Silver Needles
It was just like before.
That helplessness, that feeling of being in way over her head and yet not caring. Seras swallowed the bile working its way into her throat and tried forcing her lungs to take breath they didn't need. She felt tears pooling in her eyes before spilling over her corpse-cold cheeks. She hated this suffocating feeling of being trapped in her own head, recalling things she didn't want to remember. The blood on the floorboards and the broken picture frames. The bodies…a shudder wracked the young woman's small frame like a seizure. Another gasp of air, the exhale leaving her like a bitter wind, and Seras closed her eyes, wringing more tears. Hurriedly, she brushed her forearm across her face, but when she drew it away, her skin was smeared with blood.
Seras yelped in alarm and shot to her feet, running quickly to the mirror in the washroom. In her reflection, she saw a distraught girl with a crimson mask across across her eyes and cheeks. As she watched, her eyes filled again, only it wasn't the familiar saltwater tears she saw through her blurred vision but blood. She was crying blood. Without thinking, Seras slammed her fist into the mirror's cool surface, glass splintering. Dammit! She hissed, clenching her fangs until they hurt. God, how she hated this feeling. Damn those vile brothers! Damn Alucard! And damn Hellsing for putting her through this!
Another breath, another shudder, and Seras dipped her head to scrub her face and hands clean, the water faucets at full blast in the silence.
She didn't hear the gentle knocking at the door to her room, nor did she hear it open or the footsteps of someone entering. It wasn't until after she shut off the water and was drying herself with a handtowel that she heard the sound of a heart beating outside. Who was that?
Tap, tap, tap. Seras flinched. "Miss Victoria? Are you in there?"
At the sound of another's voice, she cast a glance around the washroom, clenching her fingers around the porcelain rim of the sink. Right. This was neither her childhood home, nor was it the orphanage in Bristol, and today's events…. Seras forced her lifeless lungs to take in one last breath, even deeper than before, drawing it in through her nose (and with it the damp of the mansion's cellar,) and releasing it like ice through her mouth. Today's events, however awful, were at the very least over.
"Are you all right?" Walter's voice came again, tinged with concern.
"Yes," she croaked and pushed the washroom door open.
The Hellsing family's butler was standing just outside, smiling his usual smile, as though they had not just slaughtered an entire platoon of ghouls, many of whom had been their former comrades. "Good evening, miss."
Seras nodded to him, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Good evening, Walter, sir. How are you?"
"Oh, quite well, miss, all things considered," the old man answered, almost cheerfully, as he made his way to the table in the center of her room. Curiously, Seras noted he was carrying a tea tray, which, even curiouser, seemed to have a freshly brewed pot of tea. "I figured you were still trying to collect yourself after what happened today, so I brought something to help you calm your nerves."
Tea? But she wasn't able to drink tea anymore. Seras frowned suspiciously at the fine china and steaming pot, wondering if her master had recruited Walter in some sort of cruel prank. Nonetheless, she found herself walking forward, sniffing the air as she approached. "Is it…okay?"
Rather than answer, the old man set the tray on the table and poured the amber liquid into a teacup for her. "Throughout my years serving the Hellsing family and the Organization, I've discovered a lot about vampires. One thing I've learned is that, despite their strict dietary limitations, vampires are actually quite capable of drinking fluids, such as water, tea, or coffee and even some types of alcohol. I suppose it's easier for your body to process." He held out the cup for her to take. "Even Alucard indulges in a cuppa now and then when the taste of blood becomes too tedious."
Seras smiled wryly as she accepted the tea, the heated china warming her ice-cold hands. "Hard to believe Master would ever find the taste of blood tedious."
Walter nodded indulgently. "Well, he is over five hundred years old. It's only natural even he deviates from the norm now and then. Then again, red wine would be his usual beverage of choice."
"Five hundred years old?" Seras repeated, barely keeping the shock from her voice. God, she couldn't even begin to imagine living that long. Just the thought of it…surviving everything she'd ever known, living to see how far humanity would rise and fall. Master Alucard had…she did a quick calculation in her head, then murmured in disbelief, "He was born before the Cousins War in the mid-1400s, wasn't he?"
Walter's smile widened a little. "And became a vampire before it's end in 1485."
Seras gave a weak laugh and something of a mischievous smile crossed her face. "Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York. And all the clouds that loured upon our house in the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths."
"Shakespeare's Richard III."
The young woman hid her smug smile by sniffing at the steaming tea in her hands. She trusted Walter's word, but after weeks of attempting to stomach a palate that simply couldn't sustain her current state had made her more than a little wary. Ever since she had become a vampire, nothing had ever tasted the same. Fruits were sour, vegetables bitter, meat gamy or altogether rotten, and bread was like chewing ashes. Master laughed at her attempts to eat like a human. Integra would curl her lip in disdain, but Seras couldn't help it. The change to her life had been so sudden, and she…
Walter cleared his throat, politely but pointedly. "You're thinking too much."
Slowly, Seras seated herself at the table and lifted the cup to her lips, sparing one more glance for the old butler before taking a small sip. A mild but warm flavor slid over her tongue and she almost sighed in relief. It was good. In need of a little sugar perhaps, but it was warm and wonderful and for the first time since she'd become a vampire, she felt heat in her core. Almost like a human and not the living corpse she'd become. Seras took a longer sip, running the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip and smiling up at Walter. "It's good. It's really good. Thank you."
"I thought you might like it." Walter said. "Silver needles seems to be a favorite for vampires. I'm given to understand Mrs. Wilhelmina Harker remained quite fond of it during her vampire years. In fact, she's the one who discovered the Undead could ingest liquid beverages. Vampire or not, I suppose nothing keeps an Englishwoman from drinking her tea when she pleases."
Seras paused in the middle of her third sip and stared up at him. "But…isn't Mina Harker just a character in a story?"
Walter's smile faded, and he looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. Seras stared back at him, unblinking. Wilhelmina Harker was just a character from a book, nothing more…right? They stared at each other in silence for a long while before the old man shook his head. "No. No, Mrs. Harker was once a living woman, and an undead vampire. Dracula is more than just a story."
Dismay filled Seras' mind as a flood of questions got caught in her mouth. If Mina Harker was real, then was Jonathan Harker real? Professor van Helsing? Dracula himself? If it was all true, then where had the novel come from? And what of the author, Bram Stoker? Instead, the only question she was able to ask was, "Didn't Mina return to her human self once Dracula was destroyed?"
The old man was deathly quiet, probably realizing he'd said too much and was berating himself for getting carried away with his stories. "Um…well…"
"You don't have to tell me if it's a big Hellsing secret," Seras murmured, reflecting the name 'Hellsing' itself and the connotations it shared with the character.
"No, it's not that." Walter paused. "It's just I came down here in hopes of cheering you up, and it seems I've gone and forgotten how much you haven't learned yet."
"Oh, no, don't worry about that." Seras smiled. "I'd rather hear it from you, actually. Master would probably leave me with more questions than answers and Sir Integra…" She trailed off, unsure of herself. Up until today, when the leader of the Organization risked her life by rushing in to calm her from her blood rage, Seras had considered the elder woman either irritated by her existence, or all altogether disgusted. I could have killed her today. If I hadn't come back to my senses when I, she would be dead like all the others…
Walter nodded empathetically, as if he could tell what she was thinking. "Very well. How well do you know the Stoker novel?"
In spite of herself, Seras suppressed a laugh. "It was my dad's favorite book. He used to read it to me when I was a girl."
"As well as Shakespeare's finest it appears." He smirked. "No Peter Rabbit or Wind in the Willows for you?"
"No, I got those, too." This time, she did laugh, and it surprised her how good it felt to laugh again. "And the Sherlock Holmes' mysteries. Watership Down was my favorite."
Walter chuckled, then continued gently, "Then you know how Mrs. Harker became a Nosferatu."
That scene used to give her the worst kind of nightmares, so bad her mum had once tried forbidding her father from reading her that story. Seras nodded.
"A vampire will only return to his or her human state if their master is well and truly destroyed. A wooden or silver stake through the heart, a mouth full of garlic, the head severed, the body burned, and the ashes scattered at the crossroads or buried in a mirror-lined box beneath a riverbed. With all these requisites in hand, Professor van Hellsing—that is, Sir Integra's great-grandfather—destroyed the vampire Dracula in 1897, and Mrs. Harker was believed to have regained her human self."
"But there's a 'but' coming."
"The poor dear drank his blood," Walter explained gravely. "A vampire's blood is his soul, and with a piece of his soul, however small, within Mina Harker's veins, Dracula lived on. And while a vampire's master lives, even if it's a mere sliver of life, he or she can never return to who they once were."
Seras' face fell as the gravity of that revelation sank in. The whole point of Dracula was about overcoming evil, defying the odds, and squaring off with an all-powerful monster. That story, and many others, had carried her through the more trying moments in her childhood. When the director of the Bristol Home for Children had sneered at her dream of following in her father's footsteps, she read The Hobbit. When her peers threw rocks at her and called her creepy, she read Alice in Wonderland. When she'd woken up in the hospital and realized her parents' deaths were not a horrible nightmare, she read her father's favorite novel.
And now, she learned the struggles of the Harkers and their friends were all for naught. They never escaped the evil that pursued them? It was so cruel, never mind they were not just characters but real people who'd lived a century ago. Real monsters.
I wonder what kind of vampire she was. Seras thought. The novel portrayed Mina Harker as fearful of becoming Undead, but she was also brave enough to face it, throwing in her all with her comrades to prevent her tragic fate. Did she accept this existence when she found she never escaped it. "Did you ever meet her, Walter?" Seras asked, fingering the cup in her hands. "I assume she's…well, you know. Did you meet her before she died?"
A faraway look entered the Hellsing butler's eyes, and Seras wondered if she'd made him remember something he didn't want to. The old man had been so kind to her since she'd arrived at the mansion, barring the occasional teasing. "I…do miss her sometimes," he admitted. "In the short time I knew Madame Mina, she was wild. Headstrong. Fearless. No mercy. She fought for Hellsing, and all the creatures of the night feared her. You see, while Alucard enjoys toying with his prey, Mina had no such inclinations. During the War, she would lay entire enemy camps to waste in a single evening, and no one would ever hear a scream." He paused then, as though choosing his next words carefully, then added, "I…saw her in you today."
Seras froze, already remembering the sensation of rotting ghoul bodies ripping apart in her hands, their putrid blood spraying the walls and carpet, fleshy organs dropping onto the floor and ground to red paste underfoot. Slowly, she lowered her eyes and took a sip of the now lukewarm tea. "Walter, sir…may I confide something in you?"
"Of course, miss."
She bit her lip, her fangs drawing stagnant blood that pooled against her tongue and mixed horribly with the tea. "When…when I attacked our own men today…the ghoul versions of them…" She shifted again at the particular memory of a skull shattering in her hand, bits of brain and fluid spraying her. "That was me," she choked. "That was all me. Integra might think it was a blood rage or whatever she called it, but I was entirely aware of what I was doing, and yet I didn't stop."
Walter said nothing.
"It's simple, really. When you get right to it, it was kill or be killed." That lesson she'd learned far too young. "Even Alucard told me he was proud, with that horrible grin of his. But those were my comrades, sir! I didn't want—"
She cut herself off as she felt Walter's hand grip her shoulder, unflinching at her cold skin, and give comforting squeeze. A little like the way she imagined grandfathers did. "Do not blame yourself so harshly, Seras. If you say you were aware, then surely you realized our men were ghouls. There would've have been no way to save them. It was a mercy killing." The hand on her shoulder tightened. "I was there, Seras. I saw what they were going to do. And…I know your history. You were defending yourself."
Seras shivered, gripping the tea cup, and took a deep breath to keep her old trauma in check. "You know about that, huh?"
"Sir Integra did ask me to look into your background when you first arrived. Mostly just to se if you had any next of kin in need of a cover story on why their daughter or sister or what have you went missing. We couldn't very well tell them the truth, could we?"
"I see."
"But there's no one?" Walter inquired gently.
Seras shook her head. There hadn't been anyone in a long time. No family aside from her parents, and they were gone. Her friends in D-11 had died with her that night in Cheddar, and she wasn't good at making lasting friendships outside of work. At least there was no one to miss her after she was gone. Seras sighed. "No one."
"I'm sorry to hear that. It's a terrible thing to be that young and all alone."
Something in the old man's voice gave Seras pause, but before she could ask, he continued suddenly, "If I may, I did once ask Mrs. Harker if it was hard for her to become a vampire."
"You did?"
He nodded. "By the time we'd met, her husband had been dead for close to three decades. Her good friend and savior, Abraham van Hellsing had passed away as well, and of the original circle who'd formed Hellsing with her, only one remained, though age had all but obliterated her from his memory entirely. Not only that, but the world in which she'd been born had changed so dramatically in the last sixty or so years, she barely recognized it anymore."
"And was it hard for her?"
"Yes," Walter said without hesitating. "There was always a sadness behind her eyes whenever she smiled, as if we all reminded her of a life long gone. She used to say, 'I wish I could look upon the sun one last time and not feel the pain of its light burning my face.'"
Seras gripped the cup in her hands. Me, too. I miss the sun too, no matter how many times Master tells me I have to hate it now. Was this to be her life? Watching the world go by, herself unchanging, while everything she knew progressed and left her behind.
"But she did tell me this," Walter continued. "'It does get easier when you accept there's no turning back.'"
As he fell silent, the young vampire sat back in her chair, tilting her head back until she was gazing at the ceiling. No turning back, huh? It was true. She was never going to be a human again. Mina Harker had realized that, and she'd taken what she'd become, and made it hers. She'd possessed it. Controlled it. She used it to make herself strong, and damn anything that stood in her way. For the first time, Seras found herself almost smiling at her situation. Or at the very least, a weight lifting from her shoulders.
Walter smiled down at her. "Well, I do apologize for leaving so soon, Miss Victoria, but with so many of our staff members gone in one strike, I do need to begin searching for reinforcements."
Seras nodded in understanding. "Do you have any ideas?"
"Yes." The old man's smile became rather sly. "When Alucard and I fought in the War, we were accompanied by a mercenary regiment commanded by a man called Renard Bernadotte. If my sources have been correct all these years, his grandson has taken up the family business and has proven quite effective in his trade. So…I suppose I'll see if he's unoccupied and bored with the usual targets. Before I go, is there anything I can get you?"
Seras almost shook her head, only to pause, then murmured, "In the library upstairs…you wouldn't happen to have some of Shakespeare's finest, would you?"
"We do, actually." Walter nodded. "Sir Integra's grandfather, Sir George Hellsing was quite fond of Elizabethan literature in general. Is there a specific play you'd like to read or would you like me to grab several for your perusal? We have the collection in its entirety within our possession."
"How about…Macbeth," Seras answered after some careful thought. "Just Macbeth to start, please."
"Very good, miss."
"Oh, and Walter?" she added.
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For coming to talk to me. It means a lot."
The old butler nodded. "Of course, miss. Any time. You try and get some rest now."
"Yes, sir."
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Author's Notes: Not much to say about this one. The timeline regarding Mina Harker may be a little bugged. Please disregard that, I wasn't shooting for accuracy here.
I do not own Hellsing.
