The Religious life
Chapter 1: Live and Let die
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, Anderson, or any other of the creator's
ideas. I don't own, so don't sue. Even if you did sue, I don't have
anything for you to take, so live and let live, won't you ^_^;
Alexander Anderson, at the tender age of thirteen awakened and sat up in his bed, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the window. His modest Irish abode was a cozy one, where he lived with his adoring mother, and a father who was often away at work. Sniffing the air, he smelled the special breakfast his mother reserved for Saturday mornings steaming away downstairs. It was starting out to be a great day.
Alex hurdled down the stairs after getting dressed. Sliding into a seat at the breakfast table, he kicked his legs impatiently for breakfast to be served, but his mother was toying with him deliberately. "You know Alex, patience is a virtue." "Yeah, I know Mom, but I have stuff planned with the guys today, so I wanna hurry up." "Alright Alex. You know the drill though. Your father will be home at seven, and there's church tomorrow morning at ten, so don't stay out too late, you hear?" Alex nodded impatiently, and then dug into the food put in front of him. Moments later, he was gone with only a quick goodbye thrown over his shoulder. Mrs. Anderson shook her head Patience is a virtue.
When Alex finally ran outside, the sun was forcing shadows to withdraw into nothingness. He frowned, he must've overslept, and how he only had fifteen minutes to run a thirty-minute course. If he were late, they might end up leaving him behind. He began running as fast as he could, following the usual route. Suddenly, he thought of another way. If he cut through that abandoned construction site, he'd cut half the time. Switching plans, he leapt over the wooden guardrail and began to weave his way through the unfinished buildings.
He was making good time until he came to a flat wall blocking his path. Alex let out a forced sigh of aggravation; he definitely didn't have time to backtrack to the last split. It had already been ten minutes, he'd have to improvise. He looked around and found a way to climb up to a vacant second story. Running through the blank floor, he'd avoid all the other ground obstacles. Smiling to himself for being so creative, he broke into a dash, hoping to make up for lost time spent on the climb. I'm going to make it, go me Alex thought to himself. Moments later, the floor gave out under him, and he fell down into unconsciousness.
Alex awoke with a start. At first he thought he had been blinded as the fall came rushing back into memory. He grimaced at the thought, and noticed he could still see shadows move. It was night. "That was one hell of a fall." Alex said to himself, talking aloud to keep from panicking. He felt his way along the wall until he came to an opening where distant lights illuminated the ground enough for him to take stock of where he was. He heard various noises, most were the usual sounds of the night, but Alex thought he heard a low growl, so he picked up his pace towards the town lights. Making the sign of the Cross to himself, a behavior he rarely engaged in actively, he thanked God for making this tripped up experience quick and painless. Or, so he thought.
"What was that?" A low voice asked menacingly. Alex spun around, accidentally slamming his back into a wall. "Who's there?" Alex responded shakily, frightened despite his best efforts to hide it. A figure moved out of the shadows. He was a skinny guy, in a jogging suit, and a hand gun dangling from his hand. However, as Alex noticed, there were two things not right with him. First, his skin was white, too white, as if he was no longer capable of absorbing sunlight. The second, and even freakier, was his eyes; his blood red eyes. Alex let out a shriek. "Come on boy," the red-eyed man replied, "answer me, why did you do that?" "D-do what?" Alex again had to force himself not to implode with fear. "That sign. You blessed yourself. I take offence to that. A nice Catholic boy shouldn't be wandering around my hunting grounds at this hour, especially defiling it with such stupid behaviors." "I-I'm sorry, it was.it was just a reflex." "A reflex, huh? You know what else is a reflex? Me pointing this gun at your head," The man leveled the gun's barrel at Alex's head, "and pulling the trigger." Shivering wildly, Alex pulled himself into a ball and whispered to himself "God help me." BANG
End Chapter 1. To be continued.
Alexander Anderson, at the tender age of thirteen awakened and sat up in his bed, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the window. His modest Irish abode was a cozy one, where he lived with his adoring mother, and a father who was often away at work. Sniffing the air, he smelled the special breakfast his mother reserved for Saturday mornings steaming away downstairs. It was starting out to be a great day.
Alex hurdled down the stairs after getting dressed. Sliding into a seat at the breakfast table, he kicked his legs impatiently for breakfast to be served, but his mother was toying with him deliberately. "You know Alex, patience is a virtue." "Yeah, I know Mom, but I have stuff planned with the guys today, so I wanna hurry up." "Alright Alex. You know the drill though. Your father will be home at seven, and there's church tomorrow morning at ten, so don't stay out too late, you hear?" Alex nodded impatiently, and then dug into the food put in front of him. Moments later, he was gone with only a quick goodbye thrown over his shoulder. Mrs. Anderson shook her head Patience is a virtue.
When Alex finally ran outside, the sun was forcing shadows to withdraw into nothingness. He frowned, he must've overslept, and how he only had fifteen minutes to run a thirty-minute course. If he were late, they might end up leaving him behind. He began running as fast as he could, following the usual route. Suddenly, he thought of another way. If he cut through that abandoned construction site, he'd cut half the time. Switching plans, he leapt over the wooden guardrail and began to weave his way through the unfinished buildings.
He was making good time until he came to a flat wall blocking his path. Alex let out a forced sigh of aggravation; he definitely didn't have time to backtrack to the last split. It had already been ten minutes, he'd have to improvise. He looked around and found a way to climb up to a vacant second story. Running through the blank floor, he'd avoid all the other ground obstacles. Smiling to himself for being so creative, he broke into a dash, hoping to make up for lost time spent on the climb. I'm going to make it, go me Alex thought to himself. Moments later, the floor gave out under him, and he fell down into unconsciousness.
Alex awoke with a start. At first he thought he had been blinded as the fall came rushing back into memory. He grimaced at the thought, and noticed he could still see shadows move. It was night. "That was one hell of a fall." Alex said to himself, talking aloud to keep from panicking. He felt his way along the wall until he came to an opening where distant lights illuminated the ground enough for him to take stock of where he was. He heard various noises, most were the usual sounds of the night, but Alex thought he heard a low growl, so he picked up his pace towards the town lights. Making the sign of the Cross to himself, a behavior he rarely engaged in actively, he thanked God for making this tripped up experience quick and painless. Or, so he thought.
"What was that?" A low voice asked menacingly. Alex spun around, accidentally slamming his back into a wall. "Who's there?" Alex responded shakily, frightened despite his best efforts to hide it. A figure moved out of the shadows. He was a skinny guy, in a jogging suit, and a hand gun dangling from his hand. However, as Alex noticed, there were two things not right with him. First, his skin was white, too white, as if he was no longer capable of absorbing sunlight. The second, and even freakier, was his eyes; his blood red eyes. Alex let out a shriek. "Come on boy," the red-eyed man replied, "answer me, why did you do that?" "D-do what?" Alex again had to force himself not to implode with fear. "That sign. You blessed yourself. I take offence to that. A nice Catholic boy shouldn't be wandering around my hunting grounds at this hour, especially defiling it with such stupid behaviors." "I-I'm sorry, it was.it was just a reflex." "A reflex, huh? You know what else is a reflex? Me pointing this gun at your head," The man leveled the gun's barrel at Alex's head, "and pulling the trigger." Shivering wildly, Alex pulled himself into a ball and whispered to himself "God help me." BANG
End Chapter 1. To be continued.