Hi there, children. Before the show starts, I would like to make a rather important (and long) Author's Note on a few things often encountered and heavily indigenous to fanfiction; not just in Hellsing, but franchises and fandoms everywhere. I speak, of course, of the creatures known as Mary-Sues. If you do not know what Sues are, or simply have never heard of them, then gather 'round, kids. This information could potentially spare hurt feelings. Or cause hurt feelings. Either one is cool with me.

Now, let's get one thing straight. Even though I am a rather experienced writer, I haven't been into writing FF for very long, so it wasn't until recently that I fully ascertained the definition of Mary-Sue/Marty-Sue/Harry Stu/Cherry Glue etc. etc. I had also realized that I have unwittingly encountered many, many, many breeds of this animal in the past. They are creatures of habit, always attacking or humping (oftentimes both) the specific characters they masturbate to while listening to shitty music like Evanescence or Linkin Park. They barf sunshine and fart sparkles and, for some reason, they know everything about the object of their twisted obsession. Just as strange, said object and everyone else around her just fucking adores her. In every instance, the stalker has a mysterious past and traumatically murdered parents (oh noes!) and many can also kill an army of zombies blindfolded. In a miniskirt. With cat ears. What they just don't understand is that in creating a fantasy reality where they actually matter, they have created a vacuum of disgust and hatred from innocent readers. Just try to remember to hate the Sue, not the Suethor, unless if she's a complete bitch. Then you can hate the Suethor.

Know that there is a very broad spectrum of sues, and that last paragraph loosely covers the concept. I will go into different types as the story progresses, so lets move on to self-inserts. While I generally like the idea, and have been tempted to write serious SI stories in the past, I realized that a sizable portion of fic authors have completely fucked it all up. I won't go into very great detail though, as the majority of self-inserted characters fall under the Sue category. If it isn't totally obvious already, a lot of Sues are, in fact, not so subtle self-inserts despite whether or not the suethor is willing to admit it. I'm not naming any names or characters here, (Except for Roraku the Demon-Slut) so don't get all butthurt over spilled fucking milk. I'm doing this so hopefully some of you will be able to avoid painful writing cliches in the future. One thing that I have learned in my writing career is that constructive criticism is a pleasure spiked with pain. If you ever want to get better, expect to get a little hurt.

The point is, reality is a harsh bullet to bite, and I think it's about time for me to jump in and take these bitches to an all-you-can-eat buffet. Like Golden Corral. God, I love that place.

Also, I wanna throw up some props to MetropolisKid and Azure Zangetsu for some kick ass writing. If you haven't heard of them, you haven't read some of the best of the best Hellsing fiction. I would also recommend Blacksand1, but as things currently stand, she put my balls in a pair of vice-grips for whatever fucking reason. If you're reading this Sandy, just what the fuck did I do, anyway?

Sigh. I don't get fangirls. Or PMS. Enjoy the show. -BtR

Somewhere near Amsterdam, 4:20 AM

Small, peaceful, quiet, uneventful. These are the words that would have been used to describe the tranquil town of Bongwater, N. Holland; a neutral town of friendly origins discreetly nuzzled somewhere in the Netherlands. Of course, this is what would have been used to describe it. As of 12 hours prior, the once happy settlement had become a hellish deathtrap from which no one had escaped. The population had all but been slaughtered and drained like livestock and converted into shuffling, rotted corpses. Several vampires ran rampant throughout the streets, cackling madly and taking potshots at some of the mindless shufflers for fun. One of the innumerable ghouls slowly turned his head towards the direction of the belligerent laughter erupting from the group of young bloodsuckers that had converted him into the putrid state he is in now barely three hours ago, only to have the top half of his cranium blown clean off by a hollow point at a good 50 yards. The mostly-decapitated corpse just slumped to the ground.

"KABOOM, BITCH! Hahaha! Oh my God, that shit was epic! Please tell me you saw that shot!" The young vamp in the tan Carhartt jacket holding the smoking handgun addressed his taller, less amused looking friend.

"Yes, I saw it. I also happened to notice the last twenty Goddamn 'epic shots' you've made. We are here for a reason, Spade. Quit jacking around." The shorter vampire looked back at the obvious leader of the group, clad in a blue sweatshirt, as if he were retarded.

"Reason? Are you shitting me? Take a look around you, Garret! Our reason is to steal booze and smokes from a bunch of stoner fucks! Pull that stick out of your ass and have a little fun!" Spade loaded another clip into his Glock 36 with a manic grin.

"The reason we are here..." He paused for emphasis. "...Is to feed. You know the others get too antsy to even shoot straight when they haven't had any blood to drink or cigarettes to smoke."

"Amen to that." As if on cue, he stuck a cig in his mouth and lit it, seemingly ignoring everything Garret just said, much to his annoyance. He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"No more alcohol for the rest of the night. We can't afford having you fuck everything up just because you used to be a frat boy." The two continued to walk down the main road completely surrounded by the ghouls they had created.

"Oh come on! You know I'm a better shot when I'm drunk! Remember that badass headshot I made when-"

"You're a better shot when you're tipsy." He cut off. "There's a difference. When you're drunk, you piss everywhere and make way too much noise."

"Fine. But I still think you should at least try to be less of a buzzkill. I mean, if the others were as high-strung as you, we would have, like, no morale! No venom! That's what makes us unique, we live to raid and we raid to live!" Garret let a rare smile creep out.

"Hm. True. But if we were any less organized, our group would fall into anarchy. That is why it is sometimes necessary for someone to play the 'buzzkill.'" He noticed that, for once, Spade seemed to be digesting something he said.

"...Speaking of which, where exactly are the others?" He crossed his arms and tried to use his senses to pinpoint his allies' locations, but found it quite difficult with the air so thick with the stench of decay and blood.

"Uhhhhhh... I think Jeff is down by the movie store... Nel said something about the jewelry store a few streets down, the twins are probably fuckin' around near the bakery, and I have absolutely no clue where the hell Kayo is." Spade scratched the side of his face trying to remember the confusing tangle of a conversation he and his comrades held prior to the mission.

"It's a small town. I'm sure we can round everyone up within the next hour or so. Let's head down to the-" He stopped dead in his tracks and sniffed the air a few times.

"What? Someone fart?" Garret ignored his idiotic comment.

"...Someone's still alive."

"What?"

"A human. I can smell it." Spades face instantly lit up.

"Hell yes! Lets go kill that biyatch!"

"That's the thing. I can smell 'em, but I don't know where he is." They both paused for a second.

"...Alright! Hide and seek! This is gonna be fun..." Garret let out a long pained sigh, adjusting his sunglasses as he did so. Spade stalked around with his gun at the ready, sniffing the air as his beady yellow eyes darted back and forth.

South of Bongwater, forest outskirts

A pair of shimmering crimson dots cut through the murky darkness that enveloped the forest. Slowly but surely, the shadows surrounding the forlorn lights twisted and contracted, forming an ominous human shape. He grinned as he looked down upon the small town in the distance; small enough to be obscure, but big enough to make a significant impact if it were overrun. The tall Victorian Nosferatu looked down upon the pitifully defeated town as if judging its fate. He was snapped out of his observation when a static crackling emitted from a small transceiver hidden discreetly in his ear.

-krtzzzt- "Alucard, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, master."

"Good, looks like the field testing for the new transmitter equipment was a success. What is your status?"

"I'm about half a klick south of the town, yet to have engaged any hostiles. By the looks of the place, the targets have already had their little 'fun' with the local populace..." He trailed off, making it seem as though he was continuing his report, when he really wanted to slip in a question.

"By the way... you never did tell me why you allowed me to travel so far outside of Britain. What's the occasion?" The words rolled off of his tongue as he smiled coyly, a habit he had gotten quite used to in her company.

"With the current outbreak of supernatural riots in the area, local military forces are stretched thin as it is. The regional government has offered to pay rather generously for our assistance, and frankly, we need the money."

"Does this mean that when I finish this mission, I can finally have that Hi-Def flatscreen I've been wanting for my coffin?"

"...We'll talk about it when you get back." she deadpanned, obviously tired of the nightwalker's antics. Before she could continue, he chimed in again.

"Are you sure you're comfortable with me being so far from the Kingdom? If anyone attacks the mansion, I won't be around to be your knight in shining armor." He said his last sentence playfully, but his master decided against a verbal lashing since his statement showed genuine concern for her safety.

"I'll live. Besides, Walter and the police girl have been keeping a constant eye out for anything suspicious since you left. If you ask me, I think they kind of miss you."

"I feel so loved." His smirk then turned into a wide grin. "...Do you miss me?"

"Enough fooling around, servant. What can you tell me about the status of the town itself?" Alucard could hear the distinct lighting of a cigar over the transmitter following her question.

"Completely overrun. I'm sensing well over a hundred, maybe two hundred ghouls and several low-level vampires scattered throughout. My guess is another bunch of teenage jackasses that think it's fun to murder innocent people."

"I see. I take it I don't have to ask about survivors?" She said with a certain grimness to her tone. After such a long time of service in her line of work, she learned the hard way that chances of finding survivors in these kinds of conditions were slim to none, at best. As he opened his mouth to reply, her mention of the subject had snapped his third eye onto a single target. His face changed from slightly amused to slightly confused... and amused. His pause warranted slight concern from his master as a few seconds passed.

"...Alucard, are you there?" He took one last second to make sure his senses weren't fooling around with him. They had a habit of doing that when he was giddy with the prospect of bloodshed.

"Scratch what I said about the population... It looks like one of the humans managed to survive. Just one."

"You're certain? Just one survivor?" To him, she almost sounded like she didn't believe him.

"Confirmed. I can feel it plain as day now, though I'm not sure how much longer that's going to last for. I think the targets may be aware of his presence."

"A single outbreak survivor... The only other instance like that on record is the Cheddar incident involving Victoria." She paused as she assessed the situation. Even though dealing with mass murder was just another part of her job, the thought that she could save at least one innocent life in an otherwise hopeless situation lifted her spirits.

"Hmmm... A firsthand report from a neutral third party could be extremely beneficial for the record of this mission..."

"Hm? What's this now?" Alucard said in an amused tone.

"What? What is it?"

"It looks like our little friend's cover just got blown." He began marching forward, coffin slung over his shoulder as he felt two conflicting life forces spike violently. The scuffle had lasted all but ten seconds before the vampire's aura spasmed, dimmed, and was subsequently snuffed out like a candle. Alucard couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Gahahahahaha! Oh, this one's got some fight in him!"

"What just happened?"

"I just lost one more pincushion to sink my fangs into, that's what happened... Though this recent turn of events did confirm my suspicions that this group of so-called vampires are barely even worthy of washing my blessed bullets with their putrid blood."

"Alright then, that settles it. You have new orders, Alucard: In addition to the clean sweep, I want you to get that survivor out of there alive and have them prepped for evac come noon; not only could their testimony prove invaluable for our case report, they could potentially have access to other information regarding the attackers, or possibly other supernatural activities in the area."

"And just why would you assume that?"

"If the dodgy git managed to put down one of the vampires that had a hand in the town's destruction, I am forced to assume he or she has at least basic knowledge of vampires and their weaknesses. Regardless, your orders are to keep that human alive to the best of your abilities while cleansing the town of any and all undead."

"Master, you know no human being is going to be able to keep up with me. How do I know this new priority of ours isn't just going to slow me down and get in the way?"

"Alucard, every second you spend prattling on about nonsense is just one more nail in that poor bastard's coffin. You have your orders, and now you will follow them. Do I make myself clear?"

"...Crystal."

"Very good. I will contact you again once the chopper is preparing for takeoff. Over and out." He let the silence sit briefly before he resumed his march with a scoff.

"Ballbuster..." he shifted his coffin onto his other shoulder as he cracked his neck.

"...You forgot to press the cut-communications button, you bloody moron." The No-Life King immediately halted his march.

"And if your performance is anything less than stellar on this mission, I'll personally show you just how much of a 'ballbuster' I can be with the silver ashtray on my desk." Alucard sighed sharply as he rubbed his eyes underneath his opaque shades.

"Master, how do I turn this fucking thing off?"

And there you are. Let me know if you like it or not, I'm open to all forms of criticism, or at least I don't whine like a bitch when someone has something negative to say about my work. Needless to say, this is just the setup so expect plenty more sue-satire, gore, drugs, nudity and other such things you crazy kids like in the next chapters. Just remember: if you take any of this story too seriously, you are retarded.

As MetropolisKid would say, have a good day and God bless. (That shit's kinda contagious)