a/n: So I saw Priest the other day, and was quite taken with the premise of it. Not to mention the way Black Hat made me think of Alucard(mostly the duster and hat). In contrast to what others have said, I actually liked the way the story was more open ended and less 'this is what happened and why', if only because as a writer it gives me far more creative lisence to make up my own explainations for, well, everything. And it makes it a hell of a lot easier to create a crossover fic.
note: This takes place after the conclusion of the movie, assuming the head honchos of The Church, however reluctanly and only to themselves, admit they may have a bit of a vampire problem on their hands. As far as Hellsingverse goes, well, judging by the city ruins in the movie, I placed it about 5 centuries later. And for those of you that don't remember who Monsignor Orelas is off hand(I had to google it tbh) he's the main head of the church dude who Priest busted in on in the end of the movie.
disclaimer: I own nothing. OR DO I? (no really, nothing own I)
Chapter one: Unearthing a Trump Card
Summary: The Church unearths their oldest asset from days long gone in order to gain the upper hand.
"Awaken, Child of Darkness…"
The darkness shifted, taking form in a shapeless, endless entity. It danced, smothering the senses even as it celebrated the consciousness of its master.
"Awaken, Demon, your Masters demand it of you…"
Hunger, white hot and virulent, roared through his veins like the unquenchable fires of Hell. The darkness crowded inwards, until it existed all around yet within a singular point. Eyelids, papery thin, slowly losing their fight to hold onto the comforting shadows of displacement.
"Awaken, No Life King, that is an order!"
Ancient eyelids snapped open, milky blue irises slowly bleeding crimson as sight was returned. Gangly, skeletal frame jerked as an arm lifted, taloned hand rising to grasp the edge of the coffin.
Monsignor Orelas swept a disdainful gaze over the grotesque man before him and his fellows. The blood they had offered for the creature's rebirth was winding its way into the ancient coffin still, bleeding color into the bleached hair and eyes. Before his eyes the frame filled in enough to allow the beast movement, but leaving much to be desired.
Slowly, the man sat up, eyes on his knees as he scraped his palms gently against his resting place. There was no acknowledgment to the gathered men as a single breath was released from unused lungs.
It was unnerving to him, to see a corpse so long gone yet so oddly well preserved reviving in such a manner. The scent of earth from a long lost land wafted to him, drowning for the moment the coppery tang of blood, kerosene and flame.
"Look at me, Heathen Beast, acknowledge your Master."
Dull black hair shifted as the man's head turned toward him, revealing a blank, hollow face. The half lidded eyes stood out starkly against the framework of the face.
"Master?" Raw, raspy, yet somehow still mocking. A deep chuckle rattled the man's ribcage; sending chills racing down the spines of all present, including Orelas's. "You do not bear the blood of a Hellsing…"
Orelas frowned at the airy statement. "You have been asleep long, monster. The Hellsings are no more. Centuries ago their organization was bought out and integrated, their duties passed down, honed, and ultimately perfected. And with them, their…assets. By the contracts and sanctions of my ancestors, you are mine."
The chuckle had begun anew, rising until it erupted from the man's lips, parting them to release something that was neither true laughter nor true derision. As the Monsignor silently fumed the noise subsided, allowing the vampire to speak.
"'Contracts', 'sanctions', ancestors…People who have no blood relation to you, that happened to be in your position years before…I do not know the intricacies of your human meddling, but I hope for your sake you speak the truth. If not, well…Perhaps you'll make a passable meal, my master."
His underlings made to move forward as one, but he stopped them with a flick of his wrist, striding purposefully to the side of the coffin. Grabbing a fistful of lank hair, he yanked the man's head back, forcing the vampire to look up at him.
"You would do well to keep your mocking to yourself, abomination of God. The contracts on your binding are absolute, written by the church and sealed by the blood of your Hellsing master! You will do as I command you, or find yourself once again entombed."
"Well then, shall we test your absolute power over me?"
In a flash the eyes snapped open, burning with the fires of Hell as the room was plunged into darkness. Orelas caught a split second look at the monstrous fangs housed in the vampire's maw before there was nothing but the eyes. His heart halted, his strength leaving, sending him staggering backwards as the eyes rose, fixed unblinkingly on his own. His heart beat once, painfully, and in that small time frame the orbs grew to consume the whole of his vision, cold breath skating across his throat.
"Where is your God and your Oaths now, Dog Priest?"
His lungs collapsed, forcing his last breath out as a final word formed on his lips. "Stop!"
In an instant the chill on his skin was gone, embers smothered. Torches formally snuffed flared slowly back to life, causing him to blink away the nothingness.
On the floor between him and the coffin the vampire was crouched, hissing like an animal and clutching at his heart.
He glanced at his men, but didn't motion for them to back off. Warily, he approached the once great king, taking in every little detail of the shivering frame. "Did your test have the results you desired, vampire?" He paused, waiting for a response that didn't come. "Do you recognize my power over you, slave? Answer me! Answer your Master!"
The twitching of nerve endings calmed, the inhuman vocalizations fading. Oh so slowly the vampire turned his face to the Monsignor, eyes again half lidded but far from unfocused.
"Yes, master. I acknowledge the weak power you hold over me."
"Weak?"
The vampire chuckled. "Yes, weak. Had you been a Hellsing, I would never have been able to even rise to attack you, let alone get within striking range. Especially not in such a condition." His limbs loosened, and slowly he stood to face Orelas. "But it is power none the less." Crimson eyes flicked side to side, for the first time acknowledging the other men. "So tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company? What foolish whim have I been awakened for, master?"
Orelas bit back a scowl at the jab, straitening his posture in an attempt to look down at the vampire. "You have been awoken for the same purpose you served nearly half a millennium ago: to hunt down and kill the vampire menace."
With a scoff the vampire mimicked the monsignor's pose. "Oh? Five hundred years and you still haven't thought to fight fire with something other than more fire?" A dark chuckle sent the brilliant eyes sparking. "I would have thought your kind would grow weary of inadvertently sparking a house fire into a city wide burning."
"Do not misunderstand my tactics, demon. I chose to awaken you for the sole purpose of keeping The Church on even footing with its enemies."
"The Church? Oh goody, don't tell me my masters handed me off to the Vatican. Did you win me in a hand of poker, perhaps?"
"Enough cretin. Now, you will follow me quietly out of this dank tomb and you will do as I command you without question. Do I make myself clear?"
"Transparently."
"Good. Now come, monster, we have much to do."
Orelas turned promptly on his heel, robes billowing around him as he headed for the winding stairs that would lead them back to the surface.
"Master, if I may, allow me to offer the bit of information that seems to be, much to your displeasure, eluding you."
The monsignor paused, glancing disdainfully over his shoulder at his new found servant. "Oh? And what is that?"
"My name." The vampire's face was filled with barely concealed mischief.
Orelas swiftly turned back to face the staircase, pausing a moment before continuing towards it, furious that the vampire had been listening in to his thoughts.
"Give it or not, I do not care. Perhaps I'll simply refer to you as 'vampire.'"
"Ah, but then how will you differentiate me from the others of my kind?"
"You are the only of your kind. The only other was a man who is now dead."
"You need my power to defeat a dead man?"
"Hardly."
"I do not understand. You say I am the last of my kind, yet you claim to need me to exterminate the 'vampire menace'-"
"Which is why I fear I have much catching up to assist you with…?"
"Alucard." The vampire filled in with a cheeky grin, lost to the shadows of the narrow staircase.
Monsignor Orelas repeated the name under his breath. It didn't ring any bells, as far as names from history were concerned, but then much of the knowledge of the past had been lost long before he was born. With a glance at the inhuman man at his side, he drew in a lungful of air in preparation for the debriefing he knew he'd end up giving.
"Long ago, the world came to an end…"
That's all for now folks. I'm still working on commiting to memory most of the movie's storyline, and figuring out how i can filet it, stretch it out, and wave it about as an improved version of itself. Wow, the creepy images that popped into my head as I wrote that. Suffice to say, it involved people skin...
and on that note...
Till next time, tatty-bye!
deadpan_riot