In the bustling streets of London, no one really had time to spare. Adults hurried by at a breakneck pace, dragging along whining children as they distractedly planned the next item on their agenda. No one had time to notice the dirty, itty-bitty child that wandered alone in the hurried crowds.
She looked barely old enough to walk, and didn't say a word to anyone as she plodded along at her own pace, occasionally stopping to stare into the spellbinding window displays of toy shops. Her hair was a matted tangle of sunshine that fell into her face and hid her strange eyes, which were a strange orange-red color. She was wearing what appeared to be the top to a woman's military uniform, roped off at the waist with a black belt. It hung loosely on her and made her look more frail and waif-like then she would have been otherwise.
The child rubbed her nose absently as she turned from the display of dollies and tin soldiers to look at the tall Metro map that sat in a lighted, square-shaped plastic holder. She cocked her head, resembling a lost puppy as she carefully traced the red line that marked the route the train took before nodding to herself and continuing her aimless path.
The girl didn't mind the cold as she walked. It was much better than the humid, stuffy air of the sunlit hours, and it reminded her of her Sire's chambers in the bottom of their house. She stopped as the thought reminded her of her mission: she was supposed to be finding her way home! She sniffed and looked around at the tall buildings, trying to remember if any of them looked familiar to her.
In the back of her mind, something was warning her that she was slipping away more and more with each passing second; that she knew how to read and talk and she was supposed to be finding her way to the manor before the spell took full effect. She scratched her head and looked over to see another tall, annoyingly bright sign. It had the letters M-E-T-R-O. That spelled…hmm, what did that spell? The girl smiled and traced the red stripe that was the color of food. Yum, food. Her tummy made an angry noise and she hurried down the streets with renewed vigor. She had to hurry and find out where her Sire was. He'd give her hot, delicious food.
Running around the corner, the girl's sensitive eyes were overwhelmed by the flashing lights of the city. She backed off into a dark alleyway. The dim light was more than enough for her to see by as she moved around boxes and rubbish bins. Her nose picked up lots of different smells, none of them the scrumptious iron odor that spoke of a hot meal. She passed a man and woman doing something strange in the corner, ignoring them as she slipped through a crack into an adjoining alley. A man was sleeping on a box and the girl walked over and sniffed his neck hesitantly. Her nose wrinkled and she backed away; the man's blood smelt funny and he was clearly almost dead. Dead blood wasn't good blood.
Hearing something strange and muffled coming from a building, the girl craned her head up to stare at the occasional flashing lights coming from the upstairs windows. One of the windows shattered and the girl ducked into the doorway out of the way as glass shattered down. The smell of fresh blood and something dusty permeated the air and the girl sniffed appreciatively. If her Sire was nowhere to be found, she'd simply have to find a snack herself. She pushed open the door, which was ajar, and made her way inside the empty building. Looking inside at the big machines, the girl was reminded of stories of monsters that she'd been told at the orphanage. For a moment, the child tried to remember what an orphanage was. She shrugged and began her search for the stairs, the errant thought already forgotten.
She'd gotten lost and wound up in the basement instead of upstairs. By the time she'd cried, brushed herself off, and retried the sounds from above her had ceased. She peeked back above at the big-machine-room to smell candles, aftershave, and something that smelled utterly repugnant but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Big boots passed by her head and she ducked down as the source of the smell walked out the door. The clomping noises were lost among the sounds of the city and the girl finally deemed it safe to come out.
She followed the odor trail left behind by Big-boots and found the stairs that led up instead of down. She rubbed her bum and made a face as she filed away the newfound knowledge that stairs could hurt when you tripped and fell down them. She made it halfway up the stairs when a new, yummy scent washed over her. She stopped, tilting her head up and closing her eyes as she broke apart the different aromas that made the fragrance. Gunpowder, ink, flowery-something-or-other, spice, and shoe-polish. She opened her eyes again and smiled; now crawling up the stairs as fast as she could. She peered around the archway to see long, blonde hair and a crisp uniform kicking at a pile of ash.
Almost dancing in glee, she ran with her arms out to crash into the sweet smelling blood-bag. She was about to sink her fangs into the pants-clad leg when something caught her back and she was swung into the air to come face to face with a new enemy. The man was looking sternly at her and wore a broken set of glasses, with only one lens covering his face. She heard something in the air and looked around to see thin wires going around the room. She twisted around in an effort to watch them dance and crowed happily, clapping her hands. The new enemy must be a magician! She turned back and looked at him again. Now that she thought about it, she knew her enemy. He was a friend of her Sire, wasn't he? Well, if he was a friend than she couldn't eat him.
"Miss Victoria?" her captor said, sounding surprised. The girl looked at him blankly before something flashed in her mind. Oh, my name is Victoria! Is he talking to me? She smiled at him friendlily and kicked her feet in the air, trying to show that she wanted down. He looked over to the lady blood-bag, who was staring in shock before her face twisted angrily and she stomped a foot in the pile of ash.
"Alucard!" she shouted and the girl covered her ears and screeched. Too loud! The lady made a face as the shadows in the room swirled and a red-clad man appeared from the wall. The girl caught the smell and frantically tried to burst free from the man's hold on her to get to her Sire. When that failed, she whimpered and held out her arms, calling for him to hold her. Her Sire took off his sunglasses and stared wide-eyed at her before crossing the room and taking her from her captor. She wrapped her legs around his waist and nestled into the groove of his arm underneath the heavy cloak. Working deeper into the outfit she managed to straddle him piggyback and with her arms around his neck, only her head and eyes sticking out. Hungry, she insisted and her little claws barely scratched the skin of his neck, seeking attention. He shifted to hold her legs still on his waist, turning his head slightly to meet her eyes.
Soon, he answered, making a "be-quiet" motion with his hand before walking over to the lady blood-bag and the magician.
"Alucard, what is the meaning of this? What is wrong with Seras?" the lady shouted again, and the girl ducked her head back into the coat. That lady was mad at her, she could tell. It was nice and warm in the cloak, so she snuggled against her Sire's back and fell asleep, no longer worrying about her angry tummy. He'd wake her when he decided it was time for a meal.
Integra paced the floor of her office, trying to understand what her servant was telling her. She sighed and pulled a cigar from her pocket, nodding to Walter when he came over with a light. She puffed and took another look at the toddler wrapped up in Alucard's cloak, fast asleep on his lap. She'd been looking over a particularly hard mission for her men when she'd felt something on her leg. Turning around, the only thing she had seen was a sharp set of fans and a head of blonde hair. If Walter hadn't been there, she'd have been a vampire by now.
"So it was a spell, caused by the FREAKs she was fighting and now she's a child." Integra ran a hand over her face, looking at the peaceful expression on the baby vampire's.
"Basically. Apparently, the FREAKS are experimenting with the same sort of rituals that your ancestors did. While the Hellsing family managed to harness and control the powers in the name of God, these FREAKs didn't have such luck. Some of the latent magic has seemed to rub off on Miss Victoria, and now she's a child," Walter said as he eyed the girl with a considering glare. "I believe I have some of your old clothing stored in the attics. Perhaps she can wear them until we get all this sorted out."
"I understand that, but I don't comprehend how she can't communicate, or why she would try and bite me!" Integra rubbed her leg absently as she shuddered, remembering the gleam of dainty fangs in a darkened building. Alucard nodded and gestured to the blonde hair of the girl in his lap.
"Small children run on instincts before morals. I'm afraid the Police Girl's educated mind has been thrown on the backburner while instinct has taken over." He rubbed the locks affectionately. "And, being her creator I understand her perfectly." His gaze grew serious. "This is why vampires don't create our own kind out of children. They cannot function properly and they'll never grow out of it. Children will always be children-while that's interesting for a while, in the long run it's both a danger and a pain."
"Well, what can we do to fix it? I want every document that can help us reverse this on my table tomorrow morning." Walter jumped to attention and bowed before running off to fulfill orders. Alucard also took his leave, carrying the tiny thing to his chambers for a well-needed meal.
Afterword: I doubt this will be a long story at all. Three, maybe four chapters at the most.