Shaft was there waiting for them. "Damn foolz," he grinned. "Half of Japan be lookin for your white behinds. And I the one that found you." "Kill him my servant!" Alucard cried, and the sword, appearing again, flew at Shaft. "Like hell!" Shaft cried, and handjived. A red bolt collided with the sword, stopping it in midair. "Yo cracka, you musta fogot, I be the king of black magic, baby." Shaft gestured, and the sword came towards him, settling down at his side. "Now I think I’z gonna bring this to Lord Drac, and see whats down with that." Shaft got on the conveniantly placed motorcycle nearby, and began to drive off. "Villain!" Alucard fumed. "You shall not take my sword!" With an ancient incantation he shimmered, changing his form into a wolf, and shot off after the Dark Priest. He made it about five blocks before an animal control worker jumped him with a taser. He was quickly loaded into a van and driven off. Bob and Plaz looked at each other. "Come on Amano," Bob offered. "I’ll buy you a Coke." ------------------Next!------------------ A fine mess Alucard got himself into! Bats are much cooler-he shoulda transformed into one! But that's beyond the point. He screwed himself over for the time being and now risks certain doom: being put to sleep! Will our bishounen-gone-canine be rescued from the perils of "The Pound"? Will Yoshitaka Amano get his refreshing Coca-Cola? See now, in this crack-headed attempt at a chibi by Greid! ___________________________________________ Castlevania 1970: Disco of Evil Chapter 29: You Ain't Nothin' But a Dhampire or Caffienated Chibi-Fic Gone Horribly Wrong This Chapter "Written" by the neer-do-well: Greid, high on life... and caffiene/sugar goodness Created by this insomniac late at night: Gaijin Dan Mastrani ___________________________________________ He heard noises in the waking world... Alucard sensed his surroundings, despite being halfway unconcious. He whiffed the pungent odor of hundreds of dogs, whether there or gone. He felt like he was lying on the cold cement floor... and he was also lying in something wet. The bishounen snapped awake. He was lying on his back on the forementioned cement floor. Staring up at the ceiling. he groggily tried to reach up and rub his aching head. And he could not. Not because he was tied down or something, or that he was too tired to move, it was that his present canine dexterity didn't go quite that far. He then suddenly remembered his actions from before... ------------------Next!------------------ Yoshitaka Amano sat sketching at a Japanese McDonalds, once in a while, taking a sip of his Coke that Bob had purchased him. Where he found the yen.... idunno. Maybe Bob took up subway money scams or claimed to be Bob Dylan and played guitar outside Konami Headquarters collecting coins... Greid suddenly catches herself rambling, and makes for a cheap laugh. Plaz was sitting across from the Japanese youth, scarfing down one of several burgers laid out in front of her. (He/she/it is in her female form, for all you querying foo's) She munched happily, once in a while, taking a break to glance at Amano's drawings. Noticing Bob was missing, she scanned the fast food restraunt for the Belmont. She blinked a few times, then broke Amano from his furious sketching to go look in the mens' room for him. He sighed, and taking up his sketch pad, he sauntered off to the Little Japanese Boys' room. Plaz resumed binging. Yoshitaka opened the door and peeked inside. Bob was leaning against a wall, whipping stubbornly at the light fixture on the opposite wall, meaning he was somehow deep in thought. Yoshitaka Amano raised an eyebrow, then proceeded over to Bob and in an attempt to get his attention, poked him many, many times. The whip clad youth continued to stare half- thoughtfully, half maliciously at the light fixture. Amano then went to Plan B, resorting to smacking Bob upside the head. Bob snapped to attention while a huge sweatdrop appeared behind his head, "What the hell was that for!?" he screamed at Yoshitaka. Yoshitaka shrugged, "Thinking of how to get Al back, huh?" "Alucard. But you're right," Bob sighed. And to skip more boring and unfunny dialogue, we find our free heroes starting the search for the cursed, half-breed son of Dracula whose human and vampire natures are ever at war with each other and struggles to do good in the face of overwhelming evil. There, I said it, and I'd say it again if I had to. And on with the chibi-fic. ------------------Next!------------------ Dogs surrounded the bishounen-in-wolf-form. A writhing, furry mass of canine entities moved about him, sniffing him in naughty places. His wet fur clung to his back uncomfortably. Alucard hung his head low, with a dogged look of irritation on his face. He almost sweatdropped when a chihuaua started licking him somewhat... lovingly. Not quite suddenly, he had had enough. "Go away!!" he barked viciously at the dogs around him. They took Alucard's inhospitality harshly, and a chorus of growls erupted from the canine crowd. They subsequently backed away, listening to Alucard's wishes. Alucard sat, like a good boy, in the center of the caged enclosure. He blinked in his trademarked, cool, bishounen way and waited for something to happen. ------------------Next!------------------ Plaz was still munching a big mac as she and the two arguing boys strode down the Tokyo sidewalk. Where the hell the dog pound was, they had no clue. ------------------Next!------------------ Death was grinning hard. Or if he wasn't just a skeleton, he would. He strolled down the New York streets with an aire of pride about him. The world was his, almost. After all, he decides who lives and who dies! An exciting job for any undead minion of Dracula. Or he was about to become an undead minion of Dracula again, that is. As he approached the Disco Infernal, he gained a sadder mood when he saw the lovable gaijin, Hecubus, leaning against the wall of the Disco Infernal alleyway with a tin cup of pennies and dryer lint, and wielded a dull metal harmonica. Had Death posessed eyes or even eyelids, he would have blinked in disbelief. Hecubus was asleep, shivering. His head was bowed down so nobody could see his face. But Death knew. Death always knows. He sees you when you're sleeping, and knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or completely horrible to your siblings. He can find a needle in a haystack, and would have been the ideal seamstress. If only he hadn't failed the cooking half of his home econonics class, he would have had enough confidence to settle down and have little baby Deaths. Death approached Hecubus and knelt down. He tossed a dollar in the tin cup and tried to gently shake Hecubus awake. Turns out he killed him with his Touch of Death. ------------------Next!------------------ The author downed a few more Pixy Stix and had another Super Big Gulp-sized Mountain Dew Slurpee. She then continued with her writing, risking her ass with using the big, trademarked words. ------------------Next!------------------ Alucard awoke, damp in his own sweat-it was really annoying since he had fur for the time being. He had those dreams again... the ones depicting Bob and Plaz doing naughty things... and a new element added to it: dogs sniffing him as he watched the two pseudo-lovers go at it. But to add to the horror, he found himself enveloped in that unpleasant mass of sniffing canines. To add to that, they all smelled worse than Alucard did. Of course, with Alucard being in all entirety a bishounen, cursed, half-breed son of Dracula, whose human and vampire natures are ever at war with each other, and struggles to do good in the face of overwhelming evil, he never smelled bad. He always had the stench of some nice cologne or of manly sweat. Anyways, on with the fic! Suddenly, a small, definitely Japanese form burst through the door and screeched to a halt in front of the dog cage. The little girl peered though the bars, scanning the selection of animals. The other dogs had all perked up and were rushing to the little girl outside the cage, wagging tails and loudly barking. But somehow, the girl's eyes became fixed on Alucard. She blinked as she stared into his nearly human eyes. Yet Alucard was unblinking. He sat up, and stretched stiffly from his restless sleep. He then returned the girl's stare. As unemotive as he always was, he just sat there, bishounen. The door opened again, and an older woman, the girl's mother strolled in and knelt down to her daughter, "Which one do you like, honey?" The girl smiled and pointed. "Wolf!" she exclaimed, motioning erratically to Alucard. The bishounen attained a panicked look, all of a sudden. He seeminly "raised an eyebrow" and whimpered. He laid back down on the cold cement and rested his head on his paws, facing away from the young girl. "A husky, huh?" she then stood and exited through the door. A moment later, she reentered with a burly man following her. The woman pointed to Alucard, and the man reached into his pocket to pull out a set of rusty keys. He fumbled with them, and finding the correct one, slid it into the keyhole and opened the gate. A flood of dogs nearly overran him, but he mercilessly beat them back. (Note, such a kind man! Heh.) He thomped over to the bishounen and retrieved a collar and leash from his bottomless pockets. Fastening the collar and leash around Alucard's neck, he turned to the woman, "A pretty boy, eh?" He then led the wolfish dog out of the cage and locked it behind him. He handed the leash to the woman. The girl grinned hard. ------------------Next!------------------ And this will end our BBC broadcast. Author's Notes: I woulda made it a lot longer, more plot oriented, much more descriptive and a lot funnier, but I'm a serious procrastinator. I love writing, but then my own conscience gets in the way, I think, is it good? Is it interesting? Is it in any way, shape or form humorous? Probably not, but then again... I never was an ego maniac. After all, this is my first fic (is it bad? no, I mean it.) so please dun be too harsh... Plus, my own personal Hell (high school) and home life got in the way. In a drastic attempt for me to do my homework, the 'rents confiscate the keyboard. Yep. Embarassing, eh? And you thought you had it bad! The author also apologizes for excessive rambling. Though for her sake, it may prove entertaining. May the Slurpee be with you. Greid May 25, 2001