First Hellsing fanfic, story inspired by the song "Battle Scars" by Guy Sebastian. This is not beta read so please if you see any mistakes tell me. Don't forget the review. Thank you!


The carpets were soaked with blood. With every step she took a disgusting wet sound was made. Body parts were scattered everywhere. Her men torn to pieces by some undead trash.

The pain one would have thought she would be feeling after getting shot in the eye was non-existent. All she felt at the moment was a sort of numbness that she had never felt before.

Her feet carried her through the ruined halls of the Hellsing manner. Without her knowing, her bruised and aching body took her to a place that she rarely visited. By some miracle when she open the large metal doors the hallway was lit up in a dull yellow light. As she walked closer and closer to the end of the corridor, the more everything seem to start to sink in.

Her one good eye started to blur with tears, soon after half of her face was wet. The blood, sweat and other things that clung to her made her feel filthy. With as much speed as she could muster she ripped off her coat and clawed at her tie. Gasping for the musky air of the basement. When they were off she threw them to the grown in a haste.

She walked at a faster pace, then suddenly she stopped in her tracks. The large double doors that were presented before her made her gasp, her eyes widen and for once in a long while she was afraid. The great Sir, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was afraid.

Afraid of what she would find behind the large doors. For when open, would of just serve as evidence of what transpired that very same day, but she had to see herself and pray that it was just a sick joke.

With bated breath she forced the doors open to see an empty throne, with a glass of wine untouched on a table next to the chair. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light she noticed that everything was empty and dark.

Integra was left alone, wounded and broken.

As she moved deeper into the room the tears that she was trying to stop now came in gut wrenching sobs. The doors behind her slammed shut and she was engulfed in darkness. At that moment she fell to the ground, one hand fisted the fabric of her trousers while the other came up to her injured eye.

Something warm seeped into her hand and right away she knew it was her own blood. Finally the pain that she should have felt long ago, hit her like a train. She cried out and threw herself to the ground. She let go of her trousers and removed her hand from her bloody eye. Soon after she ran her dirty hands through her hair, half of it staining in red. She moved her hands down her head to come rest on her arms where she dug her nails into the soft flesh.

Broken sobs were all you could hear, she rocked back and forth, crying for all the dead, crying for the loss of London, crying for her own humanity that was almost destroyed. She let herself go and she hit the ground, clawed at the concrete, screamed at the top of her lungs. She was once again a sacred little girl who didn't know what to do.

But she didn't care she was simply human. A human forces to wear a mask to keep everything in order, to make her look untouchable. However that was not that case that day. She had lost good men, a good friend who she also saw as a father. Then she lost her...her what? Her monster, slave, solider?

Never mind the labels she had lost Alacard. The very thing that would have burned the world for her if that was what she wanted. He was her eternal companion, their bond ran deeper that master and slave. He was suppose to have stayed with her for an eternity.

She looked up at the looming throne.

Integra lost, she lost everything and there was nothing that could have done, on her part, to stop it.

"Alacard come back...that an order."