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The Council of Thirteen

Book One: The Fifth Lord

The American Dream - Vampire Edition

One-shot

Beta:

It was the dead of night in winter in New York City, yet despite the hour and the cold a pale skinned, blonde haired girl strolled through its famous Central Park. Dressed in a balloon sleeved blouse, romper dress and plain black leggings, the girl was very much underdressed for the weather. That in addition to her being both unescorted and visibly uncaring of this fact made her stand out. Or it would have if there were anyone else besides her in the park at the time to compare her to, for despite the City never sleeping and the Park having at least some patrons at all hours, the girl was thoroughly alone as she wound her way through the snow covered landscape.

"I feel a little bad about taking over the Park like this," the girl mused to herself absently. "But it's not like I have many chances to relax."

Feeling a little peckish, the girl activated her magic and summoned a bag of medical blood from the pocket dimension where she stored things or as some of her subordinates called it her 'hammerspace'.

"Ah~! O+! My favourite," the girl hissed in pleasure as she saw just what blood type the bag she'd randomly summoned contained even as her canines lengthed into fangs. "Bottom's up!"

With that enthusiastic cry, the child-like vampire sank her fangs into the blood bag and with the ease of long practice being drinking from it like a normal child might have from a packet of juice.

As the refreshing blood flowed down her throat, the undead girl took a moment to savour the taste.

Medical blood can never beat fresh blood, but it being O+ makes up for it just a little bit.

That thought brought the vampire up short.

Did I just… Wow! I really have changed, huh?

After all, there was a time, not so long ago, in her undead life when she was repulsed by the consumption of blood at all!

Then again I guess that's expected. The vampire mused. I mean that was a whole other life ago.

Flashback

The vampire Seras Victoria, youngest childe of the infamous Dracula, upon disembarking from her plane at John F. Kennedy International Airport immediately made a beeline for the nearest restroom and rushed into the nearest stall therein. Once safely ensconced within and having locked the door, she tossed the small duffle bag that contained the sum of her worldly belongings to the ground and stripped. Even as she disrobed, she called upon one of the myriad of new powers she had developed after having drunk her sire's blood at the Tower of London. In response, her body shifted causing her to lose almost half her height with her limbs shrinking proportionally whilst her ample breasts disappeared, and her hair grew out of its flare cut and into long flowing locks till that reached her ankles. Gone was the appearance of the Police Girl of Hellsing and in its place was the guise of the eternal child vampire known as Helena with which Seras had briefly been acquainted.

"No, that's not right." The vampire said to herself as her shape change was complete and she pulled out the girl's panties, simple dress, leggings and Mary Janes that she'd bought before leaving London. "I'm not Seras Victoria anymore."

Even as she said the words whilst slipping on the panties, she could not help how deeply they cut into her soul. But as much as they hurt, they were true. They had to be.

In the wake of her Master Alucard's, the moniker her Sire had adopted whilst in service as a slave to the Hellsing family that protected Britain from vampire since his defeat by Abraham Van Helsing, battle with the enigmatic magic wielding vampire known as Incognito and the destruction it had caused throughout London, the Hellsing Organization had been blamed for everything. It was thus no surprise when it had been disbanded, effectively kicking Seras as one of its few surviving members to the curb. Between her getting branded as a threat by the British government-

Not that I can blame them after all the mayhem. The vampire thought as she pulled on her leggings. Not after Master's fight leveled a good third of London! Of course, they'd see his childe as a threat.

Especially since she had been freed from her bond to Master Alucard by dint of the portion of his blood she'd drunk when she had thought him dead being revitalized when he'd resurrected, she could see where they were coming from.

An unbound childe of the legendary Dracula himself running around London? Especially one with intimate knowledge on the country's anti-vampire countermeasures? Even I can acknowledge that I was a threat they could not abide.

Though that realization did little to appease the deep seated bitterness that pervaded her being. After all, how much of a threat was she really considering the resources the government had its disposal?

Power in the form of people like the surprisingly young magician with dark blue hair, snow white skin, and large gray eyes underneath his rectangular glasses. He was probably the only reason that the existence of the supernatural had not become public knowledge in the wake of what the government had taken to calling the Tower of London Incident. Thanks entirely to his liberal use of memory manipulation magic, the secret had been kept.

But that's not all he did… The vampire thought as she shuddered.

The magician had not participated in the fight directly, but Seras had seen him defending much of London's civilian population during the chaotic battle in the city during its course and the power he'd displayed whilst doing so set her on edge.

I dearly hope I never have to cross paths with him ever again. The vampire said as she put on her dress.

It was to get away from him and the British government that she'd fled across the Atlantic after scooping up a small baggie of soil that she kept on her person and allowed her to forgo a coffin as she flew economy class. It had left her little more than a corpse as they flew over the ocean but at least it didn't kill her. Thankfully, a little hypnotism had helped keep people from panicking at her condition. Honestly, her planning for her escape impressed even herself especially since she'd cooked it up all in a rush and on the run from British agents, which thankfully did not include that terrifying magician. Sadly, besides running across the pond like a coward and changing her identity Seras had no plan.

"No, not Seras." The girl affirmed as she tossed her old clothes into her duffle. "I'm Helena now. I can't forget that."

That done, the newly minted Helena unlocked the stall she'd been using and stepped out into the bathroom. She was greeted by a sight that would've had most shrieking in indignation for standing directly in front of her stall by the sinks was a old man with a long white beard and bushy eyebrows, dressed in a pointed hat, robes and cloak that were all a blinding white in color.

"That took you longer than I expected," the man said with an amused grin. "I was honestly wondering how long I had to keep up the wards keeping this bathroom empty."

He is emitting no scent and his presence is strange too. Helena noted with a frown. Like he isn't really here...

"What do you want magician?" Helena asked warily, tensing for a fight. "Did the British send you?"

I hope not. Helena prayed to anything that might hear her, even if she was fairly sure she'd been forsaken but any and all gods. I don't want to die.

"Hardly," the man said with a chuckle. "I am the Twelfth Lord of the Council of Thirteen and I am here to welcome you to our ranks as the new Fifth Lord, Helena, childe of Dracula."

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

The blasted old man just smiled mischievously and refused to explain, choosing instead to blather on as if he hadn't heard her.

"Your predecessor is dead and pardon me for mangling the saying but 'The Lord is dead! Long live the Lord!'"

With that the blasted Gandalf wannabe offered Helena a bow and vanished, leaving behind a thoroughly confused vampire.

Flashback end

"I really should have tried to figure out what the Twelfth meant back then," Helena mused with a chuckle as she finished her blood bag and used one of the many powers she'd acquired from her victims over the years to reduce it to ash. "It would've saved me so much trouble later on."

Then again it was not like she really had the luxury to do so at the time. Stuck in a new city halfway across the world from everything she'd ever known, with little money and in the body of a child just finding a place to stay the night had been tough.

"Thank you hypnosis!" Helena cheered as she recalled just how she'd finally managed to secure lodging that first night in New York.

Flashback

"Thank you hypnosis," Helena whispered gratefully as the door to the hotel room she'd managed to book for the night with the last of her money and a healthy dose of her admittedly limited skill in her newly awakened power of hypnotism. There was no way that the staff at any hotel, ones that she could stomach living in without being tempted to kill everyone there that is, would rent out a room to what appeared to be a child without it.

With all the hassle this form has been giving me, maybe I should choose another? Helena considered as she went through the motions of settling into her suite. But I don't want to… I want something of Helena to remain even if it is just someone imitating her name and form.

Helena had not known the original child vampire long but her deceased namesake had certainly left quite the impression on the young Draculina. Besides, it was not like many other options came to mind. Sure, she could randomly pick an appearance and name but that just didn't feel right. So for all the trouble her childlike appearance brought with it, she would keep it. For now at least.

Helena had just finished putting the duffle bag containing her rather limited worldly possessions away in the room's closet when she felt the presence of four Midians, three of which were quite powerful, walking up to her door.

"Fifth Lord," a cultured man's voice called out from the outside. "We would like an audience."

Fifth Lord? Isn't that what that old man at the airport called me? Helena thought with a frown. I have no idea what that means but maybe I can leverage that somehow.

"And who is this 'we' exactly?" Helena shot back even as she mustered the power that had been awakened in her being by her drinking of her sire's blood, causing a pair of feathered wings made out of a mixture of shadows and her own blood to burst from her shoulders.

Those outside might not seem hostile, but she was taking no chances.

"We mean no harm, Fifth Lord!" An feminine voice cried out in alarm, presumably in response to Helena priming her powers.

"And you expect me to just believe that?" Helena scoffed.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" A new male voice said with exasperation. "Do you three know the first thing about diplomacy? Or, I dunno, just being polite."

"Be silent, spectre." A second female voice said, sounding peeved. "Know your place."

"Oh, I know what that is alright." The apparent ghost said dismissively. "I am the elected representative of the unaffiliated Midians of New York City, or at least those that bothered to vote, and I'm here, Fifth Lord, alongside these three self-important jerks to have a chat with you as some of the leaders of the city's largest Midian groups."

And what would leaders of the city's supernaturals want with me? Helena thought with a frown. They keep calling me the Fifth Lord, does that have something to do with it?

"What about?" Helena asked bluntly.

"We would be happy to explain, my lady." The woman who had reprimanded the ghost earlier replied. "But perhaps we could do that inside your hotel room rather than through its door?"

Helena considered the matter. On the one hand, she was very wary of just letting four unknown Midians into her hotel room. On the other hand, she was also intensely curious about what they wanted with her.

It's not like I can't escape if things do go south. Helena thought as her curiosity got the better of her. Her thoughts weren't empty bravado either. As powerful as three of the other Midians outside were, Helena was a master vampire sired by Dracula himself and was by virtue of that alone one of the most powerful Nosferatu in the world. She was thus fully confident of being able to hold her own against these supposed leaders of the New York supernatural underworld should the need arise.

That said, there is no reason not to be cautious.

"Very well," Helena agreed as she used some telekinesis to unlock her door but without dispelling her wings. "You may enter."

The fact that she had not dismissed the physical manifestation of her power did not go unnoticed by her guests, considering the wings were rather massive and filled up a good portion of the room they were kinda hard to miss, but besides a few nervous glances at them they gave no sign and filed into the rather small and now rather cramped hotel room.

Well mostly.

"Nice wings," the ghost said with an appreciative whistle as he walked in last and politely closed the door behind him. "I'm totally digging the fallen angel theme it gives you."

Helena couldn't help it, she chuckled at the compliment. The first she'd received for her wings. The only other reactions she'd had from them having been horror. Though considering that they had come from British agents who she'd tried to stop her and that they had given them when she'd forced to use her new appendages to maim them while she made her escape out of the country, perhaps that wasn't a surprise.

"The name's Jackson Willis," the ghost, a semi-transparent African American man dressed up like a jogger, introduced himself. His form bore a slight similarity to the projection of the old man at the airport but where that had felt hollow to her senses, Willis' presence was very much there. She could sense his life, or perhaps unlife would be more accurate.

Nodding in greeting, Helena turned to the vampiress standing next to the ghost.

She was a short but busty woman that had long, curly black hair that reached her waist, dark brown eyes and pale skin. She had a slender but curvy build that did nothing to hide how muscular she was even through the obscuring layers of the Victorian style dress she wore. She radiated power but there was a fragility to it, giving Helena the impression that it had been stretched to its limit and was a hair's breadth from unraveling.

"Carmilla," the other Nosferatu introduced herself with a curtsy. "I am the leader of the Veteres, the oldest vampire coven in the city."

I wonder, is she the Carmilla of legend? If what I sense is right, she's old enough to be. Then again she might've just decided to take on the name in homage to the iconic female vampire. After all, we Nosferatu are hardly bound to the names of our birth. Something I myself can attest to.

"Louis De Saint-Pierre," the man standing next to Carmilla said with a courtly bow. He was a vampire, but not of a type that Helena was familiar with. The differences were slight but she could sense that unlike Carmilla and herself, he was no Nosferatu. Nevertheless he still possessed the inhuman beauty that so characterised most, if not all, vampires as demonstrated by how absurdly handsome the man looked in his well tailored suit with chin-length black hair, brilliant green eyes, and perfect physique. All this despite the unnatural tone of his skin.

It's so pale! Helena couldn't help but think. She couldn't help it. Even for a vampire to have skin the color of bleached bone was just plain odd! Maybe it's a characteristic of his breed. I'm hardly an expert on the myriad breeds of our kind, but I do vaguely recall certain types of vampires having odd skin.

His skin was not the only contrasting thing that set Louis apart either. To Helena's preternatural senses he struck a strong contrast with Carmilla. Where her power felt old and almost stale, his was relatively young. Less tempered definitely but giving off a vibrancy that the other vampiress lacked. It thus took no great effort on Helena's part to deduce that he was a much younger vampire.

"And I represent the various-"

"The various middle-aged covens," the last of Helena's guests said with an annoyed growl. "Can we get this show on the road already?"

Saint-Pierre frowned but nodded at the attractive blonde dressed in a stereotypical biker's outfit complete with plenty of leather and who radiated a feral intensity.

"Good," the woman who reeked of the smell of wolf said with a roll of her eyes. "Delphine Von Sydow at your service, Fifth Lord. I'm the daughter of the leaders of the city's largest werewolf pack. I speak for them and the majority of the werekin of the city."

"I am honoured to have such august guests," Helena said, warily. "But what do you want with me?"

"We want you to use your authority and power as Fifth Lord to reestablish order in the city, that's what." Von Sydow said with a look of incredulity. "Considering who you are and the state things are in, what else could we want?"

Helena blinked in confusion at that.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

The two vampires exchanged looks at that and the werewolf gaped. Thankfully, Willis spoke up with something helpful. Again.

"So you don't know what's going on?"

Helena shook her head.

"You must know that your predecessor as Fifth Lord is dead at least, right?"

"A magician informed me of his death and my appointment shortly after my arrival in the city, yes." Helena admitted. "But I sadly have no understanding of what being this Fifth Lord even means."

Von Sydow began cursing at this. In German, if Helena was correct. Her two vampiric guests meanwhile both paled, a great feat for Saint-Pierre in the Draculina's opinion considering how pale he already was. To her relief, Willis once more managed to keep things going.

"That's a surprise and not." He said with a tired sigh. "Usually the Lords at least know what they're getting into when they gain the mantle but if the stories I've heard about you are even half true then I guess you wouldn't have had the chance to learn."

Helena narrowed her eyes at the ghost for his insinuation that he knew who she really was even as one of her wings angled towards his direction menacingly.

"Don't give me that look, Miss Victoria." He said, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. "The first childe of Dracula in centuries? Of course, you're bloody famous!"

The Draculina's first instinct at having her identity found out was to kill the ghost and flee but she ruthlessly squashed it. If what the ghost said was true then who she was would be an open secret. Reacting violently to it would be foolish.

"Helena," she said through gritted teeth instead. "That is the name I have chosen to go by."

"Lady Helena," the ghost agreed with a nod. "So, um, would you like me to explain-"

"We don't have time for this," the werewolf said as she suddenly leapt at Helena, her hands transforming into claws.

The childe of Dracula's wings were moving even before the lycan's feet left the ground. In two swift blurs, the masses of blood and shadow shot through the air and cut both of the werewolves' arms off and impaled her to the wall. An action that left both of the other vampires reeling in shock.

Willis on the other hand just chuckled.

"Guess she deserves being Fifth Lord, eh?" He said tauntingly to the badly wounded werewolf. "You're not replacing her that easily, wolf."

"I take it that the mantle passes to another if I die," Helena concluded as she withdrew her wings, though she left a spike of shadow matter to keep the unconscious but already regenerating Von Sydow pinned to the wall.

"Yup, and little ol' Delphine thought you weren't worthy and wanted to kill you so someone who was could take your place."

"Foolish of her," Carmilla said, shooting the humbled werewolf a disdainful look. "She should know that one chose by the magic of the Council of Thirteen would be no weakling."

"Indeed," Saint-Pierre agreed. "Failing that, she should at least have remembered what it means for a vampire to be of the bloodline of Dracula."

"Enough," Helena said tiredly. "I've been kept in the dark long enough. Someone mind explaining what the hell is going on?"

The two New York vampires exchanged a look as if trying to decide who to speak, but were saved the trouble when Willis beat them both to the punch.

"The Fifth Lord, you, are part of the Council of Thirteen aka the de facto rulers of the magical/supernatural world. The Council consists of thirteen chosen magicians as selected by an ancient compact that includes most of Earth's various magical communities. It was created by the leaders of thirteen broad factions of magicians who fought an apocalyptic war long ago that saw them almost destroy the world. The Council's sworn duty is to prevent something similar from happening either by them or someone else."

"Oh joy," Helena said with dismay. "So I've become the magical equivalent of the world police?"

"I wouldn't put it that way," Willis said with a chuckle. "But yeah, pretty much."

"The position is not without its benefits." Carmilla said, cutting in. "The Council is the most powerful grouping of magicians in the world and as the ghost said, the one largely recognized as the highest magical authority."

"And how exactly was I, of all people, chosen to be one of their number?"

"Each seat has some loose parameters," Saint-Pierre said, taking up the explanation before the other two could. "But they are often freely interpreted by the Twelfth Lord when he makes his selection, except for the Thirteenth which is hereditary and who is designed to be his counter. The First Lord is always the most powerful magician on the planet and accepts the post, and nominal leader of the Council. And your seat, the Fifth, is reserved for the most powerful free Midian."

Guess the "free" part is why Master isn't the Fifth Lord.

"I suppose I have no choice in whether I want to accept being this Fifth Lord?" Helena said with a tired sigh.

"The mantle once passed cannot be abdicated except through death." Carmilla told her with a surprisingly sympathetic shake of her head.

Helena felt like crying at finding herself in such a ridiculous situation. Two things stopped her though. First was her utter unwillingness to appear weak to these people and second, and more importantly, was that sadly this was nothing new to her. Ever since she'd seen her parents killed in front of her eyes when she was just a little girl, life had seen fit to throw her into one ridiculous situation after another. It was thus with the same grim determination that had allowed her to overcome all the previous madness of her life that allowed her to keep her cool now.

"And you lot want me to use my fancy title to help you with something?"

"Yes," Carmilla said with a nod. "As we said at the beginning of this audience, the city, or at least it's supernatural underworld, is in chaos. Your predecessor used New York as his seat of power and his presence here kept the peace. With his death however things have devolved into anarchy as various groups, usually made up of the younger, more reckless of their kind, jockey for power."

"And why, pray tell, are your factions not doing the same?"

"My constituency just wants to be left alone," Willis said with a shrug.

"As for the rest of us, we are simply not so foolishly shortsighted as the upstarts." Saint-Pierre said with a dismissive gesture as he mentioned the warring factions. "The years of peace your predecessor imposed allowed us to prosper like never before, but now thanks to a few fools all of that prosperity is threatened. And now only the new Fifth Lord, you Lady Helena, can restore the peace."

"And what exactly do I get out of this?" Helena asked with a raised eyebrow.

She was tempted to help, she really was. The idea of a war among New York's supernaturals sounded like a recipe for a multitude of civilian casualties and as much as she'd changed since she'd been transformed into a Master Nosferatu by drinking her Master's blood, she was still enough of the foolish young police girl that he'd first turned to wish to do everything in her power to reduce the loss of innocent lives. However, she had needs of her own and if she could get some of those met whilst simultaneously doing the former, all the better.

"If you successfully assist us in restoring order to the city, my lady." Carmilla said with a seriousness that reminded Helena of Sir Integra. "Then the Midians of New York will serve you as loyally as we served your predecessor."

Considering you let whoever that was die and then started fighting amongst yourselves almost immediately, I think that's worth practically nothing.

Something of her thoughts must've been on display because Willis sighed and offered a much more sensible offer.

"If you do it, we'll buy your room, board, and whatever expense you might have at the very least." The ghost said, rolling his eyes at Carmilla and Saint-Pierre. "I'm sure you'd rather not have to worry about things like that if you don't have to."

The other two vampires looked offended by the very suggestion, possibly thinking that their offer of loyalty was more substantial.

Sadly for them Helena was all too happy to shatter that delusion.

"Now that's a deal I can appreciate," the Draculina said with a grin.

Flashback end

"I was such a naive fool," Helena said with a shake of her head as she skipped through the park. "To have agreed to their request so easily."

She probably would have agreed either way. She really needed the support that they offered her but she should have at least asked some questions. Especially about the enemies that she would have to face in order to do what they requested.

"I am just glad it all worked out though," Helena said with a sigh.

Not that it went easily even if Jackson had done his best to help.

Flashback

"Anything you can tell me, Mr. Willis?" Helena asked, as she and the ghost stood across the street from a rundown old apartment building that was the headquarters belonging to one of the rogue groups that the New York Midian leaders wanted her to deal with. The third and last stop of their hunt for the night.

"They're a bunch of vampires," the black man replied with a shrug. "Of a breed called Van-Tals that are actually extra-dimensional demons that possess human corpses. They have the general physical superpowers associated with you bloodsuckers, though generally mid-tier in terms of strength, but usually none of the esoteric ones."

"Usually?" Helena said, shooting the specter an inquiring look.

"Yeah, they have a talent for magic. Most don't live long enough to learn much, they are really disliked by other Midians."

"So those that do survive are likely to be powerful magicians?" Helena concluded with a frown and suppressed a shiver as she recalled the young magician that had so terrified her during the Tower of London Incident.

"Unfortunately," Willis nodded. "Like this group for example, they're masters of blood magic."

At least what he said matches with what I learned from the memories I've gathered tonight. Helena mused. Not that I doubt him. He's been entirely truthful so far.

"Cliche much," Helena said with a snort, letting none of her thoughts show.

"Cliches have to come from somewhere," Willis said with a shrug.

"True," Helena allowed. "So, anything else I should know before I go in?"

Willis shook her head apologetically.

"Apologies, Lady Helena, but nope. That's all I know."

Helena sighed in dismay but nevertheless began walking towards the target building.

"Stay here, Mr. Willis." she said over her shoulder. "Leave the rest to me."

"This is the new Fifth Lord?" A brute of a bleached blond man dressed in a long leather trench coat over an ill fitting suit said as Helena walked into the lobby of the Van-Tals' base to find dozens of them waiting for her. "A little girl."

Helena was unsurprised at the fact that her enemies seemed to be expecting her. She had not done anything to hide her walk across the street and short though it was, it was more than enough for a bunch of vampires to set up the welcome they seemed to have settled on.

Nor did she bother dignifying the Van-Tals' apparent leader's taunt, instead summoning her wings and sending them cutting through the air, decapitating at least a dozen of their number causing their headless bodies to crumble into dust.

Her actions seemed to speak louder than any words would've though and the leader flinched back in shock, before shouting in a panicked voice.

"Kill her! Kill her, you idiots!"

At his command, at least half of the Van-Tals leapt at her with their hands stretched out ready to rip her apart with their preternaturally sharp fingernails. The other half instead choosing to call upon the blood magic that Willis had informed her this group of vampires were known for, pulling the sanguine liquid out from their very bodies and sending it flying at her in the form of a variety of projectiles.

Is this really all they're capable of? Helena thought with disappointment as she swept her wings through the lobby easily deflecting the bloody projectiles whilst reducing the majority of the Van-Tals into dust. They moved so fast as they did so that the wings appeared as little more than blurs to even Helena's superhuman eyes. Thankfully, her perception was hardly limited by sight alone.

"T-That all you can do?" The Van-Tal asked shakily as he pushed aside a dusting corpse of one of his subordinates he'd used as a shield to protect himself from Helena's attack. "What Lord of the Thirteen are you to have to rely on brute force!?"

I guess he's not wrong. Helena conceded. I guess if I am taking on this mantle as a magic lord then I should really use some magic. Besides, I really don't want to clear out this building the old fashioned way.

As she made her decision, her shadow lengthened unnaturally and from its depths dozens of figures, vampires, werekin and a mix of various Midians, began to emerge. These were her familiars, the embodiments of the souls of the fallen souls that she had consumed. Once upon a time she would have balked at consuming anyone, but after seeing some of the atrocities that those she had defeated were party to as she had drunk their blood, and even if she refused to admit it the memories she'd inherited from her sire as well, she had long since let go of such qualms. Though she was still somewhat uneasy when drinking from humans, she was thankfully not yet put in a situation where that was necessary and hopefully never would. Securing a stable supply of fresh human blood from willing donors would be one of the things she would demand in exchange for ending the war in the New York underworld.

"Shit," the Van-Tal leader cried out in dismay as he eyed the army of familiars that Helena had summoned and turned to flee.

"Kill them all. Make sure none escape," Helena told her familiars rather unnecessarily. Being essentially extensions of herself, they already knew her intent but she was feeling dramatic. "But leave him to me. I want to have some fun with him."

Dutifully nodding at her command, the army of familiars surged through the building to follow her orders as she herself stalked after the Van-Tal leader.

As she walked through the building, she was surrounded by the sound of a massacre. Magic and various Midian powers flew everywhere as her familiars dealt with the Van-Tals. Many of whom had already lost the will to fight and were openly begging for their unlives but Helena and by extension her familiars were unwilling to give them any. Whilst the memories of the familiars she'd acquired through her culling tonight had little information on the Van-Tals, they were generally regarded as being below notice, but what little she knew painted them as unforgivable.

It did not take long at all for Helena to catch up with her victim. The Van-Tal leader had just bashed open the door of the building's roof access when Helena used her magic to step out of a shadow directly in front of the lesser vampire.

"Time to end this," Helena said with a smirk.

"I won't die so easily!" The demonic vampire shouted as he threw his hands forward, sending a brace of lances made out of his blood at the Draculina.

Only to hit empty air.

For in the instant where he launched his attack, Helena teleported directly in front of him.

"Game over," Helena declared as she leapt onto the other vampire with her mouth stretching unnaturally wide and her teeth transformed into razor sharp fangs as befitting a predator which she proceeded to use to bite down on his neck.

"N-Not like this," the Van-Tal said as he fell to his knees.

Helena ignored him, still latched onto his neck like a limpet and gorging on his blood even as her prey's body began to collapse into dust.

Flashback end

"Though killing all those rogues wasn't without benefit," Helena said as she channeled some of the magic she had gained from defeating some of her opponents to her hand, making it glow.

"But maybe I should've chosen to just ignore the call of the others and stayed in New York. All that travelling was super tiring!"

Shortly after imposing order in New York City, Midian leaders from across the Americas had begun approaching her to do the same for their territories. She had been heady on the power she'd gained from consuming those she'd defeated and in the authority she'd accrued doing so and agreed. This set a precedent that led to her spending the next ten years travelling all over the twin continents and imposing order even as the task grew ever more tiresome.

"Wish it didn't involve so much killing. Though at least it did bring peace to the American supernatural underworld. Hell, it even allowed me to help Alucard and Integra deal with those Millenium crazies down in Argentina. I hadn't expected to be able to do that. Not after everything."

Flashback

"Letting me in despite my coming uninvited? How welcoming." Helena said tauntingly in German as she stepped into the large hangar at the heart of the base of the so-called Millennium Organization that she had come to destroy.

"You are the Fifth Lord and the soon-to-be ruler of all Midians of the Americas, it is only right for us to be welcoming." A short, plump man with oddly styled blond hair, golden eyes and dressed impeccably in an expensive white suit with a long matching overcoat, white gloves, glasses, and a black tie with a red gem on it replied in accented English with a malicious smirk.

"And what a welcome it is." Helena noted with a roll of her eyes at the neatly arrayed ranks of vampires armed and garbed with World War II era Nazi weapons and uniforms, led by a few more unique individuals that included a pair of werekin whilst easily switching back to her native tongue. "Your full force just to face me? You do realize that I am just a little girl, right?"

A group of humans led by what her knowledge of Nazi rank insignias told her was a Colonel began taunting her but Helena ignored them, keeping her eyes on the real leader here as the man began to radiate amusement.

"Oh, quiet already Colonel." The plump man said at last. "It's obvious Ms. Victoria knows just who is in charge here."

"Major! How dare you speak to me in that way! That's insubordination!" The Colonel bristled, his fellows following suit.

Helena and the Major ignored them.

"I do not go by that name anymore," Helena told the blonde who had styled his hair so a longer section coming up and then down again in the front left side of his face, like a folded piece of paper.

"Oh, I am aware." The Major replied, his grin growing even more broad. "But you are our arch nemesis, Alucard's, childe and thus to us having renounced that name or not, you forever will be Seras Victoria, Draculina, childe of Dracula."

Helena's eyes narrowed even as they began to glow with power in response to her anger at not so much being reminded her of her origins but at the insinuation that they were her Master's enemies.

"Alucard might no longer be my Master," Helena said as she began to call on her power. "But any of his enemies are still mine."

"As I expected," the Major said with a disappointed shake of his head. "It is a wonder how that monster can inspire such loyalty in others."

"You wouldn't understand," Helena spat as she recalled how despite his gruff, strange personality her Master had done his best to acclimatize her to her unlife in his own way and more importantly had given her a purpose for it as well. However fleeting that purpose had lasted.

"On that we agree," the Major nodded. "But enough talk, let us bring this little show to its climax shall we? Letzte Bataillon der angriff (Last Battalion charge)!"

At his command, his army of followers launched themselves at Helena. Unfazed, she simply called on her own army. From the abundant shadows of the hangar stepped out her familiars. They more than matched the Nazis in numbers and definitely so in terms of ability. Each of the familiars Helena had summoned had been powerful Midians before she'd consumed them and they retained much of their power even after having been reduced to her thralls.

As such it was with laughable ease that they tore the bulk of Millennium's forces to pieces. Sometimes quite literally. After all, what was simple superhuman speed, strength and mere conventional weapons against beasts who could wield the elements through magic or their innate powers or to ancient monsters whose mere presence could distort reality. In the face of that the common soldier of the much dreaded Letzte Bataillon was little more than a nuisance.

The less said about the Colonel and his human fellows the better. They had tried to flee the moment the fighting started and had been massacred in the crossfire as an afterthought by both sides.

The only ones that were even worthy of note amongst Millennium's were their officers, or at least Helena presumed they were such, as they proved themselves just a little more troublesome than their subordinates.

There was a tall and lanky vampiress with glowing blue eyes and freckled cheeks, long blue tinted black hair that reached down to her knees that wielded a long-barreled flintlock musket which fired magic bullets that streaked through the air in unnatural patterns as they homed in on her targets. It was an impressive ability to be honest but it lacked stopping power as proven when Helena simply sent a troll at her. Helena had relied on liberal use of fire magic when she'd taken down the beast that had previously been menacing a small town in Washington state but the Nazi vampiress had no such tool at her disposal and what she had was woefully inadequate. Her magic bullets tore huge chunks out of the troll's body with each hit but the familiar simply regenerated from the injury without so much as breaking its stride. Thus the increasingly panicked blue haired vampire was helpless as the troll closed the distance and picked her up before proceeding to eat her alive, adding her soul to Helena's ever growing mengeraire.

Another vampire, this time a tall and thin man with green eyes, light silver hair, and a thin brown mustache that was dressed in a brown suit, vest, and wide-brimmed fedora with a blue tie wielded razor-sharp playing cards that he controlled with telepathy. They managed to cut a whole squad of Helena's familiars apart and blew up another as they revealed their explosive potential. Like the musket wielder it was impressive but again nowhere near a threat. All Helena had needed to neutralize him was send a Mind Flayer, one of most prized familiars, at him, against the extradimensional abomination's far superior psionic might, the vampire was helpless and she happily had her familiar suck his soul and brains out.

The last of the impressive Millenium officers was a tall, massively muscled female vampire who had one side of her body covered with tattoos and swung around a giant scythe. Most notably she was able to create illusions, seemingly facilitated by the third eye of her right palm. Illusions that were able to even disorientate a handful of Helena's familiars. Not that the minor victory helped the brute much as Helena had simply deployed her own master illusionist against her. The Nazi vampiress might be powerful but she had nothing against the centuries old vampire that was the Fifth Lord's familiar. Killing him had been a pain and involved a lot of self-harm to break through the grip of his illusions as well as a healthy reliance on what psionics she'd acquired by that time but consuming his soul and adding his magic to her arsenal had made it worth it. Something that was made obvious by the almost trivial way his illusions overpowered the Nazi's and broke her mind, leaving her defenseless as he moved in to drain her blood and soul.

Even as the bloody battle was taking place all around them, Helena stood unaffected across from the simply unfazed Major, a human dressed in a bloodstained white lab coat, an unusual shirt which revealed his lower torso, and glasses with an assortment of adjustable, multi lensed spectacles, and two werekin.

"You aren't bothering to join the fight?" Helena asked curiously.

"I would rather not," the Major said with a frown as he watched his forces being slaughtered. "But it seems I have underestimated you and have no choice. Warrant Officer Schrödinger! Do it!"

"Yes sir!" The catboy said happily as he proceeded to disappear and reappear on a catwalk over where Helena's familiars were ripping apart and then draining his comrades. Without hesitation, he slit his throat before throwing his dying body directly into the path of one of Helena's familiars.

Acting on pure feral instinct, one of her familiars, a half transformed werebear, grabbed hold of the body and began to drain it.

"Was that supposed to do something?" Helena asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Wait for it," the Doctor said with a smirk even as Helena suddenly felt a strange sense of lethargy begin to overcome her, causing her and all her familiars to slow but surely freeze.

"W-What is this?" Helena said as she raised her arms only to see that they were turning invisible against her will. No, not invisible. They were literally fading from existence.

"The Warrant Officer's ability can be summed up as 'I think, therefore I am.'" The lone surviving human in the hangar said with a victorious smirk. "He is everywhere and nowhere at once with his existence maintained only for as long as he is aware of himself. Now that you've gained that power can you, the conglomerate of innumerable souls, say the same? Do you have enough sense of self to maintain your being?"

"It would appear not," the Major said, the smirking grin he'd maintained throughout the encounter taking on a victorious edge as Helena's form and those of her army of familiars faded out of existence.

For a moment there was utter silence in the Millennium base as its survivors surveyed what appeared to be the sight of their costly victory. Their enemy had been defeated yes, but most of their number were dead.

"This is a costly setback," the Major declared with a sigh. "But no matter, we will just have to rebu-"

Before he could finish his sentence however an unnatural chill descended over them.

"Was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich stärker. (That which does not kill me makes me stronger.)" The voice of the supposedly defeated Draculina echoed into the Nazis' very souls, as she reappeared where she had just disappeared this time sporting a pair of massive avian wings growing from her back made of blood and magic, giving her the appearance of some kind of fallen angel.

"Impossible!" The human cried out in shock. "Schrödinger should have defeated her! His ability was designed to defeat Alucard, surely it can defeat his childe!"

"That was the purpose of creating that creature?" Helena blinked as she processed the memories from the catboy and confirmed the Doctor's - Seriously that's the name he goes by? Really!? - ravings. "Huh? I didn't know that. Well, I'm glad that I was of help to Sir Integra and Alucard even after leaving their service, I guess."

"Don't be so cavalier about invalidating one of my greatest masterpieces!"

"If it's any consolation, it would likely be super effective against Master but unfortunately for you I am not him. Unlike Master who has been empowered over the years by Hellsing through the consumption of mainly vampires and the other odd Midian, my diet has been much more diverse. Most importantly, it included magic users including masters of soul and time magic." Helena said with a shrug. "Using their knowledge I have long crushed all the souls of those I've consumed, destroying them while retaining their skills. Without that, the effect of your little weapon's power was greatly reduced. Add in a little temporal magic and I negated it entirely quickly enough."

"That's, that's-" The Doctor sputtered indignantly but by this point everyone else there was ignoring him. The Letzte Bataillon survivors were trying to escape and finding Helena's newly resummoned familiars waiting for them and the man's fellow leaders were too focused on her to give him any attention.

"Impressive," the Major said, clapping in sincere applause. "We truly have underestimated you."

"And I you," Helena replied with genuine respect of her own. "You might be repugnant Nazi scum but I never expected you to have something like that at your disposal. Thank you for giving me the chance to field test that particular combination of my magic."

"It is our honour," the Major said with a playful bow.

Their banter was cut short when suddenly the werewolf with snow white hair, bloody red eyes, and somewhat tanned skin who stood silently to the Major's side throughout everything stepped forward.

"You wish to face her Captain?" The Major asked in surprise.

The werewolf just nodded.

"You know you can't beat me, right?" Helena asked the man curiously, receiving a nod in reply. "Yet you still want to fight?"

Again the man nodded and pulled off the greatcoat that he was wearing, revealed his muscular build and fell into a ready stance.

"This is suicide then?" Helena asked, feeling honestly a little sad.

"An honorable death," the Major corrected. "Honorable death at the hands of a worthy foe. One the Captain has been seeking for decades."

Helena nodded as she flew into the air with a powerful beat of her wings, thus evading the Captain's supernaturally quick charge during the course of which sliver hair sprouted all over his body and a white mist in the shape of a massive wolf began to surround his body adding to the range of his attack.

"That mist isn't the ability of a normal werewolf," Helena noted. Not even the oldest of the Von Sydows back in New York had such a power. There was only one type of lycanthrope with such an ability. "You are a progenitor aren't you?"

The mute werewolf just nodded at her before launching himself into the air in an acrobatic leap that saw him spinning through the air and aiming a kick her way.

"Foolish," Helena critiqued even as she easily evaded the kick and the extension of mist that trailed from his outstretched limb that served to lengthen the reach of his attack. "You do realize my wings allow me to fly, right? Did you expect such an attack to actually hit me?"

The werewolf just smirked and thrust his hands out at her, sending mistform claws shooting towards her.

"Not good enough," Helena scoffed as she casually summoned a magic circle in front of her that functioned as a barrier to block the attack even as she used it to gather her magical power for an attack of her own. "You'd at least need to use something of this caliber to harm me."

With this taunting statement, she unleashed the spell she'd been casting and sent a powerful beam of magical energy shooting out of the magic circle that proceeded to utterly engulf her opponent. Even as it erased the werewolf from existence, Helena could not help the frown on her face.

At the end there, he was smiling. She noted with dismay.

Her reflection was cut short by the sound of laughter and she turned to see the Major laughing uproariously.

"T-The absurdity of it all!" He bellowed in between bouts of full bodied guffaws. "Despite all my best efforts, all my dreams are crumbling. All I wanted was one last grand war in which to die and to kill that monster Alucard! To be deprived of both! The world is beyond cruel."

"Sometimes effort is not enough." Helena told him with surprising sympathy as she landed just in front of the man. "Like you said, the world is a cruel place."

She had barely said her piece when the man tried to shoot her with a pistol and missed.

"How can you miss!? I'm standing less than six feet in front of you!" Helena cried out incredulously, even as she let parts of her shadow creep forward like tentacles and wrap around the man.

"I've always been a bad shot." The man admitted with a shrug. "Now enough games. Kill me."

"Gladly," Helena said with a smirk as she let her shadows tear the man to pieces, showering the area with viscera and unexpectedly chunks of machinery.

"Huh, so he was a cyborg? Didn't know that." Helena commented as she surveyed the Nazi's remains. She'd sensed he wasn't quite human but until now had not realised exactly what he was.

Even as she did, she noticed the Doctor try to discreetly make his escape, running towards one of the zeppelins that dominated the hangar.

Helena let him, curious to see where he was heading. Thus she waited till he had a decent head start before following.

He led her to a lab at the center of which was an ornate coffin.

Teleporting into the lab through the shadows, she appeared beside the coffin and ran a hand over the inscription on the coffin lid whilst shooting the scientist a look of scorn.

"Mina Harker. So that is how you created your vampires." Helena said as she glared at the man. "Maybe it was foolish of me, but I am honestly surprised that you would abuse a dead woman like this."

"How else can could I create my mas-"

"Oh shut up!" Helena said, using her shadows to cut the demented scientist in half. "I have no interest in hearing your pathetic justifications."

Turning away from the fresh corpse, Helena swallowed the coffin in her shadows fully intent on giving the poor Mina Harker the final rest she deserved.

Flashback end

"Putting that poor woman to rest was almost as nice as finishing that Nazi remnant." Helena confessed as she recalled the small unmarked grave where she laid Mina Harker to rest hopefully for good this time. "When it is my time to finally meet my end, I hope I get the peace I offered her. It would be a nice change of pace from all the bloody work that I've been doing lately!"

And there was a metric ton of it! Who knew establishing an organization to maintain the order she'd imposed on the squabbling Midians of the Americas would require so much effort. Then again if it had been easy she supposed that someone would've already created something like her United Clans and Packs ages ago.

The only reason I managed is thanks to all the administrative and bureaucratic knowledge I've learned from my many victims. Helena mused with amusement. Who knew that it would be important?

Her quiet night reminiscing was suddenly interrupted when her preternatural senses detected a threat and she spun in the direction where she sensed fighting. The two werewolves standing a good distance away and serving as her guards for the day immediately tensed and spun in the direction as well. Their preparedness did not save them however as two gunshots barked and ended them.

Helena tried to save them, sending her shadows to shield them but much to her dismay, the blessed silver bullets shot through her hastily conjured barriers like they weren't even there.

"Who dares!?" Helena roared in anger as she blurred out of the way of a shot fired her way.

"That'll be us," A 6'1", muscular, green eyed man with light freckles on his face and short-cropped dark blonde hair said as he stepped out of the woods wielding a replica Colt Paterson 1836 ball and cap gun modified to fire metallic cartridges. On the barrel of the gun was inscribed a Latin quote from Psalm XXIII:4, "non timebo mala (I will fear no evil)" and on its grip was a carving of a pentagram.

"Dean, stop being dramatic and just kill the vampire!" A taller man with shaggy brown hair with light green eyes, a muscular build with broad shoulders and a muscular chest said as he fired a shot from the shotgun he was using, unleashing a burst of blessed sliver shot in Helena's direction that she evaded.

"Oh, let me have some fun Sam!"

"The Winchester brothers!" Helena hissed in anger as she recognized her attackers as her predecessor's killers, a pair of Hunter brothers named Dean and Sam Winchester. "Why are you attacking me? I've brought peace to the Americas!"

"You're still a bloodsucker," Dean said as he fired a shot from his weapon that Helena evaded despite having been herded into it by another shot courtesy of his brother. "And all your kind deserve is a return to the grave."

"Bigoted idiot," Helena said as she gave up on reasoning with the Hunters and decided to go on the offensive.

Transforming into a bolt of shadows, she shot towards at them. With superhuman speed, Sam tried to force her back with a shot from his shotgun but Helena just jerked out of the way of the pellets and continued closing the distance. Dean tried taking a shot too, but had a similar lack of success as his brother and within moments she was returning into her human form inches from him with her hands transformed into claws, ready to tear his throat out.

Before she could carry out though, she found herself caught in a powerful telekinetic grip.

"What!?" Helena hissed in confusion as she turned her eyes, the only thing she could freely move, to the source of the unexpected intervention.

Standing a short distance behind the two brothers and amidst a rapidly fading invisibility spell was a little girl with long brunette hair and blue eyes dressed in a very feminine dress. Her outstretched hands glowed with green magic as she maintained the telekinetic hold on Helena.

"Good job, Dawn." Dean said with a smirk as he raised his weapon to Helena's head. "Time to die, vampire."

"Not if I can help it!" Carmilla shouted as she teleported out of a shadow and lunged towards the little witch that was holding Helena in place. She wasn't alone if Helena's senses were correct as she sensed Saint-Pierre and the Von Sydows were also rapidly coming to the rescue.

"Same to you." Sam replied as in a burst of supernatural speed, he appeared behind the girl and fired off a shot from his shotgun forcing Helena's fellow Nosferatu back. "Dean, shoot the bitch!"

Without replying, Dean pulled the trigger.

The bullet, enchanted somehow beyond just the standard blessing on it and its sliver nature, blew the majority of Helena's head off and sent her flying back as the witch released her telekinetic grip. It seemed to literally attempt to sever her ties to the world and exile her to the afterlife. It was frankly an incredibly deadly ability and would kill most beings. However, Helena was not most beings. Thanks to a certain catboy she happened to already have a rather nebulous connection with the world. So cutting her from the world was useless.

"That hurt," Helena complained as she pulled herself to her feet and her wound regenerated.

"Impossible!" Dean cried out in shock.

"Believe it," Helena growled as she went on the attack.

In a blur of speed, she tried to use his claws to rip him open but in a burst of green light the little witch teleported directly in front of the man and conjured a powerful barrier.

"You won't hurt Dean," the girl shouted back defiantly as Helena's claws scratched against the barrier harmlessly.

"Who are you?" Helena asked with honest curiosity as she leapt back as from behind the safety of the barrier, Dean holstered his magical Colt and instead drew the shotgun that he had strapped across his back and fired off a shot.

"Dawn, stay out of this." Dean said as he walked through the barrier with a determined gleam in his eyes. "Leave this to me and Sam."

"But-"

"No 'but's," the man barked as he fired off another shot at Helena.

Helena distractedly evaded it as she took a moment to survey the situation and noticed that the attack consisted of not just the Winchesters but a large group of Hunters as well, who were now holding her reinforcements back just like Sam was doing the same for Carmilla.

"This has gone on long enough," Helena decided as she finally decided to get serious.

Calling on her power, her wings emerged and hundreds of magic circles in a multitude of colors filled the sky behind her.

"Magicis Pluviam (Magical Rain)!" Helena incanted, releasing the power of her spell and sending hundreds of magical projectiles at her opponents.

The little witch tried to protect them, conjuring a set of barriers over herself and the Winchesters. They held for a full minute under Helena's barrage, a surprisingly long amount of time in the Lord of the Thirteen's opinion, but it nevertheless eventually collapsed.

The attack did not kill the Hunters though. That had not been Helena's intent. For what they had done, she wanted to make their judgement a little more fitting.

"You will pay for your indiscriminate killing, Winchesters." Helena declared ominously as she landed in front of the incapitated Dean.

To her surprise, unlike the two men who were knocked unconscious by her attack, the little witch was not only still conscious but standing defiantly in front of Dean.

Maybe I can use this. Hmm...

"I won't let you hurt them," the girl said determinedly as she gathered her magic, surrounding herself in an aura of green power.

"Admirable, little girl." Helena told the witch. "But you are no match for me. Stand aside. I have no quarrel with you."

"I know I can't beat you," the witch agreed. "But I still won't let you hurt Dean and Sam."

Helena girl's unexpected action was potentially useful in getting what she wanted, but it nevertheless inspired a question: What in the world did the Winchesters do to inspire such loyalty?

She was about to ask the girl exactly that question when a startled cry from Carmilla had both of them spinning in her direction.

"Danger!" The ancient Nosferatu cried out in alarm as she evaded a magical bolt that was sent flying her way from what looked like a mob of incoming vampires.

"Friends of yours?" The witch asked as she raised a barrier to protect the Winchesters from the new attackers.

"No and I doubt they are yours either." Helena shot back as she returned fire with a barrage of magic bolts of her own. "Truce?"

"Truce," the girl agreed.

"Carmilla, bring the other Winchester here." Helena ordered as she watched in satisfaction as a number of her latest attackers got destroyed by her barrage.

"Yes, Lady Helena." The older Nosferatu said with clear reluctance even as she obeyed and picked up the unconscious Hunter she'd previously been fighting and blurred over behind the witch's barrier.

"You know who this coven is?" Helena asked the ancient as they both hunkered behind the witch's barrier and she continued exchanging spellfire with them. "I don't recognise them."

"Unfortunately," Carmilla admitted with a tired sigh. "As you can tell they are a coven of vampiric witches. Their coven serves the Outsider known as the Mistress of the Witch's House. They have chafed under the peace you've established, my lady, but I never thought-"

"That they'll openly attack me?" Helena asked as she sent a particularly powerful energy blast that scattered the enemy. "It seems they were merely waiting for an opportunity."

"Are you two done talking?" The witch asked, irritated. "Can we end these cultists already?"

"Apologies, little one." Helena said with a smirk, amused by the image of her calling the child such with her own childlike appearance.

The girl did not share her amusement though if the rolling of her eyes was any indication.

That just amused Helena even more though she did not let that distract her from finishing off the annoying vampiric witches.

"Harkonnen Mark II," Helena cast, conjuring dozens of magic circles behind her back from which 30 mm, single-shot breech loader cannons forged from shadow stuff in the image of the trusty weapon that Walter had given her during her time at Hellsing emerged. "Fire!"

The dozens of cannons barked, sending a rain of shells of shadow stuff flying at the attacking vampires and exploding into orbs of destruction upon reaching their ranks that literally erased everything caught within their radius.

"Good shot, my lady." Carmilla praised.

"Yeah, but there's still a few of them left." The witch critiqued.

"Uh'eog ot r'luhhnythog's wgah'nagl! ymg' mggoka'ai humble nyth'drn's plea ng h' ahuaaah vulgtmor l' mgulnah forth ymg' throdog nyth'drnn l' ymg' ah'mgehye mghrii! (Mistress of the Witch's House! Hear your humble servant's plea and use her sacrifice to send forth your great servants to destroy your foes!)" One of the handful of surviving attackers cried out desperately as she ripped her own heart out and crushed it.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the little witch said as she took a step back in horror at the sight.

She was right to feel uneasy as even as the caster's body crumbled to dust, her soul was consumed by whatever spell she had used her very unlife to cast and in a brillant kaleidoscopic burst of light deposited an army consisting of literally thousands of animated dolls armed with magical weapons.

"An army of a Outsider's servants," Carmilla hissed in alarm. "Lady Helena, this fight just got significantly more difficult."

"Yes, I know." Helena agreed as she sensed the otherworldly power that radiated from the dolls as she summoned her own army of familiars from the shadows. "At least they seem ready to give us some time to prepare."

"You just had to jinx us, didn't you?" The witch cursed as almost as if in response to Helena's statement, the dolls finally leapt to life and launched into the attack.

What followed was a chaotic melee. Helena's familiars met the dolls head on, tearing the figurines apart through the use of brute strength and the variety of abilities and magic available to them. In exchange, the dolls used their weapons enchanted with otherworldly power to dispel her familiars by the dozens. The losses appeared at first glance to be roughly equal. Unfortunately, the Outsider's servants, by whatever strange magic that empowered them, quickly repaired whatever damage they sustained and rejoined the fight. This meant that even despite the reinforcements led by Saint-Pierre and the Von Sydows finally breaking through the containment of the Hunters and joining the fight, things were going badly.

"We need to sever these dolls' links to this world." Helena observed.

"Lucky you that I happen to have something that can do just that, huh?" Dean Winchester said as he groggily pushed himself back to his feet.

"You're willing to work with us then?" Helena asked, eyeing the man warily.

"Call it payback for not hurting Dawn when you got the chance," the man said squeezing the little witch's shoulder comfortingly causing the girl to smile brilliantly. "Just tell me where I need to shoot."

Helena nodded and called on all the observational magic available to her to survey the increasingly chaotic battlefield to locate the link that kept the dolls tied to this world. Much to her relief it seemed like rather than each having an individual connection, the various dolls were instead all tied to each other in a web with a central node from which they all originated.

"There. The tiny one with the red hair." Helena declared, pointed at a particularly small doll that was flitting across the battlefield avoiding combat.

"Damn. That's a tough shot. Especially in this mess."

"Yeah," the newly awake Sam Winchester said as he stumbled back onto his feet. "Lady Helena, mind clearing things up a little to create a clear shot."

"Gladly," Helena said with a nod. "Carmilla, make sure our allies are out of the way."

"Understood," the ancient agreed as she blurred away spreading the word amongst their forces.

As her subordinates withdrew from the fighting around the target doll, their places replaced by Helena's familiars so as to prevent the dolls from consolidating their forces. It was obvious that they were up to something but the dolls seemed to lack the intelligence to note this and did not respond, simply continuing their single minded attack on Helena's forces.

That just makes things easier for me. Helena noted as she conjured a single replica of her old Harkonnen from the shadows at her command and charged up a powerful attack.

"Eat this, you creepy puppets!" Helena shouted even as she pulled the trigger and fired a beam of raw shadow. For a moment, the entire world seemed to lose all color as the beam ate away at everything in its path, disintegrating the hundreds of the dolls and the dozens of Helena's familiars that had been fighting them.

"Take the shot! Now!" Helena commanded the Winchester with the Colt as color returned to the world and the dolls began to rebuild themselves, starting with the lead doll.

Dean Winchester needed no prompting however and even as she spoke, he was already drawing a bead on his target. Even as the redhead doll's legs finished reforming and it made to run, the enchanted bullet of the Hunter's weapon slammed into its body shattering the ceramic that made it up and much more importantly severing the connection it used to maintain the foreign presence of itself and the rest of the doll army.

A link that now broken, caused the entire army of porcelain terrors to spontaneously drop to the ground motionless and begin to crumble away into dust.

"A fitting end for bad rubbish," Helena noted with satisfaction before she turned her attention to the two Winchesters and their magical ward. "As for you three-"

"How about you let us walk away in exchange for the help we just gave you in dealing with those pesky marionettes?" The taller of the brothers suggested even as he clutched his shotgun in a white knuckled grip and looked warily over the army of Midians that now surrounded his family. Hopefully Helena's recalling of her familiars calmed his nerves somewhat because she really didn't want things between them to devolve into hostilities again.

"Considering their presence in our world can be traced back to your actions, that does not seem fair at all." Saint-Pierre said as he walked over alongside Carmilla, both of whose clothes were looking unnaturally pristine considering the intense fight they'd just been engaged in.

Just how vain can they get? Taking the time and effort to make themselves look good even after something like this? Helena couldn't help but think as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her subordinates.

"Hey! We weren't the ones who summoned those things!"

"No, but your attack on Lady Helena was what precipitated the series of events that led to it." Carmilla shot back.

"Enough," the little witch surprised everyone by shouting. "We can stay here arguing on who's to blame all night and get nowhere. It's obvious Lady Helena doesn't want us dead even though we attacked her. If she did, she would have ordered our deaths already. So let's skip past all the nonsense and get to what we need to do for her to let us go."

"I like this girl," Delphine said as she sauntered over, Willis floating over by her side. "By the way, we got the last stragglers of those Outsider cultists, my lady. They won't be causing us trouble in the future."

"Thank you Delphine, Willis." Helena told her lieutenants with a nod. "And I agree with you. This little witch is most impressive."

"Yeah, I know I am." The girl said with a roll of her eyes. "Can we move on already?"

"Dawn-" The younger of the Winchester brothers began, but a raised hand from Helena silenced him.

"It's quite alright." Helena said, an amused grin spread across her face. "The girl is right. Let us not waste anymore time. Winchesters!"

All three of the people in front of her, even the girl who Helena knew for a fact was no Winchester, at least not by blood, tensed and subtly moved in front of each other as if trying to shield the others from her attention. A protective action that greatly amused her.

"My terms for your safe departure tonight are simple." Helena said, her amusement clear in her voice. "I want you, each of you, to make a promise to me that you will stop your indiscriminate hunting of us Midians."

"Indiscriminate?" Sam asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

"There will always be rogues," Helena admitted with a sad sigh. "Our natures makes it all too easy for us Midians, especially the young ones still on a power high, to cross the lines. Even with me and my organization working to minimize that, there will always be those that slip through the cracks. Those that do, you are free to hunt."

"And if we hunt one that hasn't?" Dean asked, his arm twitching in a clear sign that he was resisting the urge to bring the Colt to bear and start shooting.

"Then I will have you captured, launch an investigation as to whether the killing was justified and if it wasn't, kill you as befit a murderer."

"And if it was?" The impressive little witch asked, her eyes shining with a confidence that any killings they did would always fit this category.

"Then I'll let you go." Helena said with a shrug. "I am a fair woman."

The three Hunters exchanged looks. Or more accurately, Sam and Dawn glared at Dean to make him agree. It took a full seconds but eventually the oldest of the Winchesters released an explosive sigh before nodding.

"You have a deal, vampire." Dean said, offering his left hand.

It did not escape Helena's notice that his right still firmly held onto the Colt but she ignored the implicit threat and extended her own left hand to accept the handshake.

"Then we have a bargain," Helena declared as they shook hands, sealing the compact.

"Was just letting them go like that a good idea, Lady Helena?" Willis asked, as they watched the three Hunters walk off a few moments later. "They did just try to kill you."

"Yes, and if that was all they did then I would have finished them." Helena said with a nod. "But when the need arose for us to work together, they willingly did so."

"And the fact that you didn't want to orphan that little witch had nothing to do with it, my lady?" Delphine asked coyly.

"I won't deny that it factored into my thinking," Helena admitted easily. "But that alone would not have swayed my decision."

"Then what truly did?" Saint-Pierre asked, clearly curious. "Surely the fact they assisted us in dealing with those Outsider's servants wasn't enough."

"No, but it provided a nice little excuse." Helena said with the smile of someone whose cunning little plan was coming together nicely. "Killing such high profile Hunters like the Winchesters would likely have incensed the Hunter community and stirred them into open war with us. That is a complication we do not need. Better to avoid it if possible."

"Am I to take it that you entered battle with the Winchesters with the intention to spare them?" Carmilla asked, her eyes wide in a rare show of shock.

"Not quite," Helena said with a shake of her head. "But by the time that I had them at my mercy? Yes, by then I had calmed down enough to be actively looking for a way to avoid having to kill them. That the outcome has allowed me to propose the beginnings of a truce with the Hunters in general is just a bonus."

"You truly do know how to make the best out of any situation, you know that, my lady?" Willis said with an appreciative whistle.

"I try my best," Helena replied, offering the ghost a playful curtsy that earned a chuckle from the man.

"Now, it's almost sunrise." Helena noted as she looked off to the east. "Can I trust you four to make sure that everything is cleaned up?"

"We'll take care of it." Delphine promised. "Go rest for the day, my lady."

Offering a grateful nod of thanks to her subordinates, Helena teleported back to her home intent on getting a good day's sleep.

Materializing outside her home, a rooftop shed that thanks to her spatial magic actually held an entire mansion in its interior, Helena was annoyed to find a projection of the Twelfth Lord waiting for her just outside her front door in all his Gandalfesque glory.

"Did you arrange for the Winchesters' attack on me, Twelfth?" Helena accused, her eyes glowing with malicious power in response to her churning anger.

"No, that was the doing of the Outsider cultists. Though I was aware of it and of their own plans to exploit the Hunters' attack to launch one of their own." He admitted.

"And you did nothing?" The vampire hissed, the rooftop's shadows writhing in agitation in tune with her feelings.

"You are secure in your powerbase now, aren't you?" The Twelfth Lord asked with a shrug of his projection. "What better way to show that than to have you face your predecessor's killers and kill some lingering dissenters at the same time?"

"Your games cost good men their lives." Helena hissed.

"Lives they willingly gave to try to protect the woman they served." The Twelfth Lord reminded her.

"That does not change the fact that they would not have died if you hadn't-"

"Enough," the Twelfth Lord said with a dismissive shrug. "You are not in a mood for a proper discussion I see. I shall take my leave for now and we can talk again later. Good night, Fifth Lord."

With that the damnable creature disappeared, leaving Helena to stew in her anger alone. If she was just a few years younger she might've given in to her anger by venting it through some property damage but she was old enough to be beyond that now. Instead, despite still seething with rage she simply walked into her home. She would get back at the Twelfth for this one day and when she did it would be glorious!

After all, long awaited revenge tended to be.

Whilst Helena retired for the night angry, in a plane far away from hers another woman was pondering the night's events with a decidedly different mindset. Instead of being angry at how it had played out, Ellen, Mistress of the Witch's House, sat in her office in the eponymous pocket reality and reviewed the death of her cultists with fascination.

She had few followers outside of the inhabitants of the House so the demise of even a few of them had been enough to warrant an investigation on her part. But what had really caught her interest was who had killed her ill fated worshippers.

A Lord of the Council of Thirteen? I wonder… The Outsider in the shape of a purple haired and golden eyed woman pondered with an intrigued grin as she used her powers to delve into the history of this interesting group.

Hours later, Viola, the Witch's Wife, stepped into Ellen's office and frowned as she saw said spouse hunched over the crystal ball she used for her scrying with an enthralled look on her face.

"Ellen, it's time for dinner." The Outsider in the shape of a green eyed blonde woman said in exasperation.

"Is it? Sorry, love, it seems I got a little distracted." The purple haired Outsider said sheepishly as she looked up from her crystal ball.

"I can see that," Viola noted with a roll of her eyes. "What is so interesting that's got you so intrigued?"

"This, Viola. This!" Ellen said, gesturing at the crystal ball excitedly.

"What do you mean?" Viola asked as she looked at the images in the artifact and not seeing what had so enthralled her wife.

"It's an opportunity, Viola. A rare opportunity."

"An opportunity for what?" Viola asks curiously.

"An opportunity to expand our ranks."

So this is my new project. Hope people like it. It's a lot more experimental than my previous work. By that I mean, I am trying out new things that I usually don't play around with too much. As a result, quality might be a little lacking. But as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. Thus if I want to improve my writing I have to try new things. Do let me know how I am doing with a review if you are so inclined.

That said, I do have some things to say about reviews. This might come across as a little antagonistic but after the reviews and PMs I got on my last fic I think some warning about my thoughts on the matter is necessary, especially when they almost drove me to stop writing independently altogether.

First, before you drop a review please note that by the time this fic is published the whole story will have been written so barring relatively minor edits I will not be willingly to go back and rewrite stuff. And the scope of what I am willing to change is entirely up to my discretion.

Second, this is my story. This means that the story develops in the way I want, not what you as a reader might want. In my last fic, I had too many people who wanted me to write their version of my story and made demands of such in the reviews or via PMs. This includes concerns about pacing, because let me be clear. The pacing chosen is deliberate on my part. It is designed to allow me to produce the story I want to cover in a timely manner. I single out pacing because it's likely going to be a point of contention for readers since in this fic I am being experimental in its pacing by attempting a collection of short stories/one shots tied together by an overarching plot. Would certain elements of the story benefit from more room to breathe than I allow them? Certainly. But my decision to not do so is a conscious choice. It might be detrimental to the overall story to gloss it over, but I am willing to live with it as in my opinion it is the price of allowing me to write this story at all. Besides, this fic is mainly designed to be an entry point to this fusion universe within which I might choose to return in the future (e.g. writing fics about some of the battles Helena fought to gain some of the familiars she used in this fic) so of course certain elements will be more glossed over. If you want to see something in a fic? Go write one yourself!

Third, my word is the law within the context of this story. I can't repeat this enough but this is my story. If I think something is justifiably explained then it is. You jolly well have a rock solid convincing argument to get me to change my opinion, if not don't expect me to bend over to accommodate your view of things. If there's a plothole, I'll fix it as best as possible by crafting a justifiable reason even if it's flimsy. So long as I think it's good enough, then it is.

Lastly, if you're going to use a review to call me, my story or my characters names then don't bother. Same for any other content-less flames. For FFN, many of these types are made by guests in my experience, so as such will be deleted. If you have an account and leave such a review, nine times out of ten I will just ignore you. For AO3, comments are moderated so I'll just delete anything I can't stand. And if you're wondering what counts as such, it can be as mild as calling my fic a crackfic without any justification to something as vile like calling my character a prostitute, implying I am a pedo, etc. And no, I am not exaggerating when it comes to the name calling, those were just some of what I have encountered. So if you're inclined to do something like this, please just don't.

So yeah, angry rant over. Back to our normal programming now.

There's not much to say to be honest. Just one clarification I guess. Namely that yes, Helena's version of the Harkonnen II is most definitely not the same as the one in Hellsing canon. Considering that she left Hellsing and England before it makes its appearance if we follow the Ultimate/Manga canon and this version of Seras follows the original anime continuity where it does not even exist, I think it is safe to reuse the name. After all, as implied in the fic she does have a fondness for the original weapon and thus having her use it to inspire one of her spells which she subsequently names after it just makes sense.

Okay, that's all I think needs be said. So till next time. Farewell!