Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or any character except for Wolf. HA!
He could smell the scent in the air, he could taste it simply by breathing in. The city of Targoviste was surrounded in Tepes's impaled victims. A man wearing a long coat was walking the streets in the darkest hour of night, when something caught his eye. He walked into the light of one of the oil lamps that surrounded the street. A gold cup. How did this get here? Whose was it? He didn't care, who ever had dropped it didn't deserve it for taking such poor care of it. He picked it up and walked away with it. Further down the road he saw a man in light armor staring at him. As he got closer he stopped dead in his tracks and His skin began to pale. Before him stood Kazikili Bey. Vlad Dracul. This was bad, Here he was, a Saxon standing face to face with the very man who sought to kill his people. With an inhuman jerk of his neck Vlad Stared at him with a look that uttered the word bloodlust at its mere sight. Unable to move, all that Wolf could do was stare with disbelieving eyes as the prince of Wallachia gave an inhuman shriek and ran towards him with murder in his own evil eyes. Eyes...eyes...thousands of eyes watched as the evil king was about to sink his teeth into the man's neck.
Then it stopped as Wolf sat up in his bed with a violent jerk. The dream ended. Exactly where it always ended.
There was no time to try to figure that out now. Something was happening outside.
He grabbed his long black coat and his saber and headed out. He walked out and was bathed in moonlight revealing the characteristics of his young face. He had black hair that went a bit past his shoulders, red eyes, a slightly muscular build, and a small beard that resided at the front of his chin.
Looking up in the sky he burned with fury. The night sky gave enough light for him to discern the shape of what looked like the Graf Zeppelin. His fears were confirmed as he saw several figures in familiar German military fatigues. He formed two MG42s from his arms and strode out of the alley his apartment came out in. He looked over the buildings to see the familiar Hellsing estate under siege.
He caught sight of a familiar face. Not one that he wanted to recognize. Captain Hans Günsche.
"Führer Günsche!" He called in a mocking tone that dripped with sarcasm. The Captain stopped and turned around to see the young man, and muttered a curse under his breath.. He then turned around and began walking a bit faster.
"I guess I was right, the bastard wasn't even worthy of death." Wolf thought to him self. "Time to see what's going on."
He turned with a small flail of his coat tail to see line after line of rifle-bearing troops marching towards him. "This ought to be fun."
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