Blood, Death, and a New Moon
What a great night. Makes me want to suck some blood.
Such a nice, quiet night.
The situation in Cheddar Village, we were told, was dire. The villagers and local police had all been either killed or taken hostage by an unidentified male terrorist masquerading as a vicar. Our orders were simple. Enter and detain the suspect. Take him alive, if possible. Rescue what hostages were left.
Our briefing was simple and to the point. The commander of my unit gave us no reason to expect that anything was out of the ordinary. My fellow officers were nervous, but not overly so. The only thought I remember flitting through my head as our squad was dispatched to Cheddar was that the moon was gorgeously bright that night.
None of us had any idea that we were all about to walk straight into the seventh circle of hell.
As the youngest recruit – and a woman to boot – I was given a position at the rear of our ranks. Any other time I would have bristled at the gesture, but this time around I was thankful for the assignment. I had never dealt with a terrorist before, and my nerves were getting the best of me. I was eager to have this sortie over and done with. I remember that my heart pounded loudly as I followed the others slowly into the unnaturally quiet and dark village.
The moon was bright that night. It was visible even through the thick fog. We moved as silently as we could through the tall grass, making our way past the fields and towards the town itself. I remember thinking how unusually creepy the scenery was. Despite the presence of ample wheat and grain in the area, there was not a single sign of life anywhere. The village was completely deserted. No birds, no rodents, no people – nothing. This unnerved me far more than it should have.
I forced myself to focus on the task at hand and readjusted my grip on my gun. Our line slowly but surely advanced. One, two, one, two, I remember thinking to myself. Left, right, left, right. Stay in step. Don't slow down. Come on, Seras. Get a grip. Stop being paranoid. Just stay with the group and keep your wits about you. Eventually my nerves calmed. I think I took respite from the monotony of my movements. I looked up and realized that the men at the front had just about reached the first outcropping of buildings. We had reached the village.
Then, suddenly, someone ahead let out a bloodcurdling scream.
In my time as a police officer, I have seen many people get shot, and I have long since gotten used to the way they cry out in pain. Other times I've been witness to rookies losing their cool, and now I think nothing of the distinct manner in which they shout and panic. In these past years, I have also had the misfortune to hear the screams of countless victims of murder, rape, and other unbelievably cruel acts of violence.
And yet this scream was nothing like I had ever heard before. This was way beyond the scope of my experience. This was nothing but pure, unadulterated terror. I think it was the single most raw and disturbing sound I have ever heard in my life. Something about that scream shook me to my core. I froze.
Jack, the dependable fellow assigned to bring up the rear with me, tried to get me to move. I wouldn't. More screams pierced through the fog, and gunfire rang out in the night. Realizing that I was in no condition to move, Jack gave me a furious command to stay here and keep my head down, and he rushed into the fray.
I don't know how long I stayed there, paralyzed by fear. Eventually the sounds of the battle died down. It suddenly occurred to me that, since I could no longer hear my fellow soldiers exchanging words, there was no way we could have won. The only other possible outcome was that the other men had all been killed. That meant I was the only one in the squad left.
Something about that thought jolted me back to reality. I tightened my grip on my gun and steeled my courage. I would not abandon them and run like a coward. My actions so far had already disgraced the training I had received as a police officer. I was determined to continue with the mission or at least to identify the perpetrator, and as I prepared to peer over the top of the stone wall I had been ducking behind, someone grabbed my arm from behind.
I shrieked in terror, then realized it was Jack.
But at the same time, it wasn't Jack anymore.
His face was sunken, and his skin was dry and graying. His eyes were decidedly blank except for a deep sense of hunger that emanated from them. My stomach turned to ice at the sight of them.
A second later, the strong, putrid smell of rotting flesh hit my nose, and I realized that Jack was dead.
I screamed and unloaded an entire clip of bullets into his – its – head. Then I turned, scrambled up the hill in a panic, and ran back the way we had come, my heart in my throat.
And then the fog lifted, and I could finally see clearly what was going on around me.
I was surrounded.
My fellow officers were all dead. Somehow, their corpses were all still mobile. They all had the same hungry eyes, and they were groaning at me in a disgusting manner, drool flying from their slack jaws. I recognized the sound as one of longing and shuddered.
And then I noticed him.
He was a slight man, tall but with a thin frame. His face was far too pale to be human. His red eyes pierced my heart and froze my breath in my lungs. Blood trickled from his too-sharp teeth and down his chin. The corpses were careful to give him his space. They skirted around him not out of respect, but out of fear. I knew at once who he was.
It was the vicar. The terrorist.
Our target.
He's a vampire, came my unbidden thought. But that's impossible! They don't exist!
He smiled eerily at me. His pointy teeth looked very real.
Then he began to cackle.
There's no such thing, there's no such thing, there's no such thing! I thought to myself in panic as I stumbled away from him in terror. I tripped and fell onto the grass. The walking dead closed in on me. I suddenly knew it was all over.
My body moved of its own accord. Suddenly my guns were loaded, my fingers at their triggers. I began to fire with a precision I had never known before. My face must have been frozen in an expression of terror, but I shot like a madwoman, my body running in survival mode. One after another, the monsters fell.
And still, they stood up and came at me.
I emptied several clips shooting at the vampire alone. I couldn't believe my eyes as he dodged my bullets with inhuman speed. On purpose, I think, he let my last few shots connect. The wounds sealed themselves shut in a matter of seconds.
The hope died in my heart.
"Guns won't do a thing," he said to me a deceptively quiet voice as he and my dead fellow officers closed in. "A gun could never kill a vampire." His eyes glinted maliciously. "All your comrades now belong to me. And next, it's your turn."
He paused for effect and licked his lips. I couldn't take my eyes off his long, deadly teeth.
"All I want are devoted slaves," he continued in his bone-chilling tenor of a voice. "I won't even make you a vampire with free will. There probably aren't any virgins your age these days anyway. First I'll rape you, then take my time draining you. In the end, you'll be one of my ghouls."
He grabbed my shirt collar and yanked my neck close to his panting mouth. I screamed, perhaps for the last time.
Hold it.
A voice more chilling than death itself. A figure cloaked in black and crimson, blood-red eyes burning powerfully behind dark shades. Handsome, slender, aristocratic features gracing flawless, too-pale skin. And a gun – a long, gleaming, silver gun – clutched in the deceptively light grip of a dexterous gloved hand boasting long, muscled fingers.
I think you've had about enough fun.
My captor hadn't sensed this man. The expression of pure shock on his face told me as much.
Our surprise visitor sneered.
Youngsters these days. They're so… common. Whatever happened to moral values? Nothing more than the town punk. He snorted.
The vicar recovered quickly. His grip on me loosened momentarily, but I dared not run. Something about the newcomer screamed danger. I couldn't understand how my captor had missed it. But he blundered on, erroneously thinking that the black and crimson-clad stranger was outnumbered.
I didn't tell him that he was the one who was probably outmatched.
"Who are you, then? Some backwoods nit with bad timing?"
The newcomer's thin lips quirked into an eerie smile. Its seemed he was simultaneously amused and annoyed by the vicar's prompt dismissal of him.
My name's Alucard. I'm an agent who takes out the trash for the secret service Hellsing. A hit man, for the likes of you.
"Hit man, you say?" the vicar crowed, his hilarity growing. "Seriously? You? No lie?" He began to cackle gleefully, then gestured at the hordes of ghouls behind him.
"Kill him," he ordered with relish.
The gunfire was deafening. I didn't have a chance to shout out a warning before Alucard was torn apart before my eyes. It wasn't long before he was nothing but a bloody mess of flesh, blood, and smoking bullets on the ground. The vicar laughed hysterically, all rationale given into bloodlust.
"Spent already, hit man?" the vampire managed to crow in between cackles. The ghouls behind us began to stir hungrily, obviously hoping to gorge on Alucard's remains. My heart sunk in my chest as I realized I was probably next.
Heh heh heh… Heh heh! Ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA!!!
The vicar and the ghouls froze in surprise at the sound of his manic laughter. So did I.
All around us, blood-mist and shadows began to gather around the body. We could only stare in horror as Alucard once again began to take form.
Guns won't do a thing. A gun could never kill a vampire!
The dark figure eyed the vicar hungrily, eyes and teeth gleaming. Sweat began to pour out of the lesser vampire's pores out of fear. I don't know if it was a comforting thought. After all, this Alucard had come to rescue me… hadn't he?
They're useless! That is… ordinary guns!
He drew his pistol. The silver weapon gleamed impressively in the moonlight. His shades had been destroyed in the previous onslaught, and with them gone, I could finally see his eyes clearly. I could see Death reflected in them.
I don't know how many shots he fired. He shot so swiftly and with such accuracy that the ghouls seemed to fall to the sound of a single, long gunshot. After what seemed like only a moment, my captor and I stood stunned at the center of the massacre, unharmed.
"What the hell?" exclaimed the vicar. He was stunned that his undead army did not gather itself and stand again, ready to continue fighting. Alucard only smiled dangerously.
Suddenly it hit the vicar that he couldn't win. He began to panic. "Wh-why? Why do you? Why is a fellow vampire with the humans?"
Alucard stepped forward, eyes glowing. I could hear the mechanical sounds of his weapon being reloaded.
The problem with you little turds is that you go on these rampages whenever the urge hits you. If you keep playing this game, humans will go extinct and we all die out, you shortsighted punk.
He paused to light a cigar and took a long puff of it. Besides, it's kind of complicated, but I can't disobey the humans.
He finished loading his weapon and held it loosely at his side.
13mm explosive steel rounds, alloyed with silver melted from a Lanchester cathedral cross. There's no freak around who can eat these and come back for seconds.
He raised the pistol and pointed it at the vicar, who at this point was standing petrified beside me.
Die.
Before he could fire, the vicar acted in a last ditch, desperate attempt to save his own life. He grabbed me by the shoulders and held me against him as a human shield. Try as I might, I was too weak to break his superhumanly strong hold. My heart nearly gave out in terror. The last thing I wanted to happen after all that had occurred was for me to get killed. I had already survived so much.
"Quite enough, hit man!" the vicar commanded hoarsely, failing miserably to conceal his terror. "Not another step! She's the only survivor! Don't you want her to live? Why all the fuss, just let me go! Just pretend I got away!"
I stared at my unlikely savior in terror, willing him to hear my thoughts.
I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die!
Alucard smiled again, eyes measuring me closely.
Hey, girl. You a virgin?
Despite the life-and-death situation I was in, the nature of his question threw me off. I felt my cheeks turn hot as I blushed furiously.
"Wha… What're you goin' on about now?" the vicar demanded, confused but still frightened. Alucard ignored him.
I asked if you're a virgin! he demanded again.
"Wha… Eh! Bastard! Enough of this crap!"
ANSWER ME! he roared.
My heart jumped out of my chest as I responded reflexively, "Y–! Yes!"
He grinned.
And then he shot me through the chest.
I fell to the ground dazed as blood began to pour up and out of my windpipe, dribbling down the side of my mouth. I began to choke on it, and noticed mildly that the front of my shirt was also soaked in the stuff. The pain was unbelievable. I wondered vaguely why he had killed me, and why he had asked me such an absurd question before doing so.
In the background, Alucard finished off the vicar easily. Then, I registered that he was standing over me. He was blunt but, I felt, not unkind with his words.
I shot through your lung to hit his heart. Sorry, this gun leaves a big hole. You don't have long.
No, I thought. I don't want to die.
My killer looked down at me, red eyes calculating. What will you do?
I looked up at him, not understanding. The pain was starting to give way to numbness. I knew the end was near.
Alucard crouched down next to me and took another few draws of his cigar. Vampires can breed more vampires by drinking the blood of a virgin of the opposite sex, he said to me almost conversationally. If you choose, I can save you.
My eyes widened. I struggled to process this information as my vision began to fade at the edges.
The choice is yours. I can give you not life, but a living death. Once you choose the darkness, you can never return to the light. He exhaled a long breath of cigar smoke. Choose wisely.
What will you do? he repeated.
I could only choke and sputter up blood in response. After a few seconds of struggling, I managed to get coherent words out.
"I… don't… want… to die," I spat out, blood pouring out of my wounds.
The last thing I saw was his still figure. He moved slowly to remove his hat with a graceful, gloved hand. A small corner of my mind thought mildly that he had beautiful hair.
And then I died.
We were standing – or at least he was. I was only upright by virtue of his hands clasping onto my waist firmly, holding my body against his. I could feel his thin, cold lips on my neck. His teeth had pierced the skin there, and although I could feel it, it didn't hurt. Not like it should have, anyway. It was actually sort of pleasant.
His tongue ran hungrily over my neck, lapping up the blood oozing out of the two puncture wounds there. He drank quickly. Slowly, my strength returned. My arms soon had the strength to clutch awkwardly at the cloth on his back.
He followed the trail of blood that had dribbled down the side of my mouth earlier and kissed my mouth clean of any remaining blood. He looked at me unfathomably, eyes glittering darkly. I understood then that his hunger was sated for the time being.
His grip on my waist loosened. I was soon standing, swaying on my own two feet. I realized suddenly what was so different. It must have been hours past midnight, and yet I saw him – saw everything – as if it were high noon. It was unbelievable.
How do you feel?
It took me a while to think of the proper word to describe it.
I'm… cold.
He snorted. Of course you are. You're dead.
What? I exclaimed in panic. But… but I said I didn't want to die!
He rolled his eyes at me. Don't be ridiculous. You're dead… and you're simultaneously not. You're one of us, now.
One of who? I couldn't help but ask. He looked pensive for a moment before replying.
The Nosferatu. Midians. Vampires. Freaks. Abominations. We've been called many different names over the centuries.
I swallowed and stared off into the distance, trying to mentally process it all. Alucard made a sound in his throat that could have been an exasperated grunt.
What's your name? he asked me finally.
S-Seras, I answered quietly, trying my hardest not to stutter. Seras Victoria.
My master smiled enigmatically.
Well met, Seras Victoria. He reached down, wrapped my small figure in a blanket, and gathered me into his arms. Then he began to carry me back towards headquarters.
The image of his moonlit face at that moment will be imprinted in my memory forever.
Welcome… to my world.
Disclaimer: Hellsing is the creative property of Hirano Kouta. It is licensed and published by Dark Horse Manga in the United States.
Author's Note: Much of the dialogue above is borrowed directly from volume one of the Hellsing manga distributed by Dark Horse.