Any-whoodle, it seems as though the latest Hellsing trend runs along the line of "Alucard meets small child," so, in light of that, I've decided to take my own whack at it. And here it is.
--This Is the New Shit--
"Get me Anderson."
"Yes, Father Maxwell," the shaded priest left the room, gone to fetch the elusive Father.
The Goddamned freaks were back, the vampires, they had attacked a small city and turned every citizen into ghouls, even the children. God's innocent. They were the last remaining group of the chipped vampire freaks they had never gotten to. A group of five, he had heard. Just five lone freaks had killed an entire city of nearly four hundred. A knock on the door stopped Maxwell's musings.
"Come in, Anderson."
"Whut would ye 'ave me do, Father?" Over the last year, Anderson's rather extreme accent had decreased. Somewhat.
"The city of Duin was attacked last week by what must be just a few of the many chipped freaks that escaped that protestant Hellsing sow's grasp," Maxwell gave a self-righteous look to the Father.
"Our people are dead because of them. Every last one of them, dead. Ghoul children now roam the streets of Duin," again, he paused, giving a clear message to Anderson. "I want you to show those protestant upstarts a true lesson on how to cleanse God's land from the devil's creatures," Maxwell tossed a thin file to Anderson and turned his chair to face the wall, a clear signal their business was done.
Outskirts of the city of Duin
Anderson stopped at the hilltop, the red orange harvest moon hung high in the sky, and a gentle breeze blew in his face. The unmistakable scent of blood was carried along with it. A jerky movement to his left caught Anderson's attention. A flash of blessed steel and it was done. The ghoul was pinned to a tree by its head; arms still out in mid flail toward his general direction, and a low groan dying in the former female's throat. He watched as the ghoul crumbled into dust with single-celled remorse. The Father took off through the forest, running through every undead creature he happened to come upon.
Anderson persevered, the clearing into the town was just ahead, a long with forty-some-odd more ghouls. He dashed through, cutting through them in a flurry of blessed steel and papers with holy scribe scrawled upon them. He worked his way through the town, killing all the undead creatures in his way, leaving a large mess of blood, decomposition, and all-around gore in his wake; the thrill of the holy kill coursing through his immortal veins.
Yellow dawn was coming, he could feel it. How long had passed, he did not know. Hours it seemed, judging by the position of the moon. He had killed so many, and his adrenaline high was coming to an end, but he had killed three of the five freaks that had started it all, and more ghouls that he cared to count.
A small movement caught Anderson's eye. He turned toward the black alley, had he imagined it? No, there it was again. The wary priest approached back of the alley; the smell of trash and human urine was all too evident in the dank alley. Their, in the corner, was a small child, clearly in the fetal position. She was turned around, but too small to be older than ten, her ebony hair mangled and matted with dirt, filth, and blood. Was she a survivor in this Godforsaken place? Anderson stepped hard on a piece of glass, letting the audible crack ring instead of actually speaking. For a moment there was no reaction. Anderson sighed, moving to draw his blade. Suddenly, the small girl turned her head, her ebony hair falling onto her pale, but un-ghoulish face. She had large, worried-looking orange-tinted red eyes, like the harvest moon that hung overhead.
"H-hello?" Her voice was child-like and innocent. Anderson's guard dropped slightly as he moved his hand away from his weapon, extending it instead to the small child, just out of reach of her head. She starred at his hand for a moment with wide eyes, as though it was an alien from far, far away. Slowly, she tore her eyes from his large hand, moving up to meet his kind, but cautious, eyes with her own wide ones.
Anderson's knees nearly buckled upon seeing the child's eyes meet his own, such a trusting and innocent look.
Curse his love of young children.
Slowly, shakily, the small hand reached out, undoing her fetal position; only to sit again, this time with the insides of her legs touching the damp asphalt, splayed apart in an awkward "W" position.
The Father watched stock still, as the small hand reached out, grabbing his finger and clinging harder than he had expected, "Sir?" She moved again, this time onto her feet, before raising both arms in a silent question.
Uppy?
Anderson knew this had to be a horribly bad idea. This child was a vampire, her eyes, while an off shade, where still red. Was she one the five? For some reason, his instincts told him that no, she wasn't. She seemed too… young, innocent. For a vampire, anyway. Anderson picked her up, being careful to lean her against his clothed bicep.
And away from his vulnerable neck.
"Where are ye parents?" Anderson didn't really expect a good answer, but it was worth some sort of an attempt.
The young girl looked curiously at him again, like his head suddenly turned into a large pumpkin, "I don't have parents." She was an orphan. She should be at a good orphanage, being adopted by a good Christian family, and not in this Ghoul infested Hell-hole.
"Whaet's ye naeme?" She tilted her head to the side. Again, she looked at him strangely.
Did he have something on his face?
"… Name?" She mulled over it like it was some foreign word, nonnative to her brain, "I don't have a name, Sir…" She trailed off and starred into the distance as she snuggled further into his arms. Suddenly, she perked up, eyes bright once more "Why don't you name me?"
Oh Lord, is this some kind of test?
He was going to have to kill her, and she didn't even know what she was? Did she even remember being bitten? He wouldn't have been surprised if she had blocked it all out. Such a young mind shouldn't be able cope with all that horror. God could be a cruel being, for sure.
"Go tae sleep, childe, et's past ye bedtime," she complied with his order without question, resting her head on his broad shoulder.
Why did she have to be so cute and innocent? Anderson sighed and continued, her small noises of sleep the only audible sound in the barren city.
The orange moon hung low in the sky now, casting an eerie glow on the central part of the city, the once proud statue of Christ desecrated and demolished.
Bloody hooligans.
Carefully, so as to not wake the child, Anderson laid the child in front of the ruined statue, and silently prepared to do what he had to.
She would die an innocent, instead of living as a damned. Fair trade. Slowly, he drew his blessed blade, the cold steel leaving an eerie echo in the deserted town.
The Father sighed; it was his duty as God's left hand to dispose of all unholy creatures, no matter how much he wished he didn't have to.
"Forgive me, childe…" He watched her stir, a smile on her lips; Anderson drew his blade, letting it hover centimeters above her exposed neck. Her ebony hair splayed about her head like a crown.
Insane laughter stopped his holy blade. Only one undead beast was deranged enough to laugh at him.
"Child?" Alucard stood there with his back to the moon, as it casted an unnatural light on him; his hand held against his gut for support, "That child is nearly as old as I am!" He doubled over this time, laughing. Anderson tightened his grip on his weapon. That demon had deceived him. He could feel God's wrath coursing through his veins. Or was it his own wrath?
He turned back to the sleeping demon, only to find that she was no longer sleeping, but instead had, at some point during their conversation, gotten up.
A happy squeal of, "Master!" and she was gone, leaving a slightly bewildered priest in her dust.
Somehow, the immortal freak looked less intimidating with a cute, small child clinging tightly to his right leg. "Today, you die, Judas Priest," although, it didn't seem to diminish his evil nature.
"Not if aye kill ye first, beastie." Neither of the two men noticed the small girl detach herself from Alucard's leg until she was in-between the two of them, each too focused upon each other.
"No," she crossed her arms, an upset pout on her face. Alucard raised an eyebrow, hidden beneath his mask of a floppy hat and orange sunglasses that mirrored the child's eyes.
"What do you mean, "no?"" Alucard asked, confused.
"I like him," she pointed to the confused priest, who opened and then closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. "He's nice."
Nice? Alucard mouthed the word silently.
"Fine, I won't kill him now." The little undead girl smiled, pleased.
"Thank you, Master!" Anderson recovered quickly, what could have been a smug grin on his face.
"Now thaet leaves mey free ta kill ye, Monster." The child's grin dropped, replaced instead my confusion.
" Kill… Master…?" She tilted her head to the side again, giving him the same look. He wasn't an alien, he was sure of that. She smiled, seeming pleased with herself. Giggling, she continued, "Silly, you can't kill Master! He's…" she trailed off again, unsure how to describe the man that seemed to be her world. "Master!" She finished, beaming at the aforementioned undead being, who grinned manically.
"Well put."
She smiled, a proud look on her face. She turned to the father again, "So you can't kill Master, see?"
"Aye owe nae faevor to ye, Demon." She looked hurt, a confused expression on her otherwise childish face.
"Go find your sister, Little One," she whipped around, her hurt feelings gone, replaced by excitement. It was a good save on Alucard's part.
"I… have a sister?" Alucard nodded silently, amused at the pure ecstatic aura that vibrated off the small bundle of evil joy. She took off without so much as a wave, all but tearing up the brick road in her hurry.
The two men drew there respective weapons, ready to face off in a battle to the death.
"I suppose I'll tell her you went on a trip, far, far away," Alucard grinned "After I kill you."
Did I do Anderson and Maxwell right? I swear, I went over this thing a billion times, and I think I nearly killed my sister with questions of her opinion on this. And it still doesn't seem quite right to me. Comments on M&A character improvement would be put to good use (not to mention awesome).
By the way, all this religious spew isn't going to be in EVERY chapter, just the one's involving lotsa Vatican. But if you happen to like the religious banter and spew… well, yeah, its gunna be sprinkled around in this story here and there.
Aaaanny-way, what cha'all think? Interesting, overused, bad teen-fantasy gone horribly wrong (more so that usual)? Comments, questions, flames, random keyboard animals (like the bunny… or pie (I like pie…)), and whatever else you happen to think of are all accepted.