Hello lovelies!

This chapter has been edited about 5 times now, it's just that I constantly make horrendous spelling errors and once I detect them, I feel obliged to correct my tremendous stupidity.

Hahaha…

I apologise if some things make no bloody sense at first, I promise everything becomes clear within the next few chapters so don't panic! Read and enjoy. If for some strange inexplicable reason you didn't enjoy a certain chapter, do not hesitate to inform me about it and I will not hesitate and show you just how many fucks I give about haters.

Don't really understand why I have to state the obvious, however:

"I do not own Hellsing, Integra, Alucard (I wish) or any other characters or places created by Kouta Hirano and his beautiful mind. Juliet Harper is me, she therefore is mine…I belong to myself."

P.S. This is not an AU, everything is set based on the OVAs and begins sometime after Count Dracula turns Police Girl into one of his own. Throughout the first 5-6 chapters I'll be introducing Juliet and will allow you to determine whether this is something you might want to read.

…did I forget to mention anything? REVIEWS, whether they are positive or negative (no haterz plz) are more than welcome, I want to be able to determine whether the reader is enjoying this masterpiece.

Love you all, remember to subscribe since I am finally back and I will be posting new chapters once a week every WEDNESDAY starting 19/11/2014.

Italics – thoughts

Warning – a lot of swearing.

"Ahem. I think I deserve my freedom."

Freedom is more important than money, love or even peace. I could probably disagree with the last statement. Peace is something that should come along with freedom. Just not in my world. All my life I struggled to fit in, to be just like everybody else, all those lovely gorgeous girls with perfect hair and a perfect life ahead of them. Until I was about 10, I did everything I could think of just to blend in with the rest of my suburban mates in New Jerseybut no matter how hard I tried a black sheep can't exactly blend in with the flock. Unless the other sheep are fucking blind and the rest of the world doesn't care.

It's like when you're at a birthday party and everyone starts singing "happy birthday dear God knows who..", you look around and see how sincerely happy everyone is and feel ashamed of how fake your sincerity is. That's how I felt all the time, ashamed of not being what I should have been.

My life changed when I was 10. A group of girls who are probably dead by now were playing with dolls in someone's garden. It was a sunny day; the birds were singing and nothing connoted havoc. I was with the group, helping them dress up the dolls but never actually playing with them since I found them too boring. Suddenly, a jet black bird fell right onto the little doll house, smashing the crap out of it for which I was eternally grateful for. You could see with a naked eye that it was dying, it convulsed in agony like a spider whose legs have been torn off. Everyone screamed and stepped away from the raven, apart from me.

I felt sorry for the creature, it was a pretty bird. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and I silently prayed to whatever there was above me to save its life. I took the raven home and made a little bed for it from dad's shirts and mother's dresses. That night I stayed up super late, stroking the bird and praying for a miracle. Since it all happened a long time ago, I can only remember that just before I fell asleep, I felt my hands heating up and saw them shine. Shine bring like a diamond. The next morning, the bird was gone. For the next 7 years I was convinced that my parents threw away the dead bird, until one day I discovered what really happened. But that's something I'm just not ready to talk about at the moment.

After that incident everything in my life turned to crap. Pretty girls told their parents how I picked up a dead bird and I was forbidden to be played with. My parents had always suspected that there was something wrong with me, after hearing about my strange behaviour and my accusations regarding them stealing "my dead birdie" they decided that I need to be disciplined and educated in a boarding school. Long story short, we moved from New Jersey to Manchester and I was sent to one of the strictest and prestigious schools in UK. If I ever felt like an outsider amongst my dumb rich New Jersey friends, it was nothing compared to how I felt among posh girls who didn't even speak like normal people! Instead of turning me into one of them, I became a...

"...ABSOLUTE BRAT! I am so disappointed in you and you still have the guts to talk about your freedom!?"

7 years had passed since we moved.

I was sitting in my living room, listening to my mother shouting at me. Typical Manchester morning for my family and me.

The name is Juliet Harper, by the way. At that time I was only 17 but already managed to make my parents so angry that they decided to send me away to visit my mother's sister instead of spending summer holidays with me. Apparently, I really liked it there when I was 3. When I was 3, I also liked to jump on my daddy's leg and use it as a swing. Somehow I doubt he would have allowed me to do it nowadays. Just because I had a party and smashed some expensive antique didn't mean they had to yell at me. It's not like they couldn't afford to buy some more fancy old shit.

That night my parents went out to celebrate their anniversary or something, I decided to celebrate my arrival and invited the neighbourhood teens for a little party. Seriously, I did not expect them to get so drunk and high. Whoopsie, my bad. Everything was going well until somebody whose name won't be mentioned decided to play with my dad's skeletons. He was a doctor by the way, and therefore collected skeletons of patients he couldn't save.

Just kidding, there were ancient prototypes. So, have a guess what happens when a guy who's high as fuck decides to dance fragile bones? Yeah, he broke them into little bone pieces and used these pieces to fight imaginary dragons in the kitchen. You can probably imagine how happy my dad was when he came back and inspected the damage.

"Juliet?! Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

"Yes, daddy, I heard you. I won't miss my train tomorrow."

They haven't survived 4 days with me. Other parents forgive their kids everything, but not mine. Just because I trashed the house and got wasted didn't mean they should have sent me away. Tomorrow, I was leaving the house and would stay at Mrs. Willson's mansion for the rest of the summer. How swell. I had no clue who she was, to be completely honest. But apparently she was a very strict, self-confident person who considered herself strong enough to deal with problematic teens (me!). Basically, a bossy bitch. And I used to like being around her place? Blimey, I had changed A LOT since I was 3.

"JULIET!"

"What?"

"Your train leaves tomorrow at 09:30 am. I expect you to pack everything up tonight." Dad then slowly turned around, hesitating. "Take care of yourself. We won't always be there to help you or to drag you out of another messy situation. Someday you'll realise that sometimes your mistakes cannot be fixed, and that's when you'll remember my words. Please, be careful"

Then he quickly walked away, as if to avoid any further questions. God knows he was right that day. The mistakes I was going to make would be impossible to fix, and I would pay for them with my own life.

Chapter numero uno is completed!

Hopefully this was a good start! I know, it's a bit of a strange cliff-hanger but at some point everything will be revealed. Be patient, my dear.

Random Vlad Fact I: In Romania, he was actually considered (and still is) a national hero.