The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter Thirty-seven: The Death of Bree Tanner Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Hellsing or anything else. This will be the first chapter ever from a first person pov; multiple pov's at that. It is inspired by the book The Short Second life of Bree Tanner, which is an excellent book, better than Twilight in fact. Simon Ferenczy is an original character of mine

Excerpt from the diary of Arthur Hellsing

I remember as a boy that I had romantic notions of ridding the world of vampires once and for all. I believed, as many young boys are inclined to do, that I had some special quality which would allow me to save the world.

I used to run about the halls of the mansion, pretending that I was going after the last vampire, in the last tomb and staking him for good and then winning the beautiful princess.

Now, in the winter of my life I fully understand now that the vampire problem is not one that is likely to be solved.

Fight with your life against the vampires; but do not expect recognition, praise or success. Once you go to fight vampires, you are automatically doomed to fail from the onset. Like a degenerate gambler, the best vampire hunters play to lose, not to win.

Consider the analogy of a rat infestation. Traps and poison are only stop gap measures and at best only remove a few specimens. The only real way to purge a rat infestation is to eliminate their food source.

Only when the last human has gone the way of the dinosaur will the age of vampires come to an end.

Seattle, unknown warehouse, Industrial District

We lived in darkness and we died in darkness. As far as I was concerned, there wasn't much difference between my second life and my first life.

I was a vampire, but I didn't want to think of myself as undead. I'm not dead. I can still move, I can still talk; I am still me.

There are about thirty of us in the warehouse although the number changes daily.

We're not in control of ourselves. Little things set us off; loud noises or bright lights or sudden movements make us go crazy.

Every one of us carries lighters and lighter fluid on us; even me. In three months of being a vampire, watching us rip each other apart and burn the pieces has become old. At first it scared me that we—I—could kill so easily but now it's just a fact of life.

As a human I never thought I'd end up eating out of garbage cans and dumpsters after running from home; but I did.

And I have killed other vampires here under Riley's "care." It was them or me. It doesn't matter whether I like it or not. I can't control my actions; I'm just like the rest of them.

We are the outcasts of life; we're just the garbage. That's why Riley chose us. There was nothing to hold us back. We're all runaways, gang members, drug addicts and whores.

For the last three months we've done nothing but eat and train. There are no coffins here, we never sleep. I don't care about sleep; as a human I stayed up all night texting with friends and falling asleep during class . . . at least before mom left us and dad started hitting us.

What I really miss is dreaming. Dreaming is the only thing that makes sleep worthwhile.

On the other hand, I'm glad I don't sleep because in this place somebody could easily kill me in it.

"Look lively, you cunts!" that's the voice of Riley. He's our handler. He's the one who turned us and he watches out for us in a fashion. He likes to swear because he thinks that it makes him look tough.

All of us stop what we're doing and look at Riley, but only for a second. It's hard for us to think straight, me included. I can hear Riley talk, my ears can hear every word but my brain is having a hard time keeping up with translating his words.

"—isten closely because I'm only going to say this once!"

A few of us twitch and fewer of us listen.

The reason we haven't killed Riley now is because we'd all be lost without him. Unlike us, Riley had a clear head and full control of his mental faculties. He's the one who showed us how to feed, who to feed on and how to hide the evidence.

He's also the one who told us that sunlight would kill us and we believe him. After all, we've seen the ashes of vampires who walked into the sun.

Riley began talking much more than was necessary. He started to ramble on about how we were finally ready to begin the attack.

Ready to begin? We weren't ready for anything. We were just animals doing whatever Riley told us to do.

Apparently, the whole reason we were turned was because the woman, because there was a woman behind this; had a problem with a group of vampires living up on the Olympic peninsula. They were supposed to be old vampires—weak vampires. She wanted their hunting grounds.

We were brought up to detest weakness. In a place like this, the weak didn't last long and the strong only lasted a little bit longer. It was all one big charnel house but as awful as it was, I really had no place else to turn and the outside world frightened me almost more than death.

As I squatted there, pretending to listen to Riley, I caught sight of Diego. He was a Hispanic boy and very handsome with his dark curls and dimples. Once he tore off my arm. I'm not mad about it though, because I'm sure I tore off plenty of arms during fits of rage.

Just about everybody here has lost an arm or a leg at some point. One girl even lost her hair; but like Interview with the Vampire, it just grew back.

I don't really remember much from my human life. Most of what I remember are all bad, terrible memories. The movie with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise is one of the few good memories I still have.

The way I see it, Louise and Lestat had it easy compared to me. They lived in a beautiful house on a plantation and Louise eventually got to see the world.

For me, my world consists of this dingy warehouse and the filthy back alleys of Seattle filled with scum and human trash. There isn't any beauty in my life.

I come back to reality and listen to what Riley is saying again.

"There are only seven of those fuckers and thirty of us! We'll crush them like a fucking ant!"

Riley is trying to be inspirational but he's just getting us riled up; which is never good thing.

One of the vampires who actually seemed to be enthralled by Riley's speech is Raul. Like Diego, Raul is a former gang member who has killed people. There is a world of difference between them though.

Diego killed people; he'd been in a gang long enough to do it. He was caught killing somebody and was going to get life in prison for it when Riley found him and "rescued" him. All that Diego did was trade one prison for another.

Raul is different though. He's the sort of guy who likes cutting people up. From word around the grapevine, he was never high up on the gang hierarchy; just a loose cannon who could be counted on to do a hit.

Once I watched Raul play with his food. He found that woman and drained her, just like we usually do. Then he began to use his teeth and fingers to mutilate the body, especially the woman's private parts.

I'm a bit afraid of Raul, but if he tries anything I'll kill the little toad.

Diego.

My thoughts wander back to him. He is rather cute. Sometimes his eyes are almost kind . . . almost. At least they're never cruel.

Diego notices me looking at him and he smiles a bit. I smile back a bit. Since I've become a vampire; it's like being drunk. I can barely keep my head straight without superhuman effort. But Diego makes me feel good.

He's the only one who ever smiles at me and I'm the only one who smiles at him.

When vampires smile, they never show teeth. Showing teeth means showing aggression, even if you're smiling while you do it.

Riley is talking about how we're going to own this town once those vampires are dead. He mentions that they've got a human pet with them or something.

Weird; how do they resist the smell of her blood? Around here, we can barely resist the blood of crack addicts whose blood is more drugs than blood.

The human pet or whatever she is must be like Renfield from Dracula.

Riley makes it clear to us that whoever kills the human will be greatly rewarded.

Why?

What's so special about one little human? I've killed so many humans in the last three months that their faces are starting to blend together into one and they all look the same. Really, they're just food; I used to eat hamburgers, fundamentally there's no difference.

When we hunt, we lose all sense of ourselves. We think only with the hind brain; the primitive part of the brain. And a corpse doesn't shake me much; it's already dead. By the time I realize what I've done, the human I ate doesn't feel any more pain. So really there is no point in crying over it.

Suddenly, somebody bumps into somebody else and in no time all hell breaks loose.

We all start fighting like siblings and I don't care who I'm biting. I grapple with somebody else and they bite my shoulder; I don't see their face as I bite their shoulder back.

Everyone is kicking and punching and biting; it's lucky we haven't brought down the building by now. Maybe it's because we're focusing on killing each other that this shitty warehouse is still standing.

Riley hollered to try and get us to behave but it's hopeless.

Riley has a few advantages over us. He's smarter and more experienced. Also, because he's older than us, he doesn't burn as easily. He lost an arm once and somebody tried to burn it with lighter fluid but it didn't do anything.

But realistically, there was nothing he could do to stop us.

Riley was only a pawn in this scheme. That mysterious woman who made him, she was the brains.

BOOM!

The guy who was coming now—

BOOM!

—He was the muscle behind this operation.

His footsteps were as loud as cannon fire.

BOOM!

When he wanted to be, he was like a ghost; he could go anywhere and you'd never see or hear him until it was too late.

The "man" who came in to restore order had no name. He never spoke, never grunted or whispered; he was silent as a tomb.

Nobody knew his name, not even Riley. So we just called him The Big Man. When The Big Man looked at you, you stopped what you were doing.

As he walked over to us, we were hit by his smell. The stunk; he smelled like a rotting corpse, bad food and blood poisoning.

He never made a sound because he never needed to. He was so powerful that he didn't need to posture and toot his horn like Riley did.

He had more than enough strength to take any one of us, and we could easily throw cars like Styrofoam cups and crush steel.

The Big Man towered over us; his olive green military coat wrapped around him like a cape, but instead of billowing it just stayed wrapped around him. The effect was that it made him look more sinister and closed off.

He looked almost handsome with his Germanic features and messy blonde hair. Even though his coat had no insignia on it, I could imagine that he was a soldier or something.

We were vampires; killers to the last. We ate humans like peanuts and felt no guilt for it, but looking into the eyes of The Big Man just wasn't done.

Looking into those bright blue eyes made you feel small; crushed your ego.

He earned his title too. He must have been close to eight feet, maybe ever taller. He had a chest as wide as two linebackers, legs like sequoia trees and arms that looked like they could pick up a battleship without ever breaking a sweat.

He gave us one look and we powerful newborn vampires began to shrink back like bad children. We were the dogs, he was the senior kennel master; Riley was just the guy who fed the hounds.

The Big Man was nothing if not predictable. When there was a fight, it was always the same. He would appear and then he'd make an example of one of us. Today that just happened to be me.

I know he didn't pick me for any specific reason, but that didn't make it any easier when he reached down and grabbed me by the throat and raised me into the air.

I kicked, fought and bit but against The Big Man I might as well have been a small child. I tried to console myself by saying that this would only hurt for a second, but I couldn't think rationally. All I could think about was his stench in my nostrils and those laser beam blue eyes bearing down on me.

I tried to tell myself that having my skull smashed in like a pumpkin wouldn't be so bad; I failed miserably.

What happened next took me completely by surprise.

WHAM!

I wasn't sure what was going on. I thought at first The Big Man had crushed my skull, but he simply let me fall to the floor and I landed like a cat.

Diego, the vamp I smiled at was standing next to The Big Man with his fist extended in the punch position.

The Big Man's hat had fallen off of his head and there was a red mark on his cheek shaped like a fist mark.

The Big Man had been knocked off balance. Diego had hit the big man. I looked on in horror; you never, ever, ever hit The Big Man. You even think about hitting him and you'd better pull your head out of your ass and apologize.

We all looked with shock. Even Diego looked shocked at what he'd done. A part of me wanted to jump in and help him; a bigger part of me—the dominant part of me—was frozen in fear.

The Big Man never spoke, but he said volumes. With a wave of his hand and a look of his eyes, he could herd us like cattle. He never got involved much; Riley took care of the day to day particulars of our lives.

Now, The Big Man was pissed off and you could tell. His hair was standing up from where his hat fell. The muscles in his neck were standing up and his head was turned at a slight angle.

Just like that, he was on Diego like shit on Velcro.

Faster than I could register, he drove his fist right through Diego's chest. The sound was horrible, a cross between metal being crushed at a junkyard press and rocks being crushed.

Punching his other fist through Diego's stomach, The Big Man pulled in opposite directions and tore Diego apart.

I must have been a coward because I just sat there like a scared rabbit. There was nothing I personally could do against The Big Man.

Then, he threw the two halves of Diego on top of each other like a sandwich and started to pummel them into oblivion. Back and forth his fists went, going again nearly too fast for me to see. And that's saying something because I can see a bullet in midair as clearly as a slow tennis ball.

His fists came down with such force that the whole building was shaking. Dry rotted drywall and plaster was coming down and outside we could hear car alarms going off.

When he was done, The Big Man dusted Diego-dust off of his coat and picked up his hat. Then he walked away and left Riley to clean up the mess; his work here was finished.

Before us, Diego had been pounded into an unidentifiable mass of paste. I knew vampire would come back from some pretty harsh injuries, but in this helpless state more than a few malicious vampires would try to burn him.

I didn't save him from The Big Man but I could at least save him from his fellow vampires.

First I was going to need to take Diego to a safe place.

At that moment, Raul was getting closer and closer to Diego with a box of matches and a pig-in-shit grin. He and Diego had hated each other from the moment they met.

Jumping forward, I roared at Raul and bared my teeth.

He roared back, but so soon after The Big Man, nobody was eager for another fight so he backed off. The cockroach left to hunt but he'd be back.

It didn't take me long before I discovered one of Raul's little treasure troves. A big black garbage bag full of decaying human body parts. Turning out the bag, a few severed hands and an eyeball fell out; I don't think any other vampire really bothered to take trophies from his victims.

There was also a bloody t-shirt and shorts in the bag. They stunk but hopefully they'd fit Diego; his own clothes had been destroyed in the beating he took.

Feeling kind of icky, I scooped up the Diego-paste with my hands and began to shovel it into the plastic bag.

I got a little way from the warehouse just in time for the plastic bag to tear wide open and for the contents of Diego to splash all over the street.

Still feeling disgusted, I began to scoop up pieces of mush and lick it. In the short three months of my second life, I've found that when you bit another vampire it leaves a scar but if you just lick another vampire's wound, the healing is quicker.

So that's what I did. I scooped up the congealing pieces of Diego and began to lick them. It was hard work and gross on so many levels I couldn't count; but it was the least I could do. Diego had stood up to The Big Man. This was the least I could do to repay him.

As I licked the pieces, it slowly sped up the rate of Diego's healing. Soon the mush started to form pieces of body; first it was just bits of bone and chunks of muscle.

Soon I started to be able to make out random finger and toe tips and the beginnings of organs.

This didn't make it any less disgusting knowing that I was licking Diego's toes and unbeating heart. At one point I just grabbed something from the wreckage and started to lick it.

I'll give you a clue what part of his anatomy it was. It was long, hard and it starts with "p" and ends in "—enis."

I screamed like a little girl and dropped Diego's dick. I'm a girl with healthy non-lesbian appetites; but honestly I hadn't thought about getting laid since my dad started beating me and making my life a living hell.

Despite everything, I began to lick the non-nasty parts of Diego. A man's body is less appealing when it's chopped up like fish bait.

Soon, he was healed enough that he could start putting himself together. In less than half an hour he'd gone from shapeless paste to a well formed and handsome vampire boy with cute dimples and hot body.

Diego Pov

I'd once been part of a gang. As a vampire, my human memories were dim and fuzzy. I vaguely knew that I'd come from a broken home and that I'd stolen, done drugs, drank and killed somebody and gotten caught.

Surprisingly enough, my clearest human memory was of visiting the new place at the mall's food court. Even now, I can still describe the burrito I had.

It had onions in it.

God, I fucking love onions. Even now, the smell of onions is like a bouquet of flowers to me.

There are no onions in my life now; just blood, more blood and the painful knowledge that that assswipe Raul is still breathing. Well, alive after a fashion.

The last thing I remember was The Big Man's fist colliding with my face; after than everything was a blur until I get a look at a beautiful face.

Bree I think her name is. Her face is looking over me with concern, it looks like. Huh, it's been a long time since anybody's been concerned about me other than myself.

"Onions," I said to her.

"What?" I'd confused her.

Come on, give me a fucking break. Part of my brain is still knitting and since becoming a vampire my mind has been as clear as a drunken wino after drinking a twenty four pack of beer and eating shoe polish to get high.

"Nothing," I quickly reply. I spent the awkward silence by putting on the clothes she'd brought me; they smelled like ass but it was better than going around in my birthday suit.

I know that this girl probably saved my life by taking me away from the other vampires. It's not only Raul that would want to kill me. Some of those vampires that Riley turned are sick fucks who have a mind for killing and raping.

Others are like Bree here; just people that nobody would care about. I see the same thing in gangs; you don't get picked because you're special or smart. You survive because you're strong and you get inside the gang because they can use you and you're weak minded.

Suddenly, I noticed something. Bree was sparkling.

"You're sparkling," I said.

Bree just looked at me like I was crazy. "Get the fuck out." She didn't believe me.

"I'm not joking," I defended. "Look!"

The first rays of sun were coming up. We newborn vampires aren't particularly observant; we've got the attention span of five year olds on sugar high.

The first rays of sun were coming in and they just barely hit Bree. It was barely noticeable, even to our eyes; but a small bit of sun hit Bree and it made her sparkle. She wasn't in pain or dying; just sparkling.

I held my own hand into the sunlight. It also faintly sparkled. I'd never admit it aloud but I thought my sparkling skin looked pretty.

Don't get any funny ideas about me. If I sparkled you'd never see me in the sunlight. But between sparkling in the sun and bursting agonizingly into flames and dying; sparkling doesn't seem like that bad an option. I'd rather not sparkle at all but I'm glad to know that sunlight doesn't kill.

In no time at all Bree and I are sparkling like Disco balls and we're just watching the rainbows come off of us like dazed kids. Actually, when we throw off rainbows, we look like waterfalls; waterfalls are manlier than Disco balls. I like that better.

We can't go back to the warehouse for two reasons; first we'd be seen. I don't like Riley but he's drilled the "keep the secret" rule into us too well. The second reason is that if Riley lied about sunlight, he might kill us to keep the secret.

Frankly, I'm not worried about Riley that much. He's just a poser; he's just a pussy whipped pawn.

The lady in charge, the mysterious one who made Riley and calls the shots for The Big Man; she's the one to worry about. The Big Man is powerful but he's just the hired muscle, a mercenary; he doesn't give a shit what happens as long as he gets paid.

Although what she's offering him, I haven't got a fucking clue.

In no time, Bree and I are hiding in a storm drain. It stinks something fierce but it doesn't burn my nose like The Big Man does. God, he smells worse than shit.

It's going to be hours before we can get back, so we do what most girls and boys do; we star awkwardly at each other and wonder why it's never as easy as in the movies.

"What's your name?" I ask her. I've heard her name thrown around but it just seems polite to ask.

"Bree," she replied. She doesn't say anything more. I see that I'm going to have to do more of the work here.

"I'm Diego."

"I know," she said.

I find myself losing hope of getting her to open up to me. I need to try a different approach; otherwise I might spend the whole day just back and forth with Bree.

I went out on a limb. "Do you like comic books?" it was a longshot but it was all I could think of with my muddled newborn brain. Just talking instead of snarling was a challenge.

"Yeah," Bree said enthusiastically. "I love comics; what about you."

"They're okay," I admit. Actually, I like comics just fine, especially Ghost Rider; but frankly, I'm more interested in the girl who likes comics.

"Okay," Bree talks with mock outrage. "They're better than okay; comic books have made our world what it is."

"Come on," I said to her. "Comic books are just fine but none of that is real."

"So what?" Bree said to me. "Vampires aren't real either and they don't sparkle but we're still both here."

She smiled a little sheepishly and then confessed. "You know, I'm actually glad that we sparkle."

This made me laugh; I haven't laughed in a long time. "That's easy for you to say; you're a girl."

She pouted a bit; it was cute. It wasn't a bitchy pout, just one of those cute little pouts that you see people's girlfriends do when their boyfriends get forced on a shopping trip. I've never actually had a girlfriend so seeing her act like this puts me a little bit at ease. Maybe I can score some tail before I die.

"What's that supposed to mean, Diego?"

I love the way she says my name, all sarcastic like. It makes me feel important and I sort of want to return the feeling.

"What I mean is that I'm a guy who likes girls. It's cultural; the only guys who like sparkles are guys enjoy other men's asses."

Bree still stood by her position. "That's not true, tons of musicians including Elvis Presley wore sparkles and they got more pussy than an old cat lady."

The ice was broke between us and we could talk a bit more freely.

"Who's your favourite superhero," Bree asked.

I knew the answer without even thinking about it. This one memory stood out easily among my fading human memories. "Ghost Rider all the way," I smiled with satisfaction. I wanted to grin but our control was tenuous; showing teeth could make Bree turn from friendly to lethal in a split second. "Nothing is cooler than a flaming skull and a piece of badass chain."

"I like Spiderman," Bree played a bit with her hair.

I laughed. "Spiderman; how could you like that homo?"

"Hey! Spiderman is awesome; he could kick ghost rider's ass any day."

I can't believe this girl. "There's no way in hell that fruitcake could take Ghost Rider on his worst day."

"Oh yes he can. With gas prices these days Ghost Rider is taking the bus."

Damn, that was a low blow. Hot chick I'd like to bang or not, I've got to stand up for my principles. "Spiderman lives in his mom's basement; he's got loser written all over him."

"Nuh-uh," Bree stuck her tongue out at me. I'm not going to lie; it looked pretty hot when she did that.

"Spiderman has the spider senses; he can sense danger before it happens and give Ghost Rider a flat tire."

We talked like that for pretty much the rest of the day. We argued about comic books, talked about our former lives and I tried to stare down her shirt whenever I thought she wasn't noticing.

I know it's not the most gentlemanly thing to do but staring at her ta-tas made me feel normal. I used to take every chance I could as a human staring at women's tits. Don't look at me that way; it wasn't the worst thing I've ever done.

The other day, I saw this woman with the greatest pair of hooters you've ever seen; all natural.

I pounced on her, tore open her throat and drank all her blood. When I was done, it looked like somebody had sliced her throat open with a chainsaw; two neat little holes is a myth.

I'm a killer, a gang banger and I think about sex all the time. I used to smoke tons of pot, I'd drink and do coke when I could afford it.

Being around Bree and talking about fun stuff like this really made me feel better. I suddenly felt lighter when I was talking with her; it was a feeling that I'd never felt before as either a vampire or a human.

It wasn't happily that we eventually left the sewer and got back to the warehouse

As we walked back, I said to Bree. "Do you want to escape?"

She looked at me stunned. "Escape?"

"Yeah," I whispered as we walked back to base. "We're the only ones who know that sun isn't deadly. Tomorrow we can leave together and never look back."

Bree thought about it, but for me the answer was obvious. My human life had been a prison of poverty and a broken home. I was just one of seven children by a rotten no good whore of a mom.

As a vampire though, I had an opportunity. I could live forever with Bree at my side; even if she and I didn't work out I could have any girl I wanted.

"Sure," she said. "But can we take somebody else with us."

I instantly got mad. Was there another man she was seeing? I knew she liked to hang around Freaky Fred but I never knew.

I nearly lost control except she looked at me with this doe eyed expression and bared her neck to me; that put the collar on the beast inside me. Something about her submissive posture like that made me want to be less aggressive. That and she pushed out her chest to show off her hooters; a man who's laid often is a man who's peaceful, happy and unlikely to fight.

I was putty in her hands and it both thrilled and scared me.

Bree Tanner and me were going to escape; one way or another.

Third Person POV

In the roof above the warehouse, the security cameras were working when nothing else was. Fifty years ago this factory had been abandoned. Located in an industrial district of Seattle, it was the perfect base for Victoria and her army.

In her chair, Victoria sat like a red haired big cat, confident and assured. In the name of her vendetta, no number of lives lost was too great a sacrifice. Behind her, her flame red hair flowed to her waist like a cape.

As it caught the ugly light of a single flickering florescent light, Victoria's hair threw off stunning and mind boggling patterns like fine veins of gem sparkling in a rock wall.

Sching—came a sound from behind Victoria's chair.

Sching

In the room with Victoria, a man was taking a Katana; putting it into a sheath and then rapidly drawing out over and over again. Evidently the "man" fancied himself a modern day samurai.

He wore a nice, bluish suit and bowler hat; but Simon Ferenczy was no man in the conventional sense. From the flaring nostrils on his bat like snout to his pointed teeth and large pores; he looked like something crawled out of a hole in the mud.

The British wamphyri happily played with the katana, only recently having discovered the pleasure of bisecting his prey before eating it.

Without warning, the omnipresent cat-boy Schrodinger materialized from the ether. "Frau Victoria," he happily called, "the boy und girl Unstet have returned."

Victoria smiled warmly at Schrodinger. "Thank you, kätzchen," before scooping him up and putting him in her lap.

"I could have told you that," came Simon Ferenczy's ever changing British accent in between strokes of the sword.

Sching

"I can read their minds as easily as a children's book."

Sching

Simon smiled a most unpleasant smile. "I can tell that the fit bird has plans of escape."

As Simon swung his sword out again, this time he lunged and thrust the blade towards Schrodinger's neck. The violent vampire loved to torment Schrodinger; the cat boy's cuteness actually made him horny and violent in one abysmal package.

There was a shower of sparks as something deflected Simon's sword from cutting off Schrodinger's head.

Victoria had used her hand to block the razor sharp steel. She was oddly protective of Schrodinger and it infuriated Simon to no end.

Victoria held up a finger and gently scolded Simon. "Don't touch the kitty, Simon."

He growled but said nothing, merely sheathing his sword for the time being; he was no longer in the mood to play samurai.

In the corner of the room stood the Captain. The massive, stoic werewolf made no notice of Victoria, Simon or Schrodinger. He did his work and that was as far as it went in these parts.

Attempting to use food to take his mind off of his anger, Simon went over to a fairly intact mini-fridge and began to put together a sandwich.

From his safe place in Victoria's lap, Schrodinger yelled to Simon. "Sie mussen eine Stulle den Hauptsturmführer machen."

Simon wished that he didn't speak German, because then he wouldn't have to make the Captain a sandwich.

"If the big Jerry wants a sandwich, let him make it for himself."

Simon was just about to slice the salami when he noticed the Captain looming over him and looking rather menacing.

Simon may have been evil as hell but he wasn't suicidal. He would make the captain a sandwich.

Victoria watched the newborns on the gritty black and white monitors. Riley ran among them like an underpaid elementary school teacher.

As Simon handed the Captain the greasy and possibly mouldy sandwich, he too looked at the monitor. The sight of Riley made him want to laugh.

As if picking up on his thought, Victoria tilted her head a bit towards Simon. "Can you tell what he's thinking?"

Simon's throaty reply came. "The ponce thinks of nothing but making you happy." Simon peeled apart his thick lips and ran a forked tongue over them that left a trail of snail like slime. "Even when you made him watch us fuck, he only blamed himself."

Victoria gave a sideways smirk. It really amazed her how far Riley would go her far; as far as she had once gone for James.

James and Victoria never really had a relationship which could have been called healthy. As far as James had been concerned, Victoria had never been more than an easy lay and a compliant mind. Victoria though the exact same of Riley.

A while back, he'd lost a whole batch of potential newborns when he drank too deeply and killed the potential recruits. As punishment, she'd performed coitus with the grotesque wamphyri.

Victoria spoke fondly. "Riley learned his lesson."

As far as lovers went, Riley was only mediocre.

Simon wasn't much better, but he could keep it hard literally for weeks on end. Victoria enjoyed how he clawed, bit and thrusted in a way that would leave most women bleeding and torn in delicate places. Luckily, her stone vagina had nothing to fear from Simon's demon dick.

Simon was disgusting and depraved, but Victoria actually found that she enjoyed being able to command such an obviously amoral creature.

Her deal with the Nazis was a simple one. They gave her information about the Cullen's abilities, numbers and tactics and in return she would hand over any talented vampires the way of Millennium.

Dok wanted samples for his vampire research; the Dutchman Joham wanted the same thing. However it was Joham who was the most interested in the Cullens.

For the Dutch Unstet, seeing the Cullens in action would give him data for his grand experiment; the ultimate goal of this was to see Alucard surpassed. Much as a scientist must understand a microorganism before going up to multicellular life, Joham endeavoured to understand the lesser vampires before understanding the great ones.

It was a working relationship and Victoria found that she enjoyed working for them. Having been made a vampire by the serial killing Askoldov brothers; the sadist East European Jewish vampires had left Victoria's mind a fertile field for the seed of anti-Semitism.

Setting down Schrodinger on the floor like a regular housecat, Victoria turned to the Captain, who was just finishing his sandwich.

"Kill the one Diego; leave the girl." She issued with a voice of steel. Imperceptibly, the Captain gave Victoria the slightest of nods.

She continued. "We strike out tomorrow; we'll take Diego from the group and kill him."

Again, the Captain nodded slightly.

Simon Ferenczy looked on with jealousy of the woman who used him for his body. Never once had the Captain done his bidding, even though he'd served Millennium as a professional thief for ages and ages.

Turning away from both the Captain and Simon, Victoria threw Schrodinger a little cloth mouse and looked again at the milling newborns on the security monitor.

The figures fought, bickered and almost acted like people at times. None of them had a clue that by tomorrow they'd all be killed.

Tomorrow, the short second life and the shorter second lives of many others would come to an end.

That's all folks! Next time there will be actual fighting and killing. This chapter is another two parter and I'm sorry for those who wanted a straight fight. I just wrote this thing and it grew too big. It just went away with me.

Personally, Bree and Diego are way more fun to work with than Bella and Edward because Bree and Diego are the tragic couple. They were the ones who were shot down despite their best efforts; theirs is a tale that needs to be told. It will not end happily.

I'd like to thank all my reviewers and advise you to read Flower of War by Shallowswan if you love Hellsing and Deathnote. She'll have you entertained for hours.

Or if you like pure Deathnote, just read Law of Detachment by Blacksand1; another worthy read.

Ta

Master of the Boot