Author's Note: Sorry it's taking me sooo long to write chapters...I just have a busy life. Haha not really but there's summer work to do now. Fantastic. And a spider attacked me while I was putting this chapter up so I'm scared for my life (I don't know where it went). So hopefully you all like where it's going...can't please everyone, though. Sorry :(.
I was motionless, watching the insides of my eyelids. I was trying to recount what had just happened-- the last I remembered was seeing the scarlet-draped corpse of Pip. Everything else seemed blurry to me.
I knew Alucard was there-- he took the sword out of the captain's skull. Millennium entered the room while Alucard was trying to console me, I believe, and then the two of us had to fight off another pack of ghouls. What happened next was the part I now struggled to recollect.
My eyes were still closed-- I needed to rest them. For some reason, I felt feeble and empty. The left side of my body felt warm and somewhat soggy. Vague noises reverberated around me-- unfamiliar voices arguing, sirens sounding, shuffling plastic and clanking metal.
My hearing grew sharper until I specifically heard the sound of a zipper being unzipped. I groggily opened my eyes and was immediately dizzied by morning light streaming through a hazy doorway. I saw the outline of two men carrying a body bag in my direction.
Attempting to sit up, I felt a sting in the upper region of my left arm and also in my chest. It must've been too great a pain for me to fully feel it due to shock. I hadn't even gotten my shoulders off the ground before the feeling defeated me fully, and I loosened myself again, trying to keep my eyes open. I tried to speak, only hearing a faint squeak in the back of my throat. The blur of people before me froze and dropped the bag, frantically gaining the attention of others. Without delay, a flock of identical obscurities encircled me.
A much larger shape than the others knelt down beside me and I turned my head toward them, pain mercilessly flooding my brain. I winced and my larynx produced another pathetic sound.
"Don't move," the shadow ordered concernedly, jolting at my signal of great discomfort. "You'll be alright, we've got you."
Disobeying his direction, once I was allowed moving space, I slowly rotated my head to look at the arm that had smarted recently. My eyes were still cloudy, so I wasn't quite sure that what I saw was really true. My arm seemed to be gone and the chest of my shirt seemed strangely distorted. My clothing was almost entirely soaked and stained red.
Not completely taking the matter seriously in my stupor, I tried to move my left hand. I felt a blankness where it should've been. I slightly craned my neck and squinted to scrutinize it further, and saw that, indeed, there was no arm. To add to that, a gaping hole replaced my undead heart.
The reality attacked me like a swarm of infuriated bees and I sat up straight, head pounding and body aching. A herd of figures crowded around me again, trying to calm me and lay me back down. Any pain I felt was substituted with rage. Pushing them all away easily with my still-attached right arm, I flung myself into a standing position and felt my eyes burning again. Tears were forming but I was far too angry to let myself cry, and it certainly as hell wouldn't help anything. From all angles, now-clear forms of policemen advanced on me, but I dashed out the door, dodging their leaps and bounds to halt my escape, leaving them to yell after me.
Abandoned on a metal stretcher lay my sword and a bloody-looking object encased in plastic and ice. I assumed it was my arm, and in a livid rush, I sheathed my sword, grabbed the appendage, and ran.
The events that I misplaced from my memory had suddenly been rediscovered, and I swore revenge on that very moment.
The pangs and spasms I felt deep within my chest and in the back of my mind continued to trouble me even after I entered the Hellsing estate and sauntered into Integra's office.
Trying rigorously to hide the strange sensations, I smirked my most mischievous smirk when she looked up at me from her desk. She raised an eyebrow and I sat down smoothly in front of her.
"What did you do?" Integra asked suspiciously.
"I killed her," I replied, holding my sneer.
"Who is 'her?'" she questioned, looking intensely curious and somewhat furious at the same time.
"You know."
"…No…you didn't."
"I'm very sure that I did."
"Alucard," Integra began in a scolding tone. "I never ordered you to kill her-- I thought you--" She sighed heavily at this point. "She was a very important part of this organization. She never did anything to hurt you or anyone else here. Why did you do it?"
"For fun," I grinned, leaning back in my chair.
Integra didn't speak. She glowered at me and I saw her interlaced fingers clench tightly. She loosened her hands moments later and inhaled deeply.
"If you really think that it was necessary, then I find no need to argue," she said, trying to steady her tensed voice.
"It was necessary," I replied, sitting up straight again. "She was holding me back, and I needed to be like my old self again. You remember, don't you? I was a killing machine with a one-track mind and that's just what I wanted to be. It was fun. She made me soft and took away my immoralnature. Now that she's gone, I have the freedom to do as I please."
Integra turned all of her attention to the papers before her, and I knew that the conversation was over. Without another word, I stood and walked triumphantly to my chamber.
I chained back any thoughts of Zinautha or the feelings I acquired upon becoming so close to her. I concentrated only on the murky hallways before me. The liberty I experienced was overwhelming and caused me to grin uncontrollably throughout the duration of the dawdling trek to my quarters. My gait was rather bouncy in my opinion, and the elation caused a snigger or two to disrupt the lovely silence.
Nearly gliding down the last set of stairs into my dungeon, my mind was simply enveloped in vacant bliss. I skidded for a split second and then made the perfect transition from a mad-dash into a leisurely walk as I reached the stone floor of my room.
I plopped down into my chair and relaxed myself. Void of worries, I closed my eyes and let the joy suffuse my person. My hands grasped the ends of the armrests on their own accord and I slid down the back of the chair until I was comfortable.
It was pure perfection-- nothing to bother me or place any sort of worry in my path. My eyes permitted themselves to close and the muted room caved in on me like a silent lullaby. Thoughts struggled to shout for my attention but I fought to suppress them and let myself slip off to sleep.
I was surprised yet relieved that none of the police force tried to take me back with them. The city streets were nearly empty. Those who woke early for walks were unfortunate enough to see me at my worst and were probably too afraid to ask if I needed help. I mean, who likes to see someone drenched in blood and minus a limb that early in the morning?
Speaking of morning-- I glanced down and to my left side. I stopped dead in my tracks and sighed exasperatedly, causing a few passersby to stare (both at my appearance and outwardly irritated behavior).
My watch was always on my left wrist. And guess where my left wrist was at that moment? In a plastic bag trying not to rot too quickly, that's where it was.
I cleared my throat, looked over my surroundings, and lifted the bag eye-level. Feeling around through the layers of plastic and chunks of ice (with one hand, mind you), I managed to find my watch, rightfully strapped around my wrist, and push its face against the surface of the bag. The frost was just thin enough for me to decipher 7:24 A.M.
My wounds had stopped bleeding. After a double-take, I saw that the cavity in my torso had shrunk the slightest bit. My body was getting better at healing itself. It obviously wasn't working with the arm quite yet because it was sealed up and my body had no way of retrieving it to reattach it unless I opened the bag and extracted it. I quickly decided to wait for an opportune moment so as not to frighten fellow pedestrians any further.
As much as I wanted to get my retribution for what that vile monster did to me, I needed to take the time to heal myself. I didn't want to go after him with one arm. That would do me no good.
Scoping out the area, I spotted a relatively obscured alleyway. I was sure no one would peek down there to see what sort of eerie things were going on. I looked around me to see that no one was watching, and I snuck into the shadows, sliding down one of the grimy walls and sitting.
My eyesight naturally adapted to darkness faster than humans', so I could get to work immediately. I tore through the bag and carefully removed my disembodied arm. Making sure it was facing the right way (no one needs their arms on backwards), I pressed the tattered muscles and veins together, concentrating as hard as I could on that one area.
Nothing happened for about two minutes. By then, I could see just as clearly as I could in the light, and I saw a red glow ignite along the edges of my ragged flesh. The two pieces began to fuse together, making rather sickening squish-squash noises. I looked away and pushed my arm a little harder into place.
The nauseating sounds seemed to have ceased. Slowly, I returned my gaze to the curing arm. It jerked of its own volition and I heard the revolting click of bone on bone. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to forget the occurrence I had just undergone.
Shaking off my disgust, I focused hard on my hand, clenching and unclenching my fist. Next, I bent my elbow, slowly making sure it could go all the way. Lastly, I lifted my entire arm, moving it in circles to make sure that my mediocre healing would hold.
"Well done," I jumped at the voice of one of the last people I would want to encounter at such a moment. Alexander Anderson towered over me, eyes glowing despite the dense shade of the buildings at each of our backs.
"Thank you," I said mockingly, standing myself up with only the aid of the arm I knew could stand my weight at the time. "but I really should be going. I don't enjoy being in the company of a mortal enemy while I'm vulnerable."
"Mortal enemy?" he repeated, dashing in front of me as I commenced exiting the alley. "Come on, now. We're all friends here. I rescued you from the Millennium, didn't I?" I shrugged and grunted, pushing past him. He followed me close behind. "I want to help you."
I stopped, once again, dead in my tracks. Luckily, Anderson read my movements and stopped himself before crashing into me. I probably would've been killed.
"What do you mean, 'help me?'" I asked, turning around to look him in the eye.
"I know what happened to you," he stated plainly, causing my mouth to open absentmindedly in confusion. "It's written all over you-- you've been betrayed. No one else could muster enough strength to tear off your arm; and there's only one person whose bullets can leave wounds that large and slow-healing in a vampire-- Alucard."
My eyes stung with tears (which I fought down again) at the word "betrayed." I hadn't actually put a word to the situation. I didn't have to speak, because he had it all right. Seeing that I had calmed down and had the patience to listen to him, Anderson took my shoulder and gently led me back into the secure passage.
"I know you want retaliation for what he's done to you," the Paladin said, which was a little pointless because anyone would want payback for something like that. "There's no reason to cause such destruction to a girl as loyal and compassionate as yourself. I know that you, alone, cannot kill him, but you absolutely have to show him your best-- show him what he's put himself against. So I'm willing to assist you in reaching that goal."
I stared pensively at the garbage-covered ground. Anderson seemed very sincere. He had saved me before and never tried to kill me, so I decided that he was trustworthy.
My eyes met the Iscariots' once again, and I nodded with a half-smile. He grinned, and without another word, picked me up off of the disease-ridden tar. Careful not to extend the damage done to my chest, he held me loosely and walked steadily onto the less-contaminated sidewalks, starting off in the direction I had come from before my arm was back where it belonged.
Where we were going, I didn't care. All I knew was that I was going to get the revenge I wanted, and all with the help of my new-found ally…or could I call him a friend?
I scowled at the mounds of documents on my desk. It was only 7:00 in the morning and I already had stress lying there, leering at me.
Walter entered my office after the routine double-knock on the already opened door. Normally his presence soothed me, because I knew I had someone understanding nearby, but today he was encumbered by yet another stack of papers.
"I apologize, Sir Integra," he bowed and stepped forward, placing the pile in the last clear spot my desk offered. I nodded, understanding the significance of filling out paperwork. After a short pause, he spoke again, voice trembling slightly, "About Miss Printemps-- it's a bit difficult to take in…I…"
"I don't think she's dead," I said flatly. Walter stammered and looked at me confusedly. I kept eye contact and left my face unchanged, telling him that I was serious. Something inside of me held onto the small hope that Zinautha was miraculously alive.
My ears tingled unpleasantly at the sound of the name, "Miss Printemps." I strained my ears so that I could hear Integra and Walter converse.
"I don't think she's dead," Integra's voice came distinctly through the many floors and into my incredulous ears.
I sat in my chair, shaking my head contemptuously at my master's ridiculous beliefs. She was dead and there nothing to do about it.