The temperature in the room was near chilling. Father Maxwell raised his torch high, his eyes fighting to adjust to the dim light. As the gloom finally gave way to shadowy images, Maxwell found that he could just make out nine torch brackets upon the wall. Anderson's footsteps sounded unusually loud as he took the torch from Maxwell and strode to all nine and lit them. After a moment, the underground chamber was flooded with pale orange light. Maxwell and Anderson gasped as they took in their surroundings.
Here, the walls had also been written upon, this time, with a thick, tarry black ink of some sort. Words that begged the Lord for protection, for salvation, and many other similar things of the sort. Maxwell shuddered the slightest of shivers. Whatever was in this room wasn't meant to leave. But it wasn't the walls that were the most startling feature. A wizened form lay kneeled on the ground in the chamber's center. Lanky, coarse black hair obscured most of the long-since decayed face. The wasted arms of the corpse had been bounds with heavy chains, which fed into the rock walls at nine different locations. But surrounding the cadaver, were six large objects wrought of what seemed to be pure silver; a circle, infinity emblem, eternity rune, crucifix, pentacle, and Star of David. The same symbols that had been etched upon the stairs. All of the metal articles were standing upright upon marble bases. Except for three. The circle, infinity emblem, and the Celtic rune had been knocked over. Maxwell drew back as he looked at the ground. The dark stone floor had been stained with blood. And even though the stains had been dreadfully faded by the ages, they still frightened and fascinated him. But he cast his gaze back at the body. It knelt there, clothed in a long, tattered white dress, a chilling sneer fixed upon its rancid features.

"Maxwell, I think it's ae vampire." Anderson said, his grip tightening upon his swords.

"Perhaps. What if it's something else? Why would anyone lock a vampire down here?"

"There have been many ae vampire to terrorize Europe over the centuries." Anderson said thoughtfully. "Perhaps, this one did something terrible."

"True, but why not slay it?"

"Maybe...they couldn't?" But as Maxwell was about to answer, something caught his eye. He leaned in closer to examine the remains. Surprisingly enough, a patch of skin had not yet rotted away. But it was close to that point. It was the upper chest area, and was barely visible under frayed cloth and dried hair. Ever so carefully, Maxwell brushed aside the hair, which felt like cobwebs to the touch. His eyes went wide as he found that there was something branded upon the skin.

A sigil.

"Anderson." Maxwell said over his shoulder. "Come look at this."

The priest hurried over and followed Maxwell's gaze. He too, was shocked. "Laird above..." he murmured.

"Yes..."

The sigil sported a decagram surmounted by lines of runes and words. Aside from some Latin, there was a word at a focal point of the mark, which surprised both present to see it.

Hellsing.

. . .

Alucard was sitting upon his sable coffin as Walter rapped lightly on the door and entered. Alucard looked up absently, waiting for the old butler to speak.
"Integra wishes to speak with you." Walter said.
With his usual wicked sneer, Alucard pocketed his twin combat pistols and strode out of the room. He thought back a moment as he made his way towards the office. He hadn't done anything to offend Integra. Well, not recently, that is.
Integra had her back to the door when Alucard entered.
"What is it, Master?" Alucard asked.
Integra turned and pointed at a cream-colored paper with lay on her desk. "I just received a letter from Vatican Section XIII. Iscariot."
Alucard's features pulled up into a devious grin. "Oh? And what did they want?"
"Read it." Integra ordered. "It would certainly amuse you."
Alucard took the paper into his pale white hands. "Sir Hellsing, "he read. "The weather is lovely in Vatican City. A meeting would be in order."
Alucard snorted as he tossed the article back upon the desk. "Are they serious? They want us to meet them? At the Vatican? The pivot of the Catholic Church?"
"Aye."
Alucard's grin grew wider. "When do we leave, my Master?"

. . .

Integral, Alucard, and Seras arrived in Rome shortly after eleven-o- clock at night the next day. Their rendezvous with Father Maxwell was a rather tense one; given that the priest was late. However, without any further ado, the trio from Hellsing allowed themselves to be led into the Vatican.
Alucard sneered as he followed Integra and Maxwell through the darkened halls of the Vatican.
"These walls would look quite in blood." he remarked absently.
But his speech received no answer, and the group journeyed down into the nether regions of the building. As they neared the recently uncovered stairwell, Alucard paused. His eyes narrowed beneath thick-rimmed glasses. There was something amiss here. He sniffed at the air.
"M-master?"
Alucard started at the sound of Seras' voice. "What?"
"Is something wrong?"
Alucard straightened and quickened his pace. He shook his head. "Not yet." he answered.
Integra was hesitant as they came upon the stairs. "You expect us to go down there?" she demanded. "How do we know this isn't a trap?"
Maxwell sighed. "Sir Hellsing," he said calmly. "Would it ease your mind if I went first?"
Alucard drew out one of his pistols, the Casull. "If you wouldn't mind," he said.
Maxwell cast a disdainful glance at the large weapon pointed at him. "All right, all right...no need to start pointing weapons."
Seras squirmed uncomfortably as Alucard held his gun out high. Her usual weapon, Harkonnen, was too ungainly to bring along on this mission, so she, like Integra, had come armed with two Beretta handguns and a dagger apiece. She hoped she wouldn't have to use them. But the tense moment passed when Maxwell went first down into the stairwell. After a moment, Integra followed after him, Alucard and Seras behind her. Integra shivered slightly as the temperature dropped during their descent. Alucard's voice sounded close to her ear.
"Cold, Sir Hellsing?"
Integra's deep blue eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. "No."
The party continued on down deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Vatican. Seras groaned quietly as they passed the fifth mark. How much further? It seemed as though they had been walking for hours! She also was unsettled by the looks of this passage they were in. It had the looks of a place that one wasn't supposed to disturb. Nevertheless, she followed.
At long last, the gates to the 'tomb,' as Maxwell and Anderson had referred to it as, appeared. Maxwell pulled open the slightly ajar doors and turned to face Integra.
"This," he said. "Is what we called you here for, Sir Hellsing."
Pushing Maxwell aside, Integra entered the chamber. She fought to hide her surprise as she took in her surroundings. Her gaze took in the walls, the chains, the bloodstained floors, and last but now least, the body. Alucard came in next. His face was a mask of mixed emotions as he glanced around. But it was Seras who voiced their opinion.
"What the bloody hell?!"
Wordless, Alucard and Integra approached the bound corpse. For Integra, it reminded her of a scene years ago, when she had first found Alucard deep in the labs of Hellsing. Alucard leaned in close to the cadaver.
"It's a vampire all right." he said, his gaze a calculating one.
"Yes, but look at that." Integra shoved aside the hair and pointed at the sigil branded upon the ancient flesh.
"Servate nos a periculum." Alucard read aloud the Latin from the sigil. Servate nos a maleficulm. Hellsing."
"What does it mean?" Seras asked.
"It's Latin." Integral replied. "It basically means. 'Save us from peril, save us from evil.' Strange, why the bloody hell is 'Hellsing' written on there?"
A low laugh escaped from Alucard's lips. "Only one way to find out, Master."
Integra caught on to what the vampire was implying with the tone of his voice. With a slight frown, she reached into her coat and withdrew the slim dagger she had brought along. Quickly, she made a small slit on the palm of her hand. Through the cut, a small puddle of blood began to pool on her hand. Alucard's nose flared as he saw the blood, but he remained motionless. Integra now turned over her hand deftly, allowing some of her blood to drip down onto the corpse's head, and some onto the ground. The deed done, she recoiled to a point a few feet away, bandaging her wound with a gray handkerchief in the same minute. Alucard also retreated, but his eyes remained riveted on the sight in front of him, not wanting to miss a thing.
The withered pile didn't move for a long three minutes. Then, a deep shudder ran through the dried limbs and bones. Shriveled matter now slowly melted into smooth white skin. All at once, the figure lurched forward, and a long scarlet tongue darted out. It lapped up the blood hungrily. That done, the newly revived vampire threw back its head, revealing that it was in actuality a female. Her deep green eyes, though slightly clouded, blazed with deep-rooted fury.
"Release me, Catholic scum!" She said in a low voice, her eyes focused on Maxwell. "I'll have yer damned head."
"Oho!" Alucard grinned. "She seems peeved."
The woman turned to face , chains rattling violently as she did so. Her gaze changed as she looked at him. "Well, well," she said, a brooding smile upon her chapped lips. "Another vampire. Release me, lord, so that I may return the injustice these blasted Catholic bastards have done to me."
Integra now took a step towards the chained one. "Who are you? And why are you branded with a sigil like that?"
The vampiress hissed at Integra, but stopped as she caught sight of her wounded hand. "Ah," she licked her lips. "I thank ye, milady, for the blood. I recognized it right away. You're a Hellsing, aren't you? Then I am Isabella d'Anjou to you, Lady Hellsing."
"Yes, but-"
Isabella's attention now returned to Maxwell. "Tell me," she spat. "How many years? How long have I been down in this damned pit?"
Maxwell shook his head. "There are no records of you. We were quite surprised to find this place. But tell me, who imprisoned you here? And why?"
"Father Wrexmar!" Isabella cried. "I'll have that bitch's head..."
Surprise registered on Maxwell's face. "Wrexmar? Wrexmar...he was a priest here...But he served the Vatican over ninety years ago!"
A look of disbelief knocked aside the anger on Isabella. "Oh, piss. Bloody, damned hells." she said lowly.