"What has always made a hell on Earth is that man has tried to make it his heaven."
Running through the burning streets of London I couldn't help but think how true that quote was. For a moment the sheer irony of me remembering a quote from some german guy I'd read about made me want to laugh, but the urge died as soon as it occured, crushed by the cruel reality that surrounded me on all sides.
What just minutes before had been a calm evening out with my parents had become a fight for survival. The clear night sky that had allowed us to see the moon and stars was now tainted by the red flames that leapt towards them. Large columns of smoke trailed up towards the heavens standing out against the jet black sky and obscuring any light the celestial bodies may have provided.
I tripped over a fallen piece of what was once a hotel and fell to the ground, the cement sidewalk cutting through my jeans and into my skin. Cursing I pushed myself to my knees casting a quick glance over my shoulder as I rose to my feet. For a moment I was able to see the three zeppelins that had brought about this destruction, ruling the air like a king his court: authoritative, unchallenged, above all and answering to no one.
It was those zeppelins that had brought about the destruction of the capital. They'd appeared from nowhere and had immediately caught everyone's attention, my family included. Some people thought it was some kind of event, an airshow maybe, and that opinion was only encouraged when the zeppelins had fired rockets into the night. With misty tails trailing behind them onlookers cheered on the show shouting their support.
Then the rockets began to hit the city.
The three of us (my mother, father, and I) were walking down the side of the River Thames towards Westminster Bridge when the 'air show' had begun. Like everyone else we'd stopped and watched curiously which meant we'd had a clear, unobstructed view of one of the rockets hitting Big Ben. In a moment the top half of the most famous clock tower in the world was gone. One moment it was there then BOOM, nothing; as if a rogue god had decided to remove it on a passing whim.
For a moment everyone froze, watching through shocked, disbelieving eyes as small bits of rubble and debris fell from hundreds of feet in the air to the ground below. It was as if… if we all waited not moving, not confirming what our eyes saw we would all be able to somehow undo what was happening through sheer united will.
Then the other rockets hit.
Within seconds walls of fire rose into the sky as the other rockets found their targets. Some hit roads sending roaring infernos down the streets turning anyone within them to ash. Others hit landmarks, behind Big Ben what I could see of the House of Parliament exploded outward. A look across the river let me see the Florence Nightingale Museum disappear in an explosion. The force and heat of an explosion behind me alerted me to the fact that what was once the Metropolitan Police Department was gone. One hit Westminster Bridge and despite me and Mom being frozen Dad quickly turned us around, shielding us as small bits of stone peppered his back.
As fire rained down from the heavens and Hell opened its doors to the mortal world people began to realize that this wasn't some nightmare they would awaken from. This was real. As they began to turn and run panicked screams, fearful shouts, and pained yells cut through the air, the chorus for the drama we were all living.
However Dad's voice rose above the hellish choir clear and strong, "Are you two okay? Did either of you get hit anywhere?" he asked as his eyes ran over us searching for any injuries. Both of us shook our heads no and he grabbed us both one hand on each of our shoulders, "Good, now listen carefully. Both of you need to get somewhere safe. Bella you said you had that friend who lived out in the countryside that you played with growing up; whats her name? Irina, Iris, Ilene…"
"Integra," my mother whispered, but her voice was still loud enough for Dad to hear.
"Yeah her," he said, snapping his right hand which he'd taken off my shoulder so he could rub his forehead as he tried to remember. "Both of you go to her. We may have fallen out of touch over the years but she's still a friend of our family. I heard she has connections in the military too; leads some kind of Covert Spec Ops unit. Real special and highly confidential too. If that's true then right now her mansion's probably one of the safest places in the country and it's not that far away from London if I remember right."
As Mom nodded her understanding my eyes remained locked onto my father, taking in his tense muscles, conflicted demeanor, and resigned expression. "You aren't coming, are you?" It wasn't a question so much as a statement, my voice somehow strong and confident betraying none of the terror or fear that I was experiencing.
Turning his gaze to me my dad's eyes betrayed his sadness but his face remained firm, "I have to. This," he said gesturing to the hellscape around us, the throes of people fleeing in terror but with nowhere to go, crushing anyone unfortunate enough to fall down underfoot in their panic to escape the flames, to live. "This isn't an accident, this is an attack. A declaration of war. It's my job to try and help."
Turning my Dad took a stride preparing to run towards the fire and flames before an outstretched hand grabbed his arm. "Wait," my mother begged. Turning my Dad's eyes widened briefly as she pulled him back to press her lips into his in a violent clash of love. "I know you have to go," she said softly, her voice low, "that as much as you want to stay and protect us you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you didn't try and help others. So… just stay safe. For me, please."
Lifting her hand Dad kissed the back of it softly his eyes locked onto hers. "As you command my Sweet Bell." Turning to me Dad grabbed my shoulders as he crouched down his eyes roving over my face as if he was trying to imprint it in his memory. "Take care of your mother," he said, his voice firm "and make sure to listen to her. Use everything I've taught you, and make sure that no matter what happens, no matter what you have to do you come out of this alive. Promise me that you'll live."
"I promise."
Dad nodded and it appeared as if just a little weight was lifted from his shoulders, "Good, good." he muttered as he stood up turning he began to run away from us towards the fire and flames. "Remember," his voice trailed behind him so me and Mom could hear it, carrying over the roar of the flames and screams of the crowd, "no matter what happens I love you both." Then he was gone, swallowed up by the masses.
For a moment Mom and I both stood there our eyes locked onto where he'd disappeared into the crowd as if any moment he would come back to us telling us this was nothing more than one of his jokes. "It's strange," Mom whispered as she clutched my right hand tightly in her left, "no matter how often I see him off, I've always had the feeling that he'd come back to me. To us. But this time, this time I can't help but feel like that was the last time I'll ever see him."
As much as I wanted to tell my Mom that it would be alright, that Dad would come back to us without a scratch I couldn't. In Dad's training he'd driven it into me again and again that you couldn't delude yourself you had to stay in the present and be realistic. Pessimism may not be the best character trait in the world to have but it sure as hell could keep you alive. Right now I had a job to do and I was going to do my best to do it.
Grabbing Mom's hand I led her through the crowd, squeezing, sliding, and moving through any open spaces I could find. Eventually we made our way out of the crowd onto a side street. Although it was littered with bodies dead, alive, and those caught in some state in between it allowed the two of us to catch our breath and recoup amidst a crowd of like minded thinkers. However in my rush to safety I'd forgotten a single detail, if London had become hell it was still missing one key characteristic.
After all, what is hell without demons to torture the damned?
Looking up towards the sky at the zeppelins overhead I couldn't help but gasp, jaw agape. Like angels cast out by God they fell from the heavens with neither parachute nor rocket to slow their descent. Illuminated by the flames that surrounded me they landed softly on the ground. They wore soldiers' uniforms deep gray almost black in color with both a pack on their back and a helmet on their head. Black neck gaiters covered their nose and mouth leaving only their eyes, bright crimson orbs to shine out from the shadows that surrounded them. Tied around their left arm just above the elbow was a red armband inlaid with a white circle on top of which was set a black emblem. One recognizable as a symbol for monsters that had lived half a century prior, a swastika.
In their hands they held outdated weapons, ones that last graced the battlefield decades ago but were now once again seeing use. Despite their antique appearance the guns muzzle screamed death as it was pointed in our direction, and death they wrought.
As bullets flew towards us I pushed my mother to the ground falling on top of her to shield her with my own body. All around us screams of fear rang out although they were silenced by the gurgling of blood, screams of the wounded and dying, all offset by the roar of the demons' guns.
When the gunfire fell away I stood up reaching down to pull my Mom up as well I found myself instead looking into the glassy eyes of death. A single hole slightly off center in her forehead and a thin dribble of blood sliding down her face told me what unfortunate fate had befallen her.
As I opened my mouth to scream a gunshot rang out sending me diving back down to the ground. Once, twice, three times the gun spat death and looking up I found myself facing a police officer, emptying his service weapon at the monster's that had descended from on high.
I could only watch with fascinated horror, the kind you get when you watch a car crash happen right in front of you, as the bullets hit their intended target. The first hit the nearest Nazi in it's right shoulder, the second found his left breast right over where a heart would be, while the third hit home dead center of the things forehead.
However the creature didn't fall down dead. Instead as the officer, other survivors of the assault, and I watched the monster slowly reached up with it's left hand to tear the neck gaiter away from its face granting us all an unobstructed view of his fanged mouth which morphed into a vicious grin as we looked on. Frozen we were shaken out of our stupor by the clinking of three bullets as they were pushed out of the creature, the monster's skin falling to the ground below. The noise of the three bullets striking the ground somehow overcoming the roaring inferno of burning London.
I don't remember much of what happened next; it was mostly a blur. Running away with the crowd, my scream of terror drowned out by the ones that came from those around me. Turning back just in time to see one of the monster's bring it's shovel down in a vicious arc that bisected the police office from shoulder to hip, his face still frozen in shock.
Dodging out of the way of one of the demon's as they leapt down from a rooftop above so it would fall on the person running beside me, sending the pair tumbling to the ground as the human's eyes screamed silent accusations my way knowing what I had done.
Escaping the flow of the crowd only to turn a corner and find one of the demon's sinking his teeth into the throat of a young boy no older than eight or nine; the boy reaching out a hand towards me, eyes pleading for help only for despair to overcome him as I turned away.
My shock as a corpse rose up before my eyes. It's skin sickly and grey as it turned it's violet gaze my way letting out a low groan as it stretched out an arm in my direction.
Eventually by some god forsaken miracle I found myself on the outskirts of the warzone. I was still near central London but the flames were further away from me then they had been before and I hadn't seen a Nazi or reanimated corpse in minutes. My breath came in great big gasps as I struggled to calm myself. All I wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry. My Mom was dead, Dad most likely was too which meant I was now an orphan. I had nothing on me except my clothes, my wallet and phone having fallen out at some point during my escape from what had once been London. I had nothing, no one, I was alone.
However I refused to just sit there and let self pity overcome me. I was Dante Inferno, the son of Virgil and Bella Inferno and I refused to die on the filthy streets of London like a fucking dog.
Standing up I staggered my way to a nearby car. The driver's door was propped open and while the engine was off I was fortunate enough to find the keys in the ignition, likely abandoned by the original owner in his hurry to escape. As I relaxed into the seat my father's words came back to me, 'Integra, go to her. We may have fallen out of touch over the years but she's still a friend of our family. I heard she has connections in the military too; leads some kind of Covert Spec Ops unit. Real special and highly confidential too. If that's true then right now her mansion's probably one of the safest places in the country and it's not that far away from London.'
I didn't know much about Integra, she was just a name brought up on occasion by my parents although I knew that she was named my Godmother when I was born. Vague toddler memories of a tall, dark skinned woman with glasses, long blonde hair, and a smoking habit were all I had to go off of. That and an address I'd seen every year in the Christmas cards my Mom sent out. Thankfully I could still remember the address and where it was at having looked it up once with help of an atlas for fun.
As I pulled away from the curb, lost in memories of a happier time, when Hell remained down below and I still had a family I failed to notice that instead of three zeppelins hovering over London there were now only two. The third one instead flying silently in front of me like a vulture searching for a corpse. The airship's course sharing an eerie similarity to my own.
Author's Note:
Hello everyone, and thank you for reading the first chapter in my Hellsing story. This chapter basically serves as a mix of a prologue, chapter one, and test chapter to see what the reactions are to this story. This story will focus on my oc Dante as he adjusts to being a vampire under Seras in the aftermath of Alucard's *spoiler alert* 'death' *spoiler alert over*. I already have three familiars that Dante will get in the coming chapters one from Millenium and two from the Church although you'll have to guess who for now and wait to see if you're right. I'm considering a fourth but I'll wait till later to decide.
Question time, if you were a vampire who or what would you want as a familiar in the Hellsing verse (no Alucard is not an option). Remember you'll get their memories and special abilities as well. I'd have to lean towards Zorin with her illusions or Rip Van Winkle for her marksmanship and homing bullets. The captain isn't much of a problem if you shoot silver bullets that follows him around until it hits. Schrodinger was an option but I think if you have him you are unable to get other's since you risk losing yourself. Also while he has a broken ability I can still see it potentially being overcome by an enemy which leaves you with only one soul to heal yourself/resurrect yourself with. That certainly doesn't put the odds forever in your favor.
Anyway thanks for reading and make sure to leave a review to this story. I love reading them and reviews are honestly probably one of the reasons I find the strength to keep writing. So make sure to leave one.
That's all so until next time this is the black goo of evil that bestows vampirism on those on the verge of death signing off,
-D'yavol Lucifer 3:)
*IMPORTANT NOTICE*
All the coverart for my stories are ones I found online. I am really interested in using fanart provided by you the readers to replace them. If you're interested draw something up and pm me so I can send you the details on where to send it or pm me and I'll give you some details so you can draw one. As I say in my bio if I use it I may add you as an oc in one of my stories! Isn't that exciting!