Vampire Hunter D: The Scorned Woman

Disclaimer: This is my second tribute to Shallowswan; it is an AU version of a scene from her story Pale. I own neither D nor the character Asenath; both of those are the properties of their respective owners. This is purely a not for profit story. Enjoy.

There was really no way to ignore it or to sugar coat it, Asenath was ugly. She wouldn't describe herself as ugly but, trust me, she was.

Asenath of eighteen years of age was a woman with no ties to anybody or anything. In her possession was an atomic powered motorbike capable of travelling the speed of sound. She'd bought the bike at an auction where they sold off the goods of dead vampires. Only a vampire was capable of designing something as impractical as a vehicle which goes the speed of sound.

Any kind of crash at that speed and no matter what you are, human or vampire, you'd be squashed into oblivion.

Back to the dear, well not dear, girl. Asenath was ugly and there was no escaping it. Her body was curved and sensuous, but that might have been from eating too many refined sugars normally intended to feed cybernetic animals. At any rate, Asenath could have afforded to drop a couple of pounds.

Her breasts were large and might have been spectacular if not for a poorly done rose tattoo on one of each of her slightly sagging orbs. Her massive bazookas were held up by wire bra that cut into her and left sore red marks and wrapped in a silken outfit that was fashion.

The worst part of Asenath's physiology was her face. Her features were coarse and mannish, her brow was heavy, her strong jaw was mannish and her eyes were like muddy pools.

Asenath's hair was nice though, if she ever combed it. A tangle of russet colored hair fell to the girl's waist. Asenath adamantly refused to have her hair cut due to traumatic experiences in the past.

With all these flaws punching holes in the balloon of her beauty, one would think that Asenath never got laid. That, my friends, is pure nonsense. Asenath, in laymen's terms, "Got laid a lot!"

The fact of the matter is, there are groups of men out there who are sexually attracted to anything, it's all a matter of finding the right demographic. There are groups of men out there in the wide, wide world who are willing and eager to have sex with women that are badly overweight, who are missing a limb or more, who have cancer, might be bald, used to be men. Likewise, there was a demographic of people who liked to have sex with Asenath or somebody who looked like her.

Despite the fact that she got laid, "a lot," Asenath was far from lucky. Just because because people want to have sex with you doesn't mean that you want to have sex with them. Asenath had the rotten luck of attracting the wrong crowd.

Whether she was having sex for money or other reasons, Asenath had been fucked by the very worst elements of society. Many of the guys she bedded were ugly, smelly, old, a vampire, sadistic, and sociopathic or some combination of the above. Asenath had also had sex with women, who were just as bad as the men if not worse.

If you asked her yourself, Asenath would tell her that the worst and most painful lover had been the lesbian werewolf with syphilis

But did Asenath complain, not on your life. She merely drifted through life on a string of lovers, her heart hardened by cynicism and the harsh reality of life.

Today though, none of that mattered, not a bit. The woman of eighteen years of age who had been spurred and scorned her entire life had now found a man that she didn't feel revulsion or hate for. That man haunted her every thought and dream. It was as if God was giving this man to her as compensation for all of the losers and fuckheads that had filled her bed and her cavities since she was thirteen.

The person in question was none other than the legendary Vampire Hunter D, the man himself. Word around town is that two hundred years ago he saved the world. Today, no name is more famous than vampire Hunter D. His exploits are celebrated by poets, writers, actors, directors, animators and mangakas.

Asenath would finally corner D and make him love her, and then they would be happy.

Hardly any vampires are left in this world, but D is far from lax. He was hunting and it is big game he's after. D was hunting no less than the great big boss of the vampires, his own daddy.

For the last three months now, D had been stalked by some ugly girl that he'd caught screwing a vampire. D put a sword through the Noble's heart and intended that to be the end of it. Apparently though, the girl was enamored with D.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd had a stalker, but it'd be the first time he'd had one so persistent. It was his ridiculous beauty.

D hated being as beautiful as he did. He hated it when all the girls gasped and turned into jelly at the sight of him. Badly, D wanted to tell all those droves of admiring girls that he wasn't interested. Some days, he could ignore them. On other days it took D's all not to rip off somebody's head and hiss at the survivors. All he wanted was to be left the fuck alone.

D's persistent need for isolation had only increased after the love of his never ending life had died in the most gruesome fashion imaginable, courtesy of his father. The old monster would never be satisfied, his diseased mind would never cease to concoct ever more elaborate ways to torment his son.

More than ever, it was necessary to stamp out the Sacred Ancestor. In the past centuries, the image of D's long dead love appeared to him in dreams and gave him essential clues to finding and defeating his father.

Now though, the voice of that one perfect woman had grown silent. In his desperation, D increasingly resorted to drugs and hallucinogenic compounds to hear that sweet voice. No matter how much he seemed to shoot into his veins, dear Luna never appeared.

He just had too much to worry about to even care about that stupid girl that was stalking him.

Asenath looked at the castle; it was the apotheosis of all Noble architecture, big, beautiful, opulent and intimidating. Despite the fact that the castle had been built from materials which would last for ten thousand years without maintenance, the giant edifice was crumbling. Nature and the elements were breaking down the castle structure faster than its Noble builders had anticipated.

For three months, Asenath had watched D going in and out of the castle hauling various armloads of plants.

One time, Asenath had been D hauling a sack full of hell lilies. That was some serious shit, in its pure form the hell lily was capable of frying even the brain of a vampire.

If D was doing drugs, she had to put a stop to it. Having had no permanent home since the age of five, Asenath had seen what happened to drug addicts during her tenure on the streets. Addicts were literally eaten alive by their chemical dependence.

It was all very clear in her mind, she'd go up there and confront D about his problem is he had one. At first he might be angry but as he was rehabilitated he would show her gratitude. Gratitude would bloom into love and Asenath would have somebody that she cared about other than herself. It would be romantic, her own little gothic romance. D would be the silent, stoic groom and she'd be the talkative, lively bride.

Surprisingly, the castle door wasn't locked and all the security systems were either deactivated or didn't function. It was like walking into Stephen King's Dark Tower series, all around you the splendor of ages past was worn and decaying, the supposedly permanent slo-trans engines were on their last legs.

Asenath pondered the lack of security, but then she remembered who it was she was gunning for. This was D's abode after all; the man had gone and laid a curb stomp on the dreaded Cthulhu two centuries ago. Any man that could do that could certainly defend himself.

The castle was completely dark, but Asenath's eyes would pick out a flickering light.

D was a mess. If you were ever to lay eyes on him, you'd weep at the sight of him. That proud and cruel dhampir now lay on the floor of this centuries old bathroom with his head in the toilet and vomit all over the floor.

The latest batch of drugs had reacted poorly with D's system. He'd gotten his high, but no vision came. For all of his efforts, all D got was a crash. The crash had made D's guts squirm like snakes and agonies cripple his nerves.

Vomit was everywhere except for the dry toilet bowl where D's head currently lay. His normally luxuriant hair was flat and dull. The drugs and his own harsh lifestyle were taking their toll on D after all the years of perfection. D could feel every bite, bullet, blade, arrow, tooth or claw that had ever wounded him.

Now, D mercifully lay in oblivion. Had he been human, he'd have suffered from a broken jaw. In his right hand there was a syringe, now empty.

Dreamscape

In dreams that were neither happy nor sweet, D tumbled forward like the fabled Alice down the rabbit hole.

Before him stood his own father, decked out in one of his typically flamboyant costumes. Dracula stood there in a black and red plaid jacket. Underneath the jacket he wore a yellow dress shirt and a red tie with a wide open eye stitched on it.

Going with this loud clothing scheme was completed with a pair of charcoal slacks with Mickey Mouse on them and wingtip shoes. On his head, Dracula wore a large, floppy hat.

D cringed; his father looked like a homicidal golfer. Every little thing he did pushed D's buttons and Dracula relished it.

Pulling out a large, gaudy pocket watch, he said, "Screw the watch, I've got all the time in the world. But that doesn't apply to you, son. Come on, for old time's sake, give your old man another chase."

Dracula was gone. D was left alone.

"D, is that you?"

D knew that voice, it was the musical lit of his human mother.

His mother rushed toward him, her sweet smell filled his nostrils. "OH D, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed.

Though she hugged him, D did not return the gesture. He was as stiff and emotionless as he was around strangers.

When he did move, it was not a gesture of love he gave Mina. D got his hands from his father, the fingers were long and spider like. He began to strangle his mother and he was enjoying it.

Mina gurgled and her eyes bugged but D's python grip did not relent. D's neck muscles stood taught, twelve thousand years worth of anger and hatred stood clear on his face, overpowering his preternatural beauty. The dhampir's beautiful face was a hideous theater mask made after the likeness of a demon.

Vaguely he recalled that he loved his mother, but why? She'd been nearly a horrible a parent as Dracula. Dracula tried to bend D out of shape, make his son as monstrous as himself. But Mina had emotionally neutered D. She'd beaten any ability to have a meaningful emotional relationship out of her son.

D wanted to get back at the witch for all the ways that she'd screwed him up. He gritted his fangs as Mina's face turned blue and her struggled weakened. Oh yes, that's what he wanted to see. He wanted to strangle the bitch until her eyeballs popped out and rolled around on the stupid linoleum floor of their old home.

D grinned as his mother's eye sockets burst out of their skulls burst out of their skulls but still it wasn't enough.

Then he woke up.

D blinked and his mother was gone. In his mother's place was that stupid girl that had been stalking him. Apparently in his drug induced weariness, he's begun to strangle her and he just thought it was his mother.

Speaking of strangling, he should probably let go of the girl before she suffocated.

D's spiderlike hands let go of Asenath's throat and he watched her gasp for air. Thankfully, he hadn't been squeezing as hard as he had during the dream, otherwise the poor girl would be six feet under by now.

Leaving Asenath to gather her breath, D stood up and sat down on the rim of the centuries old toilet bowl. Vampires didn't need toilets but many of their servants did. It was a shame that the air fresheners had broken down, this room really reeked.

D spoke to the girl, "I'm sorry, but I'm told that when I strangle people I'm sexy."

Asenath didn't have enough breath to say so, but she agreed. She'd been strangled before by kinky lovers but she'd never been so turned on by it until D had tried it.

D signed, he wasn't as young as he used to be. Ever since Luna's death, he just didn't have as much energy as he used to and his temper was much shorter. He felt old.

Asenath looked at D and trembled. She'd had this thing all planned out, the angle of her approach, what she's say to D and how she would say it. But now, she was nothing but a babbling idiot before his awesome beauty. Edward Cullen, eat your fucking heart out.

Trembling, she noticed that D still had some vomit on the side of his mouth. If he asked her to, she'd gladly lick it off. Instead though, she timidly handed D a tissue from her pocket.

D took the tissue without saying thank you and wiped himself off.

Asenath couldn't look away as D discarded the used tissue on the floor. "What were you doing here?"

D made Asenath feel like a preteen girl in a sex-ed class being asked an embarrassing question. "I love you," she squeaked.

D brushed the long hair out of his eyes, "Go home."

His words cut her, "I don't have a home."

D saw the hurt on her face; he just didn't give a damn. "There are over a thousand rooms in this castle. Choose one and stay there if you like, just keep out of my way."

Horror filled Asenath's heart, this wasn't right; this wasn't how it was supposed to be. D couldn't be this cold. Nothing that beautiful could have a hideous heart lurking within. She tugged at his hand like a small child, "Please….you don't even know my name. You don't know anything about me. Just…give me a chance before you throw me away. You killed the only man who didn't throw me away."

D blinked, "I take it you're referring to that vampire I killed. I had been following your beloved around for weeks. He was a truly valuable Noble; therefore I expect he is not truly dead. Asenath, get out of here."

A startled gasp was pulled from the girl as she heard the dhampir say her own name; it seemed far too flawed of a name to be passing through his lips. "I never loved R.H. I only wanted him because he seemed to want me; he gave me a place to stay. You're the one that I love D."

D rolled his eyes, if he had a nickel for each time he'd heard similar words. Women didn't seem to understand that there were times when men had no desire. "Leave, or I'll stab you in the eye with that needle."

After Luna's death, D's willingness to employ violence had only increased.

"No," Asenath was adamant, her confidence returning to her. Before her man she needed to appear strong and confident. D would only take the very best women for himself, Asenath faced some stiff competition.

Standing up, Asenath planted herself firmly on D's lap and pressed her voluminous boobs into his face. D didn't even flinch. "Just let me repay you." Her hands started to gently caress D's neck.

A minute passed by but D still hadn't spoken. "Um, D, are you listening?"

D's voice was muffled by Asenath's baby feeders, "I'm suffocating."

"Oh! Oh shit, I'm sorry D, can you forgive me."

D took in a deep breath as Asenath removed her chest. "Yes, I can forgive you, just get out of here."

Panting she moved her hand across his muscled chest, caressed his neck and his face, "Please, give me a chance D."

"Stop this."

Asenath was in full swing now. All those years working at a strip bar were coming in handy. She was giving D the best lap dance that she'd ever given. Any other man would have blown in his pants by now, but this was D.

As Asenath started to undo the lace of her top, D still didn't move. D's little sausage was flaccid, despite Asenath doing her best to give it a pull.

Something inside broke. "Oh, what the hell, I've got nothing better to do anyways. My father burned all the books I liked. Do whatever you want with me, or leave, I don't care."

Flashback

During his childhood, D found himself many times in this position. He was shirtless, chained up and at the mercy of his father. On the sidelines, Renfield stood ready with two wires hooked up to a pair of car batteries.

Dracula had no sense of fashion, he just dressed however he wanted. Today he was dressed up like an overdramatic version of a World War Two era American lieutenant, officer's cap perched to the side of his head. The only part of Dracula's wardrobe that stayed the same were his stupid white gloves.

D had been in his room, just reading. D liked to read, it was one of his favorite pastimes. D loved romance novels. It was his favorite thing to see people fall in love and to see love overcome adversity.

His father on the other hand, preferred to read about tales of wanton butchery and slaughter. It was as if Dracula couldn't fit enough violence and cruelty in his life and so he tried to fit as much of it as he could into his reading list.

Numerous times, Dracula would give his favorite books to his son to read. These books turned D's stomach with their gruesome and quite often bizarre content.

D wanted to cry, it was because of his father's need to control every aspect of his son's life that he was now burning his son's collection of books.

Dracula spoke down to his son as he threw books onto the barbecue, "The Twilight series, The Vampire Chronicles, The Nightworld novels and a dozen other sickeningly saccharine books that ought to make any self respecting vampire puke his guts out. How you're able to read these and other estrogen charged books is beyond me."

D wanted to talk tough but he just couldn't get the words out the way he wanted them too, "Please don't burn them, I like those books."

Dracula leered, "If you liked shoving a tampon up your ass I wouldn't allow you to keep on doing that. From now on, you'll only read books that I approve of and you'll grow into a proper vampire."

"But I'm not a vampire, I'm a dhampir!" D fought the tears as Interview with the Vampire was thrown into the flames with Midnight Sun.

The Sacred Ancestor had to concede with his son, "You are not a full blown vampire, but you drink blood and that's good enough for me."

D pleaded with his papa, "What about mother, what does she have to say about this?"

More books went up in flame, "Your mother was the one that tipped me off to these foolish works. She's ashamed that you're filling up your head with romantic fantasies such as these."

Mother had betrayed him. Mother was always there to shield him from father's depravity, now D saw that he didn't even have that anymore. He started to openly cry even though he was fifteen years old.

"He's crying. Hit him again, Renfield!"

D stopped crying when his father's servant electrocuted him. Crackling electricity and fire made the perfect accompaniment to D's howls of pain.

End Flashback

D really didn't remember much of what Asenath did. She gave him a blowjob, it was a good one.

What D really did care about was the fact that in mid blowjob a vision had come to him. He now had the clue he needed to keep on hunting his father. D had no further need for the ugly girl, Asenath.

He walked back and forth, gathering up his gear and spare syringes. He'd already become addicted to his chemical brews. He flew back and forth, completely ignoring the protests of the naked Asenath.

"Hey, D could you . . . wait, D . . . hold it . . . STOP!"

Cloak waving about him and hat on his head, D spun around, "What?"

"Aren't you going to . . . to . . ."

D cut the foolish girl off, "To what? I own you nothing. You were nothing but a dalliance and a waste of time. I've spent too long here already, I'm leaving. Don't try to follow me."

"You're just like all those other men," Asenath accused the object of her obsession. This was wrong, everything was all wrong. She'd all but offered her heart on a platter to him and he threw her aside like a used condom when he had no further need of her.

D started to strap his sword to his back, "Go home."

"I haven't got any home, you cunt, you shit, you . . . !" Asenath couldn't express the depth of her rage.

D didn't care; he began to stride down the steps of the caste and towards the entrance. Asenath ran behind him, struggling frantically to get her clothes on.

He was halfway through the door when she caught him by the shoulder. "D, I love you."

For a moment, D froze. He looked like a beautiful tribute to cruelty, carved in unearthly materials. He pointed a finger at Asenath, "Go back to your home at the bottom of the Loch, Nessie."

Asenath froze, no other insult ever had or ever would cut her as deeply as that. Adding insult to injury, D slammed the castle door on Asenath's outstretched fingers. She screamed in agony.

Slowly she pulled her mangled hand from the door, her fingers were broken and she was bleeding. Cradling her injury, Asenath cried and cried as she'd never done before.

D sped down the road on a cyborg horse. He was probably the last man in the world to use a cyborg horse, but he didn't care. D was too busy trying to ignore that silly little parasite in his hand.

"D, I mean, come on, that was cruel. That was cruel even for your father. You should go back there and apologize to that girl right now." The hand might be coarse at times but it wasn't heartless.

The dhampir hunter spoke to the hand, "Never speak to me, you have nothing that I wish to hear. I only keep you around because you are a useful tool. When I want your opinion I'll ignore it. For now, shut up."

Lefty was so shocked that he couldn't even come up with a witty repartee, "I hope you fail, dhampir." And the hand was silent.

Asenath woke up feeling like utter shit. Her eyes were puffy and she was dehydrated from crying. To her surprise, her hand didn't hurt. Somebody had bandaged her hand after applying a topical pain reliever.

Who could have done this? There was nobody in the castle but her, right?

As if on cue, Asenath heard the noise of a large denomination bill being crinkled. Opening her puffy eyes, she saw a tall vampire playing with a fifty dala bill. The vampire's voice was calm, measured and smooth voice with a strange, musical accent. "Are you awake, pale one?"

The vampire was handsome, almost as much as D. But this vampire would never have droves of women jumping at him. More likely he'd scare every woman he came across with his psychotic eyes, Cheshire cat grin and maniacal expression. He looked like he was pure evil.

The style of the vampire's clothing was odd, a long black coat, shiny black boots, top hat and black and white polka dot tie. Other than his tie, the only white on him was from his cotton gloves.

Asenath backed away from him, she had a unique immunity to vampire bites but she didn't want to risk him digging those huge chompers into her hide. "Who the hell are you?"

The vampire strutted forward, "I'm the guy that fixed your hand. If that doesn't satisfy you, I'm the King of the Nobles. Greetings and salutations." He reached out to shake Asenath's hand but she shrunk back further.

"What the hell do you want?"

Dracula smiled, his facial expression sent shiver up Asenath's spine, "What do I want? I only want a little company. I've been very lonely for the last two hundred years."

Asenath sneered, "You want to use me."

In his gentlemanly voice, "I don't want to use you, I only desire your consenting company. Besides, it looks like you could use the money."

She frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I saw an atomic bike outside that looked like its tires had been slashed by a sword."

Asenath seethed, "D!" It wasn't enough for him that he'd humiliate and used her; he had to total her bike as well! She never paused to consider that it was the vampire who had dealt the damage to her bike.

Dracula pretended to be shocked, "D, you mean the famous hunter, he was here?"

Asenath snarled, "Yes, that baby raping sack of shit was here. I wish he was still here so that I could fucking castrate him."

The King of Vampires nodded, "I know what you mean. D has also done me a great injustice as well. He killed somebody very close to me."

Asenath had little time for the complaints of a vampire, "Cry me a fucking river. I've got my own shit to worry about."

Dracula folded the bill in his hand, "Since we obviously both hate D, I propose a partnership."

The chesty girl was surprised; a vampire proposing a partnership with a human was unheard of. So was a vampire bandaging a human's hand. "What's in it for me?"

Dracula had a grin on that could kill newborn babies, "Why my dear, you are a scorned woman. I know just as well, a girl such as you would be very useful against the abomination that is my dear son. He humiliated you terribly…surely you want to retaliate?"

"I want to destroy him!"

Dracula clapped his hands like an excited toddler and giggled hysterically, "Good, very good! But first." He trailed off and placed the bill into Asenath's cleavage.

The girl sighed, she had long gotten used to the feeling of guys sticking money in between her breasts but she never enjoyed it. "What do you want?"

"Only thinking of me, how thoughtful. Do you do pony play?"

Asenath looked at him in disgust, "Hell no!"

Dracula slipped another bill into Asenath's cleavage, "Sorry, I didn't hear that."

"Sure, I'll do pony play." This was going to be hell.

The Sacred Ancestor's beatle boots danced on the floor like a character in a children's cartoon, "Oh, splendid! Do you mind if I do a little bit of strangulation?"

"What are you, sick?"

Dracula slipped a thousand dala bill in with the other bills, "Excuse me, my hearing is not what it used to be."

Asenath couldn't take this anymore, "If I do all the weird sexual things you want, can we then get revenge on D?"

The coarse vampire nodded, "Naturally, we'll pile the pain onto my son. We'll beat his testicles with a willow switch, we'll hammer nails into his skull, we'll slice off his Johnson with bolt cutters and that's just the warm up!"

Yes, that's what Asenath wanted to hear. She wanted to see D suffer for spurning her. He remained the object of her obsession, only she was obsessed with revenge now.

Dracula reached into his coat, Asenath thought he was reaching for more money. Instead he pulled out a toy. "Do you know what this is?"

Sure, she knew what it was. Dracula was holding the latest Vampire Hunter D action figure. Those things talked, moved and sword fought. "Yeah, I know what it is."

Dracula's expression was no longer playful. He was mad, "My son is an action figure, AN ACTION FIGURE!" The force of his outburst shocked Asenath. "I'm the King of Vampires but I can't get the time of day from your run of the mill vampire. But my son IS AN ACTION FIGURE!!!!! HE KILLS MY MINA, SCRATCHES MY SABATON ALBUM AND VANDALIZED MY CAR, BUT NOW HE'S AN ATION FIGURE? I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL VAMPIRE HUNTER D!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

In his rage, Dracula pressed the action figure to his face and growled at it. Effortlessly, Dracula began to squeeze. The doll attempted to protest but it didn't get far.

SPROING!

The doll's head popped off, held to the body by a spring. Several seconds passed as Dracula snorted like a raging bull.

Suddenly he dropped the doll and turned to Asenath, "Would you like me to take you to dinner before we make sweet love?"

Asenath was having second thoughts about a partnership with the Sacred Ancestor. Based off what she'd seen, he didn't look like a stable, balanced individual. Earlier, she would have moved the moon and the stars to have D be hers. Now she would move the moon and the stars to revenge herself on D. An alliance with Dracula was a nescessary evil, "Can we go out for noodles?"

Dracula once more painted himself as a gentleman, "Perish the thought, we'll get you a nice steak with a side of organic vegetables. And when we're done our play, I'll feed you a sugar cube if you're good."

Asenath grimaced, "Okay then." She hoped that revenge on D would be worth it.

I'd like to thank all of my readers and reviewers. I had a great deal of fun adapting and personalizing Shallowswan's magnificent work. If you have the chance, check out her profile and review if you have the time. In the meanwhile, stay beautiful everybody :)

Ta

Master of teh Boot