In all of my years of experience, one thing has remained consistent; vampires get stronger in media, and weaker in real life. In fact, you, reading this currently, if you've ever killed someone, chances are they were a vampire. I've divided vampires into three categories to help you understand this shift; the Premees, Pre-Flood vampires who were basically JoJo's Bizarre Adventure characters; Boomers, vampires who spawned after the flood, and occasionally spawned a gem or two, such as myself, and Millennials, everything that came after the Fall of Dracula. These "Millennials" are the weakest of all vampires, as they got the least share of DNA. A decent shot from a copper-coated bullet will put them out of their misery with ease.
-excerpt from The Vampire Journals
Chapter 1: The Assignment
The camera panned towards the cave, closer and closer, revealing its darkness in full 4K HD. The stalactites hanging off the ceiling were visible in the most detailed form, with crisp shots of water dropping off of them and onto stalagmites. The camera panned deeper and deeper into the darkness, trudging on past the eeriness and shallow sounds of water dripping.
Suddenly, a raccoon lunged from the darkness, sailing over the camera, and the camera toppled over as the sound of screams arose from behind.
"And that's why National Geographic won't make Planet Earth 2", Alucard said as he swapped the tabs back to Count Dankula. Whilst listening to the beautiful sounds of the melodic trashcan accent of the Nazi Commie Scot, he swapped tabs to catgirl hentai.
He was, in the most unholy of ways, bored out of his mind. After figuring out that the Nazi's were behind all of the vampire attacks, and had totally ruined his vacation to Brazil, he had wanted a "Thank you", or at least a, "That wasn't horrible", or even the most legendary, "You were right! It was the Nazi's!", from Integra, purely for the orgasmic high he would have received upon hearing such words, but so far, not even a peep out of her about it, and it had already been a week. So, in the interest of exercising his most-used muscle, he was forced to resort to traditional methods.
Not saying that those methods were horrible by any means. Women were either too rough or too gentle with him, and men only seemed to have an interest in his ass. He knew all of the right strokes and positions to make everything much more pleasurable for himself.
He was about to go ham on his piggy when the door to the basement burst open, and a cute woman with short, messy blond hair that had been tied into a pony tail, thick thighs and massive cans came flying down the stairs. Alucard barely had time to swap tabs back to National Geographic Fails before the well-rounded individual was in his personal space. He turned his swivel chair to face her, his face showing a large grin of sparkly white and incredibly sharp teeth.
"Police Girl! How many times do I have to tell you to knock before it gets stuck in your head?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Master, were you in the middle of something", Seras Victoria, affectionately known as Big Titty Police Girl, Apprentice, or That One Over There, asked him with a childlike sense of curiosity and wonder that she somehow had yet to lose in this entirely new world she had been shown.
"Maybe", Alucard responded.
The computer screamed out, "Onii-chan diskee!", and Alucard reached down to mute it.
Seras' head flickered briefly towards the computer with a frown on her face and question marks forming in her eyes.
"So", Alucard said, "did you burst in here for a reason or do you just enjoy ruining my alone time?"
"Oh, yes", Seras said, a sense of purpose flooding over her features, returning the smile that had briefly disappeared. "Sir Integra requests your presence immediately!"
"Of course she does", Alucard said with a sigh, and stood up from his swivel chair.
He straightened his crimson suit jacket, and pressed the power button on the computer. One time, he had forgotten to do that, and now poor old Walter was addicted to trap porn. Or so Alucard liked to think.
He walked up the long stairway, still stained with blood from What's-His-Face's absurd attempt to infiltrate Helsing Manor... that had almost succeeded. At the top of those stairs, he took a right, and began the long journey down to Sir Integra's office. Alucard didn't think of her as Sir Integra unless there was company around, but while Seras was still in the unofficial "probation" stage of training, he had to constantly assert that she was the big boss, as per her request. Not that she needed much help with doing that, he thought.
As he trudged down the hall, Seras trotted up behind him, and kept pace at around a two-foot distance. The two of them made for a stark contrast, him being clad almost head to toe in crimson and gray garb, epic hat and crimson tinted sunglasses, with she in her short shorts and official Helsing uniform with rolled-up sleeves behind him, he with his large nose and black hair, she with her cute button nose and blond hair, he with his bright red eyes, and she with her bright blue ones, he with his chiseled, hairy chest and-
His thoughts were cut off by the sound of boots scuffing next to him. He swiveled his eyes to see a freshly purchased mercenary stepping around him. The new guys seemed to give him a wide berth, which wasn't unusual, seeing as how the old guys had, too, before they had been massacred by the ghoul army that had invaded their manor. It seemed most people gave him this berth nowadays, which, ironically, would have bothered him in his early life. In his early life, he was a hero to the people, and whenever he had ridden his horse through the cobblestone streets or across the beaten dirt paths of Wallachia, children had ripped away from their fathers' grasps to run behind him, shouting his name and proclaiming him their friend, brother, and savior.
He shook himself from such thoughts. That had been the fifteenth century. This was the twenty first. Time to focus on the present.
He boldly pushed forward, until he reached a large wooden door, which he ripped open without a second thought.
"Yellow", he yelled as Integra closed her laptop.
She scowled at him from behind her desk, asking, "Haven't you heard of knocking?"
"Maybe", Alucard said nonchalantly, giving her a causal glance before turning his gaze around the room, searching for other people. "Were you in the middle of something", he asked upon not spotting anyone else.
"Maybe", Integra said simply.
"Onii-chan, diskee!", her computer blurted out. Integra opened the lid wide enough to smash the mute button, and then closed it again.
Alucard was seasoned enough to not avert his gaze, but Seras couldn't seem to help herself with the questioning glances today. Alucard jabbed an elbow into her shoulder, and she seemed to remember herself. Her cheerful, bubbly complexion returned once more.
"I have brought Master as you have requested, ma'am", she said gleefully, wrapping her hands behind her back in a pseudo parade rest.
"Thank you, Police Girl", Sir Integra said simply. "You may leave now."
"Oh", Seras said simply, the bubbly complexion once again fading. She about-faced and walked out the open door.
Sir Integra nodded to it once she had cleared it, and Alucard shoved it closed.
"I see we're on the same episode, Integra", Alucard said nonchalantly.
Integra Helsing rolled her eyes and motioned for Alucard to take a seat. He did so diligently, flopping into it like he owned it, and crossing his leg over the other. He templed his fingers, staring at Integra over the point. The grin reappeared.
"So, whatchya got for me today", he asked.
"I'm calling in a favor."
This caught a raised eyebrow from Alucard. Integra hadn't called in a favor in ten years, and when she had, it hadn't been pretty. The bodies he had buried that night had been bodies he'd sworn he would never interact with again, positively OR negatively. He dipped his head slightly, signaling that he wasn't interested.
"If you do this", Integra said to him, "you can do anything you want for a day."
"Anything", Alucard asked, annunciating the word syllable by syllable.
"You can use the budget however you like", Integra explained, "you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, for a twenty-four-hour period. You can buy a country, take a rocket ship to the moon, hell, you can ram it in my asshole for all I care."
Alucard's other eyebrow shot up, but Integra knew as well as Alucard did that that wasn't a good sign. If she was trying this hard to sweeten the deal, it was going to be something that Alucard more than definitely didn't want to do. He was tempted to say no right off the bat, but he knew that if he did, it would be to his detriment. If Integra was desperate enough to give the loosest cannon in the known world a favor, then there was no doubt that she would go to great lengths to get her objectives achieved. Great lengths that would probably put the Helsing Organization at risk.
And for Alucard, who had seen the company's inception, and had a blood oath tied to the family who ran said Organization, that simply couldn't happen.
"Aright", Alucard said carefully, "I'll bite. Get it? Because I'm a vampire? Mwuhahahaha!"
Integra never laughed at his jokes anymore.
Integra reached under her desk, and withdrew a manila folder, throwing the thing onto the desk near Alucard. Alucard lowered an eyebrow, and opened the folder up. He got as far as the location when the grin completely faded, and he flipped the folder closed, simply saying "No".
"Alucard", Integra began, but was cut off by the much older man.
"NO."
"Alucard", Integra began again.
"NO! I told you that I would never go back to America again!"
"Alucard", she said, and waved a hand under her desk, "remember the ass."
"Not good enough", Alucard said, and stood up. He turned towards the door, practically yelling, "We've been over this! Never America! And you damn well know why!"
"Alucard", Integra called as he walked towards the door. Her voice almost dropped to a whisper as she said a word he hadn't heard from her since she was a small child. "Please."
With a hand on the door handle, Alucard stopped cold. He could remember, clear as day, back when she used to use that word liberally, asking for Alucard or Walter to pass something as menial as a napkin. When she had grown into her teens, she finally understood the power she truly wielded, and "please" had completely dropped from her vocabulary, even when asking for big things like nuclear bombs from powerful countries.
Alucard ever so slightly twisted his head her way.
After a long moment of silence, he finally said, "Ok. Tell me."
"Three hit jobs. It's all I'm asking for."
"Bullshit."
"Honest."
"Who?"
"A homunculus, a werewolf, and a vampire."
"Doesn't sound like something you'd need me for."
"I don't have anyone else I can trust."
That gave him pause. While it was true that they no longer had any professionals outside of Walter, who was sworn to Integra's side, and Alucard himself, certainly there were people she could trust still alive in... or outside... this castle.
"There's not another soul on Earth that could possibly do this job?"
"I made a deal with the American Government", Integra explained, "a few amongst said government want these targets dead for various reasons. They agree to levy support for the Helsing Organization if we send our top agent to eliminate these three targets."
"And you couldn't say something along the lines of, 'The Frenchman is our top agent'?"
"Who would believe that a Frenchman is a top agent of anything?"
"True, but you know what I mean."
"Everyone knows that Alucard the Wallachian is our top agent."
"Now you're calling me Wallachian?"
"Well, you are, aren't you?"
Alucard shrugged, and turned back towards Integra. He walked towards her desk, and plopped back down on the seat. Without saying a word, he held out his hand, and Integra passed him the folder again. Alucard went through the file again. He read through the vampire's file, which was quite extensive. Supposedly, he had an army and was well versed in hypnosis. If he thought a few sleight-of-hand magic tricks were going to save him from a .454 to the face, he had another thing coming.
He glanced up at Integra, noting, "For the werewolf attacks, there's almost nothing except for police records and a few eyewitness accounts. No operational platforms, no strength ratings, not even a mention of whether or not it might have a handler. Any particular reason why that one made the list?"
Integra shrugged.
"What do I know? They made the list."
"Who's 'they'?"
"They'd rather not say."
"Of course they wouldn't", Alucard quipped, and then went back to it. After another moment, he glanced back up, saying, "For the homunculus, there's next to no information on who sired it."
"You should expect that", Integra said, looking down her nose at him in a curious manner.
Alucard shrugged.
"Doesn't make my job any easier", he commented.
Which was true, in a sense. Information on who had sired the homunculus would make things a lot easier; patterns, characteristics and even thoughts could be pre-determined from such a seemingly meaningless piece of information. Plus, there was the whole, "hunting them down in my spare time to make sure they don't dabble in black magic again" aspect.
Alucard glanced down again, read one more line, and immediately glanced back up.
"Am I being punished", he asked.
"No", Integra immediately responded. But as she said this, she lifted a hand to push a lock of hair behind her ear. It was her "tell" that Alucard had gleaned from practically raising her; she was lying.
"You don't sound very convincing", Alucard casually responded.
"You are not being punished", Integra repeated, and this time she didn't push a lock of hair back, but he could tell that she was still lying.
"Why am I being punished?"
"You're not", she quickly responded.
"Integra-"
"The grooming gangs", she replied quickly. She didn't elaborate.
Alucard stared at her, trying to gauge her body language. She was ramrod straight, trying to convince herself that she was right. After a moment of silence, he relented.
"Who complained?"
"I can't say."
"Assdick."
"Alucard", Integra began, and released a deep breath. "You know how the political climate is. Parliament won't stand for any action against a minority group, certainly not one with such controversy surrounding it."
Alucard grew a wicked grin on his face. He HATED grooming gangs, and he hated, with a passion, anyone who tried to protect them with the bullshit excuse that the mostly muslims who ran them were a peace-loving minority. He had born witness to just how much they loved peace, and even if he could find a way to overlook the hypocrisy, he couldn't help but hate them for what they did to him and his brother.
Or his whole country, for that matter. Or the billions of Christians they had murdered over a thousand and more years, to take it a step further than that. Or the trillions of other innocent lives that had been destroyed so thoroughly by their impudent rampaging.
"So someone in Parliament is being a whiney bitch?"
"Alucard-"
"I'll prepare them a little going-away present, then!"
"Alucard, don't!"
"It'll be the gift that keeps on giving, and I ain't talkin' AIDS!"
"If you do anything to the Parliament Building, I will saddle you with an additional assignment in America!"
"Why not", Alucard said, "I'm there anyway."
"Alright then", Integra said with a huff, slapping another file down.
Alucard picked it up, flipped it open, read exactly five seconds of its contents, and then slapped it back down with a peeved expression.
"Really?"
"You wanted it like this", Integra said, folding her arms. "This, or you could not be an asshole for once in your-"
"Oh, now I'm gonna be a mega-asshole."
"Then it's settled! A few minutes of tomfoolery for a few hours of serving the Organization!"
"Very well! I shall do this for you since I'm an asshole!"
"Fine!"
"Good!"
"Ok!"
"Whatever!"
"Fuck off!"
"Good talk", Alucard said, "I guess I'll go pick out a team for the intrusion into hostile foreign-"
"Actually, I already picked out a team for you."
"Oh, really, Integra, you shouldn't have. I know exactly who I work with best-"
"Has all been wiped out."
"... Ok, I'll give you that one. Who did you pick, out of curiosity?"
"Your apprentice, for starters."
"A logical choice... if you think she's ready."
"You need to train her", Integra said bluntly, "for real. She'll never survive if you don't show her how it's done."
"Now that's a load of bullshit. I did it on my own!"
"You're practically immortal."
"Practically and completely are two very different things."
"You're not getting out of this. Frankly, I don't know why you would want to get out of this; you're the one who sired her."
Alucard shrugged. Integra held his gaze for a moment, and then continued.
"Four Americans."
"Get them off of my team."
"Alucard, you need people who are familiar with the areas you will be visiting! It will help you in numerous ways!"
"Name one!"
"What if you get lost?!"
"... good point. Alright, they stay, but they probably won't survive the trip. Frankly, I'd be surprised if Police Girl survives the trip."
"She will if you train her."
Alucard shrugged again.
"Anyone else", he asked.
Integra sighed.
"The Frenchman."
"He's dead."
"Alucard!"
"He is one thousand percent not surviving this trip."
"He's the leader of these Mercs, Alucard. They all like him. He unites them well. And quite frankly, he's rather handsome and I've taken a liking to him."
She was just saying that to cover him, Alucard knew. She didn't form attachments with Mercs; it was a very strict rule of hers. Alucard shrugged anyway.
"Doesn't excuse him from being French."
"What do you have against the French, anyway?"
"Napoleon screwed me over in a game of chess. Have you noticed that they haven't won a war since?"
"Forget about Napoleon! Pip isn't Napoleon!"
"So now you're naming them?"
"That's his name!"
"Sure", Alucard said with a dismissive wave. "Anyone else who won't be surviving this mission?"
"That's it, unless you count yourself. Now go to the lobby, you'll meet your team there."
"My team", Alucard said with narcissism practically dripping from his lips.
"Your team. Go meet them."
With that, Sir Integra turned back to her paperwork, and said no more. Alucard didn't press her anymore. He stood up, straightened his suit, and turned to leave. He opened up the door, and walked out, traveling down the hall at a depressed clip, lost in thought. He wasn't worried about the homunculus, or the vampire, or even the additional assignment. It was the werewolf attacks.
Several things bothered him about it, one of which he already mentioned to Integra. For one, at least two of the police photographs showed deviation in the size of the claw marks used for ripping and tearing, which wasn't entirely cause for concern in and of itself, except that the hair samples had also been fundamentally different in color, but were the same length. The real telling sign was that at the two different sights, the different claw marks were similar to one another, and yet, the method of kill was drastically different from the other photographs. So, they either had a werewolf who was trying to act like two different werewolves, or they had at least two werewolves to deal with.
Two werewolves weren't a problem. What was a problem was the efficiency of the kills, all quick stuff, decapitations in all but the two different ones, which targeted the chest cavity, but had clean swipes to vital organs both times. These werewolves, if there were more than one, were trained how to kill, and rather efficiently. What that suggested was that they had a handler, someone who was willing to brave the stench to train them, someone who was brash, ruthless, and efficient. Which meant two things.
These werewolves were organized. They were savage, but even in borderline bloodlust, they were trained well enough that they naturally targeted areas of a body that would take someone out of a fight quickly. That was worrisome in and of itself, considering he now had to play the role of babysitter to five very vulnerable humans. But what really disconcerted him was the nagging suspicion that this handler was someone he knew. Someone he simultaneously never wanted to see again... and that killed him slowly every second they were apart.
He had no evidence to even remotely suggest that this was the case, but he had forgone his gut in the past, and each time he had, it had cost him dearly.
Suddenly, he felt nauseous. He wanted to find a trashcan and disgorge all of the blood he had ever consumed in a sudden and violent surge. Equally, he felt suddenly, incredibly scared, and for the first time in nearly two hundred years, he felt completely and utterly alone.
His thoughts were interrupted by a wall slamming into his face.
"Fuckshitassballs", he cursed silently, and corrected his course towards the lobby.
Strolling into the lobby like his dick had been there four minutes ago, Alucard took a casual glance at his crew. Even in a more relaxed position, they were fully armed and armored, except for Pip, because Pip was a bastard and preferred to wear a stupid outback hat. Other than that, he was somewhat properly armed with a 1911 at his hip, a weapon not intended for the actual guards of Helsing Manor. For the actual guards, as the four Americans were, they were allowed only Glock 17's in case anyone needed to trade magazines with each other. Beyond that, they were allowed an M4, customizable to their liking, an AK, generally a 7.62x39 model, or a Ghalil chambered in 7.62x39 if they were really special.
All of the guards wore special steel body armor, cut from Army Hummers and refitted for plate carriers, and Kevlar helmets, unless they were a bastard like Pip or invincible like Alucard. At the very least, Pip had his body armor on. Since it was cut as thick as it was, it could stop 7.62x51mm with relative ease, a drastic upgrade from the Kevlar of the Old Guard, as Alucard enjoyed referring to the previous batch of inglorious bastards who had taken the job of being Integra's little bitches.
The men of the lobby had been softly speaking amongst each other before Alucard had walked in with a shit-eating grin covering his face. As soon as he came into sight, the men ceased their speech, and turned serious gazes on him. Police Girl was silently drumming the tips of her fingers against each other, and as soon as he walked in, she stopped thrumming, and looked up at him, inquisitive. Pip had had his eye on Alucard's approach the entire time, and merely raised the eyebrow over his bad eye.
Alucard widened his grin, saying, "Sup?"
He loved approaching situations contrary to how people are used to handling them. These men were Mercenaries, with military training. They were used to the hierarchy pouring it on them, taking those orders, and being mindless grunts. Now they were forced to answer before he had finished speaking to them, something that they were most definitely not used to.
Pip kept his eyebrow raised, and glanced towards his men with his one good eye. His men all shared confused glances, but Alucard took careful note that one of the four looked nervous at this approach.
"You guys ready for some dumb shit?"
The men mumbled amongst themselves, not quite sure how to respond to that.
"Then let's get a few things straight. One; with the exception of Police Girl, the chances of you guys surviving this little safari are at micro-penis levels."
They looked unimpressed by this calculation. Mercenaries were expensive, and didn't require publicity. If there was any experience among them within their respective fields, low survival probabilities were probably rather common occurrences. Nevertheless, Alucard felt compelled to warn them.
"Two; since I'm experienced with fighting what most men would call 'absolute bullshit', I'm in charge. If Pip tells you all that you're going to hot breach a building, and I tell you all to jerk each other off instead, what are you all going to do?"
"Jerk each other off, sir", one of them answered in a thick southern accent nonchalantly.
"Excellent", Alucard said without breaking flow. This was going smoothly. Too smoothly. He needed to shake things up.
"Three, and probably the most important rule of all; America sucks. Period. If I tell you to spray-paint a dick on the statue of liberty, are you going to bitch and complain about it?"
"No, sir", one of the men, with a softer mid-western accent, responded immediately.
"And that is because..."
"America sucks, sir", another one with a full western accent, one much thicker than the last, responded immediately.
These men were prepared for his bullshit, it appeared. That didn't sit well with him. If these guys weren't rattled at bone level by now, that meant they may have previously had no experience with the paranormal, or, worse, they had had an easy time with the paranormal previously, giving them a detrimental confidence boost. If that were the case, they may feel compelled to take the initiative. If they took the initiative, they were targets. If they stayed behind Alucard, however, they had five hundred years of horrific bastard between them and whatever the world could throw at them.
Drastic measures would have to be taken if the rest of them were to have a chance at survival. He had an idea of where to start, but for now, it was only an idea.
"Well, if you all understand the basic rules, then go back to your rooms and crank one out. It'll keep you lose for when we have to try to get through airport security with all this hardware tomorrow."
Pip re-raised his eyebrow at that.
"Don't we have special clearance for stuff like that?"
"No, actually", Alucard replied evenly, "we're off the books enough that we don't have registries in the airports, and furthermore, we generally rely on private transport. But since I've been so naughty, Parliament has decided to impound our vehicles just to be cockwads."
Which wasn't technically false, as far as Alucard knew. After all, they did this the last time he had pulled some shit. Then again, the last time he had pulled some shit, it had involved ramming a plane into a statue of Margaret Thatcher. A complete and total cocaine-fueled accident, but still not an acceptable accident according to those tight-wads.
"So, get some sleep, crank one out, maybe not specifically in that order, and I'll see you all tomorrow with all your gear in this lobby."
Alucard let that hang there for a moment, and then added, "Or in nothing but your underwear. That works too."
The Americans all nodded amongst each other. Victoria frowned. Pip once again raised his eyebrow.
"Not you, Pip", Alucard rebuked, "keep your damn pants on."
Pip shrugged, and everyone began scattering. Alucard turned to leave when the PA speakers blared once again.
"Alucard, Police Girl, please come to my office immediately."
"Well", Alucard said with a sigh, "so much for cranking one out before-"
He paused, and thought about what he was saying, and checked the clock on the wall.
"Yeah, I've got time", he decided, and then headed for Integra's office at his moderate walk.
Police Girl bounded her way down the hallway, easily overtaking him. Alucard eased his way down the hallway, not particularly caring to keep a fast pace. When he finally got to the room, he threw open the door.
"What's up, fuckers?"
Ms. Helsing sat with a serious expression behind her desk, which wasn't anything unusual, and Police Girl sat in a chair in front of the desk, looking happily at Alucard. There was one open chair in front of the desk, and Alucard sat down in it. For many uncomfortable seconds, there were no words spoken. Alucard maintained his wicked grin.
"Alucard", Integra said, "I called you in here today because I believe that someone amongst this group here is feeding sensitive information to enemy agents."
"Whaaaaat", Alucard said, sounding surprised. He spared a worried glance towards Victoria. He really didn't want to lose his apprentice after gaining her so soon.
"Oh, no", Police Girl said, worry creasing her face, "that's really bad!"
"Way to state the obvious, Police Girl", Alucard said nonchalantly. For him, that was a rather harsh rebuke. "Did you learn about espionage in police school?"
"It has come to my attention", Integra continued, turning her gaze towards Alucard, "that I am currently looking at the person who is leaking sensitive information."
Police Girl turned and looked at him. Alucard held his gaze, as well as his grin.
"Well", he said, "I pity the person you're looking at. Actually", he continued, turning around in his chair, "is there someone behind me?"
"It's you, Alucard", Integra said blandly.
"Whaaaaat", Alucard said, sounding unconvinced. "Me? Really? I'm not leaking information to enemy agents! This is ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! You should be ashamed of yourself! I have never been, nor will I ever be, in contact with enemy agents! You are just judging me super harshly, and completely unfairly, because I'm an immigrant! I have a bit more integrity, and furthermore, a bit more class than that!"
Right then, his phone rang.
Yes, a lap dance is so much beeeeetter when the stripper is cryin'
Alucard went rigid. Sir Integra templed her fingers, sinking lower to the desk in a predatory stance. Police Girl was simply appalled by his ringtone.
"Alucard", Sir Integra asked, "are you going to answer that?"
Yes, a lap dance is so much beeeeetter when the stripper is cryin'
"Honestly", Alucard said, choosing his words carefully, "I'm not sure I should."
Well, I find it's quite a thrill... when she grinds me against her will...
"Please, just turn that disgusting music off", Police Girl said, making a disgusted face.
Yes, a lap dance is so much be-
Alucard flipped his phone open.
"Helsing Organization, Alucar-"
"ALUCARD, OL' BUDDY, OL' PAL O' MINE", a definitely Scottish – definitely not Italian accent screamed on the other end. This oddly enthused voice belonged to none other than Alexander Anderson, the Catholic Church's number one asshat, better known as a cross between an exorcist and an assassin.
"Hey, buddy", Alucard began, but was cut off by the enthused... Italian?
"Hey, Alucard, listen ta this", Alexander said, clearing his throat. "I've got a proposition for ya, and some real good news beforehand!"
"That's good, buddy", Alucard began, but was again cut off by the... Italian.
"Tha good news is, I'VE RIGGED YER SHTUPID CASTLE HELSING OR WHATEVER TA BLOW!"
"Oh", Alucard said, like a man finding out he had just got a life sentence with convicted murderers over shoplifting. "Um... ok-"
"Tha proposition is as follows", Alexander continued, "Ye've got fifteen minutes ta disarm all eighty four of tha bombs I've planted around yer castle, or else... well, everyone fookin' dies, how 'bout that?"
"Hey, uh", Alucard began, and thankfully wasn't interrupted again, "this isn't really a good time."
"What do ya mean it's not a good time", Alexander asked with disappointment and skepticism competing in his voice.
"I'm literally sitting in a meeting, with my boss, talking about having contact with enemy agents."
The line was deathly silent.
"Oh", Alexander said, after some time.
"Yeah", Alucard affirmed.
"Oh", Alexander said again, the whole situation finally sinking in.
"Yeah", Alucard affirmed again.
"Oh", he said once more, as it set in the whole way.
"Yeah", Alucard affirmed once more.
"Well", Alexander said, searching for the words, "that stinks."
"Yep", Alucard confirmed.
"So, um", Alexander said, rustling noises coming across the line, "I'm just gonna go disarm those bombs."
"Yeah", Alucard affirmed yet again.
"I'm sorry about this whole mess", Alexander began, but Alucard cut him off.
"No, it's mostly my fault, I guess" he rationalized. "I am the one who gave you the schema-", Alucard, suddenly remembering his place, derailed his own conversation. "HA HA HA never mind. Sorry about ruining our Wednesday."
"No problem", Alexander said. Beeping noises came over the line. "See ya for poker tomorrow!"
"Actually I'll be out of-", again, Alucard remembered his place. "Never mind, we'll talk about it later."
"Alrighty then", Alexander said, as affirming beeps came over the line, and the beeps ceased all together. "Toodaloo!"
"Toodles", Alucard replied, as he flipped his phone closed.
After several moments of awkward silence, Sir Integra finally spoke.
"Well", she asked, in a condescending tone, "who was that?"
"Wrong number", Alucard replied.
...
It had been an ass-chewing for the ages, and it had gone on for quite some time, at one point including a chair being thrown at his face. Alucard had had to do a lot of apologizing for those shenanigans, which, even by his own logic, served him right, considering all the apologizing she had to do on his behalf, and quite often. Police Girl had apparently been sufficiently "warned", and Alucard had been sufficiently trash-talked, so she sent them both to their respective rooms, Police Girl right across the hall from Integra, and Alucard back into the basement.
He sat here now, in his comfy nondescript chair, pondering the events of today. He would not be getting any sleep tonight; he rarely did anyway, and not simply because he was constantly a moody bitch, but simply because he didn't need it. So, he sat brooding, and pondering.
Hs thoughts were troubled. Everything about this mission was shitty, but his mind kept meandering back to the werewolves. Nothing about that was right, and his mind kept jumping to a dangerous conclusion, a conclusion he refused to draw.
He would get through this shitty mission. He would come home with at least the apprentice in tow. And he would do it all damn near flawlessly.
So long as he never saw her.
Throughout the night, he realized he needed to get his mind off things.
And just like that, the wicked grin returned.
...
The six glorious members of the American Expeditionary Extermination Force, or Domino Squad, as Alucard had suggested they be called, stood at the ready before the dawn was to break out in the middle of the lobby. The Mercs carried duffel bags, whilst Seras had a rolling suitcase. Alucard didn't have anything but the clothes on his back. If he needed a new suit, he could get one fitted in America, and if he needed anything more than that, well... there were always naughty little men and women roaming around in the night that no one would miss.
And if that failed...
Well, it wouldn't. Because evil was a constant in his life. An inescapable constant.
Other than his two Silverballers and a metric fuckton of loaded magazines, Alucard carried a single grenade, which bulged suspiciously in his pocket, an extra pair of sunglasses, an unlimited credit card and the documents that detailed each of their targets... and their little secondary mission. It was all he needed, considering he no longer sweated or gave off any kind of scent, or shed skin cells, for that matter.
The Mercs were travelling light; a single change of clothes, no body armor, handguns only, all broken down and carefully hidden for transfer. They wore t-shirts and jeans, all except for Pip, who wore his stupid hat, and Police Girl, who wore her Helsing shirt and some tasteful shorts.
"Everyone ready", Alucard asked with a grin.
Everyone nodded.
"Then let's get the fuck outta here", Alucard said, as he turned towards the door.
Outside, Walter awaited them with a car that would take them to the airport. He opened up the back door, allowing the Mercenaries to get comfortable, then opened the middle door for Police Girl and Alucard. Walter walked over to Alucard's side, and stood ramrod straight.
"Sir, if I may inquire", Walter began, but Alucard cut him off.
"Straight to the airport, old chap."
"Indeed, sir", Walter said, and closed his door.
Walter got into the driver's seat, and put the car in drive, having already warmed up the engine like a true gentleman.
Suddenly, the front doors to Helsing Manor slammed open, and Integra stormed out, steaming mad, and holding an RPG-7.
"ALUCARD, YOU COCKSUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!"
"Walter", Alucard inquired politely, "step on it, if you please?"
Walter spared a glance over his shoulder, and then responded, "Certainly, sir."
Walter stomped on the gas, and the car shot forward.
Seras turned a horrified gaze towards Alucard.
"Master", she said in a mortified voice, "what did you do?"
The wicked grin and an RPG exploding next to them was the only response she received.
Parliament, 30 minutes earlier
Chelsea hated her job. She hated sitting around all day, doing nothing productive. They had fed her such bullshit about how "important" a job like hers was. Opening up the doors for lazy assholes in business suits who didn't give a damn about the country they ran? She could have done more good in the world as a garbage woman.
She looked down at the ring of keys as she walked towards the front doors. She didn't bother glancing up at the flags that flew lazily in the wind. She had seen them enough times to last a lifetime.
As she passed under the flagpoles, however, she felt something drop on her shoulder. It was too heavy to be a raindrop, and furthermore, it wasn't scheduled to rain for the next few days. She touched her shoulder with disgust, fully expecting to find bird poop.
Her fingertips came back red.
Something deep insider her told her not to look up at the flagpoles, that whatever was up there was not meant for her eyes. Nevertheless, even mortified as she was, morbid curiosity got the better of her, and her eyes followed streaking trails of blood that lanced all the way to the tops of the flagpoles.
At the top of each flagpole, a man was impaled there, the end of the pole inserted into the rectum, and gravity forcing the men the rest of the way down. The tops of the blood-stained flagpoles stuck out of the men's gaping maws, almost distracting from the looks of absolute terror and pain beyond imagine adorning their faces.
One of them twitched.
Chelsea screamed.
Alucard grinned.