A/N: This is going to be a series of *sort of* drabbles featuring an OC I created solely for roleplaying. I felt that I could become more accustomed to her character if I wrote about her.
Hellsing © Kouta Hirano
Parasite Eve © Square Enix
OCs © Myheartstillbleedsforyou
…
Within the confines of an isolation room furnished with only a simple cot wedged in the corner, a young girl dressed in a hospital gown sat at a small desk with a fountain pen poised in her hand. A journal with yellowed paper was set before her, blissfully blank and promising a fresh start to whatever her pen would come up with. The first page was illuminated by the light of a single candle that burned brightly in the room. The silence was deafening, for any writer it would have been the perfect place to get to work.
However the girl was hesitant. Her wide blue eyes blinked curiously at the open journal and her free hand rapped on the solid mahogany wood of the desk. Precious minutes ticked away as she simply gazed blankly upon the pages in a stupor. It was as though she wasn't sure where to begin.
Minutes ticked away, her hand scratched at her short legs which swung freely. She was much too small even for the tiny desk, and this fact alone was enough to distract her until she remembered the doctor would be coming by to check on her.
Her hand which clutched the fountain pen twitched nervously of its own accord, and then without realizing it she began to write:
Our name is Drei.
The hand paused while the girl sat mesmerized. Her handwriting was alien on the crisp page, a distraction from the yellow monotone.
What was next? Surely this wouldn't suffice for the doctor, who had asked her to at least write more than three sentences.
After some hesitation she began again, only now she really began to think of the assignment she was given. Eventually she began to get lost on a tangent, and this time the words flowed freely from her pen.
We were instructed to chronicle our thoughts and daily goings on within this, "journal" as the doctor called it. We are to give it to him at the end of every day for evaluation, supposedly our innermost thoughts are best expressed upon paper according to him. This is silly, if he really wished to become better acquainted with our mind it would be best to communicate directly with our body. Though we suspect he is not capable of this. Our cells have attempted many times to communicate with his and have only received silence in return.
This place is horrible. We hate it here. If today was to be our awakening it would have been proper to have taken place less unpleasant. This place is overrun with parasitic organisms that the doctor called "vampires". They are supposedly non-human organisms, but really they're still nothing more than mobile pieces of rotting flesh still dominated by a nucleus. Ergo, still very much human. Pity, considering how much potential slumbers within their bodies if only they were to awaken. How they manage to function still under nucleic domination is beyond us. Perhaps this is why we were awakened, to dispose of these creatures. Who can say?
Our awakening was most awkward as well… For what purpose would our cells be brought out of stasis and not those of our mother? Have these inferior organisms evolved to the point where her cells are no longer superior? Has the time come again for our genetic code to take over once more? Many years ago this was the mission given to our mother, the "First" as she was called. Now she still sleeps within her containment chamber. As the third of her line it is imperative we obtain her abilities by causing her awakening, we have attempted to call out to her only to receive silence.
Yes, we think that is the worst part of this place. There is no talk between bodies, only this dammed eternal silence.
Drei placed the pen down and reread her work, her mouth moving silently with the words as she read. For some reason, she found that writing within the journal was most enjoyable. It lay there with the same innocence as before but now seeing the scrawling of her own handwriting in black ink break up the pristine yellow made something almost visceral stir in her mind. There was a desire to write more, to make more words on the lovely yellow paper until it was all a mass of illegible ink. Yet before she could touch the pen to paper again she heard the click of a lock and the creak of her cell door as it opened slowly. A very tall, intimidating looking man in a bloodstained lab coat and glasses approached slowly.
"Liebe," he asked, his roughly accented voice was gentle as though he was addressing a child, "Haff you finished your writing for me?"
Drei started at the sound of his voice, but she obediently capped the pen and offered the journal to the doctor. His fingers grazed her own ever so slightly as he took the book, and Drei pulled back violently.
"We thought we were clear before, Herr Doktor." She said in German, despite her youthful looks her voice did not carry the tiny lilting notes of a child's voice, instead her vocal chords issued a deadly robotic monotone.
"You are not to touch our vessel unless you have sterilized yourself prior to doing so. Do you wish for us to be contaminated with inferior germs?"
She hissed this last part, wiping her hands on the desk as though the doctor had already infected her.
"Apologies my dear." The doctor's voice was etched with concern, though his eyebrow contorted into a slightly annoyed frown, "I am afraid my hand slipped, I vill be more careful next time."
"See to it that you are." Came Drei's cold reply, "That reminds us, we want something to cover this vessel at all times. Something befitting of our status that will not allow common filth to touch us. This garment will not suit our tastes nor will it be adequate protection from the cold. We are being forced to produce more heat than usual to keep this vessel alive."
"Ah of course, you were very feverish this evening." He muttered this to himself while opening the journal to the first page, beginning to read without really regarding the small life form who sat politely in her chair.
"Do not worry, warm clothes will be given to you in the morning after I have evaluated your writing." He said, and without so much as goodbye the tall doctor exited the room. He nearly forgot to lock the door until Drei cleared her throat and startled him out of his thoughts.
"Ah! Forgive me, we can't haff zose damned vampires trying to get in now can we?"
"One more thing before you leave, Herr Doktor. Why are we here?"
Drei's question made the doctor look down at her rather curiously. His eyes followed her every move as Drei stood and made her way to the small cot where she perched at the edge, swinging her legs which still did not quite reach the floor though the cot was very low to the ground.
"Your predecessors made it clear that superior organisms were no longer desired after our mother was comatose." The tiny girl said, eyes of ice blue boring into the doctor's without blinking, "Are we to expect that you wish for us to complete the mission she was given fifty years ago? This body is still young, it has not matured properly for breeding."
"Zere will be no need for zat," he replied curtly, "Your purpose is completely different from ze original intentions meant for your mozzer. You were ze third in ze line of purebred Aryans, "Drei", intended to cause destruction zat cannot be replicated by any mere mortal. You are not meant to produce offspring, nor did we leave any room in your genetic code to be able to do so."
If Drei had been unsettled by this purpose she was given, she showed no sign of it. Instead, she merely swung her legs up onto the bed and got under the covers. She did not blink nor did she show any indication she had even really taken into account what the doctor had just told her. Her eyes simply sparkled with an almost unsettling brightness from the candlelight that flickered in the dark room.
"Gute Nacht." The doctor murmured, then stepped into the room once more to blow out the candle. With that, the doctor left the room cloaked in darkness and locked the door deftly before turning to leave. Drei was left alone to lay there in the dark, listening to the doctor's footsteps echo down the metallic corridor.
Drei lay there motionless on the cot with her head resting on the cot's thin pillow. Her hands reached blindly in the dark, groping for the edge of the thin sheets to bring them up to her chin.
She was not meant to reproduce? And that doctor had actually altered her genetic code to prevent her from doing so?
Vaguely, she wished she could have added one more question to the first page of the journal.
Just what is this war, and how could it be more important than reproduction?
