The spiders all in tune,
The evening of the moon,
Dreams are made winding through my head.
It was hard to tell whether it was night or day, as the rain kept pouring down. The Vampires – it seemed – had gone on some long awaited holiday from their rampaging. This, in turn, gave Hellsing a long holiday.
What little Ceres had heard of Walter would be about the snuff films he was trying to decipher, as well as the one which had a special guest star of a Hellsing member. He had come to visit her once, and had asked about her overly pale complexion but she had only replied that it was the lack of anything besides the room.
She had shut her mind off to Alucard; but she doubted that he would try anyway. He was her master… And yet, he did not enforce any type of punishment upon her for disobeying him. Did he even care? Did she want him to?
Ceres stood under a leak, soaking wet. She had gone to help Walter and a few other Hellsing members to try and set up pots around the mansion to collect the water rather than the floor. All she could hear was Integra speaking quietly, yet angrily… Most likely speaking to Alucard. They always spoke. Was she jealous?
The dripping seemed to only amplify, as now the water was hitting empty steel pots. Yet this gave Walter and herself a chance to actually begin to mop up the pooled marble floors. Yet, even this did not deter her mind, as she tried to decipher the faint words of Alucard and Integra. How far off were they? 'Why can't I hear them?'
"Miss Victoria…" Walter said, as he wiped his brow. "You look deathly faint. Perhaps you should rest. I can handle the rest."
"I'm fine Walter, really. It's no trouble at all." She offered a half-smile, which was far less than she had planned it to be.
"Miss Victoria."
"Oh, alright." She gave a soft groan, before she set the mop down. In truth, she was tired… Extremely tired. But it was only to be expected; she wanted to starve herself, since she could see no feasible and painless way of 'killing' herself.
---
Once in her room, she found yet another bag of blood, and the pathephone sitting on a chair in the left corner. With great resistance, she opened the bag of blood, and quickly disposed of the crimson fluid into the toilet. There was a separate door to her right leading to the shower, and she used that wastebasket to discard of the bag.
She began to wind the box, over, and over again. The clicks and the whirs began again, and as the record turned, she placed the needle on the worn record. It began to play the same, haunting melody. Just the tune sent shivers up her spine, and she rubbed the goose bumps from her arms as she sat down onto the bed.
Alucard had not spoken to her since. Deep inside, she felt guilty for what she said to him. Yet… When she went down to his lair, blood was splayed everywhere. The vampire he had killed had suffered a bloody fate. Alucard had seemed only more sardonic after the invasion had ended, and the knights' departure.
She sighed, and shivered from the cold. Her body had grown weak from the starvation; and it was taking more tolls on her than she believed it could. She was in servitude to him – and it was killing her inside to resist what he asked, no, demanded her to do.
"Master…"
