(A/N): GORE GORE GORE

    The priest spent the whole night in his room checking the old books of chronicles in hopes that maybe some of the scholars had posted something about strange events that would have happened in their times.

'Nothing. These books only talk about the village's finances or birth, marriage and death certificates' thought the priest sighing in exasperation. Only one book was left to read. It was a book lined with dark leather and with decorations in bronze. It was the most marred by age. One could see how the dampness and darkness had provoked the moldiness of the leather, and how some yellowish and rotten pages fell apart when touched.

-"The lineage of Dracule" he read the title.

'Dracule...I've heard about them when I was studying in The Church. It was a lost lineage. They were loyal to The Church but their linage disappeared long ago... If this book is here, does that mean that they lived here?' thinking this he opened the book and started reading.

Ohm's P.O.V.

Holy woke me up in the middle of the night. I had to take him out because he had drink too much at dinner. I've said to Jeanbart that giving too much soup to a dog would end like this: me and Holy walking around the monastery towards the interior garden.

Sleepily we walked through the dark corridors but when we reached the garden Holy stiffened and started growling. I frowned at him and lifted my gaze only to see an ethereal figure. Bathing in the moonlight was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She was dressed with a white spotless nightgown. I gasped at that vision and she turned her gaze to me. She smiled softly and extended a delicate hand towards me. It was like a incantation. I was in a trance, my common sense had flew away and the only thing I could do was walk towards her, ignoring the back tugs that Holy was giving to the bottom of my tunic. I should have heard him. He was trying to protect me like the loyal companion he always had been.

When I took her hand the coldness invaded my flesh, and in her eyes I could see the Death itself. I saw her touching my face with her free hand and then...Black.

Law's P.O.V.

At this day March 9th of 1313 after being 28 hours in labor, Lady Dracule Eloisa Genoveva died at her 23 years. She walked into the warm embrace of the cherubs giving, with her last breath, life to her firstborn. Lady Dracule was buried in the crypt under the altar of the cathedral the 12th of that month. 

Read Trafalgar. This was already one of the latest chapters of the book.

Her widower came to me, Bartholomew Kuma, bishop of this cathedral two days after the Lady's burial with a baby in his arms.

Showing him to me, Lord Dracule asked me to prepare a ritual for the baptism of the child. I must say that I saw hurry and worry in Lord Dracule's eyes. He said that the ceremony should be held as soon as possible. Now that I am writing these chronicles years after, I cannot help but ask myself if Lord Dracule knew something that the rest of us did not. I think this because four days after the baptism of the new Dracule – giving him the name that her late mother had selected,Mihawk- , Lord Dracule was found dead in the crypt, embracing the tomb of his deceased wife.

Four days after his death it was ordered to build a stone coffin with the sculpture of the Lady and the Lord holding hands. And the remains of Lady Dracule were exhumed and transferred to the new tomb along with those of her husband.

Being their little firstborn only 10 days old and already an orphan, in order to save him of being send to an orphanage, the monks, priests and myself decided to take care of the baby Lord.

Chaka's P.O.V.

I was wandering around the monastery in search of my roommate and his pet. He walked Holy out of the room so the dog could do what he needed, but they were taking so much time. As I passed the kitchen I heard some animal whimpers. Walking faster and turning the corner I saw something that made my heart clench. The poor dog limping towards me drenched in blood. He was in an awful condition. He had a closed eye, probably injured, his upper lip ripped and he was missing a hind leg. His white fur was almost completely red, and from where his paw had been, blood dripped, leaving a path of blood down the hall.

He lifted his head towards me and whimpered softly, turning around and walking to the garden. I was sure that something had occurred to Ohm. He would never let anything injure Holy, that old dog had saved his life when Ohm was a child. Wolves attacked him and the dog had protected him with his own body. Since then they always had been together.

Holy saved his life when Ohm was a child and now he was trying to do the same, even if it meant to limp towards his owner and bleed to his death. With his last efforts Holy led me to the garden and towards a body in the middle of it. Whimpering for his last time, the loyal and honorable animal slumped by the side of the motionless human corpse.

I couldn't react, my body was frozen seeing what was displayed before me. It was terrifying.

His corpse was mutilated. His stomach open and his viscera sprawled in the fresh cut lawn. His were hands holding a piece of white fabric and the flesh in his right shoulder was torn off so the bone was showing. His face was contorted in a grimace of pain, his mouth agape in a silent cry and one of his eyes missing.

I snapped out of my trance when I heard a rustle in a bush. I wanted to run but it was too late. The last thing I saw was a bloody nightgown.

Law's P.O.V.

'His handwriting is getting more and more trembling. The author is getting old, that means that he wrote this book through many years' Law thought. That book was a recompilation of almost all the lives of the known members of the Dracule lineage.

'Wait. Here it changes. From here there's other person's handwriting'

Today June 20th of 1330 has been officiated the ceremony of change of bishop and the burial of the past one, bishop Bartholomew Kuma. After leading the cathedral for 58 years, and at the age of 79 years, we bid farewell to the longest-lived bishop in this town. Now I, bishop Rob Lucci as the successor of bishop Bartholomew, am going to take his place and continue with the chronicles.

'So the old bishop died, hm? 79 years...He sure was long-lived. He lived 79 years when the people usually died around 50' He thought and continued reading.

Today September 26th of 1336, being Lord Dracule 23 years old, he came back from one of his hunting trips not with a deer or a bear. Lord Dracule brought with him, wrapped in his cape of reindeer fur, a little baby with no more than 2 months of life.

'He brought back a little baby from the woods?'

Today September 26th of 1349, being Lord Dracule 36 years old and the young Lady Dracule (Y/N) 13 years old, all the town is celebrating the Lady's birthday. The whole village was also reunited in the square to bid farewell to the Lord, and to wish him good luck in the Grand Line battle. He's going to fight in the army of the King, a great honor. So is only left for us to pray for his wellbeing.

'Lady Dracule (Y/N)? ... so he adopted her...'

Today February 29th of 1353 is a day of misfortune. At his 40 years, Lord Dracule came back from war. But he came back sick. We need to pray for his soul.

It has been almost four months since Lord Dracule came back from war. His sickness has spread throughout the whole village. More than the 42% of the town's people has died of it. We continue praying and searching for a solution.

'What disease could be this?'

This sickness is unstoppable. Almost the whole population has died. Only the Lord, the Lady and a few others –including myself- are left.

Today August 2nd of 1353 Lord Dracule Mihawk and Lady Dracule (Y/N) have passed away.

Today August 24th of 1353. Only I am alive. This wasn't a sickness. This was some type of demonic hex I'm sure. I'm the only survivor and I feel like my days are counted... Soon I will reunite with all of them. That day it's coming...

'Here the handwriting changes again. It's a man's. And it's very stylized' noticed the priest.

Bishop Rob Lucci died in August 30th of 1353. His remains are buried in the cathedral's chapel. With him ends the history of this village.

'How is this possible? How –when nobody was alive- could someone write this? ... Could "it" have done it? But this is a man's handwriting, and "it" is a "she"...' That thought baffled him. How was it possible?

Deciding to put a stop in reading and giving his eyes a break, he went for a walk around the place- but this time fully prepared for if "she" wanted to meet him again. Passing the chapel's door he noticed it was opened. Stopping and getting ready for what could be in there, he entered.

-"There's nothing in here..." he sighed.

Out of pure curiosity he searched around the place and saw that, in fact, in a corner of the room was a tomb that read: Bishop Rob Lucci Born June 2nd 1310- Died August 30th 1353. Once more there was a strange thing. He was confused. If you are the last person alive how is it possible for you to be buried?

He walked towards the exit, but before that, he noticed a change in the number of candles in the altar.

-"Three candles are totally melted. They are the ones that had Ohm, Holy and Chaka's names.... What's happening?"

Squinting his eyes, he tried to make his tired mind work.

-"No... No...NO! Why? Why? WHY?!" Realizing the truth he ran towards the monks' rooms to certificate his dreads.

To be continued...

(A/N): Thank you all of you guys for reading and voting this! :)  But I want to give Pincess_Mona_Cupcake, a special thanks! It's because I love reading her comments, they're so funny!! :) You're crazy, girl... but in a good way!