Any other day Integra would have driven the Rolls Royce herself. However, today she was running behind schedule and didn't have the time to wander around a parking lot on the quest for a space.
Watching the rain pounding against the window of her car, she idle stared at her reflection against the dark background of the storm. Occasionally, a bolt of lighting would light up the moist sky, illuminating the fields outside and dissolving her glass image for a moment.
"We should be arriving around 7:15, Sir Integra." Her chauffeur calmly announced.
"Hmm" was her only response to him.
"You could at least dignify him with an actual word, Hellsing."
Oh that's right. The Iscariot hypocrite was mooching a ride off of her to the meeting. It seemed his limousine driver didn't realize when the priest said "Wait for me," he didn't mean at the rental site.
"And you could at least keep your mouth shut, seeing how you would still be standing at the steps of my home with that dumfound look on your face."
Maxwell opened his mouth as if he were about the parry her verbal blow, but he thought against it and ground his teeth together instead.
The sky, as always, was beautiful during a storm. Deeps shades of grey, black, and purple slipped across the sky at what appeared to be a hundred miles an hour, the rumble of thunder that made her insides twist with adrenalin, and the impressive flash that would make the twist in her stomach clasp her heart instead. She wasn't afraid of storms in any sense; there was simply some animalistic enjoyment in witnessing one.
The road below the car was in terribly poor condition. Stones would sporadically hit the bottom of the speeding automobile, making small tink noises which were completely dominated by the echo of the rain pounding on the metal roof. A river could be seen next to the road, separated solely by a small stretch of grass which rippled in the wind of the storm, and a field beyond it, dotted with what looked like black trees.
A flash of lighting brought the small stretch of grass much closer than it should have been. Integra's blue eyes widened when she felt her glass reflection brutally strike against her face.
And then, everything went black.
Ice blue eyes opened to see a flickering computer monitor.
"Sir Integra, I'll be shutting the doors to your balcony now. It looks as if it may storm." Walter quietly commented, pulling the heavy veranda doors shut.
Integra lifted her head off of the large oak desk. She must have fallen asleep. Rubbing her eyes with the flats of her hands, she arched her back in an attempt to work the kinks out.
"Good Lord," Integra thought as she noticed a small puddle on her desk. Using her glove as a rag, she quickly dried the spot.
"Will you be eating something before you leave for the meeting then, Miss Hellsing?" Walter asked in a soft tone, smiling as if he hadn't seen Integra's quick cleaning job.
"Hmm? Oh yes, the meeting." The clock on her computer monitor read 4:06. "Yes, I suppose I have time to catch a quick meal."
"Excellent." Her personal assassin/butler commented with a slight bow. "I'll return shortly with your meal."
"Thank-you, Walter."
"Should I retrieve Father Maxwell from the soldier's barracks? I'm sure they've had quite enough of him by now."
"Unless they've started using him as a moving target." She replied, beautiful mental images gracing her imagination as she spoke.
"I apologize for this Walter, but do you think you could manage keeping him out of my hair a bit longer?"
"Of course, Sir Integra. I'm sure I'll think of something to keep him busy."
Although the idea of letting Maxwell waltz around her manor was a blatantly obvious mistake, the idea of being in the same vicinity as him for the next two hours or more led her to ignore the fact.
An unfinished itinerary of what needed to be discussed during the meeting that night sat patiently waiting on Integra's computer monitor. Grabbing a cigar and cursing herself for allowing sleep to seduce her, she positioned her hands over the white keyboard and awaited a flow of words which never came.
Instead, she found her mind wondering back to her dream.
"I was heading to tonight's meeting" she realized.
After staring idly forward for a moment she bit down on her cigar and inhaled deeply.
"Nonsense" she muttered letting the smoke escape from her lungs with the word. "Come now, Integra. Concentrate."
Despite her best attempts to calm her nerves, a sense of déjà vu held on tightly and refused to let go.
The maiden finally found the words she'd been waiting for and typed furiously. Enough stalling, she had to finish the blasted thing.
Her brows furrowed after reading what she'd typed. "Damn it!" she yelled, ripping her hands from keyboard.
What the bloody hell is that?
"Is everything quiet well, Miss Hellsing?" Walter asked opening the door.
"Ask of the insurance matter regarding the a piece of broccoli fell off the plate and onto the tray; it's hidden under the rim of the plate. The fork's fourth prong is bent awkwardly and knife has dried water spots on the handle. Walter has chocolate icing on his cuff from dessert, a piece of white cake, with the chocolate icing of course…he hasn't noticed the stain yet."
She re-read what she typed. No, it was definitely there, word for word.
"Yes…" She finally responded. "Everything is… fine."
Walter pushed a small cart across the tiled floor, the squeaky wheels echoing throughout the large, scantily decorated room.
She waited for it, waited to see what was under the silver dome that covered the meal, waited to see if what she typed was true.
The lid echoed like a cymbal as it was removed from the plate and made Integra's nerves spasm. She instantly accused Alucard of toying with her mind. It wasn't the first time; no doubt it wouldn't be the last. But he should still have been blissfully asleep in the basement, so maybe he wasn't involved. Well, she wouldn't rule him out just yet.
"Oh my" Walter commented looking at the cuff of his sleeve.
"Chocolate icing." Integra stated.
"Well, yes actually."
"Walter…" Integra looked up to see him watching her with an odd expression. She shouldn't have been able to see the inside of his cuff and her illogical knowledge sent questions buzzing in his ear.
"Do you believe in premonitions?"
He smiled, shaking his head. "That I don't know about. But I wouldn't be above ruling out a certain individual before jumping to conclusions."
"The feeling is mutual."
So Walter agreed with her. Alucard had to of been up to something. Fine, she had things to do. She'd just have to give him a piece of her mind later that night. After highlighting the "premonition," she continued typing her itinerary hoping Alucard would get the hint that she was in no mood if he still had plans to be a torment.
Integra patently waited as the paper slowly printed. From the angle she was slouching in her chair, a view of the small cartridge moving from side to side seemed to hypnotize her. In truth, thoughts of purchasing a new ink jet printer danced in her mind.
"This is taking far too long."
"Sir Integra" Walter called.
She pulled her eyes from the sluggish printer to view the source of the voice.
"Your chauffer has arrived."
"Thank-you Walter, I'll be down in a moment."
When the printer finally ejected the sheet of paper, she had to use all her self control not to scream at the damned machine. The low levels of ink gave her an itinerary which slowly changed colors from black to red to yellow.
Briefcase in hand, Integra walked down between the large pillars that supported the front of her manor. The storm which had been looming in the distance reached the establishment and it was already releasing heavy drops of rain from the sky. A sleek black limousine waited at the base of the stairs, humming quietly. She peered at her watch while continuing down the stairs, "6:09." There was no doubt she'd be tardy and the irritation of the fact riled her.
The front door of the limo opened, a black haired driver stepping out. When Integra's eyes rose from her watch, a wave of fury flashed over her.
"What in God's name are you doing?" She barked.
"Opening the door for you." He replied in a velvet tone as he did so.
"Alucard, I haven't the time for this, where is the chauffer?"
A malicious grin covered his face. "Alucard? Ma'am, I am your chauffer."
What was he trying to pull? If he thought he was being funny, he was sorely mistaken.
"Enough!" She shouted, letting him aware of her anger.
Sensing something behind her, she turned as if she were in threat of being attacked. "Miss Hellsing? Is something wrong?" Walter calmly asked.
Maxwell's voice cut through the air from within the limousine. "Would you hurry up Hellsing! We're already running late thanks to you!"
She turned around to see a tall red-haired man standing next to the open door in Alucard's place. He motioned toward the car door with a nervous smile "Ma'am?"
"I…" …just made a fool of myself. She felt the rain slowly begin to soak her hair as an inner battle of pride versus embarrassment took place.
"Hellsing!" Maxwell called, snapping her attention to him.
"I have to take care of something first, Catholic." She turned on her heel, wet hair whipping behind her. Dealing with Alucard couldn't wait any longer. He'd overstep his bounds and she wasn't one to procrastinate on dealing with him any longer then she had to.
"Alucard!" she screamed from the top of the basement stairs. She quickly jogged down the stone steps being careful not to stumble over herself. Again she called for him, letting his name echo through the lower level along with the sound of her shoes against the cold stone floor.
A heavy iron door swung open, stopping the fuming maiden's escapade of the lower level.
"Sir Integra? What's going on?" Seras inquired, rubbing her sleep ridden eyes with the back of her gloved hand.
She didn't answer but instead continued down the dark hallway. Why, of all times, did he choose now to be a pest?
The dark hallway seemed to go on forever, that or she was simply getting impatient. But after walking the distance she knew was the length of the passage, she realized that it was indeed going on much long than it should've.
"Alucard?" Her voice called, unwavering despite her gut instinct to flee.
The darkness of the room seemed to set in around her, smothering any ounce of light that was previously in view.
"What are you doing?"
Still no response. Was he trying to test her mind again? Trying to see if it were possible make the iron maiden beg for help? She'd have none of it.
"Stop this, now." Her voice was cool and collected with a hidden aggression, like a predator waiting for its prey to take a step too close.
Silence.
Darkness.
Nothing.
Integra turned slowly in the direction she came with no intention of running but instead seeking assistance.
"Seras?" she called softly, but there was no word from the strawberry blond.
Integra reached inside her suit, feeling for the grip of her gun. She slowly closed her eyes when she felt its absence. She dropped her hand to the side and shifted her weight to the right. A smile crept across her face.
"If you honestly think that you're going to scare me like this," her eyes opened, "then you've sorely miscalculated."
She waited for a chuckle, a response, red eyes, anything. Seconds passed and still nothing.
"Alucard!" She screamed. "Answer me! I order you to answer me now!"
Her heart was pounding out of her chest. Cold bit into her feet and suckled her fingertips, but sweat formed on her brow. She closed her eyes again. Where did he get the nerve to ignore a direct order?
The smile returned to her face. "I'm going to be late." She stated taking a step backward.
"Wait a minuet." Water soaked her hair and coldness embraced her with welcoming arms.
Blue eyes pierced the darkness in realization. "It wasn't a dream."
A crack of thunder jolted her body. The darkness had fled but her blurred view wasn't much of an improvement. A throbbing headache raked her skull, the only slight relief being the rain that gently slid through her hair.
The limousine's horn blared loudly, further provoking her migraine. Slowly, she lifted her head from its awkward placement. Every little motion seemed to cause more pain, ceaseless in its persistence.
"Hello?" her voice quivered. She couldn't see much, but what she could make out was a broken window and it wasn't hard to realize it had been her head that shattered the glass.
Maxwell's pained growl caught her attention.
"So you're not dead then." She stated.
Enrico was too busy with his own injury to notice Integra had woken up. A large chunk of the glass divide between the chauffer and his employers had found its way to the back seat and into Maxwell's stomach. He watched in horror as deep red blood profusely seeped from the laceration.
"Not like this, not in a car accident." He mentally cried. Grabbing the glass shard, he let out a pained scream as he attempted to pull it out. Hands covered in blood, he trembled as the glass finally loosened from his body. The sickening sound of his flesh releasing the clear intrusion caught Integra's ear.
"Not dead, yet." She corrected.
"Not like this." He muttered holding his innards in place and throwing the glass onto the floor of the limo. While reaching for the door handle with his free and now scarlet hand he yelled, "I'm not going to die like this!"
The limo shook as the priest lifted his weight from it.
"Get out of the car Hellsing."
Integra closed her eyes again, leaning back into the leather seats. Her head throbbed with the worst migraine she'd ever felt. Every little noise was torture, but the blaring horn created by the dead chauffeur's weight was agony. Even through the pain, though, she felt herself being lulled to sleep by some soothing embrace.
The door next to her swung open.
"I said get out of the car, you damned heretic!"
Her eyes rolled over to look at him. Maxwell's figure was slightly hunched over, still clenching his stomach with one hand but now holding a gun with the shaking opposite. Because of her blurred vision, she could only be sure he was holding a gun when the priest pulled the slide back with his teeth.
"A far cry from Alucard." She thought.
"I said get out of the car!" Now he was actually screaming at her. Cold steel found a place against her head, a tender spot which made her recoil further into the car.
"Drop dead." She commanded calmly, slowly lying down across the seats. How had the desire so sleep become so strong?
Maxwell grabbed the sleeve of her jacket. "Get out!" Integra felt herself being jerked out of the car.
She felt the cold wet ground below her hands and knees and the rain pounding against her back.
Maxwell grinned. The Protestant, on her hand and knees below him. Just how it should be in his opinion.
"What are you trying to do, Maxwell? Have me shoot you so everyone will think you went down fighting the heretics until the end?"
The Catholic and Protestant traded expressions. Smiling, Integra held on to the side of the limousine for balance as she tried to stand. However, after finding she couldn't keep her equilibrium even with the automobile for support, she settled on sitting on her knees and leaning against the limo with half lidded eyes.
Enrico finally replied with an unsettling sweetness, "Then I'll take you with me."
Still, with a splitting headache and all, Integra was sill quicker at drawing her gun than Maxwell was at firing his own. Rather than shooting him and giving him his "glorious" ending, she simply jammed the end of her weapon into his wound.
Enrico screamed as both his hands seized the intrusive metal. He dropped to his knees, moaning loudly and shaking furiously.
Integra re-positioned herself so she now sat with legs stretched out before her. The priest had fallen down on his side and the only a quiet Latin prayer could be heard from him. He pulled a rosary from his breast pocked and intertwined it within the bloodied fingers of his right hand. If he was crying, the rain hid it well.
"Does it hurt Maxwell?"
He didn't respond, only closed his green eyes and continued praying.
"Good."
His eyes slowly opened again. "Sadist."
"I want you to feel the pain for all the innocent lives you had destroyed in the name of God."
"I disposed of only the devil's children. No innocent people were harmed."
"Bullshit." She responded with a light chuckle.
"I want to know where you got the nerve to take lives in God's name. How could you justify killing a person simply because they didn't share your beliefs?"
"Hypocrite." He began coughing. The fire that once livened up their little arguments had died in the rain.
"I'm not talking about killing vampires, Priest. The so called 'heretics' you massacre any opportunity you get, how do you justify it? I know they infuriate me with their speeches against God, but it's not my place to judge them. That is death's divine right."
"But you too are a heretic, you wouldn't understand." Blood leaked from the side of his mouth and the pool of crimson around him had grown considerably. He lost the feeling in his legs and hands but continued holding his rosary the best he could.
"I'm Christian, as are you. Like it or not, we do have the same God. The way we worship Him is our only difference. So how do you manage to kill fellow Christians simply because they are not Catholic? Moreover, how do you feel you have the right to kill any living person for simply having different opinion on religion?"
"You're only further proving me right in calling you a heretic by asking me that. I didn't kill innocent people. I destroyed all threats to my God and the Church, and I don't need you trying to corrupt me before my death."
My death… the words left a sour taste on his tongue.
"Hah!" Integra laughed sarcastically, bringing up a hand to her temple after she did so. "I believe you're too headstrong to be corrupted, Catholic."
"Make them see, Enrico."
His brows furrowed. Shaking his head, he tried to rise to his feet once again.
"I'll kill them! I'll kill all the heretics! I'll make them beg for mercy!"
"I'm not going to die like this."
"I don't believe you have much choice in the matter." Integra responded quietly.
After managing to rise to his feet, they dieing priest took a stumbling step forward. The rain pounded down, washing some of his blood with it.
"I didn't listen." He whispered harshly. "I could have…and I didn't do anything."
Integra didn't bother commenting. He was probably too far gone mentally to even hear her. She watched as he fell to the ground again in a coughing fit. Afterward, he didn't say a word and with her blurred vision she couldn't tell if he was even still alive.
"How does death taste Enrico?"
When the priest's name left her lips, an unnerving inkling made her wonder if she should ask herself the question.
Not the last chapter. I apologize for my horrendous writing. Lately, I seem to be in a writing technique slump. Also, I have bad grammar as if you couldn't tell. But, even if it is crap, this fic I will finish. Next chapter inspired by Green Day's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams". No, not a song fic. Just inspired by it. feel free to review, I can handle flaming and I give you e-love if you can give me any good suggestions.