A/N: I've been on the fence about posting this for a while; but I've now got a general plot written out and a few chapters are complete, so I thought I'd post this first chapter and get your thoughts, o' lovely readers :)

I've taken inspiration from stories written by fanfiction authors maroongrad and death-in-the-orchard. If you havn't read their stuff GO AND DO IT NOW! :) This fic will still have its own 'original' plot, per se, but its genesis was inspired by the works of those authors.

Filth; the place stank of filth. Abraham Van Hellsing grimaced as he trod down the dank, cobbled steps of the dungeon that lay underneath the Hellsing mansion. He made a mental note to give the place a thorough clean when summer came. The final step was reached, he trod in a previously unnoticed puddle; Abraham cursed as the putrid, black water leaked into his left boot.

Yes, the place would need improving. Especially now he had reason to visit the dungeon on a daily basis.

He began to make his way down the hallway; his oil lantern cast an orangey glow on the dismal surroundings that greeted the Dutchman. There was moss here, there and everywhere. Abraham sighed, reprimanding himself for allowing the dungeons to remain in such an unhealthy state. He had reasoned before that he was too busy with his endeavours, the pursuit of the unholy denizens of the night, to bother with such trivial tasks; but now he confessed himself to blatant procrastination. Really, who in their right mind would want to clean a dungeon?

Abraham's personal musing would have to wait, though. He had come to a heavy door, blessed and lined with silver...

On the other side of the door, chained to the far wall of the cell, the creature stirred.

Dracula was broken. He was beaten, ruined by this man from lands foreign to him. The vampire had been pursued, tracked, weakened and eventually defeated. By the time the Dutchman came, the vampire's great kingdom and armies of over fifty thousand strong were long gone; he had reduced himself to a single castle and a handful of obsolete villages to manage. These too were now gone, his control over them wrested from his grasp, his brides dead, his subjects freed. Abraham had taken it all.

The cruel irony in the whole situation? Dracula welcomed it.

Once he was powerful, immeasurably so, but his power came at a price; with each life he took his powers grew, but they also became more difficult to control. Eventually Dracula sealed much of his own power away from himself, a vain attempt to stop the madness that slowly crept upon him. It had worked, to a point; he retained control of his mind and body, but his strength was now stifled, and he was vulnerable. For over a century he had lived in perpetual misery, unable to end his own existence, and unable to find another who could. His brides shared his madness, born from the same blood as his that carried the thoughts and screams of souls uncounted; in a way, he was glad to see them go most of all.

For so many years he had been waiting for a man like Abraham Van Hellsing, the man he was to now call 'Master'. He had fought war after bloody war waiting for him, a man who could best him. He was tired. Tired of the same repetitive existence, tired of aimlessly walking amongst the shadows, tired of watching those around him wither and perish into history; most of all, he was tired of the burden that a million consumed souls placed on his conscience.

But now he had found someone who could share that burden, and be strong enough not to go mad from it.

That being said, he did not go to Abraham willingly. No, he fought the entire way; only that way could the man prove himself worthy of defeating the monster. And Abraham had won, in the end. The monster was defeated, the vampire was broken. Now he was just a hollow, terrified beast that feared the very ground he trod upon. Dracula was dead, his wish fulfilled, and had been replaced with something else that yet had a name, or meaning.

Abraham opened the door to Dracula's...no-the vampire's cell. The sound of rattling chains immediately erupted into the air as the creature started, blinded and terrified by the light brought upon it by the lantern in Abraham's hand.

It had been weeks, nine to be exact, since the vampire was brought back to England, to the Hellsing estate. Abraham had since locked it in the dungeon cell. He had plainly informed the monster that he was no longer free, that Van Hellsing was his 'master', and that in time he would be wielded as a weapon against his own kind. To his surprise, the vampire seemed completely indifferent to its assigned fate. The problem came when he took away the vampire's coffin, for Abraham did not want it fully recovered until he had some way of controlling it.

The vampire had not taken it well. On the first night he nearly broke out of the restraints that bound him, and trying to escape from a dozen thick silver chains and shackles was no easy task. Eventually the vampire had literally collapsed from exhaustion, only to wake hours later and try again, and again, and again. Each time was traumatic, causing great damage to the creature as the silver burned deep gashes into its flesh.

This would not stand, and Abraham had the vampire strung up to the wall, stakes thrust through his arms, legs, and hands to ensure he was immobile. He had not wanted it to come to this. For all of their evil, vampires were beautiful creatures, and the pleading cries of the former Count Dracula were sure to haunt Abraham for years to come. He was a deeply Christian man, and his blatant abuse, his torture, of the creature was enough to make him void the contents of his stomach on more than one occasion. But it was necessary, by god, for the greater good it was necessary.

Taking a steady breath, Abraham walked the length of the cell to approach the bound vampire. With each step the creature grew more panicked, its great red eyes alight with fear, and it attempted yet again to escape its bonds. It was to no avail, the stakes creaked, and one splintered a little, but the vampire was stuck.

"Calm yourself!" Abraham commanded. The creature immediately stilled; a good sign, had been hoping for this. For three weeks now Abraham had not uttered a single word to the monster on his nightly visits, this was to ensure that when he finally did speak, it would come to greater effect.

A smile came across his lips as Abraham internally congratulated himself on his scheme's success. The smile did not last long, soon his face hardened, his mind now focused on the niggling question that he'd been waiting to ask since the vampire's imprisonment began.

"Vampire, what do you know of binding spells?"