Grubby, sticky infant-hands with stubby sticky infant-fingers, somehow this weak creature had the power to drag the great Count Dracula up stairs and down stairs, into rooms and out of rooms - every which way the miniature Hellsing pleased to roam about the mansion, with the vampire in tow. As if the boy were dragging an old nursery blanket after him, beating against the stairs, wearing over the wood floors, snagging imperceptibly against the threads of rugs and carpets. And Master Van Hellsing permitted this. Gave the boy his blessing, to do as he liked with his vampire play-thing.
Something too high to reach? Why go for the nurse or a stool, when Alucard is the perfect size for retrieving any trinket or treat little Arthur might desire? Like a good "doggy," as the child wisely put it, on occasion, when he thought he was being quite playful and clever.
Giggle. "Doggy." Pat, pat. "Turn into a doggy. I wanna play with a doggy."
And the vampire became a dog.
Giggle. "Doggy!" Pat, pat. Little child dance. Giggle. "Now I wanna play with a birdy."
Of course when the boy asked Alucard to become a towering black lion, the nurse walked in and shrieked until the demon was ready to eat her. But no, she'd run off with the miniature Hellsing, dangling in her arms and his face blushing with laughter, all the way to Van Hellsing - who was able to mull over the case until some transgression was either detected or, more likely, fabricated.
Just to have it happen again.
"Lion! A big, a big- this big. A great big lion!" The little Hellsing attempted to broaden his modest arm-span. Oblivious of his failure to depict the enormity he envisioned. "As big as a horse- no! An ELEPHANT! I wanna ride an elephant-lion!"
What a horrendous chimera that had produced. Alucard was surprised the unfortunate nurse hadn't died of shock. She'd certainly attempted to retrieve little Arthur from the back of the crammed monstrosity that was breaking apart the nursery. But she had fainted and lay unconscious on the floor, at risk of being crushed. So the nosferatu had been permitted to terminate the game at this point, to little Arthur's dismay. And little Arthur complained to daddy, and daddy wasn't happy that his slave had caused so much destruction, having broken or cracked a considerable amount of little Arthur's furniture, as well as Arthur's non-living – yet not undead – playthings, and the floorboards. Gashes from claws. Long running fractures and concave depressions. No, daddy Hellsing hadn't been the least bit amused.
And so the once-Count was sitting on the lid of his coffin, with dread and annoyance that left a twitch in the left corner of his mouth, awaiting the pitter-patter of the miniature infant Hellsing roaming about the empty underworld that rested beneath the Hellsing manor. The arched corridors and cells, the labs – where "research" took place. Of course Arthur was not allowed to roam freely in such a dark and unpleasant abyss, but the child was fearless and not a little reckless and rebellious.
The boy couldn't manage to open the door on his own. After emitting complaints and little grunts of effort as he pushed at the door, attempted to yank it open, and finally kicked it out of frustration, little Arthur Hellsing commanded that the No-Life-King open the door for him. And of course, Alucard complied with the little demanding creature. Just as he did with the father.