Disclaimer: I dont own SHIT!! None of the characters used in this story (the exception being those created by me) are my property!! I dont own them or make any money from this work of fiction!!
All characters used in this story are the respective property of their creators...
This is a self-insertion of sorts and yes it is a crossover (duh) the character Daniel Guerrero is ME BITCHEZZ!!
Oh yeah, I AM A FUCKING STONER!! I SMOKE WEED AND IF YOU DONT LIKE IT THEN FUCK OFF!
More people should smoke weed man... the world would be alot more peaceful. As a result of this I've always thought fanfics
where the characters get stoned (one way or the other) are funny as fuck. It leads to great OOC moments for ll!
Wait and see what happens when I lace Integra's cigars with hash oil - hee hee! :-P X-D
Authors note: Because I feel that the current president is a douchebag asswipe, for all intents and purposes the current president of the United States in this fanfic is... (Who it should be!)
BARACK OBAMA!! lol :-P
( as for the letter i dont know how the fucking CIA would write a letter to another government agency of another country so bear with me OK? and yes i know that affairs of security within the country are the FBI and homeland security's job. but the CIA is waaay more top secret so the CIA it is!)
Resident Evil: Weapons of the Night.
Chapter 1: A letter from Big Brother...
March 14th, 2008. Hellsing Manor.
It was a rainy night. Exceptionally rainy as a matter of fact, much to the annoyance of the great Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. The paperwork was never ending it seemed... every time she thought it was dealt with, more damn paperwork arose to take its place. Rather similar to Ghouls, really. thought Sir Hellsing as she sorted through another pile of the never ending plague.
"Hello... what's this?" Thought the knight out loud to herself as she reached for the stack of official correspondence mail Walter had laid on her desk that evening.
"What the bloody hell? US Central Intelligence Agency? What in gods name do they want from me...?"
She continued to herself, quite perplexed as to what the CIA wanted from an English organization like Hellsing.
Shouldn't they be talking to MI6? she thought, opening the letter and gazing at its contents.
It read:
To: Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.
From: Central Intelligence Agency, Board of Directors.
Sir Hellsing. We at the CIA have recently become aware of the existence of your organization from your Prime Minister and English Intelligence, branch MI6. Due to current paranormal phenomena occurring in the United States, it is of the current opinion of our board of directors that the need of personnel trained for such assignments is indeed currently demanded.
We have received word from your Prime Minister that your organization is capable of handling the influx of personnel this would incur upon your staff count, and would like to request that we send US personnel for special training in the handling of such crisis prevention methods.
Enclosed is a list of possible candidates for the aforementioned training program.
We request a response to this inquiry as soon as possible, Thank You.
Board of Directors, United States Central Intelligence Agency.
Good god! Leave it to the Americans to not be prepared for this... She thought exasperatedly as she looked at the enclosed list of personnel, scanning the names listed.
Leon Kennedy... Jill Valentine... Chris Redfield... Rebecca Chambers... Daniel Guerrero.. the names at the top of the list stood out, tickling her memory as if she had seen these names somewhere before... but where?
The sound of footsteps in the hallway drawing closer to her office door caught her attention as Walter, the Hellsing family retainer/butler walked through the door bearing her evening tea.
"Here you are Sir, I trust that everything is going well?"
"
As well as it could be I suppose Walter..." said Integra, accepting the tea gratefully as she thought about the contents of the unexpected letter from the US government. "I've just received a letter from the American CIA, requesting that we train a group of their personnel to deal with the 'paranormal phenomena' occurring across the United States. It would seem that the FREAK chips are making their way to American soil... They have sent a list of the candidates for the program enclosed with the letter." She gesticulated with the paper in her hand. "Take a look at the names at the top of the list and tell me if any of them stand out in your memory." She said, handing the paper to Walter to examine.
"Hmmm..." he mumbled to himself, reading the names off the paper. "Leon Kennedy... wasn't he the one that saved the former presidents daughter last year?"
"You know, I believe that was the young mans name now that I think about it.." she replied, still thinking about where she had seen the other names before.
"As I recall," began Walter.. "This Kennedy... he was formerly a police officer with the Raccoon City Police Department if I remember correctly..." A look of realization dawned on Integra's face as she heard those two words. Raccoon City... her next thought was - Umbrella Corporation...
"Walter... could you get me what files we have on the former Umbrella Corporation, along with the report on the Raccoon City incident please?"
"Yes Sir Integra, right away..." said the butler, wondering what exactly the Americans were thinking...
March 15, 2008. Sacramento California
It was a sunny day in the city of Sacramento California. People were moving about the city below as a young man looked out from his window overlooking a busy walking street in the downtown area of the states capitol. He was tall, about six foot two, with short spiky brown hair and glasses. Muscular, but not overtly so, more of a runners' build than a weightlifters, it's something he was always self conscious about for some reason.
Same shit different day... he thought, stifling a yawn and shuffling back to his couch to sit down. The old couch made a squealing sound of protest as he plonked down upon it and reached for his bong and bag of weed with one hand, the days mail with the other. flick flick was the first sound he made that day as he sparked his bic lighter and inhaled sharply, filling the chambers of his bong with thick ganja smoke. Pulling out the bowlpeice and clearing the glass contraption of all the smoke inside, a harsh cough was followed by "Aaaaaaaaah... wake'n'bake!" the exclamation punctuated by the expulsion of a massive cloud of smoke from his lungs. Now... what do we have here? hmmmm... junk, junk, bills, junk, credit card offers... He thought to himself as he sorted through his mail, feeling the buzz from the weed creep towards his head.
Looking down at the last letter in the pile he frowned, perplexed. A letter from the Government? Again? I just fucking got back from Iraq goddamnit! What do they want now? Opening the letter his mood not improving when he saw it was an order to report in to the nearest Army Spec. Forces Command center. I really hope this isn't for a urinalysis test, if it is... I'm fucked. Goodbye USSF career, Goodbye pension... Well I could always show em my medical marijuana prescription and hope they take mercy on me... he mused as he slowly digested the contents of the letter, hoping for the best.
The life of a Survivor never gets easier, only harder. (As he and Chris had said while getting hammered at the bar last night just before Clair took their keys and made them both walk home)
Speaking of Chris... He thought while rolling a blunt (marijuana filled cigar) he'd use to wake his friend. Getting up off the couch, he quietly crept into his roommate's room and inserted his Ipod into the docking station, turning the speakers up all the way while... flick flick he lit the blunt, taking generous puffs while selecting the wake up call of the day. Hmmm... Disturbed or Ramstien...? aaah neither! DOPE!! Grinning like a madman he selected the song "Die Mutherfucker Die" from his metal playlist and took another hit on the blunt as he pressed play.
"DIE MUTHERFUCKER DIE MUTHERFUCKER DIE!! DIE MUTHERFUCKER DIE MUTHERFUCKER DIE!!" (AU-note: look up the song... its bad ass!!)
The volume was so loud the walls were shaking and a very angry looking Chris Redfield shot up out of bed, fists swinging at his roommate. "DANIEL!! YOU SON OF A BITCH TURN THAT FUCKING SHIT OFF!!" He screamed over the blaring music as he endeavored to punch his asshole of a roommate, getting only fat clouds of ganja smoke in his face for his efforts as Daniel gleefully danced around his room, waving the blunt around and laughing like a crackhead. "Gimme that shit!" said Chris finally as he snatched the blunt out of Daniel's hands and sat down on his bed, taking a long puff and exhaling a cloud of smoke in his wake.
"You know your A fucking dickhead right?" asked Chris as they sat and had their morning smoke. "If it weren't for your stupid ass I would never have started smoking this shit! Now look where its got me! Stuck in this apartment with the worlds most annoying asswipe of a roommate!" He continued to fume at his daily mistreatment by his friend.
"Yeah yeah Chris, I love you too bro.." said Daniel, with a grin on his face as he reached out for the blunt. " Hey, I got A letter from Special Forces command today, it says to report in for A new assignment overseas. I think you got one too." Mused the perpetually stoned soldier as he pulled the aforementioned letter from his pocket and handed it to Chris.
"Hmmmm..." hummed the second Biohazard Survivor as he scanned the contents of the letter. "Well if you got orders to report then I'm probably expected to report as well I would imagine.."
" I wonder if this has anything to do with the stuff Leon wrote me about in his last email..? " Daniel thought aloud as he puffed on the now diminishing blunt.
"What do you mean? what stuff?"
"Well.. like the whole Los Illuminados ordeal as well as rumors that there's some sort of problem spreading throughout the US, he wasn't really specific, but he said he'd see us soon enough to explain."
"See us soon? That makes very little sense, seeing as how he isn't exactly easy to get a hold of ya'know..."
"I wonder if this has anything to do with the letter I got in the mail today...?"
March 23. Heathrow International Airport, England.
Chris looked around the terminal for any sign of the person they were supposed to meet. Their commanding officer had said that they would be retrieved by personnel from the (in his opinion) mysterious Hellsing Organization. Daniel on the other hand was just relieved that he had gotten through airport security with his stash intact. How this idiots mind worked Chris could never begin to understand... taking pounds of weed on assignment in another country was not something he would ever consider doing in his lifetime. And yet here they were, poor Chris stuck with his idiot squad mate from hell, who was at the time, looking for the nearest place to roll joint in privacy. I wonder if I've ever seen him REALLY sober before... nah." He thought as he looked at Daniel, who in turn was looking at a group of cute flight attendants walking past them.
"OI!" he snapped as he turned to face his companion "We're supposed to be looking for our contact you asshole, not checking out every piece of ass that walks past us!" But his berating fell on deaf ears as he followed his partners gaze over to the double doors leading out onto the airport terminal entrance roadway. Because standing there was none other than a real English butler! Holding a sign with their names on it no less!
"I do say old chap!" remarked Daniel in his best British-English accent, "Jolly good of those fellows at this Hellsing place to send the butler along to fetch us!"
"Your too much sometimes, you really are" said Chris as they walked up to the man with the sign.
"Misters Redfield and Guerrero I presume?"
"Yeah, that's us." replied Daniel.
"Gentlemen, my name is Walter, I am the Hellsing family retainer and I have been sent by Sir Hellsing to escort you back to Hellsing Manor. If you'll follow me please, our transport is waiting outside." said the butler crisply as he turned and followed them outside onto the sidewalk lining the exit road, gesturing to an Aston Martin sedan parked at the curb. Upon entering the vehicle and fastening their seatbelts they were whisked away from the airport posthaste, briskly cruising through the green English landscape toward their destination.
After a while the pair could make out a large estate looming in the distance, growing larger as they got closer. Finally, after what seemed to take forever they pulled up outside Hellsing manor.
"Jesus.." thought Chris out loud, "It reminds me of the Arklay Mansion outside Raccoon City... only bigger.. much bigger" he pondered as he surveyed the lay of the land around the massive estate.
"Man... this should be on MTV cribs!" laughed Daniel as he retrieved their luggage out of the trunk.
"Gentlemen, this way please" remarked Walter, gesturing towards the doors. "Sir Hellsing wishes to debrief you before I take you to your rooms, so if you'll follow me..." he said, leading the way down what seemed like an endless maze of hallways before reaching a pair of large oak wood doors in a third floor corridor that lead into what could only be the office of Sir Hellsing.
Walter gently knocked on the door and not a second passed before the reply came. "Enter..." called a cool feminine voice. So.. secretary huh? I wonder if she's cute? thought Daniel as Walter proceeded to open the door and wave them in.
Needless to say, what he saw was notwhat he had expected at all. Seated at her desk, Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing (god that's a long name!) was apparently immersed in a large pile of paperwork as per the usual. Looking up she saw the two young men standing in front of her desk and immediately sized them up. hmm... both tall, athletically built.. which is to be expected of US special forces troops.. The one on the right, with the glasses.. She quickly consulted her file Guerrero... is he drunk? Typical Americans... She then turned her attention to Chris for a brief second. This one... Redfield I believe...he looks like a good soldier.
"Ahem." She cleared her throat as she stood up. "Gentlemen, Welcome - to the Hellsing Organization. My name is Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, and I am the commander of this organization. You will be receiving your orders from me directly as of right now, so if you have any questions or concerns that can not be dealt with by your instructing officers then feel free to bring them to my attention." She stated as she sat down in her large leather chair again and lit a cigar.
Cigar smoker eh? thought Daniel. I wonder if she smokes blunts...? Noticing the look on his friends face, Chris gave him a look that clearly said 'do it and you'll regret it'.
"Gentlemen if there are no further concerns you have then Walter will show you to your rooms. Good day to you." Said Integra, turning her attention back to her paperwork.
"This way Gentlemen." Said Walter as he led them out of the office and through the maze of halls once more. Upon reaching a long second floor hallway on the other side of the manor Walter gestured towards two doors along the corridor. "These will be your rooms for the duration of your stay here, so get yourselves settled in and feel free to explore the grounds when you're ready. I'm sure some of your fellow trainees are around here somewhere." Leaving them with that, Walter turned promptly on his heel and set off into the depths of the house to do... god only knows what.
"I wonder who else is here already?" mused Daniel as he and Chris unpacked their things and got settled in. With exploring the grounds in mind he promptly began rolling a large spliff (a type of joint - European style mixed with tobacco) to enjoy as he toured the estate's premises at his leisure. Lets see if I can find anyone who smokes herb and get em stoned... thought the perpetually stoned soldier as he licked the gum on the paper and admired his masterpiece. Another perfect spliff, courtesy of the Spliffmaster! Now, lets smoke this bitch and get hiiigh!!. He grabbed his Ipod off of his dresser and made sure his cigarettes and lighter were in his pocket as he went out the door. Thus with smoking on his agenda he went forth into the wide world that is Hellsing manor and its surrounding grounds and dont you know it. He got lost.
Somewhere in or around Hellsing manor.
(Au.note - the song here is Eek a Mouse: "Ganja smuggling" check it out if you like good reggae. it too is bad ass)
"Bitty bitty bong bong bitty bong bong bitty bong bong midi mehen.."
"Early early Sunday morning it was a big ganja smuggling"
Sang Daniel as he wandered around listening to his Ipod, not really knowing or caring where was for the moment. For at the moment he was veeery stoooned. He was definitely not walking in a straight line nor was he able to hold a straight face for a second. He didn't even notice it when he walked past Rebecca and Jill who were sitting and talking in the estates garden.
"Children," said Jill gesturing to Daniel as he walked past. "This is your brain on drugs." Rebecca laughed as Jill picked up a stone from the ground and threw it at Daniel, pegging him square in the back of the head.
"OWWW! That fucking hurt!"
"Well perhaps you should be more aware of your surroundings you moron." said Jill as she rose to give her favorite stoner a hug.
"So how did you guys get here? Inquiring minds need to know!" He asked.
"Well, I got this letter from the government, something about 'special training' or some crap like that." replied Jill with a smirk.
"And soo.. here I am!"
"Keeeeeeeeewl maaaaaan... wanna hit this shit?" he gestured with the spliff in his hand.
"I'm cool thanks, how about you Rebecca?"
To this Rebecca just looked flustered. "You guys know that I dont smoke weed! Its bad that you got Chris to start smoking that crap!"
"Yeah yeah, lighten up will ya? You know why I think you should smoke Becky? Cuz it would loosen you up girl! Your waaay to uptight for your own good."
"I AM NOT UPTIGHT!!" shouted Rebecca as Jill just laughed at the stupidity of the argument at hand.
"You are too! You need to get laid more often! Seriously!"
"I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT IVE NEVER EVEN..." Realizing what she was about to say, she quickly shut her pie hole.
LATER THAT EVENING
"Man... This is a strange place.." Thought Chris aloud as he traversed the seemingly endless hallways and corridors of the Hellsing Manor.
"Your tellin me pal," said a voice from behind him.
That voice... "Leon! You sonofabitch!" Turning, he saw the man in question leaning on a pillar that extended to the ceiling.
"How's it going Chris?" Said the super-secret agent wannabe, as a grin spread across his face.
"Aaah you kow, same old shit, different pile." Replied Chris as he shook his friends hand, gesturing to their surroundings with his other hand. "You know, this place reminds me alot of the old Arklay Mansion... endless hallways and doors. I'd hate to have to survive this place if umbrella had their way with it."
"Yeah I know the feeling Chris, I really do. It's like Salazaar's Castella almost..."
"Good times eh?" said Chris, trying to make light of the situation at hand. He had a feeling that Leon in particular knew more than he was going to let on for now...
"Well! If it isn't Abbot & Costello!" The pair turned to see Daniel coming up the nearest stairwell, Jill and Rebecca in tow.
"Stow it genius" Said Leon, moving over to the trio with Chris as the survivors re-united finally as a group.
"Where is Barry? I would have thought they would have had him trained too." remarked Jill as she took account of the people present and noticed that several who should have been there were not.
"Well last I heard from Barry he was in the Caribbean, and he didn't want to come back for anything." Added Chris as they heard footsteps approaching them, derailing that particular train of thought.
"Aaah I see you all have found one another!" Walter was standing behind them in the hallway with a pleased expression on his face. "Sir Hellsing would like you all to attend a special meeting this evening, so if you would follow me I'll take you to the main hall now." As they turned to leave, Chris shot Leon a questioning glance while they filed in behind Walter.
I wonder what this "meeting" is about Thought Jill as they silently strode towards the main hall, taking in all that she saw and registering it so as not to get lost in this HUGE ASS house. She too, was reminded of the Arklay mansion the more she saw of this place... It was older though, and she got a creepy vibe from somewhere in this house. Though she couldn't put her finger on where that feeling was rooted...
Before long they stood in the main hall, unsure of what to expect as there was no one present at the time.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" They turned to see Sir Hellsing at the head of the staircase. "I have been informed that you are the best your government has to combat the rising threat of 'Paranormal Crises'. A threat that is spreading all over the world, including the United States." Pausing, she continued. "The training you will receive at the hands of this organization is specially designed to deal with the kinds of threats that plague the world over." A darkness had began to spread over her head on the ceiling, and gesturing upwards, she made her final point. "Especially... Vampires."
With this being said Alucard, alias Vlad the Impaler, made his grand entrance, seemingly seeping out of the darkness above Integra - it seemed, by the expression on his face and the reaction he received from the assembled Biohazard Survivors, that he was enjoying 'Chillin' on the ceiling for dramatic effect.
Noticing this, Integra looked up at him. "Alucard, what have I told you about coming out of the ceiling and scaring newcomers like that?"
"My apologies, Master." With a grin that was all fangs, he proceeded to descend from the ceiling to her side.
"This," said Integra - gesturing to her right, "Is Alucard. He is a vampire in the service of the Hellsing Organization."
Jill and Rebecca were instantly infatuated with the No life King. (how could they not be?) "And this," She added, noticing that Seras Victoria (the one and only!) had appeared at the dark entrance to the dungeon levels. "Is Seras Victoria. She too is in the service of the Hellsing Organization."
Duuude... she is like... FUCKIN HOT!! Thought Daniel to himself as he glanced at Seras. Gawd! He is SOOO HOT!! Thought Jill and Rebecca at the same time as they looked at Alucard. Vampires eh? Figures...first the T-virus, then Las Plagas and now, Vampires.. Thought Leon. Chris glanced at Seras, noticing her fleetingly gazing at him. Damn... she is really cute... Observing her figure, he thought I wonder if they're real though...? (Au.note: LOL! XD )
I wonder what they're thinking... Mused Integra to herself as she studied the looks on the trainees faces. Seras and Alucard seemed to be enjoying the attention. Especially Alucard. She noticed that Seras was getting alot of attention as well from the male trainees, though they were trying not to show it.
"Now that we are no longer strangers here so to speak, I will leave you to your own devices for the night. In the morning your training will begin, so be ready. You are all dismissed." Declared Integra as she turned to leave, Alucard at her heels. Everyone present looked at each other, wondering what was in store next.
Needless to say, this was going to be interesting...
Next day. March 24, 2008.
On the firing range, things were getting interesting. Daniel was emptying full extended clips out of a Glock 9.mm, putting all 30 rounds into a 6 inch hole in the center of the targets forehead. And he was so stoned he could barley stand up straight. Chris was going through quickloaders for his Python Magnum like no tomorrow, putting his shots three by three in neat 3 inch holes in the chest and head. As Jill and Rebecca were on their way to the firing range, they met Seras for the first time. "Hello there." said Seras as their paths crossed on the way to the range. "You are the new American trainees right?"
"Yep, that's us." replied Rebecca cheerfully as they walked through the doors and down the hall towards where Daniel and Chris were practicing. She doesn't look different from us... thought Jill as she glanced at Seras, wondering what made her so special.
It was only as they reached the weapons lockers that the difference became clear. Watching as Seras reached into the locker and pulled out the Halcannon with ease Jill thought That's FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE!! That gun must be at least 120-130 lbs... Rebecca was in shock. Vampires were one thing, but this girl...not an inch bigger than Jill in height or weight Except maybe her cup size... could use what appeared to be a 30.mm cannon! I wonder what else she can do? thought Rebecca as she watched in awe as Seras put her shot groups together in neat holes.
Turning, Seras smiled. "Its not that hard..." she said with an embarrassed look on her face.
Yeah I bet.. Thought Jill as she stepped up to her firing station and fitted a target to the slide, sending it downrange while she loaded her Beretta 9.mm and sighted in. At this point Chris and Daniel had stopped firing and were watching the whole spectacle with amusement (and a little envy at the size of the gun this chick was wielding.)
"If that aint some shit, I dont know what is man..." remarked Daniel as he watched Seras switch clips and resume firing. Allright then.. Let's take this shit to the next level then... he thought as he reached into his "Bag-o-Tricks" and pulled out a pair of .50 caliber desert eagles with extended 30 round clips and selector switches for fully automatic fire.
Rebecca noticed this. "Ooooh... he brought out the 'Wrist-Breakers'..." she said, pointing at the guns in his hands.
Seras glanced in his direction and stopped firing, wondering if this human could handle the weapons he held.
"I was a dead man.." was all that could be heard before the staccato roar of .50 caliber shots in rapid bursts ripped the targets to shreds. His, Chris's, Rebecca's, Jill's and Seras' targets were reduced to confetti. As the noise died down they could hear him... rapping?
"Its EBK everyday all day till the day I die, I'm creepin' through your set with a mini-mac10, AR-one five/ Ruger, with a 12 gauge pump in the trunk and a black beanie disguise, that nigga that you cant see just cuz-o-them block stillo's over my eyes."
(AU.note: that line is a fuckin CLASSIC! Brotha Lynch Hung: Rest in Piss. Check this shit out man!)
"That's right bitchez! All eyes on me.." he said as he noticed everyone staring at him. Chris chuckled. Typical Daniel... you can take the gangster out of the hood, but you can't take the hood out of the gangster.
