"We don' want no bloody peace agreement!", screamed a man from a vast crowd.
In Belfast, Ireland, a huge crisis was occurring. A sudden explosion of new vampire attacks had been bursting to a fever pitch of violent, blood-soaked murders. It almost seemed as though there was a greater cause than a sudden urge of hunger. Something deep. Something dark. Something sinister.
No normal weapon can kill a vampire; only weapons ritually blessed can be used to kill such a beast. There are only two groups that are specialized in this field; a protestant organization called Hellsing, and the Vatican. Almost as a given, the two organizations do not get along.
Since the Protestant Reformation, Hellsing and the Vatican had denounced each other, not wanting anything to do with each other. However, since the vast increase in vampire attacks, has caused even the United States to take action. Ever since Clinton had came into office five years ago, President Clinton had been interested in uniting the Catholics and the Protestants, and this very crisis could very well accomplish that goal.
Soon enough, President Clinton, Integra Hellsing; leader of the Hellsing organization, and a Cardinal from the Vatican agreed to meet with each other on a early day in September 1998, on a large platform surrounded by 10 foot high (3 m) bulletproof glass, to nationalize both Hellsing and the Vatican, accept help from the United States army to train soldiers for fighting vampires, and to take care of the problem once and for all. However, this was only one month after Clinton admitted to the nation that he had an "immoral" relationship with a young White House intern. The freak show that Washington had become almost shadowed the gigantic crisis that was going on in England and Ireland.
"Those who make peace shall inherit the earth. There will be wolves in sheep's cloth-" started Clinton, dismissing the man who interrupted him.
"YEH HEARD MEH!", screamed the man from the crowd, "Ay rather have dem vampires eat ev'ry last one o' us den let dem heretics join deh Vatican!", the man screamed.
That's certainly not what the majority of the people of Ireland believe.", Clinton shot back. "They are…. No… We are scared for the safety of all of us. We cannot have people like you spoil our only hope for protecting Ireland and England from the vampi-"
"Ah, go have a whore suck yer WANKER!", taunted the man, still hidden from the crowd.
Everyone gasped, whispers filled the air. The Cardinal glared at the general area of where the man's voice was coming from, Integra glared coldly at the general direction of the disembodied voice, shaking her head.
Clinton's eyes grew wide, his face flushing with anger, his veins were popping out of his neck and his forehead. His mouth disappeared into a thin, white line. He was trying to control his rather famous rage, but he was clearly loosing.
He lost it, simply not caring anymore.
"I get enough of this shit at HOME. With my wife, with my kid, with my congress, with the senate… I want to move on from this freak show in Washington that I myself created, and I want no more deaths from those goddamned vampires, and all I want is fucking PEACE between you too, so that there won't be such a big fu-"
"AH COME OFF IT! We all know all yeh care 'bout is shaggin' dat fat whore!" said the man, obviously trying to get the president to get even more angry.
People in the crowd were staring to get quite angry at the disembodied voice that the president was being taunted by. "Shut the fuck up" and "Stop being a wanker" were quite audible throughout the crowd.
Clinton's face was a deep shade of purple by now. He was ready for a fight by now, forgetting why he was there in the first place.
"Well………. Who the… hell…are… YOU?!?!?!?" Clinton managed to say, clenching and unclenching his fists.
With help from the crowd, he was pushed to the very front of the crowd. News cameras, whose lens were focused on Clinton's outburst, swung to the man who had been heckling the president.
The heckler was a very tall man, about 6'5 feet tall (1.8 m), with short, spiked brown hair. He had piercing green eyes behind his circular, gold-rimmed glasses.
He wore a priests collar, with a golden cross necklace, and a long, leather trench coat that touched the ground. He wore leather gloves with the words 'Speak with the Dead' and 'Jesus Christ is in Heaven'.
"I'm Father Anderson, apart o' deh Holy Catholic church, 13th section o' deh Iscariot. Yer a…" An Irish policeman tried to pull him away, but Clinton replied, with a thin smile, "Let him finish."
"Thank yuh. Anyways, yer a filthy heretic…"
Clinton's eyebrows shot up, surprised that the Father said "Thank you", but continued to insult him.
"…An' yeh don' give a shit about deh HOLY Catholic chuch, deh FIRST church, formed by SAINT PETER, yeh don' care about deh people o' Ireland, or even yer own countray! Yuh know why? Cawze yer a filthay liar, yeh cheat on yer own wife wit a whore dat's onleh five year younger dan yer own daughta! Yeh call yerself a chirstian? Yer deh anti-christ! DAT'S RIWGHT, YER DEH ANTI-CHRIST! AN' YER GONNA BURN 'N HELL! FOREVA AND EV-"
Integra, to the right of the president, seemed as though she could not take it anymore. She took a few steps closer to the edge of the patform, only a few feet away from the bullet-proof glass. She took a deep breath, filled with fire, brimstone, and rage said: "Dear GOD, you Catholics are so barbaric, you cannot even show respect to the President of the United States! I cannot even begin to phantom that YOU, of all people; would heckle the leader of the free world, when YOU, Father Anderson, are apart of such a humungous role in the Vatican itself! One would think that the Vatican hired you to disrupt the peace agreement!"
Catholics in the crowd roared in disapproval with Integra's abrasive comment. Protestants cheered. The cardinal looked at Integra, with much hurt in his eyes. "What…." he tried to say.
"Cunt", "Protestant Whore", and more colorful terms were thrown out in the air at Integra. She stood there, and smiled. Clinton seemed as though he was in deep thought, and seemed to have come up with something to say.
"You… sir… are apart of the Vatican?" Clinton asked.
"Dat's right! Ay am deh top vampire hunter in deh whole lot! Ay've killed so many o' dem bloody vampires Ay…"
"Sir… even though I didn't really appreciate what you said before, but I am proud that you are such a leading cause for the extermination of the vampires." Clinton turned to Integra, giving her a look that screamed: 'Don't say a single word pleassssssse' Integra nodded, she understood.
Clinton continued; "….Those feats should certainly be recognized. We must join together, Father, for a common cause. I remember in my Georgetown days that I actually considered becoming a Jesuit, although I'm a Southern Baptist, and I didn't think I could be celibate." Clinton lightly jabbed at himself, laughing.
"Ay don' give a shit if yeh considered become deh queen o' ENGLAND, yer still a GODLESS HERETIC PERVERT who don' know his place! For Christ's sake, yeh kill BABIES!", screamed Father Anderson.
"One would never expect the 'baby-killer' card, would they?", Clinton muttered, rolling his eyes.
To put it crudely, Father Anderson went "Batshit insane".
"IT'S TRUE! IT'S TRUE! IT'S T-R-U-E! HE'S A MONSTER! I'LL TAKE THOSE BABIES YOU KILLED! I TAKE CARE OF THOSE BABIES! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!!" screamed Father Anderson with all of his might, his chest heaving in and out.
The Cardinal on the stage was starting to sweat. "Father… I am very proud of you for being such a good man for taking care of the orphans, and for exterminating the vampires, but please… we must forget our differences with Hellsing, and join together with the President. He's a good man, he may disagree with us on some things, but a lot of things we agree on…"
"Yeh know the Holy Father (Pope John Paul II) nevar intended fer dis to happen! What deh hell are yeh doin'?!?" Father Anderson said, tilting his head like a confused puppy.
Several policemen were looking up at Clinton from the ground, wondering when they could take the Father into custody.
Thoughts were racing through Clinton's head a million miles an hour. 'What's this revelation this Father Anderson character made? Was it true? Did the Cardinal know about this? How would Integra react?' and finally: 'That's why he hates me so much… naturally a priests have problems with me, but this man runs an orphanage…'
Clinton turned toward Integra, her mouth wide open, her eyes burning holes into Father Anderson.
The crowd was getting visibly confused and upset, the protestants in the crowd were starting to scream even louder. Clinton took that as the cue to shut Anderson up.
"We don't need to hear this man anymore…" muttered Clinton. "He's disrupting the peace agreement, take him into custody." Clinton ordered forcefully.
As the policemen started to grab ahold of him, Father Anderson's eyes filled with tears, his face was contorted with mixed with rage.
"Whut? Cardinal, why aren't yeh telling' dem deh truth?" WE CATHOLIC'S NEVAR SURRENEDR TO DEM FILTHY HERETICS!!!" suddenly, he drew two large bayonets from his back, ready to cut through the policemen.
Before they could react, Father Anderson was nowhere to be found. The policemen looked around, looks of confusion and frustration were spread across their faces.
The Secret Service men surrounded the President, Integra, and the Cardinal (most concentrated around the president), their guns pointed out. Integra stood there rooted, her hand inside her coat pocket.
Suddenly, a human-shaped blur rocketed down from the sky, descending straight down onto the platform.
With a deafening thud, Father Anderson landed on the platform, kneeling; the secret service cocked their guns down to where he was kneeling.
Father Anderson stood there, tears flowing down his face; rage filling throughout his body.
Everyone's mouth in the crowd dropped. One, someone other than Integra, the Cardinal, and the President was on the platform. The other was that a human being could jump that high, and clear a 10 foot high wall of bullet-proof glass.
"I WAN' TO KNOW WHY DEH FUCK YER HERE!" screamed Anderson, shaking his swords at the Cardinal.
"The… Holy… Father… sent… me….here…." whimpered the priest, tears and snot running down his face, his eyes filled with terror.
"FUCKING LIAR! YEH FUCKING LIAR!" roared Anderson at the cardinal.
'Great. Just FUCKING great.' thought Integra. 'The police can't get in here because all the entrances to the platform are locked, and the glass is so damn strong that they can't get through them no matter how hard they tried. Man… it was such a good idea at the time… just in case a rowdy member of the crowd got a hold of a policeman, they would have no way of getting to the platform since we didn't give the policemen keys. We even built a bloody 10 foot high (3 m) bloody platform!'
He disappeared into thin air, yet again, his body turning into a blur.
Integra finally grabbed her long, silver gun from her coat pocket. "HE'S ON THE MOVE! DON'T LET HIM GET THE PRESIDENT!" she screamed, trying to follow the fast moving priest with her eyes.
Somehow, Father Anderson found a gap through the Secret Service, and was right next to the Cardinal.
WHACK!
With one swift arc of Father Anderson's bayonets, the priest managed to decapitate the Cardinal.
The Cardinal's head flew into the air, over the bullet-proof glass wall, and into the crowd.
The crowd went hysterical, with pure fear, with fear for their lives.
Everyone, including the news reporters and camera crew, ran away, with only their lives in interest. The policemen stayed, all grasping their walkie-talkies, desperately calling for more law enforcement. They simply could not do a thing for the people in the platform.
The Cardinal's body fell to the ground, blood seeping onto the floor like a river.
Again, Father Anderson disappeared out of human sight, this time heading toward the president.
"SHOOT! I DON'T CARE WHERE, JUST SHOOT AT ANYTHING YOU CAN SEE! I DON'T CARE!" ordered Integra to the secret service. Integra took over as the ring leader, instead of Clinton.
Unfortunately, their attempts were futile, the only thing they could hit was the bullet-proof glass.
"UNLOCK THE GODDAMN DOOR!!!!" screamed the police.
Integra looked at the police with a look of 'are you fucking retarded?!?'.
"I CAN'T! I'M TRYING TO PROT- OH MY GOD!" screamed Integra, as she saw all the bodies of the Secret Service men cut in half in a radial motion.
A wave of blood splashed all over the platform, covering the glass, the floor, and engulfing the President and Integra in a crimson coat of blood and guts.
"AUGHHHH! AUGHHH! AUGHHH! AUGHHHHHHH!" screamed Clinton, his eyes dilated almost as if he was on LCD. He was shaking uncontroably, and still screaming.
"Ah… yeh big fat fuck, yer gonna get a special place in hell, yeh baby killer, yeh heretic, yeh tradition killer….", whispered Anderson loud enough for only Clinton to hear, bringing his sword straight down, trying to cut Clinton into two halves.
BING!
Integra managed to shoot at the two bayonets in his hands, which shattered into hundreds of tiny, metallic shards. She shot at him again, and this time she managed to get his right hand.
"SON OF A BITCH!" "CUNT!!!!" "THAT FUCKING HURTS!" he screamed, squeezing his hand to his chest, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Well, Ay'm fucked, aren't I?" said the priest to no one in particular. He disappeared for the last time that day, landed onto the street below, and took off as fast as he possibly could, leaving the policemen and police vehicles into the dust.
"The wanker got away…" muttered Integra, taking a deep, long breath as she put her gun back into her coat pocket, and grabbed out a key.
She left a trembling, sobbing Clinton in the middle of the platform to let the policemen in.
The policemen were still shocked, simply staring at the horrific scene that they thought could only be seen in movies.
"Oh man… oh man…" muttered a young officer, heaving in and out, and turned away to vomit.
Ambulances flooded into the scene, the slain secret service men and the slain cardinal were laid onto stretchers.
Integra turned around, and went back to Clinton. She picked him up into her arms; a hard task for anyone, the man was about 230 pounds (104 kg), and 6 foot tall (1 m).
Clinton was speechless, but tears were flowing from his eyes as he stared up at her. She was covered in even more blood now, but she simply didn't care.
"heh heh heh-" Clinton gasped for air. His eyes slowly closed, and he started to drool.
"He's in cardiac arrest!" screamed Integra at the Ambulance personnel.
They grabbed Clinton out of her arms, put him onto a stretcher, placed the stretcher onto the ambulance, closed the doors, and drove off into the distance to the nearest hospital.
Integra stood there, her hands covering her face, wondering how this could happen, and how anything could possibly go so wrong as it had today.
The camera men were gone, the crowd was gone, the policemen were gone, and the ambulance was gone. Other than the stray papers and leaves that blew through the street, she was all alone.