Paris, June 9, 2014

My name is Sophia Lebrun, but you may call me Ivy. I'm twenty-three and I've been working since the two past years in a bar called Aphrodite's. I live by my own since I'm sixteen. You see, I couldn't stand my parents anymore, so I simply ran away from home… Well, this is what I've been telling everyone.

My real name is Weena Shelling, and I'm twenty. There are a few reasons why I'm lying about my identity, but I won't explain them all – it'd be way too long. Let's just say I was only seventeen when I got the job – so I had to lie to my boss to get it. He might be stupid sometimes, but not enough to hire an underage barmaid.

You see, the current world where I live in isn't the world you thought you knew. I wasn't born in a world like this, but I grew up in it. Words like vampires, ghouls and other stuff like that wouldn't mean a thing to me until I was five. Since then, everybody knows what vampires are able to do. At first, everybody feared them. Now, everybody is hunting them down.

I was five years old when the London war occurred. That day, I lost my mother. She wanted to protect me and was caught by vampires. My dad escaped with me, but after that, he changed. He was always pretty nostalgic and looking at me like he was looking at my mom. Well, I did look like her a lot: I had the same curly red hair, the same freckles all over my face, the same pointy noise. The only things I've got from my dad were my eyes, icy blue ones, and my temper.

My father taught me everything I needed to know to survive in a world where vampires could hunt humans down any time. I kept asking him how he could know such things, but he wouldn't tell me. I learned how to shoot, to fight, and to kill. By the age of fifteen, I was transformed into the perfect killer. Who would suspect a cute little teenager of being a death machine?

Something else that is quite weird about me is the fact that since forever, I've been able to sense vampires and monsters around me. It's like a sixth sense. And, when I'm hurt, I'm always healing at a wonderful speed. My dad told me it was a gift from my mom, but I never understood what he meant, and I'll never do.

When I was sixteen, he died in his sleep. He was sixty-four, and had been sick since a long time. Even if I was sad to lose him, I was happy for him: he finally got to reunite with Mom.

One of his old friends, a lord, took me in. He wanted to educate me. I felt something, I couldn't say exactly what, when I met him. I couldn't trust him at first, and I now know why now: a year later, he tried to rape me. I killed him without really knowing it and, then, ran away. I know my dad wouldn't have left me with a rapist; it was another one of his tests, one he left behind him, as if to say: "See, I knew you could be just fine by yourself. You don't need a life of luxury – you don't want it".

I got my current job by killing the previous barman, who was a vampire, in front of my boss. Being a vampire huntress helps you, I guess. And here I am now, serving drinks and killing monsters. Amazing.

I went to my job around 9:30 p.m. like always, with a lot of makeup, contacts and a wig put on to cover my freckles, my bright blue eyes and my red hair. I didn't want to be recognized by anyone. Here, I'm Sophia, and no one else. Anyway, by moving in France, I started a new life. I don't think anyone I know would recognize me here, but who knows what might happen…

I think it was around midnight when I noticed him. He wasn't like the others customers, who were, for most of them, middle-aged alcoholic men tired of their wives. Oh, no: he was wearing a black suit that fitted his long and shiny raven hair. Even if it was dark, he was wearing those weird sunglasses that were hiding his eyes. But there was something else about him… he had such a presence… I don't really know, I just couldn't stop watching him.

Angie, a girl who's working with me and who had been clearly interested in this guy since he came in, came to talk to me.

"Hum, Ivy, cet homme veut un verre", she said to me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Et qu'y a-t-il de si surprenant à propos de cela, Angie ?" I asked her. "Nous sommes dans un bar. Les gens viennent ici pour prendre quelques verres, tu sais?"

She rolled her eyes and started to play with a lock of her blond hair. "Il veut une coupe de vin rouge et il veut que ce soit toi qui la lui apporte."

I sighed and took a cup and opened a bottle of wine. People who were coming in this bar to drink wine were actually quite rare, you know? The customers were always buying beer and rarely something else.

I leaved the bar and walked in his direction, giving him what he wanted. I also noticed that he was with a girl who was like twenty, with short blond hair. I had to admit that she was pretty cute even if she was looking pretty uncomfortable beside him, looking all around as if the girls were about to jump on her. I'd be more scared of the men who kept starring at her boobs if I was her…

"Voilà, monsieur", I simply said to him. The guy smiled.

"It's very nice to meet you, my dear. May I introduce myself?" He stood up, took my hand and kissed it. "My name is J.H. Brenner."

Oh, I see, a gentleman. From London, I think, who couldn't apparently talk in French. I took my hand back quickly. His lips were cold like ice.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Brenner. Excuse me, but I have to leave you." I spoke with a French accent, like I usually did when I had to talk in my first language.

"May I know your name, my dear?" he asked.

"Ivy."

He chuckled, "All right, you don't want to give me your real name. It's okay with me. How much for a private dance?"

I was surprised. Only a few people knew about this. It wasn't really dance, it was pure sex – and it cost and arm for regular customers. Really. Only a few girls in the bar were doing this – like Angie. It was a little… bonus for them, a fast way to make extra money.

"Excuse-me, sir, but I'm only the barmaid. If you want a private dance, ask Angie – I think her tariff is two thousand boxes per, hum… dance."

A grin appeared on his face and, somehow, this look reminded me of someone. But I couldn't tell who. "I don't want this Angie girl, you know – it's you whom I want. I can pay you very well."

"Sorry, but I'm not interested in this. And what about your girlfriend? She wants to join the party?"

The girl lifted up her head.

"WHAT?!" she yelled. "Like I would be the girlfriend of this guy? He's like sooooo older than me, you know!"

Hum, all right. He's like, what, thirty-five, forty? Not that old…

"Come with me, Ivy. I'll pay you the price you want. Five thousand? Ten thousand? Fifty thousand?"

He was really pissing me off.

I met his eyes – well, his glasses. Even if mine were brown for the moment, I glanced the way my father did when he was still alive and pissed off. The Shelling look, as my Mom used to say.

Well, I guess it worked, because his horrible smile disappeared.

"Forget the price, mister. You won't ever be able to buy me."

Then I turned my back to him. I few seconds later, he was leaving the bar.

When I went back to my little apartment, I took a quick shower like I always did and then, before going to bed, I couldn't help myself: I had to find out who exactly was this J.H. Brenner. It didn't take long (it's pretty easy to find anything you want on the Net these days) before I found what I was looking for.

He was the guy who escaped Rio a couple of years ago, leaving only dead bodies behind him. And the girl… she was the girl who was with him today. But… it happened fourteen years ago, and they didn't even change!

Vampires. They were fucking bloodsuckers.

That's why he wanted a private dance. He wanted to drink my blood. He wanted to kill me – and probably to rape me (who knows with those crazy bastards). God, I'm so lucky to be alive right now.

But how come couldn't I find out he was a vampire? My… gift didn't work this time? Maybe I'm losing it. It'd be great, because I'd be normal again. I'd like to be. But it'd be bad: how would I survive without it?

I turned off my computer and went to bed. I knew he would come for me, because he hadn't been able to get my blood. I knew that he wasn't the type to simply let go. He would follow me until he'd catch me. He's surely going to be disappointed: I wouldn't surrender that easily. I'm a Shelling, after all!

It took only a couple of minutes – five or six – before he was there. I was right. He was sitting on my bed, just behind me.

"Bonsoir", I said, opening my eyes, slowly, and rolling on my back to face him.

He had changed his clothes. His hair was shorter than before, a big hat was on his head and he was entirely dresses in red. But he still had those weird glasses.

"You came back to finish the job you couldn't do, vampire?" I asked, this time in English. With a French accent, of course.

"You're right. Too bad you woke up; you wouldn't have notice anything."

Yeah, sure. I wouldn't have notice my throat being slashed, my blood being sucked out just like my life…

"Would you want to play a little game with me?" I asked him, giving him the Shelling look one more time.

He chuckled.

"That's pretty interesting. What kind of game?"

"Well, a fight. There's no rules: you can use whatever you like. I'll win if I kill you, and you'll win if I can't fight back anymore. Then, you'll have my blood."

I "played" with other vampires, before, and it always ended the same way.

He smiled in the dark. "I like this idea."

I smiled back. "Then, let's go."

I kicked him directly in the face as hard as I could. He laughed while falling back. It gave me enough time to grab my gun. I pulled the trigger until my magazine was empty, but the holes in him just closed. I only use silver bullets; he should be dead by now!

"Don't worry, my dear, I'll do it pretty quick," he said while standing again. "You won't even feel it – well, a little bit, of course, but it won't take long."

All right, he was stronger than I thought, but I could still beat him. Guns weren't effective? Fine. I'll use something else.

I figured out that he was trying to enter my mind. To do what exactly? To control me? Nice try, vampire, but sorry: you can't do this to me. It doesn't work.

He sure was surprised, because he stopped moving. I attacked him, trying to hurt him. He fought back, but didn't touch me.

Oh, shit. He's totally OK. God, I'm pretty fucked now.

"Good, I like it when a pray is fighting with me. It's so much nicer!"

I've never seen so many teeth in a mouth – even in a vampire's mouth. Shit, I didn't expect this! Who was he to be that powerful?!

He chose this moment to remove his glasses. Of course, his eyes were red, but what I saw in them was more than madness, than evil. He was madness. And that totally freaked me out. I couldn't move for a second, and couldn't breathe either.

When he grabbed me by the throat, I had a sudden vision of a tall man wearing old clothes. Like really, really old clothes, from another century. He looked just like the vampire who was holding me, except that he had a beard.

I suddenly understood.

"Dracula…" I whispered.

Surprised, he released me. I didn't have time to think: I had to escape for now. Running would help me think.

I jumped from the window, but he suddenly decided to grab my arm. I screamed from the pain, knowing he had dislocated my shoulder, and fired a single bullet in his eye. He dropped me and I fell from the third floor, screaming again. I wasn't prepared for this!

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the ground. Shit. It wasn't the time to sleep, stupid, it was the time to run!

When I tried to stand up, I fell back on my butt and tears started to pour down on my cheeks. I looked at my shirt and saw blood everywhere on it. Something had pierced it too: a rib. I had the worst headache of my life – I couldn't even think straight with it.

God. Oh God. I was strong, both physically and emotionally, but it was way too much for me. I couldn't run away, I couldn't fight back anymore. All I could do was die here. I had tried my best to kill that monster, but I wasn't strong enough.

"At least I tried…" as if my father was there, judging me of what was going on.

A second later, the vampire was there, just beside me. I paid no attention to him. He already knew I couldn't go anywhere, so he let me take care of my shoulder. Another useful thing my father taught me. When the bones were back in places, I screamed loudly. It was fucking painful, but I knew the pain would go away. At least, there.

Gasping for some air, I finally looked at him just as he was kneeling on my left and I laughed. "It seems like… I lost."

He said nothing. He simply took my in his arms, a grin still on his face. One of his gloved fingers was tracing circles on the skin of my injured arm as he slowly turned my face on the side. He leaned down and smelled me. "Hmm… yes, I'll truly enjoy this." Then, he looked at me. "You're beautiful… These hair…" He smelled them too. I felt goosebumps on my skin and, strangely, I liked it. I guess my head was more hurt then I thought: Dracula is going to kill you, Weena, and you replace your shoulder and enjoy his creepy sniffs? Poor girl, you're gone.

His lips brushed against my throat, sweet deadly kisses before the bite. It was strange. I had thought he would be the kind of vampire to rip apart his victims, and here he was, making me feel, well… comfortable?

" I can also take my time and enjoy a great meal".

He heard my thoughts? My mental wall was cracked? I didn't matter anyway.

I sighed and asked him: "Would you mind to shoot me right after your… your meal? I wouldn't want to turn into a ghoul."

My voice was shaking and I was trying the best I could to remain calm, but who could do so in my situation? I thought I was prepared for this, but right now, I wasn't a great vampire huntress; I was just a young girl scared to die.

His red glowing eyes met my iced blue ones. I saw some kind of respect in them. Not just madness.

"It's the least I can do for you, dear one."

I smiled and turned again. I didn't want him to see my teary eyes. I didn't want to look weak even if I was weaker than him. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

He slowly licked my skin, and let out a sigh.

"Merci."

I smiled. Mom, Dad, it's good to know that I'll see you soon…

"Enjoy the eternal night, dear…" he started.

Closing my eyes, I said:

"Weena. Weena Aimee Shelling."

And I tried to relax, waiting for my death to come.

He stopped before hurting me. He smelled me again. And, then, he started to laugh and released me. I looked at him as if he had gone mad.

"Oh, Edward, you fool… Shelling! Edward Shelling…"

"You… you knew my dad?"

He looked back at me.

"I was so blind… (he sighed) You know what happened fourteen years ago in London, do you?"

"Of course. I was there."

"You remember the great woman, the amazing human who was stronger than any vampire?"

"Integra Hellsing."

He stood up, offering hid hand. I simply grabbed it, biting my bottom lip hard because of the pain I felt almost everywhere in my body.

"Well, sir Hellsing died a couple of years ago, and she was your aunt."

I took a step back, trying to understand what he just said.

"What do you…"

"Shelling is an anagram, exactly like my name. They now call me Alucard, which is Dracula spelled backward. Well, Shelling and Hellsing are totally the same… Only a Hellsing could have thought of this."

Shit.

"It means…"

"You're coming with me. We're going back to London."

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1"Hum, Ivy, this guy wants a drink," she said to me. I raised an eyebrow.

2"And what's so surprising about this, Angie?" I asked her. "We're in a bar. People usually come here to have a couple of drinks, you know?"

3"He wants a cup of red wine and he wants you to give it to him."

4"Here you go, sir," I simply said to him.

5"Good evening".

EDIT

Hi there! I'm SO sorry for not updating since, well, two years ago… I updated chapter 1, and now I'm ready to start writing this fiction again! Chapter 2 is on its way… Soon!

(This is my first English fanfiction. I'm not bilingual and I hope I didn't make big mistakes. Hope you like it. I'd like some comments, if you don't like it, I'd like to know!)