Hello everyone!
May I just say a huge thank you to everyone, I did not expect that many reviews with so much support for a taster chapter. I've been nervous writing this chapter as I have doubts that it's not up to the same standard that you guys are expecting and that I worry that I've made the characters OOC. Please inform me if I have so I can rectify the problem, I want to make this story as enjoyable for you as possible.
To those who asked, yes there will be romance between Alucard and Seras :) I love the pairing and I hope I can fully deliver to your expectations.
Again, a massive thank you to everyone who reviewed they made me smile and brightened my day. Also a massive thank you to those who added this to their favourites list and followed, I hope to update this story on a regular basis for you guys :) xxxxx
Chapter I: Rooms by the Hour.
Lips caught between teeth. Roaming hands groping at those sensitive body parts. It made Seras sick. She watched from the shadows, gazing up the corridor as the couple involved themselves in light foreplay before retreating into their hotel room rented by the hour. Now all she had to do was wait. Sighing, she crossed her arms and rested her back against the peeling wall.
Seras had been a vampire for roughly a year now. She knew all the tricks of the trade and more. For the first month or so of her new Nosferatu life she had been reckless, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. Though, through trial and error she learned that biting virgins created vampires, which was a task in itself to clean up, and biting those who weren't pure created mindless zombies that were much easier to kill. That was when Seras made the decision to bite and drain those she was sure were not virgins, then destroy the bodies before her victims could turn. She haunted the shady hotel areas of London and decapitated her victims after draining them. She owed them that much.
Moans of ecstasy could be heard, soon followed by the faint squeak of springs from a worn mattress. If her victims were virgins before, they weren't now. This was the part she hated, listening to her victims make love whilst they were blissfully unaware of their imminent demise. She'd earned herself quite the reputation with the way she took care of the dead, addressed as 'The Headsman' amongst the media. The number of those who frequented the sorts of hotels which didn't ask questions as long as you paid upfront, had dwindled. They feared the prospect of being added to the long list of souls who had been unfortunate enough to encounter the mass murderer.
The moans became louder and the girl's lips pulled down into a frown of distaste. She was a child in both mind and heart still, the very idea of intercourse made her skin crawl. Shelly, another filing clerk at the station from Seras' human life, had blamed such thoughts on Seras never finding the right man. Seras agreed with her, but the man she had in mind she would most likely never come across. He existed exclusively in cliché fiction. Tall, dark and handsome was always a requirement; but Seras needed someone sweet with a sense of humour. She wanted someone passionate and protective. No man she had met possessed all those qualities.
Seras was pulled from her musings when she heard her quarries finish their excursions. She guessed the couple must be having an affair with one another when she could not hear the exchange of money, instead only hearing the shower spurt water. They were both vulnerable now; it was her time to strike. Using her inhuman speed she ran towards the door and broke the lock. The man located on the bed had hardly any time to react before Seras sunk her fangs into his neck. It was a messy affair. The blood spurted anywhere but her mouth. It was like a geiser, shooting up and spraying patterns on the walls and ceiling. Seras could feel it mat in her hair, along with the dried blood from months pervious. Normally her movements would be more precise and careful, but she was just so hungry. It must have been at least a week or so since her last feed. Whatever liquid she did collect in her mouth, she gulped down eagerly. It was like a fine wine, although slightly bitter by the subtle hint of fear she could taste. The man beneath her twitched as he took his last breath, the shock and fear permanently etched onto his face. Seras pulled back before the blood began to taste like sour milk. Blood from a dead body, whilst not harmful, made one's stomach churn violently. The vampire scoffed in distaste, his blood was splattered everywhere and it soaked up into the bed sheets. She was clumsy, starting to leave a trail again, but no matter. There was no time to dwell.
Seras jumped up and broke the bathroom door off the hinges. The vampire heard the woman give a shrill of terror as she pulled back the shower curtain. Seras unhinged her jaw and lunged for the jugular to stop the screaming. Surprisingly, she was able to swallow more blood this time. Whatever escaped her mouth ran down the pug hole. The Nosferatu could feel the hot water running down her cheeks as she set the dead body aside, and she just sat there not a care in the world. How long had it been since she was this warm? Combined with the fresh blood and the near scalding water, it was almost as if she were at that healthy 37 degrees again. Turning her gaze to the dead woman, she knew she had task to complete if she did not want them to suffer any longer.
Placing the woman's head in her lap, Seras dug her sharp talons into the bite marks she hand inflicted. Her fingernails sliced through the muscle with ease, she slid all four fingers on each hand into the neck all the way down to the knuckle, keeping her thumbs on the outside for extra support. Using all her strength, she pulled her hands away from each other. The sounds of wet tearing flesh assaulted her ears. She could feel the muscle and cartilage pull apart in little strings, it caught under her fingernails to add to the dirt already there. The rotten blood gushed and spurted from the increasing wound, droplets landing on Seras' face. At last the sound of a bone breaking resonated through out the area. It was immensely satisfying to the beast that had been growing inside Seras. She threw the head to the other side of the bath and quickly ran into the bedroom to finish the male off when she heard the familiar sounds of groaning.
She was exhausted be the time she returned to her abode. No longer being able to live in her flat, Seras was forced to relocate to the abandoned Victorian sewage system beneath London. She had to pick her tunnel carefully, but she found one no longer in service under a ghost street located on the outskirts of the old city. It was dark, but her eyes picked out every source of light from the cracks in the bricks to the shine through the grates. The water next to her feet was stagnant and offended the nose, but she had grown accustomed. She could hear the rats, squeaking and running away from her imposing figure. Once she came to her 'spot', she took her nail and added two lines to the wall. It was a ritual, one line for every victim. This was how she mourned. This was her way of saying sorry. From her peripheral vision, most of the bricks were decorated with these lines. The sight of it made Seras shed a red tear. This was also a regular occurrence. She didn't ask to be this monster. She didn't ask to kill people so that she may live. Hell, when she regained her senses she tried to starve herself to death, but the beast wouldn't let her. The beast wrapped its long fingers around her stomach and squeezed until the pain became unbearable.
She wiped the tear away with the back of her hand and opened the crate she used as a 'coffin'. She figured out this was a necessity after many sleepless nights. It was not large. She had to curl up into the fetal position if she wanted to fit in it. The smell of rotten potatoes assaulted her nose every time she opened the crate and she had woken up with more splinters than she could count every morning. She closed the lid and fell into slumber. She dreamed about her old life where she was safe and warm in her bed. Where her only worry was getting to work on time after she ignored her alarm clock. A bitter smile accompanied another tear.
Sir Integra was focused on the pictures of the latest case. Her intelligence officers arrived at the scene just an hour after the vampire left and faxed her the evidence, "How terrible." She said. Walter, her ever faithful butler, was by her side examining the photographs also.
"Indeed. That's the third one this month."
"Do we know anything new about the vampire?"
"No Sir Integra, the usual patterns have remained the same. Have done for some time now." They had been monitoring 'The Headsman' for over four months now, and had still not managed to even locate the infernal creature. Sir Integra threw down the photos and lit a cigar. This vampire was really starting to grate on her nerves. She was just thankful the bastard thing was not trying to raise up an army of ghouls.
"You seem tense, my master." The room was bathed in shadows before a red fedora emerged from the floor, revealing a body as it rose up into the air. Alucard had been eavesdropping again. Integra sighed, she really did not want to call Alucard in for this case. She believed that the soldiers should have a challenge, but it was obviously proving too much for them. They would be reprimanded for their incompetence. The distinguished Hellsing family could not afford to be incompetent; not with the Iscariot organisation observing their every move. Her cobalt eyes observed as her servant began to flick through the photographs, his manic grin widened with each image of the gory scene, "It's getting sloppy." The woman narrowed her eyes, blowing a thick plume of smoke that swirled in the air. She gestured for Walter to open a window.
"How can you tell?"
"There's more blood on the walls than in the stomach of the vampire by the looks of this. 'The Headsman' was in a hurry, not thinking clearly."
"You would know." A deep cuckle sent vibrations through the entire room, but Sir Integra refused to let her shivers show. Sighing, she crushed the cigar in the ashtray before steepling her hands under her chin, "Alucard, you have but one day to locate the vampire. If it's not found by tomorrow evening then Hellsing is in serious trouble. I can practically hear the Vatican mocking our failure. You know what will happen if we fail Alucard." She slammed her fist onto the desk as she rose from the chair, "Search and destory! Do not return to the estate until you kill the blasted thing!" Alucard's laugh echoed around the room as his form disintegrated into a thick red rog. Sir Integra could handly see a hand in front of her face. Her servant loved to be dramatic.
"Yes my master." With that, the fog was carried out the window by the chilling breeze. The shadows fleeted, and Sir Integra was left panting in anger as Walter left to prapare some herbal tea. His master was quite irritable when stressed and he liked his sleep.
Alucard arrived at the 'Swan Inn', the home of the latest crime committed by the 'Headsman'. The Nosferatu's lips pulled into a wide grin as he saw Scotland Yard swarming the place. They would never be able to track down the murderer, but it did give Alucard entertainment to see them try and fail miserably. Whilst he held a deep respect for humans, he could not help but laugh at their flaws. Leaning against a rain slicked wall, the vampire waited until the forensic team left and the hotel was closed up for the night. The oppertune moment had arrived.
It was easy getting past the guards, he simply suggested that they give into the temptations of sleep. He opened the door to the crime scene. The sight of glorious blood shed greeted his eyes. A head was located at the other side of the room, glazed eyes staring longingly at the body it used to accompany. Blood was in every corner and crevice of the room. Alucard gave a deep chuckle, he had not been this entertained in years. Removing his yellow-tinted glasses his eyes focused on the bed. There was a fine strand of short yellow hair located on the chest of the male victim. The No-Life King made his way over and delicately plucked the strand from its resting place. The vampire gave a grimance for he really despised what he was about to do. He brought the strand to his nose and inhaled deepy. A mixture of interesting scents infiltrated his sense of smell. He could distinguish months old blood; human waste; and something feminine. It was the faint aroma of floral perfume, quickly being overridden by all the other scents that clung to the vampire wherever it visited. So, the 'Headsman' was a female. All he had to do was trail the scent and he could find the woman by the first light of dawn. He was sure that her scent would be all over London, but all vampires had a dwelling. He would simply search for the area where her scent was strongest. The hunt had begun.
It had not taken long to find the home of the 'Headsman'. Alucard stood at the mouth of an abandoned Cul-De-Sac. The terraced houses were missing the tiles from the roofs and the windows gaped with jaged teeth, the glass smashed by young hooligans who found amusement in disturbing the rotting buildings. Alucard followed the scent to a grate in the middle of the worn road. So she was hiding in the sewers like a rat. His nose scrunched up in disgust. The vampire concentrated, he could feel his blood bubbling and his nerves tingling as his body changed to mist and seeped through the grate to form again in the sewer. He could sense her futher up the tunnel, and through the dim lighting he could see an old wooden crate. He could hear fainting snooring, perfect. He could kill the vampire with minimal effort and be back before sunrise. He stalked along the tunnel, taking caution to not step in the water and alert it to his presence. He deduced that the vampire was relatively new to life, not even being able to sense another vampire in the vacinity. Now that he thought about it, there was something familiar about it's aura that Alucard had encountered before. As he approached the makeshift coffin something caught his interest. On the walls were little lines, hundereds of them. Two looked fresh, the dust not having fallen off the newly gouged imperfect lines. He had seen this before. Some vampires liked to keep count of their victims. Smirking he turned to the crate and pulled out his gun. A quick shot to the heart and the reign of the 'Headsman' was over. Reaching down Alucard tore the lid off the crate and threw it down the tunnel, exposing one of the most pitiful and least expected sights he had ever come across.
There, curled up in the fetal position with tired and terrified eyes blinking up at him, was a girl who was frozen at the tender age of 19 and acted even younger. She was filthy, covered from head to toe in blood and God only knows what else and clad in a torn police uniform. She was paralysed with fear and incoherent words tumbled from her quivering lips. She was a girl. He had been ordered to kill a mere girl. He observed as she stared down the barrel of his gun. His finger was poised on the trigger. One shot and he could put the little police girl out of her misery. Yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sighing in irritation he placed the gun back into his coat and knelt to bring himself to eye level with her, being cautious to keep up his guard in case she was just a terribly good actress, "I'm not going to hurt you." His voice echoed off the tunnel walls, "Would you care to give me your name?" She remained silent for a long while. Alucard ran a gloved hand over his face, "It looks like I'll just have to call you 'Police Girl' then, but I suppose it is still an improvement from the 'Headsman' is it not?" He recieved a nod. His hearing was able to pick up her heart beating violently against her ribcage. Definitely not an act. He groaned, Sir Integra was not going to like what he was about to do. He held out a palm to her. She flinched back, afraid he would hit her, "Like I said, I'm not going to hurt you Police Girl. I'm just like you, a vampire. Had your master done the right thing, you would not be cowering in a sewer right now. It is idiotic to leave fledglings to fend for themselves. Come with me, I shall take care of you." To emphasise his point he removed his coat, being sure to tuck his gun into the waistline of his trousers, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It swarmed her, but he could tell that she was grateful for the extra warmth. The girl allowed him to pick her up bridal style and he carried her out of the sewers and down the deserted streets of London towards the Hellsing Estate.
"Were you successful?" Sir Integra questioned her servant. She furrowed her brows at the sight of Alucard. He was dishevled. Hair looking like he had raked his fingers through it multiple times in frustration, cravat loosened with the coat, fedora and glasses missing. He still managed that infernal grin though,
"Not everything went as planned." She choked on the smoke of her cigar as she stared at her subordinate. Stubbing the offensive stick of tobacco out in the ash tray, she spoke slowly the anger rising in her voice,
"Alucard, please tell me that the vampire is dead. You know what will happen if the Iscariot organisation realises we failed a simple task!"
"I need to show you something." Both Integra and Walter were taken back by the statement. So much so that they followed in silence as Alucard led them down to the dungeons and into his private quaters. They were even more perplexed as he led them to his coffin, his pride and joy, and lifted the lid to a most unexpected sight. There, wrapped up in a cocoon made from a red coat, was a young girl covered in filth sleeping and unaware of their presence. Alucard turned to them, "That, my master, is the 'Headsman'. I found her in an old crate located in the sewers. It seems that she is a new fledgling who hasn't even met her master."
"I ordered you to kill her." Sir Integra spit out through gritted teeth, "Not to bring her into my home."
"She has lasted this long on her own, making minimal mistakes and as less damage as possible. She's smart and capable. She may be of some use to us Sir Integra." Walter piped up, feeling sympathy for the small creature in Alucard's coffin.
"I don't think I could handle her roaming the estate if she's anything like Alucard. Athough, if she's trained properly she will boost our strength. That will give us an advantage over Iscariot." The Hellsing Head mused. She scrutinised the girl from behind her rounded specticles, "Does she have a name?"
"She hasn't spoken once, I just call her Police Girl."
"Very well. Alucard you shall be responsible for the Police Girl, make sure that she is fighting fit before the month is out. However, if she does not prove herself useful or capable of self control then I order you to put her down. Do I make myself clear?" With a hand over his heart, Alucard bowed mockingly to the woman,
"Yes, my master." Nodding in approval, Integra commenced towards the stairs, giving Walter orders to prepare a coffin for the next evening as well as a room. When he heard the dungeon door slam Alucard glanced at the girl once more. She buried her nose into his coat, finding comfort in his scent. Good, for her would be her new master. Yet she would never be a true vampire until she drank the blood of her creator. Placing the lid back over the coffin the No-Life King sat in his throne and rested his head on his fist. Perhaps if she proved herself worthy, he may track the scum down himself so that she may gain the status of a true vampire. Things were going to become entertaining now.