xx

"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety. Other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies. . . ."

x

"Fuck! Incoming!"

The roar of gunfire sliced through the air. Dirt exploded in a violent spray around the foxhole and the whine from a heavy artillery shell blasted the ground and Pip dove down into sweet damp earth and covered his head, clutching his rifle to his side. He hoped fucking reinforcements would show their asses before the rebels blasted the Wild Geese into oblivion. The thick tropical heat clogged his lungs along with the acrid stench of smoke. Blood trickled down the side of his face.

"Merde!" He reloaded his AK-74 and fired with one hand over the packed earth. "Motherfuckers!" His aim had been accurate and a bullet caught an enemy shoulder in the face. A pained, confused expression crossed the man's face, flickers of dying thoughts behind his dark eyes. Blood and grey matter sprayed the enemy barricade wall in violent shower of flesh and bone, before the rebels retaliated with a flurry of gunfire. Wails pierced the air from both sides; a grenade blew off the arm of a retreating Goose soldier and across the field a man let out a stream of curses in his chittering tongue. The rebels screamed war cries like dying savages and Pip fired his remaining shells into the brush. Torn innards squelched and men cried out to their impassive foreign God as blood splashed the green fans of tropic ferns.

Rick, his lieutenant heaved himself around the corner, firing shots at the enemy with blasts from his Norinco rifle as he crouched beside his Captain. "We're getting fucked aren't we?"

Liquid seeped into his one good eye turning his field of vision a soupy red. Pip reloaded his weapon. "We're not going to die today." Fuck he hated Uganda. So much brush and thick humidity and stubborn enemies. Pip fired. A rebel died with his mouth wide open and blood and vomit spewed from his lips, before he crashed face down on the grassy earth, gun still clutched in hand. Another barrage of gunfire split his head open like a melon as the bullets jerked and twitched his body and reduced him to mush. Good riddance, Pip thought. These bastards had kept the Geese cornered in a pocket of rainforest for twelve hours. Fuck he wanted a cigarette.

"Captain!"

Pip aimed the nose of his rifle at the top of the foxhole, about to put some fuckers down for the long sleep. He didn't want to yell over the roar of gunfire. "Goddammit what?!"

Clouds crossed over the sky and the sun died behind a dark haze. The African heatwave cooled several degrees and a breeze carried the sweet and revolting stench of rot and gunpowder. Chills pricked the back of his neck and his arms broke out in gooseflesh. What the fuck? Even behind his rifle fear snagged his heart and filled it with ice, a wave of cold terror that froze even his bones.

The gunfire morphed into heavier fire, the rat-tat-tat of submachine guns, as if the rebels had traded their cheap AK-47's for MP40s; WWII era army issued weapons.

Kill. Kill. Kill. KILL. KILL. K I L L

The mantra echoed within his brain, yet real enough and loud enough that his Rick heard it too and Pip and the other soldier stared at each other in confusion and fear. The voice had been forced inside his thoughts, as if his mind had been invaded and raped. His lieutenant's eyes were wide as he clutched his rifle to his chest, like a child with a favorite doll. "W-what…you hear that?"

More of the Wild Geese paused and glanced around them, some poking their heads from behind trees and fauna, guns shivering in their hands. "Captain what the fuck is that?"

"Get down!" He barked. "Idiots!"

A barrage of fire whistled through the air and laughter creeped across the no man's land in between. Pip surveyed the field. His heart dropped into his stomach and it felt like he was falling, even though his limbs held him paralyzed in place. The bodies of the dead laying forgotten in the tall grass shambled to their feet, eyes hazy, mouths open in empty expressions of hunger. One of the dead rebels stumbled towards the mercenaries, movements rigid and mechanical like a broken wind up toy; it lumbered forward without its head, a twisted stump of a neck over its shoulders, a crimson cascade of blood down its chest. The rebel Pip had gunned down moaned in rage and agony as it tried to rise up on its forearms, but the rest of its torso had been reduced to a jumble of torn flesh and it only screamed an animal sound in the bloody thicket.

The living rebels had switched their brown camo for black and silver uniforms. Pip saw the reflective flash of army medallions. The enemy's eyes shimmered red in the grey, hazy light, hundreds and hundreds of floating crimson eyes. There had only been a squadron of rebels, not a whole fucking army. Laughter floated across the field and bored into Pip's brain and the hollow voices echoed and knocked around his skull like the bullet of a .22 bouncing through a body and tearing flesh. He clutched his aching head. Mon Dieu…

At the sight of the walking corpses the Wild Geese lost their shit. They screamed in terror and mowed down the animated dead, heads exploded but the legs still moved, bodies danced under the bite of the bullets but the laughter continued, almost as loud as the screaming weapons. His lieutenant bellowed a stream of curses beside him. "Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck?!"

Pip felt his command over the Geese spiral out of control. A terrified unit was a dead unit, but Pip didn't know what to tell them. "Keep firing!" He shouted. He emptied a round into an eyeless, armless corpse. The tone of his men's screams quickly turned into almost feminine squeals as the dead and living enemy closed in on them.

As more of the rebels shambled out from the brush Pip realized something had turned horribly wrong. The enemy wore World War II era black uniforms, just like the old black and white photos his grandfather had showed him from his fighting days in Germany. Swastikas glimmered like bent stars on their hats and shoulders. Nazis. They were fighting goddamn fucking krauts.

They tramped across the field with lightning speed, guns in hand, unaffected by the whizz of the mercenary bullets around their heads, almost joyous in their un natural flight across the no man's land. As with the ghouls, the Geese's bullets hit home but the fuckers still moved, laughing, unharmed, bloody and menacing in their dark uniforms.

One of the Geese screamed in horror as a man propelled himself over his rifle and dove at his chest, tearing his throat open in one fell swoop. Blood burst from his jugular like water in a torn hose. No, not a man at all.

Everywhere his men screeched, a chorus of horror as the new enemy ate them alive, swarmed them and bit chunks from arms and faces and throats. Pip himself finally screamed as terror crushed him. "Fuck you!" Red eyes, red blood, red fear. He wiped the blood from one eye. Monsters, fucking monsters!

A Nazi charged him and Pip saw a flash of jagged, shark like teeth in the man's gaping maw before pain fired through his body and his vision turned black.

xxx

Pip bolted upright in bed, breathing heavy, sheets pooling around his waist. Only a dim room greeted him. A wisp of afternoon light shone from one dusty covered window. His heart hammered like a trapped animal in his chest and he clutched his throat, running a hand across his bare torso, half expecting blood. Jesus. He had some nasty nightmares sometimes but not normally on that level, and never with vampires. He guessed seeing that colonel torn apart by a group of Millennium freaks on that screen, back in London, really fucked with his subconscious. He recalled the wet noises of their mouths eating the bastard alive like a pack of rabid wolves, remembered the screams of agony and that little Hitler youth boy's cackling laughter. He shivered, a chill that ran all the way down his back and legs.

Someone snored next to him. The mercenary studied the little figure of the sleeping draculina; she wore her blue cotton night clothes(Pip had asked for her to sleep in negligee but that idea had been quickly shot down by a blushing, irritated Seras). She slept on her side facing him, hands curled beneath her chin. A calm settled over Pip's racing heart. She had started sharing a bed with him some days, when her strength had increased enough to where her own coffin wasn't needed, and when she 'got sick of her nightmares.' He never groped her in bed, and so she must have trusted him. When her face twisted in pain during her slumber, Pip would wrap his arms around her waist and hold her until her breathing evened out and her face rested in peace. He swiped stray strands of platinum blond hair from her forehead. God, she was beautiful.

Too beautiful to be sharing a bed with a dog like him.

Her soft presence quieted his own demons, so it was a mutually beneficial relationship. Merde, how he wanted sex to be involved; a carnal dance with his mignonette, he felt that need down in the very veins of his cock, but he had to keep his hands to himself, at least in the bedroom, lest he chase her off, and damn, he needed her gentle contact more and more these days.

Especially when his reality had been suddenly turned into a real life horror show. He only hoped that dream hadn't been some kind of ill omen.

"Captain…" she muttered, rubbing her eyes. Those big baby blues opened and regarded him sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing ma cher," he fingered the tips of her hair. "Go back to sleep."

She closed her eyes and smiled, and he fought the urge to tug her into his arms and bury his face in her sweet smelling hair. He leaned down and let himself plant a soft kiss on her cheek and she blushed but didn't flinch or pull away. Pip grinned and whispered into her ear, "Tes yeux, j'en rêve jour et nuit. Tu es l'amour de ma vie Mignonette." She smiled dreamily, the words sounded like sweet nonsense to her, and she drifted back into slumber.

xxx

Darkness held the practice field in a dim shroud. The last light had drifted beneath the indigo sky and the forest around the mansion transformed into the shape of one solid black silhouette. The targets hovered several meters across the open meadow, at the edge of the wood like dim ghosts.

Pip fired his Colt Single Action Army revolver and the shot rang out in the still air, scaring a flock of birds that went screeching into the night(or bats, who knew?). The bullet hit the cardboard terrorist straight in the head.

"Nice one Captain!" Seras nodded, standing off to the left beside him. A few of the Geese hovered around the firing range, looking sleepy. They hadn't quite adjusted to their nocturnal schedule and spent most of their daylight time drinking and whoring, instead of in bed during the afternoon like their Captain. Pip felt like a vampire himself most days.

He grinned and offered Seras the butt of the gun. "It's an antique, want to try?"

Her face lit up and she nodded. "Sure!"

She looked adorable to him, an English Barbie doll with a WWI era gun. She held the weapon naturally, and it actually looked right in her hands, unlike the oversized heavy artillery canons she typically shot and which blew Pip's mind. She held the gun at eye level and fired.

The shot blasted off the head of the second fake terrorist, no surprise considering her vampiric super vision. "Ah ma petite good job!" He slapped a hand over her shoulder.

Mirth twinkled in her eyes but she shook her head. "'Name's Seras, Captain." She studied the pistol for a moment before handing it back to him. "That's a neat gun."

He slid the Colt back in the holster at his hip. "Pip Bernadotte's my name, miss Victoria."

She lightly shoved him but her 'light shove' almost knocked him off his feet and he stumbled sideways before he caught himself. "Watch it!" He laughed. "Bully!"

She held up her hands and smiled, one fang poking into her bottom lip. "Sorry."

After an hour or so of field practice, a handful of bored mercenaries hovered around the pair and watched Seras fire her formidable assault rifle in a series of pulsing blasts. After months of training together, the sweet disposition of the little vampire had eased the Geese's fear of her and they gawked at her power, some staring lower at the seductive swell of her ass. Pip himself wanted to get between her thighs so he couldn't blame them, but he still squared his shoulders and fought back a pinch of irritation.

"Damn girly!"

"Headshots!"

"Amazing!"

The Captain knew his men were as amused over Seras's strength as he was. She spun on her heel and grinned with a thumbs up.

Later, on the trek back to the mansion the Captain heard Joe, one of his least favorite soldiers(Joe was reliable in the field but possessed a big mouth and lacked a few crayons in his box), say some perverse drivel about the Police Girl. "What a woman eh Tom?" He muttered the statement but then he laughed, a harsh sound like a braying ass. "Those tits! Got the body of a whore if I ever saw one."

The muscles in Pip's jaw muscles clenched. Alright fucker, shut up. Seras trekked a few feet behind them toting her weapon and he didn't know how much she picked up with her advanced hearing and the idiot was being none too quiet.

Bill and Tom laughed uneasily. Tom snuck furtive glances toward his Captain and Bill shook his head at his friend, eyes uneasy. Pip didn't know if they felt nervous because the vampire could hear him or due to the deadly quiet expression on their Captain's face.

"Too bad she's a dumb vampire slut!"

Pip shouldered his way through the cluster of mercenaries and Joe's eyes widened as the merc grabbed fistfuls of the shorter man's collar. He jerked him off his feet. "Shut the fuck up! Or me 'an you are gonna have it out right here on the lawn ass'ole!"

The Geese tripped over each other to get out of the way, then some continued on their way to the mansion. Still a handful circled the two, some laughing, some stern faced, as the older men shook their head at Joe's insulting nonsense, Seras had been nothing but kind to a flock of deadbeat killers from the bottom of the barrel. Besides the girl had been staying in the Captain's room and Joe should have known to keep his mouth shut.

Joe winced, surprised. He grabbed the fist holding him off his toes. "Alright Captain fuck! Just a woman!"

Seras caught up with them. The Geese stepped aside.

Pip dropped the man. Joe stepped fell back, eyes wary. "Shut up," the merc said. He didn't want Seras to hear that bullshit. The men hit on her sure but she wasn't stupid, he recognized the keen intelligence being her eyes, and she didn't deserve for her vampirism to be used against her either. Joe didn't know the half of it. She already didn't trust men as it was.

The Captain strode off, and the other men kept a distance behind him, Seras trailing behind, a perplexed expression across her face.

xxx

Water trickled down his chest and back as he splashed his face in the shower, the outdated tile as white as a sterile hospital room, the isolated bathroom silent aside from the rhythm of the shower. Pip shivered. The water felt unpleasant, ice on his skin, but the Hellsing mansion itself gave him the creeps. Bad shit had happened in this burgois place, a heavy feeling seeped from the old walls as if each brick had come from desecrated ground. Or it could just be Alucard. That bastard haunting this place was tremendously worse than any ghost.

His wet braid dangled across his back. He rubbed his eyes, free of his eyepatch, and he prodded the left empty lid. Six years since he had lost half his sight. Fuck, he felt like he was getting old; not two hours ago he couldn't even keep it up for that whore, some cockney prostitute with honey blond hair and large breasts, but he had felt only numb and deflated in her hands. Her brown eyes had been dim. Beautiful, nice, with sad voice and a burnt out flame, like so many other working girls and Pip couldn't even bring himself to care.

The doll face of the Police Girl had haunted his mind. He had wanted to picture that sweet smile on the woman's wrinkled mouth. He wanted her to blush at his advances, his foul words, but the poor whore was nothing like the draculina. It had been a farce. He had paid her and turned her away.

Now his skin ached for the touch of a woman, but he wanted her to drag petite hands up his legs, dig her nails into his thighs, feel the sting of a bite from that sweet cupid's bow mouth, the girl so much like a Botticelli angel from hell. He wanted to hold her trusting face in his hands and teach her that not every man's touch had to be a crushing blow that knocked her off her feet, as so often life had dealt her a bad card. She deserved to know tenderness.

He hoped the cold shower would ease his suffering, but fuck he had a bigger problem than his sex drive, he realized with a start. He was falling dangerously in love with Seras Victoria.

xxx

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AN: Yeah I don't know that much about guns and warfare lol I like war movies but...so I doubt the mercenary scene is very good but I tried. Thank God for the movie and comics internet database of weapons lol. Thanks for reading! Write those fics! Please!

*Tu es l'amour de ma vie = You're the love of my life.

*Tes yeux, j'en rêve jour et nuit = I dream about your eyes day and night.

1st edit.