Hello, and thank you for looking into my first submission. I do not own Hellsing.

"Timothy, I told you not to touch that! Get over here-now!"

The frail brunette flinched at the harsh tone of his overseeer. A curse fluttered through his head before he turned towards the source of the nag. His green eyes instantly found thier innocence and the corners of his mouth twitched into a boyish grin; it was a face that melted the knees of most of the women that caught him doing wrong, so he figured it could work on the newest volunteer.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, young man, and do as your told!"

His face instantly dropped. Not only had her features grown darker but she was even wagging a finger at him. What's wrong with her? he thought. Didn't she know that he was to be forgiven when he pulled that face? He let out a heavy sigh and dropped the soggy stick he had been holding, the tattered remains of a long dead rabbit plopping to the ground with it. "It isn't that big of a deal," huffed the boy, "Ain't like you care or anything." He stuffed his pale hands into his pockets and sauntered over to the tall figure ten meters away. When he stood only a foot away he looked up, his brows furrowing at her expression. For a split second he thought she looked hurt by his words; however, that couldn't be it-he had said it so low that even he could hardly hear the snide remark-so he brushed it off and went back to looking at the dirt.

The young woman called out his name, he answered back with a grunt. There was a small sliver of silence that came between them before she spoke in a much softer tone.

"Tim," she rested a hand on his shoulder, "I didn't mean to yell like that, but I told you three times before not to touch that thing."

The tip of his shoes dug into the moist earth. "I know," he said softly.

"If you knew that, why did you go ahead and do it?"

The ten-year-old looked up at her with a hint of aggrivation. "I saw you touch it too-last night. If you can, then why can't I?" When he sensed her hand jerk away he felt a little bolder. "It was dead when you touched it last night, right? You look just fine, so I thought I could touch it too."

"You're right," she said after a slight hesitation. "I do look just fine, but I'm different than you. I'm an adult; my body is much stronger than yours." And with that she gave him a hard pat on the back and pushed him back towards the orphanage. "I won't punish you too badly this time, but I don't want you doing anything like that again. Go clean up and stay inside until lunch." The young woman let him grumble as he trugged off towards the orphanage.

"Handled that well, if I do say so myself."

Her entire body jerked towards the voice, her eyes shining. It was none other than her current idol, Father Alexander Anderson. "You really think so?"

The sides of his eyes crinkled as a genuine smile spread across his face. "'Course, lass." The excitement of the young volunteer made him feel a sense of pride; it had been a long time since young people came in solely to help-ten months for them to help for any reason at all since Sophia applied-and most came in to look good for the universities. "Although, you might've been too light on him." He, as well as a few others, had been assigned to look over the volunteers to make sure everything went smoothly. Sophia White, the newest of them, was one of the handful of people he had been assigned to back then. She was also becoming his favorite-not that there was much competition, the other two helpers were lazy and moody.

She began to sport a shy grin at the comment. She lifted a hand to push a tight black curl back behind her ear. "That's what I figured too, sir," she admitted sheepishly, her brown eyes downcast at the mud around her. "But, he seemed to be a decent enough kid, you know? I didn't want to bring the hammer down on him for picking at a.." Her K-9's dug down into the flesh of her bottom lip as if to stop herself from slipping up. The usual gentle expression returned quickly when she met his gaze. "For picking at my nerves, sir." Anderson's hearty laugh told her he hadn't noticed the hesitation and she smiled once again.

"Next time you feel like you don't have the strenght to 'bring the hammar down', send the boy to me."

"Will do, sir!" chirpped Sophia as she gave him a salut. The action from the scrawny 5'6 woman had the man laughing a second time. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and gave a light squeeze. All the young lady saw in his eyes was acceptance and pride: two things she had been yearning to see for a very, very long time. Through them she could read his mind clearly and she felt a genuine smile trying to form. There was always so much love behind his eyes, even from the first day she could feel it; she almost felt that she could tell him anything and he would still accept her for who she is.

Slowly, her saluting hand placed itself ontop of his, her expression seeping into regret tinged with fear. Her heart was beating faster than it had in decades, her mind screaming for her to stop whatever the hell she was starting. Sophia took in a deep, shaky breath. "Father," she called softly.

When he heard her sober tone his smile dropped slightly. Where had that happy girl gone to all of a sudden? Had he done something to scare her off? He nodded as a way to tell her he was listening, to tell her to 'go on'.

"Father, there's something I need to tell you, and it isn't easy." She paused to bite her lip, half way anticipating for him to know what she was going to say. She searched his eyes and found that he was clueless about her coming confession, that his mind was swirling with what could've possibly happened to her and whether or not the children were all okay without his watchful eye.

"Take your time then."

'Keep your mouth shut; he won't understand.' Sophia focused on where his heart was, took another breath and prepared to defy what her mind was telling her. "I'm.. I've been.." He squeezed her shoulder when she trailed off into silence. "Father-now, don't be frightened when I tell you this-I'm not what I told you I was before. I'm something much, much different, you see. A few weeks ago I came here from America, not to finish up my studies, but because what little family I had didn't accept me for who I am. When I came here, my intentions weren't the best, but they changed when I met you." Her breath, which was unnecicarrially rapid, slowed down to a more sutable pace when she met his eyes again. He was thinking she was confessing her love to him.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said gruffly, placing his hands behind his back. "I'm glad I helped you see the right path."

"I'm not telling you I want you, Father," she whispered harshly, frustration creeping into her features. "I'm trying to be honest and tell you that I'm a-"

"Freak! Monster!"

The juvinile voice sent her attention swirling to the commotion behind her. Her eyes focused in on two blond girls, each mimicing the features of the other. When her wits caught up with her and her frustration simmered down, she realized it was the newly teenaged twins, Helen and Ellen. Per usual, they were both tugging each other's braids over a broken toy.

"Shut up, Helen! It was my toy. If you wanted to play with it then you should've asked!" grunted the twin with the jaw-lenght hair. Ellen Meister was the more boyish of the two, always being straight-foward and logical as possible. Her sister, Helen Meister, was the sensitive one, as well as the glamorous one-her looks and pride were more important than most things.

"You haven't even touched it in three years, how can you recognize it as yours anymore?" whined Helen. "I found that rusted old thing in the very bottom of the toy bin! You just don't want me to have it because I'm pretty!" With an aggrivated howl, the girls broke apart. Ellen raised a finger towards the other girl.

"You," she hissed, "are nothing but a thief! It was in my box, so it's my toy. Stop trying to be so vain all the time, you aren't that pretty." Ellen ran a tanned hand through her hair and kept making sure not to disrupt the single golden braid on her right side be disrupted.

"Henry seems to think that I'm just pretty enough." Each word that slid from Helen's glossed lips were filled with a venom so vicious that it even gave Sophia a chill or two. From her previous knowledge that the twins had given her on her breaks Sophia knew that Ellen had finally taken an intrest into boys, Henry being her first crush, but she had informed the woman that Henry had his sights on another. With the previous sentance she realized that it was Ellen's own sister that he overlooked the girl for.

The usual level-headed Ellen let her senses seep out of her, and in a swift movement there was a soft 'crack', a 'thud', and then a long wailing coming from her beauty queen of a sister. Seconds after that the sounds of footsteps approching fast got her back into her regular state of mind. Ellen let the reality of things seep into her core and regret hit her like a brick wall. "H-Helen!" The tomboy dropped to her sisters side. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it!"

"What's going on here?" The priest's presence was more than enough to make Ellen's golden skin turn into a paper white. Salty tears streaked her dirty face as she craned her neck up to his face. The frail figure began to tremble; his eyes held no hate, no love, no nothing anymore. All that she could think of is: 'What have I done?'

While little Ellen was feeling nothing but confusion about her current state, Sophia knew perfectly well what had just gone on. Ellen had struck her sister in the face. Hard.

Hard enough to draw blood.

"Didn't ya hear me, lass?" His eyes narrowed sharply as he knelt to meet her on eye-level. "I asked you a question, I expect an answer." Larger tears sprang from Ellen's eyes, her chapped lips parted to let out silent explinations. Nothing but a soft, "I didn't mean it" came from the girl. Anderson took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before looking over his shoulder at the volunteer. She looked absolutely shell shocked, hadn't she seen children acting like heathens before? He brushed it off and called her attention. "Take Helen inside, clean her up, I'll be in soon." There was a long pause but the woman eventually did as she was told.

What little blood that had gotten on her hands was drying, the bright red was quickly fading into a dull brown. If she wanted to have a taste of it then she'd need to do it soon. Her back was turned to the entrance of the mud room behind her and she knew no one would enter in the kitchen for atleast an hour. From any angle, either from the rear or from the side, it would look innocent. 'Go ahead,' she told herself, 'just a little taste. If you're going to cheat it might as well be with a virgin. God isn't testing you-He knows just as well as yourself that you won't go Freak if you have such a little dab.' Her coated finger's inched closer to her full lips, closer to her salvating mouth. The smell of the child's blood was almost over-bearing, but she wiped the mess on her light grey t-shirt. As much as she wanted it, she had decided to hold off on blood and only take from sick animals. This orphanage gave her a new life, with a new family, she refused to do anything to muck it up.

"Is everything taken care of?" The priest's voice was like a beacon of light to the wavering soul. She turned her head slowly and gave the slightest of grins.

"Yes, sir," said the woman, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was just a bloody nose, nothing but Helen's pride was broken today." He returned the smile and nodded towards the bowl of softening ice cream. Sophia followed his questioning gaze. "I figured she needed it; when I go to talk to her sister I'll give her some too. Ice cream is the medium needed to comunicate with any type of angry girl-take note of that one, sir."

"Course, lass. I've stocked it up here somewhere for safe keepin'." He tapped his left temple. "Don't know how much I'll use it though; I don't fancy raising spoiled children." Sophia shrugged in a 'fair enough' way as she rose from her seat at the small table in the middle of the room and picked up the wasted food.

"I sent her up to her room and forbade her from talking to anyone for the time being. Do you want the left overs or should I pour this out?" She had began to calm down with the few words they had exchanged. No anger, frustration or hunger clouding her mind-just the way she liked it. Now she could focus on what she came here to do and nothing but. Father Anderson motioned for her to dump the remainder of the sweet treat down the sink. The sound of running water and metal spoon clinging against glass bowl filled the room. It seemed to be easy-going, but the air still held a tinge of thickness to it. Sophia took one look at her 'boss' and found that he wanted to ask something, however she broke the gaze too soon to tell what; she had a strong feeling she knew what it was about, and an even stronger one that he would bring it up soon.

"Lass."

"Yes?"

"No need to rush with washing, our shift ended twenty minutes ago."

"Oh, well that's good for us then."

There was a short pause before anything else was exchanged, and she took this time to examine her mentor. He looked somber, but nervous. He had something he wanted to say but it seemed to be innappropriate for the time being, so he stayed quiet. Had this been any other man, Sophia would have berated him for being so timid. She respected the priest more than any man she had ever met beforehand.

"Aye." He moved out of the kitchen then and she followed like she always does. "And while I think of some things for you to do, why don't we talk about what happened before that fight broke out." To her dismay, it wasn't a question, it was an order.

"Yes, sir," she grumbled. The dissapointment was radiating from her body, as well as dripping from her voice. She had wanted to tell him, yes, but that want was a spontanious one. While she had been cleaning Helen up in the kitchen, the young woman had decided to keep her demons to herself until she was ready to at a later date-maybe even until her dying breath. However, Anderson had made her choice for her and she felt the need to oblige him of his wish to hear the truth. "Of course, sir."

"Now, lass, if I remember correctly, you were tellin' me that you had something to confess," he began. "Told me you weren't who you said you were." He glanced over at her then, noticing that her face twisted into guilt and regret. "I thought about avoidin' what's happening now, but I can't ignore whatever lie you told me. You're working with children, Sophia, you understand, don't you?" When she nodded he turned away. The two were in silence after that; Alexander waiting patiently for the girl to come clean, Sophia gathering up enough courage to speak. Finally, when he couldn't take her hesitation any longer she spoke up.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," she said softly. Sohpia noticed that he had turned his head to hear her better, and an amused smile had settled on his face. While she could easily tell he was taking her seriously, Anderson had found the fact that she was literally confessing to him quite humorous. He kept his eyes off of her, it was obvious she didn't want to look at him now and he felt it was alright to respect her silent wish. "It has been five years since my last confession. I have broken the fifth comandment." Sophia paused, took a shaky breath, and let it out slowly.

"Is that all?" When she whispered a "no" he became silent enough to let her compose herself.

"And the eight comandment, and the third comandment, and the-" She swallowed audibly. "The sixth commandment, Father."

"You-.."

"A helpless rabbit I found running by the playgroud. And countless animals before that." Her brown eyes darted up to the confused priest that had stopped in the middle of the pathway. She looked around her then, realizing that he had led her outside and into the empty church not far from the orphanage. Her gaze traveled back to the towering figure before her. Consern was on his mind, but not for the children; he was questioning why she would ever harm anything, especially a bunny.

Sophia had never felt more fear than the few seconds in between her next confession. She knew what Father did in his spare time-he had told her after seeing her hold up a bed to let a frightened child know that there were no boogymen underneath, stating that she was strong enough to go though the training with great ease-and from his zealous attitude towards ending the lives of heritics and non-believers she knew he'd do away with her in the same way. She had wanted so much to stay here, under his wing and helping children for the rest of her days; she wanted him to stay ignorant to just how tainted and dirty she was. She shook off the fear and accepted whatever fate he would give her.

"I had to, Father. I wouldn't ever jepordize anyone there, especially the children."

Suddenly she saw that he understood what she had wanted to confess hours ago. This gave the woman a small ounce of relief that she didn't have to say it outloud, but the feeling wasn't enough to make her feel better about how hurt and betrayed he looked. She saw no anger in his eyes, only conflict. He knew what his job was to do at this point, had she been a stranger he would've done it with a wicked smile on his face.

Since Sophia knew the priest wouldn't be talking anytime soon she decided to tell him more. "I've been this way for a very long time, Father," while she continued she moved past him and started walking towards the silver cross in the center of the alter. "I had been caught up with finacial issues in America after my family threw me out for quitting school. I met a man that promised to help me get my life together-he was old, so I felt safe living with him for while.

"He damanded things from me I wasn't prepared to give a few years later, and when I refused he became angry. We fought, I lost because he was much stronger than I anticipated. Luckily, after he took off my legs, broke an arm, dislocated the other as well as my jaw, I wasn't attractive enough for him to get what he originally wanted; however, when he smelled I was still a virgin, he went for something much more precious to me now. He got his fill quickly, and because he was a sick mother-" Sophia cleared her throat and calmed herself; talking about the man that turned her always got the best of her. "A sick son of a gun, he offered me a chance to not die. I was nineteen at the time and was more than frightened of what would happen to me if I were to die, so I took his offer-I thought he was going to fetch a doctor."

She stopped a meter away from her destination and turned towards the Father to make sure he was paying attention. "The monster trained me in the bare basics of what I needed to know before I killed him. After that, I slipped into the night life for friends and for prey. As you can see, I got tired of that and traveled here. I decided to try being human again to see if that would get me out of whatever funk I was in back home." She was much too far to see his eyes, which meant she couldn't see what he was thinking. With a soft sigh she turned back to the shining cross. "It did help me feel better, more than you'll ever know, Father. I was so happy to be around you all. You never judged me, threatened me, or forced me to do anything I didn't want to do." Sophia turned to him with a bittersweet smile. "You know, besides cleaning the attic." Her gaze fell upon the cross again, this time lifing a delicate finger to touch a sharp corner. It burned her flesh to the bone instantly, and when she pulled away she willed the remaning fibers of skin to weave together once more. It was slow, almost two minutes, but it eventually turned back to what she wanted the finger to look like. "Father, I know what you have to do, and I accept ever bit of it, so just know I'm not mad at you."

It was dead silent after that. The woman began to wonder if he hadn't just left her alone in the church as a way to give her a chance to escape and put this life behind her, as if he was saying he was completely done with her. That thought made her eyes prick with the oncoming tears. "Father," hicced Sophia, "I-I'm sorry for my sins." After another hic the blood red tears fell. Seconds later, after her face was streaked in blood, she openly sobbed. "Please forgive me!" She wasn't crying for her impending doom, she was crying because her most humane life, her happiest life thus far, was over. She genuinely loved spending time with the children, staying out of the night, and getting to know her idol; but now all of it was over. Now, she would spend an eternity in Hell.

Alexander never tore his eyes away from the monster. He was of Section Thirteen, the Iscriot's trumph card, killing her was his duty. On top of that, he had been lied to, and lying was something he never tolerated. Every card for wanting to rip her to shreads was layed in the perfect places, but something was holding him back. When she started to cry he filled in the space between them. She hadn't been focusing on him anymore-like she had just given up-and when he turned her around and embraced her it took the woman by surprise. Anderson's hand snaked up from his side and rested heavily on the top of Sophia's skull, his arms pulling her in closer. "I forgive you, lass," he said gently, "and I'm sure God forgives you too. You didn't want this, you've done everything in your power to turn it around, now haven't you?" The large man felt her nod into his shoulder while her hands dug into the front of his cassock. He patted her head softly as the whimpering started up again.

Sophia gasped as a warm sensation hit the side of her neck. It took the blinding pain and loud hissing before she realized he had pushed a blessed bayonette into her. She smiled bitterly and opened her mouth to say goodbye, but all that came out was a gargled mess and blood. So, she looked into his eyes and mouthed the words just before he jerked the blade away from him, decapitating her. The corpse fell with a sickening thud while the beast's head stayed clutched to his chest.

"Goodbye, child. May you finally rest."

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