Warning! Hellsing isn't mine, my soul is gone, and I'm out of cigars and I
HATE Seras.
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The sound of his phone ringing snapped him out of his revere and he fumbled to get it out of his pocket before his voicemail answered it for him. He didn't recognize the number on the caller ID, though he answered anyway.
"Anderson" He grunted into the phone.
"Hello, Father. I just thought you might like to know that my offer still stands." The voice on the other end of the line made the priest clench his hand reflexively, and the plastic casing of the cell phone cracked a bit. It was him of course. That damned monster.
"How the fuck did you get this number, demon!" he demanded, growling.
The voice laughed "Such language is unbefitting of a man of the cloth, wouldn't you say? And I didn't get the number. You're only talking to yourself. Your little toy isn't even on." Alucard's muted voice laughed again and Anderson pulled the phone away from his ear. The little digital display was blank. He pressed the power button and the phone lit up-rotating slowly on the screen was that familiar group of symboling that made up Alucard's seal. Got Mit Uns. Said the greeting. Anderson howled, enraged and flung the device against the far wall, shattering it, bits of green and gold electronic plastic rained for a moment and scattered on the floor.
Alucard laughed again, in the same muted tone, inside of Anderson's head. "Father Maxwell won't be happy about that." It said. The priest pressed his hands to the sides of his head and stood up, feeling dizzy and bewildered. "Where are you!" his voice sounded ragged and desperate in his own ears. He felt hot breath on the back of his neck and spun to face his assailant-no one leered back at him. Now it was at his ear, it raised the hair on the back of his neck and froze him in place.
"Everywhere." It breathed into his ear and hissed and raised itself into a harsh laugh that stabbed into the Paladin's brain, reverberating in his skull in an endless, unfathomable echo that made his sensitive ears ring. The laugh became more maniacal, rising in pitch to a silent, maddened howling scream. Anderson grabbed at his head and cried out weakly in pain as he sank to his knees. This was the sound of a mind fracturing, of a man going insane-Alucard was trying to destroy him in another fashion altogether.
In desperation, he fumbled in his coat, blinded and numbed with the engulfing pain in his head, and pulled out a leaf of parchment and a silver- bladed knife. He stuck the paper on the end of the blade with badly shaking hands as he muttered incoherently, then drove the blade into his own chest, pinning the protective seal there. The screaming torture ceased immediately and left him shaking and panting until he'd sufficiently regained his wits.
He pulled the knife out of his chest and let it drop to the floor with an exhausted grunt. After the wound had stitched itself, he bent his head down and prayed.
Anderson checked out of the hotel the following morning and spent the day in the pubs until the sun had set. He had been slowly making his way toward Hellsing Manor; he wanted to give Alucard time to know he was coming. This would be the last time, he decided. If he could not kill the creature, then he would at least fight to his own death. Better that than to be euthanised in the Vatican labs like some sick, unwanted dog. The manor might prove a challenge, according to the last reports he'd read, the Hellsing membership had grown significantly, with an estimated 130 troops on active duty. Then there were the "special forces" to deal with. The female vampire and that damned butler-he'd read profiles on the supposed Angel of Death, but he was unsure of the true extent of the old man's ability. But, with them out of the way, he would be free to deal with Alucard and that Protestant bitch, Integra Hellsing without any subsequent interference. Anderson let his anger seethe and soak into himself slowly, cooling from rage to useful, hateful determination. His hand curled around the bent and broken frames of Alucard's glasses, still in his coat pocket from their encounter last night, and he crushed them just a bit more, finished his pint, and stood to be on his way again.
Alucard was waiting for him at the gates to the Hellsing mansion, red coat shoved back from his waist by his hands, tucked securely into his trouser pockets. He hadn't bothered with hat or glasses, and the wind whipped and played with the writhing black mass of his hair. A very slight smirk played at his lips. "So you've decided to accept my offer after all, Paladin? Shall I then say 'welcome home'?" The vampire stepped aside, making Anderson's path to the gates clear. The priest did not move, but kept the three meter distance between them, his arms thrust down stiffly at his sides, a blade between each finger. His lips moved in silent prayer. The monster finally broke their silence "Well, Catholic? What's the matter, can't make up your mind?" He grinned. "Shut your bastard gob, vampire." Anderson's voice had become unsteady, a think mask of calm overlaying his desperation. He lifted his arms in preparation for a charge. Alucard leaned against the stone brace of the gate, hands still in his pockets. "So. You came here to die, then. How pathetic. Your sad little existence will have meant nothing. No one will lament your passing and apart from a file locked in the belly of your precious Vatican, you will be forgotten. Just like the maggot vampires you destroyed. And where will your life be filed away, Father? Under "man" or "monster"?"
"One way or another, we're going to finish this. Stand up and fight me, damn you, or I'll-" The lanky priest narrowed his eyes and lowered his arms slowly, he would not be goaded into a rash charge. This whole affair was infuriating him! He had never taken his work so utterly personally, and it was defiantly interfering with his judgment. Alucard's smirking, face and impassive tone wormed their way into his brain and sat, gnawing at his resolve. He merely growled and stood waiting again.
Alucard laughed. "I see you've learned patience, Paladin." The vampire pulled one hand out of his pocket and pushed it through his misbehaving hair as he uncrossed his ankles and stood up from the wall. "Still, there's quite a lot more to be taught."
The sound of his phone ringing snapped him out of his revere and he fumbled to get it out of his pocket before his voicemail answered it for him. He didn't recognize the number on the caller ID, though he answered anyway.
"Anderson" He grunted into the phone.
"Hello, Father. I just thought you might like to know that my offer still stands." The voice on the other end of the line made the priest clench his hand reflexively, and the plastic casing of the cell phone cracked a bit. It was him of course. That damned monster.
"How the fuck did you get this number, demon!" he demanded, growling.
The voice laughed "Such language is unbefitting of a man of the cloth, wouldn't you say? And I didn't get the number. You're only talking to yourself. Your little toy isn't even on." Alucard's muted voice laughed again and Anderson pulled the phone away from his ear. The little digital display was blank. He pressed the power button and the phone lit up-rotating slowly on the screen was that familiar group of symboling that made up Alucard's seal. Got Mit Uns. Said the greeting. Anderson howled, enraged and flung the device against the far wall, shattering it, bits of green and gold electronic plastic rained for a moment and scattered on the floor.
Alucard laughed again, in the same muted tone, inside of Anderson's head. "Father Maxwell won't be happy about that." It said. The priest pressed his hands to the sides of his head and stood up, feeling dizzy and bewildered. "Where are you!" his voice sounded ragged and desperate in his own ears. He felt hot breath on the back of his neck and spun to face his assailant-no one leered back at him. Now it was at his ear, it raised the hair on the back of his neck and froze him in place.
"Everywhere." It breathed into his ear and hissed and raised itself into a harsh laugh that stabbed into the Paladin's brain, reverberating in his skull in an endless, unfathomable echo that made his sensitive ears ring. The laugh became more maniacal, rising in pitch to a silent, maddened howling scream. Anderson grabbed at his head and cried out weakly in pain as he sank to his knees. This was the sound of a mind fracturing, of a man going insane-Alucard was trying to destroy him in another fashion altogether.
In desperation, he fumbled in his coat, blinded and numbed with the engulfing pain in his head, and pulled out a leaf of parchment and a silver- bladed knife. He stuck the paper on the end of the blade with badly shaking hands as he muttered incoherently, then drove the blade into his own chest, pinning the protective seal there. The screaming torture ceased immediately and left him shaking and panting until he'd sufficiently regained his wits.
He pulled the knife out of his chest and let it drop to the floor with an exhausted grunt. After the wound had stitched itself, he bent his head down and prayed.
Anderson checked out of the hotel the following morning and spent the day in the pubs until the sun had set. He had been slowly making his way toward Hellsing Manor; he wanted to give Alucard time to know he was coming. This would be the last time, he decided. If he could not kill the creature, then he would at least fight to his own death. Better that than to be euthanised in the Vatican labs like some sick, unwanted dog. The manor might prove a challenge, according to the last reports he'd read, the Hellsing membership had grown significantly, with an estimated 130 troops on active duty. Then there were the "special forces" to deal with. The female vampire and that damned butler-he'd read profiles on the supposed Angel of Death, but he was unsure of the true extent of the old man's ability. But, with them out of the way, he would be free to deal with Alucard and that Protestant bitch, Integra Hellsing without any subsequent interference. Anderson let his anger seethe and soak into himself slowly, cooling from rage to useful, hateful determination. His hand curled around the bent and broken frames of Alucard's glasses, still in his coat pocket from their encounter last night, and he crushed them just a bit more, finished his pint, and stood to be on his way again.
Alucard was waiting for him at the gates to the Hellsing mansion, red coat shoved back from his waist by his hands, tucked securely into his trouser pockets. He hadn't bothered with hat or glasses, and the wind whipped and played with the writhing black mass of his hair. A very slight smirk played at his lips. "So you've decided to accept my offer after all, Paladin? Shall I then say 'welcome home'?" The vampire stepped aside, making Anderson's path to the gates clear. The priest did not move, but kept the three meter distance between them, his arms thrust down stiffly at his sides, a blade between each finger. His lips moved in silent prayer. The monster finally broke their silence "Well, Catholic? What's the matter, can't make up your mind?" He grinned. "Shut your bastard gob, vampire." Anderson's voice had become unsteady, a think mask of calm overlaying his desperation. He lifted his arms in preparation for a charge. Alucard leaned against the stone brace of the gate, hands still in his pockets. "So. You came here to die, then. How pathetic. Your sad little existence will have meant nothing. No one will lament your passing and apart from a file locked in the belly of your precious Vatican, you will be forgotten. Just like the maggot vampires you destroyed. And where will your life be filed away, Father? Under "man" or "monster"?"
"One way or another, we're going to finish this. Stand up and fight me, damn you, or I'll-" The lanky priest narrowed his eyes and lowered his arms slowly, he would not be goaded into a rash charge. This whole affair was infuriating him! He had never taken his work so utterly personally, and it was defiantly interfering with his judgment. Alucard's smirking, face and impassive tone wormed their way into his brain and sat, gnawing at his resolve. He merely growled and stood waiting again.
Alucard laughed. "I see you've learned patience, Paladin." The vampire pulled one hand out of his pocket and pushed it through his misbehaving hair as he uncrossed his ankles and stood up from the wall. "Still, there's quite a lot more to be taught."