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Vampire
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Darkstalkers
It's always the same... Waking up begins with scenes of unspeakable violence. The moment I regain consciousness, my mind is overwhelmed by the memories of the crimes I have committed. The nightmare began the moment I laid hands on the cursed sword and armor. I was such a fool. Orin tried to stop me, but I laughed off her concerns. The moment I donned the armor, I could feel its power twisting my soul with evil... It was all I could do to tell Orin to run. The cursed armor was real... and no one knew that better than I did now.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!!" That awful laughter filled my ears. The armor had gained awareness, and was speaking to me. It filled me with a cold sensation, and no matter how hard I tried to deafen my ears, or how tight I closed my eyes, the spirit of the armor mercilessly cut into my very soul...
"Blood! Blood! Blood! Blood! Give me more blood!!" Orin... where are you now? I hope you are safe... and I hope you never show yourself to me. If I saw you now, I would no doubt cut you down with a smile on my face. That is the one thing I must not allow to happen.
My vision quickly went from blood red to pitch black as I felt my consciousness slip away. As I fell into the silent darkness, the last thing I heard was a chilling and unfamiliar voice. Whatever the voice had to say, it seemed to perk the armor's interest, as I felt my body shake with laughter...
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Night Warriors
"It is still not enough. I shall not be satiated with such little blood." Bishamon's soul had been completely taken in by evil at this point, and was being controlled by the curse. The cursed armor "Hannya" and the cursed blade "Kien"... the moment he had equipped these cursed items, his body had ceased to be his own. No force on earth could stop him now... the curse demanded more sacrifices.
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Vampire Savior
The cursed armor "Hannya" and the cursed blade "Kien" had cut a wide swathe across the human realm, feeding on the blood, souls, and pain of many victims. The blood of the ones called Darkstalkers had temporarily sated their hunger, and they had left Bishamon, their former host. A few years had passed, however, and they could feel the stirrings of their appetite resurfacing. Their power had grown such that they no longer needed a "host" to take on human form. Taking a lost spirit into themselves, they were able to form their own identity. "I am... yes... I am Bishamon. The evil samurai spirit Bishamon!!" The haunted armor soon found itself in Majigen, where it could smell blood and an endless supply of fresh prey.
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