Disclaimers: Hellsing is property of its owner/s.
Author's Note: This goes out to all those who e-mailed me to continue this story. Thank you for all the helpful reviews. More indirect discourse and less talk in this one.
False Prophesy Part VI: Helpless and Desperate by Blue Flame Burn
The Iscariots had a network inside England. That made it possible for them to have a web of safe houses in the Anglican territory. Inside one of them rested the special group of Rome's Thirteenth Division. It had been a long night and everyone wanted rest.
No one needed respite more than the battered and wrecked Alexander Anderson. This was the most horrific battle he had ever seen but perhaps his satisfaction comes with the idea of triumph over the most prized hunted of all vampire slayers in the world. Perhaps, this reprieve would be the most deserved so far since he had been a regenerating servant of Rome.
Perhaps the only man that equaled or probably surpassed Anderson's glee was Enrico Maxwell, the head of the Iscariots himself. Finally, after eons of having Hellsing Institution as the prime rival in the field of vampire slaying in the whole of Western Europe, he might have orchestrated the demise of Hellsing.
Maxwell sat alone inside the makeshift office in the Iscariot safe house. He just finished making a phone call to Rome describing the incidences of the past night. He had this jubilant and sinister sparkle in his eyes. His elbows rested upon the huge oak desk, fingertips of one hand touching that of the other. His chin rested on the locked thumbs. His image formed an authoritative triangle on the table, much like some mob boss contemplating. He thought about the implications of what had just transpired.
By far, his plan of re-forging the blade of Longinus' Spear was the most brilliant plans of all. It took a lot of persuasion for the Pope to finally consent to take this sacred relic from the treasury of the Church. But obtain it, he did. He had it melted down, forged again and had it used to slay the vilest vampire of all. No vampire could ever resist that. Even hell's own hound, Alucard, would be vanquished by such a sanctified blade. He had studied the ancient tomes and chronicles on vampires. Surely this plan would work. His verdict of Alucard's final days was a rough estimate but surely in more or less three days' time, that Hellsing pet would finally go back to hell, and Hellsing will fall with him.
He imagined Hellsing's disposition now. He imagined Alucard, the silver blade still sticking out of his gut, probably rendered unconscious. He imagined Sir Integra Hellsing's face, contorted in disbelief, anguish and confusion, mulling over the inevitable defeat that the Iscariots have finally dealt her.
Finally, Enrico Maxwell had something to feel triumphant about.
***
The sun has already reached its highest but nothing stirred inside the walls of the Hellsing mansion. Walter did not know where his master was but he did not bother looking for her at such a time. He knew that Integra wanted to be all by her lonesome when deeply troubled. After all those years in her service, Walter practically knew how Integra would act given any circumstance. He knew that Integra was searching for a solution on Alucard's dilemma this very moment. He would let Integra alone, but if things finally start to get desperate and the fire begins to scorch every hope Hellsing had, he would act, as the loyal servant he had always been.
***
It was noon and Celas usually spent this time dozing off in her coffin-like bed. She felt tired and weary but she could not put herself to rest or sleep. She was so concerned of her master that she paced all around her room just thinking about him. If she got sick of pacing she sat down on her bed and stared at the wall her master constantly phases in to surprise her with his presence. She can not stand it anymore. She had to do something. At least there could be something.
She did explore the mansion once or twice but she had not seen all the portions of the dungeons yet. She knew her master was somewhere there. She wanted to check him out. That was the least thing she could do.
She did not need any torch navigating through the corners, twists and turns of the dungeons. Her heightened senses took care of that. It took her a few minutes to find the proper opening to get to Alucard's lair. She knew she was close. She smelled the distinct scent of burning undead flesh. It was the same scent she inhaled when her throat got pierced by Anderson's blade some time ago. But this was so pungent it made her gag, her past humanness still plaguing her. However, this was her master's flesh, decaying and disintegrating from the holy blade's touch.
She saw a faint light just ahead. This was her master's lair. She braced herself for what she may see. She wanted to see her master but she did not want to see him in a horrible state. She took slow steps, confused with feelings of both eagerness and reluctance. She saw the door open. With a gentle step she made her way through the door.
"Master?" Celas whispered.
No response.
"Master? Oh master." Celas whispered under her breath as she saw her master, laying there, the sacred blade still impaled.
Her master was unconscious, no point in trying to talk with him. She just felt sick at every part of her undead being. Physically she can't be but her being seemed to shake and reverberate. Her soul wanted to scream in despair. She did not know what to do. All she could do was stare at Alucard's still body and nothing more. She was lost in utter despair. She just knelt beside her master and closed her eyes.
Not long after her lids shut, she heard steps coming. Startled, she stood up. Around the corner of her eye she saw Walter's lanky silhouette. She breathed a sigh. If there was another person in the Hellsing estate that she was comfortable with, it was Walter.
"I see you are looking after Master Alucard," Walter said. He had nothing with him.
"Uhm, I just checked if he's okay. Will he be all right?"
"I wish I could answer that question Miss Police Officer. I myself do not know what to do. I just wanted to see Master Alucard so I went down here."
"So."
"Yes?"
"So, we could not really do anything." Celas looked at Alucard's body with a look of dejection.
"We are all concerned for the betterment of Master Alucard and of the whole situation. All we can do is to wait. Sir Integra is looking for a solution, I am sure of that." "I just feel so. helpless." Celas shifted her eyes from her master to the cold and bare stone floor.
Walter could not say anything more.
***
Integra has been in the dark for hours. For hours she had been poring over every scroll, volume and tome on the Spear of Longinus and the legend of Alucard. She has known most of the information on Alucard that has been documented over the years but she could not quite find anything that may yield the answer to her dilemma.
Red-eyed from shedding tears and concentrating in the dark, Integra started to feel really desperate. Why? Why could she not find the answer to this question? She could not accept the fact that the moronic Catholic pigs had finally outsmarted her. She imagined Enrico Maxwell's sneering face in the dark. It made her blood boil with fury that she threw the largest volume she had pulled out from the shelves. The book landed far from the table.
But something became startling that Integra's anger subsided quickly. The dim light of the lamp she had been using illuminated the book's cover. At an angle, an inscription on the cover seemed to glow a dark but glimmering purple. She stood up, walked to the book and picked it up. Settling down again on the table she examined the book. She held it out by the lamp's soft glow, shifting the book's position just in case she would see the effect the light had.
The book's cover had no particular appeal at all. Bare and even without a printed letter or an etched lettering of the title. But she was positive that something did glow. After a few more trial positions she finally got the right angle for the light to hit it right. Something began to glow on the books cover.
Shifting the book slightly at an angle, the glow seemed to coat the cover of the book.
Integra was stunned by what the glowing title read. Inscribed on it with the magical lettering was the title - "The House of Hellsing: Prophesies."
To be continued.
Author's Note: This goes out to all those who e-mailed me to continue this story. Thank you for all the helpful reviews. More indirect discourse and less talk in this one.
False Prophesy Part VI: Helpless and Desperate by Blue Flame Burn
The Iscariots had a network inside England. That made it possible for them to have a web of safe houses in the Anglican territory. Inside one of them rested the special group of Rome's Thirteenth Division. It had been a long night and everyone wanted rest.
No one needed respite more than the battered and wrecked Alexander Anderson. This was the most horrific battle he had ever seen but perhaps his satisfaction comes with the idea of triumph over the most prized hunted of all vampire slayers in the world. Perhaps, this reprieve would be the most deserved so far since he had been a regenerating servant of Rome.
Perhaps the only man that equaled or probably surpassed Anderson's glee was Enrico Maxwell, the head of the Iscariots himself. Finally, after eons of having Hellsing Institution as the prime rival in the field of vampire slaying in the whole of Western Europe, he might have orchestrated the demise of Hellsing.
Maxwell sat alone inside the makeshift office in the Iscariot safe house. He just finished making a phone call to Rome describing the incidences of the past night. He had this jubilant and sinister sparkle in his eyes. His elbows rested upon the huge oak desk, fingertips of one hand touching that of the other. His chin rested on the locked thumbs. His image formed an authoritative triangle on the table, much like some mob boss contemplating. He thought about the implications of what had just transpired.
By far, his plan of re-forging the blade of Longinus' Spear was the most brilliant plans of all. It took a lot of persuasion for the Pope to finally consent to take this sacred relic from the treasury of the Church. But obtain it, he did. He had it melted down, forged again and had it used to slay the vilest vampire of all. No vampire could ever resist that. Even hell's own hound, Alucard, would be vanquished by such a sanctified blade. He had studied the ancient tomes and chronicles on vampires. Surely this plan would work. His verdict of Alucard's final days was a rough estimate but surely in more or less three days' time, that Hellsing pet would finally go back to hell, and Hellsing will fall with him.
He imagined Hellsing's disposition now. He imagined Alucard, the silver blade still sticking out of his gut, probably rendered unconscious. He imagined Sir Integra Hellsing's face, contorted in disbelief, anguish and confusion, mulling over the inevitable defeat that the Iscariots have finally dealt her.
Finally, Enrico Maxwell had something to feel triumphant about.
***
The sun has already reached its highest but nothing stirred inside the walls of the Hellsing mansion. Walter did not know where his master was but he did not bother looking for her at such a time. He knew that Integra wanted to be all by her lonesome when deeply troubled. After all those years in her service, Walter practically knew how Integra would act given any circumstance. He knew that Integra was searching for a solution on Alucard's dilemma this very moment. He would let Integra alone, but if things finally start to get desperate and the fire begins to scorch every hope Hellsing had, he would act, as the loyal servant he had always been.
***
It was noon and Celas usually spent this time dozing off in her coffin-like bed. She felt tired and weary but she could not put herself to rest or sleep. She was so concerned of her master that she paced all around her room just thinking about him. If she got sick of pacing she sat down on her bed and stared at the wall her master constantly phases in to surprise her with his presence. She can not stand it anymore. She had to do something. At least there could be something.
She did explore the mansion once or twice but she had not seen all the portions of the dungeons yet. She knew her master was somewhere there. She wanted to check him out. That was the least thing she could do.
She did not need any torch navigating through the corners, twists and turns of the dungeons. Her heightened senses took care of that. It took her a few minutes to find the proper opening to get to Alucard's lair. She knew she was close. She smelled the distinct scent of burning undead flesh. It was the same scent she inhaled when her throat got pierced by Anderson's blade some time ago. But this was so pungent it made her gag, her past humanness still plaguing her. However, this was her master's flesh, decaying and disintegrating from the holy blade's touch.
She saw a faint light just ahead. This was her master's lair. She braced herself for what she may see. She wanted to see her master but she did not want to see him in a horrible state. She took slow steps, confused with feelings of both eagerness and reluctance. She saw the door open. With a gentle step she made her way through the door.
"Master?" Celas whispered.
No response.
"Master? Oh master." Celas whispered under her breath as she saw her master, laying there, the sacred blade still impaled.
Her master was unconscious, no point in trying to talk with him. She just felt sick at every part of her undead being. Physically she can't be but her being seemed to shake and reverberate. Her soul wanted to scream in despair. She did not know what to do. All she could do was stare at Alucard's still body and nothing more. She was lost in utter despair. She just knelt beside her master and closed her eyes.
Not long after her lids shut, she heard steps coming. Startled, she stood up. Around the corner of her eye she saw Walter's lanky silhouette. She breathed a sigh. If there was another person in the Hellsing estate that she was comfortable with, it was Walter.
"I see you are looking after Master Alucard," Walter said. He had nothing with him.
"Uhm, I just checked if he's okay. Will he be all right?"
"I wish I could answer that question Miss Police Officer. I myself do not know what to do. I just wanted to see Master Alucard so I went down here."
"So."
"Yes?"
"So, we could not really do anything." Celas looked at Alucard's body with a look of dejection.
"We are all concerned for the betterment of Master Alucard and of the whole situation. All we can do is to wait. Sir Integra is looking for a solution, I am sure of that." "I just feel so. helpless." Celas shifted her eyes from her master to the cold and bare stone floor.
Walter could not say anything more.
***
Integra has been in the dark for hours. For hours she had been poring over every scroll, volume and tome on the Spear of Longinus and the legend of Alucard. She has known most of the information on Alucard that has been documented over the years but she could not quite find anything that may yield the answer to her dilemma.
Red-eyed from shedding tears and concentrating in the dark, Integra started to feel really desperate. Why? Why could she not find the answer to this question? She could not accept the fact that the moronic Catholic pigs had finally outsmarted her. She imagined Enrico Maxwell's sneering face in the dark. It made her blood boil with fury that she threw the largest volume she had pulled out from the shelves. The book landed far from the table.
But something became startling that Integra's anger subsided quickly. The dim light of the lamp she had been using illuminated the book's cover. At an angle, an inscription on the cover seemed to glow a dark but glimmering purple. She stood up, walked to the book and picked it up. Settling down again on the table she examined the book. She held it out by the lamp's soft glow, shifting the book's position just in case she would see the effect the light had.
The book's cover had no particular appeal at all. Bare and even without a printed letter or an etched lettering of the title. But she was positive that something did glow. After a few more trial positions she finally got the right angle for the light to hit it right. Something began to glow on the books cover.
Shifting the book slightly at an angle, the glow seemed to coat the cover of the book.
Integra was stunned by what the glowing title read. Inscribed on it with the magical lettering was the title - "The House of Hellsing: Prophesies."
To be continued.
