Epilogue
So this story was meant to have a continuation and was further meant to continue on going from Hellsing to grand theft auto to mad max seeing Seras follow a path that twisted her into a max like character running from everyone as demons of her past haunted her and she became a very Alucard like character. This will not happen. Hellsing is a fun series and I love it however between schoolwork and general life I am no longer going to continue this series idea and instead am ending the story here. For anyone wishing to continue where I end this is technically canonical however it will not kill possible continuations. Any author/authors wanting to continue this story I laid here please PM me only so I can follow your work. Also I will not allow the resurrection of my own character in any continuations I do not personally write solely because Edwin is my intellectual property and his style is not something that can be replicated by another author. If you wish to attempt this once more PM me and I will personally judge you to see if you can impress me.
Now that this is done please read on and also if you skipped this go back and read it or at least part, it covers the future of this story.
The stone was boring and plain. A block sat on the ground with a small rounded stone marker sat on top with ' Edwin Hunter soldier of Hellsing and friend to all' carved across its face. No reference to an age, how the man had been killed at barely the age of thirty regardless of his immortal status. No mention of how Edwin was killed because of how she had messed up the first time something like that had occurred.
The city was no longer smoking or scarred, work on clearing the mess albeit smaller this time and more controlled had already started. Hellsing manor was no more now just a burnt out husk standing forgotten. She'd taken a few items and fled that night with him but never returned for anything else. Alucard's pistols were forgotten in the havoc but no one had seen him since Integra and Walter's lynching. The wonderful woman who'd given her a life when she had nothing left but darkness who'd stood for her friend now forgotten as another dark stain on Britain her body buried in the grave she stood in front of. It wasn't marked for her though, she was not to be remembered by Britain. So Edwin got his stone and Integra would be remembered even if people didn't know her name.
Seras walked from the cemetery the jeans too long and too large cinched off with a belt, her boots clunked loudly as if they didn't fit, which they didn't. Her shirt barely a tank top hugged her chest but the long black trench coat stained, battered, charred and weathered managed to cover her frame well enough it didn't matter. The bloody scent had long since faded as had his now replaced by her own and the ash that had coated the inside had long since been worn from the fabric by water and rain but the holes, the tears and the obviously resewn sleeves and tail remembered still whether other did or didn't.
She jumped from the pavement into the truck and as the suspension creaked and passersby gave her odd looks for her state of dress and her truck she didn't care. The people she cared for may be gone but that didn't mean they were forgotten. The stench of the Thames still clung to the leather and the steel had rusted and corroded from its time sunk in the river but as the old truck rumbled to life pulling onto the road long unused thanks to the advancements made by the passage of time Seras remembered back to a day, a sunny day in a place much further away than where she was going.
A time when he laughed and smiled simply to be driving free and safe from everyone and everything, music the lifeblood that moved him and love for all the passion that drove him. And then she remembered back even further. To a night she once remembered in fear, a long red coat and hat, a pair of maniacal red eyes watching as she slipped from consciousness. Then to a woman hair the color of silver and eyes the color of the stormy sea never wavering and forever a beacon within the storm. And finally a warm smile and a shoulder to cry on or a friend to confide in. All of them were gone but not forgotten, and now so was she.
The girl, the vampire, the woman Seras Victoria no longer existed for she was dead lost in the fires of the Hellsing manor's wreckage trapped to suffocate in the basement as she shriveled and died turning to another unmarked uncared for pile of ash in the charred ruin. No she was now no-one and nobody looked for no-one.