A translation of a German One-shot.
Escape
Alucard sat on his throne in his basement chamber and slowly swirled the wine in his glass. He was thinking. About death. More specificly, about the death of Abraham van Hellsing.
It was not the first time that his train of thought moved into this specific direction. In fact this line of thought had been his companion through many long nights and sleepless days since that wretched old man had captured him and made ihm his slave and guinea pig.
In his head he had killed van Hellsing a thousand, no a hundred thousand times. He had killed him in every way imaginable. Sometimes quick and somtimes painfully slow. Somtimes with weapons and torture instruments and somtimes with bare hands and bared fangs.
As always a sinister grin spread on his face when he thought about how it would feel to sink his fangs into the neck of the vampire hunter, how it would feel to tear out his throat and drink his warm blood. To look into his dimming eyes and see him realize that he lost. See him understand his horrible mistake. The mistake of not killing him while he still had the possibility to do so.
Abraham would curse his pride. His arrogance when he believed that he could keep him, Dracula, in chains forever. Him for whom the passing of time did not matter. Him for whom the lives of humans meant no more than the lives of insects. Him, the most powerful of all true vampires.
Even though Abraham`s seal had a tight grip on him, he always thought that he would get his chance to take venegance one day. Eventally. All he would need was a short moment of negligence, one vague order that he could twist and he would pay van Hellsing back for all the shame and humiliation he had to suffer as his slave.
The moment never came.
The grin disappeared from his face.
The situation had changed. Abraham van Hellsin was dying. He was an old man and all these long years as a vampire hunter had drained him of his strength.
Alucard had not realized how long it had really been since his loss by the hand of van Hellsing and his subsequently enslavement. Already back then, Abraham had not been a young man anymore, but now he was truely old.
Alucard felt betrayed.
The man who took everything from him. His freedom, his brides and... Mina. The man who made himself his lord and master was now dying. Because he was old.
He was dying and escaping him. Escaping and leaving him behind. Still bound to his bloodline. Bound to his son. Alucard clenched his teeth. Arthur was an idiot. He gambled and drank and thought only about chasing women. He was nothing like his father.
Alucard hated Abraham. He hated him from the bottom of his dead, unbeating heart, though at the same time, he felt a grudging respect for the man. For his cunning, his cleverness and his disciplin. For his strength to do what he had to do without losing his humanity.
Why had van Hellsing not killed him? A human should kill a monster.
That`s how it should be.
Alucard leaned back on his throne and closed his eyes.