Title: Marionette
A/N: This isn't yaoi love between our favourite priest and vampire...which is surprising. Just a little violent scene with some harsh language and mean thoughts.
Disclaim: I really don't own...still! (sad)

Blessed blades cut through his skin, tearing his clothes asunder and making shadows leak from his body. He snarled, pressing the priest against the wall of the building, in effect hiding the pair from wandering gazes. The priest snarled down at him, violently shoving bayonets through his face and neck, tearing apart his skin until shiny muscle and white bone showed through. He laughed softly at the priest as his shadows pulled Anderson's hands down, pinning them tight against the paladin's sides.

Alucard held Anderson against the wall, his shadows curling about the other's frame in a parody of a lover's caress. The Jackal's muzzle was pressed into the hollow of the paladin's stubbled cheek. His breath curled and puffed from behind his fangs, a mimicry at life, from the struggle with the Judas Priest. He blatantly ignored the blessed blades that tore through his stomach suddenly, piercing his liver and stomach, and still held by the priest. Anderson clutched hard at the bayonets, causing the blades to quiver in Alucard's body, causing mild discomfort. He could feel Anderson's cross pressed hard against his chest where their bodies seemed to have melted together.

His feelings ran sharply through him as he stared into the eyes of the paladin. Those vibrant green eyes had narrowed as lips had curled away from strong teeth in a snarl. Alucard suddenly hated all of it. He hated the fighting. He hated defending the humans from the pitiful excuses of new vampires, his own opinions toward the abominations aside. He absolutely loathed being used as pet monster, a creature to send out and do the dirty work; just a simple trash man. And he hated how Anderson was used as well, in the same sense. He understood and hated how both Anderson and himself were treated as dogs, supposed to come at their masters' beck and call.

He stared up into those flickering green eyes, like all the shades of green melted into glass. Alucard could see flecks of grey and black in those depths. Behind the rage was something else...Guilt? Shame? He lifted his head, brushing the paladin's nose with his own as he stared intently into those ever-changing eyes. He reached out mentally and touched a burning hot nothingness. What are you thinking Judas Priest? What do you feel? There was no response, just the crackle of heat as his inquiries slipped off the paladin's shield around his mind. This puzzled the vampire, as it had before in the past, that Anderson was the only creature whose mind he had never been able to read. He needed a reaction, he decided, and he pressed closer against the paladin, until he could feel their souls touching. Everything about the priest was hot, burning against his skin like red-hot metal.

"Do you have any idea what you are Father," he asked in a teasing growl, delighting wholly in the narrowing of jade eyes. "What I am? Because we are the same," he continued, letting his sentence taper off into a nothingness that made the paladin's muscles twitch. Alucard pressed the gun closer, before pulling the Jackal back and smashing it into the paladin's cheek. He felt teeth give way, heard the tear of skin, and could smell, taste the blood pooling in Anderson's mouth, dribbling from his lips. Behind his glasses, Anderson's eyes narrowed further as the priest spit a mouthful of broken teeth, shorn gum and cheek tissue, and blood into Alucard's face. He ignored the gore trailing lethargically down his face; instead, his thin lips pulled away from from white fangs in a grimacing smile. "We're simply puppets on two sets of strings, intertwined." A low growl shook itself free form Anderson's chest; Alucard could feel it throughout his entire body. The grimaced smile became a little more real; he could almost feel the hurt from his statement as if caused the burning heat around the paladin's soul and mind to waver. "But you already knew that didn't you Father?" He tilted his head, bringing his lips dangerously close to the other's neck and ear. "You know you aren't even a human in their eyes. You are simply Maxwell's pet whipping boy. He snaps his fingers, and you attack like a well-trained dog."

Anderson's lip tore open in a snarl, revealing perfect and strong teeth once more. A deep growl ripped from the chest of the paladin as Anderson threw his body forward, shoving Alucard back into the filth of the alley's cobblestone street. The priest's heavy weight landed on his stomach, holding him down as the priest's broad knuckles collided with his face. Alucard felt his teeth tear open his lips and cheek, as well as through Anderson's glove and into his hand. "YE GODDAMNED HEATHEN," Anderson bellowed out, drawing his damaged hand back for yet another crushing blow. Alucard's shadows slunk out of the wall and the street, wrapping around Anderson's strong body and slamming the priest down into the filth. Alucard leered at the paladin as he rose up over the downed body, lifting his hand. He brought it down on the paladin's windpipe, feeling the tube completely give under the force of his punch. The priest struggled on, despite each breath he took sounding pained and wheezed. Finally Anderson managed to squirm free of the restrictive shadows, throwing his body hard into Alucard's with a roar.

The ferocity of the last attack bomb-shelled Alucard, as Anderson held him pinned against the dirty street. Those broad hands pummeled his face until he could taste the paladin's blood imprinted upon his taste-buds. The bones of his face had fractured, been torn apart by the rage that had boiled over from the paladin's soul. And when his face was little more than soft, bloody matter, Anderson punched him roughly a few times in the ribs and chest. Alucard could feel his heart beating sluggishly. Slowly, the heavy weight of the priest lifted off his mangled body, and he felt blood thickened saliva slip down his cheek. "Ye damned heathen. Ye think Ah donae know that we are nothing but dogs tah them? Ah may live the life of ah simple priest, but donae ye ever think that Ah am slow-witted. Now crawl on back tah yer bitch, while Ah limp home. We'll lick our wounds, heal over, and fight again. But next time, ye bloody heathen, leave yer opinions in yer mind." The paladin gave him a good, hard kick in the ribs for good measure before limping off. Alucard slowly lifted off the ground as his face reformed. He glanced down at the trail of blood leading away. He was suddenly smiling with broken, jagged teeth and busted, bloody lips. His tongue slipped out from his broken mouth and traced the gaping wound in his cheek. He could taste the paladin there. Slowly, Alucard smiled. His head fell back in a damaged laugh, the sound wheezing out from under his bruised ribs. He had cut the first of Anderson's strings, and the man held great potential to be a truly terrifying monster when all the strings were cut.