A/N: Ok, this chapter's a little shorter than the first, but I plan to continue it in stride later. I was going to fuse it in with another part, but I didn't want halloween to pass without giving you guys something. I hope this was worth it. Happy Halloween, everyone!

II

Jake found himself sprawled onto a rocky floor, an expanse of black silence surrounding him. He was almost on his feet when he saw something move in the corner of his eye.

He turned, and there stood, in his usual smart-ass glory, Frank.

"You always were a lucky one, Jake," he said warmly.

"Frank...you're—" he stopped. Frank's face shrank back, pulling onto his skull, narrowing his eyes. His canines extended, and the next thing Jake knew he was staring down at him from some impossible height, its blaring red eyes glowering down at him.

"Maybe a little too much." Said the vampire in a slithering, yet hauntingly familiar voice. "It's a shame you don't share some of that luck with the people around you."

Jake was surrounded by all of his friends, all mauled, maimed, and staring straight at him, cutting him down with their a accusing faces. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's ok, Jake. I forgive you." Said a sweet voice.

He turned to see that he was being comforted by a girl with no head, and yet, impossibly, she spoke.

"Don't worry so much Jake. You'll be joining us soon, too."

Pain erupted in his gut. He fell to his knees and wanted desperately to vomit, but what would normally be spewing from his mouth was leaking through the holes in his stomach: a stew of blood, bile, and half-digested burgers drizzling onto the floor.

"See ya 'round, kid." said the vampire, staring down at him from a cylinder of light. He slammed the lid shut from were he was perched, locking him in the dark.

Jake shot up in his bed, panting. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he frantically pulled over his shirt. No wounds. His breathing calmed. He leaned back into the headboard and gave long sigh of relief.

Wait a minute, he thought, This isn't my room...

He was in what looked like a bedroom, but with no windows, and the walls were a dark, grey stone. It was fairly barren, aside from a simple wooden table in the center, with two chairs on either side, and was lit by an electric chandelier hanging on the ceiling above it. It was spacious, and yet felt strangely confined, probably because of the steel door fifteen feet from the foot of the bed.

It was nice room...sort of, but how the hell could he have gotten here? Obviously, what happened at that freaky club was a dream. Otherwise, he'd be in a hospital on life support, not in some strange dungeon that looked like it had been visited by the Fab Five.

Maybe he was still dreaming.

He pulled the covers off of himself, and saw that he was dressed in white pajamas. And he never wore pajamas to bed. He didn't even own pajamas.

Jake stood up and stumbled to the floor. His legs felt like wet noodles, his arms barely kept him upright. He blinked hard a few times, trying to squint the sudden blurriness away. His throat burned dryly as if he'd been in a desert for days.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Whispers seeped from the steel, vault-like door. Someone was here? Maybe he could finally get an explanation. It seemed to take hours before he finally pressed his ear to the door and heard what was being said.

"Anyways, I doubt she'll just let this slide. I'm surprised he even made it all the way to the bloody mansion, much less got his own room." Said a gruff man's voice.

"Well," began the other, clearly younger one. "We've got two already, why not one more?"

"You just don't get it, do you?" accosted the first. "If this keeps up, the next thing you know, we'll be obsolete."

"Come on, Murphy, I doubt Sir Hellsing would ever let it get that far."

"And that's exactly why this one's as good as gone. In fact, I got twenty pounds that says it'll be dead—for real this time—before sunrise."

"For God's sake, Murphy, this is someone's life we're talking about—"

"Jackson, you know damn well that thing in there isn't any more alive than Henri VIII. Do yourself a favor: unwrap yourself from all that sentimental crap and remember what we're bloody here for."

There was a long pause, but Jake had this strange sense that he could feel the anger burning quietly in "Jackson." He could almost smell the way his compatriot's insensitivity made his blood boil like tomato soup on a cold, wintry night. Jake rubbed at his neck, rocking back and forth nervously. His throat was burning again, and suddenly he found himself so damned hungry and thirsty he was ready to scream and pound at the door. Hunger pangs moved from his stomach to his veins, aching horribly for nourishment like dying vines; encircling and tightening over his body.

He heard the men straighten suddenly. Probably at attention, Jake reasoned. Suddenly, a presence, like a warm blanket, draped over him. He was sure someone was about to come in, but he knew he couldn't move anyway, and besides, if he did, this feeling—the only good one he'd had in recent memory—might fade. The sensation grew stronger, and Jake sat with his back to the door, wondering what, or who, it was coming from.

Seras walked anxiously down the dim basement hallway, Integra's words echoing through her with every step.

"Taking a civilian, who isn't even old enough to be in the Army, putting him in harm's way, and then, completely disregarding the consequences, siring him?I might have expected such flippant irresponsibility from Alucard, but you, Victoria? What the bloody Hell were you thinking?"

"Sir Hellsing, try to understand..."

"Understand what exactly? Your carelessness that led to his mortal injury, or your impulsiveness that led to turning him? It seems perfectly clear to me that he should have died then and there. Our task is to root out undead scum, not create more of them! You didn't even know if he was a virgin or not."

Seras was silent. The word "scum" wouldn't have hurt so much had Integra not stated the reasons why she already felt that way.

Integra's rage froze in an instant. "However, regardless of what should have happened, there is yet another bloodsucker in my home. If I regret sparing his unlife even for a moment, you will be held responsible. Do you understand?"

Seras came to the door where her new fledgling rested. The guards sidestepped, granting her access. Her hand lingered on the knob as questions swirled in her head. Would he hate her for dragging him into this? Would he be afraid of her? Would he even believe her?

She turned the knob yelped in surprised as her fledgling fell at her feet. The guards jumped and aimed their weapons. He looked up at her, glassy-eyed and weak.

"Where...am...I?"

A/N Well, I hope you enjoyed this little tidbit. Jake's got a whole lot more problems this time around, and being a bloodsucking creature of the night is only one of them. I hate to leave you hanging like this, but I plan to make it worthwhile. Now to finish that project I've put off for the last month before it's due in 9 hours.