7.13.14 - Catherine's conversation with Integra has been revised.
9.10.15 - Minor edits. No revision.
Thanks for the reviews. ;} You guys are the best.
Chapter 3
Catherine had no idea what to say. She looked down at her hands as the tall man stood over her, laughing hysterically now. Her skin was dark and slick with blood, and she suddenly felt sick. She looked past the man at Marlena; the girl was still lying on the ground, unmoving. Tears pricked her eyes.
"Stop it," she whispered. The man laughed and laughed, almost doubling over in his mirth. "Stop it," Catherine said louder, her ears starting to burn with rage. She rose up onto her knees and screamed at him, "Stop laughing!"
He stopped. But he was grinning at her now, as though her anger were amusing him too.
"Was it difficult for you?" he asked, his teeth flashing sharply as he grinned. "Or did it come naturally, killing another creature like that? So brutally? So mercilessly?" He spoke with an odd, blended accent; his soft vowels were very British, but he pronounced his consonants in a thick way that was reminiscent of Eastern Europe.
Catherine glowered up at the man, and she realized that she was so angry she was crying. Her fists clenched, the blood squelching between her fingers. "You can't laugh," was all she could grate out. "You can't laugh at this." The man grinned wider, and Catherine's expression of rage melted to shock.
His teeth. His teeth were just like the dead man's teeth, long and sharp.
"A human can't, perhaps," came his deep voice as she stared, "but a monster can." He reached up with deliberate slowness to pull the glasses from his face. "And I am a monster. Aren't I?"
Catherine's breath hitched when he revealed his eyes. Like the dead man's they glowed, but the red glimmer was deeper, much more intense in the tall man's eyes. Hell's fires could have been contained in those eyes.
"God," she breathed.
"Is not here," the tall man answered.
A shuffling sound came from behind him.
Catherine broke the hypnotic eye contact to look around the man, and she saw Marlena coming toward them. She struggled upright and hurried around him to Marlena, who was staggering in a strange, hunched-over position. Catherine grabbed hold of her shoulders to steady her.
"Are you okay?" she said. Marlena shuddered, but she seemed to be able to stand on her own. Catherine took a step back from her to assess her injuries. "It's okay," she assured the girl. "I think the police are here-"
Marlena raised her hand swiftly and drew her nails down hard across Catherine's cheek. Catherine shoved her back with a scream, and the other girl tripped over her own feet to fall awkwardly in the dirt. As Catherine gasped and held her bleeding face, Marlena slowly levered herself up, pausing only to stick her bloody fingers in her mouth. Catherine backed away from her as the she sucked under her nails and licked at her fingers. She met Catherine's eyes, and Catherine saw that they glowed red. With unnatural speed, Marlena suddenly kicked off of the ground and launched herself at her.
A metallic click sounded in Catherine's right ear. In the span of half a second she saw the long slide of a silver gun come over her shoulder, then a deafening bang pierced her eardrum. Marlena was a burst of ash in mid-air, and then the wind carried her away. Catherine could only take shallow, shuddering breaths as she watched the ash cloud that was Marlena dissipate.
"That was close," came the gravelly voice into her good ear; she could feel the man's cool breath on her skin. "I do believe she would have killed you." Catherine gasped softly when she felt his nose against the side of her head, but she was still too shocked to move.
"What's happening?" she whispered. She was trembling. "What is all this?" There was a pressure on her belly, and she realized that the man had wrapped an arm around her.
"You're bleeding," he said softly. The pressure on her belly increased as the man drew her back against him. She felt no body heat from him. The man put away the gun into his coat, freeing his other hand to stroke her hair gently and turn her wounded cheek toward him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him open his mouth, and then his cold tongue was sliding up her cheek, lapping the blood away.
Push him away! her mind screamed, but her body was too disconnected to obey.
His lapping was gentle as first, but now his tongue moved roughly against the wounds, causing her to wince. His arm tightened almost painfully around her, and she gasped when she felt her feet leave the ground.
"Your blood," he breathed against her wounds. "So full, so rich…" Catherine felt the soft fabric of his gloved palm against her forehead as he pulled her head to the side. His breath tickled her neck as he nosed her hair out of the way. She felt his tongue on her skin, and a soft "Oh" escaped her. Why wasn't she fighting? Screaming? His cold lips moved against her throat, parting, and Catherine felt her eyes closing in the strangest and most pleasurable anticipation. Please, yes…
Her body jolted and there was a sudden pressure on her neck. An intense thrill shot through her, and she cried out. The fingers of her right hand dug into the arm holding her up, and her other hand reached up to clutch at the man's hair. She seized a hard handful of it and heard him growl against her skin.
She was vaguely aware that he was biting her, but she felt no pain. Instead, an intense heat radiated out from where his teeth were embedded in her flesh. It was glorious, this heat, as it bloomed from her neck and coursed through her body. Her heart felt hot in her chest, like a throbbing cinder, and with each pulse it sent the heat back up to her brain. That heavy heat stoked itself deep in her abdomen, too, and with a moan she squeezed her thighs together to accommodate it. The pleasure was so fierce that it was agonizing to not. The man groaned into her flesh, his fingertips digging into her side, as she ground her hips back against him.
She didn't want this to end. Pulling the lock of black hair clenched in her fist, she urged him on. She felt his long fingers rake through her own hair, freeing it from the tie to fall loose over her shoulder. He grasped a tight fistful of it and tugged her head back in a dominating way. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as the pressure against her skin redoubled, and she stared sightlessly up at the stars. Something hot was running down between her breasts, soaking her shirt. Don't stop don't stop don't stop…
"Alucard."
The pressure released and Catherine gasped, tugging the long tresses and begging it to start again. "Please," she whispered aloud. A strong hand untangled her fingers from the hair they clutched, and she felt the ground beneath her feet again. The world spun, and she overbalanced forward, but that strong arm reappeared and snagged her by the waist before she could fall.
"Release the girl."
There was a moment's hesitation from the tall man, but he obeyed the voice. Catherine wobbled in place, the world slowly settling now. In front of her, a figure was doubling together to form a man with long, blonde hair. No, a woman. She wore a sharp-cut blue suit and a neat crimson cravat; a large silver cross gleamed at her throat. She regarded Catherine through big, round glasses, her blue gaze impassive.
"Can you walk?" she said, her voice deep for a woman's. Catherine nodded slowly, using the woman as a focal point to keep her balance. "Then go inside. Do as the officers tell you."
Catherine did. A man in a SWAT-like uniform was waiting at the propped-open door, and she let him take her by the arm. His arm badge read "Hellsing." Catherine looked over her shoulder before she was led away, and she saw the tall man staring intently after her.
Those eyes…
"Rabies?!" Catherine cried. "Rabies doesn't do that! Rabies doesn't make your eyes glow, or, or… any of what happened!" She was sitting in a cushioned, high-backed chair. When she had been led out of Lolly's, the officers had put her in an SUV and slipped a blindfold over her eyes. She had protested at first, but a threat concerning a gag and a pair of handcuffs quieted her. A short drive later, she was led up some steps and into a building, and subsequently into the small, high-ceilinged study she sat in now.
She looked at the blood transfusion drip that snaked down into her arm, then back at the officer. He had removed his helmet and mask, and turned out to be quite a handsome fellow with his dark eyes and curly hair. Still, he was infuriating.
"It wasn't rabies," Catherine asserted. "That's bullshit, and you know it. They were like zombies, they were monsters."
Mr. Handsome shrugged. "Rabies can be scary like zombies," he said with the slightest German accent. Catherine just pursed her lips and glared at him.
The door opened, and the officer jumped up. The woman in the blue suit walked in carrying a small briefcase, followed closely behind by the tall man, who wore an almost sullen expression. Catherine's blood still stained his face and neck, and she found herself avoiding his burning gaze as much to keep from looking at her own blood as to keep from looking into his eyes.
"That will be all," the woman said, and the officer saluted smartly. He stepped out, closing the door behind him. Catherine shifted uncomfortably in her blood-stained clothes as the woman sat down in a leather chair across from her. The briefcase rested next to her expensive shoes.
"Why do their eyes glow?" Catherine asked, her gaze flickering up to the tall man, then away again when his stare seemed to intensify.
The woman opened a drawer in the side table next to her and withdrew a cigar box. She selected one, lit it, and took a deep drag. She exhaled. "Because they're vampires," she said matter-of-factly. The woman was quiet for a moment, as if letting that sink in. "You saw quite a lot tonight. Usually there aren't any survivors for us to deal with. I apologize for the inconsistency in the explanations you've received."
Catherine looked down at the ornate rug beneath the woman's feet. "Vampires are real," she said, and the woman confirmed with a "Yes." The girl shook her head slowly as if in disbelief, but she did say, "Makes sense." It would have been harder to accept if she hadn't just been attacked by the monsters. Wait...
The bite!
"Am I going to become a vampire?" Catherine said quickly, her eyes widening. The woman offered a dry smile.
"No."
"So why did Marlena..." Catherine trailed off. It hurt to think about her.
A thread of smoke curled from the woman's cigar. "Your friend's bite was different than yours. Much different." She didn't explain further.
The tall man shifted behind the woman's chair. He was tilting his head to the side, watching her still.
"Who are you?" Catherine asked.
"We are Hellsing, an organization dedicated to eradicating vampires in the name of God. I am Sir Integra Hellsing, the Director."
Catherine's eyes wandered back to the tall man. "He's with you?" she said. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she broke the contact to look at Integra. The dry smile returned.
"He is," she replied. The director looked sideways at the tall man. "And I apologize for his behavior as well. Now…" She lifted the briefcase onto the table and placed it facing Catherine. "As you can imagine, we don't want the world in a panic over this. I have here 75,000 pounds, which should hold you over for a while until you find another job, or help you to afford a psychiatrist should you need one." The briefcase clicked open and Integra showed her the money. "You will take this and leave here, after your transfusion is finished, of course, and you will not say anything to anyone about what you saw tonight."
The reality of the situation sunk in. They expected her to pretend like this had never happened. Catherine thought of Marlena, of her family, and she wondered what sort of lie they would be told. And Eddie's family, and Dale's… It seemed so cold, so wrong to hide the truth.
"If you didn't want this getting out, why did you tell me anything?" Catherine said, her voice carrying a note of bitterness.
Integra smiled that dry smile again. "When these things happen without explanation, they can drive a person mad. It's better to know something that makes sense." She crossed her long legs elegantly.
"Besides," she said, "no one will believe you anyway."
Catherine was pushed into a car with the briefcase and taken away. Sir Integra Hellsing watched from a window, her cigar pluming smoke from the corner of her mouth, as the SUV drove through Hellsing Manor's gates. She thought back to the conversation she had had with Alucard behind Lolly's.
"You lost control," she had said to the vampire. "Why?"
Alucard looked at her, his face and neck stained with the girl's blood. He didn't speak.
Integra took a step forward, her eyes sparking with anger. "Answer me, Servant!"
"She is a Bride," he said softly, and Integra tried to keep the surprise from her face. This was not something she had ever expected to deal with. Sure, he had seeked out Brides in the past, but he wouldn't do this again. He wouldn't go after this girl like he did Mina Harker… Would he?
"Alucard," she said, leveling her voice as best she could, "this is a different time. Things have changed. You must forget about this, let the past rest. Do you understand, my Servant?"
The vampire's eyes darkened, with anger or sorrow Integra wasn't sure, and then he bowed deeply. "Yes, my Master," he said.
Now, as Integra watched the car disappearing down the long road in the distance, she wondered if Alucard would be able to obey her orders, and what she would have to do if he could not.
Deep below, in Hellsing Manor's basement, Alucard sat in his chair. The girl's blood had crusted and turned dark on his skin, but he didn't wash it away. Instead, he breathed deeply, taking as much of her scent as he could from the dry blood. Sweet virgin blood. The scent would fade soon, and the idea threatened to drive him mad. He wanted more. He needed more.
His long fingers squeezed the chair's arms until they splintered. He stood abruptly, grabbed the solid oak chair, and hefted it above his head. The huge, heavy piece of furniture that would have taken three men to carry smashed to pieces against the stone floor as though it were made of twigs. He snatched up the table then, and hurled it violently against the wall twenty feet away; it crashed with so much force that it exploded to splintered chunks.
With nothing left to destroy, Alucard fell to his knees and began dragging his fingers in long grooves along the floor, his teeth grinding together and his eyes flaring. The stone yielded under his fury, and soon the gouges were nine inches deep. He stopped then and stared for a long time at the ruts he'd made. His self-control eventually returned, and his blood cooled. Integra had told him to let the past rest, but she didn't understand.
That girl was living here, in this time, for him.
Alucard slowly went to his coffin, like a man in a dream, and climbed into it, sealing himself in with the girl's scent. He stared up at the lid in the blackness and replayed in his mind her clutching his hair in her little fist, her panting, her grinding against him, the ecstasy of feeding from her. He imagined stripping the clothes from her, running his bare hands over her smooth flesh. He would feed from her wherever he wanted: her white neck, her slender wrists, the soft swell of her breast. And when the courtship was over he would truly have her, this girl who was made to serve him, from now until The Last Day.
The No-Life King's lips parted, and he breathed her name in the darkness:
"Catherine."
