It was difficult to know what exactly to make of the child in her home, so Henrietta mostly left her to her own devices, save for when she nearly bumped into or injured herself while exploring the place—which was often. She had never had a reason to child-proof her home before and she had never really imagined that the girl would be so curious. She was always asking questions and for explanations of this and that and Henrietta would do her best to satiate her curiosity to the best of her ability but it never seemed to be enough. The child was like an endless pit for her attention, much to her surprise. Even more surprising was how she didn't seem to feel an ounce of fear for the other beings in that house despite noticing their fangs.
"Sophia" was the girl's name. That's all Henrietta got out of her. The girl didn't seem to know her own surname. Every evening she would wake up, choosing to sleep during the day as the others did. No matter what Henrietta was doing—whether she was making her rounds around the house to check on things, lounging and enjoying a moment of quiet, or balancing the accounts, Sophia followed her around like a little duckling, struggling to keep up with the woman's wide gait with her tiny legs. At first, the woman was irritated. She couldn't get a moment of privacy from the girl, it seemed, but it wasn't all bad.
Sometimes, her questions were a bit endearing. It was interesting to watch the gears in her head turning as she took in each answer. Then, when she used the knowledge she gained, it was even a bit rewarding. Plus, it was sort of nice to have someone to help her water the plants each evening, despite the fact that the girl's "help" always seemed to make things take more time rather than less. Henrietta had to help her carry the watering can because the girl's arms were too weak to hold it at the right angle without dropping it into the pot, but the girl always remembered just how much water each plant needed. Each night, she would ask to help in this task, even if she forgot first thing.
Eventually, however, the sight of the child got on Henrietta's nerves. Even though there was noticeably less dirt on her, her unkempt hair was still revolting to look at. Had no one thought to take care of this? Even after Henrietta set aside a brush and some shampoo for her? Rather, it seemed like it was being wash, yet the mats were still there. Honestly, it was a massive lack of oversight for Henrietta to even have to contemplate doing it herself.
"Men…" Miss Van Volkinburg shook her head as she stood in front of the mirror in her room. She was behind the chair that faced it with a pair of scissors in her hand. A stack of books sat piled in the seat with the girl sitting on top of them. Her legs dangled high above the floor, kicking back and forth while Henrietta snipped away with a foul look on her face. "How can they not notice this and think to do something about this? Why am I doing this? Hold still."
"Sorry…" the girl meekly replied, lowering her head, but the woman held onto the sides of it and tilted it back upwards.
"No, no, it isn't your fault. While little girls should definitely learn to brush their own hair, it's up to the adults around them to teach them and make certain they do it before it gets this bad. Moreover, it's their job to notice that there are massive mats in a child's hair and think: 'Hm, perhaps I should get rid of those?' You shouldn't feel guilty about the incompetence of others."
"'Incompertants?'" echoed Sophia.
"'Incompetence.' It means they're being stupid and bad at their job." Another snip and another tuft of hair fell by the wayside. A silence fell over them and then the girl pulled another question seemingly out of left field.
"Are you guys vampires?" she inquired, taking the woman behind her aback somewhat. Henrietta paused, trying to think of the best way to answer.
"Now, what makes you say that?" gently questioned the woman in response. "Look, you can see my reflection, can't you?"
"Yeah, but I can't in the living room mirror." the girl noted. "And you have fangs and you're awake at night… And you have red eyes and sleep in a coffin."
"A casket." Henrietta corrected.
"A basket?"
"'Casket.' A 'casket,' dear. It's a completely different shape."
"'Casket.'" Sophia repeated, echoing the woman's emphasis. The redirection wasn't enough to deter her, however. "So are you?"
"Am I what?"
"A vampire."
"Hm?" hummed Van Volkinburg, taking off another bit of hair. She set the scissors down on the vanity, leaning over the girl in order to do so. She picked up a brush and then stood upright again, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders before crouching down slightly so that Sophia could see her reflection in the mirror.
"And what if I am?" she questioned, offering the girl a smile. It was not a particularly nice smile. It looked sickly; like something was wrong with her eyes. She pulled her lips back, exposing her fangs. "Does that frighten you, Sophia? Spending time in a house full of vampires and having one cut your hair? Isn't that terrifying?"
"Not really."
Henrietta blinked. She was prepared for an answer, but any answer but that. It came out plainly, without fanfare or hesitation. "Really?" The woman's smile fell. "I drink blood, you know. Human blood. You're human. Isn't that scary?"
"Kind of? You're not scary, though. You're nice."
A scoff immediately escaped the woman at that. She stood upright again, raising the hand with the brush and holding the girl's hair with the other as she tried to remove the rest of her tangles. "Why, you're a very brave little girl, aren't you? And what if I were to decide to eat you, hm? What would you do then?"
"I don't care."
"What?" Suddenly, the woman's hands stopped, but the girl still casually kicked her feet back and forth in her chair without any mind paid to what she had just said.
"You're nice to me. You're a lot nicer than my real mum, so it's okay if you want to eat me."
It's not. It's really not. Henrietta knew that. This child should have known that. It was obvious, wasn't it? Did she even really know what she was saying? Did she really know what she was offering? Of course not. She was a child. She was a child so that thought shouldn't even cross her mind.
"Now, now…" Henrietta began softly as her throat tightened. She paused to swallow, but the lump was still there. "You musn't say things like that, Sophia." What was she even talking about? This was fine, wasn't it? That was the whole point, so wasn't this ideal? Henrietta had permission, so surely—surely it would be fine?
It wasn't, though. Henrietta knew that. Yet there they were.
"No?" Sophia questioned, looking up at her.
"No." the woman stated. "You shouldn't be alright with that."
Henrietta continued to gently brush the girl's hair, unable to shake the feeling of anger bubbling up from within her chest. Now, Henrietta never knew her own mother, given the circumstances of her birth. Carrying a vampire was hard on any mortal being's body, so she only knew her father, who only blamed her until the day he died, yet she still knew better. She knew that mothers were not meant to allow their children's hair to get in such a state; that they weren't to allow their children to be so trusting of strangers—vampires, for god's sake!-or to seek kindness from them in such a way. What coldness has the woman who birthed this child shown her that she declares a vampire whom she has only known for a few days to be "nicer?" Why? Just because she talked to her, watered plants with her, and cut her hair? The thought was utterly infuriating!-But oh-so terribly sad.
"Ow!"
Blinking, the woman was back in the room. "Oh! I'm sorry. Was that too hard?"
"It's alright…"
"I'll try to be more gentle." Henrietta said. Honestly, what was she even doing? "One should always apologise when one hurts someone else, even if they didn't mean to. And they should try not to do it again next time. It's good manners. Understand?"
"Yes, Miss Henrietta."
The woman was a bit taken aback by the use of her first name, but found that she didn't hate it. "I say, now that's a good girl. If you're going to stay in my house, I'm going to have to teach you how to be a proper young lady. No more messy hair. And we're going to need to get you some proper clothes. Mister Taylor is starting to complain about not having enough shirts."
The girl giggled, prompting the woman to involuntarily crack a smile. "Yes, Miss Henrietta!"
Sophia called her that until one day she didn't anymore. She had a short, cute, mop of curly hair by then and she no longer wore Mister Taylor's clothes. One day, she slipped and called the woman "Mum" and Henrietta didn't object. She felt no reason to. Anyone who would have had already left the house by then. It was mostly vacant by the time HELLSING agents started arriving at her door again, drawn in by its weakening and its lady's desperation to get them all out of it alive.
"And there you have it." she said to the Earl, sitting across from him in her living room. He and his associate patiently listened, with him nodding along thoughtfully as she wrapped things up. "That child now calls me her mother and I have lost my bite. Wherever she came from, my lord, I can't really say I care. I just know that she trusts me and I need to take care of her. That's all that matters, now. The tired posturing and intimidation doesn't feel real to me anymore. I can't muster the strength or even remember how I used to do it. It seems like some distant memory…"
"Believe me, I understand the feeling…" Ciel replied, staring down at his hands. On his left was his wedding ring and on his right index finger was his signet ring with the Phantomhive seal. Both felt like they should represent two opposing sides of himself, but the lines between them had become blurry. Both were him. Both were integral parts of "Phantomhive" even if the meaning of one had changed. His hands were even big enough so that the signet ring could only fit on his index finger—same as his father wore the original.
"Does it ever get easier?"
"What?"
"Being so… 'Good' all the time?" the woman questioned, her frown deepening as the man laughed. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing. I don't think it's ever truly 'easy,' but yes. It kind of does. Being 'good' or not is just a choice like any other. You have to choose it every day, though sometimes you just can't. Sometimes, it isn't the best choice and you have to be the bad guy and make that call. In terms of how to treat other people, however, and the sort of person I want to be? Yeah, it's gotten much easier. The reasons to keep choosing it keep piling up over time. For me, it started with Jim and for you, with Sophia, but there's always more that could come your way. It's… Nice, caring about others again. It's something I think I forgot how to do for a long time, but now I find that prefer it, overall."
"That's really not convincing at all, Sir." Claire thought to herself, having been subjected to the conversation for quite some time, now. As a bodygaurd on this mission, it wasn't her duty to speak up, however, so she merely sat quietly and waited for the other woman to call him out.
"I get you." Van Volkinburg replied, much to Claire's surprise. She just didn't understand it! She didn't understand these old-timers! Henrietta continued, however, maintaining her train of thought. "I'd prefer to do right by Sophie—in fact, that's what I really want to do. I don't think making her a ward of the state will do that, though, especially if they consider giving her back to her parents. If anything, those idiots are lucky I don't know where they are, because if I got my hands on them, I'd drain them of every last drop of blood in their pathetic little human bodies…"
"Understandable." sagely nodded the Phantomhive, prompting his associate to further question his credibility. Isn't that something a supernatural shouldn't say in front of a HELLSING agent? Furthermore, he shouldn't be agreeing! Yet he seemed completely sincere. "Personally, I know I'm capable of doing quite a few things to someone if my husband were to be hurt, so I can agree with you, there."
"'A lot…'" Henrietta scoffed. "You tore out Fangless Shaun's fangs on HELLSING orders, as I recall. I'd hate to see what you'd do when you have an actual reason to be upset!"
"I may have calmed down a lot in my old age, but despite it all, I'm still me."
Van Volkinburg still smiled, but it waned slightly, dimming in its brightness. She paused, puffing on her cigarette holder before blowing a cloud of smoke that blurred the air around her before slowly dissipating. "Is that so?" she questioned to seemingly no one in particular.
"Something on your mind?"
"Oh, just some tired musings and a bout of insecurity. I don't know you very well, but the 'you' in front of me now is almost wholly unrecognisable to the 'you' of a few decades ago. Tell me, what becomes of us when we settle down? When we leave the world of darkness behind? Do we take it with us, or is it all sunshine and rainbows from then on? I'm not sure if I can survive that."
"Neither am I, if I'm honest… Some days, I miss the old days a bit more, but I like what I have even better. I don't think I would be able to bear it if I wasn't also the Watchdog."
"Sadly, I'm not, so I fear I may be in trouble."
"Only if you make it so. Why are you quitting anyway, if it's that important to you? Surely you didn't become a coven head if you felt it was meaningless?"
"It wasn't at the time." Henrietta sighed. She didn't say anything for a while before finally asking a question, herself. "Do you read those papers in Gehenna? What's it called? The Gehenna… Gehenna…"
"The Gehenna Gazette?"
"Right! That's the one!"
"Of course. My husband reads them for work, so I end up with them when he's done."
"Then you've seen that little thinkpiece they published recently, didn't you? 'Is The End Of Covens Here?' or what have you? It's certainly gotten the other coven heads all flustered—I'm sure you understand. Tell me, Lord Phantomhive, what do you think the purpose of a coven is?"
"It's short for 'covenant.'" Ciel readily replied. "It's a group of people who vow to play by the rules of the group and support one another."
"Precisely. It's an important thing for vampires, you see—and witches, but they're not the ones being affected in our little hypothetical situation, here. Those who are bitten know nothing. They've seen movies, sure, but as to how to actually live and sustain oneself as a vampire? Without the proper know-how, one isn't going to last too terribly long. Even with our predation instinct, they'll just be gunned down by HELLSING once they get to the point of starvation. At that point, they've lost the reason to get away with it. That's why we need the support and knowledge of others who have lived unlives longer than ours—like a parent teaching a child."
"Of course. While the loss of human life occurs under that system, it is still fewer than masses of unaffiliated vampires roaming around." Ciel stated before holding up a hand. "That is not me condoning the practise, of course—it is just an observation of statistical data."
"I know what you meant." laughed the woman. "But you are indeed correct. HELLSING prefers this system to the alternative of mass unaffiliated vampires for this reason and for the simple fact that it makes us easier to track once we get out of line. So why is the coven system under threat? Something has clearly changed over the past few years to bring about such an idea. The simple fact is that vampires are needing to join covens less, you see, because of one reason."
The man watched as she held up a finger for emphasis, but stalled to follow her train of thought. He furrowed his brow, trying to understand her perspective, but instead, another voice chimed in in his place.
"Gehenna happened." Claire stated, meeting her superior's gaze once she captured the attention of the other two. Somewhat meekly, she slouched in her seat. "My apologies for speaking out of turn…"
"No, no… You are absolutely correct, my lycanthrope friend." Henrietta continued. "The creation of Gehenna in the place of the Supernatural Settlement Field Zero occurred. Suddenly, supernaturals have a place where they can find support and know-how with ease—not to mention the fact that blood donated by the non-vampiric residents is more than enough to sustain us. For most people, this is a much more preferable system. Murder makes most squeamish, after all. If one doesn't have to, why would you? Maybe things are just better this way…"
"Do you really feel that way?" Ciel questioned.
"I don't know how I feel. I don't know hardly anything anymore. I'm just speculating. I'm just… tired."
"I feel like I can understand that, too…" the Earl stated, crossing his arms. "What about your group? What will happen to them?"
"What about them? There's hardly anyone left." Henrietta scoffed before taking a particularly long drag of her cigarette. She watched as the woman sitting beside Ciel struggled not to make a face at the smell as she exhaled yet another cloud of smoke. "You remember the attack on the city back in the 90's?"
"The Millennium Incident?"
"Is that what HELLSING calls it?"
"I wasn't there… I… I missed it… I was on a mission abroad and didn't get back until everything was in shambles."
"Lucky you."
"What?" Ciel's fingers curled, threatening to form a fist as his first reaction, but he relaxed as he realised that perhaps she was right. Moreover, she didn't know about how it nearly ended him, so what was there to take offense to? Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. "I mean… Did you take some heavy hits?"
"You could say that, I suppose… We were very nearly wiped out. Strangely, it wasn't even HELLSING we had to worry about. Lord knows where on earth they were during all of this… Vampiric soldiers dressed in Nazi uniforms roamed the streets, carrying charred babies on pikes and they were nowhere in sight."
"They were being wiped out, themselves."
"That breaks my heart, truly…" Henrietta replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm and malice. "Those monsters didn't seem to discriminate between humans and vampires, but they weren't all. After the first wave, I managed to lead a majority of my coven out of their line of fire, when we were cornered by a bunch of humans dressed like priests."
"Iscariot…. They were there—on a 'crusade,' as the archbishop who called for the operation called it, killing humans and vampires alike as well."
"I didn't think they looked like HELLSING, but they wasted no time prattling on about God before mowing us down and leaving us scattered. It took years to track down survivors, but only about ten of us were left by the time dawn broke. Even after all of that, our bonds were still too weak to survive as a unit. After the creation of Gehenna and especially after Babyface died, many left, wanting a simpler life. And honestly? I don't blame them. I don't think they were wrong in the slightest. What good is a coven anymore, really? There's no one left, here. The last of them left a few months ago. It was actually a falling out over Sophie. I decided that I didn't want to kill her and that was apparently the last straw. I just couldn't do it anymore. I just… I couldn't bring myself to do it… I'm just not as strong as I used to be and that was the final nail in the coffin—if you'll excuse the expression… No one wants a leader who can't follow through. The Van Volkinburg coven is finished after a century in business. Sophie and Mister Taylor are all that's left. If I can't at least bring her with me, then I don't know what I'll do… I don't know what to do with him, either… I just… Don't know anymore…"
The others listened intently with Claire holding her tongue so that her superior could be the one to reply. He didn't, though. He was quiet for a very long time—so long that it gave the others pause to look at him. His body was tense and his gaze was completely affixed to the floor. "My lord?" Claire called out to him, causing life to return to his visible eye again as he was brought back into the room.
"I'm sorry." Turning to his associate, he apologised, though he didn't look at her directly. His voice was quiet and solemn. Turning to the other woman, he addressed her as well. "My apologies, Henrietta. I didn't mean to be rude. I was listening, I assure you."
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"Just… A memory…" he stated, keeping his arms firmly crossed. "We're a lot alike, it seems… More than I realised. I returned shortly after the attack to find everything in ruins. Everything was gone. HELLSING, which was my only driving force at the time was in shambles. An important ally had apparently betrayed us during the attack and was killed. Everything—everything was gone." He shook his head. "Never before had I known such despair... I had staved it off for as long as I could,-I had hope; and when I didn't have hope, I had purpose; and when I didn't have purpose, I had violence; but after all that… There was nothing. I nearly burned down what remained just to feel a glimmer of something, even though I know that would have been the end of it all—myself included. It was one of the most frightening things I have ever experienced."
Placing her cigarette holder up to her lips, the woman inhaled, leaning back in her chair until she was staring straight up at the ceiling. Then, she blew more smoke in a tired sigh. "Ah, the call of the void…" she said aloud, hardly to anyone in particular. "It seems despite our immortality, when our sort gets to a certain age, we start to hear it… I've been wanting to burn this place down, myself, actually. That's why I called HELLSING here. Not exactly for oblivion this time, but to rid myself of the heartache of running a coven once and for all."
"I know." Ciel stated.
"You didn't catch the 'this time,' did you?"
"I did."
"You aren't curious?"
"No. I know already. I realise it now—a bit late, but I understand."
"But you didn't do it, did you? No matter how I provoked you, you didn't do it." Henrietta's voice was soft as she spoke with a sadness that Ciel knew well.
"I suppose I just wasn't ripe for that sort of destruction yet. Sorry to say, but that's the only explanation I can think to offer you. It didn't seem worth killing you, somehow. I just wanted to go home and sulk that day. That said, if we crossed paths on that day in 1999, I would have added you to the pyre without a second thought."
"Funny how that works out, isn't it?" the woman laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh. It was more because there was nothing else to do. "I say… We're certainly old, aren't we?"
"Indeed. I once had a comrade who would say that growing old is a traditional past-time for English gentlemen., although I can't say I much agree with the notion."
"Of course a man would say that."
"Well, he's also dead, a traitor, and ultimately didn't believe it, himself, so perhaps its best to take his wisdom with a grain of salt."
The way the woman was abruptly hit with that information forced a genuine laugh out of her at last. "Oh, good lord…" she chuckled. She didn't think she had the energy for it right then, but she somehow did. "Now here we are at another crossroads, aren't we? The devil and I… I don't want that bleak nonsense anymore. My coven is gone and there's no need for one anymore, but I still have people who rely on me. I'm afraid I can't let them down, you see."
"I think it's wonderful that you've found someone. Before you know it, you'll be finding more and more people as you go—at least, in my experience. I truly hope you find a nice place in Gehenna or Pyestock for you to stay in."
"It would be nice, but unless I can take Sophia with me, I'm afraid it can't happen. I'll never agree to HELLSING's terms if I have to leave her behind. She can't go back to where she came from and I certainly don't want her to end up in some sort of home. Sophia stays with me or we both stay here. You can't convince me otherwise."
"I wasn't trying to." Ciel replied, unfolding his arms at last and folding his hands on top of his knee. "I was going to see if I can offer you something perhaps a little underhanded."
"Of course you would…" the woman scoffed. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"
"I know a guy in-" The Earl had begun his sentence smugly, but his confidence abruptly vanished—rather, his attention shifted. Furrowing his brow, he looked over his shoulder toward the window, much to the confusion of his host. Henrietta's eyes stayed focused on him as she anxiously waited for him to finish his sentence, only to spot movement next to him. The rather severe-looking woman next to him had followed his gaze, placing a hand on the handle of her sword.
"What is it, Sir? Is something there?" Claire questioned, only to get her answer with the sound of shattering glass.
Ciel leaned to the side, allowing the object that cam flying through the window behind him to pass him by, only to land between the group with a loud crash. Dirt and shards from the clay pot from the garden blasted apart on impact, staining Van Volkinburg's carpet. Furrowing her brow, she looked from the pot to the window and stood, joined by the Phantomhive as he tugged on the ends of his blazer to smooth out any wrinkles.
"I take it you didn't invite any guests?" he questioned the vampiress.
"Certainly not! Just look at what they've done to my carpet!" The woman angrily huffed before jabbing the air with her cigarette holder, pointing behind the HELLSING agents. "And just look at my window! They've broken another one! Do you have any idea how much replacing them costs?!"
"Sounds like you ought to move…"
"Quiet, you! I don't want to hear it right now!"
"Be that as it may, we've got a right problem on our hands…" Ciel stated, turning his attention to his associate. "Claire."
"Yes, Sir!" barked the faoladh, standing at the ready.
"It appears that it's finally your time to shine. Please be certain to give our new friends a warm welcome once they breach, will you? How do you say it? 'Gao go gae?'"
"No offense, Sir, but it's best if you do it with your whole chest. It's a battle cry, after all."
"I'm sorry, I'm not very used to Gaelic."
"It isn't Gaelic; it's actually Latin, I think?"
"Really? I'm fluent, but I've never heard of it."
"I don't care what on Earth it is!" growled Van Volkinburg, causing the other woman to blush as she was caught slacking. "I care about the hooligans in my garden!"
"Right! So sorry!" Claire replied, facing the window again with her hand on her weapon.
Reaching behind him, the Earl rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, that's right... You're not one for small talk during battle situations, are you, Lady Whelan? I guess I'm so used to fighting with Jim, that I hadn't thought about that… Terribly sorry about that."
Without a moment of pause the rest of the window shattered, much to Henrietta's dismay, as two of the hooligans in her yard came crashing through. They didn't look like much. They were dressed like typical delinquents, but they came baring their fangs. In a flash, one of them gained a new accessory as Claire unsheathed her blade. She brought it crashing down over the head of the one nearest to her, striking him with such force that the weapons went clean through his skull and neck before lodging itself firmly in the poor vampire's sternum. Raising her leg, she pressed against his chest with her boot and shoved him off, allowing him to fall to the floor.
More came through the window as the second one advanced. In a small blaze of black flame, a shot rang out, taking out a large chunk of the intruder's head. "There's a lot of them." Ciel stated, taking aim toward the window and firing again. "Several vampires and quite a few ghouls. I was careless to not sense them earlier…"
"Aren't you a bit too relaxed?!" Henrietta gawked as more and more blood soaked into her carpets.
"My senses aren't as sharp as my husband's." he shrugged. "Do you happen to have a plan in place in case of emergencies?"
"Why, kill as many as we can until they withdraw, of course!"
"They're heading around the side of the house." the man informed. "Claire, do you have things covered, here?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Then Henrietta and I will cover other areas."
"And why, pray tell, are you the one calling the shots, here?" questioned the vampiress. "This is my house."
"If you want to leave Sophia exposed, then by all means, stay put." Producing another magazine, Ciel reloaded his gun and headed toward the door into the hallway. There, however, his frown deepened as he heard the sound of fingernails scrapping against the front door. Turning his head toward the entryway, he didn't even flinch as the small windows on either side of the door shattered.
"What was that?" Henrietta questioned as she appeared behind him in the doorway, only to follow the man's finger as he pointed. Stiff arms and grasping hands reached through the windows, but the openings were too small for any of the creatures to slip past. Gnarled creatures, with vacant, glowing, red eyes stared back at them. Their expressions were twisted in a grotesque mockery of life as nothing remained of the humans that they once were. All that was left were the undead husks left behind by the vampires controlling them.
"Ghouls…" the woman hissed, wrinkling her nose at the abhorrent display. "If we can kill all of the vampires in their group, they should stop as well."
A loud bang pounded against the front door. The sound of groaning was punctuated by the commotion of Claire painting Henrietta's front room red behind them. Then, the Earl sighed and pulled out his mobile phone.
"The house can't be saved." he said matter-of-factly.
"What?!"
"Ordinarily, this would be no problem. We would just hack at them until they're gone, but we're in tight quarters, here, and the more we fuss about saving the house, the less effective we'll be. I don't think the house will make it."
"We can't even try to save it?! What good is HELLSING, then if you can't even save a measly hou-"
"It's either the house or the girl."
"I-" Henrietta stammered before stopping herself. She tried to look defiant, but the banging and clawing at the door caused a strange wave of acceptance to wash over her. "We have to save Sophia and Mister Taylor."
"Excellent. With your consent established, we can get to work." the man said as he kept typing.
"Are you calling for backup? You do realise that your troops might just shoot at us as well as they'll shoot at the ghouls, yes?"
"I do. That's why I'm not calling them directly. I really didn't want to get him involved, but he's my best man." With one last button press, Ciel slipped the device back in his pocket. "There… He's going to be very cross with me, but he'll come running, regardless."
"You called loverboy for help?"
"He's vicious—Pretty, but absolutely vicious."
The scraping of fingernails against the door followed by the low thudding of reanimated bodies bumping and pushing one another into it grew louder, prompting the Earl to move. "Right. Your daughter's upstairs, then?" he questioned, moving past her and heading further into the house, but the woman remained where she stood, staring intently at the door while taking a long drag of her cigarette. "What are you doing?"
"Spiritus." she exhaled, releasing a sweet-smelling cloud of smoke in the direction of the door. It's purple tint made the man take pause and watch as the ghouls continued to stir, only for the arms reaching and grasping in the shattered windows to lower. They still moved as they were shoved forward by the ghouls behind them, but for the most part, they were still—just as they should be.
"That should buy us some time." she remarked before flouncing toward the stairs after the Earl before overtaking him and leading the way. "It's temporary, so we need to move quickly."
"What did you do?" Ciel questioned, following after her.
"Just confused them a little bit. They're under orders from the vampire that bit them to attack everyone inside, more than likely, but I told them essentially that there's nobody home. Once the smoke clears, it'll be business as usual and that door probably won't hold."
"That's alright. We'll escape through the windows, if necessary."
"And your friend?"
"She's the leader of an elite force of lycanthrope HELLSING agents. She'll manage." At that moment, however, Ciel's eye widened and his brow furrowed. He placed a hand on the woman's back and pushed. "Henrietta! Move! I can sense them upstairs! They're about to breach!"
The woman said nothing, so he pushed again, only to lose his footing when he was met with no resistance. There was no body for him to push against. Instead, his hand moved right through her as she transformed into a cloud of smoke. His eyes widened as he caught himself, staring upwards at the thick fog as it twisted and fell in on itself while moving up the stairs. Legends of vampires being able to turn into mist have been pervaisive for centuries, but in all of his one-hundred and forty-two years of life, he had never actually seen it despite having met countless vampires. He quickened his pace, following Henrietta to the next floor and rounding the corner to see the smoke slipping through the cracks in doors before retreating and moving on to the next.
"Henrietta! It's the next one!" he called out, just as a crash sounded out in the room followed by a scream.
The door flung open, breaking off it's hinges and falling to the floor with a clatter. Mister Taylor slammed into the railing behind it, scrunching his face and gritting his teeth as none of them were really certain if the loud crack that sounded on the impact was wood or bone. Struggling to gather his wits about him, he put up his hands as a second man came barreling through the door after him, pouncing with fangs bared. The human servant wasn't strong enough to fight off his attacker, but did his best. Ciel aimed his gun, trying to get a clear shot so that he wouldn't hit the man while the cloud of smoke that lingered near the doorway formed the shape of a person.
Henrietta's hand matierialised first, grabbing the intruder by the scruff of his neck and effortlessly hoisted him off the ground. With a snarl, she hurled him over the railing, smashing a picture frame and a table on his way down. Taking this opportunity, Ciel corrected his aim and shot downward, killing the vampire before he could even think about climbing back up the stairs.
In response, Mister Taylor took up a tone that was very unbefitting of an employee to his employer. "Ma'am! Get Sophie!" he barked, prompting her to spin around.
Inside the room, she saw the girl right away. By some miracle, she looked unharmed, but tears stained her cheeks as she wiggled in yet another intruder's grasp. The sight of the two of them made the woman's blood boil. The smirk he wore and the way he mistreated her daughter made her want to rend his head from his neck, but she couldn't move. If she did, he might just do the same to Sophia.
"Hey, there, 'Boss…'" the intruder greeted. He was wearing a baggy suit with his hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Long time, no see."
"Let her go, Gene." Henrietta ordered, pointing her cigarette holder at him. The end sparked before becoming a roaring flame. He could see it flickering with the hate already in her eyes. "You let her go right now, or I swear I'll-"
The intruder said nothing and merely held the girl in front of him. "You'll what?" he asked, prompting the woman to lower her arm and let the fire fizzle out.
"Ha! You're so weak!" he scoffed. "Seriously, you get a little potato full of snot and blood and you just lose all will to fight. It's pathetic, really. I can't believe how far you've fallen."
"What do you want?" Henrietta questioned. "I've got nothing to give you. You've already destroyed my house and I'm not a coven leader anymore, so what's the point?"
"The 'point' is that you need to wake up, already. Stop talking about giving 'them' and edge and get back to business. Listen, I get being the boss is hard, but you're good at it! People need you."
"You don't need me." she said. "I get that we met when you were a young thing, but you're a grown man, now, Gene. If you want to go gallivanting around, making hives instead of covens, then by all means, do so! Just leave me out of it."
"Hives are easy to make. Any vampire can do it. What's hard is covens and that is where I need you. You don't have to be the boss, but are you really just gonna let those pieces of shit waltz in here and take what's ours?! Everything you've done—everything you've ever worked for; just gone! All of it! And for what? This thing?" He shook the girl for emphasis, causing her to cry out.
"Mummy!" Fresh tears began to steam down the girl's cheeks again, causing the woman's stomach to drop.
"It's alright, sweetie." she cooed, softening her voice. "Mummy's going to get you! It's going to be alright!"
"God…" Huffed the intruder, clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. "'Mummy?' You're 'mummy,' now? Fuck, that's…" Exhaling, his shoulders dropped somewhat before he turned his attention back to the woman, his smile completely gone.
"Fine." he continued. "If you won't come to your senses on your own, I'll make you see reason!"
Turning his back to the woman with the child still in his arms, he rushed toward the open window and leapt through it. The groaning of ghouls reaching our their arms droned beneath him as Henrietta ran after him. Without a moment to think, she crossed over the windowsill, catching a glimpse of him standing on the wall on the other side of the garden as she fell.
She misjudged the trajectory. He wasn't leaping into the crowd, he was leaping over it. Henrietta just realised it too late. Then, as she was hurdling back down toward the earth, he hopped down over the garden wall, leaving her falling into the open arms of the horde below. Taking a deep breath, she let herself dissolve. Her voice and her body were carried on the air.
"Spiritus!" For a moment, she was translucent before she became nothing but smoke. Her form was blown away by the wind as she traveled through the night sky, drifting swiftly in the direction of her daughter and her captor and leaving the Earl and her home behind.
"Henrietta!" Ciel called out, bracing himself on the windowsill with his hand and forcing himself to stop just short of it. He prepared himself to jump after her, knowing he could make it over the crowd without having to fight his way through, only to hear a loud crash and the sound of splintering wood downstairs.
He turned back to face the door, seeing Mister Taylor still laying against the railing. The servant peered through the bars with a horrified look on his face and started to scramble to his feet as the sound of groaning grew even closer. "Uh-uhm… Lo-Lord Phantomhive?"
Ciel could catch them. He knew he could. Henrietta was the one who was really valuable, after all, and Jim would be there soon. The mission should be his number one priority, especially since he messed up the baronet's previous endeavour. The Earl looked back out the window again, watching as the cloud of smoke drifted further and further out of view. With a heavy heart, however, he knew what he needed to do.
A/N: I don't know why I like writing about old people talking about their problems so much. It's just neat. Believe it or not, it was actually the latter part where shit hits the fan that was harder to write! I'm still working out the wrinkles when it comes from getting from point A to point B. I'm sorry this is taking so long. I promised an earlier chapter last time, but it just didn't happen...
After all that, I'm really sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger. That's kinda crappy of me, but I needed to do a hard transition to the next scene and I didn't want to take another week to write this!
Anywho... The only other new and exciting thing that happened recently was that I went to a friend's place and we all played Bayonetta 3... It was probably one of the worst games I've seen in a long time. Like, if you're familiar at all with the series, I want you to imagine a Bayonetta that doesn't have fun and doesn't really flirt... She's not haughty or confident and she hardly ever smiles... Among other bland, boring, concepts mixed in with cursed bullshit that isn't even interesting beyond being infuriating. Just so, up-it's-own-ass serious all the time, and the ending? Hoo, boy, the goddamn ending? Fuck that noise. Also, they got rid of 90% of established lore and honestly? What is even the point? Anyway, I complained about it heavily on tumblr, but I'm still mad about it! The TL;DR of it is: "Why did they make it a Bayonetta game if they didn't want to make a Bayonetta game?"
For my own health, I'm going to just leave it at that...
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!