Fourth Chapter! Enjoy!
Seras ran as fast as she could. With every ounce of strength her dead body had to offer she flung herself against the laws of physics, propelling herself forward. She burst through the doors of the mansion and nearly pummelled into a researcher moving a trolley of chemicals.
"Sorry!" she cried behind her as she continued on, racing up the endless flights of steps to where she knew the infirmary was. She had never been as scared and upset as she was then.
Oh, please, let him be all right! She prayed, finding the glass doors and wrenching them open.
Inside, Integra, Alucard and the bodyguard were assembled around a hospital bed. On the bed lay Malcolm, his chest stripped bare of clothes and instead wrapped in bloodstained bandages.
"Oh, Malcolm!" Seras gasped at the sight of the wound. Through the thin bandages she could see a gaping wound from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist, carefully stitched together by black threads.
"It's all right." Malcolm assured her, though his voice was weaker than usual. "Just a flesh wound, nothing serious."
"Nothing serious?! You look like a gutted fish!" she cried, rushing to his bedside and grabbing his hand. "Who did this to you?! I swear I'll skin them alive!"
"Alucard managed to capture the assailant before he escaped. We're holding him for questioning." Integra answered, and Seras turned to look at Alucard, who was leaning against a wall with his arms folded. He looked very uninterested with the whole thing.
"He tried to jump me with a knife as I was going to get breakfast." Malcolm explained, his face taking on an uncharacteristic scowl. "An uglier vampire, I've never met. Not particularly bright, either. Luckily, Alucard saved my skin and grabbed the little weasel when he left me for dead. I owe you one, Alucard."
Alucard found Seras looking at him with a mixed expression of gratitude and suspicion, a look he returned only with a grim stare. He wasn't in the habit of rescuing humans, particularly ones he hated, but Integra had told him to protect Malcolm and so he would. Even though he really wanted to finish the job himself. But he could settle for the worm being indebted to him, for now at least.
Walter and Joshua came in, both breathing heavily. They had tried to keep up with Seras's inhuman speed, but had failed miserably.
"Is he-" Joshua began.
"He's fine." Integra replied, irritably.
"Dr. Crane has complete control of the situation." Malcolm told him, gesturing to a man standing off to the side, pulling out medical supplies.
He had medium-length black hair, tied in a loose ponytail at his neck, with tiny spectacles perched on his nose. He was also clean-shaven, and it added to his youthful look, along with the kind face of an innocent individual. He had told Seras his age, once, and it was thirty, but he said it with such a peculiar face that it left her pondering his past to this day. He always seemed to remind Seras of a librarian rather than a doctor, or perhaps a kindly professor.
He wrenched his head up from the pile and turned around to face them.
"Hello, everyone." Dr. Crane greeted them cheerfully, as if seeing them for the first time. "You don't need to worry, Mr. Porter will be fine in a few days. The cut wasn't deep, just bloody. But, for his sake, I think you should let him rest."
A woman appeared at the door to usher them out. This woman was the complete opposite of Dr. Crane; she had dark red hair and vibrantly green eyes, and where Dr. Crane's face was gentle hers seemed like cold steel.
She was also, as Seras had learned long ago, unable to speak.
"I'll let you know when you can visit." Dr. Crane assured them, his kind face giving Seras a little comfort. "Miranda, would you come over here, please? I'd like you to clean these bandages for me while I fetch some more antiseptic."
They reluctantly left the room, leaving Malcolm to Dr. Crane's care.
Seras sighed, relieved that Malcolm was away from death's doorstep. She didn't know what she'd have done if the assassin had succeeded in his dreadful mission. She could not understand how anyone could wish harm to such a gentle, fatherly man, but she was determined to find out.
"Where is he?" she demanded of Integra as the door shut. She was so filled with livid rage that she cared not to whom she spoke, or how her words left her lips. All she wanted was to exact vengeance on the trash that dared hurt her kindly mentor. "If I don't see him right now, I'll-"
"Do nothing." Integra snapped, cutting off Seras's threat with an icy glance. "We're interrogating him right now, and in order to do that we need him conscious."
"May we at least see the interrogation?" Joshua asked tentatively, hesitant to enrage two already aggravated women. "I mean, since Malcolm can't supervise, and we're his only available employees…"
Integra considered the request, then replied,
"All right. Come with me."
The first thing Seras noticed about the vampire when she entered the dimly lit interrogation room was how ugly he was. He was short, for one thing, as if stunted somehow. His limbs were long and disgustingly thin, not a shred of muscle present. His skin was not the noble paleness of a proper vampire, but a ghastly shade of grey that reminded Seras of dirty laundry, and was only accentuated by the arcane symbols tattooed in vivid lines of purple. He was bald, his head malformed to the shape of an egg. In fact, the only things that distinguished him as a vampire were his white, sharp teeth and red eyes.
Of course, vampires did not automatically have red eyes. Seras had seen vampires with orange, green, yellow and sometimes even purple eye colours. It had a lot to do with who one's sire is, and what kind of DNA one has. Red just happened to be one of the colours associated with vampires of higher lineage.
The vampire wore a black, sleeveless coat, which immediately signalled the vampire had to be from somewhere nearby. Walking out in daylight wearing clothes like that would mean certain doom, even for Seras. He must not have expected to be here long.
Truth be told, he looked sort of like a larval form of Incognito.
"Damn you, infidels!" he screeched at them without reservation. "You filthy human dogs!"
"I'll take that as a compliment, coming from trash like you." Integra replied, smirking down at him. The only ones to come here were Joshua, Integra and Seras. Alucard was thoroughly bored and wanted to sleep, and Walter was busy with his daytime duties. The vampire was kept in the chair with silver chains, and he was not happy about it.
"What is your name?" Integra demanded.
"I'll tell you nothing, Hellsing cur!"
Seras studied the vampire for a moment, and then kneeled to stare him face to face.
"Okay," Seras began, keeping her voice smooth and free of frustration. "I can understand your dislike of humans. I know someone who thinks like that too."
The vampire didn't belt out a string of insults this time, but he still didn't look too convinced.
"But I'm a vampire, too, so would you talk to me instead?" Seras asked, giving him her most innocent look. Offering the fact she was a vampire was meant to serve as common ground, invaluable when confronting fanatics.
The vampire eyed her suspiciously, his mind seeming to teem with thoughts. Then, to Seras's slight disgust, he sniffed her, as if checking for some undetectable odour that would signal her trustworthiness, or lack thereof.
"You smell familiar." He noted, tilting his head to study her quizzically. "Who is your sire?"
Seras hesitated. Was it wise to tell this vampire that her sire was the one who captured him, or that he was an infamous vampire slayer? Probably not.
"No one you know personally, I don't think." No lie there. "Would you tell me your name?"
"Ormith." He replied, then as an afterthought, "You infidel."
"My name is Seras Victoria. Pleased to meet you." She said easily, becoming less angry with the vampire. It was obvious he was not very smart, and was merely following orders from someone else. She could vent her rage on his superior, instead.
At the mention of her name Ormith tensed, and leaned off the back of his chair to get closer.
"Seras? Blood-kin of the Betrayer, Alucard?" he demanded, his voice an imitation of a snake's angry hissing.
"Hey, egghead!" Joshua interrupted, hitting Ormith on the head lightly with his fist. "We're askin' the questions here, not you, ugly."
"Joshua!" Seras hissed, slapping his hand instinctively. For some odd reason, she had no desire to hurt Ormith. She turned back to their captive and replied, "Yes, Alucard is my sire."
Ormith seemed to freeze in place. His red eyes bulged, and he suddenly flung himself forward onto the floor, bringing the chair with him. Seras was so surprised she jumped backwards.
"Forgive me!" Ormith exclaimed, on his knees and apparently trying to bow at her feet. "I have called you blasphemies and shamed myself before all Nosferatu! You, darkest of shadows, beloved of all damned creatures! To die at your hand would be to great an honour for my filthy corpse to bear!"
Seras glanced nervously at everyone else, who were just as dumbfounded as she was. Integra chewed her cigar irritably, unsure of how react to such an unusual act of prostration.
"Um," Seras began, kneeling and patting his head hesitantly, "There, there. I forgive you, so please get up. I would like you to answer a couple questions, and it's terribly awkward talking to someone with their face in the dirt."
Ormith immediately flung himself backwards with his torso, the momentum bringing the chair upright once more.
"I would do just that, milady, but I am under oath to reveal nothing. Not even to your Unholiness." Ormith said, keeping his eyes lowered to the floor in reverence, which only disconcerted Seras more.
"However, I was told that should I meet your Unholiness, I should deliver this message." Ormith added, leaning forward and ignoring Joshua and Integra. He tilted his neck so he was as close as he could get, gesturing for her to come closer. Seras bent so he could whisper into her ear.
"The Black Knight is coming," he hissed, "for you, my No-Life Queen."
Her eyes widened at his words. For a moment Seras thought the words were not Ormith's at all, and instead she heard a voice so sharp and inhuman and evil but also beautiful, like the shattering of glass. It mesmerized her, and a part of her she didn't know existed burst forth to greet the sound, cradling it in her heart and imprinting it in her memory. She fell backwards onto the ground, her eyes half-closed, in a state of inner turmoil.
"And he shall cleanse the world of the traitorous Hellsing dog, his human master, and every mortal who sides with him!" Ormith crowed, this time loud enough for everyone else to hear. "With him shall come the flames of hell, and he shall scour the land of England with his blade! The era of death is upon us, and all shall succumb to it, for the Bloody Monarchs and their faithful make it so! Purity's Blood prevails!"
"Get this filthy vampire out of my sight!" Integra screamed at the guards waiting outside. "I want him gone this INSTANT!"
Joshua knelt and tried to wake Seras as the guards dragged Ormith away, who kept screaming profanities until they stuffed a large rubber block in his mouth, partly to keep him from biting and partly to shut him up. Seras just sat, totally numb.
"Are you all right, Police girl?" Integra questioned, the words spat through gritted teeth. The vampire's words were the equivalent of a demonic prophesy, and were deeply unsettling, even to her.
Seras didn't answer. She stared at the floor, her red eyes glowing with the same intensity as during battle, where her vampire instincts took over.
"Seras!" Joshua persisted, shaking her shoulder. The movement jolted Seras awake, and she glanced at them in confusion.
"What happened?" she asked, her hand pressed against her forehead. It ached horribly.
"You just kinda… well, fell. And you went a little sleepy-eyed on us." Joshua explained, swinging her arm over his shoulder to lift her up. "How long has it been since you had blood, or slept, for that matter?"
"I haven't had blood in a couple days, since before I came. And sleep wasn't really an option, what with Malcolm and Ormith…"
"You're going to drink two packs of blood and then you're going to sleep. We don't want cranky, hungry vampires running around, do we? Atta girl…" Joshua said, letting her lean on him as they made for the door.
"Police girl."
Seras looked at Integra, who came up to her and searched her face.
"Are you wearing lipstick, Police girl?" she asked, her face serious.
"Huh?" The question took her by surprise, even in her slightly muddled state. How could that be relevant to what had happened? Seras touched her lips. Nothing there.
"Hey, they are kind of red, aren't they?" Joshua said, then quickly added, "Not that I look at them a lot, or anything."
Seras couldn't see her lips, but at this point she didn't particularly care about lip colour. It was late into the morning, and she wanted to sleep.
She and Joshua left, leaving Integra standing in the room, smoking her cigar.
Alucard. Integra thought, sending out her mind's silent command.
Yes, master? The reply was almost immediate, despite the fact Integra knew he had been sleeping and was probably very grumpy about being woken up.
I suggest you take care of your fledgling. If I suspect that she might become a threat, you know what I will be forced to do.
Alucard laughed inside her mind, the sound never failing to make her uneasy.
You need not order me to do what I was already intending to do, master. This will provide her with a much-needed reminder as to who is in charge around here. The proverbial two birds with one stone.
Is that your wounded pride talking? Integra inquired, smirking. I'm starting to wonder just how deep she's buried under your skin.
This time, Alucard offered no snide remark. It was a rare occurrence, and Integra enjoyed it.
Just remember the agreement, Alucard. She thought, not without a hint of triumph.
You'd do well to remember your side of it, Master Integra. He snapped, with surprisingly more venom than usual.
With that, Alucard's voice was gone, leaving Integra once again alone and not without a triumphant smile. It was nice to shut him up, for once.
Seras sighed. There was a certain irony to her situation; the one time she really needed to get in a coffin, it was extremely hard to do. Why couldn't vampires have chosen a bed without a heavy lid?
Such was her grievance as she valiantly tried to pry off the coffin's lid, only to have it firmly shut against her wishes. It seemed as if the entire world had set out on a quest that involved her pain and unhappiness. But of course she immediately pushed such thoughts away, disgusted with herself.
I'm a respectable British-Canadian vampire, dammit! I won't let myself sit around and mope!
With renewed vigour she managed to get the lid off, and found the welcoming white silk a worthy reward for her efforts. It wasn't as dusty as she'd thought it'd be, being one of Alucard's spares, but she dearly missed the reassuring metal one she'd had. It made her feel more like being in a car than a death-box, and the lid opened on voice-command. She hoped Joshua would fix it soon.
She was about to climb in when her eyes caught on the two blood bags encased in an ice bucket on the table to her right. She had forgotten all about it, so great was her desire for sleep. But now her eyes flared hungrily and the coffin was forgotten.
She grabbed one of the bags drank thirstily, sating her stomach and turning to the box near the coffin, the bag still in her mouth. The box was filled with the things Malcolm had brought; her clothes, books, and everything else she owned. She had emptied out her apartment before she left Hellsing, not wishing to see Hellsing ransack her belongings at her disappearance.
She walked over, blood bag in hand, and began to sift through it, pulling out a set of photographs. Most featured Seras and her father, and she placed these lovingly on her dresser. She also put her mother and father's wedding photo beside them and one of her D-11 squad when she was a policewoman. She looked through them tenderly, thinking fondly of her family and friends.
"Reminiscing, Police girl?"
She didn't even bother to turn around this time. She knew perfectly well who it was, and didn't feel all that up to dealing with his antics.
"I thought you were sleeping." She said, keeping her eyes glued to the wall above the dresser.
"I was." Alucard replied, his voice deep and even. "Why? Do you enjoy my absences so much?"
She turned around and stared him square in the face. The first thing she noticed was that his glasses and hat were missing, leaving his pale face and red eyes quite exposed, but for his black hair. Her heart fluttered slightly at his sudden open appearance, a reaction she quickly killed by calling up the memory of their last conversation.
"Yes, actually." She sniffed, brushing past him to pick up her cardboard box. "Now, I'm just about ready for bed. And I'd appreciate another one of your absences, if you don't mind."
He smirked, and she held in a scowl. It was clear he had no intention of leaving, which meant he wanted something from her. Was he so bored he had to get up in the middle of the day, just to torment her?
"You ask too much of me, Police girl. My curiosity has been quite demanding as of late, and I find myself unable to please both it and you." He said, gracefully falling into one of the mahogany chairs and crossing his legs. Keeping his eyes on her, he leisurely plucked the second bag of blood from the bucket and held it aloft, taunting her with it.
"Give that back." She growled, her voice menacing. The blood didn't really entice her that much, but his condescending attitude was quickly irritating her. Her coffin was beckoning, and he was impeding her much-needed sleep.
"Not so fast." He rested his head on the knuckles of his other hand, sneering smugly at her frowning face. "Now, if you agree to be the good little fledgling I know you can be, and do as I say, I might find it within me to relinquish this very tasty-looking packet of blood."
Seras remembered what Malcolm told her about getting along with Alucard. She knew her pride and personal feelings were becoming an obstacle to Malcolm's mission and her own happiness, so she made a solemn decision to just let Alucard have his way. She already knew what kind of reaction he wanted, and giving him this victory might make him leave her alone.
"All right." She sighed, reluctantly giving up. It hurt, but this was the only way to settle things. "What do you want from me… master?"
Alucard's eyes widened in surprise. The last thing he had expected was a full-blown surrender. To be perfectly honest, he was rather looking forward to her stubborn resistance, but now he became suspicious.
"Why the sudden change of heart, Police girl?"
"I figure I owe you." She replied, poking through the box for something. "I mean, you saved Malcolm from that vampire, and anyway, arguing with you just ends up with me getting humiliated. So I thought: what the heck, just give him what he wants and move on."
He eyed her sceptically. Her logic was certainly understandable, but he found it highly unlikely that she actually held any respect for him. That slime she called master had probably put her up to this, which angered him, but he controlled himself. Whatever the reason, she was agreeing to do as he wished, and it was a considerable victory.
Seras pulled out a baby-blue fleece blanket and put it in the coffin, turning to look at Alucard. He was still watching her, and his expressionless face made her uneasy.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Why did you leave?" he asked, resting his head on his fist and keeping his straight face. Seras's eyes widened.
His question was not unexpected. She had done a fair job of avoiding it up until now, but she supposed there was no use running from it. The best choice would be to get it over with, and put it behind them.
As logical as that sounded, in her mind she remembered the face of a little pale-faced girl screaming for her parents, and she knew he would never understand.
"I didn't like how Hellsing does things. I hate how they kill before asking questions, and show no mercy to anyone, human or not. In my mind, I see Hellsing as the true scum of the earth." She replied, keeping her eyes on his.
"Integra probably told you I let a vampire escape on my last mission at Hellsing. I let her go because she was a child."
Alucard remained silent, so she continued,
"We were sent in to purify a group of vampires that had been ratted out by a vampire we found earlier. We assumed they were feeding off civilians, but it wasn't till later that we discovered one worked at a blood bank and was sneaking out blood packs.
"When we went in we killed whoever we saw, which ended up being a husband and wife. We had expected something like the pair of vampires you and I killed on my first night out, but they weren't anything like that. They didn't even have a gun."
Seras lowered her eyes, remembering the screams. They had been innocent people, vampire or not, and totally defenceless. She also remembered the soldiers' whooping laughter and cheers, as if somehow they had triumphed over them…
"I went upstairs by myself. It was there that I saw her."
Pale skin. Bloody tears raining down her face. She had been huddled in a corner, clutching a piece of paper in her trembling hand. She recalled thinking; this is what Hellsing calls a monster? How can anything so tiny and frail be a monster?
Seras saw monsters as things that killed innocents without remorse, enjoyed others' pain and lived each day with the desire to harm. But, according to Hellsing, monsters were intelligent, thinking creatures that weren't human. To be fair to them, many inhuman creatures were evil, but they included those who were weak and did no harm. There just wasn't any discretion between evil vampires and good ones; just ones who worked for Hellsing and those who didn't.
"She was so young and weak. I couldn't find it in myself to shoot her."
"A beginners mistake." Alucard interrupted, and she glanced at him sharply. "Just because she looked young doesn't necessarily make her a child. You should know that, Police girl."
Well, he hadn't seen her crying and calling out for her parents. Otherwise, he'd know there was no way this child was mature.
"I told her I wouldn't hurt her, and then I kicked open a window for her to escape through. It led to an alleyway that Hellsing wasn't patrolling, because they knew I was on the job.
"Before she jumped out, she told me she and her parents were planning to escape to a Canadian vampire reserve owned by Malcolm Porter. Then she told me the address she was to meet these people who would get them out of England, and then she left."
She sighed and promptly settled into the chair across from Alucard. She wasn't sure whether or not he was actually paying attention; he didn't move at all, except for his eyes, which bored into hers every time she dared to look up. And she didn't have enough courage to see whether his eyes were interested or bored, because she felt very vulnerable when looking into them, as if her soul was an open book to him. This seemed very unfair, that she should be so cut off from his thoughts when hers were at his disposal.
"Well?" he asked, his voice impatient and bringing Seras back from her thoughts. He had decided not to sift through her mind beforehand, wanting to hear her submit her memories to him of her own accord, but it was very tempting to simply rip the information from her brain and get the whole thing over with. After all, it was his sleep this ordeal interrupted as well, and every moment she stalled he lost much-desired rest.
"I guess I was mad at what we did to that poor girl, and I decided that I didn't want to exist for the purpose of killing whoever Hellsing wanted me to. So when we got back home, I snuck into the storeroom and stole a few blood bags when no one was looking, and waited until morning to run away."
"I assume you waited until morning so I wouldn't catch you in the act."
"Well, yes."
Alucard wondered if he could trust her words, and ultimately decided there was no chance she'd lie to him. After all, their minds were connected and she knew if she dared lie, all he'd have to do was check her thoughts and she'd be caught. Besides, her story seemed quite probable; she had always been very sentimental and emotional about such things, and although he thought it hindering he also found it… refreshing, in a way. Being surrounded by merciless killers and hunters for so long, himself included, made finding an individual who actually regretted killing others an unfamiliar concept.
It made little sense to him, that someone should bear burdens down upon themselves for ensuring their own survival. Does the snake shed tears for its latest meal? Do humans grieve for the animals they frequently slaughter to feed themselves? Of course not. The strong consume the weak, be it for food or battle. Alucard did not kill out of hate, but to keep himself alive. If he harboured any reservations about battle at all, they would be merely that he enjoyed the clash of power and flesh, and the immediate triumph over another. But can't that be said of any other?
Apparently not of Seras. She held herself back, clinging to the ghosts of the dead and destroyed. He had no doubt that, if she were release these feeble fantasies of a false humanity, she would become a worthy Nosferatu.
And he would do anything and everything to make sure that happened.
"I must be a terrible nuisance to you." She said softly, and it jarred him from his inner reverie to regard her with scornful interest.
"I mean," she continued, waving about a hand for emphasis, "I always screw up. I've only just recently started drinking blood, and I hate fighting. I've seen ladybugs meaner than I am!"
She sighed dramatically and slumped into the chair, letting her eyes wander about, focusing on anything but him. It was then that she saw it.
Alucard noticed as Seras's eyes widened in fear, staring at something behind him. His first thought was that the scum vampire had managed to escape, but his senses told him otherwise. As far as he could tell, there was nothing behind him.
"What is it, Police girl?"
She forced out an incoherent squeak and pointed behind him, at the wall.
"It's a-a-"
"Spit it out!" he snarled, ready to swivel about at any moment.
"SPIDER!" she shrieked, her face a contortion of fear.
Seras was pointing to a spider perched on the wall, a fair metre away and virtually harmless. It was black, and considerably sized as far as spiders go, but nonetheless, a spider. Alucard didn't even bother to turn around, he was too busy rubbing his forehead in frustration.
"Yes, it's a spider." He said nonchalantly, although he felt as if he'd lost all respect for his fledgling.
"B-but it's a spider!" she protested, her words stuttered. "I hate spiders!"
If looks could kill, his would have taken her on a one-way tour through the bowels of hell. She shrank from his icy glare, but was not totally discouraged.
"Just let me get a bit of tissue pa-"
Before she could finish, Alucard had whipped out his Jackal and fired a single bullet over his shoulder, effectively splattering the poor eight-legged arachnid all over the wall. The gunshot echoed down the hallway, and Seras was sure everyone in the Hellsing mansion heard it.
She stared at him, mouth agape, while he slipped the gun back into his coat with a satisfied grunt.
"Shall we move on?" he asked, once again raising the bag of blood. "I believe we still have a conversation going, if I recall."
Her eyes flickered from him to the spider, then back to him.
"Y-you shot it."
"Yes, I believe that's been well-established. Any more obvious statements?"
"No, I don't think so." She replied, her face flushed with shame. She'd made an idiot of herself yet again. Why did she always freak out when he was around?
"Good." He said smoothly, and tossed the bag of blood to her. She caught it, a little surprised he had handed it over so easily.
"Drink it. Now. I want you to be in perfect condition tonight." He said, his voice taking on the air of authority she had once adored, but now loathed. "That vampire you were talking to was… persuaded into telling us of a hang-out for trash vampires, and you're coming with me to kill them."
"Wait, I'll have to ask Malcolm-" she interrupted, but at her words he immediately stood and strode to her chair, surprising her. She clutched the blood-bag to her chest, feeling dread and fear wash over her.
He leaned down and murmured darkly, "Tell me, Police girl, just who is your master?"
She shifted uncomfortably and replied, "You are."
"And, as your master, it is my approval that you should seek, not his." His eyes flickered to the blood-bag she held so dearly. "I thought I told you to drink that."
She tightened her grip on it and stared back up at him, furious defiance once again rising inside her. What, she had to drink it the moment he said so?!
"Yes, actually." He growled, and she realized he had read her thoughts. Even worse, her mind's anger summoned up countless insults against her will, and she knew without hesitation he could hear them.
"I don't need you to tell me when to feed, Master Alucard." She said, an edge of anger on her tongue. "In case you hadn't noticed, I did well enough on my own this past year. Better, even."
His eyes narrowed, and she knew she had done it now. A part of her screamed,
Why, oh why can't I keep my damn mouth shut?!
One of his arms suddenly slammed into the back of the chair, just beside her head, not even giving her enough time to blink. His body now loomed over hers, trapping her in the confines of the chair. His other hand wrenched the bag from her hands and tore into the sealed opening with a white fang.
"Master, what are you doing?!" she cried, feeling cornered. He didn't smile at her fear, for only an angry glare greeted her, that and another emotion she couldn't recognize.
"I've grown tired of your insolence." He answered with a snarl, pressing the opening of the bag against her lips. "You will do as I say. Now drink."
"I'm not thirsty." She said, turning her head away from the bag. He reacted with a growl of frustration, taking hand from the chair and grabbing her jaw, pulling it firmly so she faced him. Then he took the blood-bag and forced it into her mouth, pressing so the blood filled her throat. She tried to resist, but found her arms glued to the chair by an invisible force, so all she could do was swallow the coppery liquid.
Alucard wanted to throttle her. One moment she was timid and eager to please, the next she was stubborn as a mule and infuriating. Even more confusing was that he wasn't sure exactly how he wanted her to act; obedience was a double-edged blade, for on one hand she'd do everything he said, but on the other hand she would become dependent on him. Her stubbornness certainly kept him from having her do as he said, but it also set his concerns for her independence at ease.
He did know that he wanted her respect. She could fight it all she liked, but it would not change the fact he was her master, from now until he decided to release her. No more would he allow her to fawn over the human, or anyone else but himself. He had no desire to hurt her, but her defiance was testing his self-control. If she wanted to do things the hard way, he would not deny her.
Seras felt herself slipping into her own vampiric blood-lust, wanting to bite and tear and claw, but another feeling rose up in her. She found herself staring hungrily at Alucard's neck, even though the bag was still in her mouth and not yet empty. Alucard noticed, his evil smile returning.
"It seems you're thirsty after all." He said, and she glanced at his face, her voice of reason returning to power. His hand gently tugged the bag from her mouth, and she did not resist. His red eyes held hers for an instant, before his grin grew wider and he leaned closer, his face coming dangerously near to hers.
"As much as you test my patience, my little fledgling, you also amuse me to no end."
His mouth came within an inch of hers, and Seras was suddenly overcome with a torrent of strange and heated emotions. She blushed a deep shade of red but did not move, half out of fear and half out of anticipation, for what she could not understand.
"I will not allow you to run away again, you realize." He crooned, and her eyes widened. "You belong to me. And I will not give you up so easily."
Alucard's words made her angry all over again. With a furious growl she tried to kick him, but he just dodged it, chuckling and pulling away.
"How many times must I tell you?!" she screeched, leaping to her feet. "I'm not yours! I'm not anybody's!
"Why can't you understand I'm not your plaything?!"
"Ah, but you are." Alucard said, making his way to the nearest wall. He began to melt into it once again, leaving her there to stare. "The sooner you understand that, the sooner you'll realize that resisting me is a foolish and futile effort."
He gave her one last grin before saying, "See you tonight, draculina."
He disappeared, and Seras stood there, angry, confused and frustrated.
How could he be so cruel and coercing and still invoke feelings of wanting to please him? Half of her wanted to gut him with a pickaxe, and the other wanted his praise and approval. Her body was so filled with emotions she thought she might break.
She moaned in frustration and fell into the dark confines of her new coffin, closing it with a satisfying thunk.
Plaything, huh? Well, we'll see about that! She thought pulling the fleece blanket over her body and smirking. I'll show him I'm not the weak little fledgling I was.
I'll show them all.
"I bring good news, Supreme One."
The figure seated at the chess table quirked their shadowed head.
"Good news? Pray tell, dear one."
"It seems your pawn infiltrated the enemy ranks and delivered the message you entrusted him with." The first figure replied, slightly nervous.
"I take it the enemy rook was not taken?" the second asked, taking the corresponding white rook in her fingers.
"No, Supreme One. He's injured, but alive."
"Ah, well," the second figure waved their other hand dismissively, "not all campaigns are totally successful. But she was contacted, correct?"
"Yes. Ormith also gave them the address of the meeting point, under pretence of reluctance, of course."
The seated figure picked up a tiny, black pawn situated on the opposite side of the board, among the white pieces. She stroked it gently, almost motherly, before dropping it on the floor. It shattered into a million tiny, ebony pieces.
"Before the Black Knight does his duty, I want Ormith dealt with. His purpose has been fulfilled."
"Yes, but…"
"But?" the seated figure asked.
"It seems a priest from the Vatican has caught wind of the situation. He's also heading to the rendezvous point." The first figure answered uncertainly.
"Excellent!" the second figure said. "I could not have asked for better fortune!"
The figure held out her hand, and there formed a tiny, golden piece from thin air. She placed it in front of a white knight and another odd-looking piece, shaped in the form of a tiny, crowned woman.
"While the Queen's Knight is distracted with this new Gold Bishop," the figure said, picking up another piece, "their precious Ebony Princess shall be whisked from underneath their noses!"
The piece she placed in front of the princess was a black knight. However, it was hard to tell that it was a knight because the top was completely missing, showing only a horse's neck.
"Dearest one, I trust you to this task. Make sure the Black Knight does no harm to our Ebony Princess." The second figure ordered.
"As you wish, Supreme One."
Reviews are very much like chips. You can't have just one, and the flaming ones get thrown out the window!