Though it has taken me quite a bit, I've finally managed to put this chapter on my compure. The good news is all the next chapters are writen down on paper so I just have to rewrite them like this one and then edit them before posting. I have about 4 plots in this chapter alone and that took me some time link together.
Anyways, the next chapter should probaly be out in about a week.
Chapter 7
"Father Julian, Father Julian..." The voice continued to call with little hope of being heard as the man's eyes were intently focused on the figure of the winged boy he'd talked about just seconds earlier. The face, the clothing, the posture, all were exactly the same even that one crucial element: the dark violet to almost ebony black wings emerging from his shoulder blades and framing his arms o either side as they almost touched the floor with their tips. The angel of death had indeed returned as he'd once told the old priest.
"We meet again."
The priest could do nothing but drop the phone from his hand and make the sign of the cross with his other just once before the figure swooped down on him, his dark tainted wings engulfing him completely.
...
The small device hit the floor hard almost breaking in two had it not been for the piece of cloth fallen earlier from the priest's other hand. The person on the other end of the phone continued to call out with no answer.
"What is going on?"
"You must forgive father Julian, I seem to have scared him." Walter replies with a subtle smirk gracing his lips after picking up the phone and folding his wings.
"What is this utter nonsense about…"
"Nothing I'm afraid. You see father Patrick requested dusting the archives and we found some old costumes. The children wanted to play and the rest is thus quite irrelevant." Walter lied with such easy it came as natural as breathing.
"Now listen here." The man's voice hardened clearly displeased. "Julian has called me tree times so far rambling nothing but gibberish and I do not appreciate being taken for a fool."
"Forgive but I know only of this time that he has called."
"Put him on." The voice demands.
"I'm sorry but…"
"Ah there you are my boy." A different voice echoed in the small chapel as an elderly gentleman spoke appearing from the room behind the altar. His hair was short and grey with soft dark eyes and a gentle smile on his lips. He carried a bible I his left hand and a reddish brown cane in his right to help him walk. His stride was small and his legs slightly trembling with age. "I've been waiting for your visit."
"Are you listening to me?" the voice shouted.
"Yes, yes of course." Walter replies turning his attention back to the conversation at hand. A difficult task considering the elder priest never stopped talking.
"You are late though, I was expecting you earlier. How's…"
"I'm sorry perhaps you'd prefer talking to father Patrick yourself. He's just here." The teen raises his voice just slightly to cover the priest's words before turning to face him completely. He offers the phone with a subtle smile.
"I assume the conversation went well?" Half an hour later finds the teen wingless in a small yet rather dusty room filled to the brink with old files and books. Rafters littler the walls from top to bottom; there wasn't even an inch of space between the different bodies of the ceiling high makeshift bookcases. He was in the process of carrying several cardboard boxes back to their original place at the bottom of the shelves.
"As well as it could have." The priest, having just entered the room, took a seat at the small wooden table situated in the middle of the room, his hands resting on the curved head of his cane as he placed it between his knees. "I thought we had agreed on you keeping those wings of yours hidden from sight?" His tone sounded scolding, and yet he was far more amused than angry. "You didn't have to show off."
"You wanted him gone Paddy." Walter replies picking up yet another box.
"Well of course I wanted him gone. He's been running all over my nice quite church for the past week disrupting things and looking for who knows what down here. Plus I do not require a sitter at my age."
"You're 83 Paddy."
"So? You're 116 if I may dare to speak the truth. At least I have aged with dignity and grace."
"And still I'm worse for showing my wings? That's cruel even for a priest."
"Perhaps." He replies while watching in silence as the last two remaining boxes are neatly put back into place. "Just what are you looking for exactly?"
"Secrets." The teen replies dusting off his hands. "And probably the same thing as your friend.
"Then you won't find any there. People always search books first, you know that. Everyone know that, it's common knowledge like breathing or eating."
"My secrets aren't on paper Paddy. They're better hidden than that."
"Well of course they are. Otherwise people wouldn't have hidden something of value in a small, aged wooden box in a dark secret room." Paddy rambles one without ca are or even a breath of air until he's finished. "A secret room conveniently located behind the bookcase behind me perhaps?"
"You don't say?"
"You are looking for a coffin, are you not?"
"I may."
"Of course you are. Just because you haven't told doesn't mean I don't know. You are working for that family after all. Not to mention all the other asor…"
"Paddy…" Walter kindly interrupts him knowing from experience his old friend had a tendency to jump from one idea to another rather quickly, sometimes without even being aware of it. The tale-tale signs of growing and passing a certain age.
"Must you always cut me off when I ad a little more flavor to the conversation? It's quite rude, you know?"
"So speaks a man of experience?" the teen asks leaning over the table.
"A man whose been passed on a secret, yes. Or do you not wish to know what I know any more?"
"Who's told you Paddy? And how much?"
"Not as much as you might think. There's a brick that comes loose and you can very well imagine the rest. The secret in itself wasn't passed on to every priest attending this small parish generously provided for in terms of money by the old man centuries ago. Father Thomas was very picky, and a bit eccentric as well. I always thought he was missing a few cups form his cupboard, especially with all his staring out the window in latter years. I don't know why but it always unnerved me deep down."
The teen merely chuckled in amusement but said nothing about it.
"It wasn't until later I found out a possible reason for it, but it was still eerily strange. You do know I have other vampire remains and some weird coffin in my cellar, don't you?
"You really are mad Paddy." Walter tells him genuinly smiling while leaning his head into his left hand and finally taking the empty seat opposite side of the table. His action in turn causes the priest to laugh hard at the teen's rather infectious smile.
"Might as well be. I don't have much else left." His laughter eventually quitted down becoming a gentle hum. "Life has a way of slipping through your fingers faster than you might think."
"Indeed it does."
"You haven't yet told me why it is you need that old thing."
"For killing the vampire most likely." Walter's response is completely casual as though it were lacking any real significance. "I haven't yet taken the proper time to ponder over Alucard's need of it."
"And what of your need? This is the first time you've taken interest in this subject in a very long time. "
"Things have changed since then." His tone turned somewhat melancholic. "Plus Thomas never quite agreed to show me."
"Well you were kind of shady boy; I have to tell you that."
"A trait somewhat difficult to forget. But it has made me the best."
"Indeed it has."
A moment passes in silence between the two before the priest decides to change the subject.
"ASo tell me," he smiles rather curiously. " How is the little one?"
"Kicking." He replies with a soft smile and a gentler look in his blue eyes. "Although I can't help but worry for them both. Integra's almost lost the baby twice and she still won't tell when something's wrong. She's hiding things, everything to be exact." The smile subsides and his tone turns ironic. "I hold no trust and she doesn't even have to tell me. It's always in her eyes when her guard falls."
"Trust is always easier to break than earn."
"Then what should I do, confess? That would take years Paddy." His shoulders slouch as if to reinforce his words.
"You could always talk to her instead of me."
"She's too proud for that."
"Perhaps you are the one too proud to acknowledge that which you have done"
"I've already apologized Paddy. What more do you want?"
"Maybe you haven't apologized for the right thing." With one sentence the priest captured his full attention. "Perhaps it's something you're not aware of."
"What I have broken Paddy?" this time the teen's question wasn't spoken out of anger but genuine concern as well as interest.
The priest smiles. "The mind is a fickle thing and I do not presume to understand how it works. I have no answer to give, I'm sorry."
"Then I should have no more questions to ask."
"No." Patrick contradicts him with a shake of his head and a pad of his cane against the stone tiles of the floor. "You have many yet to ask, many more. Just ask the right ones."
Walter stares at his old fried contemplating his words until the latter suddenly gets somewhat quickly for his age up leaning against his cane and pushes his chair back.
"Enough now, you've not come for here a moral lecture. Go on the, go find your treasure. That way I might finally be able to see what's inside the damned thing before i kick the bucket."
The angel sketches a smile through lowered bangs putting the train of melancholic thoughts behind him. He too pushed his chair back.
The search would prove most interesting.
.
.
.
The grandfather clock mounted on Makube's office wall anounced the time: 9.30.
"I do not appreciate tardiness Mr. McCoy." A rough and husky voice spoke up from behind a large wooden desk, his chair turned around so the back was facing the door and as such to the man just walking in. a few more minutes had passed until the scheduled appointment could finally be held. The latter wore a clean charcoal black suit, white shirt and black tie and carried a dark brown leather briefcase in his left hand. "You are at least 35 minutes late and the meeting was scheduled for 9 o'clock sharp."
"Yes and I do apologies. However, I'm confident my report will be more than satisfactory." Walking over to the chair opposite of the desk he took a seat and placed his briefcase on the floor next to him. A second figure entered the office behind him shutting the door before walking across the room and stopping next to the desks' right side. The figure faced the light brown haired man and, despite the bandages covering her face, his onyx eyes met grayish-green in silent contact. Afterwards he broke eye contact and placed his suitcase on top of the desk in front of him opening it. "As I've said the report will more than suffice. Plus the information your boy Jonah provided was quite useful, more than adequate Makube."
"It better be." The elder gentleman replies watching as McCoy took out a dark brown folder and passed it over. "Now, tell me what you know."
"The fledgling is still missing and my attempts to locate her have been unsatisfactory so far. It's as if the earth has swallowed up somehow."
"He's taken her to his castle. That much is certain."
"One I also can't seem to find anywhere. The Carpathians are vast and even the known areas from past experiences have yield nothing." He pauses for a moment.
"Perhaps it would be wiser to let her come to us rather than continue searching in vain for our elusive needle. She is so far our sole surviving subject which I can only conclude is due to the blood she shares with the vampire. It's true the Major's plan failed in annihilating the creature; however he succeeded in keeping him at bay for almost 30 years. All subjects suffer from psychological effects, memory lost especially." His lips curl upward in a knowing grin. "They no longer recognize themselves."
"So she's immune?" Makube asks his question dropping the file.
"I would not call it immune to the fullest sense of the word. We may never know what exactly occurred in those 30 years to make the vampire return, nor the extent to which he has influenced his fledgling. The Childe was driven mad and forced into slumber. And when she awoke she faired no better. I therefore do not believe the question is whether she continues to live but for how long? Alucard has returned alone."
"Alone?" The priest's eyes narrow at the statement and he leans forward over his desk placing his elbow on top of it and his chin over his joint hands.
"As alone as anyone can be. As such you see both my reasoning and my problem. He has hardly left her side during her slumber so why abandon her to fate in a foreign country not her own?"
"And if he gave her to someone? Someone like this new vampire he's brought into the Hellsing manor."
"Would you?" McCoy counters suggestively leaning back into his chair and crossing his right leg over the left. Afterwards he places both elbows on top of the twin armrests and entwines his fingers together in front of his chin. "If you were a creature scorn by both the dead and the living, would there truly be anyone you would entrust your most prized possession to? Something, if you had the means and the ability to perform, could be so easily corrupted and left utterly vulnerable." He grins darkly once again. "Death has a way of finding us all, through many ways and various scenarios we ourselves may have never thought of."
"Then you already consider Seras Victoria as dead?"
"Hardly." He chuckles. "I consider her temporarily out of my reach. She will come. I assure you gentlemen; Seras Victoria will return and when she does things will certainly change."
"And if she doesn't? Just how do you propose we eliminate her then? Iscariot will not set foot in that God forsaken place, not now and not ever. Not unless we have certainty of our undisputable success." He made sure to emphasize the most crucial part of that statement.
"That won't be necessary. She will come to us." McCoy smirks dropping his hands and letting them settle over the armrests. "For you see I did not reached the position I am in by guessing blindly or good looks. Now, I am the Queens representative in this matter and empowered, in all means, to deal with the current freak and vampire infestation once and for all just as you are on behalf of the Catholic Church and the Vatican. More so I have the Royal order of Rebellious Knights behind me, all except one of course. We humans are such fickle creatures, are we not? We accept or deny matters we can never truly have control over, explain things through false reasoning simply because we do not understand, even consider the existence and validation of being beyond our world, God." He takes a moment to raise his gaze and meet the priest's narrowed eyes. Nonetheless, he continues. "By all means we have even come to accept vampires and freaks and desire to be them and have what they have. But one thing gentlemen, one thing will never truly be accept regardless of origin, nation or creed…" This time his pause is longer and the silence it brings the equivalent of the calm before a horrific storm. "An immortal human."
"Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing." Makube spells out each fragment of the knight's name with bitter distain.
"It is highly impossible for two people to be so utterly different yet remarkably the same at the same time."
A second folder is taken out the suitcase and thrown over the surface of the desk; two photos roll out of: a platinum haired woman and a dark haired man.
"We all agree the fairytale weaved about the child of Sir Hellsing is nothing more than a fairytale. The demeanor, the speech pattern and the body language, they are all far too similar despite several attempts to change them. Even the difference in appearance is not that conclusive as you can well see. I do not know for certain what exactly occurred 9 years ago since all I those who had taken part and I have asked seem to have developed amnesia, however, Selene Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing is none other than the former Sir Hellsing. It has taken a great deal of time and effort to procure said information but blood does not lie and neither does DNA testing. All the test match, they are the same."
"And the boy?"
"Ah yes, Walter C. Dornez." McCoy leans over the desk himself to open the folder containing the spilled pictures; Walter's name pops up in bold lettering in the second half of the folder. "Born 1931 and active member of the Hellsing organization until his supposed death in 1991 when he became a traitor to his Queen and country. And now, miraculously, we have yet another descended whose picture matches the only one known on file from the Second World War records. As for Mr. Dornez's medical records, let's just say they were even harder to track down than Integra's. Still old age catches us all. You will find more information in my reports as I'm not here to scholar you in either medical terms or waste both your time and mine with such useless nonsense."
A third and final folder was removed from the suitcase. And unlike the previous two, it bore the royal seal of the crown imprinted on the front and bold red lettering beneath it with the word Classified.
"On the contrary, I am here to offer you a proposal. One I more than certain you will find most enticing."
The folder fell with a loud thump in the silence his words left behind. McCoy leans back into his chair waiting, watching and grinning; a rather mischievous smirk, a devilish upward curl of his thin, pale lips.
"The year 2030, as we all know, marked the year of Sir Hellsing last stand as leader of the Hellsing Organization. By her own act she dissolves the Hellsing Organization as a whole placing it the hands and leadership of the Royal Order of Rebellious Knights who, by the order of the Queen, are to maintain its function and purpose of protecting Britain against those undead or of supernatural origins upon her death. The document was signed by all the knights as well as the queen herself and witness by neutral parties who are to this day ready to swear on the validity of the act. Unfortunately, the summer of 2038 buried everything away. The Organization was attacked by one unknown to us in all aspects with the exception of a few snap shots taken of her via the internal security measures of the manor itself. The dark haired woman remains to this day unidentifiable and with no name despite my best efforts of tracking her down she simply does not exist."
"A vampire?"
"Most likely, yes. All I can say for certain is that she no longer possesses a threat. She was been taken care of. The issue which does concern us however, is the aftermath of that encounter: Integra left and Selene came back in her place. Every record, every shred of information we have on the Hellsing family before August the 27th 2038 bares no mention of one Selene Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. Also, there are no unconfirmed birth records dated for the years 2025-2026 that I could not successfully relate to a child and a family. Also, there aren't any other type of medical records belonging to her prior to August the 29th 2038. People may write and forget, or simply forget to write but there has never been one thing I could not find once directed on the correct path. This I could not. But when you think about it, what better way of hiding things you do not which others to discover then by having your pet vampire erase all traces from memory? Then end result of the Knight's meeting on August the 28th 2038 was the enforcement of a new heir to the Hellsing name and thus a nullification of the agreement in front of you. Everyone agreed, no one disputed. Not even the Queen."
"Then let me ask you, by what means have you come upon this path? Why now and not then?"
"Because of April 17th 2046, the night of the Queens annual benefit ball and the attack on her person by yet another complication linked to that House."
"Indeed." Makube agrees shifting in his seat. "I've had Heinkel here keep a very close eye on them ever since the vampire returned and an ever closer one after that night. We could never confirm or deny one fact: has she or has she not given Alucard his freedom? All we were able to was the large amount of blood given to him by choice. The runes faded but eventually returned."
"As far as I can tell you she has not. She can not. However, I lack the journal to confirm it."
"What journal?" the word immediately captured the priest's attention.
"The one belonging to Abraham himself. The one in which he recorded the events of Alucard's capture, specifically how he succeeded in binding the creature to his blood. Of course the man probably had hundreds throughout his life but I'm interested in just one. Regrettably, despite being granted full access to Integra's library I could not locate it."
"So you have everything but one?"
"The one that counts. From what I could gather he made a condition that no amount of blood from his bloodline, freely given or not, would break the seals. A fact, I must confess, has intrigued me ever since its discovery."
"Just what are you proposing the?"
"The nullification of the agreement granting refuge to the two vampires currently in her Majesty's service. After the ball Hellsing fell out of grace and little by little I came to discover the truth."
The room fell into utter silence, so quite a pin could equal a canon shot.
"You want to declare war on England?"
"I declare war on the filth infesting her and the traitors ideally standing by. Sir Hellsing has taken matters into her own hands and as such so shall I. She has become a traitor to her country and by the definition of our rather glorious past, we see those traitors burn."
"But why come to us?"
"Because you want them gone as much as I do."
The Iscariot leader laughs finding amusement in the obvious lie he'd been fed. "So sais the, how did you put it, a simple government official? We both know that's a lie. So tell me, is there something more you strive to keep from us? What ties have you the Hellsing name?"
"My ties are merely those given to me by my name. You've had your own people look me up, a fact I am most certain about, so I won't deny it. I am not directly in line for the throne but not far from it either. As such I have no intention of being manipulated by either vampires or their scheming masters behind my back in the near future should the opportunity arise." At that point his tone darkened substantially. "I am nothing like my aunt."
"I can see that. She has always had a more cautioned side."
"Call it what you will it doesn't matter to me. All I require from you at the moment is a small participation in an action I have scheduled for tomorrow. Other than that," he pauses. "I want you to remove Alucard's fledgling from the picture. The incident you had with her 5 years ago, finish it."
"With pleasure." Heinkel spoke up chuckling from behind the bandages covering her face.
"Heinkel." Makube warns in a neutral yet commanding tone not having given her permission just yet.
"I've been waiting for something like Makube. I could finally wipe the smirk off that undead vampire whore's face. My sword missed her once I plan to rectify that mistake."
Silence descended once again over the three as Mokube took a moment to consider his options carefully. He would not make any rash decisions simply out of spite. Otherwise he would end up wasting all those years he'd spent waiting and planning Iscariot's triumph over Hellsing once and for all.
"Tell me more about this document signed upon Integra's death. What exactly does it imply and where exactly do we fit in other than your so called personal assassins? I will not have my people play soldier in your own personal war without proper cause." He warns in a hardened tone, but there is also a hint of both curiosity and a hunger for knowledge hidden between the lines. The proposition so far was indeed enticing.
McCoy merely smirked in return and started uncovering the finer details of the long forgotten contract. When done, more than an hour or so later, the mere expression on Mokube's face held his decision.
"There is one fault that I can find in this quest of yours." His aged, grayish eyes lock on the man's onyx ones. "You want to make a vampire?"
"I do." McCoy replies without delay.
"But your aim is to destroy them?"
"Correct. And what better way to kill a vampire than with a vampire. After all, that is what Integra has been saying all these years, has it not?"
"There are already far too many vampires in that House and I certainly can not sanction the destruction of a soul for your desire for power. This new creature I have mentione for instance…"
"Works both ways." McCoy interrupts him a knowing glance and matching grin. "I have already struck a deal with the vampire in question, not that he'll be keeping for long of course. For you see, he is either true in betraying his allegiance to Alucard and helping us or he is merely playing a game according to the Counts' orders and acts in our favor for the sole purpose of winning said favor. I say why not take the chance? Why not take away their advantage and make it our own?"
"Because you cannot make vampires. And second, who would you choose and why would that person be loyal to you and not it's master?
"Because I will make Integra give the order herself. Whomever Alucard turns will be bound to him and thus to her just as Seras Victoria was. And to be bound to someone is in no way synonym to being loyal. All we require is a proposition and an offer that cannot be refused."
"And if by chance this plan of yours should fail? What then?"
"I don't plan on succeeding Makube." The brown haired man chuckles whilst reaching into his left side breast pocket for a cigar." That's the beauty of it all. The fledgling's sole purpose is to lead us to her master just as Mina had once done long ago for Abraham. Nothing more and nothing less."
"Her?"
Surprisingly, there was a fourth folder inside McCoy briefcase. And inside it, after he took it out and opened it, was the picture of a woman in her late 20is with shoulder long curly hair as black as a raven's feathers and hazel nut colored eyes.
"Her."
.
.
.
Integra sighed for what seemed to be hundredth time in the last half hour staring up at the plain white ceiling, the horrid plain white ceiling, of the infirmary. Why the hell had she painted it white? She could have at least smudged with some other damned color. It was so plain it was making her sick from merely staring at it. The hour had barely passed mid day, perhaps half an hour since she woke, and yet it seemed so much longer.
"So white, is it not?"
Walter's soft tone breaks the silence and her deep concentration upon the nearly invisible cracks grazing the ceiling like scratches. As her head turned towards the sound she was him leaning against the windowsill with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his right ankle over the left. The black color of his short hair shone with the sunlight seeping through the glass. His head was down and his bangs hid his eyes from sight.
"I don't know what's worse, it or me?" Integra's tone echoes sorrow and misery and her gaze does not falter, not one single mm, from the ceiling. Even the sound of his oncoming footsteps leaves her unaffected. She stares and grimaces as the muscles in her face contract in silent pain at yet another unwanted spasm taking over her womb. She wasn't in labor per say, the doctor had told her so, but it felt incredibly close. The baby was restless inside her womb and kicking against everything it could find; every organ. Of course, being stupid and undoing Alucard's gracious attempt to save it had not helped matters, yet who had time to ponder such things now when her liver was currently the baby's punching bag and the only thing able to soothe the tiny monster.
Her teeth clenched at a second stab shortly after.
"Where did you go?" she asks once the pain fades.
"Where Alucard sent me. He has a bad habit of doing things first and explaining himself later."
"Damn it." The knight curses tilting her head into the pillow at a particularly strong kick as well as a cramp.
"Here…" Walter whispers wrapping his arms around her shoulders and helping her up just enough so he could slip in behind her and rest his back against the headboard. He spreads his legs positioning them on either side of her body and removed one of the two pillows to better adjust his new position. Integra in turn grips his upper right thigh arching her back slightly against his chest before finally settling against him in a comfortable position.
"You're still in pain." He sais moving his left arm around her waist and placing his hand over the side of her swollen womb. Her head falls over his shoulder settling in the crook of his neck so that the left side if her face and the rim of her glasses brush the right side of his.
"It hasn't stopped." She replies in a pained whisper. "She's punishing me as I deserve." The kick to her side was felt by both their hands as she placed her left palm over his fingers. The other gripped his thigh harder.
"She's just restless. She'll calm down, just be patient." He counters kissing along the side of her jaw line and caressing her womb with soft gentle strokes. A tiny hand or perhaps a foot reacted to his touch moving almost in sink.
"How can she when I've tried to kill her twice so far? I've placed her second time and time again. Everything Alucard said was true." The once proud knight's voice broke with a tear; then another…
"What do you need me to do?" he asks ever faithful stopping the slow motion of his fingers against her side.
"Beat some sense into me." She tells him gripping his thigh yet again and meaning every word of it. Another strong kick has her grimacing and pulling her legs up a little bit higher towards her chest which rises with a deep inhale before falling from an equal exhale.
"I'll get the doctor."
"What the hell good will that do?" her nails threatened to pierce both cloth and flesh alike and her back arched anew.
"You're in labor."
Integra laughed. It was the only thing she could do though the irony of it tasted horribly bitter in her mouth. Fresh tears fell over her cheeks creating a new path before disappearing into the platinum mass covering her shoulders.
"Not really. The doctor gave me something for the pain. It's not labor, not yet. He'll be back to poke me some more once the medicine takes effect."
The baby hit the front of her womb hard several times without stopping despite her hand leaving Walters' to counter it. "Fuck even the baby knows I'm horrid."
"Stop moving." The teen attempts to calm her, but fails miserably at doing so.
"For Christ's sake Walter!" she shouts screaming her lungs off. She was at the end of her rope and all he could do was be so goddamned calm.
"You don't need a monster." The angel whispers hoarsely in return breathing against the shell of her ear. Though still calm throughout his speech, his tone hid a subtle darkness and a chill when uttering the word 'monster' when referring to himself as a monster. The color of his blue irises darkened as his eyes narrowed slightly beneath his black bangs.
Integra broke down sobbing, turning her body to the right and curling it against his to the best of her ability. There wasn't a single trace of the once proud worrier; just a desperate mother overwhelmed by the situation.
"I'm bleeding." She confesses and the meaning hits him as hard as a rock. Between the tears, sobbing and genuine distress shining in her eyes he didn't know which one weighed more heavily on his heart. "I'm scared."
"You haven't told the doctor." He felt no need to ask such a pointless question. And with her shaking her head as she did against his shoulder he didn't have to. "Why?" he raises his voice for the first time. Why now? And why tell him? For nearly 4 months she kept most of the information about her pregnancy a secret. Everything he learned he had to fish for himself. "You don't even trust me."
A moment passes in sheer agony before she speaks. "I do. But you would have stopped me. You always do."
"Because you're a rash and troublesome child." He sais before thinking things through. He then pauses pondering his next words so that they do not come out in anger. "I made a vow to look after you. From the day you were born to the day I first held you and the day I died. A stubborn and beautiful creature that withholds her reins from any other's touch than her own, much too proud to ask for help."
"Who do you think I have that from?" she smiles in remembrance. "When you stand above all others at such heights it hurt to look up upon you. Hellsing's angel of death."
"I had nothing else."
"Then why did you leave?" she cuts him off grimacing anew. "Why break and trample over my trust and admiration, my pride. Why leave me naked and bare in front of the enemy to sentence you to death? Alucard is a servant by another's choice and Seras merely the servant of my servant. But you, you were…"
"Had I told you, you would have stopped me." He answers using her own words against her. "But life is never easy and never fair. I had my war and I wanted to see it through and done, the vampire and the vampire hunter. But then it all got too complicated and my path lost all its branches until all I had left was that one bare and desolated road, until I could go back no further."
"Why are we such bad parents Walter?"
"I don't know." Though he smiles, he does not mean it. "Maybe we are just monsters."
"I really am bleeding…"
"I'm aware." His hand moves over and around her womb descending beneath the covers over her pajamas. Blood coated tree of his fingers trickling down the digits as he pulled the back. His gaze falls into deep thought at the sight.
"I can't do it." Integra tells him instinctively knowing exactly what kind of thoughts raced through his mind. "I can't take Alucard's blood again."
"I know." He sais sighing before wiping his hand against the sheet and cupping her left cheek with it as she buries her head deeply into the crook of his neck. "He's told me. You do such stupid things."
"At least then someone will protect her in our place."
"It isn't his task to complete. Nor should it have been a decision for you to make."
"And if you disappear again? What will I have then?"
"I had to."
"And I had to sign your death. I had to trample over my pride even more than when you dared me to do it without as much as blinking. You broke my heart."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't leave me." She confesses turning her head upward towards the underside of his jaw, lips brushing against his skin and his Adam's apple. I love you...
"I know." He swallows hard in understanding. "And I'll take care of it."
The promise was solid and made even more so by his right hand finding her entwining their fingers together. For a moment his thoughts spread out anew searching for the path he needed to take.
"I'll take care of everything."
And , unfortunately, the vampire was the first and only thought that came to mind. He would need to speak with Alucard.
.
.
.
The dark, vast and empty hallways of the underground maze carved beneath the imposing Victorian manor were eerily silent, cold and lifeless. After returning to his chambers with the upcoming sunrise Alucard had spent a good part of the morning sitting in his chair bathe in utter darkness and cold grey mist up to his ankles. His legs were crossed, the right over the left, while his right arm remained draped over his lap and the left was bent at the elbow and resting on top of the armrest with the palm cradling his left cheek. He had his eyes closed and his previously short hair had slowly lengthened as time passed him by slowly since the sun had risen until the strands were all long enough to pass mid thigh should he choose to stand.
After a while the red of his magma colored irises shone brightly in contrast to the darkness of the room as heavy lashes rose slowly as if waking from a dream. The faint glow of only two rectangular shaped lights situated on both walls on either side of his chair sprang into life shortly after and cast sufficient light as not to have the entire room bathe in darkness any longer. Alucard raises his right hand summoning the same black leather bound book he'd taken back from Integra. He'd grown tired of sleeping...
Diary of Abraham van Hellsing
The bold lettering spelled out in faded golden color against the black leather binding the booklet.
There was more, so much more looked within those old, yellowed pages than the mere tales of an old man who'd captured a vampire. True, that part held the most value, but other entries in the life of one Abraham van Hellsing also proved to be of some worth. And of course, in the course of long years spent in servitude, he'd spent a good amount of time reading and rereading the elegant handwriting and fading ink phrases. It was perhaps out of boredom, self loathing, perhaps even simple curiosity that had the Count do it so many times over. It wasn't even a complete journal, more like a summary of those moments Hellsing had though of as most relevant above all others since his capture of the vampire. He'd had others far more detailed journals with some parts quite unpleasant to read even in his opinion. However, Alucard had taken care of them long ago as soon at the first opportunity.
1888, June 12
There is no point towards civil conversation with the vampire. He remains mute and silent in regards to any subject I attempt to use in our 'conversations'. At most he would most insult me as a lowly human unworthy, but sometimes I would succeed in acquiring 'proper' answer from the creature. It is strange to think, but he has never once referred to me again as Sir since that day. A quite peculiar notion cons…
Alucard stopped reading choosing to skip a few pages ahead. 'Sir' indeed, however, the notion did bring a subtle melancholic smile to his pale lips.
1888, June 24
A truly great day had blessed my meager existence; I have procured a new vampire. On a different note I am quite eager to finally see her and put my latest research notes to the test. The possibilities are truly endless especially if she were to prove as 'interesting' as the Count.
Dawn is approaching, best not let such beauty and opportunity slip from grasp.
The smile disappeared from his lips. His crimson eyes stared almost blankly at the aged yellow page and the large blot of ink smeared in the right side corner near the bottom of the page were the day's entry came to a close. His thoughts drifted to…
Flashback
A woman's screams bellowed loudly and echoed in the wide, barren space of the underground prison. The sleeping vampire stirred awake, his crimson eyes drifting open in the utter darkness round him. A groan passed his lips as his limb body, tired and sore, stirred awake in the damp darkness, sheer cold and emptiness of the retched cell holding him captive. He moved within the confinement of the blood darkened chains holding him prisoner for as much as they would grant him freedom. His head was bent as his long ebony hair hid most of his pale features except the twin blazing orbs which easily stood out. The tips continued to touch the stone floor until he completely straightened his posture and most of the pain felt from moving faded into nothingness. For exactly how many days he had slept remained unknown. One thing though, was certain: the shouting persisted. No, it intensified the further his body regained full use of all his senses. His lips curled back in a wicked smile. It would seem he would soon be having company. And by the sound of it she was a feisty one.
"Let go of me!" Her voice clearly rang just outside his door; a scream trailed by something broken and a man's pain filled screech.
/Yes, quite feisty./ Alucard concluded retreating into the darkest corner of the room. Soon after the door burst open and a body was less than gently shoved inside rolling down the flight of stairs. Two men came in after with a third remaining in the doorway clutching his broken left arm and breathing heavily. The door remained open casting light in the darkened room though most of it remained hidden in the shadows. The first one, closest to her, grabbed her by her long auburn hair only to shove her back down again.
"Vampire filth! We'll see just how long you last." He spat out mockingly before kicking her in her lower back where she was already injured. The other joined in as well showing little mercy for the obviously very young vampire. Alucard continued to stay hidden in the shadows contempt to simply watch for the time being, but all changed when his caught a glimpse of the female's face.
The ordeal lasted several minutes more before coming to a halt. The same man as before grabbed the front of her marred dress bringing her up. The second moved behind her. "Then again, trash like you could seem useful for other things as well. Beating you shouldn't be the only pleasure we get out of a whore like you."
The held her down ripping at her already tattered clothing while paying no heed to either the struggling or pleading. She was starving, beaten and forcefully kept away from the three day journey she had endured. She had been betrayed.
"N…no! Stop it!" She shouted crying tears of blood and fending them off to the best of her weakened abilities. Her terror increased as more and more cold air came in direct contact with her skin and one of the men began undoing his pants. She screamed again gathering all her remaining strength to free one leg as the grip upon it weakened. Success permitted her a triumphant strike which broke his nose spilling his blood. The pain freed her from her torment, but didn't pardon her from yet another savage beating.
"Miserable whore!" He threw her on the stone ground ready to bash her skull in. "I'll see you ne…." The rest of his words remained unspoken due to the fear inducing chuckle echoing all around them. The rattling of chains came next, their owner more than pleased by the reaction he got. So they hadn't forgotten him.
"One would think Van Hellsing taught you better than to enter a vampire's den alone." The depth of his voice and mischievousness of his tone all sounded somewhat amused at the mortal's evident stupidity. Alucard took one single step forward partially revealing his frame form within the darkness. Part of his left cheek, dirtied shirt and shackled left wrist came into view while the rest remained hidden in the shadows. His one narrowed auburn iris shone with glee at the sudden spike in fear and adrenalin. His fangs flashed for but an instant.
"He…help me…" The girl implored, hushed yet lowed enough to hear, as soon as her mind perceived the fact that another person found itself there and the shock of his words died out. There was no mistaking the deep baritone voice. "…please help me mas…"
"Quite!" The brown haired man holding her down yelled. He whipped the blood from his face then straightened his pants and got up.
"Leave the girl alone she's but a child." The way in which he spoke was calmly. He took several steps to the right despite there not being much room for him to do so due to the limitation imposed by the heavy chains holding him captive.
"Why? Because you say so?" He questioned turning from the girl. She in turn wasted no time whatsoever in rising to her feet and running over to the elder of her kind. She fell at his feet groaning in pain wrapping her arms around his bare shackled ankles.
Alucard spared a glance in her direction before moving it back up. His grin widened so much it made both men step back in fear. "Because…" It was the voice of death itself. They did not need to see the chains break or move to know death was upon them. Laughter filled the soon to be lifeless cell and the door closed swiftly and violently before third man standing next to it even had the slightest opportunity to move an inch. It squished him crushing his chest as the heavy metal body closed pinning him to the doorframe. His blood splattered an all of the nearby surfaces.
The brown haired man would be last, his friend first. He could do nothing but watch his head be torn straight off and its contents drank, still fresh and still warm, directly from the severed body part. The vampire held it above himself; right arm held up high and head leaned back as the liquid coated his tongue and the inside of his throat gulp after sweet sinful gulp. The rest of the man's body fell drained and lifeless to the floor without even being touched by the vampire. He never moved an inch from where he stood. "You're nothing but food."
Whatever happened next would forever remain between the hunter and his prey. The girl blacked out and the smell of blood soon faded into nothingness.
When she woke, sometime later, there was only darkness around her. The men were gone and the pain in her limbs surprisingly also. The cold remained regardless, somehow more intense across her back. Her eyes suddenly opened completely as she tried to move away but strong, lean arms kept her grounded and in place.
"Be still." The rough voice spoke demanding obedience before continuing with the task at hand. His long tongue went back to cleaning cuts over her back. Strands of ebony hair were sprawled all over her right shoulder as the vampire fed of her spilled blood, her still virginal blood. Finally, after so long, the tasted of blood in his mouth wasn't his own.
Alucard eventually pulled back easing his grip on her forearms and resetting her dress at the same time. She scurried away putting a little bit of space in between before turning around, eyes shining in the dark. Her actions amused the old vampire making him chuckle though only for a moment. "Foolish Childe." He spoke whispering sadness with each word. It was all he needed to say. The female vampire's head lowered causing her beautiful auburn curls to hide the shame her face depicted. The utter silence, cold and darkness around them only made things worse. Her master had made but one request of her and she had failed miserably.
Chain links rattled as the vampire sat back down in his lonely corner bringing his left leg up to his chest and placing his left arm on top of his left knee. His features remained calm
"Who are you?" Her voice came as a welcomed long forgotten whisper carried by the wind. She was smiling and, oddly, remising of an old event beneath a beautifully clear night sky and full moon. The question too was old, one she had asked of him before.
The vampire continued to sit in silence even after her question had been asked as if he was pondering the correct answer. Then, a light smirk prequels his reply.
"No one of importance."
Flashback end
Lucy…
The poor misguided child torn between the many decisions of life. She had been such a sweet and innocent creature, a taunting beauty which took pleasure in playing simple yet effective games with all those around her; a child in many ways.
Recalling it now, she was no older than Seras had been the night he turned her, both sharing beautiful azure eyes, pools broken pieces from the sky itself, and gold colored hair. The truth however, consisted of fiery curls shining brightly like a newborn flame with each sunrise and sunset. Dyeing her hair was just part of the game, a wing even easier, and Lucy loved to play. Day or night, she could make anyone move according to the invisible string she weaved beneath the banner of innocence yet manipulated with the skill and grace of an accomplished puppeteer.
The vampire's lip curled into a smirk at the fond memory. Few fledgling had the potential of being great and even fewer achieved it. She had been one of them.
And yet it seemed it was always a cruel twist of fate that deemed his separation from those fledglings before that step to be taken.
1888, June 27
The tests have proven rather disappointing as a start. Her Skin swells, reddens and burns so easily at the faintest touch of light; nothing like the Count's. It is most displeasing. I have made him suffer it for days without as much as a blemish, blister or scar. What could be the difference so great that it alters results with such intensity? Both undead, yet the female of the species seems weaker. Does the answer then lay perhaps in gender? Or age? I must know without failure.
I have considered this time and time, over and over…perhaps the fault is not mine but in the tests themselves. New subjects are required, a new final test one closer to heart; this will prove or disprove my theory beyond reasonable doubt.
In the corner, at the very end of the page lay a small depiction and a rather crude drawing of a stake. Ah yes, the stake, so many fond memories of that particular torture device; closer to heart indeed. Of course the man hadn't been foolish enough to test it out directly on his vampire, no. Instead he had men drained and turned; some of those never to be missed from the backstreets of London's more poor districts and later use these as more 'replaceable' subjects.
On a personal note, the ancient vampire had felt its sting several times against his own flesh never quite in the heart but close enough none the less. Heavy chains would hold him down strapped to a metal table already thoroughly soaked in his blood so that even it's original black color differed from it normally should have been had it not been for the excess crimson liquid staining it. Ironically, to this day, he knew exactly where that table and the stake were hidden within the lowest chambers of the vast dark dungeon. A thin layer of black coagulated blood still stained the stake's tip to this day in an almost taunting fashion. Both objects were the remains of a horribly painful period lost to the passage of time but also an important testimony to his arrogance, mistakes and weaknesses. His sole comfort was that within demise lay the bed for victory and the undeniable proof of his triumph over the old fool.
Placing the drawn image of the stake behind him, Alucard skipped a few pages more.
1888, September 8
Refusal to eat. To begin with, I had intended only to see for myself the effects of starvation on a vampire. Since he has stopped all manor of communication with it he I had hoped this as enough incentive to perhaps obtain a sentence. Nothing…
The test is still running and the Count has proven a quite fascinating subject as I have successfully kept him off the vial crimson substance for over a month now. Would a vampire have limited amounts of nourishment required to survive or are they trapped in an endless vicious circle of blood and death? Perhaps several months more would provide adequate answers. Perhaps I should include extending my research towards Lucy as well. Fate has brought the child back to me for a reason. Of course I will not be able to share such joyous new with poor Mina who is coming today for a visit. The creature has stripped her of a sister; I will not do the same. For her sake and that of the child she carries, Lucy shall remain dead.
1889, May 10
Mina has returned today, her son Quincy alongside. I must admit feeling content at seeing the small smile once again in the aftermath of his father's sudden death. To this day I have yet to comprehend the exact turn of events surrounding Jonathan's demise. He showed no signs of illness and left my house a healthy man before tuning up dead just hours later. There was blood all over the room and his body…perhaps it would be wise not to include such morbid aspects of that eventful morning. None of us had expected it and yet, whilst taking blood to the vampire, a rather odd if not unsettling occurrence took place and I have yet to make sense of. The Counts was laughing…laughing with more pleasure and satisfaction than I have ever witnessed. The way his eyes stared back at me held something truly frightening and not of this world.
He knew…and I could neither say nor do anything. That gaze, that unholly gaze held me trapped like never before. Somehow he knew….
I cannot feel a certain uneasiness regarding the subject. Just what did he know?
1889, July 9
I fear Lucy shall die of my desire for knowledge. I can see the effects written all over her body, spreading like few illnesses I have bore witness too in humans. It is truly fascinating. There is no ash or blood as one would normally expect in a beheading or a staking of a vampire. She is raked with fever and her skin actually burns to the touch, fascinating.
Each night she calls for her master and each night her call remains unanswered. I wonder if he waiting for her to die?
His Lucy was dying. Van Hellsing had pushed her beyond her limits leaving her with perhaps day to live at that point, if not less. As such he had found a way, he had found something far more interesting to occupy the man's ravenous interest in vampire abilities: Baskerville. The hound had sparked a sudden need for knowledge, one far more fascinating than the vampire's prolonged refusal to eat or speak or Lucy's slow and agonizing death. Plus it would provide his fledgling enough time to heal and run. And he saw her run. As her master he set his Childe free.
July 11
Lucy is dead.
The entry held no more.
Alucard closes the journal leaning back into his throne like chair with a low sigh and shutting his eyes for a moment. He did not need to read further. The greatest irony of life was that neither the living nor the dead had any true peace until truly dead. How strange, to have death the sole path to freedom. Reopening his eyes he turns the journal around in his hands in order to examine the sturdy spine cover and runs a gloved finger over its length before pushing down over the middle and opening the hidden compartment: a locket falls into his right palm from within.
The golden chain was unevenly broken and the center piece, a beautiful Victorian style white cameo on a black onyx bed, had a long diagonal crack running along its length like a hairline fracture on a bone. Fortunately the two pieces were still kept in perfect place due to the high quality craftsmanship used to make the exquisite piece of jewelry.
"I've seen your eyes linger upon it." The Count's deep voice resonated as one with the night surrounding him and his lady. "My gift to you until we meet again fair Mina."
Darkness had brought them together, Wilhelmina Murray. Whereas Lucy openly displayed her more mischievous nature, Mina did the exact opposite. Her eyes held the truth about her hidden nature deep within the pools of her seemingly innocent irises and it drew him like a mouth to a flame. She too had the potential for greatness, perhaps even more than Lucy at the time, but there wouldn't have been any true loyalty on her behalf. He knew that now. There was far too much pride and desire for power for her to submit to anyone but herself. And that had indeed been a rather humiliating experience. He had played the game, but she had proved herself better. She schemed and successfully manipulated everyone around her, himself included. And for that alone he still held respect for her. The world was pillared by the strength and determination of those refusing to give up and surrender their principals. And in the end…she'd given many other reasons for his anger towards her.
A second heavier sigh filled the room as he curled his long fingers around the black and white cameo. Why had he still kept it?
His thoughts drifted away from his former lover and found something else amongst the darkness lurking inside his mind. His grip tightened.
"I'm sorry….Master I'm sorry!"
Seras's voice filled the void and, as soon as it came, his hand crushed the cameo without a second though before throwing it across the room to his right; it hit the wall rather violently effectively shattering.
/Stupid fool. /He cursed himself for ever keeping the damned thing. Even now he still klinged to it for some unknown reason he himself could not fully grasp. There it was, after all the years passed, he knew exactly where to find it.
"I'm sorry…"
For a very long time that sentence and the pain in his child's voice had haunted his already restless sleep. It had been just a few months since the disastrous incident with Iscariot's new ace: Heinkel Wolfe. Like her mentor before her she became their new trump card in the war against Hellsing's new pet monster. The scar on Seras's chest remained as an ever present reminder, but as time passed more and more of the old Seras resurfaced replacing the utterly lost and vulnerable fledgling; replacing the sheer need of him she held so dearly and dwindling the new found affection awoken inside her as a lover. Each passing day brought them further and further apart. Touch became scarce and intimacy even more so. She would stare at him openly with large innocent doe eyes, large sky blue eyes as if the vampire inside had temporarily been placed in a deep slumber, her gaze lost and confused and him powerless to stop it.
In the end all he had been able to do was let her go. Let her forget, watch the crimson return drowning her irises in a pool of fresh blood and detach himself from the peace she had unknowingly brought in that one touch. And in one mistake, one dreadful and unforeseen mistake, he accelerated that very process faster than her could have ever imagined.
Flashback
"Master be reasonable." Seras attempted a touch of diplomacy while reaching with her right hand for the piece of jewelry in question. A hint of confusion and fear lingered in her sentence at the look her master was giving her. She never expected to be silenced the way she did: on the cold floor with a slap to the right cheek.
"Don't you dare disobey me! You will never wear it again or I will destroy you."
The young draculina stared at her master in disbelieve with her cheek red, swollen and throbbing from the force of the blow. She was far to stunned to say anything which in turn served to infuriate the elder more. His eyes held unimaginable rage within in them and she couldn't understand why?
He moved and she found herself back on her feet with her back slammed into one of the walls of his room and the fabric of her dress ripped to pieces. The green skirt went first as a swift and precise pull tor the stitches all the way. The long piece of material glided down to the floor as his fingers released it and instead went for the high collar of her top. Simultaneously two black tendrils took hold of wrist binding them together over her head as two thinner ones cut through the sleeves like paper. Before long she was left in nothing but the inner black corset, black thigh-high silk stockings with a lace welt at the end, black lace undergarments and small dark black boots.
"Ma…"
"Be silent!" Alucard roared while taking hold of the long golden chain of the pendant with his free right hand almost strangling her from the force he used. The metal dug into the skin of her neck and the back of his knuckles presses against her clavicles and Adam's apple. His other hand grabbed hold of the rim of the corset right over the middle of her chest. His first thought was to rip it just like the rest of the emerald dress but then he paused for about a second and instead had it cut with one of his black tendrils just like the sleeves.
"Master…." Seras pleaded with him attempting to break free but the vampire slammed her yet again into the structure of the wall, this time even stronger than the first, knocking the air out of her lungs. It took a good moment for her vision, though blurred, to return and for her body to register the impact but also for the vampire to act. She came out of it just in time to hear the sound of the corset being ripped echo around her and fell the upper part of her body exposed to the coldness of the dungeon's atmosphere.
She was still pinned to the wall with her arms firmly held above her head and her attire in ruins and anything but innocent. The paleness of her flawless skin shone more brightly in contrast to the dark color of the flimsy pieces of fabric she had on. The corset had joined the ruined skirt pooling around her ankles and left in his place a thin, formfitting, pale green undershirt that clung to her curses like a second skin and ended a little over her bellybutton. It too bared a cut in the middle, a cut formed the moment the tendril in question acted like a knife following the path set by his hand. The corset had been cut through but the undershirt barely halfway as if to provide the young woman some sort of dignity. Nevertheless, the gap in the fragile piece of fabric ended about an inch under her chest which, along with the position of her arms, accentuated the swell of her breasts even more that usual: the very middle of her torso as well as the inner quarter of her breasts were left out in the open, completely exposed and at the mercy of his currently frightening gaze. Now more than ever, the perfect hourglass shape of her body was displayed for all to see from the fullness of her chest to the small dip of her waist and sensual curved form of her hips ending with two long and slender legs that seemed to go on for miles just begging to be touched.
The tug on the thug golden chain increased and Seras found herself forced to meet her master's gaze. The two were so close their faces and noses all but touched. Yet as thrilling as that intense and erotic moment could have been, the sheer furry radiating from the man's beautiful crimson irises ruined it all frightening her to such intent she could feel it deep inside her bones. There was nothing there except bitterness and anger over something she truly could not understand in the least. It was just a dress and a mere locket, something she had found discarded I one of the unused rooms of the manor's third floor. Integra had gladly given them to her.
The chain draws blood cutting into the flesh of her neck.
"You will never wear this again." His tone was fierce, harsh, demanding and all consuming against her skin and full round lips; by the feel of it alone it issued a meaningful threat not to be taken lightly. Alucard then jerked his hand pulling yet again as if to wake her. He was not satisfied with the lack of a proper answer. "Do you understand?" the crimson of his orbs scorched her flesh as fire would a heretic tied to a stake and chills of pure terror consume her fragile form as he decreased the remaining distance between them more molding his rigit body against her softer one. The draculina did not dare move neither arms nor legs much less turn her gaze away from the inner demon he'd become in the blink of an eye. Instead she faced him head on and succeeded in replying.
"Yes…" she could barely speak.
"Again!" he demanded. There would definitely be an deep cut on the back of her neck and a large bruise around her wrist by the time he was satisfied.
"I…I understand master. I will…" Blood ran down the corners of her eyes.
"You will not what?" he growled that final word baring his fangs like a true monster taking her breath away. He'd never been this savage before. He held her so firmly it was as almost as if he were touching her in an almost intimate and erotic manner; a master vampire dominating his fledgling and a body language that seemed to want to change from controlling to taking. Alucard controlled her with a passion never before displayed while blond vampire found herself in a the strange position of longing, of wanting to know what could possible happen next despite the utter terror rolling off her in waves. The closer he got, the deeper she gazed into his frightening eyes and saw another emotion swell within them: pain, deep heart shattering pain. He was hurting but it was so deeply buried beneath layer upon layer of anger that it was barely strong enough to survive.
Seras's breathing hitched as he started getting closer and closer, his mouth moving in as though he were about to kiss her. The darkness in his eyes grew and his eyes turned a very dark red. A whimper threatened to leave her throat as he swllowed her breath and her lips began to mimic his and…
"Alucard!" Integra's voice shattered through the moment like a brick through glass seconds. She had been halfway down the staircase leading into the vampire's room when the sight of the two vampires had stopped her in her tracks. Alucard was pinning his half naked fledgling to the wall with her clothes ripped from her flesh and thoroughly scattered all around her as her chest all but spilled out off her undershirt while he hovered like a predator waiting to devour her at any moment. "What the hell are you doing?" her older though powerful tone demanded as she wasted little time in approaching the two.
"Stay where you are." Alucard demands not taking his eyes off the blond draculina. "The Police girl and I have unfinished business to attend." Whatever change had appeared in his eyes disappeared in the blink of a second turning them once more cold, bitter and angry. Unfortunately, the situation was not something the old knight was willing to walk away from and simply let happen. Good God she'd nearly felt her old heart stop beating when she descended down the flight of black stairs and saw the manner in which Alucard was treating the most loyal of all creations ever to serve him. All that was missing from the picture were his pants of the floor and blood running down the girls thighs.
"Get away fro her Alucard that's an order!" she shouted causing the ancient runes over the back of his hands to glow brightly.
Sadly, he paid them little head and continued to focus his entire attention on his whimpering child. "Answer me!"
"Alucard!" Integra moved in closer.
"Tell me!"
"Alucard release her!"
"You will tell me now!" he growled in her face and the sound of its vibrations resonated inside his chest and thus against hers as well. Seras shut eyes in fear as she could no longer bare him witness.
"Servant I order you to let her go and step away! Now Alucard! Move that's the last time I'm saying it!"
There was no lenience to be held within the knight's voice as she asserted her control over the vampire and took hold of his right forearm. The contact, though harmless in itself, fueled the power of the imprisoning seals and caused tremendous pain to shoot through the vampire's limbs forcing him to obey.
"Let her go!"
"I'm sorry!" Seras shouts startling both master and servant with its intensity. A fresh wave of crimson pearls falls down her cheeks and the chain of the pendant snaps in half behind her neck fractions of a second before the binding runes enforced the knight's will upon the vampire setting her free of his hold. The two golden pieces of string then dangled form Alucard's closed fist as his arm drops next to his side. "I won't do it again master, I'm sorry! I won't wear it again. I'm sorry, I'm…I…I..."
She sobs violently unable to hold back her fear and tears any longer; her blue eyes turn red without warning and her body passes though the wall instinctively remembering how just to escape.
The back of Alucard's white gloves turned red with his blood from the touch of the seals upon his bare flesh and his knuckles dripped drop after drop onto the stone floor next to his black boots. The glow finally retreated and his fist unclenched letting the cameo pendant to drop and land over the three small droplets which had fallen earlier. It was over, it was all over and he'd gotten what he so desperately had desired but…
A sharp and sudden pain and even harsher words echoed in the room seconds after.
"How dare you? If you ever much as go near her again I'll see it as the last thing you ever do!" Alucard's head had been jerked to the left from the impact of the slap to his right cheek. "How dare you?" she shouted in pure indignation.
"Get out." He replied far too calmly.
"You will stay away from her until I allow it!" The runes started to glow once more as a new order was on the verge of being born. "You will neither speak nor interact with her in any way until further notice!"
"You gave her…" he began but was brutally cut off.
"You are confined to your fucking chambers Servant! And you are ordered to never touch her again!"
The order was clear and the command embedded within the runes. Finishing, Integra took a moment to steady her breath before making a move to turn and leave the vampire to his punishment.
"You gave her this filth." Was all he said, not a word regarding the order. "You gave her this!" his right foot rose and stomped the cameo shattering it into tiny pieces. The calmness left his hoarse baritone voice and only resent filled it now. "Of all the things you cloud have found and given this had to be it! This! And yet you dare come here and act the way you did. Do you think me a fool? Do you think me such a man that I am without honor?"
"Did you look at her?" Integra inquired without having to utter the whole sentence; it was self implied as Alucard's eyes unwillingly offered her the answer the very moment he turned to no longer face her icy stare.
"No, no you did not Count." She continued filled with such contempt for what she'd bore witness. "Where's the honor in that?"
"This is not my doing master. It was yours."
"Really?" she countered forcing him to look back into her face. Her right hand once again grabbed his forearm twisting his body in its former position before her. "Then why are you the one lacking basic control? Requesting would have gotten you your worthless sorry. She didn't know."
"You gave it to her!" he would not let the subject drop regardless.
"I gave her a trinket long before my time that she happened to like. And if that box near the attic had bothered you so much it would not still be there after all this time."
There was little the vampire could say in return as every word spoke was the truth however displeasing it might have been. He'd had all the time in the world to remove unwanted memories from his presence and yet he hadn't. The fault was his and no one else's.
"Look at what you've done. How much more are you willing to break her? How much longer can you stand hurting her the way you do?"
That said the knight turned leaving the vampire to wallow in self pity. She would not be revoking her order any time soon that much was for sure. The iron door slammed behind her allowing some her own anger to escape. And in her wake the words 'You are a fool' echoed even louder.
Flashback end
And still the piece of jewelry had survived. Integra had eventually recovered it from the vampire's chambers and returned it amongst the memoirs of his former life, but he had found it a different home and still held onto it. Perhaps, somewhere deep down amongst the madness ravaging his mind, he welcomed the anguish and despair it brought him.
With the bond broken they were master and servant once again. Master, cold and sterile. A title without a hint of emotion behind it. Seras barely returned to her room that night before she fell unconscious. And when she woke sometime later she remembered nothing: nothing of the year lost to Iscariot's weapon and her almost dying, nothing of the mission they had been sent on that fateful night and nothing concerning the almost one year relationship she had shared with her master. There wasn't anything other than an empty void lingering inside her eyes whenever he took the time to look deep enough.
And yet, the scent of her blood lingered in his coffin and the taste of her flesh tormented his being urging him to take just one bite, to drink his fill and partake in the divinely sinful pleasure her body so beautifully offered. Every chaste touch, every discreet glace from then on made his crimson eyes linger a bit more on her face each time he looked her way. It made him remember, remember she had been his.
The light began to fade behind him letting the room drown in the darkness that matched his heart. His head dropped into his open right palm hiding his face entirely.
Alone in the dark, the journal would continue to amuse him as tragedy often did when he had nothing else. Blood lettering filled the very last page of the journal in a far different handwriting; words added at a much later date.
The bird of Hermes is my name, eating my wings to make me tame.
Eating my wings to seize the night and curse the light.
Eating my wings to die alone in the dark.
"Alucard..." Walter's voice breached through the wall of darkness surrounding him.
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To be continued...
My next chapters will probably be next week as i've said before. I have a few minor things to alter regarding the plot but it's around 99% finished.
The story in itself is probably 70-80% done, so I still need to come up with the proper ending.
So...that's abotut it for now and although it's been a really long time, I'd still apreciate some feedback on this chapter.
shadow out.