It's just about 2:30am out here and I'm not so coherent right now. I don't own stuff so no good would come of suing me, we'd be wasting each other's time. I wrote this Kuroalma and I hope whoever reads this enjoys. Please R and R.
Battle of the Red Coats
Two red clad men stood a distance from the other, each with sleek silver handguns glimmering in the moonlight. Each with the other man trained in his sights. Both glared across the field, neither wavered. One man wore black leather boots, a vest of the same color with silver buckles that lined across his torso and a pair of black leather pants with a peculiar mix of red at its top and bottom. Each piece of his wares complimented his perfect physique. The rest of his appearance was enhanced with a leather trench coat of crimson that violently whipped around his body in the wind; the very same cold gust that played in his ivory hair, blew the snowy mess out of his steely blue eyes and making him seem all the more ethereal, yet menacing.
The other that stood tall across from him donned a similar deep red trench coat, made of a finer material and a flop tie of the same hue. Under that coat, he wore black dress suit, complete with black leather boots, a white dress shirt and a pristine pair of gloves, which bore the symbols of an alchemist. He was more reminiscent of a gentleman of a long bygone era. His hair, a black as the night sky, was made unruly by a secondary breeze. He took off his trademark yellow sunglasses, revealing a pair of gorgeous wine colored eyes. He began grin madly, showing off vampiric fangs. The white haired man returned the same manic smile.
The battle ground was illuminated by the moon. The platinum haired man was the first to speak up. "We meet again, Vampire king."
"Indeed we do, Half-demon."
Both men stood still like living statues, until something internally clicked, causing to move into combat simultaneously. They charged full speed ahead into a hail of bullets. Much like a highly choreographed dance, the two spun out of the way of the oncoming bullets with coat tails following them. They twirled like dervishes.
The vampire ran to his left, still spending rounds at the half-devil. Some did hit its mark, but still did not garner any response from the cocky man in leather. Any unholy creature would feel the pain of bullets melted down from a cathedral's cross. But this one wasn't about to let the raven-haired man know it. The half-devil returned fire, destroying some of the vampire's bullets in mid-flight. He did this until he backed himself towards cover. Once he was in his temporary safety zone, he ejected his spent clip and heard over the marginal distance, "You are getting slower, Dante." Dante inserted a new clip and retorted, "Says you, Alucard. You seem to be getting rusty yourself."
When he heard Alucard ejecting his clip, Dante cocked his gun, rolled from his hiding spot and opened fire on the vampire. He took on the bullets gladly with that crazed smirk. Alucard finished reloading his gun and the battle continued on with each man dashing like blurs in a spectacular ballet.
Again Dante found himself under fire. He used the body of his silver handgun, Ivory, to deflect the projectiles as his other hand reached to unholster, her twin and appropriately named, Ebony. Ebony was the opposite of Ivory in almost every way and at the same time, the other side of the coin. She was his ace in the hole. Ivory was Dante's 'balls-out' rapid fire offence while Ebony served as a more deliberate aiming defense. Together in the hands of their master and creator, they were nearly unstoppable.
Alucard saw the change in tactic and brought out his second 'friend'. In his gloved hands, he held his guns, a .454 Casull automatic in silver and Jackal in obsidian. Dante's customized Colt 1911s spat out ammo at speeds of an assault rifle with Alucard adopting a similar defense of shooting down the opposing missiles. Dante was secretly amazed at the beauty of Alucard's weapons. They shined brightly under the moon and they would take great strength to master. He could tell that the blowback alone would snap a human's wrists like a twig. They were like hand held cannons.
One bullet caught Dante in the right shoulder while another blew apart a portion of Alucard's jaw, exposing bone and sinew. The injuries healed. The dark haired vampire understood that using only his handguns against his foe was getting him nowhere. He holstered his guns. "Hey! What are you doing," Dante shouted taking this as an insult.
"You remember my policy, do you not, Dante? 'Anything I shoot never gets back up again'." Dante's eye's grew as wide as saucers when the mist around Alucard dissipated, revealing a long-barrel rifle that stood nearly as tall as he. "I borrowed Hallconnen from Police Girl," he said gracefully motioning to the cannon-like weapon at his side, "I hope she doesn't mind." Alucard proceeded to lift the rifle with one arm. Dante was sure that the thing must have weighed a ton and it was mean looking too. The thing made Kalina Ann seem like nothing more than a slingshot. It could probably take out a tank and Dante wouldn't put it past the Hellsing organization to design something with exploding rounds for the vicious vampire.
Alucard wasted no time in firing Hallconnen. Each of its shells ejected from the barrel permanently marring the landscape as the rounds explode on contact with its target. Dante nearly missed one as he reloaded Ivory. Shit, ran through the white haired man's mind, he's fucking crazy! Alucard was shaking him up, but he wasn't about to admit defeat. He kept firing Ebony as he gripped Ivory with his teeth. He continued firing with his left as he reloaded with his right. Alucard let out a sadistic laugh as another shell landed less than a foot from his opponent. Ever the masochist, Dante rushed in, guns blazing despite the close proximity to the shelling. Dirt, grass and gun smoke flew up making it hard to see.
Bullets dotted the torso of Alucard with one landing squarely in the forehead. The vampire fell backwards with that disturbing grin plastered on his face, one that would put the Joker to shame. At the same time Dante took direct hit to the chest with a cannon round.
Both lay in the field, motionless, bleeding from the ghastly wounds they suffered. Alucard reduced to almost nothing more than hamburger meat and Dante sprawled out, with ribs and internal organs utterly crushed. Silence hovered over the battlefield. Not a single cricket chirped. Finally, the unsettling quiet was broken by sadistic chuckling. Alucard still lay there, healing his wounds and laughing. "What fun," he exclaimed. Near him he heard choking and coughing. It was Dante clearing free, the blood caught in the back of his throat. Warm sanguine poured over his chin, catching in his chin stubbles. He then too, joined in the laugh. Both sat up and a stitch of pain hit Dante in the center of his chest. He was sure that it will leave a monstrous bruise later.
Alucard was the first on his feet, his clothes just as immaculate as the moment they met. Dante wanted to pout at the hole that was the size of a bowling ball in his vest. He extended a hand down to Dante. It was taken, and the half-demon was on his feet as well. The two had only wanted a challenge and they had surely received it.
Dante glanced down at his watch and said, "I'd better head back, or else the missus will be upset."
"Yes, and I do not want to get on Master Integra's bad side."
"I do have a question for you: how come your clothes never get messed up?"
"Oh, that... They are a part of my Cromwell Restrictions. I can turn you into a vampire and teach it to you—"
"N-no, thanks. Forget that I asked," Dante said quickly, nearly flailing his arms, "Goodnight, Alucard. Same time next week?"
"Yes, we shall do battle again, Demon."
"Oh, and one thing, Vampire, Leave Hallconnen at home next time."
"Agreed," the vampire said hefting the heavy launcher over one shoulder and cordially bowing before leaving, "Until we meet again."
With that, the two went their separate ways into the night.
My final word: I am well aware of the laws of physics and some things that happened here isn't exactly canonical... so can't a guy show a little poetic license? So did you like it? Hate it?