Bah. Hello, everyone. I took this section of the poem below and though (unfortunately) of the scene where kiddie!Alucard was molestered by that scary arab guy. I don't think I am doin' it write.
"What what? in my butt?"-- Alucard after meeting the Ottomans...
OMG that was bad. Hellsing isn't mine.
"…O daughters of Jerusalem,
the king has brought me into his chamber.
I am black and I am beautiful.
I've been opened and undressed.
I have no arms or legs. I'm all one skin like a fish.
I'm no more a woman
than Christ was a man."
-Anne Sexton, Consorting with Angels
"God, oh God, I never asked for your forgiveness…"
The vampire slammed a fist on the desk and Integra started a bit. An exploration turned sour. She had been rifling through her father's desk. The room was stale already, even only a short time after his death. Dust gathered in strange places and Integra sneezed often. She would then wait for the sound of the butler coming down the hall or stairs to retrieve her. Before the vampire came into the room, unannounced as usual, she had found her father's journal. It was brown and the corners were curling up like dark, ugly stained smiles. The last entry was there, at the top of the page. It didn't go any further to list anything about Integra or Richard…nothing about Alucard on that last page. Only those words.
Then, his fist slammed the desk and shook its contents. Integra dropped the journal. She jumped at this display. He smirked at her. Integra wanted to tear her hair out. She went to pick the book up but found it missing. She looked up.
He held it. Alucard's red eyes read the sentence over and over again. He did not stray from the words. He was making a face. Something angry.
"Foolishness…God does not forgive," he shut the book and tossed it across the room. It slammed into the wall and thudded. Integra clenched her fists. The vampire smirked triumphantly. She glared at him darkly. Her lips curled up and something was said, no spat, at the vampire.
His skin crawled. Interesting. The way her lips curled up to reveal her teeth. The way she spoke, through almost tears and a shaking voice. His skin crawled again.
Now it was obvious who she reminded him of. Yes, it was obvious now how that scowl affected him so negatively.
That Ottoman.
That moment in time. That childhood had been his, now, nothing. The Ottoman made his skin crawl. The snarl of a twelve year old girl made him think of that terrible thing.
That disaster.
Was it him who had first said those words? Arthur would have no idea of course that he thought that same thing as he was taken, whole and innocent, a child, into the mouth of a monster. He did consider it innocence then. He was only a child.
A child clutching to such an imaginary thing as God to save him from this fate.
He had never asked for forgiveness, when really he had done nothing wrong. Even he knew that.
Integra stomped her little foot and he turned lazily to look at her.
"I said get that book off the floor, Slave!" she ordered for what was the third time to him. He hadn't been listening, to busy thinking of when he was raped. He considered sharing with her.
He though better of it. He retrieved the book and set it neatly on the dusty desk. He bowed and looked at Integra. He watched her face for a trace of that mad man. That crazed affront to GOD himself. Integra would never know of how he was stripped and pressed.
Knuckles white as he gripped the crucifix that he had been given. By whom? That he no longer remembered. Mother maybe… perhaps his brother. They had both been given to the Ottomans. He smiled at his master and continued to bow. He didn't want to ever see her scowl like that again. Like that man. He smirked at her.
Disgusting.