Untitled
By: Ordos45
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I still don't own Hellsing. Original characters yes, canon no.
Chapter 3: Loss in the Night
A/N:
Bluemew- Thanks for the review. I forgot to address something in your first review, I was using a first year Latin student for my Latin.
Tornado(Reviewer- I try to give Anderson his action, and hope I can continue to do so.
the son of duress- Thanks, I need to work on the length a lot.
Sensoo- Clichéd and choppy happens with writer's block, but thanks for telling me what I need to work with.
"Who," whispered Sir Integra Hellsing, breathing labored and vision blurred.
"I can't tell you," said the man standing above her in the ruins of the Hellsing mansion, his Appalachian accent almost unnoticeable amongst the crackling flames," I just do as I'm told."
"Bastard," she hoarsely said, hatred was evident in her face and voice.
"Always," he smirked, and then faded away.
***
The wind rustled through the trees, their leaves making a gentle noise through the air. That air seemed heavy with darkness, however, and oppressive with the stench of fear. Above in the sky the moon hung full in the sky, a gentle giant watching over what was to be done this night.
"Who brings forward this sacrifice," asked the leader of the group.
"I do," said a man, lowering his hood to reveal a long scar inflicted by a blessed blade in the Philippines," I bring Father Baggia as a sacrifice."
"Then in the name of our master," said the leader," take his life with this blade, as well as the angel's who is bonded to his soul."
"In the name of our master, I take this pitiful life, both angel and human to secure our victory over those who fight us," murmured the scarred man. He lifted the cursed blade above his head, bringing it down towards Baggia's neck.
A shot crackled in the oppressive night air and the cursed blade was knocked from its owner's hands. The small group that had gathered glanced about, looking for the source of the bullet.
"You shall not kill the Regenerator," said a voice in the darkness of the forests, its accent similar to their own.
"Who are you," yelled the scarred man," and why do you think this is your business?"
"I am here to stop you, that is enough," said the voice, a cursed bullet ripping through one of the gathered men's' shoulder," You are such pathetic fools."
"Pathetic fools," yelled the leader of the group," We captured a Vatican Regenerator. We're a force to be reckoned with!"
The man in the black cloak nodded his head slowly in his hiding place. These fools felt that the Vatican and its Regenerators were powerful. Well he would let them think what they would, but he would not allow this Regenerator to be sacrificed. These Satanists could not be allowed the power taken by slaying an angelic soul, only he could be allowed that.
A cursed bullet ripped through the night's air, and the Regenerator's head exploded across the clearing. With a smirk the cloak wearing man felt the power he had gained," I shall leave you then. I wouldn't want to face anyone as dangerous as you."
He began to fade from his hiding place. Yes a bit of power from two nosferatu and an angelic soul were good boosts for a night's work.
He faded back into normal reality in the same dark room as the last time. The Director's office made him edgy, as much as he hated to admit it," Both missions have been accomplished."
"Good," said the Director, from his direction smoke could be smelled.
"I can understand silencing Baggia before the Satanists could," said the agent, uncomfortably," but the Hellsing Organization?"
"We have a Manifest Destiny," explained the Director coldly," be it in land area or preternatural hunting. The organizations of Old Europe must be silenced so that we can become dominant and fulfill our Manifest Destiny."
***
"Father Maxwell," said the secretary over the intercom," There's a woman here to see you."
"A woman," he asked confused. He reached into a desk drawer and released the safety on his glock. He wouldn't be caught off guard by a Succubus. With that precaution taken he spoke into the intercom," Send her in."
The door creaked open to reveal a battered form in a tattered suit. Her normally well groomed hair was disheveled, and the look of wariness on her face surprised him. Perhaps it even dulled his senses, because he did not shoot before asking questions," What are you doing in Vatican City Sir Hellsing, our treaty forbids it."
"Our treaty is void Catholic," she coughed hoarsely," My organization is gone….I have come to ask for….asylum."