"We should head back already," Durehi Kintaro urged as the skies grew darker around them. "Did you recognize his ka, Julian?"

"Are you scared?" Argos asked with the hint of a smile.

"I’d choose death over running away," Durehi replied, not taking the bait. He was a stubborn old man, so serious it felt like he only had one expression for everything. "We wouldn’t stand a chance if we faced Alucard."

"And are you sure it’s him?" Argos asked delicately. "What proof do we have?"

"Julian met him," Durehi said. "If he says that’s his ka, I don’t need more proof."

"Could you stop calling me by my real name? We gave each other code names for a reason," Akiwok interjected. He had known they’d drag him into the argument sooner or later. He would’ve preferred later.

"Come on, Julian, I’m just not used to it," Argos replied. "I’ve known you for so long, it’s inevitable. These code names are new to me." His voice rang out loudly against the evening breeze along the coast.

"We chose our code names two hundred years ago," Durehi pointed out. "You’re the most worn-out of the three of us, Simon. It’s getting dark."

"Like it does every day around this time," Argos muttered, glancing indifferently at the sky. A few seconds later, he realized what Durehi was implying. "Are you calling me an old man, Taichi?!"

"Don’t say my name! We promised to use our code names."

"Are you afraid Alucard might hear?"

Akiwok could sense the tension around Durehi’s mouth and the barely contained fury in his eyes beneath the thick brim of his Japanese straw hat. Durehi had spent the last forty years in Japan, training young students in kenpo. After Akiwok had saved his life on a mission where he lost an eye, his attitude towards people shifted—even towards his closest comrades. He could no longer tolerate being teased. But it wasn’t just pride that stirred in the old man. Akiwok could almost taste something else, something unsettling, in him—something akin to fear.

Akiwok shared that unease. He had spent the last seven years traveling the world, preparing for this very moment. When the year 2000 had begun, so had his journey. It was the first time he had left his quarters since that fateful mission where he had saved Durehi. Thinking back on that old story turned his stomach. He had been laying the groundwork to maintain world peace. The years had dulled his sense of humor, but he still chuckled occasionally when reminiscing about old adventures. Now a veteran, the looming tension of planning for Alucard’s return no longer frightened him.

At least, not until that night. The night when the chest holding Alucard’s ka was opened by some Japanese fishermen. When the chest was breached, only meters below the stern, fog swirled in eerie waves crashing against the fishing boat. A thick white shroud stretched from horizon to horizon, covering everything. That night, in Durehi’s house, the three old men had felt a strange presence. The darkness took on a hue that made their skin crawl. They had been waiting for this moment for a couple of nights, but no matter how much planning they did, the start of something important always invoked fear. They had prepared and rushed to the coast, following the trace of Alucard’s ka. By the time they arrived, a cold wind blew. Even Argos, who lived in Finland, shivered.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

All through the night, Akiwok had felt watched, stalked by something dark and relentless with no good intentions. Durehi had felt it too. Argos, however, wanted nothing more than to charge full speed toward the distant fishing boat barely visible above the mist. But that wasn’t part of Akiwok’s plan. So they waited.

After all, Akiwok had met Alucard centuries ago.

Argos was the youngest of a large noble family. One of the greatest warriors of his time. Handsome, with gray eyes, gallant, and quick. Nothing could resist his fists. In their adventuring days, he stood head and shoulders above Akiwok and Durehi, who were overshadowed by his effortless charm with women and poetic words. Argos always wore black leather boots, woolen black pants, black gloves with metal tips—like a rockstar—and a well-treated leather jacket. But the years had taken their toll. Unlike his companions, Argos had relied on his sheer will and the strength of his ka to survive to the present day. His body was no longer what it once was, but his spirit remained just as strong, and for that, the gods had rewarded him.

His hair was his pride: long, fine, and smooth as silk. He flaunted it in front of his balding friends. The night fell.

An hour passed, and the sky and sea cleared. Stars appeared, and a crescent moon rose. Akiwok nodded at the celestial body.

"Looks like we’re right on time," Argos said. "We’ve been talking about the plan for a week, and you’ve been planning it for centuries, but we never accounted for Alucard’s ka being so strong. And I warn you, it’s probably weakened by the host he’s chosen from among those fishermen." The old man’s smile couldn’t have been more confident. "Let’s get closer. I want to see the bat warrior with my own eyes."

They made their way to the bay. Given the late hour, the place was deserted. Akiwok leaped from the shore, with so much force that he caused a light breeze. He soared so high that anyone might have thought he was flying. He landed on the fishing boat, waved from a distance. Argos prepared to recreate the leap, but his knees ached as he bent them. No matter how strong his spirit, his body was barely holding up, though he would never admit it. Durehi grabbed him by the waist, muttering a few words in Japanese before making the jump for him.

"I still have strong legs," Argos said as the moon shone down.

"Not with those knees," Durehi retorted, insolent with fear. "Shall the old man continue his crusade?"

Argos didn’t bother to reply. He stopped for a moment, gazing into the distance with a reflective look. The cold wind blew.

"Something’s wrong," Durehi murmured.

"Really?" the long-haired old man said with a smug grin.

"Can’t you feel it?" Durehi asked. "The darkness…"

The area around the fishing boat was pitch black with only flickers of light. Despite their age, their vision was sharp, and the stars should have provided enough light to see by. But in mere seconds, their sight was swallowed, as if their eyes had shut.

"We need fire, some light," Argos suggested.

"No, we don’t." Akiwok pressed his lips together. "Durehi will guide us."

The floor was damp and muddy, slick. Eight bodies lay scattered across the deck. All men. One held a large wrench, big enough to knock someone out. It was on the ground, near his hand. A couple of the bodies were seated, but most were sprawled out, as if asleep.

Argos touched a few bodies, confirming they were dead, though there wasn’t a trace of blood anywhere.

"What could’ve killed them, Akiwok?" Durehi asked, adjusting his hat.

"The darkness," Akiwok replied with grim certainty. "In my youth, I saw men die in darkness. The shadows dissolve them like the cold when it invades your body, fills you with calm, slows you down, and finally drains your strength. It makes you feel like you’re going to sleep, but it kills you. They say at the end, there’s no pain. First, you’re weak and sluggish, everything turns hazy, and then it’s like sinking into the ocean."

"Such eloquence, Julian," Argos remarked. "Those chats with me have really improved your way with words."

"I was trapped by darkness once, Simon." Akiwok rolled up his sleeve to reveal a scar on his forearm, shaped like a campfire. "That’s when I got this. I made it out alive. My master Hanzo saved me, and this is how I got it. I think I told you once."

"I don’t remember," Argos shrugged.

Everything went dark in a blink, only to be revealed again by starlight—and the bodies were gone. Each of the old men felt their hearts skip a beat.

A laugh echoed on the wind.