A/N: Yea, thank you to all those who took the time to review. I guess it's safe to say that I'm a better artist than I am a writer. I do not own Hellsing and all that jazz.

Isabella ceased pulling at her bonds. Her volatile demeanor mellowed dramatically as she struggled to comprehend just how long her incarceration had been. Jumbled memories swam in her mind. She dimly remembered being brought to this place by Father Wrexmar, but aside from a few blurred images, she recalled little else. Her brows knitted together as she struggled to sort through her disheveled recollections. Enrico Maxwell took advantage of the silence to speak.
"I've already spoken with a few other members of Iscariot on this situation. We can't afford to keep such a creature within our walls. Or the Vatican City for that matter. Such a thing could only bring trouble. What do you propose, Sir Hellsing?"
Integra turned away from Isabella's still form. She looked thoughtful, as though unsure. Finally, she nodded resolutely.
"We shall take her."
Father Maxwell seemed to have hoped for such an answer. He offered no resistance to the proposal, instead shrugging.
"But how will you release her from these pits? And transport her to the surface? Not to mention get her back to England."
Here Alucard snorted. "These seals...I doubt they could even keep a lowly ghoul out. They may have been potent when created, but time has stolen any power they might have once held. However," He motioned around the chamber and at the silver objects surrounding Isabella. "These chains still possess a bit of bite. And as for those talismans..."
"Forged from blessed silver," Isabella said, her voice eerily calm. "Melded with holy water and the leaves of a plant called Rue. Not to mention a few other ingredients I don't care to recall. All this to keep me within this ring." Here she gave a dry chuckle. "I managed to knock three of those damn things over. Took me a while. But the others...I couldn't reach...I cannot move so long as they stand."
As if in response to this statement, Alucard raised a booted foot and kicked over the remaining talismans in one swift, fluid movement. Maxwell winced as the crucifix crashed onto the cold stone ground. Integra nodded with satisfaction.
"Now, as for those chains..."
Here Seras drew her gun. Raising it, she let loose a shot at the chain closest to her. A sharp, piercing ring sounded as bullet met silver. The entire length shook, but the bullet had only managed to chip the loop slightly.
Seras lowered the Beretta. "Well..."
Isabella looked up and nodded at one of the walls. "It 'taint that easy. If it were, I would have broken them long since. But these damned things feed into braces set into the masonry. I do believe they're only made of iron."
At this, Seras shot at said braces. The ancient stone gave under the force and crumbled; releasing the chains it had held for so many years. There came a thunderous rattling and crashes as the chains fell to the ground, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. More or less freed, Isabella slowly rose to her feet. But her legs trembled beneath her as she stood, threatening to buckle if she even dared to take a step. She shifted her weight slightly – and ended up on the ground.
"Oh hells." she seethed.
Integra sighed. Perhaps this would be more difficult than they originally thought. And the prospect of having to move a paralyzed vampire back to England didn't appeal to her. The director of Hellsing gazed at the vampire as she fought to stand. Just exactly who was she? And why was the Hellsing name branded upon her?
As Isabella failed yet again, Alucard spoke:
"I guess third time's not the charm. Perhaps we should leave you behind?"
With a defiant snarl, Isabella leapt to her feet, and this time, managed to stay upright. She wobbled unsteadily; the heavy chains, which were encircled all about her form, were quite the burden.
"Right then," Integra turned to leave. "I suppose if you can stand, then walking should follow that."
And with that, Integra left the cold chamber, along with Alucard, and Seras. Isabella hung back for a moment. She threw a venomous glare over at Maxwell, but said nothing. She then trudged painfully after Integra and the others, heavy chains clattering loudly in her wake.
Now alone, Maxwell sighed and offered a short prayer to the Lord.
"...Amen. I only hope that we did the right thing."

. . .

Back at Hellsing Headquarters, Integra brooded as Walter gave her an account of what had occurred since they had brought Isabella back with them.
"...And here, to our surprise, here she fainted. We attributed this to perhaps she'd been deprived of blood for too long. But we took advantage of that to perform a medical examination."
Integra's brow furrowed. "And what did you find?"
"Her body sported many scars, as though she'd been through many operations. Her healing abilities seem to have been accelerated somehow, but from our examination, it seems this skill is not consistent.
"What do you mean?"
"We also took time to remove those chains. But since some were half melded with her flesh, we had to cut into her to remove them. Some of the wounds healed within seconds. But others didn't close up, and they were mainly the more shallow and some of the deeper cuts. We had to bandage those."
Integra frowned. "How peculiar. What is her state now, Walter?"
"Awoke just about ten minutes ago. A good time to speak with her would be after she's eaten. Seras is bringing her several pouches of medical blood and some clothing. But tell me," Walter said. "What do you plan to do with her?"
Integra smiled thinly. "I'm not sure yet. But she might have quite a tale to tell."

...

Seras found Isabella sitting in the corner of the basement. She approached her slowly, holding out the clothes and blood.
"Um, Isabella? Here's some blood and..."
Isabella looked up. Her pale hand reached out and snatched one of the pouches of blood Seras held. She held the thing up, turning it quizzically.
"Oh, it's a plastic bag." Seras said. "You have to..."
Isabella tore open the top of the container. She tossed back its contents in a single quaff. This she repeated on the remaining six pouches. Once done, she took the clothes from Seras and proceeded to undress. Seras turned away as Isabella tore the tattered white dress off herself.
"Umm...can I ask you a question, Isabella?"
Isabella tossed her torn white frock into a corner. She didn't say anything, acting as though she hadn't heard Seras. The two stood amidst an awkward silence for a while, until Isabella broke it with her queer chuckle.
"You wish to know why I was imprisoned, don't ye?"
"Y-yes..."
More silence arose from this exchange and Seras, back still turned, waited patiently. Perhaps Isabella was preparing to tell her tale. She gazed absently at the far wall. The sudden sound of a door slamming brought Seras out of her reverie. She whirled around, only to find that Isabella was gone. Somehow she had slipped away without her noticing. Seras blinked in amazement. So much for a story.
Isabella strode through the halls, a displeased look upon her face. The blood that Seras had brought was far from enough to sate her thirst. She scowled. A mere child. More innocence and naiveté than experience or malice. That was what Seras was to her. How could a child understand? She continued walking through the empty hallway, half-consciously wondering where she was going. A tug of guilt pulled lightly at her. Then again, she too once had been a child. Here her scowl deepened.
A child raped of all innocence by life.