rain... makes me... sentimental. Doesn't really matter... ...I don't know why, but I just love flowers. ...But it seems I won't be getting any.' Leila had done most of the talking.
'I'll do it. I'll bring you flowers if I survive this. But I don't plan to.'
Leila rocked back and forth in the creaky chair, looking out the window, as if longing for those days to return. "We've got that much in common. That we're both Hunters, and we're both alone." she said quietly, looking at the vase of pink and white lilies that sat on the windowsill. "You're going to keep your promise, aren't you, Dunpeal?"
"Mom?"
"Sorry, Grove." she smiled, shaking her head slowly. One of her hands slid into her blonde hair. It was still short, like it had been those years ago.
He'd finished his beer, and stood. "I've got to go. I'm going to go see Tracy." Tracy was Grove's girlfriend of 5 years, a pretty black-haired seamstress that lived on the edge of town. He started up the stairs, to change out of his coveralls.
A month later, Grove and Tracy were married, and the whole town congregated to the churchyard for the ceremony. It had taken years of quiet living, but they'd come to grasp that the age of the Bounty Hunter had passed, and a retired Huntress posed no danger to them.
Tracy was a sweetheart, and the pair came to visit everyday, after the couple had moved into their own house. Tracy always brought yellow roses for her new-mother-in-law. It would seem that she loved flowers as much as Leila. She'd visited their house on several occasions, and Tracy's garden was an absolute paradise, so perfumed with different flowers that Leila almost wished she would die on the spot, while breathing their sweet smell. One day, the usual bouquet came with a spray of tiny white flowers. Baby's Breath.
"Mom..." Grove grinned, as Leila sat in her usual place, the rocking chair. She'd already put the gift in her favorite vase. "We're... expecting our first child."
Leila's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide and amazed. If she still had the strength, she would have jumped up and embraced the pair of them. "When?!"
"By April." Tracy beamed, bending to hug Leila. Leila returned the hug.
"I'm so happy for you.." she smiled.
"Grandma Leila does have a certain... ring... to it." Grove chuckled, kissing his mother on the cheek.
"That it does." she said wryly. "What do you want it to be?"
Grove put an arm around Tracy's shoulders. "We're hoping for a girl."
Well, the months passed, and one clear morning, April 5th, a little baby girl was born to Grove and Tracy. The new parents took their daughter to Leila as soon as Tracy had regained her strength.
Leila cradled the infant, rocking back and forth in her chair, humming to her. "She's beautiful, Grove." She smiled at them. The baby had inherited her father's blonde hair, as it was evident by the fine down that covered her skull. But she'd gotten those clear blue eyes from her grandmother. Genes were funny that way. She cooed to the baby. "What did you name her?"
Grove smiled. "Charlotte."
Leila was saddened for a moment. "Beautiful name..." she whispered. Little Charlotte began whining, for her lunch. Tracy reclaimed her child, and began to feed her. Grove could only stare in awe at the baby, gently stroking his fingers over her crown. 'Charlotte...'
The years went by like hours, and little Charlotte grew stronger. Leila, on the other hand, got weaker. She was old... almost 60. Charlotte came with her parents everyday, an ornery young 10 year old, just like Grove was when he was a child.
"Grandma Leila!" she'd squeal, and tear into her room, before her parents had even reached the downstairs living room.
"Charlotte!" Leila would beam, and open her arms wide. It was a shame... by age 60, she was bedridden. It was the arthritis. Chasing Vampires around had been hard on her body.
Leila's granddaughter would snuggle up beside her, and the daily pasttime would ensue. "The Adventures of Grandmother Leila", where Leila would tell her stories of her past. Even though it was getting to the point where Leila had to repeat a story or two, Charlotte didn't mind in the least.
"Tell me the one about Grove again!" Charlotte chirped, curled against Leila under the comforter.
"Which Grove?"
"Grove Markus!" Fortunately, Charlotte wasn't one to repeat what she heard, and the stories about Leila's heyday as a Huntress didn't get repeated to her parents.
"Well... Grove Markus was the youngest of the Markus Brothers, who were very powerful Hunters. Vampires all over the world knew the name Markus, and they feared it. There was Borgoff Markus, the oldest. His weapon was lots of silver arrows..."
"That used to fall down from the sky like rain!" Charlotte chimed in, excited.
"Yes... and then there was Nolt Markus and his hammer, who was as big as ..." she pointed to Charlotte, for her cue.
"As big as two bears!!" she giggled.
"Kyle Markus was the smallest, but he was quick."
"And annoying." Charlotte squealed, covering her mouth.
"His blades could whack off the head of any Vampire or Ghoul he came across." Leila made a slicing motion across her throat. "Grove Markus... well.. he was special. He was very sick, and never got out of bed."
"But when he did, you didn't want to have to fight him! And Kyle always called him a walking Bug-Zapper!"
"That he did... and with the four brothers, a young woman travled. Her name was..."
"Grandma Leila!!" Charlotte resisted the urge to bounce up and down in bed. "And she had a big pistol!"
Leila couldn't help but grin.
"Can I see it?"
"Of course."
Charlotte scrambled out of bed, and dashed to Leila's dresser. It was a struggle for the child to lift the oak case, but she waddled back, package in her short arms, putting in on the bed beside Leila. There, underneath the glass top, was a fat gun, still shining and deadly looking, after all these years.
Leila lifted the top carefully, withdrawing her pistol. It wasn't loaded, and Leila had long ago stopped buying the ammunition. It was funny, though. She may have been elderly, and frail, but she could still lift the gun in one hand, her aged face returning to that mask of stoicism, as she blasted Ghouls and Vampires without batting an eyelash. Amazing, considering that the rounds this little pea-shooter carried could put holes in her victims big enough to drive the Tank through.
When Leila was finished posing, and Charlotte had stood enraptured for a few minutes, Leila lowered the gun. Turning it over in her hands, she let the little girl hold it. Charlotte couldn't even lift it off of the bed, with both hands. "Did this thing really shoot?"
"Did it!" Leila snorted. "Packed 9 rounds, and I could reload all 9 in under a minute." She laughed cockily, as she helped Charlotte put the gun back in its case. At that moment, Grove knocked on the door.
"Ma?"
"Daddy!" Charlotte beamed, as Grove stepped through the door.
"Are you pestering your Grandmother again?"
"Of course not, Grove." Leila snapped. Charlotte giggled. She loved hearing her father get reprimanded. But it was only in jest, and Grove sat beside her, kissing his mother on the cheek. He eyed the gun.
"Wow.. I can't believe you still have this." he said, tapping the wooden frame with his finger.
"Yeah... she's ancient. Just like me."
"And just as well-preserved." he chuckled. He still had no inkling that the case could even open, let alone that his daughter had just held it. He checked his watch. "Come on, Charlotte. Help me get Grandma something to eat."
"Okay, Daddy!" Taking her father's hand, the daughter and father made their leave. Charlotte cast one look over her shoulder. "Love you!" she made it a habit to tell whoever was in the room she loved them before leaving.
"Love you too, sweetheart." Leila nodded, as the door clicked shut. She rested back on her pillows, her left hand resting on the now-opened case, fingering the barrel of her gun. "Grove Markus..." she whispered softly. She'd lived with four men for years, and not shown a lick of affection, save genuine friendship, to any of them. Borgoff was too goofy sometimes, too into his role as a Hunter. Nolt was a little too imposing for her tastes. Kyle... hell.. he was a good partner, and one hell of a fighter, but he was an annoying little upstart.
'Have I ever told you... that you're quite irrisistable in that skintight red getup of yours?'
Gah. That and his goofy braid. Leila smiled. But he was friggin' funny. And then.. there was Grove.
Sickly, skeletal Grove Markus. Who was a twig stuck in a mass of clothing and covers. Who had to be hooked to a machine that would keep him alive, when he got really bad. Why had he chosen that to be his weapon? Killing himself each time, only to be brought back from the dead? It had emaciated his body, until you could count every rib, every delicate bone in his arms and fingers. His features were sharp, but handsome. And his eyes... no matter how bad he was feeling, how listless he was, his eyes were always aware. Very keen, and they didn't miss a thing.
Especially when she'd first met D, and he'd saved her life.
'Who.. bandaged the wound? Was it him? The Dunpeal Hunter?'
The pair of them had secrets that no one ever knew. When the other three Markuses went hunting, on that rare occasion when Leila would get relegated to the Tank with Grove, they would talk. Of course, Leila was on edge the entire time, pistol held at the ready, but they would talk. About everything. Where their prey was headed, what sort of trap would Borgoff lay... but mostly it was about life. What would they want to do, when their lives as Hunters were over?
Leila had been given that second chance, to live a new life. And Grove had given his so that she could have that chance. When he was fighting, with his spirit, he was so overjoyed. To have his full strength back, not be trapped in this body that was withering away with every passing battle. It almost looked like he was singing, as he soared overhead, destroying Ghouls, Vampires, Were-Wolves, and a hella-lot 'a Barbarois.
Kyle would cheer, Borgoff would cross his fingers, and Nolt would watch, but Leila... Leila could only smile. It made her nervous, yes, because she never knew if his soul would return each time. But seeing him fight, and be free, it brought a smile to her face.
'Go get 'em, Grove.'
But the one time, the last time, she had seen him in his spirit, he didn't look happy. He died.. saving her. It tugged at Leila's heartstrings... because she never got to tell him how she felt.
And then, as if to spit on the memory of Grove Markus, she went and married. "Trevor... God rest his soul..." she said painfully, her eyes on the ceiling fan, as it turned lazy circles. She would never, EVER admit, not even to herself, that she had loved Grove Markus. Then... then there was D. She would admit, however, that at first, she hated the Dunpeal with every fiber of her being.
'I've seen many terrible things... homes wrecked, families destroyed, hopes crushed... and it always seems... that a vampire is to blame.' He was a Dunpeal. Half of what she despised, half of what had ruined her life at such a tender age.
But his last words to her, as they sought refuge in that tree, they made perfect sense.
'I am a Dunpeal. I don't get a life.' That's when he trained those peircing eyes of his, so full of remorse and sorrow, on her. 'Not like you.'
That's when Leila realized that he was living in his own personal hell. Feared because of his Vampiric side, and hated, because of his Human side. A man caught in an eternal limbo. Never to be accepted, forced to wander, hoping to atone for the illusionary sin he commited, of simply being alive.
'Enough,' she had said, watching D and Meier Link battle in Chaithe Castle. Charlotte Elbourne lay dead at her feet, sacrificed simply because she loved a Vampire. 'Enough of killing, enough of misery, enough of suffering and death. I have had... enough.'
That's when she had started her new life. But always, always would she remember those days. When life seemed to make sense, when her destiny was cut-and-dry. When there was no goal in her life larger than ridding the world of every single Vampire.
Outside her window, she heard something, very faint. The methodic click of hooves against the ground. It was the only noise, save for the rustling of the trees. Turning her head to look at the landscape that unfolded like a painting, she saw the hills, the mountains, and the smattering of trees across the horizon. And there, standing on the main road to the town, a black shape slowly came closer, barely discernable.
"D..." she whispered. If she squinted really hard, she could see something, standing out in all that blackness. A single white rose, held elegantly in his right hand. Leila smiled slowly. "Thank you, D... for keeping... your promise..."
FIN
series: Vampire Hunter D : BloodLust
author: Faia Saiyajin
rating: PG
-I don't own D. But BOY do I wish I did. Yum yum yum. So sorry to Michael Stipe for stealing the title to one of his songs. ^^; This got a few mixed reviews from the readers at ff.net, so I hope that I will cause many of you to cry, sigh, and get disgusted at the same time. XD
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"Mother?" A tall, lanky man, about 30 years in age, peeked his head into the bedroom. When his eyes fell upon the woman in the bed, he smiled. He was very handsome, with green eyes and pale yellow hair. It was pulled back into a pony tail at the nape of his neck. When you looked at him from the front, you could see a few soft tendrils here and there, poking out on either side of his throat.
"Yes dear... please come in. You don't need to ask. You know that, Grove." Even in her old age, she was still full of spunk. Trapped in this frail body was one of the feared Markus Brothers. The only survivor. Leila had lost her youth, but there was a trace of that battle-hardened beauty left behind. She was always a diamond in the rough. Patting the down comforter with hand, she smiled at Grove.
Grinning like he was still a boy, Grove resisted the urge to run to his mother. When he reached her, as she lay, he kissed her cheek, and sat down beside her. "How are you feeling today?"
"I've felt better." she snapped, a corner of her mouth pulled up into that familiar wry grin. Her husband and Grove's father, Trevor, had passed away years ago. 'It was because I chased those friggin' vampires around.' Leila used to snort. 'Being around them too long must have extended my lifespan.'
"Okay." Grove said softly, pain in his glass-green eyes. He was an only child, and losing his mother hurt worse than the time she had told him what SHE had lost. "I'll be back in a little while with some soup, okay?"
Leila smiled. Her blue eyes still sparked with youth and fire. "That sounds nice."
"Get some sleep, Mom." he said, as the pair kissed each other on the cheek.
"Yes, Grove." she chuckled, as he traversed the room, his boots making the paneled floor creak.
"Sleep well." he said, casting one look over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.
When her son had left, Leila sighed. He was such a momma's boy, the way he doted over her. But it was his right. He was an only child, and the son of a vampire Huntress didn't go over well with many of his childhood friends (or their mothers). Grove had such a wild imagination as a child. He could almost talk himself into seeing things.
But she knew that one of his imaginary visitors wasn't so imaginary.
Grove was about 8. He was out in her garden, playing. She was inside, washing dishes, and preparing supper. As par for the course, everyday, as she puttered around the house like some docile housewife, she wondered how she went from cold killer to warm mother. That's when little Grove threw himself in through the screen door, crashing into a kitchen chair.
"Grove!" She snapped. "Be careful, why don't you?" Wiping her hands on a towel, she uprighted the overturned chair. That's when she saw Grove, who was shaking with excitement. "What in the...? Grove... what's the matter?"
"I saw him Mommy!!"
"Who?" Instantly Leila turned her head to the door, scanning over the yard and property beyond with eyes trained from experience. She saw nothing. Then she knew that it was another one of Grove's extravagant fairy tales. She smiled at her son, patting his head of wild yellow hair. "Who did you see now?"
"I dunno! But he was real big and scary-lookin'! He had on this really neat black armor, and this loooooooonnng black cape! He had a wide hat on, and dark brown hair, and-"
Leila froze. She remembered. Images of the Dunpeal Hunter flashed in her mind's eye. Soft-spoken, but a powerful warrior. Straighforward, almost blasé in his speech. D. It had been 10 years since that fateful day at Castle Chaithe, those few days when she lost everything that had been near and dear to her. Her profession, and her friends... Nolt, Borgoff, Kyle, ...and Grove. The Markus Brothers. When she'd become an orphan, those four Vampire Hunters had taken her in. She snapped from her memory, to hear Grove still prattling on about the man he'd seen.
"He was by the sycamore tree, riding this HUUUUUGE horse! But as scary as he looked, he didn't look mean. He looked... sad." Grove nibbled on his bottom lip in childish wonder. Why had a man that seemed so powerful look like he was about to cry?
"Where did he go?" She stepped past him, touching his shoulder briefly with her hand.
"He turned around and left... went right under the tree, and towards the mountain."
Leila was out the door, dropping her towel as she bolted towards the end of her property. "D!" she called, when she had reached the huge sycamore. Her eyes darted from side to side, but she couldn't find him. "D!!" she called again. He'd vanished without a trace.
From time to time, as Grove got older, he still saw the imposing figure. It was always far off in the distance, under that same sycamore tree. When he was in his twenties, he had become a full-fledged mechanic, building the horses everyone in this town used.
He'd come home, wide-eyed and amazed. "HE came in today."
Leila was sitting in a rocking chair. Trevor had died when Grove was 19. She was sitting by the front window, looking out at the dusty trail that cut through the rolling hills. "Oh?"
"Yeah. He came in, right before I closed up. Bought a horse."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. His voice was very quiet and gentle. Just like I always imagined it would be." He sat on the couch, after getting a glass of water for his mother, and a beer for himself. Sipping the beer that had collected on the mouth of the can, he looked at the floor, his eyes pensive. "Who is he, Mom?"
"An old... friend... of mine."
"Is he a vampire? He never ages." The vampire plague had nearly died out by the time Grove had hit his teens. Leila suspected that D had a great deal to do with that.
But still, every now and again, there would be a ruckus that spread through this quiet down, a rumor over someone who had been kidnapped in one of the bigger cities. But two days would pass, and they would be home safely. D never failed his missions. Everyone he was paid to bring home he did. Except for Charlotte. Leila could still see Charlotte Elbourne, and the way she had clung to Meier Link. 'She really loved him, didn't she?' she caught herself saying every time the old memory surfaced. 'Love really is blind...'
"Mom?" Grove asked.
"Oh. Sorry. Forgot what I was going to say." Leila smiled a little. "I'm getting senile. But that man is a Dunpeal, and a Hunter."
"Did you know him?"
"For a few days."
"Why does he watch you like that?"
"Because we made a promise to one another."
Another faded memory. In the tree, north of the ruins and Lake Chiffon. D, who had nearly escaped a painful demise due to his Vampiric nature and Heat Syndrome, had awoken from his rejuvenating sleep in the earth.
'I think... I can guess... your problem. Your...family... was the victim of vampires....'
That one little sentence, spoken so easily in D's rich, but soft voice, made Leila's barriers come crashing down. They'd talked, while the rains outside threatened to wash everything away.
'Heh. It's the rain... makes me... sentimental. Doesn't really matter... ...I don't know why, but I just love flowers. ...But it seems I won't be getting any.' Leila had done most of the talking.
'I'll do it. I'll bring you flowers if I survive this. But I don't plan to.'
Leila rocked back and forth in the creaky chair, looking out the window, as if longing for those days to return. "We've got that much in common. That we're both Hunters, and we're both alone." she said quietly, looking at the vase of pink and white lilies that sat on the windowsill. "You're going to keep your promise, aren't you, Dunpeal?"
"Mom?"
"Sorry, Grove." she smiled, shaking her head slowly. One of her hands slid into her blonde hair. It was still short, like it had been those years ago.
He'd finished his beer, and stood. "I've got to go. I'm going to go see Tracy." Tracy was Grove's girlfriend of 5 years, a pretty black-haired seamstress that lived on the edge of town. He started up the stairs, to change out of his coveralls.
A month later, Grove and Tracy were married, and the whole town congregated to the churchyard for the ceremony. It had taken years of quiet living, but they'd come to grasp that the age of the Bounty Hunter had passed, and a retired Huntress posed no danger to them.
Tracy was a sweetheart, and the pair came to visit everyday, after the couple had moved into their own house. Tracy always brought yellow roses for her new-mother-in-law. It would seem that she loved flowers as much as Leila. She'd visited their house on several occasions, and Tracy's garden was an absolute paradise, so perfumed with different flowers that Leila almost wished she would die on the spot, while breathing their sweet smell. One day, the usual bouquet came with a spray of tiny white flowers. Baby's Breath.
"Mom..." Grove grinned, as Leila sat in her usual place, the rocking chair. She'd already put the gift in her favorite vase. "We're... expecting our first child."
Leila's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide and amazed. If she still had the strength, she would have jumped up and embraced the pair of them. "When?!"
"By April." Tracy beamed, bending to hug Leila. Leila returned the hug.
"I'm so happy for you.." she smiled.
"Grandma Leila does have a certain... ring... to it." Grove chuckled, kissing his mother on the cheek.
"That it does." she said wryly. "What do you want it to be?"
Grove put an arm around Tracy's shoulders. "We're hoping for a girl."
Well, the months passed, and one clear morning, April 5th, a little baby girl was born to Grove and Tracy. The new parents took their daughter to Leila as soon as Tracy had regained her strength.
Leila cradled the infant, rocking back and forth in her chair, humming to her. "She's beautiful, Grove." She smiled at them. The baby had inherited her father's blonde hair, as it was evident by the fine down that covered her skull. But she'd gotten those clear blue eyes from her grandmother. Genes were funny that way. She cooed to the baby. "What did you name her?"
Grove smiled. "Charlotte."
Leila was saddened for a moment. "Beautiful name..." she whispered. Little Charlotte began whining, for her lunch. Tracy reclaimed her child, and began to feed her. Grove could only stare in awe at the baby, gently stroking his fingers over her crown. 'Charlotte...'
The years went by like hours, and little Charlotte grew stronger. Leila, on the other hand, got weaker. She was old... almost 60. Charlotte came with her parents everyday, an ornery young 10 year old, just like Grove was when he was a child.
"Grandma Leila!" she'd squeal, and tear into her room, before her parents had even reached the downstairs living room.
"Charlotte!" Leila would beam, and open her arms wide. It was a shame... by age 60, she was bedridden. It was the arthritis. Chasing Vampires around had been hard on her body.
Leila's granddaughter would snuggle up beside her, and the daily pasttime would ensue. "The Adventures of Grandmother Leila", where Leila would tell her stories of her past. Even though it was getting to the point where Leila had to repeat a story or two, Charlotte didn't mind in the least.
"Tell me the one about Grove again!" Charlotte chirped, curled against Leila under the comforter.
"Which Grove?"
"Grove Markus!" Fortunately, Charlotte wasn't one to repeat what she heard, and the stories about Leila's heyday as a Huntress didn't get repeated to her parents.
"Well... Grove Markus was the youngest of the Markus Brothers, who were very powerful Hunters. Vampires all over the world knew the name Markus, and they feared it. There was Borgoff Markus, the oldest. His weapon was lots of silver arrows..."
"That used to fall down from the sky like rain!" Charlotte chimed in, excited.
"Yes... and then there was Nolt Markus and his hammer, who was as big as ..." she pointed to Charlotte, for her cue.
"As big as two bears!!" she giggled.
"Kyle Markus was the smallest, but he was quick."
"And annoying." Charlotte squealed, covering her mouth.
"His blades could whack off the head of any Vampire or Ghoul he came across." Leila made a slicing motion across her throat. "Grove Markus... well.. he was special. He was very sick, and never got out of bed."
"But when he did, you didn't want to have to fight him! And Kyle always called him a walking Bug-Zapper!"
"That he did... and with the four brothers, a young woman travled. Her name was..."
"Grandma Leila!!" Charlotte resisted the urge to bounce up and down in bed. "And she had a big pistol!"
Leila couldn't help but grin.
"Can I see it?"
"Of course."
Charlotte scrambled out of bed, and dashed to Leila's dresser. It was a struggle for the child to lift the oak case, but she waddled back, package in her short arms, putting in on the bed beside Leila. There, underneath the glass top, was a fat gun, still shining and deadly looking, after all these years.
Leila lifted the top carefully, withdrawing her pistol. It wasn't loaded, and Leila had long ago stopped buying the ammunition. It was funny, though. She may have been elderly, and frail, but she could still lift the gun in one hand, her aged face returning to that mask of stoicism, as she blasted Ghouls and Vampires without batting an eyelash. Amazing, considering that the rounds this little pea-shooter carried could put holes in her victims big enough to drive the Tank through.
When Leila was finished posing, and Charlotte had stood enraptured for a few minutes, Leila lowered the gun. Turning it over in her hands, she let the little girl hold it. Charlotte couldn't even lift it off of the bed, with both hands. "Did this thing really shoot?"
"Did it!" Leila snorted. "Packed 9 rounds, and I could reload all 9 in under a minute." She laughed cockily, as she helped Charlotte put the gun back in its case. At that moment, Grove knocked on the door.
"Ma?"
"Daddy!" Charlotte beamed, as Grove stepped through the door.
"Are you pestering your Grandmother again?"
"Of course not, Grove." Leila snapped. Charlotte giggled. She loved hearing her father get reprimanded. But it was only in jest, and Grove sat beside her, kissing his mother on the cheek. He eyed the gun.
"Wow.. I can't believe you still have this." he said, tapping the wooden frame with his finger.
"Yeah... she's ancient. Just like me."
"And just as well-preserved." he chuckled. He still had no inkling that the case could even open, let alone that his daughter had just held it. He checked his watch. "Come on, Charlotte. Help me get Grandma something to eat."
"Okay, Daddy!" Taking her father's hand, the daughter and father made their leave. Charlotte cast one look over her shoulder. "Love you!" she made it a habit to tell whoever was in the room she loved them before leaving.
"Love you too, sweetheart." Leila nodded, as the door clicked shut. She rested back on her pillows, her left hand resting on the now-opened case, fingering the barrel of her gun. "Grove Markus..." she whispered softly. She'd lived with four men for years, and not shown a lick of affection, save genuine friendship, to any of them. Borgoff was too goofy sometimes, too into his role as a Hunter. Nolt was a little too imposing for her tastes. Kyle... hell.. he was a good partner, and one hell of a fighter, but he was an annoying little upstart.
'Have I ever told you... that you're quite irrisistable in that skintight red getup of yours?'
Gah. That and his goofy braid. Leila smiled. But he was friggin' funny. And then.. there was Grove.
Sickly, skeletal Grove Markus. Who was a twig stuck in a mass of clothing and covers. Who had to be hooked to a machine that would keep him alive, when he got really bad. Why had he chosen that to be his weapon? Killing himself each time, only to be brought back from the dead? It had emaciated his body, until you could count every rib, every delicate bone in his arms and fingers. His features were sharp, but handsome. And his eyes... no matter how bad he was feeling, how listless he was, his eyes were always aware. Very keen, and they didn't miss a thing.
Especially when she'd first met D, and he'd saved her life.
'Who.. bandaged the wound? Was it him? The Dunpeal Hunter?'
The pair of them had secrets that no one ever knew. When the other three Markuses went hunting, on that rare occasion when Leila would get relegated to the Tank with Grove, they would talk. Of course, Leila was on edge the entire time, pistol held at the ready, but they would talk. About everything. Where their prey was headed, what sort of trap would Borgoff lay... but mostly it was about life. What would they want to do, when their lives as Hunters were over?
Leila had been given that second chance, to live a new life. And Grove had given his so that she could have that chance. When he was fighting, with his spirit, he was so overjoyed. To have his full strength back, not be trapped in this body that was withering away with every passing battle. It almost looked like he was singing, as he soared overhead, destroying Ghouls, Vampires, Were-Wolves, and a hella-lot 'a Barbarois.
Kyle would cheer, Borgoff would cross his fingers, and Nolt would watch, but Leila... Leila could only smile. It made her nervous, yes, because she never knew if his soul would return each time. But seeing him fight, and be free, it brought a smile to her face.
'Go get 'em, Grove.'
But the one time, the last time, she had seen him in his spirit, he didn't look happy. He died.. saving her. It tugged at Leila's heartstrings... because she never got to tell him how she felt.
And then, as if to spit on the memory of Grove Markus, she went and married. "Trevor... God rest his soul..." she said painfully, her eyes on the ceiling fan, as it turned lazy circles. She would never, EVER admit, not even to herself, that she had loved Grove Markus. Then... then there was D. She would admit, however, that at first, she hated the Dunpeal with every fiber of her being.
'I've seen many terrible things... homes wrecked, families destroyed, hopes crushed... and it always seems... that a vampire is to blame.' He was a Dunpeal. Half of what she despised, half of what had ruined her life at such a tender age.
But his last words to her, as they sought refuge in that tree, they made perfect sense.
'I am a Dunpeal. I don't get a life.' That's when he trained those peircing eyes of his, so full of remorse and sorrow, on her. 'Not like you.'
That's when Leila realized that he was living in his own personal hell. Feared because of his Vampiric side, and hated, because of his Human side. A man caught in an eternal limbo. Never to be accepted, forced to wander, hoping to atone for the illusionary sin he commited, of simply being alive.
'Enough,' she had said, watching D and Meier Link battle in Chaithe Castle. Charlotte Elbourne lay dead at her feet, sacrificed simply because she loved a Vampire. 'Enough of killing, enough of misery, enough of suffering and death. I have had... enough.'
That's when she had started her new life. But always, always would she remember those days. When life seemed to make sense, when her destiny was cut-and-dry. When there was no goal in her life larger than ridding the world of every single Vampire.
Outside her window, she heard something, very faint. The methodic click of hooves against the ground. It was the only noise, save for the rustling of the trees. Turning her head to look at the landscape that unfolded like a painting, she saw the hills, the mountains, and the smattering of trees across the horizon. And there, standing on the main road to the town, a black shape slowly came closer, barely discernable.
"D..." she whispered. If she squinted really hard, she could see something, standing out in all that blackness. A single white rose, held elegantly in his right hand. Leila smiled slowly. "Thank you, D... for keeping... your promise..."
FIN