Stray, a Hellsing drabble
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing. (Or Dracula, for that matter.) But you should already know that.
In the beginning, it was merely the taste of her blood.
It was the most intoxicating drink I had ever tasted, as a man or a monster. A few spattered drops awakened me from a twenty year sleep. The promise of more of that drink had me licking the ground like the dogs I so often compare my enemies to. It was the first blood I had tasted in two decades. I was ravenous. I wanted to devour her. The seals that bound me to the family depend on my wielder's strength of will, after all. She was only twelve. Surely this little slip of a girl, though a descendant of my most hated enemy, could not hold me back. I would devour her, and then the children of the night would sing once again of my victories, and of my glorious return to freedom. The streets of England would run with blood.
She surprised me. And even now, years later, her Hellsing blood has a hold over me.
The streets of this country run with blood indeed, but not with the blood of her people. Instead, this country drinks the blood of the unworthy undead.
Still, that girl lives and thrives. The blood of the man that vanquished me continues to mock me. That man... He led his comrades into the depths of my domain. There, he took away my land, my people, my wives, and my most coveted Mina. But worst of all, after taking away everything I claimed as mine, he stole my freedom. He enslaved me. That man and he and his descendants spent years quite literally carving me into an ultimate weapon which could be used against the enemies of his country, his family, his blood. Yes, hers is the blood that destroyed so many of the old beings that once menaced humanity.
But while it is the blood of that accursed Hunter, it is also her blood. It is exotic, invigorating; it drives me to the edge of madness and back again.
When I first looked upon her she was merely twelve, just beginning to come into her own. (Though when I was mortal man, girls her age were often married and perhaps with children of their own. Then again, no woman would have been so delightfully willful in those days.) Although I had knowledge of her father's death, I did not expect a child such as her to awaken me, even accidentally. I expected no awakening at all. I had thought I would be locked away for an eternity, just as Arthur had sworn. Another accursed man. Hellsing. She was my liberator, but at the same time, she made me a prisoner all over again.
She was a disenchanted child-princess searching for a knight to save her. The monster in the basement became her knight. But I did so only after seeing her steel resolve for the first time, after she knew exactly what she was faced with. That night, I willingly swore myself to her service, though she did not realize it. (She thinks I serve unwillingly, even now.) I also resolved to make her mine, in every sense of the word. I would mold her into a suitable partner. My countess. The last Hellsing. It will be perfect. The perfect revenge on that man.
That night, I oversaw her first kill.