Matthew sighed and hit 'send', waiting for message to leave the out box
before standing and flopping onto the nearby bed. It had been exactly one
week since the night his life had abruptly changed. One whole week, and he
was no closer to figuring out any of the questions his mind had given him.
The only thing he'd been able to guess was how typing that e-mail would
make him feel, incredibly depressed.
The 19-year old Matthew Jemeth used to have blue-green eyes, but recent events had replaced that color with red. He had dark-brown hair with a gray streak, genetically caused. He was somewhat muscular, having been working out for most of that year, but he still had a ways to go to get to what he wanted. For the moment, at least, he wore glasses. 'Never can know just what's going to change about me,' he thought. As he lay on his bed, he wore a pair of blue jeans and a red t-shirt. On a chair by the door hung a jacket with a denim vest and fabric sleeves, recently modified with a pair of shields; one on its left breast and one high on its left sleeve. They each bore the coat of arms of the Hellsing organization, the group he was essentially forced to join after being turned into a vampire.
He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, trying once again to answer just one of the questions running through his mind. He didn't get far before a knock at the door interrupted his thinking. A good thing too, trying to answer his questions simply made him feel worse. He looked to the door then made sure his eyes were dry. "Come in."
The door slowly opened, and a person entered: the pretty young woman with the red eyes. Now that his mind was no longer clouded, Matthew could get a good look at her. She was young, no older then about 20 and probably closer to 19. She had reddish-blond hair, lightly tanned white skin, and wore a blue police style uniform... well, almost. The miniskirt didn't really help with the police image. As with his jacket, the uniform bore the coat of arms of the Hellsing organization at its left breast pocket and left sleeve. Along with that, she wore black, thigh high boots and white gloves. She had a kind face and an expression which suggested a kind person. Certainly not like the classic sinister vampire image he'd known in the past. "Hello, Matthew." She had a British accent, an accent Matthew had found pleasant in years past. He didn't know her name yet. As no one had intruded on him in the past week he figured something was going on. So, why not ask?
Matthew sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Hey. What's going on?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. It's just that you haven't been out of your room all week except for once, talking to Integra about your computer."
He looked directly at her. Matthew had just spoken with the group's leader; a woman named Integra Wingates Hellsing. Sir Integra, she'd been knighted by the Queen, had been the one to give Matthew permission to send e-mail. "You knew?" His tone was not angry or accusing, just curious.
She nodded. "I figured you had had enough time to sit and think. Do you want to talk about what has happened? It might help."
Matt fell back onto the bed, thinking a moment. He sat back up. "Actually, I haven't even begun to figure it all out, but talking might help." He gestured to a chair in his spartan room. "Please, sit." As she sat, he already knew the first question he wanted to ask. "You know, I never did ask you. What's your name?"
She settled into her chair and looked at him. "Seras. Seras Victoria."
"Seras," he repeated, letting the name roll through his head. "Nice name." She smiled, and he continued on. "How long have you been... You know..."
"A vampire?" At his nod, she said, "a few months now."
"How'd it happen to you?" If he could figure out how she dealt with the change, maybe he could find a way to deal as well.
"In much the same way as to you. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She sighed, her eyes slipping back into memory. "My squad was sent in to deal with a disturbance, but no one happened to tell us the man we were looking for was a vampire. My squad was killed, and I found myself a hostage of the vampire. From there, what happened to you happened to me."
"Have you come to grips with it? The change?"
"Mostly, yes. Took a little while, but my master helped some."
Matt tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "Your master?"
She flinched, as if caught doing something wrong. "Sorry. I mean Alucard. He's my, now, former master."
Matt's head stayed where it was. "Master?"
The continued expression drew a chuckle out of Seras. "It's a little complicated. I'll tell you later."
Matthew righted his head and lowered the eyebrow. "Ok, that works."
"I have a question for you, if you don't mind." Matthew gestured for her to continue. "Well, two. First the easy one: have they fixed the bed to your liking?"
When he'd arrived, the bed had been more like a coffin, with a lid held above the bed by four columns which would lower onto the bed when a button was hit, more in keeping to standard vampires. He'd not liked that one bit, and had actually gone as far as to disable its lowering mechanism. On the way back from talking with Integra, a man named Walter asked him if he was settling in. When he'd mentioned the bed, he said they would fix it. Since then, a team came in to replace the bed with a more conventional one. "Yeah, they did. It helped a lot."
"Good. Now the more difficult one. Did you drink the medical blood I had sent here?"
Matthew slumped slightly. "No, I didn't. It didn't feel right to drink it."
Seras nodded. "I understand. I felt the same way. I had to watch Alucard drink someone's blood before instinct overrode that feeling. Take my advice: drink it. If you go much longer you'll be helpless if you're attacked. And trust me, you will be."
Flopping back onto the bed, Matt said ruely, "Well that sounds pleasant."
"Hmm..." Matt looked at Seras, who seemed to be considering something. "Have you ever shot a gun?"
Matt nodded. "I used to shoot semi-regularly, but I'm a little out of practice. It's been a couple years since I had the chance."
Seras smiled. "Then I think I know something that might cheer you up a bit."
::A Few Minutes Later::
Matt heard it about a hallway or so before he actually saw it: a shooting range. He looked at Seras, who had served as escort through the facility, a smile forming on his features; his first smile in some time. "You have a shooting range here."
Seras nodded, her face showing she was happy he was feeling better. "Shall we?" She gestured to a door. Matthew nodded, and nearly ran to open the door.
Once inside, he grabbed the needed ear protection and looked over what was available. 'Hmm', he thought, 'A Walther P99. 9 mil. Good warm-up.' He grabbed one of the pistols and a few magazines of ammo. Setting up at a lane, he checked the distance to the target: fifty meters. 'About fifty yards. If I'm lucky, I'll get close to the center. That's ok. With time I'll work up my accuracy.' Sliding the first magazine into the pistol, he checked the range to make sure he wasn't the only one shooting, checked the safety, took aim at the man shaped target, and squeezed the trigger. The gun fired, and a hole appeared in the target. Matt froze, then stared at the gun in disbelief. "The hell...?"
A soldier in a nearby lane looked at Matt's target, then at Matt. "Nice shot, lad. Right through the heart. Wanna aim for that or the head."
Seras stepped up beside him. "Something wrong?"
Matthew set the gun on the table, and looked at the target, pointing to the hole in the target's heart. "A perfect shot at fifty yards on the first try. I've never done that before." He then looked at the gun. "And that gun had barely any recoil. It felt more like a .22 then a 9 mil." He looked over at Seras. "Perk of being a vampire?" At her nod, he looked back at the gun. "Well, damn. I liked the recoil of 9 mil."
"How about something bigger?"
Matthew looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She smiled, and pointed toward the back of the range. There, on a table, was a rifle larger then any he'd ever shot. He looked at her disbelieving. "That one?" She nodded and he walked over to it, lightly chuckling. "What is it?"
"A 50 caliber sniper rifle."
He walked around behind the rifle and looked at Seras. "A 50 caliber sniper rifle. I don't think I could even lift..." He trailed off as he grabbed the gun and easily yanked it from the table. "Huh?" Seras was on the verge of laughing out loud. Matt looked at her. "What?"
She got control of her breathing, then spoke. "That's almost the same reaction I had to that gun."
He tilted his head in question. "You shot this?" She nodded, giving an 'uh huh' response. "Well, when in Rome..." He grabbed a 50 caliber round from the table, he set up at his lane. He slid the bullet into the rifle and locked the bolt closed. He looked to those nearby, watching the newcomer fiddle with a gun almost longer then he. "Y'all might want to step back. I don't know how much this is gonna kick." Heeding his warning, the perimeter around him increased a bit. He took aim at the target's head, fired, and a positively huge hole appeared in the center of the target's forehead. Matthew set the rifle down and stood, rubbing his shoulder. "Ow."
Seras approached, looking concerned. "You ok?"
Matt nodded. "Yeah. Good pain. It's supposed to hurt. I think I've had enough for one day." He hefted the rifle and started to move to set it where he got it.
"I'll get it. You head back to your room and I'll meet you there, ok?"
He looked back at her. "Umm... Ok." He slid open the bolt of the rifle, and the brass cartridge leapt out as it was extracted from the rifle. He caught the brass and set down the rifle. "I'm keeping this. See you in a bit."
The 19-year old Matthew Jemeth used to have blue-green eyes, but recent events had replaced that color with red. He had dark-brown hair with a gray streak, genetically caused. He was somewhat muscular, having been working out for most of that year, but he still had a ways to go to get to what he wanted. For the moment, at least, he wore glasses. 'Never can know just what's going to change about me,' he thought. As he lay on his bed, he wore a pair of blue jeans and a red t-shirt. On a chair by the door hung a jacket with a denim vest and fabric sleeves, recently modified with a pair of shields; one on its left breast and one high on its left sleeve. They each bore the coat of arms of the Hellsing organization, the group he was essentially forced to join after being turned into a vampire.
He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, trying once again to answer just one of the questions running through his mind. He didn't get far before a knock at the door interrupted his thinking. A good thing too, trying to answer his questions simply made him feel worse. He looked to the door then made sure his eyes were dry. "Come in."
The door slowly opened, and a person entered: the pretty young woman with the red eyes. Now that his mind was no longer clouded, Matthew could get a good look at her. She was young, no older then about 20 and probably closer to 19. She had reddish-blond hair, lightly tanned white skin, and wore a blue police style uniform... well, almost. The miniskirt didn't really help with the police image. As with his jacket, the uniform bore the coat of arms of the Hellsing organization at its left breast pocket and left sleeve. Along with that, she wore black, thigh high boots and white gloves. She had a kind face and an expression which suggested a kind person. Certainly not like the classic sinister vampire image he'd known in the past. "Hello, Matthew." She had a British accent, an accent Matthew had found pleasant in years past. He didn't know her name yet. As no one had intruded on him in the past week he figured something was going on. So, why not ask?
Matthew sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Hey. What's going on?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. It's just that you haven't been out of your room all week except for once, talking to Integra about your computer."
He looked directly at her. Matthew had just spoken with the group's leader; a woman named Integra Wingates Hellsing. Sir Integra, she'd been knighted by the Queen, had been the one to give Matthew permission to send e-mail. "You knew?" His tone was not angry or accusing, just curious.
She nodded. "I figured you had had enough time to sit and think. Do you want to talk about what has happened? It might help."
Matt fell back onto the bed, thinking a moment. He sat back up. "Actually, I haven't even begun to figure it all out, but talking might help." He gestured to a chair in his spartan room. "Please, sit." As she sat, he already knew the first question he wanted to ask. "You know, I never did ask you. What's your name?"
She settled into her chair and looked at him. "Seras. Seras Victoria."
"Seras," he repeated, letting the name roll through his head. "Nice name." She smiled, and he continued on. "How long have you been... You know..."
"A vampire?" At his nod, she said, "a few months now."
"How'd it happen to you?" If he could figure out how she dealt with the change, maybe he could find a way to deal as well.
"In much the same way as to you. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She sighed, her eyes slipping back into memory. "My squad was sent in to deal with a disturbance, but no one happened to tell us the man we were looking for was a vampire. My squad was killed, and I found myself a hostage of the vampire. From there, what happened to you happened to me."
"Have you come to grips with it? The change?"
"Mostly, yes. Took a little while, but my master helped some."
Matt tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "Your master?"
She flinched, as if caught doing something wrong. "Sorry. I mean Alucard. He's my, now, former master."
Matt's head stayed where it was. "Master?"
The continued expression drew a chuckle out of Seras. "It's a little complicated. I'll tell you later."
Matthew righted his head and lowered the eyebrow. "Ok, that works."
"I have a question for you, if you don't mind." Matthew gestured for her to continue. "Well, two. First the easy one: have they fixed the bed to your liking?"
When he'd arrived, the bed had been more like a coffin, with a lid held above the bed by four columns which would lower onto the bed when a button was hit, more in keeping to standard vampires. He'd not liked that one bit, and had actually gone as far as to disable its lowering mechanism. On the way back from talking with Integra, a man named Walter asked him if he was settling in. When he'd mentioned the bed, he said they would fix it. Since then, a team came in to replace the bed with a more conventional one. "Yeah, they did. It helped a lot."
"Good. Now the more difficult one. Did you drink the medical blood I had sent here?"
Matthew slumped slightly. "No, I didn't. It didn't feel right to drink it."
Seras nodded. "I understand. I felt the same way. I had to watch Alucard drink someone's blood before instinct overrode that feeling. Take my advice: drink it. If you go much longer you'll be helpless if you're attacked. And trust me, you will be."
Flopping back onto the bed, Matt said ruely, "Well that sounds pleasant."
"Hmm..." Matt looked at Seras, who seemed to be considering something. "Have you ever shot a gun?"
Matt nodded. "I used to shoot semi-regularly, but I'm a little out of practice. It's been a couple years since I had the chance."
Seras smiled. "Then I think I know something that might cheer you up a bit."
::A Few Minutes Later::
Matt heard it about a hallway or so before he actually saw it: a shooting range. He looked at Seras, who had served as escort through the facility, a smile forming on his features; his first smile in some time. "You have a shooting range here."
Seras nodded, her face showing she was happy he was feeling better. "Shall we?" She gestured to a door. Matthew nodded, and nearly ran to open the door.
Once inside, he grabbed the needed ear protection and looked over what was available. 'Hmm', he thought, 'A Walther P99. 9 mil. Good warm-up.' He grabbed one of the pistols and a few magazines of ammo. Setting up at a lane, he checked the distance to the target: fifty meters. 'About fifty yards. If I'm lucky, I'll get close to the center. That's ok. With time I'll work up my accuracy.' Sliding the first magazine into the pistol, he checked the range to make sure he wasn't the only one shooting, checked the safety, took aim at the man shaped target, and squeezed the trigger. The gun fired, and a hole appeared in the target. Matt froze, then stared at the gun in disbelief. "The hell...?"
A soldier in a nearby lane looked at Matt's target, then at Matt. "Nice shot, lad. Right through the heart. Wanna aim for that or the head."
Seras stepped up beside him. "Something wrong?"
Matthew set the gun on the table, and looked at the target, pointing to the hole in the target's heart. "A perfect shot at fifty yards on the first try. I've never done that before." He then looked at the gun. "And that gun had barely any recoil. It felt more like a .22 then a 9 mil." He looked over at Seras. "Perk of being a vampire?" At her nod, he looked back at the gun. "Well, damn. I liked the recoil of 9 mil."
"How about something bigger?"
Matthew looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She smiled, and pointed toward the back of the range. There, on a table, was a rifle larger then any he'd ever shot. He looked at her disbelieving. "That one?" She nodded and he walked over to it, lightly chuckling. "What is it?"
"A 50 caliber sniper rifle."
He walked around behind the rifle and looked at Seras. "A 50 caliber sniper rifle. I don't think I could even lift..." He trailed off as he grabbed the gun and easily yanked it from the table. "Huh?" Seras was on the verge of laughing out loud. Matt looked at her. "What?"
She got control of her breathing, then spoke. "That's almost the same reaction I had to that gun."
He tilted his head in question. "You shot this?" She nodded, giving an 'uh huh' response. "Well, when in Rome..." He grabbed a 50 caliber round from the table, he set up at his lane. He slid the bullet into the rifle and locked the bolt closed. He looked to those nearby, watching the newcomer fiddle with a gun almost longer then he. "Y'all might want to step back. I don't know how much this is gonna kick." Heeding his warning, the perimeter around him increased a bit. He took aim at the target's head, fired, and a positively huge hole appeared in the center of the target's forehead. Matthew set the rifle down and stood, rubbing his shoulder. "Ow."
Seras approached, looking concerned. "You ok?"
Matt nodded. "Yeah. Good pain. It's supposed to hurt. I think I've had enough for one day." He hefted the rifle and started to move to set it where he got it.
"I'll get it. You head back to your room and I'll meet you there, ok?"
He looked back at her. "Umm... Ok." He slid open the bolt of the rifle, and the brass cartridge leapt out as it was extracted from the rifle. He caught the brass and set down the rifle. "I'm keeping this. See you in a bit."
