Disclaimer: Even though I've been gone for… awhile, I still don't have anything to do with Hellsing lol
XII.
They continued to travel east, toward what Sir Hellsing had said was a port town that she'd sent her troops to. The fact that an actual army had been sent to aid in her "rescue" had done little to pacify Seras, but Sir Hellsing had either failed to notice or hadn't cared enough to. But then, the shadows stemmed from nowhere.
The darkness had seemed to increase as they made their way forward, and Sir Hellsing was able to make out dark figures farther out on the moors. She didn't have to guess too hard to recognize who it possible could be.
The oblong, wiry trees that dotted the moors were far away, and the night gave no favors. No, the shadows flowed from Count Alucard's arm like a seamless silk slip and flickered hungrily in the air, on the ground, and around its victims. The Count's hair was unbound and blended with them. The insidious glow of his bright red eyes contrasted with the black night air.
Sir Integra stopped dead, grabbing Seras' wrist in a fierce grip. Seras didn't complain when she motioned for them to lie on their stomachs on the prickly bracken in a sorry attempt to hide themselves, lest the monster glance their way. But they were thankfully still a good enough ways away to be disregarded, and were hidden by the shadow of the moon.
Sir Integra's pistol pulled down on her hand like a dead weight, and her body itched to run forth, pull the trigger, blow in the monster's head, and finally rid the world of this monstrosity…
… as if that would've been enough to finish him off.
But she inherently knew such thoughts and impulses to be foolish. To do so would put Walter in even graver danger and the monster, with his violent, jerky movements and bright eyes, looked to be in a sort of passionate rage. The night itself seemed to darken in response to it.
The Queen's Knight could only make out shapes and faces, and although she could not hear the monster's words she was able to see that he spoke to his captives. The three men dangled in midair, held aloft by the same constricting black shadow that fanned from the bindings around their chests to flare under their feet like onyx fire.
Perhaps it was fire. But just what had set the monster over the edge? Had he discovered his beloved to be spirited away, or was there something worse? Well, whatever the reason, it had been enough to put the monster into an inconsolable frenzy.
It took a moment, but she soon recognized the other two men to be his underlings, Renfield and his vagrant master. She wondered what had happened to Timothy. Suddenly all three were harshly slammed to the ground and momentarily engulfed by the flaming darkness, entirely hidden from view. Her muscles tensed. It took all her years of the bitter emotional disciplinary training not to leap up and betray their position to help Walter.
There were risks in this profession, risks she and Walter were all too aware of… but that rational made it none the easier. On the contrary, sometimes such trains of thought made it all the harder. Walter had always tried his best to look after and help her, even when she acted like the insufferable brat she had been bred to be. It would be despicable if she did not condescend to do the same for him.
However…
She shot a moment's glance at Seras from the corner of her eye.
"W-was… was that Walter?" Seras whispered in unmeasured, shaky breaths.
"Yes." Her tone was clipped, controlled. Sir Integra spared her another glance from the corner of her eye. The girl was shaking.
Sir Integra narrowed her eyes. This was no time for emotion. Walter was a veteran who had seen and annihilated his fair share of the undead. Seras, on the other hand, had only just discovered that vampires existed an hour ago… and that the most powerful had decided to claim her. The girl could barely keep from dry sobbing so as not to give away their position, let alone be able put herself in the frame of mind to kill a homicidal vampire who could behead them with a flick of the wrist. But then again, Sir Integra grimly noted, he wouldn't target Seras, would he?
Nevermind that, Seras needed her protection more than Walter did. At the very least Walter had experience in these sorts of situations, and as long as he-
"Stop it! Stop now, I beg of you!"
Dear God.
Sir Integra jolted up a split second too late to pull the girl back down to the ground after Seras stood and started screaming at the top of her lungs. She sucked in a curse and gritted her teeth, and slowly looked back at the monster's fire. It had been put out.
He stood alone on the horizon, three ash covered figures kneeling on the ground before him. For a long, silent moment they stood staring at each other, he at them and Sir Hellsing and Seras back at him. The night had momentarily reverted back to its eerie stillness, and managed to maintain it even when the monster held up a gloved hand and audaciously waved for them to join him. Sir Hellsing would've been more annoyed if she hadn't been feverishly combing through the back-up plans she'd memorized over the years, but so far she was coming up with a blank. She supposed that was probably normal when fighting a monster descent from the bowels of Hell itself, but she also found her new charge to be quite the irritation.
Seras Victoria wasn't making things easier. The girl actually started off toward the vampire at his request, like a lamb to the slaughter.
"Where are you going?" Sir Hellsing spoke in a forced, measured tone when she caught Seras' wrist. Her grip tightened to a bruising hold when she tried to pull away. Did the vampire have powers of hypnosis?
"I am finished with the death and destruction this mess has caused! That I am the catalyst of!" Seras was vehement, her eyes filling with tears threatening to fall.
"I refuse to let another suffer on my behalf, whether it be Walter, Pip, or even the Queen! I simply cannot, will not let this go further!" She fully believed in her own argument.
If she gave herself freely to the Count, he'd have no more reason to hurt anyone. A small, nagging voice in the back of her head reminded her that nothing was ever so simple, but in the heat of the moment she pushed it down and tried to yank her wrist out of Sir Hellsing's grip.
"And to what end will playing the martyr bring you? To the men he's already murdered on your behalf?" Sir Hellsing snapped, put out by the statement. She'd already wasted so many of her men's lives to save this girl, and then this arrogant, flighty girl simply decides to throw in the towel and let their sacrifices be in vain? It struck a deep nerve.
"I refuse to stand by and watch the Count murder another on my behalf!" Seras practically screeched as she turned on her heel to face Sir Integra. She grabbed the other woman's hand and pulled, and the slippery silk sleeve of her evening dress giving her just enough leverage to free herself before breaking into a sprint.
"Goddamnit," Sir Hellsing hissed before taking off after the stupid, stupid girl.
Her plans were useless now, and she'd have to depend on her own quick wit to save them. They were miles away from any possible reinforcements and the beast had been made aware of their presence and position. It would be useless to run or fight now – he would easily be able to overtake them in any situation.
The night had been shocked in to silence by the Count, and the dry bracken crunched beneath their feet. Sir Hellsing clutched her gun a little harder as they approached the Count and his captives. Seras ran about ten feet in front of her, and stopped when she approached the edge of the moonlight. Sir Integra stopped a few steps behind her, observing the situation. Her eyes narrowed upon seeing Walter's battered form splayed out on the ground like rejected chophouse bits, but still schooled her features to an impassive calm. To do so made her less susceptible to emotional appeals and attacks.
Seras, on the other hand…
Sir Hellsing laid a hand on the girl's shivering shoulder, primly deciding to ignore the hiss that was sent to her from not even thirty feet away. Consciously avoiding looking at the vampire, Sir Hellsing roughly pulled and forced Seras to stumble back a few steps to stand next to her. The air was surprisingly quiet, until-
"Do nottouch her."
And suddenly he was upon them, right in front of them and close enough for Sir Hellsing to smell the iron and gunmetal that clung to his clothes, to hear the quiet hiss of his breath. She slowly took her eyes off Walter to meet his fiery gaze and the challenge it bore. Her expression was stripped bare of any telltale emotion or stress.
"I would never harm Seras Victoria." Her voice was calm, perhaps a tad too calm. She felt Seras stiffen in her grasp. "Nay, not in the ways you did her family." In hindsight, it was never a good idea to provoke a bloodthirsty vampire, but Sir Hellsing had never been one to pass up an opportunity. The beast's eyes burned.
"One should not speak of things one does not understand, scum." A deep, guttural growl rose from his chest as he took a large step toward them, and then another and another. The black flames sprung up around his feet like stray weeds, small and slithering. Sir Hellsing held her gun out in front of them and the beast stopped for a moment to stare at it. Sir Hellsing's eyes narrowed, and her heart beat quick and deep in her throat despite herself.
But the Count only smiled that terrible, sickening smile. It made his eyes crinkle and didn't force any dimples, but it did showcase a smile that had previously lacked the sinister canines showed off now. Seras audibly gulped, and her heart stopped when his grin expanded. His eyes took on a terrifying glimmer as he took another step forward, holding out his hand toward the gun as if issuing a challenge.
"No! Stop it!" Her voice hadn't been as loud as before, but it had apparently been loud enough to wrench the Count out of his homicidal premonitions. He turned to look at her sharply, his hand still outstretched but the smile pulled clean off his lips. Seras could practically feel the Count's gaze roaming over her, searching her. Beside her Sir Integra cursed, but chose not to make a move to regain the Count's attention in lieu of battle strategy.
Her eyes darted from the Count to Integra to Walter. The breath caught in her throat, and although she knew that she should've already looked away Seras just couldn't help it. The poor, elderly man had been forced into a kneeling position and was blanketed from the waist down in inky black shadow. His head limply drooped over his chest, and his shoulders sagged with the weight of the world. And was that… Renfieldheld captive next to him? And the farm boy?
Good God, how many more lives would be jeopardized by the Count because of her? First Edith, then her family, and now harmless bystanders?
How many others had to die?
Seras clutched her fisted hand to her heart, forcing herself break her stare and turn back to the Count.
She knew it wasn't her fault, but she also knew that he wouldn't stop hurting others if he didn't get what he wanted. Her own family had been… She didn't want anyone else to have her lot. She couldn't live with the knowledge that her selfishness had cost someone else their life, even if that meant she'd lose her own in return.
She refused to look the Count in the eye. Instead she focused on the crackling black flames that surrounded his feet and – when had Baskerville gotten here? The dog seemed to smile up at her as it sat patiently next to its master, red eyes reflected black by the small blaze. Sir Integra pulled out a second pistol.
She intuitively knew there was only one way to make him stop. But to tame the beast was to give in to him… he, the very man whom Sir Integra had so vehemently claimed to be behind her sister's disappearance and her family's deaths. Could she really do that? Could she really betray her family by giving in to their murderer?
But perhaps he hadn't been behind it… perhaps Sir Integra had missed something? Or maybe she was simply stuck in denial.
"I…" Seras tried to speak once the Count's gaze had become too heavy to bear, even though she had no idea what she wanted to say.
Seras was a ball of horribly conflicting emotions: anger, sadness, fear, horror, and trepidation ate away at her heart and tangled her stomach into knots. Her hands were cold and clammy. She didn't want to be anywhere near him after such a nightmare of a night, but she couldn't very well watch three other people suffer because of it. And – what if he was responsible for Edith and the rest of her family? There was always reasonable doubt, yes, but Good Lord, what then?
However – she had to continuously remind herself, always remind herself – her emotions could always be sorted through and tended to later. Human lives hung in the balance.
"I… You must release them… please." Seras finally managed to muster, looking to meet the Count's burning gaze. A drop of cold sweat slithered down her lower back, and her instincts absolutely begged her to take off running in the opposite direction. What in God's name was she thinking, trying to reckon with a vampire?
The Count cocked his head, his lips drawn into a thin line that bordered on a smile. "I am afraid I cannot acquiesce your wishes, Police Girl." His voice was calmer, smoother. Seras would've thought him to have relaxed if it weren't for that insidious gleam in his eye.
"May I ask why?" Seras held her hand tightly to her chest like a crutch. It was easier to keep from shaking if she held on to something. Her mother would've been proud to see her daughter keep to her manners. Their familiarity was a nice coping mechanism.
His smile flickered for a second but was quickly recovered. It wasn't missed by Seras or Sir Integra. "Why Police Girl, they're traitors – dogs. Less than dogs, actually! They're scum, vermin, garbage!" The flames suddenly surrounded the three again, but did not venture out the moonlit circle the Count and prisoners stood in. His eyes were dark and predatory.
Seras stared, her mouth dry. "And… what have they done to betray you so deeply?" She dug her grave deeper.
He stared at her for a long moment. His smile all but vanished and a deep frown sat in its place. He took a step back – her shoulders relaxed slightly – and threw his arm in a grand sweep over the three men. "They have gone against my wishes, and have by doing so put all I have worked for in jeopardy." The Count answered cryptically, glaring at them and then back at her.
"W-Walter is innocent, I'm certain." Seras whispered, stealing a glance at the pitiful old man. He didn't deserve to be out here on the cold moor, afraid for his life... all because of her. It wasn't right, it wasn't just.
The Count raised an eyebrow. "I do not remember you being granted the right of divine judgment, Police Girl. The butler is at fault as much as my own servants."
Seras' eyes widened. " Your… servants?" Her gaze flickered to the farmhand, whose back was straight as a board even while consumed by shadow. "The farm boy… he serves you?" Her voice gradually grew more assertive, anger gifting false courage. "Then the wolf sighting was a set up? To lure Pip away to his death and to get me alone?" Seras snapped.
The Count's eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, eliciting a whine from Baskerville. Seras took a step back, and his frown hardened. "Certainly I could not have had him in our household any longer, Police Girl. He was successfully poisoning you against me!" He growled, and Seras felt an inconsolable rage well inside her.
"Do not justify it!" She screeched, taking a step toward him.
"Y-you tried to kill him just as you killed my family! You killed them all, you killed them!" Seras screamed while getting closer and closer to him and straight into the shadows. They licked at her ankles in warning, but gave her no pain or discomfort. Tears rushed to her eyes and threatened to fall, and she looked up to avoid having them spill in front of the Count once again.
The Count crossed his arms and watched her warily, a strange flicker in his eye. "I did not participate or order the attacks on your family." Alucard intoned once she had calmed somewhat and wasn't on the verge of tears any longer. He spoke slowly and in low tones.
Her head snapped up, eyes blazing. "I don't believe you!" She took several more steps closer to him. She was close enough now to see what little white was left of his eyes, the shine of his teeth.
"Who else would do such a thing? Who else would want to? My f-family," Seras bit her cheek, trying so hard not to break down, but failing all the same. "My family had no business with your dastardly game! They wouldn't have gotten in your way; you could've eventually had me! I, " She gulped another breath of air. "I loved you! But now… now…" Seras was shaking now, but from mourning, rage, or terror she didn't know. Tears freely fell down her cheeks, and sobs wracked her body.
Two large hands suddenly clasped her shoulders and forced her closer to the vampire, although she refused to meet his eye.
"Listen to me, and listen to me well." He spoke softly, but did not come off as anything less than threatening. "It was not my intent to harm your loved ones. Those who are responsible sit before you in my grasp."
Seras' eyes widened, and she tore out of the Count's hold with an unholy amount of force. Walter… Renfield… the farm hand? Impossible! How? Why? When?
"Walter…?" She whispered, stunned that the old butler could've done such a thing. She truly didn't want to believe he had been involved.
The Count scoffed. "He was not involved in either incident. However," The Count had disappeared to stand directly behind her now, close enough for her to feel his garishly red great coat brush against the back of her evening dress.
"I hold him accountable for other crimes." His voice dropped in tone, and Seras involuntarily shuddered. A strong arm slowly snaked around her waist, pulling her closer into a backwards embrace that was more a claim than anything else.
"No, Police Girl," He whispered into the shell of her ear, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine, "it was my servants who went against my will, my servants who harmed your family. It was Xavier who managed your sister's ordeal, and it was Renfield who plotted the downfall of your household. It was done under my nose in the hopes that my favor could be won by doing away with your relations so you would be more easily obtainable." His lips dangerously trailed away from her ear and ghosted down to the curve of her neck and shoulder. Her heartbeat was erratic, and it was getting hard to think. Her mind was blank as it tried to absorb as much as it could.
"What will you have me do, my Police Girl?" She could feel his smile on her delicate skin, and she fought the instinct to lean in to him. His grip tightened on her waist, and his thumbs kneaded innocent little circles into the sides of her waist. She remained numb, irresponsive to his caresses.
"Shall I kill them for you?" He hummed crassly, planting a light kiss over her jugular and continuing back up of the side of her neck.
Shall I kill them?
His offer hit her like the cold wind of a winter's night. She audibly swallowed while still clutching her shaking fist to her chest. Seras was suddenly all too terrified not by the Count, but by the sudden realization that yes, she did want them to die. Rage, cold and all encompassing, wanted them to bleed by her hand. She wanted them to feel the pain and horror her family had, to be aware of her torment in every sense of the word.
But to do so would make her no better than one of the monsters that kneeled before her.
The Count apparently felt her sudden stiffness, the slight increase in her breath and heartbeat, and nuzzled his cheek to hers in a farce at comfort. "I willingly volunteer my services, but you may certainly have the honors." He purred slowly, seductively. Seras could feel his fingers digging in to her waist through her corset and his warm breath on her cheek.
Her mind swam. She wouldn't even have to kill them herself, technically freeing her of the guilt. But after all was said and done, a hesitant voice noted from the back of her mind, there would still be two dead bodies to be accounted for. There would still be death and blood, but this time it would certainly be her fault. Innocent or guilty, there would be no denying or justifying it. But even though it would be all on her - Seras clenched her fists - she couldn't continue lying to herself that she didn't want them to die. Her fingernails left sharp indents in her palms.
What would Edith have done? Would she have indulged in revenge, would she have stared into the abyss until it stared back? Her sister had never been a violent person and had only taken to dealings with Sir Hellsing once she had grown concerned with her sister's relationship with the Count.
It hadn't escaped her notice that the Count had been so quick to offer the death of his underlings as well. Could she really trust his word? Should she trust his word? Teachings of the Church, long crammed into her long-term memory from mindless Sunday School sessions, began to resurface.
"An eye for an eye… makes the whole world blind." She managed to choke out even though a surprisingly large part of her screamed in fury as she did so. It had been both her disgust with her family's killers and her own pride that kept her from accepting the Count's offer. She was surprised to find that she was about to cry. She could practically hear the Count frown.
"I see you're still Catholic." Was his ill-placed remark.
BAM. BAM.
It was so sudden that it took both Seras and the Count by surprise, although Baskerville hadn't even glanced toward the source of the sound. Sir Integra stood tall behind the two now limp and disintegrating forms of Renfield and the Farm Boy, her gun still smoking. She met their gazes evenly, first Seras and then the Count. Her charcoal great coat, torn and disheveled, fluttered in a sudden gust of wind.
"I have never failed to take advantage of the opportunities bestowed upon me. I will never fail to kill a vampire if chance allows it." Her voice was cold but level, controlled. Her posture was perfect even while the Count's black flames licked at her ankles. It seemed that the Hellsing heiress had regained her composure and her sense of self… for the time being, at least. Walter, still held by darkness, was still and looked upon her with a tired, indiscernible expression.
Seras stared. Whether it was at the suddenness of Sir Hellsing's actions, the jumble of her conflicting thoughts and morals, or the fact that the vampires had just turned to dust before her eyes that rendered her speechless she didn't know or care. It was all too much. She desperately wanted to be able to bottle and throw away her emotions, to run away, to place as much distance between herself and this horrible nightmare of a night as she could.
But the Count's hold around her waist didn't loosen, and Sir Integra's expression didn't waver even when the black flames sprung back to life and trapped all four of them in the circle. She would not be allowed to forget, not now and – if what she feared proved true – not ever. It was pointless not to accept the fact that her life had been irrevocably changed.
"How… thoughtful of you, Sir Hellsing." The Count spoke cordially, and Seras didn't need to turn to imagine the horrible smile that he undoubtedly bared. "You exterminated the rats for us. How kind!" The flames encircling them jumped tenfold in height.
Sir Integra said nothing, but took an obvious step closer to Walter. Seras stared at her desperately, but the woman did not meet her gaze. Seras' knees started to shake, and this time the Count didn't do anything to console her. His attention remained focused solely on Sir Hellsing.
"However," He laughed as Baskerville began to prowl. "I did not ask for your assistance, did I?! I do not recall requiring your services!" The Count's civil sentence ended in disjointed laughter, insanity. Seras cried out when he began to grip her too hard, and several of Baskerville's additional eyes opened, unblinking.
Sir Hellsing's eyes narrowed. She raised her gun even with Seras pressed against him, more than perfectly able to follow the Count's train of thought. Seras blanched at her with no little amount of hurt in her stare. Now that they had come to the end of the rope, was Sir Integra going to abandon her?
As if on cue, the woman's eyes flickered from the Count to Seras for split second, so quick that Seras almost missed it. But the look in her eye, the tensing of her jaw, told Seras all she needed to know. Sir Integra had already lost too much to lose the game.
"As such I hold you responsible for the unlawful execution of two of my subjects! You had no jurisdiction to kill them, yet their blood is on your hands. What a pity, what an injustice!" He began to shake with laughter. Seras began to fidget only to be held to tighter. "Oh the mighty Sir Hellsing, harbinger of justice, the White Knight, to be the one to commit such a crime in front of the vampire world's highest judge! What a shame. You, of all humans, should know that the only punishment fit for murder is death!" The Count was laughing, practically screaming as he declared the verdict, picking up Seras and spinning them both around in backwards circles.
Sir Integra did not lower her guns.
"You can cut the act, Hellsing scum. I'm sure your arms grow tired." The Count stopped laughing once they stopped spinning, though his gruesome smile remained intact. Baskerville slowly began to stalk around Sir Integra and Walter, tongue lolling and haunches risen.
Sir Integra did not lower her guns.
The Count's smile didn't waver. "Well, then…" He shifted so as to scoop Seras fully into his embrace, one of his arms still placed firmly around her waist while the other was snaked under her knees to pull her off of the ground. Her cheek brushed against the silk of his shirt and aside from her face peeking out, his great coat consumed her.
What happened next wasn't obvious to Seras at first. The Count was quiet, although Baskerville's panting became more noticeable. It was Walter, who began to moan, that gave away what was happening. After what seemed like a single minute his moans morphed into a yellthat she was sure would later haunt her nightmares. It was when Sir Integra finally broke her stance to begin to walk, hop, and then leap around in the most undignified manner Seras had ever seen her behave in that she knew something was wrong.
Their surrounding temperature struck her. The black flames, still encircling them and covering the grassy ground under their shoes, had gone from harmless to four hundred and fifty one degrees in a second. Her eyes widened, jaw slackening. Dear God, he was trying to burn them alive!
Already the air began to smell of burning rubber, cotton, and… she stopped herself before she could go on. Smoke rose around Sir Hellsing's feet and Walter's form. Oh God, Walter! His entire body was covered in shadow! The Count was going to kill them, really kill them, if she didn't do something! Her throat constricted from guilt, shame, horror, and fear. More people were going to die because of her! Seras clutched the Count's shirt and pulled herself up to face him. She couldn't allow that to happen anymore, not after all Sir Hellsing and Walter had done for her!
"Stop it! Please, please stop it! I'll go with you, I vow to cooperate!" Seras screeched with tears streaming down her cheeks as she looped her hand around the Count's neck, pulling herself close to his face. "Please, oh God, please do not harm them! Do not hurt them anymore, please!" She forced herself not to shudder, not to give in to her fear when those searing red eyes focused on her.
The screaming began to taper off. From somewhere out in the field, Baskerville whined in disappointment.
"Oh, Police Girl? You offer your word?" The Count asked. Her heart stopped in the face of his suddenly impassive, analytical expression. His skin was pearlescent in the moonlight and it stunned her that she thought that even after all this he was still horribly, horribly beautiful.
Seras gulped. She met his eye, albeit not fearlessly. She desperately wanted to take it back, to deny it, but Sir Integra and Walter's lives were dependent on her sacrifice. This would be her last chance to possibly rid herself of the Count… but in the end, Seras thought, it was not a far-fetched assumption to think that Sir Hellsing and Walter would do more good during the course of their lives than she would have been able to. And even if she did somehow manage to get out of this nightmare… would the Count ever really leave her alone?
"I..I…" Seras stuttered, her grip around the Count's neck faltering with her growing fear. But then she stole a quick glance at Sir Hellsing, who glared up at the Count from where she sat on her knees next to Walter's motionless form. The soles of her shoes were entirely gone and the bottoms of her feet were a unnaturally bright red. Seras swallowed.
"I give you my word. I will go with you as long as you leave Sir Hellsing and Walter in peace, Count Alucard." Seras paused before stealing another glance at the two. The wind picked up once more, relieving them of some of the smoke.
"Please… don't hurt them anymore." Her voice was quiet, but final. She looked the Count in the eye for a moment before she lost her nerve and looked away. It wasn't a second later before the Count reshuffled her in his arms to hold her in one and to gently take her chin in the other to move it to face him. Seras had no choice but to stare in the face of death once more.
Even though he was a true monster, a demon, a killer, a murderer, he was still beautiful. The dark ebony of his hair contrasted perfectly with the milky whiteness of his skin, and his eyes bore in to hers like shining red rubies. The Count offered her a mischievous smile, identical to the one he had given her when she and Edith first ran in to him in the library. A true Mephistopheles.
"I accept your offer, Seras Victoria." His voice was back to its usual velvety, seductive tone. He turned his back to Sir Integra and Walter, and snapped his fingers. The shadows that had originally crackled around them suddenly dropped to the ground like water and slithered to their master before bubbling and swishing to eventually form the likeness of a horse and open-air carriage. The Count wasted no time in approaching and stepping in to it, depositing Seras on the seat opposite him before whistling for Baskerville. Once the dog bounded inside, the Count clicked his tongue and the shadow stallion took off along the moor, paying the sharp bracken and thorny heather no mind.
Seras turned backwards to steal once more glance at the couple fading in the background, biting her bottom lip. The Count noticed her expression, but reclined against the thick cushioned seat his shadows had made. Apparently they had good taste.
"Rest assured, my Seras Victoria, I will do nothing more to harm them this day." He said with that mischievous smile still stuck on his face. The Count looked up at the starry sky above them before looking back down to meet Seras' questioning gaze.
"I believe they will have enough between them to make up for anything I failed to achieve." Seras didn't nod, didn't respond. She remained silent and turned to watch them disappear from view.
Sir Hellsing appeared to be standing over Walter, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind. Seras thought that strange – shouldn't Sir Hellsing have been on the ground, attending to his wounds. Or… perhaps Walter was already too far gone. Seras swallowed the lump in her throat, and quickly looked away and missed the way Sir Hellsing leapt as far away from Walter as her injured feet would allow her.
For Walter was not dead.
No, Walter had reawakened to reveal bright, fiery copper eyes.
A/N:
Fun fact: I'm actually Catholic lol
Uh… hey guys! How ya been?
Again, sorry for the delay! All I can say is that organic chem and microbio are killer.
Ahehehe… at least they're making a third season of Tokyo ghoul!
Thank you all for sticking by me and reviewing so kindly! Next chapter is completely new material – whoo hoo!
Della