Hellsing © Kirano Kouta
It was not sweet, romantic love. His eyes were cruel rather than soulful.
It was not fiery, passionate love. His lips were savage rather than gentle.
It was not kind, tolerant love. His hands were brutal rather than tender.
It was animalistic lust.
He had impaled a legion not for her, his liege, but for his own amusement. He had torn a man's head in half and swallowed the eyeballs like Turkish Delight not for her, his commander, but just to taste that soft, pulpy mess. He had torn a thousand throats, not for her, his master, but to sate his desires.
Desire. The irrevocable binding of sex and blood. For him, it would never be anything else. The urge to bruise and tear and bloody. The craving to rip the pale body beneath him like a fairy's handkerchief and swallow that cool tongue whole.
Mina. She was his Mina, and he was her Satan. Holy? This man would have violated and brutalised Mary. And he let her know it. His grin was like Samiel's ashen smile in the darkness as he descended.
A/N: In Jewish lore, Samael, or Samiel, is the angel of death and wrath, said to be the one who tempted Eve in the Garden of Eve. Also, Samiel, the Black Huntsman, is a character in the opera Der Freischütz, which is referenced by the vampire Rip van Winkle when she faces Alucard.
