V for Vampire, a hellsing fanfic

"Remember, remember the fifth of November..." You all know the quote. And, obviously, this is a Hellsing/V for Vendetta fusion thing. I pretty much just shoved two things that I like into a blender, pressed puree, and this is the baby I got. ... Yes, that was sorta a baby-in-a-blender joke. I figured this would be either perfect for Halloween, or the days before the Fifth of November... since it's late for the Halloween thing, I'm doing it for the Fifth, which might be slightly more appropriate.

I do not own Hellsing, nor do I own V for Vendetta. They belong to their respective Authors/Directors/Publishing Companies. I am making absolutely NO money on this fanfiction, nor do I want money for writing it.

...

... The only thing I want money for is selling my sanity to PRODUCE this story.

Special thanks to Macy-chan (Starring Lady G), the love of my life -cough-, for beta-ing this for me.

On with the story. Enjoy.

Aaaand... ACTION!

V for Vlad

The man wasted away several of his enemies, fighting hard, and fast. He let his fury at what they had done to him several years ago channel through his body and against his foes. It seemed so long ago… but it was still a reason to fight. One, fight for one-hundred. Ten, fight for one-thousand. One-hundred, fight for one million. Every man that was on his side had fought, and each one of them had died for their country's freedom. With his small numbers it wasn't long before he finally lost all his men, but the man kept fighting. He may have lost the battle, but he had won his own personal war. He got his point across; they knew he would not be captured without a fight. He was the prince of his country; of course he could not back down.

When the man's enemies did indeed capture him, their own numbers had diminished greatly. Nonetheless, the man fell. On his knees, he was, panting, bleeding, yet still snarling and holding his sword to his side, as if he would get up and fight more. But the blood loss got to him, and he fell to his side, unconscious. His enemies swarmed him, and dragged his body to a wagon, leaving his comrades to the carrion crows that had been circling the now bloodied battlefield for some time now. They'd get plenty to eat now.

So now, the prince was back in the clutches of his enemy. They sealed his wounds, yes… but only to create smaller, yet somehow more painful wounds. His healing wounds ached as he was whipped again, and again… But they were only entertaining themselves. He knew he was bound to be executed. The prince did not let out a single moan or scream, only let the pain wash over him. They would get what was coming to them. He was sure of it.

Even as he was shoved forward towards the altar, his hands tied behind his back, his head bowed, with his unruly curly hair covering his face, he grinned. They would get what was coming to them. And it simply wasn't just because God was watching. God had an accomplice, and her name was Karma.

Boy, wasn't she a bitch, too… He grinned as he noticed a red rivulet of blood flowed in front of his face, offering itself to quench his sudden thirst that parched his tongue and throat. The pink muscle flicked out to taste just as the axe came down and severed his neck, breaking the cross that hung from his masculine throat in several pieces. There leaked a little blood, in small, weak pumps, soaking and staining the ground as the head of the prince rolled, a wide-eyed, insanely smiling look upon his face.

Seras woke with a start. That was the fifth time that dream had come to her! She never knew she could experience them so… vividly. The thought of the Prince dying made her want to cry, but she knew… for some reason, she knew that he wasn't dead. Or maybe she was only hoping. She saw the axe plunge down against his neck, after all. But that expression on his severed head… That was something she hadn't noticed before. Past the insanity, past the vengeful façade, there was a great pain hidden within his quickly dilating ice blue, almost white, irises. She was glad that her subconscious did not make the dead head blink at her. She would have awakened with a much greater start- not to mention, scream. She hated it the effect horror movies' or even adventure movies' graphic scenes had to her influential mind. She was only twenty, for Pete's sake; she shouldn't know about these things. It didn't help that her profession was a policewoman. Sitting up, holding her head, Seras Victoria decided that she wouldn't be able to go to sleep this night… Not after that. No, she'd have to get up and walk. Preferably outside, just to get out, even though it wasn't permitted. There was a new curfew law that had to be obeyed. Enforced by lower patrol, Division 3 (D-3), the curfew had popped up around five years ago but was strong enough already that even a policewoman like herself, a member of Division 11 (D-11), had to obey it. Of course she had to anyway, she reprimanded herself; she was part of the law, not above it. Getting out of bed, she changed out of her blue nightgown and into her underwear, then pulled on some jeans and a good t-shirt. She always had trouble finding good tees. Her bust had stretched a lot of shirts to the point where they were almost transparent. God, or whatever divine being laughed at her, had cursed her with gargantuan boobs. In no way were they a blessing. She was timid, so using them to get men's attention was really out of the question. As for using them as pillows… screw that, they were sensitive as hell. Calling them floatation devices were out of the question, also. If she didn't know how to swim, she would sink like a rock.

Sighing, she looked at her clock and swore. There was no way patrol was going to let her pass at this hour.

Was that going to keep her from trying? Uh, no. She was a policewoman. Trying was the only thing she could do. So, she grabbed her long coat and pulled it over her shoulders. She'd have to be quiet and quick to get outside and not be caught. She'd more than likely be called a terrorist in this crazy city if they did catch her.

Exiting her apartment and walking onto the streets, Seras reveled in the cool breeze that caressed her spiky blonde locks and cooled her heated, somewhat sweaty skin. She heard the faint echo of her footsteps bouncing off the walls as she walked down the street and looked around warily for the patrol officers. At least she hadn't run into any as of yet. She would be in deep if she got caught. It just felt so nice outside… and it was clearing her thoughts. That dream she continued to have robbed her of her sleep, and therefore her strength. Speaking of strength, she saw the posters littered across the sides of buildings; all were posted by the country's leader, a man simply called the Patriarch.

'Strength through Unity

Unity through faith'

The words stated their message plainly with big, bold letters. It was annoying how the Patriarch was trying to press his religion onto all of the citizens of the city, not to mention the rest of the country. More than annoying, in fact. Tyrannical. To top it all off, she just so happened to be in the middle of it all.

Seras glared heavenward as she continued walking, not noticing a man who stepped out in front of her until she crashed into his chest.

"Whoa!" the man cried out in surprise, obviously not expecting to have someone crash into him.

Seras, equally as surprised and a little more fearful, cried out as well.

"I-I'm sorry!"

"Excuse me, miss. In a hurry, are we?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "It's way past curfew, you know."

"Y-yes, sir… I got caught up at a friend's house and was on my way back home."

"'Way back home,' huh?" The man didn't sound convinced and raised both eyebrows to glance over his shoulder before quickly returning his gaze to Seras. "What do you think of this, Jan?"

"I think it's a load of bullshit, that's what I think, Luke." Another man said, stepping out of the shadows into the slightly better lit area.

It was then that Seras took a small moment to take in the men in front of her. The one she ran into, Luke, was very tall, just above six feet, Seras guessed, with long blond-white hair, and he wore glasses that framed his rather handsome, narrow face and pale complexion. The man behind him, Jan, was similar in height, maybe an inch or two shorter than Luke, but a different in the looks department. While Luke was pale, Jan was dark-skinned and had short, brunette hair. He also wore a cap with something on it, but Seras couldn't manage to get a good look at it.

"I made a mistake. I shouldn't be out after curfew, I know that."

"Yeah, well, maybe you could 'visit' with us before heading on home. Jan here has been very lonely lately." Luke said slyly as Jan made a half circle, appearing to the right of both Luke and Seras herself, somewhat between them.

"Yeah, real fuckin' lonely." Jan whispered, sounding pitiful. He grabbed her arm. "Look, you can feel it."

He was aiming her hand to his crotch. Oh, hell no.

"Don't touch me!" She commanded, ripping her hand away and pulling pepper spray from within her coat. She aimed it first at Jan, then at Luke.

"Look, Jan, Kitten's got claws," Luke said with some humor, his greenish-gold eyes glinting maliciously.

"She just threatened us," Jan said with much glee in his voice as he returned to Luke's side, standing a little behind him, now. Fidgety little bastard.

"That she did, Jan, that she did." Luke replied, sighing. "You know what that means, right? It means we must exercise our own judicial discretion."

He chuckled as he reached into his own pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a wallet before he flipped it open and revealed the badge of the Patriarch. Jan laughed, lowering his head far enough to show that the symbol on his hat was the same thing. Oh, shit.

"And you, pussy-cat, get to swallow it." Jan cackled.

Seras's eyes widened in fear, and she slowly began backing up.

Luke chuckled quietly. "Uh-oh, she's getting the picture."

"Oh, no, please I didn't mean-" She started, trying to swallow the lump of fear that swelled at the base of her throat, "Please, I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"Oh, not yet, you're not… But you will be." Luke said lowly, his once-suave voice now taking on a more evil tone. "By morning if you aren't the sorriest piece of ass out there, you will definitely be the sorest."

Seras looked at him in fear, almost shivering, before turning to run only to be grabbed by a scrawny, pale, yet strong guy dressed in priest garb. She yelped in shock and utter terror. She was trapped! She was going to be raped, and she could do nothing! She had left her gun back at home, with the rest of her police uniform. This was not the way she wanted to lose her virginity!

The man dressed as a priest whipped her around to face Luke and Jan again, while holding one arm over her throat threateningly.

"Please, no, don't do this! I'll go home, I won't do this again, I- Please!"

The 'priest' smirked, she could see it out of the corner of her eyes, then turned his head towards the men in front of him. "What do you think?"

Jan was glaring hungrily at Seras. "Spare the rod, spoil the child." He cackled, moving forward, beginning to unbutton his dark pants.

The other men laughed, and the false priest held onto her tighter. She could feel something poking her in the side, and she fought to free herself from his grasp.

"Ah! No! Help!" she shrieked, years of police training gone from her panicked mind.

A voice, steadily growing stronger erupted from the darkness of the night somewhere behind Jan and Luke. She could barely hear him under her cries for the men to stop their advances.

"The multiplying villainy of nature doth swarm upon him."

The men, much to Seras' relief, stopped, and turned their attention to the man within the shadows.

"What the hell?" the one who held Seras in an iron grip asked to no one in particular angrily.

"Bugger off!" Luke commanded the dark form, waving him off with his hand, as if that would work.

A long, silver gun was pulled out from within the shadowed person's cloak and cocked with an audible 'click!'

He was muttering something, but Seras couldn't understand them, only saw Luke hold up his badge, showing it to the intruder. With an echoing, muted shot of a gun, the badge that Luke was holding disappeared. Luke, whose face fell, growled and pulled out his own gun, a shotgun-like contraption, and aimed it directly at the man with the silver gun.

Before anyone could blink, the shadowed man, still wrapped in darkness, rushed forward and slammed his fist into the blond man's face, sending him crashing into the wall with the inhuman force of it all.

Seras, having whiplash effect from seeing Luke fly past her face, was thrown to the side as the priest threw her down against the wall next to him, knocking the wind out of her. Her eyesight went fuzzy, and she felt light-headed. All she knew was that the dark form was kicking ass and had killed the one who held her captive, though his body had somehow disappeared. He was now grinning- the white, sharp teeth all she could really see of him- like a mad man while fighting Luke, who had gotten up and was now shooting at him.

The next thing happened so quickly; one second Luke was standing, then the next both of his legs were blown off and a dog appeared, ripping his screaming body to shreds. Seras's fear rose. Maybe this guy wasn't here to save her. Maybe he was just going to kill her like he did the fake priest (she never did hear his name)… or feed her to that dog, or wolf, or whatever it was that was swallowing large chunks of Luke while Mr. Shadow, as she decided to call him, was gleefully shooting a silently screaming Jan in the crotch, before finally shooting his chest and ending it all.

Seras's body slumped against the cold brick. She felt something wet trickling down her neck, and would have wiped at it if she thought she had the strength to.

Mr. Shadow turned to her, his eyes appearing almost red in the streetlight.

"I mean you no harm" she heard him say, though she didn't believe him fully. Didn't he just kill three guys, one of which he tortured?

"Wh-who are you?" she asked weakly. Why was she so weak? Had she been thrown that hard against the wall?

"Who? Who is but the form following what, and what I am is a man hidden in the shadows." The form said, grinning its Cheshire grin.

"… I can see that." What was this guy doing?! Was he making fun of her or something?

"Of course not! I'm not questioning your powers of observation, only remarking on the paradox of asking the man in hiding who he is."

Seras only stared at the blurry form that was apparently the 'man in hiding.' To her surprise, he took a step forward into the light, revealing a little more of his features. He wore a rather wide-brimmed black fedora that sat upon unruly wavy dark brown locks. She still could not see his face, but he was also wearing what appeared to be a Victorian-age black duster, and she was only just able to make out the pale shadow of a white shirt, though she did not know what type it was.

"But on this most beautiful of nights… where the moon is full, and has this wonderful tinge of red, I am compelled to suggest the character of this dramatis persona." He continued, taking a small bow, the fedora covering more of his face.

"So, Voila!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up, sending his duster in a little bit of a flurry, suggesting that he wore it like a cape. "In view a humble a vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain" he covered the lower half of his face here, as if he were very evil… Even though she couldn't see his face anyway! "by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage no mere veneer of vanity is the vestige of the 'vox populi' now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin, van guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition!" He then took out his gun again and shot a 'V' into one of the nearby posters defining strength through unity through faith. He was quiet, then, and turned his head slightly, as he had turned his back to her to shoot, and continued his introduction.

"…The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous."

He slowly turned his body toward her again, then made his hands meet in front of him, as if he were giddy, and began laughing quietly.

"Verily this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply addd…" He reached above his head to grab the fedora, and slowly removed it, bowing deeply, his dark hair now the cause of his hidden face, "That it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me 'Vlad.'"

He tilted his head up to look at her directly, no shadows, no curtain of dark hair, and no fedora. Seras's sapphire eyes met bright crimson, and she fought back the urge to either scream at the fact that he obviously wasn't human, or sane, or to applaud him for the usage of so many 'v's in his bloody introduction.

She couldn't shake the eye contact. Not even to notice that his grin grew wider and wider with each passing moment. Finally, she spoke.

"You're crazy...?"

"I'm quite sure that's what everyone else says, police girl. But, what is the name of the person to whom I am speaking?"

Seras was only silent, giving him a questioning look.

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because I do not gamble." Vlad said plainly, before reaching his hand out to her. She noticed that a pair of black gloves covered them. "Are you hurt, Police Girl?"

Shakily, too shakily for her liking, Seras reached out and took his hand.

"Truth be told, I do not know."

He pulled her up quickly; so quickly, in fact, that she hit his chest. Damnit, that was the second time she had collided with someone like that this night. Like he minded, judging from that growing grin of his.

"You're really rather frightening when you smile like that, 'Vlad.'"

His grin only grew wider, and he chuckled quietly.

"I know." He whispered, steadying her before checking over her head, wiping, what she could only guess to be blood away from her cheek, and temple, before placing that very finger into his mouth. Needless to say, Seras was horrified.

"That's so gross! How do you know I don't have AIDS?"

"I don't have to worry about it. You don't." He chuckled again, the sound rumbling his chest, as if he remembered something.

"Tell me, do you like fireworks, police girl?"

Cut!

So, did you like it? I know I did when writing it.

Okay, here's my predicament. I'm thinking about making this a A(V)/SV coupling story... problem is... does anyone like that pairing anymore since the ending of Hellsing? I know I still do. (-shakes fist angrily at Kohta Hirano- DAMN YOU!!!!) Let me know what you think.

- Wolf And Bo Mistress