Dead Instinct

Chapter 01: Rules

It hurt...everywhere. Beneath the Hellsing home, Dracula winced. His whole body ached and protested with a passion against any movement. He had been this way for far too long and he could tell he was in need of the only thing that gave him nutrition, blood. Cramps filled his muscles. A lot of it. He would need a lot of blood. Aches and pains estimated about a couple gallons, possibly just a bit more. He was starving but his stomach wouldn't be able to handle too much blood in one setting. Not after being empty for so would help but ti would be regurgitated if he rushed feeding. It had been decades since he last felt the dull aches in his stomach but they were there and something told him he no longer had the option to take his fill of blood as he wished.

A sniff and the scent of his coffin flooded through his senses. Dirt, a mixture of the dirt he had before and new dirt. He could tell because of the faint scent of his castle coming from behind the cloth lining the box around him. The higher tones of fresh Romanian air clung to the lining but it was stale. Noticeably old and no where near as intoxicating as it had been. The smell of his home was fading and he longed to chase the smell. His body simply wouldn't allow him to turn his head enough to press his nose against the fabric, so he took in what little he could smell in the position he was in. There was also the smell of fresh new dirt. From his birthplace and his place of death. It was unwelcome to the vampire. It was foreign and he wasn't the one to put it there. The keen sense of smell the vampire had easily divided the contrast between the two earthy scents. It made his coffin feel like someone else had claimed it. Had claimed it but didn't get rid of his smell first. Like they tried to cover his scent, similar to when a woman sprayed perfume on herself to cover the smell of sweat. To a vampire, human sweat was always easy to pick out of the perfumes and most vampires preferred women not were the liquid. It was strong and usually unpleasant for someone who preferred the natural human smell. The natural female scent was sought after by most male vampires and for female vampires the natural male scent was more pleasing, arousing even to many. This dirt was nothing close to pleasing for the beast. Cold fire burned underneath his unpleasantness quickly doused by the distraction of other scents. Moist earth was most potent. It smothered him and he found it more comforting then his should have. He was underground. Under a lot of ground by the smell. It was humid but stale air and it brought him the similarity of tombs, and the sub basements in his own castle.

Then there was a human, Abraham. A mixture of feelings he hadn't experienced in a long time, anger, sadness, fright, uncertainty, a heavy sense of loss and curiosity bit at him. He was angry, he didn't know why but he was angry, more at himself than anyone else. And it came with confusion. No he didn't know why he was angry at himself. The feeling was odd. It didn't have a cause that he could think of but it was there. Not a lot of it though. No, not a lot of it. He couldn't carry a lot he decided because he couldn't think of a reason to. The sadness stemmed from the sense of loss. He could remember what he lost. His brides, as irritating and pushy as they had been, they were loyal and good company when they were happy. In the mountains and shut away from others, the Count had few to interact with that he enjoyed the company of. The Romani were there and he liked to carry a conversation or two with a few of them but they were just human and trying to explain his nature to them proved to be more difficult then most would think. He couldn't remember exactly how he had lost his family and home. The only thing he could pull out of his muddled memory was Abraham Van Hellsing. A large human. Built to hunt his kind and defend himself from vampires. His ability to create strategy and execute plans stuck out to the vampire. Had he been responsible for this feeling of loss? It would explain the pang of stung pride the vampire had every time a waft of Abraham's smell came to him. This human was special and the vampire didn't know how. Nothing other then the bright red duster particularly caught the vampires interest and he couldn't remember anything involving the hunter other then his over all person. Smart, skilled, efficient, strong...these things the vampire knew about the man but he couldn't figure out how he knew. He just did. He also knew the human's scent somehow. He could pick it out of the jumble of smells he was currently surrounded by. The dirt, the humidity, everything was less...heady...then the smell of this human.

The vampire could tell he was broken somehow. Thoughts were fuzzy and clipped. His memory didn't feel right. He could do little more then simply know things. He knew Abraham Van Hellsing was a human but not how he knew that. Had he met him? He didn't know. He knew he lost a home, family, brides, things like that but not how exactly, just that Abraham was his top concern right now. Where was this human? It felt to the vampire that he should know that but didn't. It made sense to him. He had been in his coffin for a while. Weeks maybe, a month at most, therefore he shouldn't be able to tell where the human was. Still, he felt entitled to know. He wasn't exactly worried but he still wanted to know, needed to know. It confused him farther.

And he was curious. Where was he? What time was it? Simple questions led his train of thoughts. Instinctively he guessed the time to be around 7...maybe a little later then that. He couldn't feel the pull of the sun, so he nodded to himself. Over a few centuries, he developed a frighteningly accurate sense of passing time. Seconds were easy, so were minutes and hours. Days and weeks were a bit harder. Months were not a challenge but took a little more guess work. Years felt very distinct. He would always be able to tell years. They marked the soul. If you were imprisoned for a second. You knew. If you were imprisoned for a minute you would know. A day you would know even if your exact time was off by a little bit. A week and you still could tell a week but the distance of the guess from the actual time would be farther then if you were imprisoned for a day. A month would be hard to keep track of and usually you would be off by a few days, maybe a week. Years on the other hand, you knew exactly when you hit the year mark. It was something you felt. He had been in this box for about four weeks. That was his guess.

He was in his coffin, no doubt about that. It felt like home and gave him a calm feeling. But it was tampered with. New soil, new scents...Abraham's scent. The man's scent once again flustered up a mix of confusion and curiosity. And it was everywhere on him and the coffin. On the edge of the coffin, on his body, his clothes. It was strong but not exactly fresh, so at least a few hours old. This helped the buzzing in his nerves. He had been left alone for a human's view of a long while.

A raw wave of curiosity came to the vampire. He wanted out. He wanted out of the coffin and to explore the place he was in. He was far too familiar to the insides of his coffin. The fabrics, wood, soil, everything was old and he wanted out. He didn't know why the urge was so strong, the coffin gave him relaxation and healing, it wasn't hurting him, and it was rather comfortable but he wanted out of it. Why? he didn't know why. He just did.

With a few winces he pushed against the lid of the coffin. The bones in his wrist cracked and popped as he applied pressure. The sound drew more winces from the creature and he lifted the lid just enough to allow a new batch of smells to assault him. Burning oil...a lantern probably. The dark shadows and highlights of fire casted themselves into his box and it brought a small smile to the vampire's face. It was a lantern, he was right. The modest flare of pride lightened the demon's face. He was proud he was right. Such a small thing to be proud of but proud he was. Abraham's smell was stronger out of the coffin but still old so it didn't bother the vampire in the slightest.

Barely noticeable pants, erupted from the vampire. Energy he didn't have was being spent and it was exhausting him to hold the heavy slab of wood off the coffin. Scared of damaging the lid, the vampire gently settled it back in place. As soon as the light thud hit his ears, the vampire dropped his arms back to his sides and exhaled. He needed blood...and a bath. A very long, through one.

XxxXxxXxxXxxX

In his study, Abraham growled at the paperwork once again. He had reread the files of the vampire victims and still nothing added up. Sleep did little to clear his mind, if anything it slowed it down! He could be dealing with any number of vampires. Or on the very slight chance, his luck still wanted to help him, he was dealing with only one either mentally insane vampire or really smart vampire. Scratch just one vampire. Even if he was dealing with one vampire that was attacking, he still had to deal with the failure in his basement. No not failure. He didn't know if the Count was a failure yet. All he knew was he had to feed the monster. Would it take animal blood? Did it need warm and fresh, or could it deal with cold and coagulated? The bottles he had currently came from donors. Not much blood was collected, a small bottle and a normal sized bag. He needed to come up with a more effective way to feed the beast. Hospitals maybe. Once he had the Crown's funding he didn't have a doubt that blood would be much easier to obtain. For right now though, he had to make do with what was available.

Frustrating. This whole situation was frustrating. It grated against Abraham's tolerance. He didn't know what to do with the Count and everything else. It was simply overwhelming. Maybe he needed Steward to take a look at him. Finally after a few years, his pursue of the undead just might have pushed him over the edge.

The thought ripped a rough chuckle from Hellsing. No he wasn't insane, just overwhelmed. Taking a deep gulp of watered down beer, Abraham drew random scribbles on the paper, the ink on the feathered quill long since ran out. He needed to get out of his study. The bookshelves and desk he was sure were engraved into his memory. The files and paperwork were the last thing he wanted to do and the idea of sitting and doing any of it threatened Abraham's sanity. Groaning, Hellsing rubbed his palm over his face, slight stubble catching on his calloused hands. All the hours he spent practicing staking and handling crossbows, left the skin on his palms very rough and tough. It didn't bother him in the slightest but he was sure before he even thought about courting someone, he would have to smooth them somehow. Blue eyes stared at the ceiling and an occasional sigh was breathed out.

This was very unproductive, he decided. He needed to get things done. Something, anything.

The Count was still in the basement, needed blood and if he was wakened Hellsing could use the beast to further research and as his slave he could have him do anything he needed done. The domestic idea of having the former lord doing household paperwork amused Abraham. God was it a strange idea. He wouldn't have the vampire do something like that. He could hire an assistant if he really needed to. The vampire was far too valuable to use for something so mundane.

Remnants of the Count doing paperwork, leaned over a stack of files and spending a night writing everything needed to meet the paper's standards, left Abraham in a lighter mood then usual. He stood and once again made the trip from his study to the kitchen, then to the basement. The air felt the same as before, gloomy, cold, endless. It didn't cause Abraham to waver in his actions as he took one step then the other down the staircase. His boots thudded against the stone and echoed into the darkness beyond the light the lantern in Abraham's hand could produce. In the complete darkness, is formed a five foot bubble around the hunter and illuminated the puff of white that came from every breath Abraham took.

As he grew closer to his slave's cell, Abraham's steps took on a much more cautious pace. Slow, steady, balanced. He took caution with every step and felt the blood pumping under his skin. This did nothing to reassure himself he was hidden from the monster's senses. If he himself could hear the beat of his own heart in his ear and if he could feel the blood under his skin, the vampire most certainly could. Even behind the metal doors and wards, Abraham couldn't underestimate the creature. He knew how acute the beast's hearing and smell could be. He had seen and witnessed it a thousand times. With both the Count and other vampires. The Count was hearing his every breath and heart beat. The amount of sweat that had accumulated on his skin was being breathed in by the monster and Abraham knew it. No point in hiding then.

With loud footfalls and crass rattles of the padlocks, the first door was opened and shut ungracefully. Abraham wanted his slave to know it's place. He didn't care if the banging was loud to the vampire. He didn't care what the vampire liked at all. He had came down to the basements to check on his charge's condition and possibly feed the thing. If he was in the mood, Abraham had also brought a journal to record the beast's behavior. And with sheer luck, the Count was going to be in a cooperative mood. If not, Abraham didn't have any qualms about shooting the beast and letting it sit in it's coffin a bit longer. Still, an obedient, submissive vampire was better then a stubborn, ornery vampire.

With the last of the sun gone, Abraham was positive the daylight wouldn't effect the beast, mentally or physically. He had the bag of blood, a handful of days old and chilled. The liquid sloshing around in the plastic bag brought a small set of questions to mind. Did the vampire prefer blood a certain way? Would the different types of blood effect the vampire differently? Would the temperature of the blood do anything? Lost in thought, Hellsing undid both the locks for the inner door and opened it without processing much of what was going on.

That was how he ended up staring at dull red eyes. The brownish red struck out at Abraham and he took a shocked step back in taking a sharp breath and throwing his hand over the stake strapped o his hip , taking a spare second to register the color and owner of those eyes. A startled gasp followed a suck in of chilled air. Involuntarily, Abraham's lungs tensed and shuddered, forcing a hiccup from Hellsing. He let out a shout and pushed backwards, expecting fangs to be at his throat and pain to seize his mind frame. Dracula was awake and was going to kill him. At least he had thought to shut the first door, hopefully the vampire would not be able to get farther then the connected room.

Watchful orbs observed the step back and the surprised face of Abraham. Hellsing's eyes were not filled with fright, only surprise and it brought a smirk to the corner of the vampires lips, pulling the flesh up just enough to show the tip of his fangs.

Abraham, was human. A larger human, as tall as the vampire, but undoubtedly tougher by the looks. The vampire was by no means weak looking, well starved and in the condition he was in of course he looked like a malnourished child, but at full strength, he had a lot to say for himself when it came to looking fit and built. But a human's muscles did not flow like a vampire's and it caused the flesh to look a bit skinnier on the creature. And heavier. Not fat no, but pure muscle weight was a huge difference between the two. A vampire was always lighter then a human of the same size. It allowed them to walk on snow and move silently through halls. In person, Abraham surpassed mental Abraham. He was a human, Dracula could see the potential in. Now everything, the strength, the wisdom, everything Dracula knew about the hunter, was understandable. The very air around Abraham attracted the vampire.

With a tilt of his head, the vampire bounced on the balls of his feet and fidgeted with his fingers behind his back. He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to upset Abraham, so he stayed where he was after he took a small step back to give the human some sort of room to move as he wished.

In the room connecting the cell to the hall, Hellsing shook in mild terror and extreme startle. The quick stab of realization he was going to die started to fade as he didn't experience the expected pain. He held the stake in front of him and it took him a minute to take in the situation. Abraham took a steadying breath and cleared his throat, noticing the almost timid looking vampire, and it's non threatening behavior. His hand initially went for the stake out of instinct but once again it wasn't a necessary move and he now used that hand to brace himself on the door frame. He narrowed his eyes at the creature. It hadn't said a word. Hadn't made a sound actually and was acting more like a nervous child then a blood sucking demon. The demeanor the vampire was demonstrating paused Abraham and encouraged him to take a look over the beast.

Sad. This powerful thing was in a very sad state. It was skinny, unhealthy so and where muscle was supposed to be, the skin covered mere bones in places. It was still that haunting grey, and wrinkled in odd proportions compared to the amount of skin that was tight over the bone. Now that the beast wasn't lying prone in it's resting place, the cheekbones stood out more and gave the hollow of the eye socket deepened. It gave the illusion that the vampire was a walking mummy and in some sense he was. The hair fell in thin, grey strands. A few fell over his shoulder and came down to his middle torso. Chunks of matted hair clashed with the unkempt strands framing the face. The bright red Abraham had branded into his soul showed more brown than anything and looked to Abraham like dried blood. They showed a basic thought process but nothing more. No plotting or suspicious look. No sharp observation. The quick thinking the beast had showed during his hunt was still there but merely to assess the situation, not the burning blood lust. This was not the Count. Not the monster that hunted Abraham's friends. Not the evil that had tormented thousands of people for fun. This was a shell of that demon. It had the basic mind, the body, even though it was swiped clean, and the ability to observe, but how far did this go? Did the vampire even know who he was?

"Do you know who I am, monster?" He was met with a flare of recognition and a quick response. "Yes, you are the human, Abraham Van Hellsing." Something wasn't right. There was not the memory there. This vampire knew who he was but did not know him at the same time. How about a different approach. "Do you know who you are?" The response was slower. The beast had to tilt it's head in thought and glance off into nothingness for a moment before it could put an answer together. "I am a vampire, Vlad Dracul. But I go by Count by what I remember. However I have a feeling I am not him anymore either. " Abraham didn't know what to do.

The...that was not the response he expected. Neither was the way the vampire was acting and even the fact that the vampire was out of it's coffin wasn't expected. The damned thing knew who he was. It knew his name. Knew he was human. It knew its own name, that it was a vampire and it recognized that based on whatever, it was not in power anymore. That at least was something Abraham counted as a benefit of the predicament. Instead of the two different scenarios Abraham had thought of originally, he had a vampire that didn't exactly have fire. Or at least not the personality it had before. Best of all, it knew it was not in power. He didn't know if the creature thought of him as he person in charge but it was a huge step to even getting it to think it was not in charge.

A few seconds passed and the dirty beast just stood on the balls of it's feet, silently bouncing on them and waiting patiently for the next question it seemed.

"You are not the Count anymore, slave. You have fallen from your power and now are at the mercy of me. You know who I am. I expect nothing but obedience. You are nothing but what I wish you to be." The brief explanation began the cogs in the monster's mind. Clearly it was processing the information and it appeared to be taking the statement in stride. There wasn't anger or sadness. A flicker of confusion and then it vanished. It nodded it's head, showing it understood. "Good. I don't know how much this has affected you. This cell is yours to move about in. The walls you can not touch, the windows and doors you may not touch, the floor is free to move about on, so is your coffin. Do not think about escaping, and do not attempt it. I will find and kill you if this occurs." Another pause and the vampire nodded again. Here Abraham just felt like no matter what he said, the beast would agree to it. Obviously it was interested in learning it's position and Abraham, while eager to get it into his head, he didn't know if this was permanent or not, he couldn't think of anything else pressing to say to the monster. "You will address me as master, slave. Is that understood?" The vampire gave yet another nod. "Speak."

"Yes, Master." That was easier then Abraham ever thought that would have been. There wasn't any hesitation and it was done instantly. Abraham sure as hell hoped whatever damaged the vampires brain would last permanently, well for what he had seen so far. He didn't know if it affected it's abilities or anything but so far this was perfect.