The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

by Master of the Boot

Millennium was destroyed, but the conflict never ends. With their backs against the wall, Hellsing will fight a war that will reshape the world as we know it, and Forks is the new battle ground. Welcome to the Big Hellsing. Crossover with Twilight.

37. The Battle of the Newborns

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

Chapter 37: Battle of the Newborns

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or Twilight, Zohall Mercer is the property of EZB and I only own Simon Ferenczy. Also this chapter is mean to be a little experiment designed to replicate the opening sequence of the Hellsing OVA's. I hope you enjoy and let's pray that this experiment works.

---

Diego POV:

Pain. That was the first thing that I felt. There I was, an all-powerful vampire; a creature of the night and I was being thrown to the ground screaming and kicking like an unwanted baby.

It was all going great; Bree and I were going to escape. The fucking newborn vampires are as easy to herd as cats. There was no way that anyone could have caught wind of our plan, even that mysterious bitch who's supposed to be in charge of this.

Riley came into the warehouse and told us to go outside because today was the day of the assault; that mysterious, "special" day when we'd be able to walk in the fucking sunlight. Bree and I had already figured out that was a lie. All we did in sun was sparkle.

Bree and I could have gotten out. It was only supposed to have been her, me and one other. A guy named freaky Fred. We called him that because as soon as you went near him you wanted to blow chunks all over the floor. Somehow Bree became attached to that freak. He protected her somehow.

Protected, yeah right; I protected her. Fred didn't stand up to The Big Man like I did.

I was jealous of Fred. As childish as it sounds, it felt almost like he was trying to move in on my girl. Me and Bree hadn't official called each other boyfriend and girlfriend but we were all each other had in the world and to be honest, that was good enough for me.

Bree never deserved this life. She's not like me. She never did anything bad except try to run away from an asshole father.

Maybe I do love Bree, because I was going to let Fred come along with us as long as he behaved and kept his hands to himself.

Everything was perfect; the three of us were going to escape. Then everything went to shit.

The three of us were lagging behind the group ready to make a break for it as we were being lead out of the warehouse at an hour before sunrise.

Like the newborns we were, our self-control was like glass. Just the act of running made us feel free and wild, like dogs. After being cooped up in that warehouse we were all so glad to be allowed to run. And fuck, could we ever run.

I ran so fast that I wandered into the middle of the group and lost sight of both Bree and Freaky Fred.

That was when The Big Man grabbed me.

He just came out of the darkness like a phantom. He grabbed me by the throat and drove his thumb into my throat, punching a hole in it with the pressure.

Mute and thrashing like a fish out of water. He grabbed me and took me somewhere.

Another ass end of the city crack house; more of the same for me.

No matter how much I struggled, I couldn't shake off The Big Man. As I thrashed, he pulled his thumb out of my torn throat and started to rip nerves out of the side of my spine.

I dropped out of school but I remember all the little drawing of the human spine with the nerves coming out. Peri-peri-peripheral nerves; that's what they were called!

I screamed bloody murder as soon as my throat healed.

All the while, The Big Man just looked at me with that same look of blank apathy.

As he dropped me, I sprang at him. Him tearing out my nerves had made me clumsy but I still had my strength and my teeth.

Bouncing off the floor like a rubber ball, I lunged at the big man and dug my teeth into his thigh.

God, I'd never been so desperate in my first or second life. His flesh was breaking off pieces of my teeth but I wasn't about to let him off.

Like broken glass, the sharp ends of my teeth sunk into the meat of his thigh and I tore into it like a shark.

I was so focused on attacking him, clawing on him, biting him, pissing on him if I could that I didn't even feel as he grabbed my hair and pulled me off with the chunk of meat in my mouth.

I was this close to clamping down my teeth on his nuts; I should have bitten his dick off.

Again, I felt those indestructible fingers grab my neck, just under the jaw like I saw a friend handle a snake once in a past life.

I snarled, roared and spitted at him. I kicked him in the leg and groin; now that finally got his attention.

He had irritation written all over his features. Good, some down from your high horse and eat some shit with the rest of us, you mute cocksucker.

Oh I'd riled him something good.

Using some kind of fancy karate move or something, he grabbed me by the hair and flipped me into my back.

I hissed in pain as he twisted my hair as hard as he could.

I just barely made out the look of hate on his face as he raised his boot and slammed it on my chest. He kept doing that, stomping on my chest like my ribs were an Easter egg he was trying to crack.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

His foot just kept coming down fast and hard don my chest while he grabbed my hair.

Suddenly, I heard a voice call out and stop the punishment. It was a new voice, one I'd never heard before.

"Captain, 'allo; Mr. Large Jerry. Please leave something for Riley to chew on. That boy is no match for you."

It was different from all the other vampire voices I'd heard, but it wasn't exactly a human voice.

This thing, this British thing was standing in the burning light of an oil drum. The smell of him alone made me want to puke. The British thing with his posh accent and nice suit smelled like rotting garbage or a corpse in a dumpster in summer.

As his slitted eyes watched me and his bat's ears twitched, I put a hand to my nose because he fucking stunk and I didn't care if he knew it.

The Britsh thing smiled from under his bowler hat. Damn, the guy had teeth worse than a Rottweiler. The pores in his skin were the size of bullet holes and his clawed hands were holding a pair of desert Eagle handguns. He stopped to use one of the gun barrels to wipe the gunk from the corner of one twitching eye.

Jesus, the guy looked like the rape baby Winston Churchill and a giant leach.

Acting on instinct, I began to growl at both the Leech man and The Big Man. Although I was slowly backing away from The Big Man because I knew he could kick my ass and Bree needed me.

I was stepping back, The Big Man and King Leach weren't trying to follow me but I bumped into something. I roared like a starving lion and swung a fist around. The concrete crumbled under my hand like dry toast but there was nothing there.

Something bumped into me from behind and freaked the fuck out of me. I hated being sneaked up as a human and I hated it ten million times more as a vampire.

I spun around like Taz from Loony Toons and started hitting everything near me, but there was nothing there to hit. Big Man and British Leach were just standing back, watching me spin around like a dog with a dog whistle going off somewhere. British guy laughed while The Big Man just stared at me like I was a piece of shit.

I finally managed to slow the fuck down; I was so embarrassed. To these bastards I was nothing more than a dog. I hated that! I wanted to jump over there and rip their fucking faces off for laughing at me. I didn't know how strong British Leach was but I knew I couldn't take the Big Man.

Then I heard this high squeaky voice like a cartoon cat. "Guten abend, Herr Diego . . . or Senor. I don't speak any Spanish vords."

I looked up with my mouth open wide enough to catch flies. Sitting up there on a ruined fire escape was a boy—a fucking boy in a Hitler youth uniform with goddamn cat ears. If I wasn't a vampire I was sure that I'd have to be high to see that shit.

I tried to talk, to say something but all that came out of my mouth was more growling. I was a damn mute. When the Nazi kid's ears twitched like a real cat's, I growled even louder.

Then the damndest thing happened, he disappeared; vanished into thin air. I could even see the air move into the spot where he was standing.

Before I knew it, the cat boy was standing right in front of me. I tried to pounce on him but he was gone again with that damn teleportation trick.

He did it again; behind me, in front of me, to the left, right, up down—he was everywhere and nowhere. I could barely keep up.

As the little prick hopped around he talked, taunted me.

"I am Varrant Officer Schrodinger of the Leztes Battalion und du . . . frankly I don't need to know you," the arrogant little asshole began to laugh and Leach man joined in. Even the silent Big Man just looked like he was enjoying the show.

Footsteps. They set me off and I spun around and began to growl again. I was like a coyote, pure instinct and teeth.

Riley was coming. Unlike the British Leach, The Big Man and the Cat Boy Riley looked nervous and submissive. He was just begging for someone to kill him right now and his submissive posture was making me feel like doing the job. He'd deserve it after what he'd done to all those kids; snatching them and turning them into vampires. If I had a chance I would have made him squeal.

I was about to pounce on Riley when the Big Man stepped in front of him. All thoughts of attacking Riley left my head and I backed up.

My head was swimming and inside of me the rational Diego was fighting to be heard over the burning in my throat and the need to rip flesh. I was desperately trying to find a way to escape but all the exits were blocked. Only one thing kept me from doing something stupid like bolting and that was Bree.

I thought of her, alone and unprotected. Bullshit; she was a fucking vampire. She could take care of herself.

But then she wasn't alone, she was with Fred. The thought of it made me want to go critical. I had to find her and make her mine.

The Cat Boy spoke to me again, this time from The Big Man's shoulder like some fucked up parrot.

"So Diego, are you ready to die?" he asked in that sickeningly cheerful voice.

"What?" I ground out, my voice was nothing but a gravely whisper.

Schrodinger vanished and reappeared hanging from a broken light fixture on the ceiling. "You tried to escape, Herr Diego." His voice and expression became dead serious. "You disobeyed us, Diego. You tried to run."

The bastard teleported again and for the first time I felt like he was the cat and I was the mouse.

"You thought that there would be another life out there," he hissed just like a fucking cat. "Führer befiehl, wir folgen dir. Fuhrer lead, ve follow you. No vone disobeys or leaves."

The Leach spoke next. His eyes glowed and I felt something wrap around my brain like he was hypnotizing me. I couldn't move or blink. Inside me, the monster was screaming for blood and the man in me was wishing I could wake up from this nightmare.

"Do you know life without us?" the Leach asked me, waving his gun for emphasis.

"I said do you know life without us?" he called out.

I tried to remember what life was like before this, but frankly I couldn't. My human life was getting blurrier and blurrier. I couldn't remember my family, if I had a family or anything else. It was like a dream slipping through my fingers.

"NO!" screamed the Leach, his bowler hat nearly falling off his oval shaped head. "Because it doesn't exist!" He laughed and a forked tongue licked his lips. It was like he was reading my mind. "You want reality? We are reality!"

I fought the spell that the Leach was putting on me, but I was helpless. I was strong enough to crush rocks in my hands and tear steel like paper but one Leach had me under his spell like a scared girl.

The Big Man said nothing. He just glared at me like I'd pissed him off. I know he wanted to kill me, I just knew it.

"You are our dog, Diego!" hissed Schro. "Ve say vhen the killing is done. Ve say vhen it's over!"

Have you ever been in a position where you knew you couldn't win? Have you ever just wanted to roll over and die? Where you know you can't win and nobody is coming to save you? This was it. There was no sunset happy ending for me.

Do you have any idea at all what it's like to sit there and watch your dreams come to nothing and to see all your hopes die?

I barely even heard the Leach man laugh at Riley. "I wanted the Captain to kill this little wop, but I like this better."

Schrodinger laughed and appeared next to me. The Leach's spell kept me from reaching out and pulling off the fucker's head. I caught his scent as he leaned in right to my face. He smelled like a dead cat and a live one at the same time. I fucking hated that stink!

"So you kill Riley und then ve kill you, Diego! Isn't it great?" He fluttered those damn eyelashes like a Disney princess.

My head was spinning. Even the prospect of killing Riley didn't do anything for me. All I could think of was Bree.

She was going off to get killed or worse, to elope with that Freaky Fred.

Mostly I was mad. Mad at myself for getting myself into this position, mad at Riley for turning me into a freak of nature, mad at The Big Man and his little Nazi but buddy and most of all I was mad that I couldn't be the man that Bree needed.

I was just some coke sniffing, gang banging little puke and that was all I'd ever been and all that I ever would be.

I felt something inside me snap. Something just broke. Instantly, I took the invisible hand that was wrapped around my brain and broke its grip.

I stood up tall and looked The Big Man in the eye. I roared at him. I felt like I had the strength of Hercules. If I died then I was going to take them all with me.

Riley cowered like a little pussy and the Leach man raised his guns in panic. Whatever voodoo he'd worked on me wasn't working anymore.

Fucking Schro was giggling like a little girl. Christ, in those fucking short shorts he may have as well been a girl. "Ha! That's the spirit, Herr Diego. As ve say in Deutschland, harden the fuck up!"

"I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" I screamed at everyone with all I had. I wasn't going to leave anything left after this. If I survived I was going to keep on killing until I was killed or I got what I wanted.

My torn nerves sent pain up my back but I was beyond giving a shit. The damage was nothing.

I wasn't just going to kill Riley, I was going to fucking brutalize him. I'd make him wash my dirty underwear with his tongue before I killed him. He'd clean where my balls had been and then thank me before I burned his ass to cinders.

Schro hissed gleefully, as if all this shit was about to give him an orgasm. "Ja! You vill, Diego! Fuck each other!"

I was rearing to kill Riley and whoever else I could before I got taken down. The only thing that stopped me was this beautiful, angelic voice.

A vampire woman with long red hair and a cat's grace had appeared in all the confusion. She stood behind Riley and put a hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you, Riley," she said. "You can do this."

"Ah, Victoria, sweet lady; welcome to tonight's entertainment," said the Leach man. I could tell he was still afraid of me. He had every reason to be.

So this was Victoria, the no good bitch whore who ran this whole operation. I knew what I had to do.

"I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU, BITCH!" my eyes burned like the fires of hell and there were a million voices in my head screaming for blood.

Right then, a change came over Riley. It was like something inside him snapped too. He stopped acting like a little pussy and he stepped forward.

I could see it; the fear, hesitation and weakness that I'd always seen in him was gone. He was ready to kill, mentally; but I had more experience with killing than him.

"Get back, Victoria," said Riley.

I couldn't wait anymore. I charged at Riley with full speed, howling like a demon. The building shook as we collided.

Third Person POV:

The building shakes as Riley and Diego clash. Plaster falls from the ceiling and the already sketchy lights flicker.

Schrodinger claps his hands gleefully at the death and murder taking place before him.

There is noise like rocks being crushed and then a noise that sounds horribly like the screech of metal being torn apart.

All we see of the fight are shadows, but one figure is torn apart and undone.

The image shifts to Simon Ferenczy the Wamphyri with a can of petrol. He is seen throwing fuel onto the remains of the downed vampire.

Almost as an afterthought, the Captain throws a burning match onto the mess left behind.

As the defeated vampire burns, some of the burning gasoline leaks away and starts to form words.

Those flaming words read as such:

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

The words then appear on a black background with the Hellsing Logo behind them.

---

Forks, Washington, the meadow

Bella Swan sat on the grass in the high mountain pass. She'd been taken up her by her boyfriend in the hopes that he could appease her desire to watch the battle and at the same time keep her a reasonably safe distance from where the thick of the fighting would be.

Well, as hard as Edward tried to protect her, he really had no idea how far she'd go to throw herself into the line of fire.

It was brisk up her high in the Olympian mountains and Bella needed to wear a coat in order to keep herself warm. The three figures surrounding her though had no such need.

Sitting right next to her, dressed in a long black trench coat was the patriarch of the Cullen Family, Carlisle. Carlisle's manner was sombre. On his finger he wore a ring with the Cullen family crest on it. Around his neck hung a simple wooden cross and a silver pentagram with the design of a goat's head in the center.

Part of the price he paid for living in small towns was that he was forced not only to conceal that he was a vampire but that he was a Satanist and that he and his wife Esme were swingers. Life was hard enough in high school for his kids as it was.

Nearby stood the Hellsing sword fighter Zohall Mercer. The normally cheerful and chipper man was grim and focused. His gun was in his left hand and in his right hand he held a massive straight sword with a curved handle; similar in design to a Katana.

The young man bounced back and forth, using dizzying acrobatics that Bella would never even dream of trying under the influence of any amount of drugs and alcohol. Not normally the jealous type; the mousy wallflower felt the green eyed monster touch her as the blonde swordsman did backflips with such an enormous sword.

The final member of the troika was one Seras Victoria; fledgling of Alucard and servant of the Hellsing order of Protestant Knights. Ready for battle, her shirt was unbuttoned, leaving her massive breasts exposed except for a black bra that showed off her tattoos of power nicely.

The tattoos across her love globes glowed faintly in the pre-dawn darkness. She was ready to power up and vamp out; the call of battle was reaching her ears.

Seras stared off into the sky distractedly. Every so often she's flick out her long tongue as if tasting the air. She could sense the morning coming; sunlight was her enemy but killing was her natural inclination. It was written into her very genes of darkness to be as bloody as possible; to be violent beyond the inclination of any natural creature of desire.

It was simply that she'd be putting her violent tendencies towards nobler purposes; using them to defend as much as to destroy.

The fight was due to start at any moment. Alice tried to give them an exact time but such a thing proved impossible for her. The presence of the wolves combined with the indecisiveness of Victoria meant that for now they'd just have to wait.

For the longest time, Bella had taken pride in her patience. At least she saw herself as a patient person. Now thought the wait was killing her.

Well, it wasn't like she wanted a murderous army of newborn vampires to charge into this and try to waste her precious fiancé Edward.

It was just that she wished this damn thing would be over with once and for all so that she could begin her happy marriage with the man of her dreams. Some days it felt like the whole world was trying to work against her happiness and wishes.

Hoping to while away the crushingly long minutes, she turned to her future father in law and asked him. "So, what's it like being a vampire, Carlisle?"

The Cullen father smiled. "It's very boring actually," he said with a small chuckle. "The years seem to drag on after a time and the only thing one can do is try either get married or get a hobby."

Bella smiled back a bit at him but otherwise drew up blanks for further conversation topics.

Luckily, Carlisle filled in the blanks for her. "Bella, I hope you understand that being a vampire will not be easy. Even if we do win today, there will be further challenges down the road, further anguish and suffering."

Carlisle ran a hand through his blonde hair and for the first time looked his age of over three hundred years. "Marriage itself is not easy. I've made so many mistakes and unwittingly caused so much anguish for my family and wife that at time I can't even live with myself."

In the background, Zohall stared down the blade of his sword as if examining some indescribably property of the steel. Indeed, the blade seemed to glimmer with a green light similar to that emanating from the man's eyes. Or it may have been a trick of the light.

Carlisle continued to spill to Bella, perhaps voicing the fears and weaknesses which he daren't reveal to his family for the irrational phobia that they might think less of him. "My greatest fear, if you can believe it is becoming old."

This elicited weird looks from both Bella and Seras. The man was born in the sixteen forties for fuck's sake

The Cullen pappy saw their looks and elaborated. "What I mean is old spiritually. I keep seeing myself as a bitter old man, tough as dried meat and unkind to say the least."

It was clear that neither Zohall, Seras nor Bella understood what Carlisle was feeling so he kept it short. "Look, all you are young; don't limit yourselves."

At that exact moment, the two way radio that Zohall was carrying squawked. Attentive as ever, the young swordsman grabbed his radio and spoke the special code into it. "This is Splatter Master, over."

"I hear you Splatter Master, this is Rebel Yell. Crystal Ball has given the green light, Splatter Master, over." Rebel Yell and Crystal Ball were the code names assigned to Jasper and Alice. And according to wee little Alice, the time to fight was now.

Nodding grimly, Zohall hit the button and spoke over all frequencies. "This is Splatter Master; Crystal Ball has given the green light."

There was a brief but heavy pause in the air as the moment of justice had arrived. There was no more time to be hesitant or contemplative. The time now had come to act, to fight and kill; it was time to blaze a trail of destruction the likes of which had not been seen since Rommel's armies had burned a path through North Africa.

"Operation: Guns of the Patriots is a go. I repeat, operation: Guns of the Patriots is a go. May the force be with you always."

Throwing aside his radio, Zohall grabbed onto his chest and with one move, threw off his long trench coat. He stood before Bella with sword and gun, bare chested like the hero of some German myth of blood and iron.

"Oi, Miss Swan," Seras's British lit distracted Bella from eyeing the handsome denizen of the former Raccoon City.

Seras stood over Bella with a small razor blade in between her fingers. Bella blanched and felt a bit ill at what Seras was about to do but she knew that this was all part of the price she was paying to be a part of this fight.

"Don't back out on us now, girl," Seras said sternly. The girl wanted to be part of the fight, but Seras knew that she really had no idea what that entailed. She'd been sheltered for so long; her life experience was almost the total opposite of what Seras's had been.

In a way, Seras pitied the girl. She obviously couldn't handle the heat; she really needed to stay away from the fireplace.

The girl gasped a bit as Seras took the razor blade and ran it along her palm. For a second there was nothing, then that thin line in the skin began to weep red. Seras's eyes instantly lit up. She was looking like a dog that smelled food.

Turning Bella's hand downwards, Sears let the blood drip from the teen's hand while she cupped her own.

Blood drops fell into Seras hands like water. When enough had fallen in, Seras held the cupped blood up to her face and snorted it up her nose like a drug.

The virgin blood went straight to the brain. The effect was instantaneous. Seras's eyes shot open, now a shade of blood red with cat like slit pupils. Before she was operating at a hundred percent, now she was overdriving it to two hundred percent.

Fangs fully extended, Seras looked at Carlisle and Zohall warily, as if they may attack. Her breathing was heavy and her hands were twitching. She was in full battle mode. "Let's fucking come and have I," she growled.

Taking that as his cue, Zohall jumped onto Seras back and drove his sword into her shoulder.

She hissed in pain but made no attempt to throw him off.

"Charge!" he yelled.

Leaping off beyond the trees in a single bound, Seras went sailing with the human warrior on her back. She let off a very bird like caw of fury before vanishing from sight.

Only Carlisle and Bella were left, but not for long.

Patting something under his coat, he zipped off into the coming madness. The curtain of the theater of death was about to open and now this one, insignificant girl had front row tickets to the carnage.

---

Bree Tanner was lost and afraid, no doubt about that. During the initial rush, she's lost track of Diego and with every fibre of her being she wished that he was alright. The whole trip from the old abandoned warehouse seemed like a sensory blur; she couldn't remember a thing.

Actually, she could remember one thing though—feeding. Riley had led the newborns to feed on a ferry full of humans. The results had been pure chaos. The inside of the ferry looked like a truck full of ground beef exploded. The weak humans had never stood a chance.

It takes about fifteen square pounds of pressure to crack a human skull; the newborns had been packing enough pressure to crush steel and aluminum.

As guilty as she felt about it, feeding on all those humans felt great for Bree. Something about ripping heads off and drinking from the neck stumps really gave Bree a sense of control that in every other way was totally lacking in her life.

She wasn't the strongest or the most aggressive of the vamps, and for that she was grateful to have stayed near Freaky Fred. Fred had stuck beside her during the run, somehow. Her natural talent of causing disgust in others kept her safe and for that she was happy.

Yet she couldn't get the worry feeling out of her gut. It made her nervous and twitchy. She couldn't stop wringing her hands and desperately she wanted to keep running and running and never stop.

After ditching the ferry and sinking it, the newborns were lead into the Olympic mountain range for that fictional day where the sun wouldn't make them burn.

Bree really didn't notice it because her condition largely kept operating on a more or less instinctual level, but Riley was different.

He'd vanished and appeared right before the ferry feeding. Riley's manner was different; he was confident now, and his attitude was much colder.

Whereas before he'd been like an overwhelmed babysitter, he was now like an authoritarian father from hell. If the newborns got out of line, he didn't need the Big Man anymore to help him out.

Riley surveyed the newborn army. It mattered not how many were slain or how many might make it out alive. What was truly important was that victoria was allowed to achieve her revenge. When all this was over, Riley would personally take the surviving newborns and kill them all.

The only ones who were meant to be spared were those with some kind of conceivable talent. Those ones were to be dismembered and shipped off to . . . those people. Millennium, the last freak show of the Second World War. The Last Battalion of the Third Reich, planning their next move in secrecy.

The thought of them made Riley's hair stand up. Victoria seemed to trust them. Hell, she seemed to be more at ease with them than she was with him.

He cast aside that thought. No, Victoria loved him. He'd proven his love to her when he made his first kill in the early hours of dawn. There was no doubt in his mind now that she surely loved him. She'd even demonstrated her love to him when he'd walked away from the burning embers of the annoying kid |Diego.

The boy had been a thorn in his side for who knew how long, but Riley just never had the stomach to do anything about it. Well, he'd finally grown a pair; he was a man now, and there was much more killing to be had.

Some of the newborns tried to deviate from the path. After Riley tore the eyes from their heads, the rest of them weren't so eager anymore to test his authority; in fact he was rather enjoying it. The one newborn, Freaky Fred was especially fun to torment. With that damn ability of his, he'd always made Riley feel sick; and he shouldn't have felt sick since he stopped being human.

It was fun to see that little slip of a girl, Bree try to help Fred pick up his eyes off the ground. Riley didn't give them any time. He tore a hunk of flesh off of Bree's side with his teeth and growled at the two of them to press on.

Riley smelled it, they all did. The scent of the girl was there; stale but still present. They all caught the scent and in the instinct addled newborn vampire brains, all of them wanted the reward that would come to the one that killed the girl.

Riley couldn't help but smile ironically at the fact that only Victoria could claim that little human bitch. The newborns were just the distraction.

Like the Meatloaf song says: lives are truly meaningless and we are busy being blessed with all we can take and pocket.

Riley began to urge the newborns further and faster. He was like a cowboy herding cattle but with much greater difficulty than any rancher ever had. For one thing, these cows bit back and were rowdy as rabid tigers.

The newborns charged forward at just under the speed of sound. Anything in their path was torn down. Trees were uprooted, plants were trampled. One stray deer was splattered into oblivion by the moving mass of stone flesh. The poor animal never stood a chance.

The army of newborns was like a force of nature. Nothing standing against them could hold. They were the battering ram that could smash through all obstacles and tear down any door or wall.

Then, before the army, in a field full of flowers which were just starting to unfurl their petals in the cool, weak morning sun stood the mate of the human bitch. There he was with his copper hair and nice clothes; totally non-threatening to the tidal wave of murderous fury that was bearing down on him.

Then quite to the shock of anybody with rational thought, Edward went and charged at the newborn army with full speed. This caused the newborns to increase their own speed and Riley to wonder what the hell this bastard was playing at. It was like he wanted to die.

Edward charged the newborns, legs turning into a blur and face set into an expression of determination. This was like baseball if baseball had been played by the Romans. All he had to do was keep his head straight on his shoulders and remember all that he learned in practice.

Then right before he could be totally crushed by that wall of furious marble flesh like an ant, Edward thrust his legs under his body and thrust outward, pushing himself backwards and creating a huge crater in the earth.

The newborns didn't care; they ran right through the deep crater that Edward created with the ease of a trench breaching tank.

Grasping hands reached for Edward, some of which only misses ripping off his face by millimeters. Furiously, he backpedalled in an effort to escape the current. As he turned around and began to run forwards, a few stray teeth tore strips of fabric off his shirt.

This was close, but he didn't volunteer for the most dangerous role in this plan without informed consent.

Like clockwork, Edward ran and the newborns followed. It was a plan lifted from the strategy books of the Mongol Empire. The fastest moving unit of the army would charge the enemy lines while firing arrows. At the last second they'd spin around and run away, making the enemy make chase.

The enemy would chase and then be slaughtered by the heavy Mongol troops. Their strategy was the same here.

Yet as Edward was running, he saw the strangest thing. There in the middle of his and Bella's meadow was a fake plastic bush.

Why the hell hadn't he noticed it before?

Riley ran at the back of the group. Even the stragglers like Fred and Bree were caught up in the bloodlust of the change. Yet it too struck him odd that there'd be a fake plastic bush in the meadow.

As Edward ran past the bush, a giant fist came out of the bush and punched him right in the head. As Edward went flying to the side and the fist retracted, Riley read the inscription on the white glove that the mystery person was wearing.

"Sleep with Dead"

At that instant, empty beer cans and bayonets started flying from the bush. The newborns were suddenly stopped by a wall of bayonets. There were sickening thuds as the indestructible bayonets imbedded themselves in the stone flesh of the vampires.

Some of the newborns tripped and fell, becoming trampled by their uncaring, blood crazy cousins. Still, the speed of the newborns had been greatly diminished.

That was when the plastic bush exploded and a man shot out; flying high into the sky like a bird of prey on drugs.

Riley stopped dead in his tracks. He had no idea . . . who the fuck this guy was!

For a second, the giant man with blond hair and priest's outfit hovered in the sky, caught between his own momentum and the bonds of gravity.

As he sailed gracefully in the brightening dawn sky, the flying Scottish Giant took two giant blades from his coat and slid the edges together, creating a shower of blue sparks.

Riley just stood flabbergasted. Who the fuck was this? This guy was so crazy looking that at the loony bin they certified him sane just to get rid of him.

The warrior priest Alexander Anderson hit the ground with the grace of a falling meteorite. His impact squashed one newborn flat and drove its head into its knees. Standing on the squishy pile of broken marble, he crowed a bible passage in full blooded lunacy.

"Go up, my warriors, against the land of Merathaim and against the people of Pekod. Yes, march against Babylon, the land of rebels, a land that I will judge! Pursue, kill, and completely destroy them, as I have commanded you," says the LORD. "Let the battle cry be heard in the land, a shout of great destruction".

Grinning with homicidal glee, Anderson was filled with humble, psychotic pleasure as the newborns growled at him. Good, he was tired of fighting vampires who knew his name and fled him. It was time for some neophyte vampires to know why he'd gotten the reputation he had.

"Prepare fer the ultimate Catholic fightin' manoeuvres!" Anderson shouted like a fan at a football game. Then he pulled out a phone from his pocket and shouted into it. "Ah just wish tha' HEINKEL AN' YUMIE were here with meh!"

Ah, guilt trip; Anderson was a master of them. A lifetime of raising children had given Anderson master of that. But there was no time now for shaming his companions for not coming on this cockamamie, half brained scheme which was totally unsanctioned by Iscariot authority; Anderson was on a mission from God and he's spent all night squatting inside a plastic bush drinking beer and praying to Jesus.

Anderson ran at the newborns, screaming at the top of his lungs. The newborns in return roared at him like angry lions.

Edward could only watch in amazement as Anderson slammed into the oncoming tidal wave of newborns like a whale falling into the sea.

Like the whale to the sea, Anderson was in his element. He'd fought newborn Unstet before but never in this number; he was going to enjoy this new experience.

With a wide sweep of one bayonet, he hacked off a head and two arms. With a slice of his other bayonet, he cut a great big Unstet right in half. The bisected vampire swiped Anderson as it flew through the air and tore off half of his face.

Anderson's teeth snapped as half of his fact literally grew back. He began to spin like a whirling dervish to dislodge the newborns who'd jumped onto his back and were digging chunks of flesh from his back.

Anderson threw his weight backwards and flattened the vampires on his back. Several vampires tried to jump on top of him but they flew back as Anderson pulled his legs and squatted into a might jump.

One newborn threw himself at Anderson's throat, eyeing the thick neck and juicy arteries. Though its brain was receiving mixed signals from this creature's slow heartbeat and inhuman smell, the newborn was really too stupid to recognize that Anderson had the power to kill him.

Suddenly, white teeth filled the newborn's vision as Anderson lunged forward and sank his teeth into the newborn's eye.

Anderson was snorting like an enraged bull elephant as he did his best to bite through that newborn's head like a nut shell.

The newborn howled in pain as the white teeth crushed the invulnerable marble flesh and titanium bone; Anderson's stinking breath stinging the Unstet's nose.

Suddenly, the unfortunate vampire was sliced to bits and pieces by a flurry of bayonets. Disgustingly, the fallen parts of the downed vampire wriggled like animated worms. Chunks of marble hard intestines and organs writhed, trying to recombine like a sea sponge.

Anderson turned around and started to hack at more newborn vampires, his blade making a terrible screech as it sliced through the nigh indestructible flesh. But even Anderson's godly bayonets didn't take long to grow dull and useless from the unyielding flesh of such pitiless adversaries. Luckily Anderson seemed to have a near infinite supply of the damn things.

Almost comically, Anderson still had the severed newborn's head in his mouth. The head was snapping back as Anderson held onto it like a stubborn dog with a bone.

Anderson was forced to drop the head when he took a punch to the face, several of his teeth flying through mid-air like sparkles.

Edward meanwhile was just in the process of extricating himself from the chaos when he saw Anderson fly at him from the force of the newborn's punch.

Edward veered left but Anderson seemed to follow him, so he veered right. Anderson was still following Edward as he flew through the air like superman's fucked up cousin.

While he flew like a bird, Anderson yowled at Edward and waved his bayonets like flapping wings. He was about as crazy as a Viking on crystal meth; Edward just like a lost scared kid, fleeing the flying Scotsman.

Suddenly, Anderson slammed into Edward with a sound of meat hitting stone. Except in this case it was stone that was losing, not meat.

All sound Edward could make was cut off as Wildman Anderson grabbed him by the throat and put a bayonet two inches from between his eyes. Edward's topaz eyes looked up at Anderson with a look of pure fear.

Anderson was seething with rage, but also full of pleasure that he'd get to kill Edward. When the lousy brat beat him that first time Anderson set foot in Forks, Anderson never forgot the humiliation. Now he'd take back his dignity.

"Are ya laughin' now, funneh boy?" Anderson asked with a look of pure fury. "Have ya been laughin' at old Alex? HAVE YA!"

Edward's two way radio was busted, not that anybody could do anything to help him now. He was about to face eternity at the hands of the Catholic Crusader.

Even more alarming than the bayonet in his hand was Anderson's thought. They were scaring the shit out of Edward; a maelstrom of flashing images, random words and psychotic intent. It was like looking into a randomly edited video created by a serial killer.

Edward saw flashes of gunfights, police chases, chimpanzees eating each other, Alucard with a moustache and the batman symbol.

Edward suddenly cried out for mercy when he felt Anderson pull down his pants.

Anderson's one eye bulged out while the other was half lidded and his own face couldn't seem to decide whether to smile or snarl. "I won't kill yeh," Anderson growled. "Ah'll make ye suffer as ah've suffered from the humiliation o' not killin' yeh!"

"Please," Edward begged, had he been human tears would have been pouring from his eyes. He could see what Anderson wanted to do in his mind and he did not like it!

Before Edward could beg or pleas more, Anderson put his head down and actually chomped down on Edward's cock and balls.

Edward shrieked in the pain of a thousand shards of broken glass at his violation; for it was a violation. This psychopath Anderson was violating him in a way that wouldn't simply heal. The wounds were very much physical.

Edward screamed and cried for God to kill him as Anderson chewed on his genitals like a rabid dog.

There was a shrieking sound of metal tearing as Anderson bit off Edward's dick and balls.

Anderson made bizarre moaning noises as he chewed Edward's genitals. The stoney parts made crunching noises in Anderson's mouth.

Suddenly, Anderson was barrelled over by a violent, angry newborn. Anderson coughed up Edward's genitals as the newborn bit down on his hand, causing him to drop the bayonet.

As he tried to reach for another bayonet, a second newborn landed on Anderson's shoulder and started biting on his head.

Anderson screamed in pain as his torment of Edward has distracted him and created an opening in his defenses.

Edward meanwhile had sped away, weeping like a girl rebuffed at the high school dance. He was a broken man now.

Anderson thrashed at the newborns which were piling down on him like ants. He tried to pull out a bayonet from his coat, but three more newborns slammed into him and shattered the blades he had with him.

High up in the mountains, watched Schrodinger the eternal cat. The small Nazi catboy giggled gleefully as he viewed the destruction through a brass telescope. The inclusion of the Vatican dog was an unexpected bonus. He normally wouldn't warn Victoria about such a thing, but they way she stroked his ears and petted him . . . it made him purr.

Schrodinger saw that Riley had taken half of the newborns to find the human girl, which would then run into the wolf pack that Riley knew nothing about. Schrodinger laughed at how well Victoria had manipulated Riley. It was positively Machiavellian.

Schrodinger then suddenly snapped his fingers; he'd have to update Dok and Herr Joham on the situation.

Joham's hidden Nazi, base, South America, Unknown location

Joham was just getting out of the shower when Schrodinger materialized in front of him. The grandfatherly Unstet was just towelling off his back when the catboy materialized inches away from his nude groin.

Schrodinger held up his right arm in Hitler salute, "Heil, Herr Joham! Seig Heil!"

Joham however was hardly pleased. He looked like he'd just been touched by a priest in the wrong way. The first thing he did was throw his towel over Schrodinger's head.

Schrodinger's protests were muffled by the towel, as were his cries of pain when Joham tore the towel rack off the wall and started to beat Schrodinger over the head with it.

When the towel was red with Schrodinger's blood and Schrodinger was moaning in pain, Joham grabbed a thousand dollar bottle of aftershave off the solid gold bathroom counter and busted it over Schrodinger's head, hoping that the alcohol rich mix would burn the cat boy's injuries.

Olympic Mountain range, United States

Schrodinger teleported back into the mountain top with his telescope. He was less than enthused by Joham's reaction to him appearing before him while the old man was naked.

Schro shook his head. Joham was such a grouch. But the Nazi credo demanded total obedience to superiors, and Joham was a superior, outranked only by Dok. He'd report to Dok later though.

Down in the valley the newborns charged with riley as their minder. He'd run with them for as long as possible but then he'd have to go back and corral the last group of newborns after they'd finished with the priest.

Riley shook his head. There was no way that man could be a priest. There was no way that any church would accept such a berserker into their ranks. Yet such a man would be perfect for fighting vampires; strong enough to fight vampires and fearless enough to take on an army of them.

Riley was getting worried because he'd seen none of the enemy vampires yet. The day was fully risen but the thick cloud cover prevented the rays of sun coming through and illuminating the day. So it was still quite dark out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Riley saw something zoom from out of the trees and dart at one of his newborns.

The newborn shrieked as its right leg was violently and suddenly relieved from it. The darting figure ghosted back into the trees unseen.

Riley's already strung out senses were put on a higher state of alert. He jerked aside as he saw . . . something. Two things darted from the left and snatched a newborn from the pack. The newborn screamed as the two phantom attackers dragged off the unfortunate vampire by the arms, crushing the arms in their teeth to prevent use of the deadly appendages.

Riley's eyes widened as the herd of newborns suddenly stopped. They were stupid creatures, ruled by instinct except for their rare handful of calmer moments. Now they were following herd instinct against an unknown enemy.

Riley suddenly put a hand to his nose in disgust. What was the fucking stink? It was like wet dog, but much, much worse. Wet dog that could kill you—and most likely would.

Suddenly, Riley caught something moving for him. He managed to duck just in time to miss a giant set of jaws clamp over where his head had been an eye blink ago.

Thrusting his arm out, he made contact with something dense and furry. The unknown attacker flew back but rolled onto its feet, evidently unharmed.

Riley could only stare as a wolf the size of a horse bared its massive fangs at him. Mother fucker; the thing in Red Riding Hood had nothing on this bastard.

The wolf was a sandy colour and built solidly as a tank. Yet the hatred that burned in its eyes was all too human. She was mad at all vampires, for they were the reason that she was a freak. Puberty was a pleasure cruise compared to turning into the only female wolf in history, and Leah was ready to take out all her anger and aggression on these newborns. She'd even work with the Cullens to kill all the fuckers.

If Stalin could have signed a treaty with Hitler, then Leah would work with the Cullens for a short while.

Riley rapidly backpedalled as the she-wolf lunged at him, claws and teeth glinting in the cloudy early morning. He could actually feel the wind from her powerful jaws biting down.

Seeing an opening, Riley lunged for a killing bite to the wolf's throat. Leah however was smarter than that. Feinting, she wriggled out of his bite path and used one forelimb to claw off the side of his head, tearing off an eye in the process.

She in turn used this distraction to sink teeth into his neck. She missed her strike and got his arm instead, just below the shoulder. Knowing better than to let the leech bite her, the female wolf twisted her head and tore off Riley's arm.

God, it felt fucking great to finally get a chance to kill something! She'd hated vampires for so long, and she needed to catch up on practice with her vampire killing.

As she took apart Riley, one of the newborns broke away from the horde and charged for her, arms outstretched and driven by the primitive impulse for blood. The wolf stank but the vampire's unrefined brain sensed that she was food and threat in one turn, so it attacked.

It never reached Leah because at that moment, another sandy coloured wolf jumped onto the back of the vampire and crushed the head in its jaws like a walnut. Her brother Seth was watching her.

The wolves were all one unit. What one saw, they all saw and heard for they were a single hive mind; the perfect unit of pack hunters.

Seth instantly jumped off the back of the headless vampires. With vampires, there's only one way to kill them; that goes for all species. Anything else would just slow them down or piss them off. Even a headless Unstet was deadly.

Spitting out the remains of the vampire's head—disgusting—Seth communicated with his sister. Watch out, Leah.

Leah was less than friendly to her bro. Save it, fat boy. Just kill the fuckers!

Because it was fucking embarrassing for her brother to watch out for her like that. She was the older sister; it was her duty to take care of him. The rest of the pack would probably break her for it later—cocksuckers. For now, she had vampires to kill.

Up on a different mountain peak, Schrodinger watched the wolves attack through his brass telescope. He chuckled at the damage the red Indians were doing. Being what he was, Schrodinger was everywhere and nowhere; yet he'd never actually been in person to America. He'd already seen Indians, all he wanted to do before leaving this country was to see some gangsters and then his day would be complete.

Teleporting to another mountain peak, Schrodinger refocused his telescope and watched the fight play out.

Half of the newborns had broken away from Riley and they were just stampeding in rage, totally rogue and out of control.

Suddenly, a swarm of Molotov cocktails bombarded the newborns. Most of the petrol bombs missed, a few of the newborns were covered in burning gasoline with magnesium shaving mixed in for extra heat and burn power. These burning newborns thrashed and screamed, throwing their neighbours into a panic.

From out of the shadows cast by the molotovs leaping like hellcats came Rosalie, Esme, Alice and papa Carlisle in his long trench coat.

Unlike his usual gentle self, Carlisle came from the woods with a brace of flintlock pistols. The expression on his face was so mean it could scare every character Clint Eastwood ever played.

Using the bang of his pistols to create more confusion among the easily startled newborns, Carlisle attacked with his five finger discount. One newborn attacked the papa vampire only to take a fist into the mouth and out the back of the head.

Rosalie was like a jungle cat, preferring to kill with her teeth, tearing off heads. She was without mercy. Nobody fucked with her family; she'd kill God himself if he gave her family a sideways glance.

Mamma Esme was even more furious. Lovely Esmeralda was like some goddess of video gamers made real. A newborn tore open the front of her shirt, exposing her breasts but she did not let her state of toplessness stop her. Too many cocksuckers had messed with her family as of late. And any mother will tell you, family is everything, everything.

"DIE MAGGOT WHORES!" Esme screamed at the top of her lungs. Two newborns lunged at her but she spun around and slammed their heads together.

By far the most disturbing of the bunch was Alice. A huge crazy grin painted her face, eyes rolling with sadistic glee. If you could see her, you'd think she was a freshly escaped mental patient. She tore the eyes and ears from the newborns and wore them in her hair like trophies.

Smiling and drooling venom, Alice put a torn ear around her finger like a ring. Fucked girl that she was; she thought she looked good. She didn't have to worry about family, her parents could do that. She just liked wearing the body parts of her enemies as accessories. Hell, maybe there was a reason the Apaches used to scalp people back in the old days—they made great hats.

She had a strong sadistic streak and a pathological tendency to view people as chess pieces in her grand schemes. Maybe Jasper loved her lack of empathy; he had enough for both of them.

Rosalie watched her mother, father and sister kill vampires. She saw an arm and a head burning in the fire. The head looked up at her with horror, but she just kicked it back. She preferred to let her other family members do the right thing. This was war and—

Rosalie stopped as she heard something say to her in a German accent. "Ist that the best du got, bitch?"

Before she could turn around, that same person squeezed her ass. Rosalie's eyes widened and she spun around but there was no one there. A number of newborns had fled though a considerable number were burning. The Cullens made no chase.

The whole family turned their heads as Rose freaked out for seemingly no reason. "DON'T TOUCH MY ASS, WONDER WAFFLE! I AM THE FAMILY PRINCESS!"

As Carlisle was reloading his flintlock pistols, Alice dance past, speaking with a fake German accent. "Zhere is so much blood! WUNDERBAR!"

Seeing her sister with eyes in her hair, disembodies fingers in her ears and random bones in her next to non-existent cleavage, Rosalie grabbed Alice and slapped her across the face.

The smile was instantly wiped off her face. Alice instantly spoke to Rose in a dazed voice. "Rosalie, if I ever lose it—really lose it—will you kill me? I'm counting on you."

Rose just smiled and hugged her sister. "Of course I'll kill you Alice, just for you."

Up on his mountain top, Schrodinger was grinning from ear to pointy ear. "These little girl sparkly vampires are fun! I vonder how the Captain is?"

---

Down in the woods, the Captain stood around next to a row of dog kennels. Inside the kennels were some of Joham Devenpeck's creations.

Back in the day, Joham had worked for the Third Reich to use a rare element to create an army of zombies. It was a project totally independent of Order 666 and the Millennium Project.

Working alongside medical geniuses like Edward Richtofen and a man called Maxis, Joham had successfully created a race of non-ghoul zombies.

Then, using the pet dog of Dr. Maxis's daughter, Joham created a race of flaming zombie dogs called Hellhounds.

Joham had been working for decades to perfect them but he'd told Dok and the last Nazis that he'd finally gotten the formula right.

The Captain checked his wrist watch while the hellhounds growled at him. In two seconds he'd unleash the hellhounds and they'd kill multiple vampires and possibly Schrodinger.

Well, two seconds were up, the Captain hit a remote control button and all the two dozen kennel boxes opened up. The big werewolf had the ghost of expectation and excitement on his normally placid face.

The flaming zombie dogs ran two paces and then turned and started to attack the Captain. Taken by surprise, the Captain shook around to get the goddamn dogs off his coat. The hellhounds growled and bit into the wolfman, but his iron flesh defied their zombie teeth, which broke easily.

Seeing how this wasn't going anywhere, the Captain spent the next two minutes kicking the crap out of every single one of those damn mutts.

The Captain picked himself up and kicked away the last zombie dog corpse. He hated dogs. Wolves were meant to run free and rule the wild. Dogs were meant to live on leashes.

His trench coat and uniform was in tatters and worst of all his hat was in pieces. Now that pissed the Captain off.

He didn't give a damn what the Dok's orders were, when he got back to South America he was kicking Joham's ass.

Among the mass of newborns, all was chaos. They were herd animals with no herd instinct. They'd run and attack each other and then run and try to attack the unseen enemies who tormented them.

Though a great number of them had been torn apart, the Cullens and allies were not as organized as they should have been and a great number reassembled and continued to fight.

One such newborn, Bree Tanner was in a world of shit. She'd lost sight of freaky Fred and she had no idea whether he was alive or not. Her rational mind was working on the problem of whether to stay behind and wait for the men in her life or cut and run and get the fuck out of there.

She didn't know though, she really didn't know. There were so many things going on. The day was so bright even through the clouds. She could smell smoke with a sickening perfume scent . . . the sweet scent of vampire parts burning.

Yet no matter what her frontal lobes said, her lizard brain was well in charge. Bree was a creature of pure instinct and her rational self was just a passenger along for the ride.

It wouldn't be so hard normally to fight for control, but that lingering smell of human; no matter how stale and old it was did not fail to stoke the fire in her throat.

Suddenly, her nose and the noses of many others caught the scent of human in the air—a male, fresh and lively. His scent was buried under the dank scent of mud but they'd have no problems finding him.

Bree let out a beastly, howl as mindless as a ghoul and ran with her newborn brothers and sisters towards the smell of that sweet, life giving fluid.

They didn't have to run far, the human stood in a clearing. He was tall and his hair was blond; like they'd smelled, every inch of him was covered in mud from head to foot.

Except for the long sword in his hand and the gun in his hand, the human looked much like tribal man; ready for war and connected with the spirits of the natural world.

The newborns just knew one thing; that this man was food. Then he turned around to face them.

The newborns halted just for the briefest moments of time. For this man had no fear in his eyes. Fact of the matter was, young Zohall Mercer had all the fear burned out of him long ago. His innocence had been torn when zombies ate his home town.

Years as an anti B.O.W. mercenary had honed his battle instincts and two years working under the wing of Alucard had gotten rid of any ability to feel fear he had.

Hate was good, Zohall knew. The normally goofy boy was in his game mode. It was him or them and he wasn't the one at the end of this who'd be torn apart and burned. With a flick of his wrist he threw the sheath off his sword, green eyes glowing in the dark.

Before the eyes of the vampires, the sword began to take on a glow. It was lighting up, somehow sensing the power and intent of its owner. The sword which Zohall had dubbed "Gleam" was shining like the legendary sword Excalibur.

The pause ended, one of the newborns charged forward with the same brand of primitive hunger as a ghoul feels.

Yet against the very laws of nature and physics, the human Zohall sidestepped the blow and cut the vampire into quarters with his magic sword.

Bree stopped in her tracks as her companion fell to pieces. Before she could respond to this utterly foreign stimuli, Zohall brought his Desert Eagle Handgun to bear and fired at Bree.

Bree's head snapped back as her lower jaw was blown off. The sound of the gunshot startled the other newborns, who feared the noise of gunpowder as much as the primitive tribes of man did when the strange gunpowder armed invaders came with intent to murder all those years ago.

Zohall's aim was as true as his swordsmanship. With his right hand, his magic sword cut into the invulnerable vampires like butter. With is left hand, he dealt in lead; like a gunslinger of old his shots hit the vital spots.

Bree snapped backwards, grabbing her smouldering jaw. Jamming it into her mouth crudely, she started to babble. Maybe what she was trying to say was "sorry."

She was sorry, but forgiveness would never be hers.

The gunfire stopped. Zohall pressed the button on the handle of his gun and the empty magazine ejected.

The newborns renewed their attack for that was all they knew. A vampire with one arm and half a head charged Zohall. The top half of the creature's head was sliced away, but it was not dead. Its sense of smell was unharmed and it had just enough brain left to be hungry.

The half-headed newborn charged at Zohall with teeth bared. For all that he human had done, he hadn't broken their will to fight.

Zohall crossed his arms.

Just as the newborn was about to squeeze him like a zit, something swooped out of the sky and took him out of harm's way like a mamma eagle watching over her chicks.

The newborns looked up in fear, for the first time they felt true fear.

Up there on a tree was a woman. As gently as an egg, she put down her companion Zohall before flashing an evil grin at the Unstet.

Bree couldn't believe it. The woman had strange runes written across her large bosom, which glowed with potent magic and wards of protection. From her mouth jutted fangs like the killing tools of a panther.

Bree couldn't believe it. It was the mother fucking bride of Dracula.

Red eyed and wild, Seras was hopped up on Bella's virgin blood like cocaine. Bunching her shapely legs, she threw herself down into the mass of newborns.

Unlike Zohall or the Cullens, she could match these newborns muscle for muscle. Thanks to her master's lineage and the runes on her chest, she could fight these newborns on equal terms.

She dropped into their midst like a meteorite. As she fell on them, she screamed a howl of blood and joy—like a fanatical football fan.

And as quick as they were stunned, the newborns howled right back at her like a rival team. Even meek Bree tanner howled with her half regenerated jaw and sank her sharp teeth into Seras's throat, just as the Hellsing vampire was kicking aside two more newborns.

Blood flew everywhere as Bree had broken a major artery. Seras however, just gritted her teeth and bit back. Knocking Bree back, the damaged jawbone became stuck in Seras's neck.

Seras scowled and cracked her knuckles. She was going to give them a demonstration of Zohall's favourite retro video game . . . Splatterhouse.

---

In the wilderness of the Olympic Mountains, the woman called Victoria ran with grace and speed. Time was of the essence. She was sacrificing a whole army of newborn vampires and that idiot Riley to kill one human girl—it would be a worthy sacrifice. True love could pay any price, for she truly loved James.

With her fire red hair full of leaves and skin milky white, Victoria looked like a beautiful super heroine except for her red eyes. Her feet were bare and her clothes were worn. She was the pinnacle of rustic beauty. She could have any man or woman she wanted.

After the human bitch was dead, she wasn't sure what she'd do. She'd probably join Millennium though. She loved that little Schrodinger. Unlike Joham, Victoria loved cats with a passion. She saw something of herself in those crafty, cute, fluffy creatures who could bend human wills without even trying.

Suddenly, she was forced to stop as the Schrodinger's cat materialized before her. "Hail, Frau Victoria!" Schrodinger shouted.

Playfully, Victoria saluted back in Nazi style. "Heil," she said before giving the cat boy a hug.

Schrodinger immediately blushed and started to stutter. This was the first time a female was affecting him so. Lots of men had made him blush—hot, studly men—but never a woman before; unless you counted that Thai lady boy.

Victoria pulled away and then her tone was all business. "Report, Warrant officer."

Schrodinger nodded and began to gush information. If wasn't a vampire with super powerful brain speed, Victoria might need to video tape Schrodinger and play it all back in slow motion.

"The Cullens are pissed. They haff killed many wampires but they are sloppy and many more have survived. Alexander Anderson ate Eduard's testicles und it was so sexy! Then the Captain got bitten by Joham's hellhounds und the spiky haired girl wore eyes in her hair und Esme isn't eine slut und Bella is all tied up!"

Schrodinger paused to breathe in deeply. "The human pet is tied up zwei kilometer from this position. Just keep going this vay."

Victoria nodded. "It sounds like a trap. They are using her as bait." She face broke into a smile. "I've underestimated these yellow eyed vampires."

Schrodinger grinned back and tried to reassure Victoria. "Don't vorry, Frau Victoria. You vill get your revenge und then du vill join us und du vill scratch mein ears all the time."

The boy's smile turned into something altogether more evil. "The Cullens are pissed off, but they should be afraid."

"Nothing ist vorse than people who help the lesser races," Schrodinger seethed with venom. "Those who do are low, gutless cowards und race traitors." His face turned into a cat's evil grin. "Not just the human girl, but all of them. They will be dealt with; ve vill break their necks and burn their bodies, the low, gutless veak rats. Hell hath no fury like an army on the march."

The cat boy giggled maliciously before saying to Victoria. "Do vhat you came to do. I'll help you."

Then he vanished. Victoria needed no encouragement.

Neither did the bayonet that went through her throat and out the back of her neck. She gurgled in shock and pain at the holy steel going through her throat. She only just managed to duck before seven more bayonets flew through the spot in the air where her head been.

Frantically she'd scanned around. Suddenly, the butt of the bayonet opened up and sparks started to fly out of it.

Acting fast, Victoria tore the foreign object from her throat right before it blew up with enough force to rip her to shreds.

Tuning in with her instincts, becoming one with her power, Victoria realized that there was danger right behind her.

A massive hulking shape, man formed and with bright white orbs for eyes stood behind her. A giant hand reached for her neck, a hand wearing a white glove.

Before Anderson could rip off Victoria's head like a chicken, the damnable Jezebel lunged forward from his grip.

Anderson charged after Victoria and Victoria fled. She was fast, but Anderson had a much bigger stride. He really didn't have an axe to grind with her, but Anderson was going to murder Victoria anyway. The world would thank him for it.

Except the plan hit a snag.

A bayonet came whizzing out of the woods and stabbed Anderson in the head. The regenerator stopped in shock as one of his own holy blades entered one ear and came out the other, coated in blood.

Anderson halted, because while he had balance organs scattered through his body, his main ones were in his hears; exactly like a human being. Whoever threw that bayonet knew of that particular weakness of his.

Before Victoria could move, someone ran behind her and cut off her legs with a bayonet.

She growled in pain as someone grabbed her by the hair and pressed a bayonet to her throat.

It was Edward, dressed in nothing more than a pair of old sweat pants and looking mad as hell. For once, he looked like a hundred year old vampire instead of a teenager and he was out for blood. "You stay right here, sweetie," he said to her. "Daddy is very angry."

Anderson meanwhile had grabbed the bayonet from his head and was pulling it out. "Whit? Whit?" he couldn't comprehend one of his own weapons being used against him.

Though his balance organs were off, he still had enough reflex skill to use the bayonet he pulled from his skull to block the one coming at him.

Sparks flew as Edward clashed against Anderson. Jumping back, Edward slashed downward.

Anderson wanted to laugh, but Edward didn't miss. A moment later, Anderson's pants fell down around his ankles. Edward had cut his belt, quite deliberately in fact.

He gave Anderson a crooked smile that was full of evil intent. He laughed internally as he saw Anderson try to bend down to grab his pants and cover his white briefs.

"How does it feel, you altar boy raping faggot?" Edward asked Anderson. He ran a finger down the length of the bayonet, creating a few more sparks. "How does it feel to be exposed like that?"

Anderson was furious. "Ah'm nothing like Enrico Maxwell!"

Eh, confession much.

Edward growled at Anderson and then did a "come here" gesture with his finger. "Bring it, priest." To make his point, he waved the bayonet he stole from Anderson. Then he grabbed another bayonet tucked into the band of his sweat pants and threw it at Victoria, who was trying to escape. Victoria gagged as the bayonet went into her mouth and out her eye.

Edward grabbed a third bayonet and went into a fighting stance. He wasn't letting his emotions get in the way of this. He was keeping his cool and actually using his experience against Anderson; utilizing the lessons Jasper and Seras taught him.

Anderson began to recite the bible, causing his regenerator's madness to increase.

"Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name . . ."

He was cut off by growling, but it wasn't the growling of Edward. Instead, Anderson was cut off by the growling of a chainsaw.

The growling of a chainsaw increased, and was joined by a second chainsaw. Confused, Anderson and Edward both spun around trying to locate the source of the chainsaws.

Edward caught the assassin's mind. Whoever it was, they were barely sentient. They were like one of the newborns but older somehow and much angrier. He could see through the assassin's eyes, or eye.

Edward turned towards the assassin before Anderson did. Neither of them were prepared for what they saw next.

The two enemies were suddenly showered by sawdust as the trunk of a mighty tree nearly thirty feet tall was cut down like a dandelion. Anderson and Edward jumped out of the way as the huge tree trunk fell.

Then stepping over the stump of the tree that fell came a leather apron wearing nightmare in high octane glory.

Victoria couldn't believe what she was seeing. From out of the forest came a giant man with muscular arms and large belly. The man was two feet taller than Anderson and a good deal wider.

She used the term man loosely, since this thing wasn't a man in the traditional sense. The nine foot monster was clad in nothing but ragged jean shorts and a blood stained butcher's smock made of leather—probably human leather. The head of the beast was wholly covered in a burlap sack which allowed only one angry eye to peek out. A nose hung around the neck like an ugly version of a businessman's necktie.

Most disturbing of all was that the man's hands were replaced with a pair of massive chainsaws. And judging by the bloodstains on the howling saws, the guy didn't cut wood very often.

Victoria looked up; there on a mountain peak was Schrodinger, out of Edward's telepathic range. He was gesturing for her to move it.

Grabbing her legs, Victoria scooted away.

"NO!" Edward roared and charged Victoria with two stolen bayonets.

The chainsaw man reacted like a coiled spring, cutting Edward in half; the boy's severed parts flew off in separate directions.

Anderson exhaled deeply and deliberately. He held his bayonets tightly; lucky he hid a few spares in the surrounding area in case his other set got broken. "Ah'right, ya fat bastard," he called to the monstrosity with chainsaws.

Chainsaw man was mute; his only reply was to fire up his chainsaw hands and hold them together so that the chains rubbed against each other, creating sparks and a squeal of metal.

"Let's see what ya got!" Anderson charged like a rabid dog.

---

Schrodinger smiled as the Vatican dog charged with Biggy man. Biggy man was Joham's creation; so named because he was the only guy that Joham allowed his daughters to have casual sex with—assuming that "big" wasn't an ironic term. He was the cavalry that Schrodinger sent to Victoria's aid.

As Anderson got a chainsaw through the chest, Schrodinger wondered what it'd be like to fuck a guy with chainsaws for hands.

He thought about it. Hell, he'd do it with Biggy man.

Bella stood in a clearing. Stood was a subjective term because she'd been tied up to a big wooden cross. She was looking like those scarecrows from the planet of the apes, only less scary . . . way less scary.

Her breathing was ragged and unsteady. She'd been feeling fear and stress all day. Since she'd been tied up she'd had no news or contact from anybody. She couldn't hear the battle and she was in the wrong position to see the smoke. It didn't seem fair that the natural area was so beautiful. People were dying out there; there should have at least been some rain or some dramatic music.

Wind blew her hair into her face. All of this was a mistake, it had to be a huge mistake. The worst part of this was that she couldn't tell her dad. If the Volturi found out that Charlie knew the truth, they'd cut Charlie's head off.

In a way, marrying Edward was a lot like marrying into organized crime. Well, if Bella's memory was correct, the wife on the Goodfellas seemed content with her marriage, barring a few cocaine fuelled fights with her husband.

For the first time, her doubts about the future were coming into light. Was that what he marriage would be like; doing cocaine in the morning and grilling Edward to see if he had a mistress.

Bella shook her head; there were just too damn many things to consider. The one thing was that Edward completed her; like the Joker and Batman in The Dark Knight. As sick and twisted as it was, it worked. When she was with him, she felt complete. She didn`t even have to ask if this was happiness; it was beyond happiness.

They`d gone and hurt each other, but there was something between them that most people would never feel.

Bella heard a noise and saw something move into the small clearing. It was Victoria.

Victoria looked at Bella, tied up to a wooden platform, just like the cat boy said. Her face was shocked at first, but then that was supplanted by another emotion . . . glee. The target was here and there was nobody to stop her.

Alexander Anderson flew through the dense woods, his body smashing through the thick trunks of trees, splintering them into shit with his momentum.

At last, he hit a clearing and continued to roll like a log. Shakily he stood up but not before a howling newborn landed on him and started to bite into his back. Screaming in pain, Anderson threw the creature off before it could get to his spine.

He wasn't looking good, his bayonets were broken and he could only replicate broken bayonets now. His clothes were torn almost beyond recognition; only his underwear remained intact.

The whole of his body was covered with hundreds of crescent shaped bite marks which weren't healing due to the deadly Unstet venom blocking the hormones that would trigger regeneration in his body.

He was used to pain, but he was also used to wounds healing in seconds. The priest clenched his fists and growled deep in his chest. The pain would not break him because he had God on his side. When all this was said and done, the godless heathens would drown in their own piss and blood while he'd join God and the angels.

Suddenly, Anderson was overcome by a feeling of physical sickness. He groaned before hunching over and vomiting.

What the fuck was that? He couldn't get food poisoning now! He was in the middle of a fight for his life with no weapons—the most perfect time in his life.

Not stopping to wipe the puke off his mouth, Anderson jumped like a panther onto the newborn with straw coloured hair. On top of this creature, the feeling of sickness intensified, Anderson began to dry heave—that was when the newborn struck.

The creature bit into Anderson's muscular neck, the thick muscle and tendon no match for teeth. AT the same time, the creature was digging its fingers into some of his more painful wounds.

Anderson threw himself back, ripping off a chunk of neck; his honey thick blood preventing him from bleeding out too badly.

Suddenly, a newborn landed on his left shoulder and bit off his left arm. While the straw haired newborn landed on his right shoulder and bit off his right arm. The sense of revulsion came back to him and Anderson fought to keep from vomiting up blood.

Throwing all his willpower into it, Anderson threw off the newborns in a spinning move. Controlling his foot speed like a soccer player, Anderson kicked on newborn in the teeth, knocking its brains out of the back of its head. He did the same for the one who caused that feeling of revulsion in him as if he were drowning in a cess pool.

Anderson didn't have time to rest because at that moment, a washing machine full of water landed on his head. Anderson gasped for breath as his head caused the lid on the washing machine to fly open, a wet, soapy bra wrapped around his head.

As Anderson tried to spit out the sudsy water, Emmett Cullen landed on top of him and began to slam the washing machine lid down on Anderson's head.

"DON'T. YOU. EVER. TOUCH. MY. BROTHER!" Emmett screamed with every slam of the lid, which was rapidly becoming full of dents.

Emmett looked like he was going to snap and break down crying. If he were human his eyes would be red and puffy with tears.

For all his eagerness to fight, he was really a big child, with a child's innocence and child's belief in his own invulnerability. Nothing could have prepared him for the reality of people dying, people killing and what happened to his older brother.

When he was human, you got into a fight with someone; you bloodied each other a bit and then shook hands. You didn't kick them when they were down and eat their testicles. So in Emmett's mind, Anderson was the personification of evil and must die painfully.

Jasper meanwhile had shown up and he too was livid with white hot rage at Anderson for daring to eat his brother's genitals. He was so mad he was beyond words. Instead, he just began to kick Anderson repeatedly in the balls, causing the regenerator to swallow large amounts of soapy water by accident.

"Git-off-meh-ya-fucking-ijits!" Anderson yelled between his drowning in soapy water. On the bright side the soapy water was soothing his wounds.

"Suck it!" Emmett yelled, grabbing a piece of underwear and gagging Anderson with it.

Right at that moment though, a legless Edward came flying through the woods and hit Anderson, knocking Emmett off him and splitting the washing machine in two.

Anderson looked down at the legless vampire with a malicious species of surprise. Out from the woods came charging a new batch of newborns; naked because they'd been dismembered without being burned. On the tails of the newborns was Biggy Man, who has two bayonets in his neck and six in his stomach; but otherwise seemed unhindered by his injuries. His chainsaw hands revved and revved.

Then from out of the blue came the human Zohall Mercer, the only remotely normal person in the area. He was aware of the bad blood between Anderson and virtually any vampire on the planet. He'd heard the stories of what the guy did to a little kid who put on a pair of plastic fangs and hissed at him.

"All of you shut the fuck up!" This seemed to stop the Cullen brothers and Anderson in their tracks; it did not stop the charge of the newborns and Biggy Man.

Zohall looked at all the men around him with bright green eyes. "You happy fuckers will all work together right now or we all die right here." Even with his magic sword and gun, there was only so much that the blond swordsman could do if they didn't fight as one. Plus, the fat bastard with the chainsaw hands was a new factor to the simulation.

Anderson saw the wisdom in Zohall's words. Prayer wasn't going to do shit against twenty newborns and Biggy Man.

Anderson's head began to spin around, like a bird tracking for prey. The thought of working with vampires was driving him insane. Finally, he'd had enough. Without his arms he was nearly powerless.

Literally frothing at the mouth, Anderson bent down until he was almost face to face with legless Edward. "I cannae work wit ye! Ye must sing!"

Before Edward could protest, Anderson screamed in his face. "SING!" The enemy was nearly upon them.

Edward began to sing to Anderson.

Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

Plenty of room at the Hotel California

Any time of year (Any time of year)

You can find it here

Anderson didn't like that music however. "FLOGGING MOLLY!" he screamed.

So with their foes nearly on them, Edward began to sing.

Sail away where no ball and chain

Can keep us from the roarin' waves

Together undivided but forever we'll be free

Halfway through the lyrics, Anderson bit down on Edward's flank and picked him up like a dog with a bone. Anderson charged forward with Edward in his teeth, the regenerator was howling for blood.

Edward felt the pain of Anderson's teeth crushing his flesh, but the pain only gave him strength. If he was going to kill these bastards, he'd have to trust a man who hated his guts more than anything. So he sang loudly as his two brothers and Zohall joined the charge to meet the newborns head on. His topaz eyes were now hot with fury.

So sail away aboard our rig

The moon is full and so are we

We're seven drunken pirates

We're the seven deadly sins

---

Victoria stood smiling at the helpless Bella, only to have Bella pull away from the wooden cross and pull out a handgun.

Victoria's eyebrows raised in surprise. The little whore had actually managed to do something to defend herself.

"Stay back," Bella said with a quaking voice, "I've had it up to here with you." Her emotions were all over the board, not least was the fact that she'd stolen Charlie's gun when he wasn't looking. "Just leave me alone," she said to Victoria in an almost pleading voice.

Victoria just looked at the little human, whose clumsy hands were holding up her father's police gun. She owed the girl an explanation before she died. "You know I can't let you live. You're one who owes me for all the pain I've felt."

She took a step forward; the human fell back, nearly tripping in the process. "Stay away from me," warned Bella, but she was about as threatening as a kitten.

"Are you going to shoot me?" Victoria taunted, "You haven't got the guts."

BANG!

Bella shook as the gun in her hand suddenly felt warm. The noise of the gun going off had startled her, she hadn't even thought about pulling the trigger; it just happened.

Victoria clapped a hand to her cheek. When she lifted her hand, Bella saw a small round hole in her cheek like an unsightly mole.

Almost comically, Victoria spat out a bullet. When she looked up, her expression had twisted into the visage of a horror movie monster. Faster than the eye, Victoria grabbed the gun from Bella's hand and crushed it like Styrofoam; breaking some of Bella's fingers in the process.

The girl cried out. This was part of the plan, but they were cutting it damn close.

"I'm going to kill you, you little slut!" Victoria ground out.

Before she could do that however, a giant brown wolf stepped between Victoria and Bella.

"Jake!" Bella cried out with glee. The beta wolf of the pack had come, according to Carlisle's plan. The idea was to give the illusion that Bella was tied up in order to lure Victoria into a false sense of security, despite her power for recognizing the best escape route.

Victoria looked at Jake with fear, just like the beast which destroyed her entire village.

A second gunshot rang out, but this was the sound of a black powder flintlock. Annoyed at the sting, Victoria felt the back of her neck where the lead ball hit her. It had done no damage whatsoever, but Carlisle just stood there with his smoking flintlock like he held all the cards.

"Surrender or die, Victoria!" he called to her. "This girl is family to us and we don't take that lightly. If you want to live, forget what you saw and move on with your life!"

To make his point clear, Carlisle threw open his coat to reveal that he was covered in flintlock pistols in over a dozen leather holsters across his body. He was like a seventeenth century version of Rambo in that gear.

Victoria looked at the growling wolf and the hostile vampire. She still had one card up her sleeve though.

Bella gaped in shock as right behind Carlisle; a boy appeared out of nowhere, one who had cat's ears. The boy grinned and handled the detonator for the multiple sticks of TNT that were taped to his body.

Carlisle spun around and fired a three of his flintlocks into the boy's head. To Bella's shock, the boy didn't die. Instead, he lurched back and then snapped forward, wounds totally gone as if they'd never been. "Seig Heil!" the boy in Hitler youth uniform shouted before blowing himself and Carlisle up.

The volume of the explosion killed Bella's hearing; the sound of phones ringing was all she could hear as she saw pieces of her future father in law fly past her.

What she saw was a blur. She could see Jake and Victoria fighting like cats and dogs but her weak human eyes couldn't see who was winning or who was losing. She heard a loud doglike whine as for a brief moment, she saw Victoria with her arm run through Jake, blood pouring from the giant exit wound.

Gravely wounded, Jake wasn't about to let this slide. He lunged forward and took off Victoria's right arm even as his intestines were spilling all over the ground.

Shouting in a foreign language, Victoria stomped on the werewolf; shattering his ribs and legs.

"Stop it!" Bella shouted at the top of her lungs, her face burning with the feelings of helplessness. She ran over to Victoria and started bashing on her, injuring her knuckles in the process and making them bleed.

Victoria spun around, invigorated by the smell of blood. She was about to rip open Bella's throat but Jake had a grip on her leg with his teeth.

Bella fell back. Victoria looked like an honest to god monster now. There was nothing human in her sick, red eyed mien. She looked like the devil's wife. Clear, slightly yellowed venom flowed over her chin and her hair waved in the wind like fire.

Victoria had to go now; the Nazi Schrodinger had helped her as far as he could. The wolf was still alive but wounded and she could clearly see Anderson, Edward, Emmett and Jasper charging for her. The human had to die now.

The light brigade consisted of Zohall riding on Jasper's back, Emmett taking the rear and Anderson holding Edward in his teeth. Everyone was screaming for satisfaction. Only Victoria's death would make them happy.

Rosalie, Esme and Alice were finishing off the last of the newborns with the help of the wolf pack. They'd tear the newborns apart but not burn them all yet. Carlisle wanted to give some of them a chance. Besides, with Victoria dead, there would be no need to kill anymore newborns.

Yet Victoria had failed to factor in one last crucial player in the fight.

Her boots hit the ground with faster speed than the human mind could comprehend. Her boobs were huge and her police training had served her well. She fought like a vampire soccer hooligan and she fought for love, justice and the English way. She was Seras Victoria and she was going to save the day.

As Victoria raised her hand to kill Bella, Seras jumped into the air and brought her legs up before her.

With all her might, Seras used both her legs in mid-air to kick Victoria in the crotch as hard as she could. In her crazy Nosferatu mind, Seras could almost hear the sound of bagpipes playing. The bagpipes were the perfect accompaniment to the shattering of Victoria's stone labia and her subsequent scream of agony.

Not done with her foe, Seras grabbed Victoria by her shirt and elbowed her in the face as hard as she could. "That's how it's done in the UK, Vicky!" Then she threw the downed vampire to the allied forces. "She's all yours!" Seras cackled triumphantly.

They wasted no time. Anderson spat out Edward, who took care of business.

Burying his fingers in Victoria's spine, he yanked as hard as he could and tore out not only her spinal column but her skull as well.

Victoria's face came off from her skull, showing the bleached white surface and sticking to her body like a sick rubber mask.

Edward took Victoria's skull/spine and threw it to Jasper, who grabbed it and began to smash it against the mountain, cracking the stones while Emmett used his lighter to start a fire.

Victoria wouldn't see or smell as she brain was smashed into dust along. She expected to see smoke and brimstone but there was none of that. Instead there was a kaleidoscope of images form her life, both from her first and second lives.

Then like Felix the cat, Schrodinger stepped into her pre-death hallucinations.

"Hallo Victoria," the cat boy said with a smile. "You lost," he said with perfect joy. "But do not despair, meine schones frau."

Victoria could only stare at him in this weird limbo of imagery.

"You failed to avenge James, but always remember that nothing is permanent; not even death."

The lad threw a Nazi salute as fire began to consume the image of her life. "Aufweidersing, Frau Victoria! May you find happiness!"

Bella just stood hugging Edward, whose legs were already starting to grow back. Alexander Anderson stood sitting on a rock, his wounds weren't even beginning to heal; there wasn't a place on his body that wasn't injured.

Jasper stood off to the side, trying to keep clear of the rampant emotion. He had to hand it to Anderson though, the regenerator had picked up more wounds in one fight that he did in all the Southern wars.

Emmett threw his tough guy image to the wind and sobbed openly into Rosalie's shoulder. His wife tenderly stroked his hair and assured him that all the bad men were gone and they'd never come back.

Alice was helping her mother Esme pick up the pieces of their wounded father. The normally buoyant Alice looked like she was going to cry; but she kept a fake smile plastered to her face because if she started to lose that smile she'd fall apart completely.

Seras was twitching and irritable. She looked like she was coming down from a drug high. Already she was itching for something else to kill. That and the clouds were starting to clear, which was hurting her skin like fire. She wanted to get into her fucking coffin and drink a pint of blood.

Zohall looked bone weary tired. The mud he'd packed on because he'd watched predator too many times. He tried not to think about how close everything came to falling apart and how lucky they'd been. He couldn't help but think of all the possible ways that they could have all died just now; the eternal optimist Zohall had a pessimistic side to him.

Victoria was dead and the newborns were all in piles of body parts. They'd decide what to do with them when they'd all gathered their wits.

Unfortunately, something else dropped out of the sky on the group. A blonde man with sunglasses and a black business suit; his fine tailored jacket blowing in the wind.

Albert Wesker looked around at the heaps of dismembered newborns with a dispassionate eye. He barely even noticed as his associate Furio dropped a brown haired newborn into the ground before him. There had been some stragglers, Furio liquidated them. He had Bree Tanner brought here alive to serve as an example.

"Good Morning," Wesker said to the Cullens.

---

And that's all folks :D This has got to be one of my longest chapters yet but it was worth it. It's been a while since I've written this story and I hope you guys can forgive the absence ;)

I'd like to cite the wonderful author Blacksand1 for her great story Metal Gear: Regenesis, the fabulous Shallowswan for her great story Twilight Horoscopes: A deathnote Opera; which is the only story crazy enough to combine Twilight, Deathnote and some Hellsing. If you love my work you'll love her story times two.

There are a shit ton of other authors who are as good as or better than me but that would take too long.

Biggy Man is owned by Namco, which created the Splatterhouse game series.

Next chapter Albert Wesker executes Bree Tanner and Integra shows up with Tony Soprano in time for the wedding.

Also stay tuned for my Deadliest Warrior story. I'm doing a back for blood match with zombies :D It's a two parter.