Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing.
This is my first fanfic. Well, reviews are encouraged!
Chapter 1: The Cost of Smoking
Two years had passed since Hellsing's head was released from temporary confinement. The Queen had decided to give her parole after contemplating and realizing the loyalty and faithfulness of her female knight. Hellsing Organization was back to business again, tracing down vampire freaks night after night until all are found and destroyed.
Integra was once again sitting on the dimly lit office of hers, checking and reviewing files that are of great importance to the country of England. She was still the same old-good Integra, the master of monster, although 2 years older and as beautiful as a 25-year old woman can be: she was on her full blossom. Her platinum hair, which was now slightly longer, was carelessly hanging on her shoulders. Her gloved hand and olive-colored man's suit remained as her casual trademark. Her pale blue eyes still flickered with dignity, pride and honor though most of the times it was concealed by her high-grade eyeglasses. But one thigh was missing. In times like this, when Integra had so many thighs to do, so many tasks to handle and so many puzzles to solve, it was her cigarette that she would most likely want to have.
Smoking had been her vice since she turned eighteen. It was one of her father's habits that she eventually adopted. Smoking allows her to think and relax whenever great pressure burdens her. But she could not resort to it now. After five and a half years, she had to restrain herself from using it after being diagnosed of having chronic pulmonary emphysema. A year ago, she was rushed to the hospital when her condition worsened; moreover, the doctors found out that she also developed hypoxia. She became better after being treated for whole month. It was the effect of hypoxia that she had been suffering for the past few months: depression of mental activity and reduced work capabilities of the muscle which took effect on her working condition and position as well. But she was strong, had to be, for the lives of her countrymen were carried on her shoulders.
The silence on her office was broken due to the ringing of the telephone that was placed inside her desk. She picked it up and said, "Integra Hellsing speaking. Who is this?"
"I am your conscience," the voice from the other end of the line spoke, " Tell me, does your lungs hurt you?"
Integra's eyes widened with fury and she angrily stood up. "Stop this nonsense! Whom am I speaking to?" She was already irritated at the nuisance of the mysterious caller.
"Sir Integra? It's me Walter, is there something wrong?" came the voice of her butler.
Integra was stunned at the ambiguity of the situation but easily regained her composure, as her female instinct knew exactly that the Walter she was talking to was the real deal.
"Walter was is it?"
"Sir Integra, are you alright?" came the worried voice.
"I am now. What is it you wanted to tell me?"
"I wanted to check on your condition, Sir. Are you well?" Walter's voice was tainted with something that could only mean alarm.
"Everything's alright, Walter." She spoke as she sat down, "Did something happened?"
" Unfortunately, yes. There was an attack that happened two hours ago. The victim was a lady, a royalty. There were bite marks on her neck and it was assumed that a vampire or vampires were responsible. But something is more important. The Queen's knowledge of her relative's death can be another ground for another unjust things, specially to this organization, I'm afraid."
Integra closed her eyes and frowned.
Why wouldn't these freak vampires ever cease?
She arranged the eyeglasses on the bridge of her nose and spoke, "How come that the attack had not been reported earlier? I expect to have an explanation from the patrol group assigned there and hand me the full report."
"But Sir, that is another problem. Your men, all them, were killed. There were no bite marks on their neck, instead it were on their chest, near the heart. Sir Integra, this is the doing of a vampire or vampires that are here. Also, the lady, your men and the cheap converted vampires are lying dead here as well."
"What!" Integra roared. She almost crushed her paper works when she hit her table with her fist. " Walter, where are you at the moment?"
"In the crime scene, Sir."
"What brought you there?" Integra sounded a bit untrusting but obviously was just curious.
"Sir, a man called me last night. He said that I should meet him here at 8 o'clock in the evening, which is exactly two hours ago. He mentioned someone that I have acquaintance to in the past and decided to come here. But what greeted me were dead bodies. I apologize for not telling you about this earlier."
"Apology accepted. But Walter, our personal lives must less be given importance with our duty. We mustn't let our emotions get the better of us. Understood?"
"Very clear, Sir."
Then the phone went dead.
Integra placed her hand on her forehead and stayed still for a while. She needed to think, to concentrate. Thinking about what just happened a little while ago, her, lecturing a chronologically advanced man in the person of Walter, was very unlikely. She already sensed something was wrong. Walter is a wise man of nature; he wouldn't get into things, which are of no value and without being prepared.
And that voice. Who was it? Her conscience? And who was responsible for the peculiar deaths? Another freak vampire wanting to be dominate the world? Or was it something else?
It was so much. Two years after having rest, here she was again, brainstorming again on puzzles that she had been dealing with almost her entire life.
Integra stood up; she needed to go somewhere where she could think, a place where comfort would be there to guide her. She was barely a foot away from her desk when suddenly, her breath shortened. She tried to stand firm but drowsiness swept over her, the effects of hypoxia again taking over her. She staggered and clumsily fell forward to the ground, but before she passed out, she felt two strong arms caught her which stopped her from her descend.