A/N: My gawd, how long has it been since I posted something? Bleh, never mind, I don't wanna think about it. Anyway, here's something I've been sitting on for a while. I'll add more chapters as I hammer them out. Please review, I need to know what I should improve.
Alucard was human once. It was a long time ago, but the memories clung desperately to the very fringes of his mind, every now and then clawing at his consciousness and reminding him of those bitter, dark days. However in spite of the lingering phantom of humanity, Alucard could never quite understand this thing his master referred to as "human sympathy-" nor could he remember ever understanding it.
Alucard was more than happy to be left to his own devices during the night and was reluctantly grateful towards his young master for that freedom. Young Arthur Hellsing had seen the things his father did to the creature and, for reasons unknown to the former count, took relative pity. Arthur gave the dog of the fledgling Hellsing organization a bed and ordered him to a corner of the mansion that he could call his own. Alucard was more than happy to once again have his heavy onyx coffin and the deepest, darkest crevice of the Hellsing dungeon to call his own. He remained cautious of his captor's son in the months following Abraham's death, though it quickly became apparent that Arthur has no interest in messy things like dissecting or experimentation. He was far too busy spending his father's money on alcohol and women. For a time, Alucard basked contentedly in the absence of attention.
But one day Arthur came home not with a woman, as was usually the case, but with someone much… smaller. Alucard could smell this new human's blood all the way from the basement. The vampire inhaled deeply, taking in every element of the scent and assessing it with greater finesse than most wine tasters could ever hope for. It wasn't tainted blood, as was the blood of all of Arthur's women who, if Alucard ever got thirsty, would become nothing more than shuffling ghouls. No, this was fresh, innocent blood. The faintness of it gave away the person's diminutive size, and it couldn't have been someone older than five or six. What could Arthur possibly be doing with a child? He'd had no wife that Alucard knew of. On nights when Arthur was in a drunken stupor, he would sometimes order the vampire to sit in the library with him, and he would tell Alucard every grisly detail of his intimate life. Alucard heard many colorful stories, but never heard a word on marriage. Out of curiosity, and because sleep was not finding him in the dungeon, Alucard drifted up through the floor, following the tantalizing scent. He absently considered that perhaps his master had been kind enough to offer him a snack, and the idea provided him with some acceleration up through the stone. As he silently broke the surface of the floor, he discovered that the source of the aroma was a young boy with raven black hair and large, azure eyes. The boy was scratching at his newly starched white button-down shirt with some annoyance when he looked up and saw the fearsome creature floating before him. His eyes widened and he ran to hide behind Arthur's legs, a panicked yelp escaping his tiny throat. From there he stared up, wide-eyed, at the huge creature before him. It had long, thick, wavy black hair and a heavy moustache that framed a sturdy-looking face and beady red eyes that glared down at him. It wore plate armor over most of its body and covered it all with a burgundy cape chained at the neck. Arthur glared at his servant and patted the boy on the head, which confused Alucard. Had this child not been intended for his own consumption?
"Alucard-" there was an edge of contempt in the Hellsing knight's voice- "I would like you to meet Walter- Walter Dornez." He attempted to push the boy out into the open, but the youngster clung resolutely to Arthur. Alucard's eyes darted from the boy to his master and back again, feral and confused.
"Walter, this is Alucard. He won't hurt you- that I can promise." Despite his assurance to the boy, he gave his servant a warning look. Alucard took the hint, his perverse mind immediately jumping to the worst of possibilities, were he to disobey: starvation in the dungeon for months on end, excruciating hours in the afternoon sun, perhaps even having his coffin taken away.
Walter looked up at Arthur, who gave a confident nod, and finally let go.
Hmph, cowardly. Alucard judged this little person without feeling; Child or not, it was still a human with countless flaws, and he was bound and determined to find them all.
The boy walked slowly towards the looming shadow of a man until he stopped, took a deep breath and stuck his hand out. "I- I'm pleased to meet you, sir!" he blurted, his eyes squeezed shut. He opened them only when he heard no response and looked up. The figure's body made an ethereal sigh as he bent low to grasp Walter's small hand in his own.
Such small, cold hands. It's a wonder most children don't die off sooner.
Alucard rose to his full height and needed only to gaze questioningly at his master before he got the reply he was looking for.
"Walter will be staying with us permanently," Arthur declared. He could make out his servant's shoulders drooping ever so slightly and couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "And no, I won't permit you to snack on him. I do, however, expect that you treat him as you treat me. You are still a creature of Hell and are below any human, no matter how young. Come, Walter." He briskly motioned for the boy, who was busy gazing at Alucard's tarnished arm plates. "Yes, sir!" he called out, and scurried away behind Arthur.
Alucard watched the two leave with a contempt that was already taking root deep within him. How dare this boy just come in and take his master away from him? Arthur was not the most caring of people, but he was better than his father, and Alucard felt possessive of that good fortune. He couldn't allow for some runt of a human to suddenly become a new favorite pet while he drifted away into obscurity.
Little Walter Dornez lay in the huge bed that had been provided for him, fearing for his very life as the shadows on the walls and ceiling took on personalities of their own in his imagination. Sleeping in such a huge mansion was going to take some getting used to, and it didn't help that now he knew there was a monster lurking about… a vampire, as Sir Arthur had called it. The boy could no longer tell what was actually moving and what wasn't. He wasn't even quite sure why he was here in the first place. Nothing was explained to him as the friendly blond man, who would later introduce himself as Sir Arthur, directed him to the shiny black car, or even as he got out of the car in a strange countryside, far from where he had been before. All he knew was that Sir Arthur was now in charge and that he had said something about Walter having much potential, whatever that was.
"Just be brave, Walter. You know how to do that," he whispered to the dark. It gave no reply, leaving Walter's words to hang in the black air, which frightened him even more. It was as if he hadn't spoken the words at all, and that they were really just floating above him like little invisible ghosts, waiting to jump out and scare him or eat him like a dragon might. But after a while the words dissolved into the shadows and left Walter feeling somewhat relieved and sleepy. His eyelids began to droop and his arms and legs felt heavy under the multitude of sheets and comforters and blankets. That was when the noises began.
It started out faint, as if it were far away, but Walter's keen little ears picked up on a whispering noise. He told himself that it was probably just one of the domestic servants, and he pictured the face of one particularly kind elderly maid he had met earlier that day. But the noise grew until it was as if there were a group of old men whispering strange things outside the bedroom door. Walter peeked up over the top of all the bedclothes to see that the light from under the closed door was not obstructed by the shadows of anyone's feet. A chill ran up his spine as he hid his entire head under the covers. Under there, the noise was muted somewhat, and he felt that perhaps he couldn't be seen by whatever was out there, and it would leave to find someone else to scare. He had his doubts on whether it would be gone for good if it couldn't find him, but he decided to ride out the storm under the warm blankets regardless. Suddenly the whispering jumped into the room and right next to his bed. Walter froze in terror, not even daring to breathe. There were a whole muddle of voices whose individual conversations were unidentifiable; some male and some female. Some sounded like children and other sounded like mothers and fathers and even grandparents. But amidst the swirling chaos he picked out one voice that just wasn't right. It sounded awful, like it wasn't even saying anything- just moaning in pain or loneliness, or perhaps it hadn't had anything to eat or drink in a long time. It grew until the other voices were hushed in comparison and Walter was trembling. His eyes were squeezed shut and he tried to imagine Sir Arthur's cheerful smile or the old maid's friendly little "hello." But every time he tried, all he could see was a grotesquely distorted image of Arthur or the maid and some lurid scene of gore and destruction behind them. Walter's eyes suddenly flew open and for a split second, he believed it had all been a nasty dream. The whispering was gone and the room lay peacefully quiet. Feeling much braver, Walter poked his head up from under the covers to look at the light streaming in from under the bedroom door. What was there before him at the foot of the bed caused the color to drain from his face. A little girl, not much older than he, stood staring at him with her petite mouth slightly open and almond eyes that glowed red and pierced right through him. She wore nothing over her flawless, paper-white skin, but strands of perfectly straight black hair kept her decent from the waist up, her lower half mostly hidden by the bed's footboard. Walter found himself paralyzed as she continued to stare blankly at him, her wheezy, uneven breathing the only sound in the room. Suddenly it seemed that her eyes locked directly onto him. A smile began to emerge on her white face, but it wasn't a smile like the one Sir Arthur had, or the one that the maid had. This one was vicious and reminded Walter of a rabid dog. The little girl had a single set of gruesomely pointed teeth that shone dully, as if her mouth was completely dry. The smile grew and grew until it very nearly consumed the lower half of her face and the skin stretched unnaturally. Her eyes were nearly the size and shape of ping pong balls underneath perfectly straight bangs. A hiss, quiet at first, escaped the hold of her pointed teeth and began to form words. Her lips quickly spelled out hushed words the boy had never heard in his life, all the while her smile fading but eyes remaining unchanged. Walter still couldn't move, but he became aware of his own erratic breathing that was well on its way to being hyperventilation. He clutched the blankets in both hands until his knuckles turned white. He could think of nothing but the girl in front of him as if she were a black hole and all his thoughts were being sucked away. Just then the girl stopped whispering and threw back her head so that her face was at a ninety-degree angle with her chest. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, and then let out a piercing scream. Her hair floated up around her and consumed her until she was gone. Her scream echoed in Walter's ears as he sat there, motionless. He felt nauseated and the sweat began to form on his brow. He leaned back quickly and accidentally hit his head on the wall behind him. The shock of the blow finally sent him over the edge, and he began sobbing hysterically. Was this a dream? Certainly Sir Arthur would have heard the girl and come running by now, had the whole thing been real. But, little Walter couldn't deny the existence of the tears on his face or the fear that he now felt aching in his head.