Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Hellsing or any of its characters.

Note: I've seen a couple of different spellings for the name "Seras", and I decided to use the spelling that's in the manga I have.

Rated for safety due to the blood (it is a story about a vampire, after all).

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Ambivalence

Seras Victoria walked down the street, glumly regarding the people who bustled, shuffled, or strode around her. It was just after sunset, and she had woken up only a few minutes ago.

It had been two weeks since she had become a vampire, and Seras was still getting used to being awake all night and sleeping all day. She knew that Alucard could function during daylight hours, and she had sometimes tried to stay awake until dawn. Inevitably, however, an overwhelming fatigue took hold of her before the first rays of the sun peeked over the eastern horizon, and she was forced to sleep.

At the corner of the street she was walking along, there was a church. Seras stopped in front of it and looked up at the cross that sat atop the spire. A twinge of pain went through her head, like the beginning of a migraine, and she looked away. As a child, the cool, dim interior of a church had always been a refuge when she was feeling troubled. After the death of her beloved father, the assurance that he was in Heaven with God and the angels had comforted her somewhat. She had drawn solace from the Church. But no longer. Alucard might be strong enough to cross the threshold of a holy place, but she was not. That source of consolation was forever closed to her now.

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Seras turned the corner, noticing the pretty patterns that the light coming through the stained-glass windows cast on the sidewalk. Behind the church was a small building with the words "Community Center" carved in stone over the door. A sign on the grass in front of the building proclaimed, "Support Group for Recovering Alcholics, Tonight 6:30-8:30PM". The night was warm, and the front door of the center was propped open a bit. Seras could hear a voice coming from inside.

"I know I shouldn't, but I just can't help myself. The smell of it, the taste, even the burning sensation as it goes down my throat…it's just irresistible. It makes me feel rejuvenated, and for that brief moment when I'm swallowing, all my problems go away."

A faint scent wafted out onto the street from inside the center. It was thick, and rich, and slightly metallic. Seras recognized it immediately, and shuddered. Quickly, she rushed on down the street.

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Seras was walking aimlessly, without any particular destination in mind. Gradually, she realized that she had wandered into a bad section of the city. She remembered patrolling this area, back when she had been a policewoman. There had always been a lot of crime here—robbery, assault, rape, murder—pretty much everything. Suddenly, she heard a sharp crack, like a car backfiring. This was followed by a scream of pain.

Acting on a policewoman's instinct, Seras ran towards the sound, her hand reaching for the pistol that was strapped to her hip. It was just an ordinary handgun—obviously she couldn't go carrying Harkonnen through the streets of London. Her enhanced hearing told her the exact direction and distance to the location where the gunshot had occurred. When she reached that place—a dark alley—her supernatural vision allowed her to see the young man sprawled behind a dumpster. The scent that she had noticed outside the Community Center was present here, but much stronger and fresher.

Cautiously, Seras stepped around the dumpster. A young man with dirty blond hair was laying on his back, hands clasped over a gruesome wound in his abdomen. His breath was coming in gasps, and tears streamed down his cheeks. He had a tattoo on one bicep that Seras recognized as a gang symbol.

Seras quickly pulled out a cell phone and called the police to report the shooting. Then she knelt down beside the man. The wound in his stomach was very bad. His face was pale and blood was pooling beneath him. As a policewoman, she had seen her share of gunshot victims, and she knew that this man was bleeding to death.

Although the evening was warm, Seras was wearing a denim jacket over her t-shirt. She stripped off the jacket, rolled it up into a ball, and pressed it to the wound. She applied pressure, and saw that the bleeding was beginning to slow. It had mostly stopped by the time the ambulance arrived. While the EMTs were busy tending to the victim, she quietly slipped away.

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On a quiet side street not far from the alley, Seras noticed that the scent of blood had not disappeared. This puzzled her, because there was no one else on the street—where could it be coming from? Then she looked down at her hands, and saw that they were sticky and red. The young man had been bleeding so profusely that his blood had soaked through her jacket and drenched her hands. The smell filled her nostrils, and she breathed in deeply, as though she were smelling brewing coffee or exquisite perfume. The blood on her hands was a bright crimson, and it seemed to shimmer in the dim illumination of the streetlights.

"The smell of it, the taste, even the burning sensation as it goes down my throat…it's irresistible."

Seras shook her head and tried to clear the smell from her nose. She was a policewoman. Her duty was to protect the residents of her city. To consume blood that had been shed in violence, that had come from an injury to one of the people she was supposed to protect, would be inexcusable. But…that scent, rich and full. That beautiful scarlet color. The wet gleam of it on her hands. Slowly, Seras lifted one finger to her lips.

"I know I shouldn't, but I can't help myself."

She would have to get this blood off her hands somehow. She couldn't very well wander the streets with blood-covered hands. Someone would get suspicious, would think she had hurt someone. But for those same reasons, she couldn't go into a restaurant or shop, hold up her hands, and ask to use the restroom. There was only one way to get the stuff off her hands, really. That's all there was to it.

Seras slid the index finger of her right hand into her mouth and sucked on it, licking the blood off. It tasted as wonderful as it smelled, rich and smooth, like good chocolate. For a few seconds, the melancholy and loss that had plagued her since Alucard had transformed her disappeared. There was no concern with whether it was right or wrong, no sadness at the thought of never seeing the sun again, no fear at the changes that were taking over her body. There was only the taste.

"For that brief moment when I'm swallowing, all my problems go away."

In the back of her mind, Seras could hear her master laughing.

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A/N: I've taken a break from Naruto stories to write this Hellsing fic that popped into my head. This is my first Hellsing story, so reviews would be much appreciated!