And so, the authoress emerges from the darkness of hiatas-dom and returns a writer once more! I'm sorry to everyone who's waited for me to update my stuff. As you can see, Hellsing has caught my interest and therefore holds the key to my inspiration. Be at ease, ye faithful readers; updates are not to be long in coming. Hellsing and all related characters(except for the ones I've made for this story) belong to Kouta Hirano. Story belongeth to moi.
London. There are few cities who can attest to its splendour, even the cobblestones renowned world-wide for their cold magnificence. But there are even fewer who can claim to have been a battleground for the two ruling species of the planet. A battle that started long before the hunt for Frankenstein, or even the slaying of dragons by foolish knights. Humans, on one side, known for their grasp on technology and intelligence but also for their naivety. At the moment, they are leading the race for survival, although most are not aware of there being a battle at all. On the other side, there are the Monsters. Ghouls, ghosts and creepy-crawlies alike with powers and desires considered 'unholy' by the entirety of the human race. They, unlike the humans, know quite well of the war they struggle to win each night on the streets of England.
Monsters were not always so hateful towards humans. In the beginning they saw humans as kinsmen, and were kind and gentle with these fragile creatures. But the fragility of mankind is never more apparent than in their minds. They feared and envied the powers of the Monsters, and saw them as obstacles in the path to glory and happiness. It was not Monsters who first raised the bloody flag, but humans. Weak, terrified humans transfixed by their own greed.
But the Monsters of today are not the timid creatures they once were. They are malevolent, long ago having discovered the pleasure and power of war and human flesh. They are instinctively drawn to this dark country, where they can smell the blood of their kindred spirits and lament the passing of great Immortals. And humans cannot do anything but defend themselves against an enemy they've forgotten they provoked.
That particular night found a dark pavement road visited by an unfamiliar figure. A woman, dressed surprisingly light for such a chilly night, let her footsteps echo across the street where she knew they were not heard. To the world, she did not exist.
She wore a plain green t-shirt, camouflage cargo pants and black boots, the simple attire contrasting with the feminine curves of her body. Her hair was the colour of honey and pulled back into a short, almost spiky pony-tail. Her skin was pale, reflecting the light of the full moon above. To most, based on this description, she could have passed as a normal eighteen-year old quite easily, but for three things: She had a belt around her waist carrying nearly a dozen different weapons, a large shotgun strapped to her back and large, red eyes, glaring at the world. Suffice to say, not a normal combination.
The woman traveled onwards, finding her way easily despite the lack of lighting. She found her way to a dark, secluded alleyway and stopped. Then she looked upwards, at the bright red sky that seemed to cloud the stars and embrace the moon like a long-lost lover. A sky that reminded her of another night long past.
But her reverie was interrupted by the sound of shuffling footsteps and angry hisses. Despite the sudden intruder she did not turn, only remained standing and staring skywards. The woman knew without seeing who this man was: a weak vampire with a nasty habit of killing children and was wanted by several organizations across the world. Including her own.
The vampire, dressed in rags and breath smelling of fresh blood, waited a moment before descending upon her, fangs bared. She did not even flinch as the fangs sunk into her arm, letting the filth realize that he would not find sweet human blood but dark, venomous poison.
She pulled a pistol from her belt as he recoiled from her, spitting out the poison when he found it burned his mouth. She raised the gun to his forehead, eyes unblinking.
"What the hell?!" the vampire exclaimed when he found his green eyes matched by red ones. "You're a vampire, too?" The woman's eyes narrowed, not in anger but in disgust.
"Don't compare me to you, scum." She said before pulling the trigger.
The woman stepped back out into the dimly lit street, wiping a streak of black blood from her arm as it healed. Just as she was about to turn the corner a sharp beeping noise indicated her cell phone was ringing. She grabbed it and held it to her ear.
"Yo, Seras. What's up?" the voice asked.
"I'm pissed off, that's what's up." She snarled into the receiver. "I explicitly tell you people that I want to stay out of England, and where do you send me?"
"Whoa, whoa! Don't spaz out on me; I'm just your Linkmaster. Take it up with the big cheese." The man on the other end said. "By the way, how did the purification go?"
"The stupid bastard was weak. Can you please get a plane ready for me before I freak out? Being here any longer could put me in big trouble."
"Sure, just a sec." The man replied, and then there was a pause. Seras tapped her feet impatiently, worried at the pregnancy of the silence.
"Uh, Seras?" he asked, hesitantly. "I kinda have some bad news."
"I swear to God, Joshua, if this is what I think you're about to say-"
"It's Malcolm. He's e-mailed me, saying there's gonna be a vampire at this big ball tonight. The Queen's there and everything!"
Seras swore, resisting the temptation to crush the cell phone. But she controlled herself long enough to hiss,
"Let me guess. Hellsing's gonna be there. And that's why Malcolm wanted me in England in the first place: so I'd have to go."
"Pretty much. Look, Seras," Joshua said, voice containing a hint of concern, "If you don't think you can handle it-"
"I can handle one stupid vampire well enough, Joshua." Seras barked into the phone, picking up her pace. "But I joined up with you guys so I would have some security against you-know-damn-well-who. And after a year of service you throw me to the lions!"
Seras sighed, static greeting her ears and letting her know her words were ill-chosen.
"Look. I'll do it, all right? Quick in-and-out job, right?"
"Yep. Plus, I'm sending over your coffin. Got it all tricked out, just for you babe."
"Thanks." Seras replied, turning her gaze once more to the foreboding sky as her gut wrenched. She prayed with all her might that the ominous evening would not be her last.
Just once, Integra thought, a migraine gnawing at her skull, could we have an uneventful night?
Integra glared down at the mess before her. Several women were drenched in pink punch, clinging to their partners in distress. Their partners were similarly covered in sticky juice, and just as upset and irritated. But no one was more so than the young, sharp-faced woman situated in the middle of the disaster area, anger and humiliation flooding her face even more so than the ugly concoction staining her blue satin dress.
"Alu!" The girl shrieked, pounding her gloved hands down on the hard tile floor. "How could you?!" The black locks fell around her face as her eyes filled with tears.
Her cries were pointed at a very tall man, wearing a black tuxedo and yellow sunglasses that, surprisingly, suited him very well. His mid-length black hair contrasted with his unnaturally pale complexion, and it was painfully obvious how much he was struggling to keep a delighted smirk from gracing his hard features. Integra stood beside him, wearing a plain green dress and shooting him an angry glare.
"Alucard!" Integra growled irritably, "Must you always cause such a fuss?"
"My deepest apologies, Master. And to you, Lady Ashcroft," came the reply, deep in voice and hardly apologetic. He held out a hand to the woman, who took it and stood up with great theatrics.
"When I get back, Alu," she said, and Alucard cringed at the disgustingly affectionate pet name, "I expect you to accept my greetings a little more gratefully. After all," she sniffed, pulling her wet hair behind her ears with great disdain, "It is not everyday one has the chance to speak to one such as myself."
With that, she daintily stepped over the struggling guests, gave a little bow to the enthroned and slightly bewildered host and left to seek out a restroom. The atmosphere in the room seemed to lighten considerably at her departure.
"And, with that," Alucard grinned malevolently, fangs glinting in the bright light of the ballroom, "The she-demon makes her exit."
"Come here." Integra snarled, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the wreckage. Butlers and maids were already hard at work, apologizing to guests and directing them to the restrooms with new clothes in tow. The Queen overlooked the entire disarray, nodding to her other guests to resume the frivolities. No one dared to disobey, and so the ball continued.
"Would it have been too much to ask for you to have let Miss Lydia hug you just this once?" she hissed at him, and his eyebrows furrowed in discontent at the thought. "You didn't have to dodge her, and thus create a frightful debacle!"
"I believe I already apologized, did I not?" he said, adjusting his sunglasses. "Can I help it if I have Gorgons chasing after me?"
"Call her a Gorgon to her face and I'll ship you to the sun. I've no desire to deal with her father, that pompous Lord Ashcroft." Integra said, and then turned her eyes to the Queen's throne. The ballroom was truly a sight to behold, glistening as if lined with pearls and diamonds, which wasn't far from the truth. The throne was gilded with gold and rubies, and upon it sat the Queen of England. She was dressed in regalia befitting her status, a pale violet gown embroidered in delicate designs and decorated with various gems, not to be outdone by the tiara adorning her head. But Integra's eyes wandered to the man standing beside her, dressed formally but nothing suiting a lord or ambassador. His eyes were shifty, his stance rigid and tense.
"Does he seem… nervous to you, Alucard?" Integra asked, gesturing with a flick of her wrist.
"One would think so. He's the Queen's lead advisor, after all. Such an event puts her at great risk for assassination." He looked down at his partner with a sly grin. "Does he make you uncomfortable? I could easily-"
"No." Integra silenced him with her command. "It's just-"
She looked at the man again, her eyes narrowing. Her intuition told her something was off about that man, but it was probably nothing to be concerned about. Still…
"It's nothing. " Integra finished, forcing the thoughts from her mind. Walter was outside, patrolling the grounds with two hundred of her best men. There was nothing to fear.
Or so she told herself, forgetting the suspicious man as the ball wove its entrancing spell over the attendants and pushed uneasy thoughts to their depths.
"Take a left. Now, a right." Seras heard from her headset. "You're almost there."
"How much time have I got left?" She asked, the wind ripping through her hair as she weaved in and out of the late-night traffic. She was decked out in full battle-armor: her plain green clothes were replaced by a slim-fitting tank top and leggings, and around her chest was a leather sash, on which were attached grenades and several ammunition clips. She sat on a black motorcycle, and attached to either side of the motorcycle were guns of several styles and sizes, none of them recognizable for they were customized in such a way as to be effective for vampire use. The motorcycle itself was made of a strange black metal that contoured to suit Seras perfectly.
"Just over five minutes, if our little snitch was telling the truth. That vampire is going to bite the Queen at midnight."
"Why on earth would he do that, anyway? That's just asking for it."
"Apparently he's part of a vampire terrorist organization called 'Purity's Blood.' They're really gung-ho about Hellsing killing off England's undead population."
"Great. So why am I here?" Seras demanded, swerving out of the way just in time to avoid careening into a truck.
"One, you're still technically a British citizen. Dead bodies can't get our citizenship. Two, Purity's Blood in an international terrorist organization. They've already hit the homes of some vigilante vampire hunters back home, so we can hunt em' down if we darn well feel like it." Joshua answered. Seras was about to argue, but decided against it.
"Whatever, just so long as I'm not staking out somebody else's turf. Nice job on my coffin, by the way." Seras said into the headset, patting the bike affectionately. "She's never looked better."
"Yeah, well, I couldn't send you to a family reunion with a hunk of crap, now could I?" Joshua replied, and Seras heard the flurried sound of computer keys. "Almost there. There's a perimeter set up, but if you use an R-type screen you'll get in no problem."
"All right." Seras nodded, speeding up her bike with both anticipation for the hunt and dread for what she knew was coming. She could already sense the familiar presences she feared as she drew closer to the brightly lit building, and her only consolation was that she had taken many measures to prevent them from sensing her as well. Otherwise, she would never have made it to England without his knowledge.
"You've been unusually quiet this evening, Alucard." Integra stated, chewing on her cigar thoughtfully. The party had resumed its vigor, but she had no taste for parties like these.
"Does it displease you? I had no idea you loved the sound of my voice so much, Master." Alucard smirked, teasing her in that evil way of his.
"Is it because of Miss Victoria?"
The grin on his face weakened to become more like a scowl.
"Why would you say that?"
"A gut feeling." Integra replied, letting a breath of smoke escape her lips. "It has been a year, hasn't it? Are you still bitter?"
Alucard chuckled. "'Bitter' is an interesting way to put it. I would choose 'amused', myself."
"Sulking for three months is your way of being amused?" she asked. "I would hate to see you actually sulking, then. I do believe you took ten years off Walter's lifespan with those ugly antics of yours. Not to say he wasn't upset when Police girl left, of course."
Alucard didn't reply. He let his ruby eyes roam to the skylights, staring out into the sky above.
"What a perfect night." He said and smiled, the act causing tremors of cold dread to crawl up Integra's spine.
"Three." Joshua's voice stated.
Seras shoved ammunition into the barrel of her rifle with a satisfying set of clicks.
"Two."
She pulled a small glowing container from a pouch on her ammo strap and pressed several buttons on its side, causing it to light up and beep.
"One."
Seras prayed to the Almighty that she make it out of this alive… or as alive as she was now.
"GO!"
Seras threw the container she held out into the middle of a party of patrolling Hellsing officers from behind a large tree. The Hellsing officers noticed the object just in time to see it release a huge cloud of bluish-green gas that swept over the surrounding area like a tidal wave.
Seras took her chance and leapt out from the tree, running as quickly as she could towards the huge doors while still holding her rifle in one arm. The soldiers barely noticed; not only did the gas blind them, it caused them to fall to the ground, unconscious but unharmed.
In the disarray one man suddenly charged at Seras, blocking her from the doors. She was surprised, as most people could barely think when subjected to this gas. It was designed to be effective against enemy humans and civilians who got in the way during purifications: made to render them useless but not to injure. Her superiors refused to condone taking human life, for any reason.
"I'm afraid I can't let you enter." The man said, his mouth muffled by the handkerchief he held over his mouth. He couldn't see her very well, but Seras saw him clearly: another perk of being a vampire. He was dressed in attire befitting a caretaker of some sort, and he wore a monocle over his left eye. He appeared to be in his fifties, if the wrinkles lining his face were anything to go by, but his build and movements betrayed an untapped fountain of youth. The sight was enough to make Seras's undead heart flutter, as she realized she knew this man.
Oh, god, it's Walter! Seras cried out in her mind, distress suddenly tearing at her insides. The kind, gentle man who had been like a grandfather to her at Hellsing. Her one, true friend in her old life. What cruel karma had she racked up to be pitted against him, of all people?
A shred of good fortune was still visible, however; he could not see her. He couldn't tell that this intruder was Seras, and so she wouldn't have to see the look of sorrow and pain crease those gentle features. Above all else, she hated those she cared about being hurt by her actions, one of the few things that had not changed with her "rebirth".
"As the retainer of Hellsing," Walter said, tying the handkerchief around his face, "I cannot allow you to endanger our beloved Queen. Stand aside or I will be forced to take action."
He flicked his wrists and a net of almost invisible steel fibers rose up from the ground and caught her legs, each end attached to one of his gloved fingers like a puppeteer.
No, not a puppeteer, Seras thought, desperately tearing the threads with her hands and breaking into a sprint towards the doors, a spider.
But tiny threads still clung to her clothes and skin, and they burrowed into her flesh like snakes. Every time she neared the doors he would feel the tension and yank on them, sending her flying towards him and into another metal web. And each time he did so, she would rip the threads and try again.
I've barely got two minutes left. There's got to be another way! She thought, eyes searching the area with as much focus as she could muster. The threads were deeply engraved into her skin, now, and the pain of trying to heal over them was excruciating. Then her eyes settled on a tree nearby, and an idea burst into her head.
Walter stalked towards her through the smokescreen, eyes watering from the exposure but keeping his determined composure. "I fear I have misjudged your character," he said, making small gestures with his hands and thereby tugging painfully at Seras's limbs, "I had assumed you were a weak human assassin, but it seems you are able to withstand a great many injuries. A vampire, perhaps?"
Seras did not answer him; speaking would just give her identity away. Instead she used all her strength and ran behind the tree, leaping up and around its long branches. She entangled the threads in the branches like a maypole, and as she neared the top she entwined the threads in her bleeding hands and pulled.
Walter was yanked forward strongly and hit the tree, not hard enough to injure but certainly enough to stun. Seras used the threads in her hands to cut off a small branch and, with some difficulty, tied the long length of fiber to it. Before Walter regained his senses she swung the makeshift pendulum like a tether ball around the tree, tying Walter securely to it without leaving the firm branch she stood on.
"Sorry." She whispered to the struggling retainer. Walter continued to thrash at his own bonds as she turned her remorseful gaze away from him and towards her goal.
The branch was parallel to one of the ballroom's windows, and close enough to jump from without difficulty. She readied her rifle and used the scope to look inside. Her line of vision was limited to the north end of the ballroom, where the Queen was seated. And, beside her, stood-
"Gotcha." She said, lowering the rifle with a pleased smile. Her prey, her purpose for being here. Once he was dead, she could go back home.
"Damn you!" Walter exclaimed, desperately trying to wrench himself from the tree. "If you lay a hand upon Her Majesty or Sir Integra I swear I shall-"
"Be at ease." Seras said softly, silencing him. "I'm not here to killthe Queen of England."
I'm going to save her. But not because she's the Queen- it's to prove to everyone I'm capable of living my own life.
"Who are you?!" Walter demanded angrily, and Seras felt another wrench of pain tear at her insides. She wanted so badly to comfort him, but doing that would be pointless. It'd be better to think her some strange enemy than a traitorous friend. "Who do you work for?!"
She ignored him as she crouched and allowed her vampire-self take over, gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes against the passing pain of her fangs lengthening and her muscles turning to steel cables, writhing underneath her dead, melting flesh. She needed to do this, as much as she despised it- she knew very well who was in that building. He overpowered her by at least a thousand times, and she needed every shred of power she had to get in and out as fast as possible.
Her whole body shuddered as she felt it release all her pent-up anxiety and worries like a dam, the dark waters of her existence drowning out the noise of the world in a symphony of both pleasure and pain. Her whole body was now a looming shadow, and she was acutely aware of the lilting wisps of black energy that now surrounded her, swirling around her changed body as extensions of her very soul.
What will he think of me? She wondered weakly as her essence lifted her from the branch and into the cold night air. I've sold my soul- I've become the thing I swore I'd never be. Her red eyes opened, unblinking and viewing the world as a true creature of the night.
She launched herself through the air, letting the moon's glow embrace her, barely noticing the glass's feeble resistance against her entry. As of right then, she was no longer Seras Victoria; she was member of the undead, a vampire and Nosferatu of her own right, racing to face her own fears.
"One minute until midnight." Integra noted, thoroughly bored. "I'm rather surprised; I had expected some sort of attempt on the Queen's life, since this is the easiest time to do so. I suppose our security is more intimidating than I thought."
"Perhaps it is merely my infallible charms that keep them at bay." Alucard said, chuckling at his own little joke.
He does have a way of warding off attackers, Integra admitted grudgingly. Otherwise I'd never have brought him here. My officers are more than capable of handling assassins.
"Speaking of infallible charms," Integra smirked, nodding in the direction of a small group of youths, "Is that not Miss Lydia making her way here?"
Alucard grimaced as he found her words to be true; Miss Lydia was forcing herself through the mingling couples in a determined attempt to reach him. She wore a disgustingly pink dress drowning in large ruffles and a fur scarf. Where she managed to find such an outfit, even he could not guess.
"Alu!" she called, her high voice resembling the shrill cries of a dying whale, "Alu, dearest! I'm baaack!"
"No kidding." He grumbled, just low enough to evade her hearing. Integra shot him a warning look.
Lydia seemed not to notice his animosity towards her, even as she latched herself onto his arm. She looked up at him, her green eyes boring possessively into his.
"Did you miss me?" she demanded, but she didn't give him a chance to reply, as she continued, "Of course you did. Who wouldn't?" she asked, and though it was obviously rhetorical he had half a mind to answer.
Integra sighed. Had this woman no restraint? Her obsession with Alucard was somewhat acceptable, but to advertise her own arrogance was simply sickening. Integra decided to try and relieve poor Alucard from this misery, and quickly thought of an excuse to get rid of her.
"Miss Lydia, don't you think it's time to-" she began, but Integra didn't finish her sentence, as she was interrupted by the sounds of breaking glass and screams. The glass had come from one of the huge windows, and it was propelled with such force that Alucard had to block their way from harming the humans behind him. Had he not been ordered to protect the guests, he wouldn't have bothered. Inside his mind he cursed the weakness and stupidity of humans, causing him such a hassle for such tiny objects to pose such a troublesome threat.
"Eek!" Lydia shrieked, clinging to him. "What's happening, Alu?!"
A figure, cloaked in shadows, flew forward from the window in a burst of inhuman speed, past the guests and towards the Queen's throne. Integra barely had time to react, the black blur racing past her in huge strides barely visible with mortal eyes. The figure turned to look at her, and Integra saw blood-red eyes regard her with unreadable emotions in the few milliseconds it took to pass her line of vision.
"Alucard! Protect the Queen!!" Integra screamed, and Alucard burst into action. He raced forward, rapidly tearing his twin guns from the confines of his tux and passing the figure entirely, stopping a few feet in front of the Queen and turning to face the attacker. Several bodyguards regained their senses and threw themselves in front of their monarch, a weak effort compared to Alucard's looming presence.
The attacker halted immediately, only having reached the mid-point of the huge hall. The on-lookers backed away from this intruder, pressing themselves against the walls in an attempt to keep their distance. The figure, a creature of pure darkness, was only vaguely human-shaped and had two glowing eyes that narrowed at the sight of Alucard.
"It's been a while since I've fought a true vampire." Alucard said, pointing his Jackal at it, his eyes flashing with insane glee. "This should be fun."
The figure suddenly ripped a long, elegantly shaped rifle from the depths of its shadows and held it along the length of its left arm, pointing it at him and hissing loudly. Huge, sharp teeth gleamed as it did so, and the feral expression only excited Alucard more.
Their eyes met, the distance between them meaningless. They both stood, still as statues but for the casual movements of the creature's flickering shadows.
Its slender, curving form told Alucard that it was female, but her thoughts were guarded so intensely from him that he was unable to discover anything else. The very fact that she was able to do so intrigued him, as few vampires were capable of mind-reading, even fewer able to combat it. She had to be Nosferatu; her ability to invoke enough darkness to change her form was proof of that. Or, at least, was sired by one.
"Such a waste." He said, almost regretfully, and fired.
The bullets ripped through the vampire's chest, taking her aback for a moment as the silver projectiles passed through her and into the wall behind her. But the holes in her body quickly sealed and she raised her rifle once more.
Alucard waited, seemingly for her next move. He was curious as to what sort of weapon she carried; he had an interest in all weapons of war, and he loved going against an armament he'd never encountered.
She suddenly released a silver bullet of her own, the slug barely grazing his shoulder.
"Is that all?" Alucard grinned, the tiny cut gone in the blink of an eye. "Your aim is worse than I-"
He was cut off by something behind him uttering an inhuman screech, followed by screams from the crowd. He turned his head and watched, surprised, as the man that Integra had pointed out turned to a pile of dust. The bullet had not been aimed at him, or even the Queen, but the shifty-eyed advisor, who had been a vampire all along.
He tore his gaze away from the remains of the impostor just in time to see the vampire racing towards the doors, but she was much slower this time.
"Running out of strength, are we?" he laughed, and took up the chase.
Crap! Seras screamed in her head, running as fast as she could. Not yet!
She could only hold her true form for so long; otherwise, it drained her completely of blood and left her no better than a common corpse. The only option she had, now, was to summon her coffin-bike and get the hell out of there. Fast.
But she looked behind her and saw Alucard, her former master, hot in pursuit. Although he was dressed differently than usual, he had not changed; the same aquiline features, raven-black hair and chilling smile made up his profile. His movements were not laboured, like hers, but fluid. In every respect he outdid her, and the knowledge was nearly unbearable; that she, who had undergone so many trials to get where she was, would never come close to his power.
She felt the wind rush past her as she moved, stripping away her shadows and revealing more of her normal appearance with each stride. She was still a dozen metres away from the exit, and already her arms were back to normal. If this kept up, her identity would be given away and all her efforts would be in vain. Seras had no idea what the Hellsing organization did to runaways, but she gathered it wouldn't be nice.
Only a few feet separated her from the doors. She could dimly hear Integra barking out commands:
"Get the Queen to the safe room!" she screamed at her subordinates stationed around the room. "Alucard, capture that vampire! Alive!"
"Yes, Master Integra." Alucard replied in mid-stride, keeping his crimson eyes on his prey. Now the difference between them was a mere three feet.
Seras used the momentum from her running to bash through the wooden doors, turning them to kindling as she escaped. She noticed, frustrated, that the screen had dissipated and the officers were back on their feet. Strangely, none of them were attacking her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Walter, thankfully unharmed, calling out to Alucard as the two raced by.
"I'll leave her to you, Alucard!" he yelled, a grim smile pointed in the direction of his old friend. Alucard flashed him a smirk, already proclaiming himself victorious.
Of course, Seras would have none of that. Concentrating her mind, she called out to her coffin from where she had left it, in a garage two streets away. In her mind's eye she could feel the motorcycle shaking, desperately trying to reach her.
Come! She shrieked in her head, and the bike rippled into existence beneath her body. It materialized from a cloud of fog, lifting her up and onto its steel contours, matching her body's speed effortlessly. When Alucard saw the motorcycle's sudden appearance his smile only widened, even as the bike sped up.
"I see you have some interesting toys." He noted aloud, and Seras tried very hard to ignore his arrogant tone, "Are you always so resourceful?"
She answered him by ramming her bike into the fence surrounding the building, even more of her shadowy disguise being stripped from her as she desperately sought a way to escape him. He followed her at a leisurely stride, even though they had taken their chase into the traffic of London's streets.
Her eyes darted back and forth, one part of her mind seeking a new route and the other preventing her from colliding with the few cars sprinkled on the endless roads. Her determination and calm had left her with her strength, and she knew he smelled her fear. Her grasp on the situation was rapidly slipping through her fingers.
"Won't you answer me? It's polite to introduce oneself, you know." He said, and she turned to look at him, her shadowed face thinning but not her irritation. Couldn't he see she was trying to drive?
"I hardly deem you worthy of politeness." She replied icily, masking her voice as much as she could. It wouldn't do to look too suspicious, after all.
The sudden retort seemed to catch him off guard. "I suggest," Seras continued, turned her bike to take them down a quieter road, "that you leave me in peace. I haven't hurt any of your comrades, and my mission just saved the Queen's life. I have no qualms with you or your organization." To further emphasize her disposition she raised her faithful rifle, pointing it at his head with a calmness that scared even her. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Is that so?" he purred, grinning lopsidedly, and she hesitated. Nothing she did could actually harm him, but the fear was still there, gnawing at her mind.
How many times have you seen him killed!? Her logical mind shrieked at her. This is no different; it'll delay him enough to let you go! What are you waiting for?!
Her pause gave him a window of opportunity; he phased out existence before her eyes, shocking her from her inner debate and she looked around for any sight of him. His disappearance only added to her stress. Where had he gone?
"Little draculina!" his voice shattered her wonderment, and she abruptly spun her shadowed head back to her front and saw him standing in the middle of the road, casually holding his Jackal in her direction. He wasn't in the least bit perturbed by her bike's relentless movement, and actually grinned at her. A lunatic's grin, of course, carrying no trace of compassion or even sanity.
She instinctively set her hands on the bike's handles, prepared to change her direction if need be, as his expression held no indication of moving. What irked her most, though, was that he looked so damn arrogant.
"Let's even the battleground, shall we?" he called out, and abruptly fired his Jackal with deadly accuracy. His aim was not at her, but at the front wheel of her bike, which abruptly exploded into tiny pieces of rubber. Seras lurched as the front of her bike nose-dived into the pavement, leaping off just in time to avoid the bike's collision with a telephone pole. The explosion sent her otherwise graceful descent into a tailspin, the pressure knocking her to the ground.
She swore, finding her feet and knees on solid ground once again and looking back at the remains of her coffin-bike, the stored weapons streaks of melted metal on the sidewalk.
"Well, so much for that plan." She murmured angrily, and then she saw black boots, still and waiting, a mere foot from her face. Seras gasped, surprised at how close he was now.
She looked up at Alucard. He looked triumphant, the epitome of gleeful spite blaring down on her at her predicament. It was only then that she realized the heat and wind of the explosion had stripped her jaw of her shadow-essence, and the rest of her face was following suit.
Panic clutched at her heart, and she whirled around to make a run for it. She could not, under any circumstances, allow him to catch her!
But he was faster, much faster. In the moment it took her to turn her head, Alucard had grabbed the collar of her shirt and wrenched her upwards, trapping her in his gloved grip and dangling her from the ground. She writhed against him, clawing at his arm, but he just chuckled.
"Struggling won't do you any good; I'm many years your senior, young one." He smirked, lifting his other hand to her half-concealed face. "Let's end your little charade."
He passed his hand over her face, shattering the fragments of her disguise with one subtle movement. Seras squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her strength melt, and she fell limp in his grasp. She was doomed.
He held the girl high in the air, waving away the troublesome shadows that tried to hide her from him with his gloved hand. At first, he saw the obvious; mid-length blond hair, pale skin, eyes scrunched tight at his stranglehold on her black shirt. Nothing particularly strange.
Then reality hit him square in the face; he knew this woman. The face was unmistakable, the young innocence of her features perpetually painted there. Oh, there were some differences; her clothes, her hairstyle. But despite everything, her identity was obvious. His eyes widened for a moment with recognition, then narrowed, studying her from behind his yellow sunglasses.
"Police girl?" he hissed, disbelief grinding his former amusement into dust. She opened her eyes slightly, looking up at him. Her expression was that of a child, caught after stealing someone else's toy.
His grip tightened, and wrath of a sort he hadn't known in several centuries suddenly eclipsed thought. This woman, barely an infant in vampire terms, thought to run away and then suddenly return without any thought to the consequences?
Alucard's arm shook with rage, his usually complacent expression now wild and angry, and he clenched his sharp teeth in an effort to control himself. She looked at him, meeting his glare with a frightened but stubborn gaze.
"Let me go." She said, not a plea, but a subtle and quiet command, laced with nervous tension. He did not answer, nor did his eyes falter in their capture of hers.
"You ran away." He said, and a tiny blush of shame touched her cheeks. "Why?"
She didn't answer, and he growled, giving her a shake. "Answer me, Police girl!"
"Don't call me that!" she snarled, the hatred in her voice surprising him. "I am Seras Victoria, and don't you forget it, Alucard!"
His other hand moved with astonishing speed, grabbing her throat and squeezing it.
"You dare order me around?" he sneered, "You, my little fledgling, use my name so easily?"
She continued to glare defiantly at him, so that his temper only grew worse.
"You had the audacity to try and escape your master, and now you return and expect me to indulge your misbehavior by obeying you?!" He snarled, and Seras only stared, fear gripping her much tighter than his hands. "You are mine! My will is what keeps you here, and it was my interference that made you what you are! No matter where you are, or how powerful you become, you will always belong to me!"
Seras paled, watching him become angrier and more dangerous by the moment. She knew, instinctively, that what he said was true, but she had tried too hard to simply give in. With all the remaining strength she had, she said,
"You said the choice was always mine, Alucard. I chose to become a vampire, I chose to join the Hellsing organization, and then I chose to run away. And I am yours no longer."
Alucard just stared at her, their gazes locked for what seemed an eternity. He searched her face for a trace of uncertainty, but it was not there. What she said was not a lie; he could no longer feel their blood-bond, and her thoughts were guarded from his with a power that was not hers. Did she have someone helping her?
The thought of her having a new master made him seethe with childish jealousy. It made sense; she could not have gained such power by herself, of that he was sure. But this stranger had simply waltzed in and fueled her rebellion against him, teaching her what was his to teach? This trash had just earned himself a one-way ticket to Hell.
"Perhaps it was." He said, the words forced through clenched teeth. "Perhaps it is true that you are no longer mine, and that you have found some filthy scum to latch onto for protection."
His use of the term 'filthy scum' brought a new wave of fury to Seras's face, and she bared her fangs at him, forgetting for a moment the fact she was hanging in mid-air from his hand.
"He is not scum." She hissed. Alucard pretended not to notice, but to be honest her protective reaction only added to his dislike for this mysterious new benefactor.
"But, Police girl," he growled, "whatever your reasons, whatever your petty little beliefs, you ran away."
He lowered his arm so that they were face-to-face, and Seras tried her very best to keep her composure before him. It may very well be her last time to do so.
"Did you think it was only my blood-bond to you that makes me your master?"
Seras's eyes widened at the question, looking at him with bewilderment and confusion. Of course that's what she thought; as her sire, she was bound to serve him until he chose to release her.
Or, she thought, until I found another way to break the blood-bond. Which, she had. The meager drops she had acquired from him at the Tower of London would have freed her then, but she had been bleeding so profoundly at the time the blood had never made it through her system. For a while, she had remained enslaved to him. And so she had sought another way.
"I gave you your unlife, Police girl. I am your sire, and that will never change. And being your sire," he paused, studying her closely before his mouth curved into a smile, "even now, I have more power over you than you know."
Seras squirmed violently, her arms rising up to clasp his wrists in a weak attempt to make him free her. Her intuition told her whatever he had in mind would not pan out well for her.
"For example-"
His hand shot out, a blur to Seras's eyes, and slashed open the collar of her shirt, revealing the side of her neck. She immediately realized what he was doing and swung out wildly, akin a cornered animal. She pushed against his chest, but it did nothing against his slow descent to her neck. No matter which way she pulled, his grip was firm. To say she was frightened would have been a huge understatement.
"-I can make you my fledgling again, merely by restoring my claim on you." He said, and his mouth slowly advanced upon her neck. She was acutely aware of the scar he had left before suddenly becoming sensitive, throbbing in heat and pain as he drew closer.
"Please." She whimpered, and suddenly she was the same Seras of a year ago, powerless and meek. She had idolized him, then, as her savior and protector; the No-Life King, Alucard, her master. But now he was as merciless with her as she had seen him be with countless other vampires, a malevolent monster in the place of her former mentor.
I brought this upon myself, Seras thought, letting her body surrender its struggle as his mouth widened, revealing his fangs. I should never have come here. I should have hidden myself away, rather than get involved in all this again.
His fangs positioned themselves just above her twin scars, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
"Now," he hissed, "have you any last words, before I make you mine?"
Seras opened one of her red eyes and, with great effort, regarded him as coldly and detached as was possible. His eyes flicked to hers, for a single moment, and narrowed at the sudden change in attitude.
"You could never make me yours, you sick bastard." She snarled, teeth clenched in both disgust and fury. Never, not once, had she shown such utter undisguised hatred to anyone before. It scared her a little; to know that she had such rage inside her, and at any other time this knowledge would have strengthened her resolve to fight against that which was inside her. But now it meant nothing, poised on the brink of the abyss she knew was beckoning. If anything, her hateful glare and venomous words actually seemed to please him. His eyes glinted with spiteful glee, and his lips curved into a cruel smirk before revealing row upon row of gleaming teeth.
Seras closed her eyes one last time as Alucard sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck, and she fell into the world of dark nightmares once again.
Reviews are welcomed, as always. Critique appreciated, but flames are not.