Discalimer: I do not claim to own hellsing, or Montana Max, both belong too and are copyrighted by Kouta Hirano.
He stood there staring out the window, watching the chaos before him his lips streached in a wicked smile as his heart beat fast hearing the gun shots. He closed his eyes briefly, he was still smiling when he opened his eyes once more but he was no longer in mansion overseeing a great battle. His smile fell when he realized where he was, he looked around seeing the tattered walls of his one room home. He returned his gaze to the window which was now busted and patched up with a piece of scrap wood. He turned his attention to the boy sitting down, a book in hand steadily reading, he studied the boy silently then a sound caught his ears. He turned again to see a man stumbling through the door slurring something in garbled german, as he flopped down on the floor as the man looked up at the boy in the corner and scoffed. Major frowned heavily, his usual smile long since disappeared, he loooked at the boy who was flipping a page to his book. Another noise startled him from his gaze as he looked seeing a woman and a man come through, she was clinging to his arm desprately as if her life depended on this strange man. She looked at the boy in the corner and said something to the stranger, as he looked at her, it was obvious he hadnt' expected to have visitors around. She assured him everything was okay, her husband was too drunk and her son was too stupid to understand. The man seem to buy this and proceeded to undress, kiss, touch and pleasure himself inside her.
Major listened to the creaking of the bed and the moans of the woman there, he looked over at the drunk who was laid against the wall drool running down the side of his mouth, dead. He let a smirk briefly cross his lips 'he deserved it' he thought to himself silently, he felt a brief stab of nostelgia hit him as he looked back at the boy who use to be him. He remember how violated he'd use to feel, being forced to watch his mother...no, this stranger pleasure another stranger day in and day out. He remember how wrong it had felt to start with, but slowly day after day he felt himself grow completely indifferent to it all, long forgetting reason and logic allowing himself to close away any emotions he'd had about it all. He remembered his fathers funeral, he remembered how his mother didn't even attempt to fake distress, in fact she was as cold-hearted as he'd become. He remembered that night as his mother, this stranger brought home more strangers to lay with, he remembered how it angered him, and brought him to the brink of blissful insanity.
He remembered clearly how heavy the gun felt in his hand, how the cold metal caused his body to wake up from it's indifferent state and become alive, how his heart beated fast and hard in anticipation. He felt calm, but so alive as he felt the weight of the gun in his hand, he remembered crossing the room, every second feeling like a whole eternity as he eyed his target with pure determination and enjoyment. He marveled at how good it felt to press the cold barrel against the woman's head. His smile returned when he rememberd the sound of the gun going off startling awake the stranger she'd been sleeping against. He remembered staring down the stranger who was both horrified and scared all at once, the panic in his eyes made his heart leap still. He remembered how the man, who'd been shaking, froze completely when he aimed his now smoking gun in his face. Not allowing him to even beg for his life, he pulled the trigger killing the man instantly. He looked at both the dead bodies, calm as could be as he placed the gun in his mothers hand. He picked up the phone, somehow he managed tears as he told them what had transpired, when they arrived they comforted him, assuring him it wasn't his fault. He pretended to be consoled but in reality he was thrilled, it left him aching for more.
He remembered wondering the streets for days, maybe even months he'd long since lost count. It was then that one day a man, a tall militant man came upon him, and like a god out of the clear blue sky asked, "Are you lost?" he remembered being awed and moved "No" he remembered replying "You have strong eyes...I am building an army to purify this world, to bring about a war like no other, to burn and slash those who are unworthy to live in it...i see strength in you" the man said and took the gun from his hip holster and offered it to him "do you see that hooker? she's unfit to be in this world, selling her body, she's a dog, an animal not deserving to wake to the new dawn...kill her" he said. He recalled the same feeling again as his heart lept with anticipation, as he aimed the gun, steading his hand and shot the woman without a flicker of fear or remorse. He remembered the god like man smiling at him, "You will be a great officer" he said as he took him and reared him, he came to love the taste of war, distruction, mayham...he came to love the thrill of all of it. No matter what it was, defensive, offensive, the smell of burning flesh as it came on the breeze, all of it, exciting him making his heart beat fast. He was finally alive again, he served this god-like man, the man who gave him a taste of the forbidden fruit of war. He admired him, and somewhere within his cold heart, adored him as well.
It was at this point of his memories when they were shattered by the rattling of the mansion as he felt that usual smirk streach across his face. "I love war" he whispered, as he continued to watch it, it was almost like poetry to him, this feeling, these sights. He looked to where the soilders were fucking women and smirked as he turned back remembering how meaningless sex was, but war always had meaning and he held it dear to his heart. He nodded again once again finding his rightful place in the midst of war. He pressed his hand against the glass that was now orange from the fire alit outside "...yes...war is my ultimate passion, my life...and me..." he said and watched his reflection in the glass "I love war"