Chapter 7:
Alucard
A/N: Hey, me again, I'm writing this the night I sent the last chapter to Marie so...15th May, but I'll probably update it after June. I've been doing maths ALL DAY, so I'm really peeved off, it seems the only fun i get out of life at the moment is writing, and that's only because I'm being someone else, talking differently etc etc. But it's fun. Sorry, being morbid ¬¬ don't hate me. I'll be quick about it. Thank you again, Marie! I understand that my excessive writing is killing you so I created a special concoction that will make your fingers tpye and think for you, so you may sleep but type :P pours green-sludgey liquid into a beaker wearing Einstein-esque clothes If you dreeenk zsis you vill become imenssleeeee progressif, you vill vork harder and faster zsan befooore. (crap accent, or what?) Can't wait for the next chapter of tattoo, for those that don't know, tattoo is an AMAZING fanfiction written by cleverplane AKA jen, who is about as crazy as me and can write reaaaaaaally well. Marie also betas her, and you may stumble upon absurd little conversation, this is normal, you are not going crazy- they might eb though XD. But yeah, look her up! she rocks!
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Molly sat in the kitchen, rotating her shoulder and flexing her fingers. I was expecting a much more dejected looking figure, perhaps wearing her arm in a sling with her fingers done up to heal well. But, instead, she had taken off her bandages and sat flexing the fingers incessantly. The sling and pieces of tape and splints cast aside on the black marble counter-top like pieces of useless rubbish, "Feeling better?" I asked, Molly did not flinch at the suddenness of my appearance, she seemed completely indifferent and uncaring to my presence.
She ignored me, carrying on with her finger flexes, "Shouldn't you rest your fingers, to make sure they heal properly?"
"They'll heal fine, I refuse to believe my body won't keep up with me." Molly glanced up, an indignant glare set on her features, her eyes dark but rather weary. She had changed her clothes and wore her pale blue overcoat, white strap t-shirt, long white flowing skirt and top hat, her blood red hair tied up in a braid and worn over her shoulder as if she had only just completed the braid, thus explaining why she had removed the splints and tape.
"You have regained use of them?" I offered to have a look, she shrugged and allowed me to turn her hand this way and that. The bruising had subsided, the bones supposedly back in place and all that showed of there breakages were the tell-tale red lines of the tight tape ad splints.
I turned her hand over, her palm facing upwards and paused noticing small spidery black veins running up along her fingers form her palm, they seemed to quiver and stretch before my very eyes and Blue, noticing my discovery, snatched her hand back; her jaw flinched in agitation. "Izzy tells me you had a fit-"
"It was not a 'fit.'" She hissed, silence ensued.
"A spasm then? A seizure? A contraction?"
"Shut up." She growled quietly, shoving her hands into her pockets and pulling on black lace gloves, roughly donning them as she growled under her breath.
"No one tells me what to do, Molly, no one except my master,"
"Then I advise you to shut your mouth before I sew it shut!" She exclaimed, her head snapping upwards, eyes firmly shut with the vehement rage catapulted from her lips, spittle flew from her lips and her jaw flinched at an increasing rate. She inhaled a shuddering breath, waiting for my retort, my blow or retaliation as her head bowed again and she seemed to be panting.
My lips twitched into a slow smile, "Sew my lips shuts?" I asked, I laughed hard, "Do you have a needle and thread hidden in your coat?" Molly's mouth twitched into a slow smile.
"No, I was thinking about using my shoelaces and hairpin." She answered haughtily, realising how silly her threat had been without the needed equipment to act upon it. "I'm sorry, Red, I shouldn't take this out on you..." She sighed.
"Would you like a drink?"
"No, thank you." She answered quietly.
"Pain killer?" I asked, awaiting her obvious reaction, a smirk playing on my lips at her expense. Her head snapped up and her eyes were wide. "It's quite obvious you're in pain, whether it is from the bullet wound, the bite or the broken fingers I do not know." I glanced at her back, "Or maybe it's none of those..." I added at seeing the tell-tale dots of burgundy and black at her back, the slightly septic smell shortly following.
"You observe and see too much, Red." She sighed again, hands balled up into fists in her lap, "My wounds are opening again, yes, that is why I'm in pain and that's why I...lashed out earlier and..." She had to spit this out- "had a fit in the infirmary. Last time they opened, my mother bathed them in this...liquid, I don't know what it was but it closed them up quick enough. She said it was the Blood of the master….whatever that means." Blood of the master? Molly jumped down from the stool and strode over to the terrace doors, hands clasped behind her back in a respectful pose. She leant against the doorway of the terrace doors gingerly and folded her arms.
"Couldn't you have one of our doctors look at them? They are very discreet, most supernatural wounds are healed by them." Molly shook her head.
"I hate doctors,"
"Do they scare you?" A smile turned my lips, Molly, who seemed fearless, scared by a profession!
"I am scared of very little, I simply do not trust the awful buggers." I laughed, joining her at the window and pushing the doors open, let the crisp night air of the cusp of spring flood into the room, the refreshing smell of dew and some early blooming flowers circulated the room pleasantly. Molly stepped out onto the terrace, the flagstones producing a low whimper as her boots thudded across to the carved stone banister. Molly looked to her right and left, turning her eyes to the staircases on either side leading down onto the modestly kept lawns; ivy crawled up the wall beneath her and at the platform of the elevated terrace, creating wonderful patterns of nature and a silent fountain stretched from the platform wall beneath us in a semicircle on a patch of dark green lawn.
The waters had become stagnant in its months of silence and rest and some species of algae had stretched over its waters lethargically, taking its time in slowly poisoning the waters and I likened this poisonous algae to what must have laid in silence inside of her. She had been in pain even before our little deceptive operation, her wounds weeping that dark liquid possibly before we had met and, in comparing the algae to her ailment, whatever it may have been; I turned to state to her, quite bluntly, "Integra advises that you take a blood test."
Molly clasped her hands together and leant on her elbows on the banisters, body bent low and now she seemed not to reach even my elbow, "You know what my answer to that...is." She flinched. I raised my eyebrows.
"I have been ordered to persuade you into taking one, Little Blue." Molly was gritting her teeth, head bowed, heart suddenly racing, the stupid, stubborn and insolent child would not listen! My temper—short as it was—could not hold out any longer, "Molly!" I roared in irritation, I paused taking control of myself.
"Yes, Alucard?" She answered quietly. I shook my head and turned to look towards the fields where our soldiers practised their various attacks and battle-tactics. We stood in silence for a moment, until I spoke again in as calm a voice as my mood would allow me.
"I've been given instructions that I can use any method of persuasion, so long as you are still alive, in making you take that test. We do not want our men to catch some deadly, contagious disease you may be carrying in your blood."
"Any?"
"Any." I paused before smiling to myself. Molly had not pulled her eyes away from the horizon, seemed intent on seeing what lay beneath the moon and stars, what animal laid beneath a holly bush at the opposite end of the long lawns. She did not notice as I raised my hand and paused at her back before pushing my fingers onto the location of the underlying wounds and brushed my nails over her back. She cried out, a high piercing shriek, and I have to admit I had not even pressed that hard and already had elicited a cry from her I would have got from any other victim as I pulled off each limb slowly and painfully. She didn't beg for me to stop, didn't cry; she gritted her teeth hard and focused all her attention on the moss beneath her elbows as I applied slightly more pressure, "I'm trying to make a point, Little Blue. If this is the only way you will respond to my persuasion then I will have to continue—"
"Get. Off. Me." She whispered menacingly under her breath, each word punctuated with a sudden intake of pained breath. I caught a flash of silver as her hand gripped onto her pendant, pulled it over her head and swung it around my neck before jumping atop the banister and looping the chain around the 'm' in such a way that would have strangled a human easily, but I was not human. The silver cut through my skin quickly and she angled kicks at my stomach, my hand caught her knee easily and I had her on her back along the banisters in the time it would've taken her to blink.
She gasped again. "I think a blood test, Blue, should be in order—even if I have to take the sample myself," I bared my teeth at her and she seemed to shrink back slightly before bursting out into laughter.
"The idea of you handling a needle is just comic!" I pulled back, eyes narrowed as I let her sit back up, her back was stained with black and burgundy and she swayed once on her feet, but she returned to her earlier position- bent over the banister.
Once again we fell silent as I pulled the pendant from around my neck and felt the usual tingle of my skin rippling and healing and held it out for her to take. Without pealing her eyes from the horizon she held out her hand, the lace gloves were ripped in places and I noticed blackened flesh beneath the lace. "Your hands are burnt."
"No, they are dirty, there is a difference," I dropped the pendant in her hand, and watched for steam, smoke or the smell of burning flesh to accompany it, but her fingers wrapped around it and she deposited it in her inside pocket.
"Perhaps we could come to an arrangement instead...a wager?" I asked after what felt like an age, which was probably only twenty or so minutes- but even so, that is a long time when intertwined with silence.
"A wager?"
"If I win you take the blood test and you act thankful and happy about it—your sour moods do not please young doctor Fauster."
"And if I win?" She asked, turned her face to observe my face closely, no doubt to find any deception or trickery.
"What would you like?" Molly thought about it for a while, her train of thought unfathomable to me through the mental barriers and blocks and the deafening silence. I tuned my mind into hers, but all I could hear was static and a single phrase: I will win.
"Your hat will suffice."
"My hat?" I enquired.
"It is a nice hat and you seem quite fond of it and I do not vary in the style of my hats anyway, variation is key in a good wardrobe, is it not?"
"I suppose one can't have too similar wardrobe, it might get incredibly boring." Molly nodded with a lopsided smile.
"Hat and blood test." She finalised, "And what shall we bet on? Horses?" She smirked slightly as I raised an eyebrow.
"I seem to remember you saying on the way to Berkshire this evening, that you wouldn't mind battling me..." A full smile slowly wriggled across her lips, though a genuine smile was probably so alien to her that it seemed somewhere between a grimace, a devious grin and a sneer—or perhaps the former grimacing was due to her wounds.
"Truly? You are not being cruel?"
"I'm not being cruel at this moment in time, but during the battle I cannot maintain my usually calm and almost kind countenance." A grin spread across my face as she gave a small, lopsided smile.
"You can be as cruel as you want to me, sir, but I will still win that cute hat of yours." She gave a low chuckle, her nose wrinkled with a purely genuine smile, yes, it had been pain that had twisted that smile of hers before. "Cute?" I asked, feigning anger.
"Perhaps I should try it on now—"
"I don't think so, you cannot be sure that you will fair well against me, we haven't even decided upon a weapon."
"Well, we shall have to be fair about this. You are a dead shot...and I think something less reliant upon technology would be fair,"
"The technology would hold me back," I chuckled; she raised an eyebrow at me. A wave of the stench of her blood hit me, causing my head to turn and my nose to wrinkle.
"By all means, insult me further, you have already caused me grievous bodily harm, why not add an insult?" She snarled, nostrils flaring with annoyance.
"Well," I interjected, returning to the former subject, "how could we battle one another?"
"When was the last time you hefted a sword, my friend?"
"It's been years."
"Five for me, we are more matched in this, are we not? I have not held a sword for five years and you for..."
"A decade."
"Well, a vampire's mind holds on to skills much more than a human so I reckon that would be fair, what say you?"
"Yes, a sword-fight." Molly's smile broadened and her nose wrinkled. She turned back to the horizon. "But, in your current state I shall wait a few days, I'm sure Integra will not mind a few days delay if it gets her results."
"Ha! Don't be so cocky! You are not certain you will win, for all you know I could be a prodigy in the art of sword-fighting," She paused and turned back to me, "Are there even any swords in this place—oh, I remember seeing some in the umbrella stand in the foyer—"
"Those would last five seconds for what I have planned for you. No, we shall use swords from the armoury in the upper cellar." I sighed contentedly, looking forward to the little fight her and I would have. "I shall go easy on you, as you are only human,"
"Not too easy, mind. I will not go easy on you, Red."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, I would very much like to see how you handle yourself in a one-on-one fight, I have seen your hand-to-hand combat and I am quite impressed and now for your skill in sword-fighting to be tested and found, however it will be found- it will be quite fascinating. Though I don't want to be disappointed," I knew as I said it that Molly would take offence, and I relished her offended tone.
"Disappointed, hmm? We shall see about that, Red!" She hissed, then, smiling quite smugly, added, "I hope you live up to the rumours, I would certainly hate to be disappointed by your incapability at handling your own sword." She sniggered, had she intended on using an innuendo?
Molly fell silent again, and I noticed the sound of her heart-beat build up as she began to pant in pain, "I. think...I will get some rest. Good evening, Al-ucard," She turned and stumbled back into the kitchen, I watched her over my shoulder only slight concern for her creeping into my undead heart—if she were to die tonight I would not be able to see her capabilities in handling her sword.
I chuckled, her rather cruel jibe would have cut any man to the bone- no man likes to be criticised on his technique or capability in the bedroom- but instead it amused me; she knew men well enough to know what insult would get them riled most, would make them foam at the mouth, but not well enough as she detached herself from them in her disgust of them. Strange thing.
-&-
After quickly talking to Integra of our compromise and our agreement, I returned to my chamber for a day's well-earned rest. I held a glass of wine in my hand majestically, looking into the liquid fondly as I swirled it in the glass. My familiar chair held me, cradled me even, as it did every evening, but this evening, after a rather eventful evening, it seemed perhaps more restful to sit in it. I would not return to my coffin today, I would instead remain in my chair and doze lightly.
I tuned my ears and mind into the rooms about me; I mentally traced the corridor, slithering up the steps from my cell into the corridor and down seven rooms where the gentle snoring of Seras became louder until it sounded as if I were standing right beside her coffin. I listened for a moment and then returned to my chambers. A noise caught my attention; a sudden noise, not incredibly loud, but loud enough compared to the relatively silent rooms around it; I directed my mental stroll in the direction of the noise, slithering up the wall and into a room above the room to the left of my chambers and into Molly's room.
Her mind was open to anyone listening, a great tumult of shouts, screams and sobbing. She had decided to sleep in the bed for this evening and pushed herself up against the wall, the cold stones piercing her wounded back, making the nightmares all the more worse. I pulled back from my mental stroll and instead physically stepped into her room, watching as she thrashed about in her sleep, observed her body come out in a cold sweat, bed sheets twisting around her tighter and tighter.
""My little Cherub, I will not help you,"
"B-but...I c-can't!"
"You will!"
"You made the mess, didn't you?"
"No...you did! If you hadn't ever—"
"Your existence was an accident, if I could I would rip you from the earth and cast you out into oblivion where you belong!"
I dared to step into her mind, to see, once and for all, what it was that she hid from the world and to anyone listening. "I loved him!" I could see her looking at the back of an armchair, a hand holding a book just visible, the glow of a the light of a fire animated within the ruby on his ring-finger. "You cannot love, Cherub, you were made to love only two people—"
"I hate you!" A sickening laugh crackled with the fire. "Hate me all you want, dearest." He answered, standing, immediately she cast her eyes to the floor, refused to even look at him, he gripped her chin, focused her eyes on his...Two great emerald green eyes shone and glistened, light dancing in his eyes. "I love seeing you cry, my morbid fascination with seeing your only emotion presented to me is growing every day. You will clean the mess up, Cherub." Molly turned her eyes to the floor again as she relived the scene.
A boy, black hair and steel grey eyes shouted at her soundlessly and finally threw a stool at her, she ducked it easily but jumped at him, ripped his throat out with her teeth and pulled back to find him dead… "He would never have gotten so angry if you hadn't made me promise—"
"'Made' you promise? I don't need to 'make' you do anything, I am your master! You do as I say, you obey!"
"I hate you." She muttered again.
"Say it a little louder pet, hatred is best shown through rage." I felt a wave of deep hatred and anger manifest within her.
"You want me to be angry?" Molly screamed, throwing herself at him, fighting him with less skill than she had now, and the man laughed at her as he knocked her sideways onto a chaise-lounge and pinned her on her side, her neck extended- to his delight. Molly refused to look at him; refused to make eye-contact for fear that he would get into her mind as easily as before, as easily as I stood here now. "You, my beautiful little angel, are and always will be mine. By a spot of luck you were created for me, and in my generosity I raised you."
"Was it generosity that made you bind me?" She sobbed.
"Well, yes, I know that without my own supervision you, you little mischievous fiend, will get yourself in a lot of trouble—especially with men- as you have shown me tonight,"
"He hated me because of you!" She sobbed.
"Well...he wasn't much then, was he?" Her master kissed her neck. The sound of her sobbing was overlapped with screams and louder sobs and the familiar language broke through the screams, German, her mind translated it for her, "Quite a durable thing she is, we've tested her endurance, her pain-threshold and her immune system, she is...how to say? Unique." She opened her eyes, watched as two doctors stood in front of her master, unaware of her consciousness, while she angled her eyes away from her Master. "I said you may do as many experiments as you like, if you like what you see you may have a large amount of her blood, but the main point of this exercise was to punish her."
"Punish her, sir?"
"You've been quite a mischievous little bitch haven't you, Cherub?" She tried to articulate an answer but collapsed in exhaustion. "I think she has almost learnt her lesson, trying to break from me. Quite a painful thing that was. Has she completely recovered from the shock?"
"Positively, yes, rapidly even! We've experimented with many diseases as well, but there is one we haven't tried," the other doctor smiled slightly.
"A venomous bite." the first doctor grinned, leering at her cruelly.
"My bite?" Her master asked.
"Yes, you said for us to keep her away from the other experiment in case of his bite...so...we have done just that."
"Yes, but now we are intrigued..." The second doctor interjected.
"You may very well regret asking me to inflict that upon her, she seems relatively harmless now..." Molly's eyes started to close from exhaustion. And the pain, she whimpered, the pain like a pinprick to the other experiments they had put her through, compared to the human diseases. Cholera, deadly as it was, wouldn't kill her, though her body could not rid itself of it, not without intestines, and she had instead thrown up her own blood...the floor slick with large dark puddles of it.
After a few moments of a blank head and my slow withdrawal I was pulled back in the activity of a final dream. She was in agony, she screamed, and she saw blood, her body throwing up the contents of her stomach, a burgundy liquid falling from her lips. She pulled free of the bonds in the chair, her master was gone and the doctors tried to hold her down, but the pain was too unbearable. She ripped them apart in her agony, and fell against the chair, the fit over. Just as it had finished it started again; and so it went on, starting and stopping, taking hours, possibly days, and finally her mind screamed freedom and she heard thoughts...I'm going to die...die...I'm going...to die? I can't! So many more experiments! The old one in the lab- his tests- and the hag...this one shall not leave me...I shall not die, but I am…oh, god, I'm dying!
The door flew open and a white haired woman—possibly albino— jumped through the doorway, stepping over the corpses and limbs littered around the dirty laboratory, a tall, slender and rather deathly looking figure following her. "My baby, we have to leave, I know you are in pain but we must leave." They hurt her! The bastards! My baby! Molly refused the man, shying away from him, in disgust, in...
"Who are you?" No! Not again! He knew it would happen! He knew she would forget! The man and woman, who I only assume to be her mother, tried to move her, but the agony of contact on her skin was far worse than before, walking, moving...breathing, all was hell on earth.
She screamed, body sitting bolt upright scrabbling across the bed, eyes bleary from sleep and hand clutched to her mouth, where she leapt into the bathroom and threw up. Panting, in agony...But the consciousness had pulled the barriers back up again and I was locked outside, with nothing but her whimpers to prove my theories of her emotions. I stepped back moving in with the shadows, watched as she moved through the darkness and stopped at one of the four posts and leant against it, she was frowning.
"Why? What did I dream?" She growled, slamming her hands into the wall nearest to her, aggression building in her breast. She sighed, shoulders and body slumping and crawled over her bed, falling unconscious among the pillows and twisted covers and sheets. I watched for a few moments for any mental movement, but none came.
I returned to my chambers for the day and sat back down, returning the glass to my hand before draining it and letting myself fall into a deep state of thought.
A/N: Duuuuude, I had NO intention, whatsoever, of finishing this off so quickly! Five hours! I rock! But...ahem...that means more work for Marie, and I think at the moment I may be killing her imagines evil slave driver (me) and poor marie working her fingers to the boneSo I will leave it a while...a week or so...and get on with the next chapter, I think that's a good idea. Have you ever wondered how many books you could write in a set number of months if you had absolutely NO other distractions? I reckon I could write ten/twelve books a year, how many could you write? Ain't that a question! Though, if you had absolutely NO distractions...where's your life? It would literally be the book...:S
Review please! and thank you to those that review the last chapters: Lil-Bloodsucker, Rabbott, Alucard'sPetBunny, Fleeting Glance, you all rock and you know it!
Marie- cookie!
