Um, hello again, this is a story I feel like I'm really going to go places with, my others have been duds, but I think this one is the real deal. I think it's going to go places! I guess the usually disclaimer is in order, so I, officially and irrevocably say, I do not own Hellsing, any of its affiliates, nor do I intend to make money off of it. So...yeah. Anyway, all seriousness aside, enjoy!
Warnings for this chapter(before I forget!): None really, unless you're horribly against introspection or mild language.
Prologue
He had never been one to think. He was used to tactics, strategy, contemplation, and even calculations when the need arose, but to actually reflect was something Alucard loathed. The past was the past was it not? There was no use in wondering what could have been. In truth, Alucard was afraid, afraid of the shadows kicked up in light of reflection. Emotions, useless, baseless human emotions. Sorrow, regret, guilt, wistfulness. He was a servant of Hellsing, not a Hellsing, and these emotions were not for him. He protected, and on several occasions killed in order to do so, these hindrances had no place in his mind. Now, there was nothing to protect, and he felt an incorrigible swell in his chest at the thought. That was the trouble with thinking.
Despite the aggravation of thinking, there were other things Alucard had to face. The absence of Sera being the first and foremost. The little police officer was gone, he didn't miss her, longing was for humans, rather, he was bored and she was a useful remedy for such a situation. He could go to her, but she was off in Germany or some such, killing for the sake of that damned mercenary, and he wasn't desperate. He didn't blame the man for taking his "toy", blaming a dead man was ridiculous even for a vampire, even if it was the man's own fault for dying, stupid bastard. So, boredom and thoughts, and a certain uselessness plagued Alucard all the more in his restless(useless) thoughts.
Begrudgingly, and only to himself, did Alucard admit eventually that he, in a way, was afraid of these thoughts of his. They weren't grotesque, well, perhaps they were, but Alucard wasn't a little girl, he could handle that. They were unconquerable, they couldn't be bludgeoned, devoured, scared away, they were immovable and immortal. Just as immortal as he, and so, forever haunting. Fear, damn it to hell, was another emotion for simpering humans, not for Alucard.
Sometime after sitting in the dark, in his coffin, Alucard concluded thinking was exclusively for the humans, and he wasn't human. A fact he was always eager to remind his enemies of. But now, there were no enemies. He had fallen, a time he could remember vividly, and the ground he had fallen on was a deal to protect, slaughter, and strike fear into the enemy for the sake of his masters, the Hellsings. That was what his eternity was for. Now, Hitler and his henchmen were gone(except perhaps for Schrodinger, who had never really been there to begin with)and there was no one to protect. There was, of course, an heir, but these were peaceful times and he had no ground to stand upon. All he had was a hazy gray area punctuated with flowing, unstoppable thoughts.
Decades passed in such a fashion, until Alucard, never one to give up easily, was forced to admit defeat to the void, and for a few years he drifted in the same hazy sea, thoughts more prominent, reflections more clear, until, 402 years later his summons, his saving grace, finally came in the soft baying of a Hellsing heir, newly born, and destined for trouble and greatness.
No notes for this chapter, it's just a prologue after all :)