Blood. . . It's smell was the only thing that lingered in Subject 13's padded room, mainly consisting of his own, along with the digusting smell of rotten untouched food. He had not long recovered from his daily torture from his "father" who constantly subjected him to painful experiments, constantly testing his regenarative abilities. On one day, they'd use cattle prods on his body, sending strong electrical currents into his bare body, the next would involve having his nails torn off, only for them to grow back, and of course the worse was having high pitched sounds sent directly to his ear drums, for his senses were far more superior, and he was not even human to begin with.

Subject 13 was in fact a werecat, his body may have looked human, but his furred cat ears and tail was a dead giveaway. Taken away at birth from his parents, who were killed by the organisation known as Millennium, a group which consisted of overzealous vampire nazis, who wanted nothing more than death and destruction.

Unfortunately for them, they were reduced to a small group, all thanks to their Major's death and countless others by the hands of a powerful vampire. With little chance of survival, they retreated underground, to a bunker which was hidden in plain sight in the fields of an abandoned farm in northern Scotland, where they could slowly bide their time in bringing back their army, and strike back at their adversaries. The remaining first lieutenant's took it upon themselves to slowly but surely increase their forces, using drug, and human trafficking to earn funds to create special chips, which created artifical vampires, or FREAKS in other terms.

They secretly used places like nightclubs, to bring in new recruits, deal drug related businesses etc, all while avoiding the gaze of their enemies. Of course, when they weren't recruiting, capturing, or dealing, they would let FREAKS roam freely, letting them commit hideous acts, even targeting civilians or authorities if they were poking their noses in places they shouldn't have been.

During Subject 13's captivity, he was highly educated, able to read, write, and had displayed a high level of intelligence at the age of six, both fluent in german and english. Over time, the Doctor would name him Schrodinger, mainly due to the catboy's intelligence.

The boy was isolated in his room, with nothing but a small thin blanket to keep his body warm, or at least most of it anyway. Wondering if his "father" would reward him with another beating, or even lecture him about how the third reich will be restored, something that Schrodinger would somewhat get tired of hearing, but he never would admit that, at least not out loud.

All the werecat wanted was to go outside. He wanted nothing more than to walk in a big city, a forest, or even a desert, for he wanted to explore the big wide world before him, possibly hoping he'd find his real family. But the "father" would always say no, saying that he would be killed, beaten, or worse if he went out, and that the bunker was his safe haven, where he could be happy.

Schrodinger used as much strength as he could to get himself off the floor of his room, desperate to lay onto his bloodied mattress which laid opposite him, facing the locked door which prevented him from leaving.

"Papa will be angry again if he sees me out of bed. I don't want to get in trouble again." The boy thought as he took a deep, sharp breath, his ribs hurting as he crawled back onto the bed.

Within a few minutes, he heard the door unlock, hoping that he'd avoid another severe beating. Two nazi soldiers walked in first before another man entered, a blonde, thin, and somewhat menacing looking doctor. The soldiers aimed their machine guns at the boy, ensuring that the boy wouldn't dare move a muscle.

"Ah Schrodinger. . . You've actually followed my orders, for that your reward will be a meal." Snapping his fingers as he spoke, the doctor moved aside, letting a cook bring in a tray with actual cooked food, nothing like the rotten shit he was usually given. All the boy did was nod, giving a small smile at his false parent.

"Now tomorrow we shall try another test, and we shall see if you capable of following every order I give you. Should the tasks at hand be completed, I may consider to give you a chance at slaughtering some innocents, which also means you'll go outside, but ONLY if you follow your orders!" The doctor said as he pushed his glasses back to his face, obscuring his cold, yellow eyes.

"Yes, Papa." Schrodinger answered in a monotone fashion, almost sounding robotic. The doc simply smiled, patting the boy's head before leaving with the two guards, and the cook, letting him eat his meal in peace.

The next test that followed in the morning was different compared to the others. Schrodinger was given orders to traverse an obstacle course, something that he managed without fail, using his remarkable agility that did not go unnoticed by the other first lieutenants. The next test involved something rather sickening, he was given a gun, and told to shoot at a group of dead bodies, which were strapped via wires just like puppets, which in turn was moved via machinery to see how he dealt with moving targets. During this task, the doctor smiled as he watched the bullets fly into the corpses, bones shattering, blood spilling, and wrote something down in his journal, his smile only growing more sadistic as he watched the boy fire the pistol rapidly, almost as if he had done this before. But the boy had a saddened expression as he kept shooting, contemplating if these were living breathing people, would he kill them?

Schrodinger himself felt really sick after heading back to his room, the sounds of gunfire still ringed in his sensitive ears. Knowing what came next, he rushed to the toilet seat, suddenly puking into it violently. After two more minutes, he finally stopped, his head pounding in a slow rythem as he moved towards his bed, resting his head on his clean pillow.

"Wait. . . Did Papa clean this room?" He thought as he looked around his now spotless room, the sickening smell of blood no longer violated his senses, prompting a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile in another room of the bunker, the Doctor was silently observing tapes of Schrodinger's actions. The smile that laid bare for all to see suddenly turned into a dissapointed scowl.

"The boy still hesitated. . . The little piece of shit has developed doubts in his head about his loyalty to Millennium. Not good, not good." The nazi ranted, biting into his gloved finger, his vampire teeth causing his finger to bleed slowly.

"I may have no choice but to eliminate it, a pity that he had to have a concious, and after all this time, he still asks to be let outside. . . Maybe it's time to put him down, and I know just the fellow to do it!" His frown soon shifted to a smirk, which only grew wider as he pushed the intercom button.

"Will Captain Hans please make his way to my office? I repeat, Captain Hans's presence is required in my office." He spoke in a happy manner, or rather, an evil one.

Hans heard the announcement whilst polishing his prized mauser pistol, grunting in annoyance at the german's obnoxious voice. Within a minute, he was already halfway to the Doctor's office, but suddenly stopped in his tracks, picking up the sound of feet shuffling, a bed creaking quietly. Curious about the noise coming from the cell, Hans took a peek inside the dimly lit room. Subject 13 was moving around in his sleep, calling out to someone.

"Mama. . . Papa. . ." The boy muttered in his sleep, almost sounding as if he was crying out for his parents. Hans could not help but feel sad for the child, but he also felt an extreme rage boiling up inside of him.

"Poor boy. . . After all these years, he only wants to go outside, and find his parents. But that sick Doc killed them, and now even I question my place in Millennium. . . They may have brought me in, but now I must decide, so do I rebel against the nazis? Or do I follow my orders like the good dog that I am?"

Contemplating what to do next, the Captain resumed walking to his superior's office. A small growl rumbled in his throat as he approached the office, wishing he could just kill the Doctor, set the boy free from his prison, and maybe just get out while he still can.

"There is still time to make a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter the consequences. The boy deserves a life."

The werewolf smirked at his new resolve, promising that he'd give Schrodinger his freedom, even if it meant getting himself killed in the process.

"Don't worry boy. . . You'll go outside, and you'll never be locked away ever again."

End of Prologue

Author's Note

In this modern Hellsing AU, you'll see the young Schrodinger leave Millennium, on his own little quest to find his place in the world where he would find a family that would accept for who he is. Hans will serve as a proper father figure, doing whatever it takes to get to boy away from the Doctor's clutches, and out of the nazi's grip.

The next chapter will delve deeper into the friendship that develops between the werecat and werewolf, as they find themselves considered traitors of Millennium. Will they both escape the nazis? Or will their chances of freedom be swept away in a heartbeat. Together we'll find out. Thank you for reading this fic, and I hope you enjoy this teaser for my next unique story.