Alucard

Chapter 21

A/N: The fight is on! And you're reading about it! Muahaa! Hahaha! Haahaha! Im mental! Well, actually, all this typing up I getting tedious I should've mentally writte it instead…I love this fic but there's something about copying that stunts your creative floooooow, so….note to self: no more typing up! Ever!

Shout out to ma peeps! Andrew! (jewelry stealer!!) Rachel!- Overly enthusiastic ¬¬ whether that's good or bad…we'll find out soon enough.

Anyway, once again: Marie, thank you looooots!

Scotland, not exactly well-known for its good weather anyway, seemed to be infected with Britain's bad weather and as the aircraft touched down in an abandoned field, rain pelted the metal body at high speed and winds buffeted the craft as we levitated a few inches from the ground, spoiling an otherwise perfect landing.

Molly and I wasted no time in vacating the aircraft and stepping out into the harsh conditions of Scotland, Molly's hair was thrown back behind her, twisting and twirling around her shoulders as it had done when she had danced along the terrace. "Shall we do a quick reconnaissance?"

"As is custom," I motioned for Molly to follow me into the thick woodlands, the trees and bushes created shelter for us and the harsh breeze was kept off our backs as we stepped over bracken and moss. Molly scanned the forest floor for signs of tracks, while I scanned the trees, straining my ears to hear voices and thoughts. Molly sniffed suddenly.

"Urgh, Marlboro," She crouched and pawed through moss until she found a cigarette end, "It's only an hour or so old," she muttered to herself, she scanned the branches in the vicinity, "It is like they just….flew," I snorted.

"You're getting too imaginative, they flicked the cigarette," I flicked a series of broken branches a few feet from the spot she was looking at, Molly's cheeks heated up as I smirked and motioned for us to carry on.

The sudden gust of wind broke free of the trees and blew my hair behind me, the rim of my hat shivering against the sudden movement. I caught Molly glaring at my hat, obviously still annoyed at Pip for violating her prized possession.

"It'll be interesting, won't it, my Red-clad friend?" Molly whispered almost inaudibly as we carried on stealthily through the woodlands, the clamour of voices, shouts and thoughts cut into the periphery of my hearing.

"Definitely," I answered with a sadistic grin as thorns tugged at the hem of my duster, it recoiled away from the thorns' grip; Molly stumbled, still sniffing the air. As a gust of wind cut through the branches overhead an all too familiar scent stung my nostrils. Molly crouched down again; I followed her at seeing a mound of loosened moss thrown on top of something. A darkened patch of soil betrayed the move the moss had made and I pulled the moss back to find a shallow grave, a girl lying face down in the wet soil, neck intact, but her body far from untouched. Her skirt was raked up to reveal her thighs and backside.

Molly gagged. "Sick bastard," she whispered, turning the girl over and smoothing her skirt down to cover her thighs and straightening her blouse. "She's underage as well, paedophilic male rapist bastards," She stood back up.

"The scent is strong," Molly looked up at me, her face stoic but her eyes gleaming with anger, "There's more around here," Molly sucked her teeth and carried on through the woodlands, the blue of her coat swishing over golden bracken and emerald green ferns. We headed in the opposite direction of the noise and towards the scent of death which lingered in the air.

The only noise came from the patter of rain upon the large oak leaves above us, the rainfall slowing and the breeze, though still harsh, not nearly as powerful. The trees thinned and we stepped into a small abandoned quarry, an old static standing in one corner beneath the main quarry ledge, moss and grasses had grown over the rock so it had been abandoned for quite some time. Molly skidded on the loose rocks and down into the centre of the quarry, I followed her noiselessly and we continued to search the quarry.

"The static's been in use," Molly whispered to me as she jumped up the stairs and looked inside. My eyes fell onto a strange formation on the ground, mounds were heaped up into the shape of a pentagram, stones and crystals were littered around the outer edge with stains and pools of blood in the very centre. The stench of death and decay came from the make-shift alter.

Molly jumped over the banister and appeared at my elbow, sniffing the air, "How much are you willing to bet that the whole pentagram is made of corpses?"

"A lot," Molly crouched down and dug into the soil, not caring as mud splashed over her hands and coat and matted her long hair. She snarled under her breath, pulling a hand out of the muddy mess, "Those witch whores repulse me! These are young children!"

"Who think they're adults," I cut in, sticking my hand into my duster and pulling out my mobile. "There's an abandoned quarry a mile into the woodlands, it seems to be the witches' altar,"

"We'll send in Seras and a few others, now find the field and make sure nothing untoward is going to happen- lead them back to the altar, we can deal with them there," Integra hung up and I turned to Molly who was knelt down in the centre of the mounds, dipping her fingers in a pool of blood. "What are you-" Molly licked her fingers and ran her tongue over her lips thoughtfully.

"It isn't human blood, it tastes...foreboding,"

"'Foreboding' is one adjective I would not associate with blood,"

"Poison can taste sweet, just as blood can taste...wrong," She sucked her finger thoughtfully, "Demonic, certainly not vampire or freak, or witch, for that matter,"

"If it tastes as good as your blood this demon will be quit e a nice meal, I think it would only be fitting that I finish him off,"

"It doesn't have a demure kick, I'm afraid, my friend," Molly's eyes narrowed, "It just tastes dark,"

I jerked my head in the direction of the faint noise, "Come on," Molly trotted to my side and kept in pace with me as we carried on through the woodlands, Molly's steps were almost silent as she cut through bracken and stepped over thorns, brambles and wildflowers. The sky was a dark grey with slowly thinning rain clouds, the music of raindrops dwindling into whispers as the rainfall all but stopped. The Scottish breeze flinched away from us and the night become uncannily still, just as a warrior's camp becomes uncannily quiet before an ambush. Molly's fingers twitched beside her thigh, next to the sword in a beautifully decorated sheath and the SW1911 hidden in her thigh holster. To top it all off, she even had her trusty crossbow hanging on a strap diagonally across her chest.



"Surely they can't all have been born with that gift," Molly whispered to herself as we carried on through the tall silhouettes of trees, through the tangle of weeds and thorns and over fallen or dead trees.

"Well, it is possible. Human's only use ten percent of their brains, if you are able to, you could easily tap into the other ninety percent and attain magical gifts,"

"Obsidian, Onyx, sapphire and ruby, they're all used to summon demons," She mused, "I reckon they got their gifts from a demon,"

"What demon would willingly give powers to witches?" I scoffed, Molly chuckled in response.

"No demon willingly gives away anything-"

"Exactly-"

"But if the witches all had potential magic- which you can test easily by using a combination of elements, a baptism of sorts, drinking a strange concoction of opium poppy seeds, sage, salt water, absinthe and willow-bark and going through a week of meditation- and they acquired the demon's seal, an object he had once used often enough for his supernatural indent to have manifested into the very fabric of it, and if you were all capable of containing the demon's power in a circle, then you could control him. He would have to give you whatever you wanted. If the witch wanted his baby he would have to impregnate her, if she wanted the power to see into the future, he would have to do it. And, once you are finished with getting what you want, to send him back to his own spiritual plane all you have to do is kill him- hence, demon blood,"

"One: how do you know all that isn't superstition? Two: I should imagine the demon would be pretty pissed off with being used and not getting anything in return,"

"Of course he would be, but, depending on the demon, he might get something back. Soldier demons are notorious for fighting against a summoning unless two of the summoners are sacrificed to him; he uses the blood to create a new body. The weaker messenger demons couldn't fight against an old aged pensioner in a wheel-chair, let alone a summons, so, if you really want a demon they're your safest bet," Molly's hand tapped at the place her hat had been forlornly.

"Do you miss your hat?"

"Bien sur! I feel positively naked without it!"

"Perhaps, after the harvesting scheme has been thwarted, someone shall get a new one for you," Molly gave me a quizzical look.

"The darker blue top hat was the one I cared for most- my mother gave it to me as a birthday present, it's value was sentimental and so could never be replaced," Though I knew Molly well enough to know that she acted and thought, mostly, like a human; but somehow it felt rather odd to picture her sitting at a table with the elusive Barnibus and her white haired mother with a large birthday cake sitting in front of her, the candles alight and Molly wearing a birthday hat. No, it just didn't seem Molly's style (could she even eat cake?), perhaps something a little more ceremonial. An image of Molly dressed in a formal dress at a table with salad and wine and toasts over champagne popped into my head, a small smile turned my lips, yes, that seemed far more Mollyesque.

"Are we close, Red?" Molly asked, visibly concentrating on listening for noises and screams or any other sounds, "My ears are still ringing after Seras' unprincipled attack," Molly sniffed irately and her eyes flashed, no doubt mentally grumbling and concocting a scheme of revenge.

The ground started to throb with the beat of music, the air screaming with drums and guitars as we neared the field, shouts and screams echoed through the woodlands ominously and the sudden stirring of breeze moved the sounds in such a way that, if you close your eyes, you could picture girls dancing through the woodlands this way and that, screaming and laughing. No doubt the teenagers thought something along those lines as well, considering the smell of their "cigarettes".

"We're almost there," I answered. The air throbbed harder as we neared and I cringed away for a moment, already feeling the inevitable headache creep into my skull- why do teenagers listen to such crap? Every teenager I had encountered within the last seven years listened to the loudest, most aggravating music they could; it was all noise! Occasionally I would find a song or two that I enjoyed listening to, but on the whole, music was just a migraine.

Molly's taste in music was excusable, her favourite bands doing mostly instrumental or vocals instead of a combination of screaming and loud guitar solos, and she made sure to choose bands with limited funding so they couldn't slice and dice a song into "perfection", like some musicians did. Dark Sanctuary were quite beautiful, the lyrics were moving and, of course, the lead singer's swelling and mellifluous voice never stopped to please- and they're songs could be quite creepy. The second of her three favourite bands being a Latin group, Rodrigo y Gabriela, which specialized in Spanish guitar music and third being some gothic group that, though they incorporated loud guitar music, seemed tolerable to me, especially with the lead singer's amazing vocals, the name of that band escapes me though.

It seemed most songs now were "sung" by people who had no idea how to carry a tune; the songs were edited so much that, to a vampiric ear, notes were changed rapidly and skipped throughout entire songs and usually carried such a strong beat that my ears throbbed. There were a hundred reasons why I hated modern music; Molly seemed to understand this more so than Seras, who, even though her ears were more sensitive since her turning- I guess old habits die hard. But, rock and metal was my kind of thing- if it was turned down enough that I didn't get a headache- the atmosphere created by the provocative lyrics always made me want to kill something, got me in the mood, as it were. Molly preferred t calm herself before a kill: "I wouldn't want to go in over-excited and end up having a heart-attack, would I?" she'd snap venomously. She still seemed agitated that I thought her as easily excitable, strange creature.

A chorus of shouting, screams and drunken hooting echoed from the large field; the drunken teenagers weren't visible, they were obscured from view by tall grasses that had, most definitely, not been tended to for some years. The whole five acres was abandoned, the stables and barns, even the old house, had been abandoned for years, the extra two or three acres of woodland, the quarry, all was ours to use how we pleased. Depending on how many freaks and witches there were, we could spread their killings over an expanse of seven acres- oh, tonight was going to be fun!

"Now, now, my friend, please could you reign in those sadistic instincts of yours, I'd hate for you to become over-zelous, you seem to become easily excited of late," she winked at as she pushed through the grasses a soft chuckle escaping her lips, cut short as she made to tilt her hat at me in her usual silent "good-luck", only to find her head naked. She sniffed tentatively and carried on. "Perhaps you're rubbing off on me, Molly," I countered from beside her, "I can't remember ever being easily excited before meeting you," Molly sniggered.

She crouched low and sprinted through the field of tall grasses like wind, her feet barely making any noise her body swerving with the dexterity of a lithe feline. She paused and waited for me to catch up as I glanced over the grasses to the large area where the grasses had all been cut and mown down for the parties, where crates had been piled up to make a sort of stage the held two large barrels of a beverage- probably beer- and two large speakers that thrummed with the heavy metal music. Heads bobbed as boys ran into each other and wrestled drunkenly with the music. A few dozen trucks were parked along the periphery of the party area; one red pick-up truck held more 

speakers in the back and several other cars hid sexually charged teenagers.

I returned my attention to Molly, who's eyebrows were elevated in expectation, her half-smile playing at her lips as she waited patiently. She had once never waited for me, never cared if I were to get caught and ripped to pieces, but since our fight over the that disgusting slime-ball Faust she had seemed to wait for me, patiently, seemed to take pleasure in fighting by my side, seemed to enjoy watching me rip people apart just as she did. She took pride in being my fighting companion, and it was nice to finally find someone I had something in common with- doubly pleasant that it was fighting.

Black smoke rose into the air, furling and unfurling into the dark folds of clouds, as a group of teenagers lit a large bonfire in the centre of the field, cheers echoed over the music as everyone started to dance around the bonfire with cans in their hands. They jumped into each other, pushed each other to the ground, and persuaded each other to duck into the grasses for a sly romp, altogether they acted like maddened trogladites, the black smoke billowed about them and the whole clearing was illuminated, showing red faced youths and blushing girls. Molly's lip curled, her eyes flashes and a look of utter disgust crumpled her angular features. "These children are ruining themselves...they repulse every molecule in my being," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, "Why don't we just let those witches take out their frustrations and then kill the assailants?"

"That isn't how we work. They are innocent, no matter how much sex they have and beer they drink. I reckon you envy them," I sniggered as a boy cornered to girls and whispered into their drunken ears one after the other, both girls looked at each other and draped their arms around him as he gave the thumbs up to his friends smoking in the back of a pickup truck. Molly gave me a disbelieving look, "I suppose I'm jealous of their rather splendid assortment of STIs and their early acquirement of liver failure,"

"Well, have you ever just relaxed?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth as I carried on watching the scene unfold.

"I don't need to relax, I need to kill Maximus, I need to find Mathias and Corinne and save the innocent public from mass execution,"

"Everyone needs to unwind-"

"Yes, and spreading my legs will help me unwind, won't it? I pity those whores," she hissed, her face softened and her eyes glistened with pity as a boy started to roughly remove a girls clothes in the grass just a few to the right of us. Molly turned her head away from the scene, though I noticed her ball and unball her fists rhythmically as she thought about punishing the almost-rapist with her favourite form of punishment: castration.

The girl started to protest, Moly stiffened, "Disgusting bastard," she hissed, "Won't.Be.A.Second," she snarled, cutting past me gracefully and standing over the boy as he continued to undress her, the girl started to cry. "I think you need a little lesson in manners, boy, when a girl says 'no' she means 'if you don't get your hands off me right now I'll blow your brains out'," she cocked her gun and pressed it to the side of his head, "But, seeing as this girl doesn't seem to have any weapons with her, I think I might pull the trigger."

"L-look, bitch, ae danno whae y' problem is, boot thaes whore wants me," Came his accented reply.

"Wrong answer, boy," Molly grabbed him by his long, greasy brown hair and span him around and proceeded to beat the shit out of him. I turned my eyes back to the party, the music quietened and a girl in a skirt and bikini top stood on the crates, "hey! Wae got a surprise fo' y'!" She screamed, "A drinkin' contest!" She gestured to two large boys on either side of the stage; both 

stepped up, two smaller boys following them on. Hose pipes were attached to the barrels and the larger boys lifted them up as the smallest of the group popped the hose pipes in their mouths. The crowd cheered, shouting for them to drink as the girl pranced around the stage swinging her hips.

Molly returned, fists bloodied, "Fell better?" I asked apathetically.

"Much. I had to knock the girl out too, she was putting up an awful lot of a fuss, especially after I saved her dignity. You would think that disserves an allegiance of secrecy, wouldn't you, but she insisted she was going to the police," Molly looked up at me, "Have you ever tried getting out of their cells?"

"No, I'm not so sloppy that the police would catch me," Molly pulled a face.

"Well, I assure you, escaping those cells is about as easy as blowing your nose," She started at seeing the drinking competition, "Oh, how intelligent, haven't these humans ever heard about hyperhydration?"

"I doubt it, they don't seem to know anything about sexually transmitted infections either," Molly snorted. "Looks like the witches are being coy with us. Come, we'll smoke them out,"

"Won't need to," Molly's smile broadened, her fangs lengthened as the headphones exploded. The drinkers on stage pulled out their pipes and choked in surprise while the largest pair squared their shoulders and the girl shrieked her body flying through the air directly at us. I caught the girl easily, rolling my eyes as she shrieked in surprise and embraced me thankfully, "Ae could've died! Oh, mae God!" She screeched.

"Don't count your blessings yet," I snarled, dropping her unceremoniously to the floor.

"Boot, y' saved me!" She cried on the floor as I stepped over her and entered the clearing.

"Tell it to someone cares," I snarled as I pulled out my two faithful guns, Molly had jumped into action, fangs extended and crossbow in hand. Chaos unravelled itself as teenagers screamed, stopping in the almost silence in sheer terror and not really knowing whether to run or just fight. Human nature prevailed as over a dozen black-clad women stepped through the grasses, their tongues clicking in a mellifluous Gaelic language as they chanted and the young party-goers made for the cover of the forest, little did they know that another seven freaks waited in the grasses with their thirty-odd ghouls at hand.

The leading witch threw her hand out, four teenage boys stopped dead and turned, eyes round and awestruck as they ran to her side, cooing affection at her until she shoved guns into their hands- then all softness failed and evil seeped in, they turned on their friends shooting their friends' kneecaps so as to make it an easier meal for the freaks the stepped through the golden grasses laughing uproariously as girls squirmed in their grip and jaws.

Molly let loose bolts at the freaks, one hitting home and turning the disgusting creature to dust before he could open his mouth for an, "oh, crap". Molly grinned jubilantly, aiming more bolts at the rest of the freak assailants, leaving the witches to me- how generous of her, she knew I liked new things to fight.

Teenagers fell to the ground, screaming as ghouls and freaks set upon them tearing them apart and eating them alive. Jackal hummed ecstatically as bullets threw from its barrel into ghouls and the unfortunate teens that had let themselves fall into the freaks' grasps. Next my attention turned to the witches, the priestess catching more men in her web, telling them to round up friends, to die for her, anything. Obviously someone is drunk on power, though who can blame you, terror does taste sweet.

I shot at the witches, the weaker, not being able to protect themselves, fell to the ground dead or bleeding to death; the remaining witches, the strongest, mushrooms my shells, small explosions ricocheting off invisible barriers. The Priestess sneered at me, her long brown hair curling around her shoulders as a harsh Scottish breeze caught her.

The familiar tingle of recoil in my hand sent tremmers up my spine as another bullets slipped through a barrier and imbedded itself in a witches skull, blood and tissue sprayed the other witches beautifully, the shock of losing their friend set in, three more dropped their guard and my bullets brought them to their knees, mentally begging for the pain to stop.

Nine remained.

A quick glance in Molly's direction told me that the freaks, ghouls and mesmerised boys had managed to herd the rest of the party into the woodlands for the main course, Molly had followed them. The grasses were crumpeled and a long corridor had presented itself through the wash of gold now stained with red and littered with corpses and those not yet dead. The smell of blood filled my nostrils, my undead heart expanded in joy at seeing that half of the corpses were the ghouls themselves- Molly was really on top form tonight.

The witches carried on chanting loudly, my ears tingled with the noise, cars, barrels, corpses and crates flew at me and I skipped past them easily, laughing loudly, "Is that the best you've got?" The witches faltered and I jumped into action, gripping another witch and ripping off her arms and legs, tossing her to the winds without a moment's hesitation. The witches screamed, the chanting stopping, the crackling in the stopped and they sprinted for the woodlands.

The priestess, courageous and honourable as she was, went to the back, still throwing cars and any other heavy object at me; but still I laughed and danced away from the obstacles. These creatures were easy prey, easily dealt with, but I wanted to make the most of this while I could.

Screams rippled through the air, girls rushed through the brush with the breeze, hair whipping about them as they sobbed, hearts screaming for rest- but still creatures pursued them. I wondered, briefly, where Molly was, whether she had finished off the freaks and was working her way through the ghouls or vice versa; knowing Molly as I did she had probably turned on some of the more disgusting boys in her excitement and was enjoying ripping a rapist's neck to pieces in her moment of quiet- she wouldn't be eating for a week, I imagined.

A fallen tree flew at me through the bushes, the shapes of the women drifted across the thorns and turned left abruptly. I grinned, speeding up and running alongside them easily, "Tired yet?" I laughed, the priestesses eyes narrowed, her cheeks flushed as she pushed herself to her limits, her colleagues visually falling back. She gritted her teeth and called out a spell quickly, outline glowed a dull gold, as did all the trees and living things around her and her friends. They sped up, grinning as the energy of every other living thing filled them enough for them to make it to their desired destination- a clearing wherein a boulder stood alone in the centre, a glove and ruby stood on the altar and it seemed they were readyin themselves for something.

Three figures immerged from the trees, the last of the freak, their clothes soaked in blood, they're bodies humming with a night's gluttonous feeding. The witches halted in a formation around the stone, three silent bolts shot through the air and hit the freaks clean in the heart, each one dropped to the floor in piles of ash and dust. Molly jumped down from the tree, panting excitedly, cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming brightly even in the darkness, "Such a...beautiful evening," She gasped, cradling her beloved crossbow and then slinging it over her shoulders.

The chanting became louder, the ground throbbed and Molly snarled, taking out her 1911 and firing whole-heartedly at the witches in turn, but the bullets mushroomed and exploded in on 

themselves against a barrier. "Bloody hell," Molly snarled, her fangs flashing as she snapped her jaws at them, eyes dancing across the clearing for any sign of a weakness, but none came, a haze had settled around the women, there was no way to shoot them down.

"You took care of the freaks?"

"Yes,"

"The ghouls?"

"Yes, and any unfortunates that were bitten,"

"good. Where are the last of the teenagers?"

"The quarry, I knocked out the mesmerised boys and had the Geese help out."

The ground rumbled, the Scottish breeze hit hard, my hair flying back into the wind, the gusts of wind scratching over my skin and Molly's, the leaves on the trees rustled noisily and pebbles on the ground jittered. "How intriguing, I hope I get to eat one of those doxies soon," Molly grinned, her tongue darting out to run along her porcelain white fangs, I couldn't agree more. I couldn't wait to rip out those linguistic tongues of theirs; the continuous jabbering was starting to give me a headache.

Cracks opened up to the east and west of the formation, which, now I looked, stood upon a pentagram painted on the ground in salt. The woodlands moaned as trees nearest us tumbeled and roots writhed to the surface of the ground underneath our feet, rearing like the heads on snakes. Molly's eyes still roamed, she jumped into the only standing tree left, watched keenly for a waning in the barrier.

Long rope-like roots shot out of the east and west crack, wrapped around the torsos of the unfortunate witches nearest and pulled them deep into the holes without a noise. Not even a scream came as blood and tissue exploded into the air in the centre of the circle, the barrier waned just as the roots slipped in and Molly jumped from the tree at the Priestess, fangs sinking into her arm. The priestess screamed the rest of the chant as Molly ripped harder, the brunette grabbed her sister and pushed her into Molly and, quite obviously, Molly's reaction was to kill her too. The slightly curved fangs ripped into her chest, breaking open ribs and pulling out innards, blood splashed over Molly's face and drenched her clothes but this seemed to spur her on. She shrieked as a force within the circle threw her out and against the tree she had jumped from just moments before.

The blood from the cracks in the ground still hung in the air as the witches carried on shouting their chant, the liquid bubbled, a mouth opening into a long laugh as yellow, reptilian eyes opened. Roots along the ground shivered and grew up over the boulder, crushing the ruby and discarding the glove, growing up and twisting into the blood that floated in the air; the liquid still bubbled as ligaments and bones were grown from the roots, more roots flying from across the clearing the wrap around the exposed bones and ligaments to form white blossom skin and veins and arteries. "Great Genral, wae call fo' y' in oor time of need, wae 'ave given y' blood, now wae ask fo' y' to kill t'e vampire and it's evil mistress and give us oor great powers," The Priestess looked up at the formation adoringly. Mistress? Surely she doesn't mean the cruel looking creature crouching by the tree? I glanced at Molly, still crouching, reptilian eyes focused on the goings on, her heart picking up an exciteable beat as her fangs glistened pink and her mouth turned into a cruel smile.

Clothes blossomed on top and a man shook his head, running his large, calloused hands through his long brown locks adoringly. His gruff voice cut like diamond over glass and his eyes turned to the priestess as she bled profusely, his legs still growing from the roots around him, his body throbbing.



"Oh, what a night to be summoned," He sighed. The roots along the ground gleamed scarlet as they moved over the salt into a pentagram formation and the Demon looked at each witch in turn, pausing at the hunch disembowelled figure outside of the circle and then Molly and myself. Molly stood up from her crouching position, moved to my side quickly, panting gleefully, her tongue running along her fangs in turn, "Ready for something incredibly interesting, my friend, Red?" Her voice was edged with excitement, I grinned turning my attention back to the witches who all stared at the man adoringly, almost lovingly as he dusted down his old-fashioned attire and polished the stone set in the hilt of his sword resting at his hip.

"Aah, the disgusting power-hungry whores again to bleed me dry, much like my seven ex-wives," He breathed exasperatedly. A strong, squared and incredibly masculine jaw rotated as he got used to his new body, large, calloused hands massaged his temples. I studied his physiognomy, noting the strong, pointed and slightly hooked nose, the heavy brow that seemed permanently furrowed, thick black eyebrows and the slowly growing moustache running down and stopping just past the corners of his mouth. His face seemed permanently displeased, that face was familiar but I couldn't place it.

He picked at the lapels of his black, centuries-old clothes, the lace cuffs of his shirt revealing them to be at least four hundred years old. A strange medallion hung around his neck, several different dark coloured stones were set around the edge and gold and ruby rings lined his fingers.

"Now, I threw those power-hungry whores into the deepest pits in hell, how shall I dispose of you- after I've served you wel-" Molly edged towards the circle, ready to kill the remaining witches, her hand at her sword. The demon sniffed the air and looked at me, "A new one? Surely you don't want me to bless someone who is already a dozen times more powerful than you, Emm-" He stopped again and turned his eyes to Molly, sniffing again, his eyes turned molten gold and he sliced across Molly's chest without a moment's hesitation.

A/N: Well...shall we see what happens next? Dun dun duuuuun! I didn't think I would write so quickly...I hope you enjoyed it.

It's late but I still want to type up the rest...by the way, how's the polon shirtless alucard coming along? C'mon...I reeeeeeally want to write in a shirtless scene, but I shan't do it without your say-so...mostly.

Niiiiight! Until next time.

Can any say: Marie's cool as a mule? No? Okay how about: marie rocks...or is that too old fashioned. Ok, ok, let's just say: marie's Betaing is the best darned betaing since slived betaing! XD yep, that works, it's weird AND original! :D

Has anyone heard of the Jaz Parks novels? Once bitten, twice shy? Bite the dust? No...okay, well I highly recommend you do. Fast paced AND hard to put down. I read it all in ONE day, not even that! :D I was so proud but freaked at the same time...I'm turning into a book-junkie...meh, I LOVE IT! And blood-sucker's fuelling my fire, darn you! And you probably won't talk to me now either...¬¬ I did apologise and I tried to be a good person but nooooo...¬¬ book-junkie!

Ahem.

But I digress. I am soooo sorry this took so bloomin' long to update, it was cruel and mean of me, especially as I've already written up to 23 and part of 24...:O:O but you aren't supposed to know that...I'm checking them at the moment. I've recently ordered a LOT of hellsing stuff...accidentally got 2 copies of hellsing 7...¬¬ and, what's worse, 7 appeared before 4, 5,6...:O:O soooo peeved...but getting over it! have you noticed how much I use elipsis? (is that the right term for it?) Also...I'm sorry I didn't wait for you to beta chapter 21 marie..I just really want to get the enxt few chapters "out of the way" i.e off my mind, cos...writing up is not as fun as it sounds,the writing bit though- that's great :D so I am moving swiftly on.

And you'll also notice how messed up my timeline is...This is set after millennium, but Mister Bernadette is still alive (because he's fun and i didn't realise he died) and I also didn't realise he's not COMPLETELY human, apparently he's a werewolf- I have yet to find that out- :D another thing, in the manga i swear it's bernadotte, as it is on the anime, but in the anime subtitles it's bernadOTTE...hmm...

anyway, it's late! MUST DASH!!

signed:

Queen of the Short

&

Almighty Fish Squasher

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Recently dubbed: Cliffhanger creater

or otherwise known as: Beth, the short one with short hair XD