Disclaimer: I own nothing: I am a poor student.
You cannot defeat me
"I know."
As everything she had known ceased to be, withering away into itself, she opened her arms and accepted the truth.
The night was darker than most, filled with inhuman moans and the hovering stench of blood and death. The priest stood, the pale skin that seemed to barely stretch across the gaunt bones of his face was bathed in blood, a young woman lay off to his side, neck torn and placed at an impossible angle.
He grinned, dagger like teeth gleaming ruby, "You cannot possibly win," gesturing to the hordes of undead that stood behind him.
The red-clad man in front of him smiled insanely, and opened fire.
Alucard lowered "Joshua", plumes of smoke still rising slowly from its barrel and turned when he felt his master's approach.
"Alucard, I thought I told you to finish it." Adjusting her glasses, Integra deftly lit the small cigar hanging from her mouth, silently watching as the feral grin exposed the barely contained blood lust of her subordinate.
He turned his attention back to the pathetic mimic that stood a few meters away, looking much less confident without his mindless ghouls to control, "With pleasure," Alucard's lips raised even further, revealing more of his sharp white teeth, "as always." His gloved hand, still gripping the handle of his gun, slowly centered on the vampire-priests' head.
"Wait, stop!" terrified eyes locked on Integra, "Please! You wouldn't shoot a man of the cloth," nervously grinning, he outstretched his long, angular hands, "would you?" the last words seemed to tremble as he fell on his knees.
Integra's face contorted into disgust, "Kill him." She turned to leave, as she heard Alucard's dark chuckle, when she heard movement from the pile of ghouls to her left.
"Alucard."
Drawing his attention, he cocked his head at her as he pulled the trigger, not needing to see to know that the priest's head was now missing, and that his body dissolved into a pile of desolate ash, gradually blowing away in the breeze.
She motioned to the mound of bloody, mutilated bodies of what used to be unchaste civilians, laying sprawled atop one another, having fallen to the guns of her men, and her guardian.
Again, there was movement.
Smirking, Alucard strolled over to the bodies, and, hearing that it came from below the lifeless form of a middle aged woman missing her bottom half, he kicked it aside. "Getting more resilient, are we?"
Expecting a sudden attack from a mindless corpse, his finger paused on the trigger when he saw that the noise was coming from the form of what looked to be a young man missing his head. Curious, now seeing that it lay still, and knowing a ghoul could not survive without its head, he crouched beside it, hearing the faint sound of tearing from what seemed to be the stomach.
"What could this be?" Integra, having drawn her own pistol, now stood beside him, watching intently as the stomach moved.
Having no answer, he placed his hand in front of Integra and lightly pushed her backward when something tore through the corpse's skin. Raising an eyebrow as a small, blood covered digit emerged, he also took a step back, "Well this is new."
"A new freak somehow evolved?" she muttered, brows furrowed and teeth clenched tightly over her cigar.
Another finger, and another, then a full, small hand ripped through the stomach, covered in pieces of inward flesh, stained pure red. The arm emerged, and was soon joined by its partner.
The cigar dropped to the ground, unnoticed by either one, as these arms groped and stretched, and tore through skin and bloody, rotten innards, finally feeling ground. Fingers bent at awkward angles, the hands dug into the soil, tearing nails as they seemed to pull, gradually revealing a small, dark head stained in clogs of life-blood. The sound was horrible, a sucking, squishing sound that held testament that this thing was indeed wreaking havoc upon the already mutilated body of the boy.
The head surfaced, revealing a mouth wide open and sucking in air, gurgling through tissue and liquid.
While Alucard was watching in morbid fascination, his gun resting at his side, Integral's pistol remained trained on the demonic figure, hand shaking slightly, mind racing at the implications this could mean to Hellsing. Whatever it was, it needed to be studied carefully.
"Do not shoot it," she said softly, "I want to know what it is."
He showed no sign of recognition, but was indeed excited that something new, perhaps something challenging, was evolving.
It was small, like a child. It had no breasts that they could see, and as it gave a final, silent pull, the torso of the corpse split in two with a resounding sshhllrrkk and the thing seemed to slide out over the remainder of the intestines and stomach, laying motionless on the ground.
Alucard stepped forward to roll it over when it gave a sudden jerk, and painstakingly rose onto its knees, slipping on the blood soaked grass.
Integra's hand slipped to her radio, "Fargason, get over here with some kind of restraints." She had tried to say it softly -- eyes never leaving the small form a few feet in front of her -- but it was quiet that night, and she suddenly found herself looking into a pair of dull, pale blue eyes. It was such a contrast to the dripping body suit of crimson and black that she had to bite back a gasp.
"It's female." Alucard's voice was unchanged, but he no longer wore his grin, rather, he looked slightly put out. "I sense no power at all."
It continued to stare at Integra, then cocked its head to the side and seemed to consider Alucard, completely silent and emotionless.
Taking this opportunity of distraction to examine it – from a distance – her brows furrowed as her hand rose to grasp her chin in thought, "It doesn't seem to have any freak tendencies or characteristics so far," she turned, he seemed to be locked in a staring contest with the thing, all signs of his usual sarcastic, violent self gone, "for one, it isn't attacking you."
"I've noticed."
"Sir!" Commander Fargason rounded the corner of trees, his men trailing behind, carrying a large, steel box they had used for transporting dangerous ammunition.
Scared the noise would startle it, she motioned for silence, but was surprised when the only thing it did was break eye contact with Alucard and examine the new comers tamely.
She watched them, these people that eyed her with disgust and acute suspicion, almost feeling their desire to kill her. Let them. I'll only return. She could feel the ground beneath her, the sodden grass littered with gore, she could feel it beneath her torn fingernails, in between her toes, but strangely, she did not care.
She had not known what to expect after accepting the pit of hell into her being, succumbing to the undeniable truth that it was the only way. Why was she not appalled that she had been born into this world through a corpse? That she had awoken into smothering warmth and stench, and had to claw her way through it?
Because she had seen worse. Those moments when she welcomed the darkness into the confines of her body, seemed an eternity. She experienced pain, murder, rape…all the evils that can be grasped by the imagination, but not only through the eyes of the victim, but through the inflictor.
In those moments, she had died.
Everything that she had known, loved, worked for, gone.
No more light, no more dark. There was nothing left.
Serena Tsukino was dead.
This is a little experiment of mine, so I look forward to your opinions, good and bad.