So much for her. She cowered, feeling a cool trickle down her face reach her trembling lips. Tears sprung to her icy blue eyes.
"No! Get away! Don't touch me!" she whimpered, lashing out with her fist against the unyeilding, icy-flessed face. Two glittering red eyes scowled down at her from the jeering white masklike face.
"You aren't going anywhere," the man leered, pushing her arms down and shifting to kneel on them so that she was pinned. His stark white hands pushed her shoulders down against the floor and he shifted his legs to press down hers into the sticky pool of blood that was forming around her. She struggled, trying vainly to throw him despite his strength.
"No, no, get off! Don't! No, get off me! No, leave me alone! No!" her head lashed wildly. Her hair was matted with her own blood, and she squirmed under the leering figure. As he pressed her down she gasped in pain.
"I'm going to enjoy playing with you! First I'll take my time raping you, then I'll drain every last drop of your delicious blood, really slowly!" The white-faced figure leaned down to her, sneering. "NO!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face as she struggled. "Oh, yes, that's how it goes! You're my chewtoy! And I'm going to break you into tiny pieces when I'm done with you!"
"NO! No, no, no, no, no!" She was squirming around, trying to break his unforgiving grip, but to no avail.
Then there was a tiny click. He stiffened nervously but he didn't seem too worried.
"I think you've had enough fun, maggot!" sneered a voice from the thick shadows of the bare plaster-walled room. "Why do all the worthless punks have such a fixation on rape? You'd think they'd just savour their last mouthfuls of blood, hmm girl?" A black gun with inscriptions on the side touched the man's head as a new figure stepped forward. A big red hat, malicious red eyes glittering behind yellow sunglasses, a long red greatcoat and black vest and white shirt, the look finished by shiny black boots, a red satin necktie/bow and white gloves. The pale man kneeling on her shifted nervously and sniffed.
"What's this? You're a vampire! Why are you threatening your kin?" His tufted black hair seemed to prickle. He'd finally understood the threat.
"You buffoon! The real problem with your kind is that you go on killing sprees whenever the fancy hits you!" sneered the red-clad newcomer disdainfully.
"Why should that matter?" drawled the black-haired one who had the girl pinned. "After all, they're inferior to us! They're meat for us to feed on!"
"You worthless cockroaches are worth far less than them! And besides, if every vampire decided that he could rampage whenever the urge took them, humans would die out, therefore so would we! Shortsighted lowlife!"
The red-clad man paused, seeming to think on whether or not to continue. "Besides… I can't disobey my orders. That would be dishonourable," he grinned, showing sharp, elongated canine teeth.
His attention once again flipped to the girl, ignoring the foppish stammering of the man kneeling on her.
"You a virgin?" he asked her. She nodded weakly, to numbed by what she saw to do anything else, the question not really occuring to her as important. She saw… Fangs. That was the one trait the two men seemed to have to each other, the shockingly long canine teeth that glittered frostily in the dim, vague light. The man who knelt on the girl crouched down on her, his head close to hers as if to spring away, and seeing her chance, the girl lashed out with her head. There was a loud thunk as their skulls collided through thin layers of flesh. The man leaned back on his haunches, and his head lolled backwards in shock as he roared in anger and pain.
"Aagh! You little—"
Click. Boom. Sprinkling sounds filled the room as pieces of flesh and blood rained down, the flesh turning to dust as the man collapsed. The pale man had time to look at the smoking hole in his chest before his face collapsed into dust. But the girl's triumphant face transformed as her lungs and stomach exploded with agony.
"Sorry, girl, but a gun like this leaves a big hole. It went through the trash's flesh faster than I expected. You've just lost the bottom of both your lungs, pieces of kidney, almost your entire liver and the main section of your stomach."
His eyes were distant with flashing memories.
She looked weakly at the hole in her stomach, or rather the lack of stomach. She felt so… heavy. And the pain had already become a dangerous numbness that seemed somehow worse than the pain. Somehow this complete stranger, this man looming over her with the fangs and the psychotic smile seemed comforting, as if he were some all-powerful creature that was protecting her while she died. She concentrated on the seeping feeling in her torn lungs, the strangely cool sensation as blood trickled into the inside of her lungs and she looked, rather blankly, at this insane godlike thing that was watching her.
"Well then, girl, you're going to die without my help, or," he flashed a toothy, warm grin at her, "you can come with me. The choice is yours."
She loooked up at him pleadingly and in response he came very close to her. He knelt beside her and lifted her slightly, deep red eyes fixed on an innocent, icy-blue gaze.
"You're supposed to close your eyes now," he murmured softly with a gentle smile. Her reply was a snort, which sprayed blood over her face, and a weak grin. Tears sprung to her eyes. She knew what he was now. It had taken her panic-riddled brain until now to realize, but she knew.
She leaned her head back, a symbol of trust; this bared her neck to him.
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"Alucard! Report your status!"
The girl's head jerked up as those four words were barked close to her ear. She opened her eyes blearily, and immediately the whole night unfolded in her mind. The red-clad man was holding her, wrapped in a grey blanket, carrying her 'bridal style' with a contented grin on his face.
"I said report your status, Alucard!" the voice snapped again. It was from behind them. The girl, nestled against his chest comfortably, felt the annoyance radiate from whoever was behind him like heat from a furnace. Actually, she thought groggily, whoever it was did radiate some heat, and an incredible, sumptuous smell. She could sense heat and smell coming off everything. The red-clad man holding her, presumably called 'Alucard', turned around to look at the one barking orders. A group of anxious police Special Unit agents stood, looking warily at him from behind another. Long, straight platinum blonde hair with bangs and a pair of round, silver-clasped glasses framing cool blue eyes struck a chord of remembrance in her mind. Like her reflection, if it was aged a few years and given glasses to wear, the girl pondered fuzzily.
"Hmm, yes, sorry. Target elimiated. No survivors."
"Alucard, you didn't—"
"I couldn't help it."
"She looks just like—"
"Intriguing, don't you agree?"
"And is she a…?"
"Oh yes, without a doubt."
"How did the seals allow that?"
"It was her choice."
"I suppose if it will distract you from your memories of—" The woman stopped, as if she had mentioned some painful reminder to both of them. She sighed, and turned away. "Go get some rest, and explain to your new one what she has become." She sighed again, and strode to a black limousine parked beside the D-11 tent. "Teach her, Alucard. Tragedy is a horrible thing, so make sure there is none this time."
Her head jerked up sharply, and she looked suddenly angry and guilty. There was a long pause as the red-clad man stood in offended silence.
"…Alucard… I'm, I…" She shook her head and sighed. Her voice low, she muttered, "It was uncalled for. I apologise."
He scowled deeply, rage eminating from him in waves.
"Then why did you say it?" He snarled in a cracked whisper. He glared at her for a moment, and then he spat on the ground by his feet.
"Respect is for those who deserve it; attacking my honour is disgusting. You've created a whole new low for yourself."
The woman shook her head sadly and, slid into the limousine through the opened door. Her gloved hand pulled the door closed and the limousine slid like a big cat into the night.
The red-clad man watched the limousine for a moment, and then he turned his vermilion eyes down to the girl in his arms.
"This was a perfect night, wasn't it?" She whimpered and nuzzled into his chest with a look of pain.
"Just like her…" he whispered to himself, and gave a small smile.
"Sleep." He ordered sharply, and the girl drifted to sleep.