Silver Acid

A Hellsing fan fiction by Iapetus

Disclaimer: Hellsing is owned by Kohta Hirano, and well as some other people who are not me.

This doesn't take place in any particular place in the timeline. If anything, it would happen probably soon (but not immediately) after Ceras was turned.

Acid.

That's what it felt like. Burning into her skin like a slow-acting acid did through metal. She could see the steam rise – trying to escape from the friction of merely touching her impure flesh.

It hurt.

It was more painful than almost any other injury had ever been inflicted on her. While other wounds would heal almost instantly, the scorch of a holy metal would not be so easy to get rid of.

Humans didn't realize the power they had over creatures like herself. The fact that almost every household possessed something that could destroy her.

She could not be killed, only destroyed. She had already died.

Silver never used to have this affect on her. Ceras Victoria could no longer touch anything considered holy.

All of this went through her mind in the split second that she had touched the piece of cutlery that had been strewn in the battered remains of the apartment's kitchen. She had been harmed by the flat of the knife, not its edge. Her finger immediately went to her mouth, instinctively trying to relieve the pain.

The sight was almost disturbingly contradictory. Ceras felt like a little girl with her primitive attempt to rid herself of the throbbing sensation that had remained where she had touched the knife. She knew it wouldn't do her any good. And, still in that mentality, it boggled her mind how something as cool as silver could feel so hot.

Then she would remember her place, and everything would make sense again. She didn't live according to human rules. Not anymore.

Standing back up, she continued to look around the apartment for clues. Ghouls always left some sort of trail, no matter how well they seemed to have planned their attack. Her master had taught her that.

Taking the finger out of her mouth, she focused on the matter at hand, and pushed the pain from her mind. The one day she forgot to wear gloves…

Moments like these where why she did wear gloves. Well, it was why she was supposed to, anyways.

::Fin::

This was written for a drabble challenge on Scinthion's LiveJournal. The challenge was to take one of the first lines to one of her stories, and to write a whole new story about it.

I hope you all enjoyed it. Comments and criticisms are appreciated.

-Iapetus