Vampires And Devils And Faeries, Oh My!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sept. 14th, 20xx

6:30 AM

"Oh get up you lazy ass!" Trish gave the figure on the couch a hard shove, tipping both him and the couch over backwards. Growling like a grumpy bear, the figure sat up. "Trish, I thought you promised to never do that again," said the irate hunter. "Well, it was either that or I get the new job all to myself," she said with a playful smirk. Dante stood and went to get a beer. "So what's the job and who's hiring?" Retrieving a can from the fridge, he began to guzzle it down. Trish's smirk deepened. "Fox Xanatos." Nearly a third of the can became airborne as Dante spit up. "Fox Xanatos? As in wife of David Xanatos?" he asked, coughing. "The one and only," Trish said. "She says that there's something supernatural going on near the Park. And forget that coin of yours Dante. She asked for you personally."

'I killed them. It happened again.' The young man sat against the wall of the alley, his head in his hands. 'Why?' He lifted his head and gazed sadly at his thin bony hands. 'Why was I born this way?' Dropping his head between his knees, he let out a sad sigh. 'Why can't I die?'

"There were about thirteen involved." "About?" Elisa ignored Dante's raised eyebrow. "Not enough left to make an exact count." Dante crossed his arms as he tried to think. The cold combination of ancient and modern that was Castle Wyvern didn't help much. "You sure it wasn't a gas leak or something?" asked the suspicious hunter. Elisa didn't bat an eye. "Both gas and power were cut to that building in the 90's. Besides, you might want to look at these." That said, she handed him the manila folder she was carrying. Within were several dozen photos of the scene, as well as a small plastic bag containing a bluish substance.

9:00 AM (New York)

Dominique Destine was well beyond irritated. 'A demon! A Devil! Right under my very nose!' In the relative peace of her massive Cadillac limousine, she was able to fume without lashing out (due to an obvious lack of targets). 'Who summoned it? There isn't anyone that I know of other than myself, Xanatos, and Macbeth with sufficient skill and experience for a summoning of this caliber.' As the huge car pulled into the Nightstone lot, she noticed a beggar she had never seen before. Thin like a scarecrow, and melancholy as St. Patrick's during a storm, the boy stumbled along, obviously blind. Even though she lost sight of the beggar boy as the car entered the garage, there was something about him that Dominique couldn't shake. After a brief walk to her office, she picked up the handset of an elaborate red phone that she had only used once before.

The line rang seven times before it was answered. "Yes?" came a cultured British accent over the line. "I have business with Sir Hellsing." "Please hold, Miss Destine." A moment passed before the phone picked up. "I imagine you have a good reason for calling at such a godforsaken hour, Miss Destine," said a cold voice. "I wouldn't contact your organization even if Hell itself froze over and you know it," she retuned in an equally chilled voice. "I'll get straight to the point, there is an NHB in New York, specifically, a Demon of the highest order. Think your pet 'No-Life King' can handle the challenge?" "We silence the living dead only in the name of Her Majesty. The Colonies are not our concern." Playing her trump card, Dominique almost smirked. "Would you rather I call the Vatican? I'm sure they could send someone over." She could practically hear teeth grating over the phone.

2:00 AM (East London)

Integra was fuming. 'An AMERICAN! The utter GALL of that woman!' Why not Master? I love a challenge. 'Don't even THINK it you pompous bag of flesh!' Why Master, I'm touched by your affection. The tall figure in red emerged from the shadows as Integra fought off the urge to scream at the vampire with the phone cradled between her cheek and her shoulder. 'The only reason that is keeping me from blowing you past Hell is the fact that Walter has better things to do than to repaint this room.' Ahh, the smell of victory... The vampire phased out of the room, leaving his master to seethe. "Two of our agents will arrive undercover in three days. They will scout out this NHB for one week. If it is not found by then, they will be recalled." With that, she hung up, placing the handset on the phone as gently as her temper would allow. You should really see someone about your blood pressure Master...

The sound of a .45 Desert Eagle rang throughout the mansion.

(Somewhere)

"We shall see, Hellsing." Smirking, the man turned away from the tape recorder and dialed a number into a keypad. "Urgent! Dark Apple. Three days harvest." "Very good. The Scythian shall reap in two. God Bless."

Author's Note: That's chapter 2 for you! DMC, Gargoyles, and now Hellsing! Who's next?

P.S. Oh yeah, Alucard is such a masochist, ne?