Chapter 4: Black and Red Velvet

"And you're one-hundred percent certain that this was carried out by no more than two individuals at the most?" Sir Integra spoke down the phone, her tone respectfully calm and patient even as yet more bad news was delivered to her at such an inopportune time late in the evening, the white gloves on her fingers scrunching as her grip tightened on the sleek black pen she held in her hand, quietly taking notes of the conversation in a lined-paper, leather-bound pocketbook laying open on her desk.

"Yes ma'am." came the amazingly clear voice from the large viewing screen in front of her, the light reflecting off the lenses of her ornate circular spectacles as she listened to the officer finish his de-briefing, "Witnesses from households just outside of the town gave accounts of two people arriving in the late afternoon on foot that matched the descriptions in both our private databases and the reports listed by several of her majesty's undercover operatives that were stationed close-by during the previous day, though none of them personally witnessed the actual events that followed, staying clear as per protocol for such an encounter."

Finishing up her note-taking and placing her pen back into a pocket inside her jacket, Integra moved a gloved hand up to her face, gripping her father expensive Cuban cigar and tapping the excess ash from the end of it off into a nearby crystal ashtray before sitting back up in her leather-backed chair. She'd been slowly puffing at the cigar for a good fifteen minutes now, but there was still a decent enough length of it left, something she was grateful for with the stress she'd had to put up with, this late night call only adding to that unwanted pile.

"Thank you for your decisive and detailed report commander. You may return to your regular duties, but be sure to vacate the area as soon as possible to avoid any needless confrontations." she said promptly, the brown-haired man in military uniform on the screen making a quick military salute to her before the call ended with a soft click, the screen returning to a 3-D layout of the globe with various flashing dots and expansive sweeping lines marking points of interest and country borders, the latter having shifted a little after the incidents following the millennium invasion a few decades prior. With a quiet mechanical hum, the screen began to sink slowly back into a concealing compartment inside the desk in front of her to free up space that could be put to better use, the platinum-haired lady watching it descend with an expression of faint disappointment.

"I miss my old mahogany desk." she sighed wistfully, not aiming the comment at anyone in particular, taking another much-needed drag of her cigar shortly after.

"Why's that Sir Integra? This one's got much more add-ons than the old one you had, even got more storage space for knives, guns and the like. Heck you can even put that fancy sword of yours in there" Seras commented, the blonde busty and (rather annoyingly to Integra, still almost teenage in appearance) vampire scratching the back of her head as she looked at the desk with an adorable puppy-like tilt of her head, the entire thing seeming to fit Integra's purposes far better than any simple piece of wooden furniture could.

"There's a certain nostalgic feeling I get from classic wooden furniture." Integra replied, placing a white-gloved hand on the plastic replica-wooden surface of the table and getting to her feet, her chair rolling back towards the wall on hidden little casters on the underside of the legs, an audible reminder of how much of the equipment around the mansion had been adjusted to compensate for her advancing age and the steady march of technology. "It honestly wasn't all that many years ago when it was still considered the method of choice for close-combat with a vampire to drive a stake through their heart, silver or wooden. The wood in my old desk had been aged for over a hundred years from an orchard that had stood since centuries before Hellsing was ever founded, and had even been used to manufacture crossbow bolts back in the days before firearms became popular. Many trees there ended up being grown specifically for the paranormal research department, everything from White Oak to Ebony for either anti-supernatural weaponry or for investigations into spiritual wards and such things. I guess you could say it was a part of the family business to me."

Seras smiled sympathetically at Integra's words, following her silently as she walked towards the doors of her office, which opened quietly before them while the platinum haired woman took another slow drag on her cigar as they headed out into the fully carpeted hallways, the residual smoke swirling around her dress shirt a moment before dissipating. While nowhere near as mature a personality as Integra, Seras knew all too well how much of an impact the little changes happening around them could have of her emotional state while there wasn't a crisis to distract her from them. In truth, she too also felt quite a deal of nostalgia thinking back to the days following her first becoming what she was now.

On a whim, the blonde vampire had once taken a trip back to where she grew up outside of her missions to see how it had fared, and what she'd found instead was a completely re-built housing estate with not a single brick in common with what she remembered, and while the same people lived in the houses with the same addresses and even the same accents they had all changed along with the rest of the world over the years. The eyes of children she used to play with that had burned so bright with hope were now glassy and dull as the drudgery of making a living and taking care of the rest of their day-to-day chores and tasks ate away at their once vivid and bright imaginations, many of them now fearful to step out onto the evening streets at all, leaving Seras feeling even more distant from them than her newfound species made it out to be.

She hadn't been looking for a joyful reunion in particular, it was just a passing thought that she wanted to see to, but the knowledge of that part of her childhood passing by without her knowledge still felt like a blow had been struck somewhere, even if wasn't nothing affecting her professional or personal life.

"Sir Integra, what do you think Iscariot could be trying to gain from such a small-scale cleansing?" Seras asked curiously, her dark blood-red uniform contrasting with her fair smooth skin as the light from the vast sprawling windows of the mansion passed them by, her keen vampiric eyes observing her commander's reaction as best she could. One trait that had never left Integra's grasp was the ability to keep her mood utterly unreadable by her facial expressions or body language alone when talking to others for the majority of the time, keeping them guessing, on-edge and therefore at a distinct disadvantage to her cool and calculated demeanour which allowed her to think out each action efficiently.

"This is nothing like what I'd expect if they were attempting a direct offensive against us, or antagonise us, and I'm not entirely convinced it was their intention to interfere with one of our leads." the silver-haired woman replied to her subordinate, her eyes remaining fixed on the hallway ahead of her as she brought her cigar up to her mouth and took another long draw on it before continuing. "You see Seras, Ireland has been a part of the British Isles for centuries but if anything has had some of the worst inter-relations with England throughout history out of all the countries we've ever encountered, most notably just after the English civil war when Oliver Cromwell halved their population in order to try and convert them to Catholicism. Despite this atrocity, many of them did in fact convert, and as such there's a strong Catholic presence there that utterly despises the Church of England, the English Royal family that heads it, and us by proxy. As a result of both of these occurrences, they are doing their best to remain distant enough from us that we can't observe everything they do, but close enough that any direct offensive on them from an outsider would also directly affect us. Clearing out a group of half-baked Vampires from a small rural town is nothing that would cause any great uproar from the officials who govern there, or provoke any kind of retaliation from us here at Hellsing as we officially do not operate over there. Those Vampires were part of a small group we'd been hoping to follow in an attempt to get a new lead on the man you encountered, and coincidentally they were all utterly eviscerated before we could get a single word out of them. But despite this all looking like the perfectly laid out ambush to silence them before they could talk, something isn't right with the execution."

"Umm…Sir Integra, I'm not sure I follow?" Seras replied, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to comprehend what her commander was insinuating; field experience and police training aside, Seras was still admittedly not much of a strategist, and preferred taking and carrying out orders to planning out and giving them, her vampire abilities making the physical part of the job almost criminally easy for her.

"Perhaps I can help in that regard my fair-haired lady." came a distinctly French-accented voice that Seras knew well. Looking just off to her left, she saw the familiar handsome features of Pip Bernadotte, the long since deceased leader of a band of mercenaries known as 'The Wild Geese' who gave their lives defending the Hellsing manor in an attempt to draw fire away from the innocent people of London and reduce the ranks of millennium's forces, this man in particular being responsible for her ascension into a full-blooded vampire with his dying request for her to drink his blood. With that trade-mark lop-sided smile in place along with his broad-brimmed hat, and fluttering scarf around his neck as his torso extended out from the dark red aura bristling from Seras's back like some maliciously intelligent blood-red flame, he added his own two franc's to the conversation.

"You see my dear, this Iscariot organization currently does not possess neither the man-power nor the public support to launch an offensive against merry old England and her allies. They are known to have taken part in the offensive against the innocent people of this country just as eagerly as they attacked the blood-thirsty monsters that were swarming upon them, and they have had quite a few internal problems since Alexander Anderson was seen to publicly kill Archbishop Maxwell during the millennium incident. So, before any further actions can be taken without ruffling more tail-feathers than they'd prefer, they'd have to improve their image to the common folk by demonstrating that they are on their side, and of course build up an army bigger than a few choir-boys with silver knives tied to broom-handles. But even with this in mind, there's another question that Sir Integra is still trying to answer: why were we able to find out about all of this within hours of it happening?"

Seras's face lit up in realisation.

"Nobody even tried to clean up after them." she spoke with renewed insight, Integra nodding quietly as Pip continued, clicking his fingers at Seras' realisation.

"Oui, tres bon my little mignonette! On every other occasion we've squared off with these people we have had to keep a look-out for them and wait for any signs of trouble to determine where they are and why, but this time the town was quite literally painted red for us to know about. We even confirmed that a clean-up team was dispatched to the area by Iscariot to hide all traces of the incident, but they simply never performed their task, turned around and headed back to safety. If this was supposed to be a display of power to us, then they wouldn't have sent them in the first place; if this was a secret weapons test, then they would have been certain to cover their tracks to make sure we couldn't follow and chosen a place far closer to Rome than Ireland; if the team was killed, then there would have been at least some evidence over Iscariot chatter to this effect, but there was none whatsoever. It is no accident on their part that we found out about this, but something about this whole affair does not add up to me either. There are far too many inconsistencies to say for sure what was happening, so we are left with almost nothing to go on about what to expect from them in the near future."

"That's what worries me." Integra replied, taking a sideways glance at Seras along with the former mercenary's half-concealed spectral form that extended from Seras's supernatural body from the moment as they walked. Decades of being around her had more or less given her natural immunity to such bizarrely creepy looking displays of power, though privately Integra was silently grateful that she never had to share her own body with another soul. "An enemy that you can't predict or anticipate is the most deadly of all, because no matter what they attempt to do there is the opportunity for them to catch you off-guard. Seras, did anything that was described in that report seem like it could be the work of our new unknown player?"

Seras had to think hard on that one for a moment.

So far, she'd heard a grand total of two words come from the mysterious black-dressed figure that managed to both kill her target so effortlessly and escape without a trace from a fully-fledged true vampire, which wasn't much to go on. Also, whatever was stopping her from sensing his presence back then also prevented her from getting any estimate on how strong he might have been, leaving her utterly blind as to what he was capable of. The only person who recognized him from his description was Alucard, who had so far completely refused to enlighten them on him, a wicked grin spreading across his face whenever this individual was brought up in conversation. That alone showed that had had the immortal Vampire's interest as a possibly entertaining opponent, and left Seras feeling very uneasy.

However, none of what had been found in that village square in Ireland seemed to match up with his style.

The black dressed man had been smooth as silk in every motion he made, as silent as anything in existence could ever hope to be and left absolutely no trace behind him, not even a single quiet footstep. The incident in Ireland had been very messy, with the sheer brutality with which these vampires were killed and the extent to which they tried to defend themselves being very evident, like they we intentionally allowed to fight simply to be crushed underfoot. Everything had been left afterwards almost as a clear warning to other supernatural beings to stay away, and the residual energy readings that indicated the presence of a strong spiritual barrier reeked of Iscariot's work, but really didn't fit with the methods used by the man in black.

"No ma'am. Quite honestly, I think that from what was described of the scene, whoever did this wasn't as effective a killer as the man I encountered in France. He would've killed them before they could even scream, not let them run away." Seras answered.

"She makes a good point Sir Integra." the orange haired mercenary apparating over her shoulder concurred, "If this were somebody who could hide themselves so completely from all detection like our mystery friend, then surely he could have finished the fight without so much collateral damage or making such a scene. I'd personally say that Iscariot's new King-side Bishop was involved in this affair, and that Iscariot was clearly trying to send a message to us with this underhand movement, though we can't say for sure whether Iscariot know about the new guy or not."

"It's certainly possible that they don't, after all we've never heard of him until now, and he managed to get the drop on me before. If he was part of Iscariot then he wouldn't have just let me leave unharmed like he did." Seras pointed out, keeping step with Integra as the long-haired woman took another long drag on her cigar to help digest this information, the constantly mounting stress of a new situation like this not one that she fancied along with her usual schedule and the looming thought of what it might develop into if it was handled incorrectly.

"Very well." the long haired lady spoke in a firm decisive tone, turning in place to face Seras and her immaterial companion just as they reached a set of large descending stairs leading down to the ground floor of the mansion. "For now we can conclude that this attack was a direct attempt by Iscariot to eradicate any unholy vampires on what they consider to be Catholic soil, regardless of whether we want them to or not. As we can't determine whether Iscariot has any knowledge of the creature we encountered in France, we shall assume that they do not know until proven otherwise, and shall not inform them of his existence until they discover it for themselves. As for right now, we need to focus our efforts on two separate fronts simultaneously. The first priority is to find and capture, or exterminate, whoever Seras saw standing on top of that wall before the Vatican or anyone else gets to him. The second is to discreetly prepare a suitable defensive contingency plan in case Iscariot attempt an offensive on us while we're busy doing this; if executed correctly, then we can use this defensive preparation as a diversion to attract Iscariot's attention while we track down this unknown assassin, giving us more time to determine exactly who and what he is along with his intentions.

"Seras: you and Alucard will be sent out together as part of an attack on a growing group of underworld supernaturals in Switzerland that we have been asked to take care of by our European allies. Normally we would dismiss such a request, but if this mystery player is indeed still searching for more Vampire targets, then this is most likely where he will appear next. If not, then we could expose a new lead as to his whereabouts if any of these supernaturals know about him. Be aware that if he's already in league with one of our enemies, then there is also a very good chance that this could be a trap placed by someone in the European government to try and have this assailant subdue one or both of you, or allow Iscariot to take care of you outside of our borders while they attack us, so you must be on constant alert during this mission. Also, there is a significantly large chance that you will run into Charles Chandler during the course of this mission. He may just be a regenerator compared to you being a vampire, but Iscariot would not have so proudly named a new instrument of divine retribution without giving him some countermeasure against you, treat him with extreme caution. I will remain here and organize a sizeable force to defend ourselves until you return should the worst happen."

The blonde haired vampire snapped her feet to attention on the spot, saluting Integra by raising a hand to the side of her head in an unintentionally cute fashion, with Pip Bernadotte doing the same just off to her side, though with him neither possessing any feet nor being on anybody's payroll anymore after dying, his was more out of mutual respect than any real need to, his cocky smile still in place as his form began to flicker and fade back into Seras's body with his piece spoken, as immaterial as the memories of him that remained inside those few still alive that remembered him.

Just as Integra was turning around to walk down the flight of stairs she paused, turning her head to look at Seras sides ways with a suddenly guarded expression, her eyes as piercing as and direct as an iron lance. Seras felt a trickle of cold sweat run down the back of her neck under the sudden close scrutiny coming out of nowhere, not daring to speak or move for the moment as her nerves got the better of her.

"Seras." Integra spoke deliberately clearly, in that audibly firm tone that warns anyone just how unwise it would be to argue with her in that moment, her glasses catching the moonlight along with the front of her immaculate dress shirt and suit trousers and making the already tall and striking woman's presence more emphasized.

"Yes ma'am?" the slightly shorter vampire replied, almost feeling herself shrink a little, her arm still held up in a salute, not wanting to draw even more attention to herself by lowering it just yet. There then followed a few painfully quiet seconds of absolute silence between the two of them, neither so much as twitching a facial muscle, until Integra finally spoke.

"Why aren't you wearing a bra?"

"Eh?" came Seras's dumfounded response.

"I said why aren't you wearing a bra?" Integra repeated.

Blinking in surprise, the blonde vampire looked down at her notably 'adequate' chest, lowering the hand that she had saluted with and scratching the side of her chin. Integra was right, Seras was 'gifted' enough that it was plain to see by the way her bust jiggled so blatantly when she moved that they were not constrained beneath her uniform in the slightest.

"It feels really uncomfortable when I wear one, so I tend to just go without." she responded with a slight blush.

"Well you have to get used to it. The men in our guard don't particularly like having to wear heavy bullet-proof vests or crotch-guards all the time but they still do it." Integra pointed out in a disciplinary tone.

"But it's not like bullets can really hurt me anyway ma'am." Seras pointed out.

"That's no excuse, you have to start wearing one immediately, it's improper to go around without one."

"But none of the men around the mansion have told me that yet, so maybe it's not so improper anymore?"

Integra felt a few of the veins on her forehead start to pound as she persisted, knowing full-well that those same men honestly didn't care about it being proper or not, most likely of the opinion that Seras could wear as little as she pleased so long as they were given ample opportunity to look at her.

"Seras, this is not up for discussion, you are going to be wearing one from now on, understood?" she said with strained patience.

"Aw but all the ones I've tried hurt my chest when I put them on." Seras moaned, her pouting face the perfect picture of a child trying to get out of brushing its teeth every night.

"No buts. I expect you to be properly dressed before you meet up with Alucard for dispatch to Switzerland." Integra stated firmly, crossing her arms and shooting Seras an admonishing glare.

"It's not fair, you don't know what it's like to have this problem when you wear one." Seras whined.

The very next instant, the blonde-haired vampire felt her blood run cold as the cigar that Integra had be holding idly in her hands was suddenly pulverised into powder with the force of her grip, the platinum haired woman's face looking just one short step away from unbridled rage as she looked her subordinate directly in the eye, her eyebrow twitching as a dark smile spread across her face, her next words spoken through gritted teeth and carrying as much venom as a viper's bite, "I beg your pardon Seras, I'm afraid my hearing is going faster than I thought. Please repeat what you just said."

A cursory glance from one woman to the other would have given any onlooker a pretty big hint as to why Integra was so insulted by this last remark, as Seras had a much more 'filled out' figure, while Integra could legitimately be mistaken for a man from a distance.

"I'll put one on as soon as I get to my room." the blonde-haired Vampire replied very quickly and very meekly, bowing her head a little to try and avoid Integra's gaze, extremely thankful when she seemed to accept this answer and turned away, walking down the stairs with a visible amount of tension in her shoulders. She could practically feel the older woman seething as she descended the stairs however, and couldn't help but stay put for a few seconds afterwards just to be certain she was out of trouble for the moment.

Sighing in relief, she spun on her heels and ran straight for her room, not wanting to provoke her commander's anger any further, easily travelling a good 20 feet before each separate foot made contact with the floor again with her pace.

Looking up at the moon as it flashed in and out of view as she ran past window after window, she couldn't help but wonder if that same black-dressed man was doing the same somewhere else in the world, perhaps planning what his next move would be with just as much attention to detail as they were. Those eyes that had observed her with such tranquil calmness in spite of what she was capable of had truly taken her by surprise; it was a look that she had only ever seen once before, a look of complete and utter serenity and peace while still showing a hopeful pride in her for simply being what she was. It was the look she had received from her master the day he saw her mature into a fully-fledged vampire.

*In a quiet mountainside hotel somewhere in the Alps*

Soft moonlight filtered in through the clear polished-wood framed window of the room that had been reserved on the west-facing side of the establishment, illuminating a perfectly made and very obviously empty bed with crisp sky-blue sheets that had been left completely untouched in the two hours that the sole occupant had been in the room. Outside the mountain wind was uncharacteristically still for a change, giving everyone inside their beds a far more peaceful sleep than they had become accustomed to, at least for those who had any interest in doing as such.

The occupant in question was currently sitting quietly in a chair that had been pulled out from under the desk and placed up against one of the walls, leaving him utterly out of view to anyone who might be looking in through the window or about to enter through the door. The pitch black material that entirely swathed him in his one-of-a-kind skin-tight body armour from the neck down save for his near-white hands blended unnaturally well with the shadows that had fallen into place around him, his outline virtually impossible to see with the naked eye, and his long dark hair flowing down his back and washing over his spiked shoulder-plates only enhancing the effect while his sprawling midnight cape completed the backdrop, leaving it completely up to speculation where it ended and the lack of light in the room began.

Beneath his large brimmed hat, a pale and unspeakably beautiful face looked down at a plain white cup that had been placed on the table next to him with dark red eyes, the lukewarm water inside it not even swilling at this point. There was no expression his face that could give away so much as a shred of what he was contemplating, no subtle movement of an eyebrow, no small twitch of his lips as they remained in a thin line that moved neither up nor at the edges, an utterly blank canvas for others to draw their own fruitless conclusions upon.

"You know, there's no real obligation for us to go through with this, besides the money I mean." a quiet gruff voice spoke out to the figure, the sound emanating from just beneath the man's left hand which rested palm-down on the arm of the chair, causing his eyes to slowly drift over to it. Turning the hand over onto its side, the silk-smooth skin of his palm contorted and shifted before him, the flesh beneath re-arranging itself silently and painlessly into the grotesque form of some inhuman face, two black empty holes serving as this thing's eyes as it stared up at the man questioningly, it's shrivelled mouth turned up on one side with its receded nose seemingly squashed up in-between it's other facial features for the sheer sake of including it while saving space for everything else.

"We already have more than enough to be getting on with even if we don't receive the second half of the payment." the parasitic entity spoke up to its host, a few widely spaced and ancient teeth showing through what was attempting to imitate its lips as it did so.

"This mission is under false pretence." the black haired man replied in a quiet voice that was even smoother than his skin, seeming to drip from his lips like sweetened honey in anyone who might hear them, with the same alluring quality of a whispered promise into a maiden's ear on her wedding night even in casual conversation, though carrying ample weight as he responded in a musing tone, "We are being ordered to carry out tasks far too simple and achievable to warrant seeking our services."

"Exactly, the whole thing just stinks of a set-up. We should just take what we can and leave early before it all rots and turns into a stagnant pool of bat intentions. I mean, you know that they're expecting someone else to turn up and try and do your job for you right? And not the kind of people that play nice with others, the kind that would sooner kill the man sitting next to them as exchange pleasantries with them." the thing in his left hand pointed out.

"Yes. They're hoping that we encounter them." the pale-faced man replied, adding no lilt to his voice that would betray whether he was worried, angry, pleased, upset, confused, intrigued or had any significant emotion on the matter at all, his face remaining expressionless as he let all of the information in his head be sift through his mind, taking what looked like a small colourless orb out of one of the hidden pockets on his person and dropping it into the cup of water, the sphere instantly dissolving and turning the liquid a deep blood-red.

"And why the hell would they want that?" his left hand replied, "Haven't you already done enough small jobs for them that they know you can handle things discreetly? Suddenly pushing us out into the open and announcing their presence doesn't seem like something that would work to their advantage at this stage. The world may still be wounded but it's far from defenceless, and as much as you might like to argue otherwise, we don't want to alert you-know-who what we're doing if we still want to have any hope of getting this entire hair-brained plan of theirs carried out without anyone else noticing."

"They want to start another war between Iscariot and Hellsing." the dark haired man replied to the sentient being in his left hand, deftly picking up the cup by the handle and taking a leisurely sip of its contents, the copper-ish tasting liquid travelling down his throat as he relaxed a little more into the chair.

"Oh boy. So they want to set both of their biggest threats at each other's throats then feast on the carcasses left behind? Huh, they'd have to be pretty dumb to believe that a ploy like that would hold for very long. These aren't blind men we're fighting, they're people who have spent their lives hunting down the most deadly creatures on the planet and each other. Heck, they'd probably see right through it and just send in their big guns just to teach us a lesson. It could make finding any down-time problematic. Even if their pathetic plan succeeds, we both know that he will be the one standing on the pile of bodies when it's over."

"Precisely." the dark haired man said in response, pausing to take another sip from his still warm cup before he explained. "They plan to use us as a scapegoat, making the enemy perceive us as their greatest weapon rather than him. We're simply a placeholder until their task is done, and then they will attempt to discard us. When that moment comes, we will rid ourselves and the world of them and move on."

"I see. You realise that this will most likely mean we'll be fighting against both Hellsing and Iscariot until this big unveiling of theirs happens right, and after that we'll just end up fighting all three sides just to save our own hides? Hello?" the voice responded, getting slightly irate as the seconds ticked by in silence, "Look I know you're still awake, you're not fooling me, I'm literally a part of you, remember? I can hear your thoughts if I try hard enough. Are you listening? *Sigh* Whatever. You better make sure to ask for additional pay for a long-term contract if they don't get this done soon, and get paid in advance this time. Money isn't something we're short of but it doesn't hurt to have some to spare, you know? Especially if it's basket-cases like these guys paying for it, leaves less for them to screw themselves over with."

With this, the symbiotic creature's 'face' began to sink back into the man's pale-skinned palm like it was never there, the smooth skin shifting meticulously as the mouth re-sealed itself and the eye's dissipated without a single solitary wrinkle observable on his hand just a few short seconds later, a non-committal hum the only sound that came from the man's lips as he went back to silently finishing his warm drink.

He thought of the strange fair-haired lady that he had encountered in France, and the way that her demeanour had been so contradictory to what she was, the strange feeling of a an aura like hers only bearing a single additional bonded soul, while other of her kind consumed them like gluttons. Her presence was instantly familiar and yet so unique, there could be no question as to who had sired her, but the fact she seemed to have retained so much of herself afterwards was truly intriguing. He hoped to meet her again someday after all of what was coming had passed, to talk with her and find out how she managed to deal with the thirst so successfully despite being a full-blooded Vampire.

For the moment, he dismissed this and let his thoughts drift where they may, not wanting to waste a brief moment of silence while he still had one. Just a few short hours and he would be lucky if he could sit anywhere for an extended period of time, so he decided to just enjoy it for now. As the bright moon-light crept slowly along the floor with the passage of time, the man remained silent and stoic as the grave, his enchanting eyes closed and his hands resting on the arms of the chair as the minutes counted down towards what could possibly turn out to be one of the most pivotal moments in history.

Whether that was for better or worse remained to be seen. A new world was coming very soon, and those few left ready to defend the old one had no idea of what lay ahead of them. Soon the only things that would remain constant would be the sun and the moon rising and falling in the sky just as they always had done.

As the moonlight finally reached the desk next to the black-clad man, it alighted on a small ornately carved wooden box about the size used to keep duelling pistols in the days where pride still held such over-priced value amongst men. On the lid was embossed a single letter in pure polished silver, taking up most of the top of the box by itself, a clear statement of the identity of its owner and a warning to any who would try and touch what was inside of how unwise such an idea would be. Out of idle interest, the light-skinned man turned and looked at that single embossed letter, images of the days before and after he got that name flashing through his mind, what it stood for, what it meant to him, and would soon mean to others.

'D'.