Incognito is much loathed for many reasons and is one reason the manga which has much more interesting villains is so much preferred. Nonetheless I found him a bit interesting and when my friend requested a birthday ficlet about a minor character, we decided on a little back story for Incognito.
Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kohta Hirano, however the anime creators are responsible for Incognito himself. In any case none of it is mine.
Note: This is based on ideas from mythology I researched on the net and used for my own purposes. It is not based on any of these ideas or names as they are used in any fiction or role-plays and certainly not on modern religious use of them.
Dark Continent
They captured him in the forest silently, dragging him off through the trees. There were rumors of people coming from the sea, white men and others coming to take the young ones. He didn't shout; there was no use.
When the two men tied him in a room alone and spoke to him in his own language, he was certain they were not slavers. When they began to speak of the dead and of blood-drinking, he knew they would kill him. But for his people those who took human blood were balls of light, witches who traveled at night outside their bodies and fed on children. He waited to die, but they stopped talking then, and put him into an ox-drawn wagon.
This carried him out of his birthplace over long miles through other places and other climates. They fed him when they had to and he didn't see anyone drink blood yet. They seemed human to him. He thought perhaps he was headed for slavery after all but they didn't acquire any more captives.
After many days they reached a town on the outskirts of a desert and placed him in a room. They began to speak again of vampires, but he didn't know the word until they tried to explain it. They seemed to want him to become one, but he could not think why. He had been bracing himself to be killed but he was certain this would be worse.
They told him more of night creatures, and all he could remember was the witches of his people. He refused. They didn't listen. They called that night in prayers and rituals, with torchlight and the shedding of their own blood. The name they called was Sekhmet. He knew now they would not let him die, and tried not to beg them to kill him.
A creature appeared, eventually, a female in draped cloth with the head of a lioness. He wondered if it was a human in a mask, or a goddess as the men had told him, but he never knew because when the fanged mouth approached his neck he became unconscious.
He awoke naked, feeling cold and strange, without his body's normal rhythms. They had turned him into something that was inhuman and wrong. When they brought him blood, he refused to drink. When they explained what they wanted him to do, he didn't listen. They laughed at first, but then there were more and darker rituals. He found out they could hurt him, tear his limbs, and he would still live, and they could make him whole again. They tore him apart one night and took his sex organs, and from then on they called him Osiris, after another god. They laughed at this, and he despaired completely.
It was more pain than anyone could bear, and he did beg for death. They offered to grant it to him if he finally obeyed, and he agreed. They told him of Set and a plan to bring that god. Still he didn't care, he wanted only an ending.
The room was small and dark and he was there for longer than he wanted to count, until those men left and others replaced them. His skin grew pale and he grew weak, but they did not give him blood until finally they let him go, and took him new places to kill and drink it fresh. He wanted it badly by then.
Years passed and more men came from elsewhere to suck the blood out his continent. He lost what he had ever been and was their monster. By the time they took him to England he has lost nearly everything, including all his names and any human feeling. He heard their plan to bring Set finally, and listened and obeyed, without it meaning anything to him at all. All he had in his mind was a vague memory that they had promised him he could die, and a hope that now it could finally happen.