Chapter Three
- Crisis of Faith

East End. The working class used to live there, the Museum of Childhood used to host activity for every child of God. It now lay in ruins; he stood among the rubble.. Anderson attempted to ignore the devastation surrounding him, the corpses of young lads and lasses that were decomposing at the moonlight without a proper burial. He focused on his prayers, on his task and on dodging the rocks and cutting items that the wraiths threw in his direction.

"Crux sancta sit mihi lux," Anderson trailed off, closing his eyes and twisting his lips in a grin. He was expecting them to come closer; he called the rain of bible pages that twirled and shielded him. "Non draco sit mihi dux…"

"You are no holy man to give us blessings!" He heard them shout, "God is not with you!"

"Vade retro satana…" Anderson added, hesitating. They laughed and created a wind strong enough to disperse the pages that served as protection.

"The fallen can't help the fallen, sir," a little girl appeared and disappeared on his sides – flickering and fading within a blink.

Fallen. The word cut at Anderson, it was as painful as if one of his bayonet had stabbed his soul.

I am excommunicated, Anderson reminded himself. Could I wield the power of God if His own vicar has cast me out of grace? Those grim thoughts paralysed him, his faith faltered. He used to be a fanatic in his religion, being left out, even with possibilities of reincorporating, was a great shame.

He was too distraught with his own ponderings, his own stigma to even notice the two walls that were teetering over him about to squish the life out of his body. He did realize when his feet left the ground. A chill shot through her body, the company of the undead. He looked up and growled at Seras Victoria who was carrying him away from the battlefield.

"Draculina!"

"Look down, prat," Seras growled back. "Do you want to return down there?"

Anderson glared at her intensely before looking down the spot where he had been standing. The cloud of dust vanished and he watched the two chunks of brick crash together. "No," he admitted. "They will be following us."

"The wards from Integral's ancestors will repel them as usual," Seras told him, increasing her speed suddenly. Anderson gathered she was most sensitive to the spirit's presences. He closed his eyes, mentally praying for God forgave his doubts and to give him courage to face Integral's wrath at his failure.

-----

"Another failure, Anderson," Integral stated, slightly irritated, dropping the report that the wretched she demon had given to her earlier. She pressed her lips in a thin line and stood. "What is wrong with you? The task should be easy enough for your abilities. I assumed the mishaps wouldn't repeat six times… Her Majesty is pressuring me. The rebuilding of London must begin and we cannot afford the Capital to be a bloody haunted city!"

Anderson looked at her solemnly, he had no excuses to justify his actions nor would he be so cowardly as to hide behind them. "It's my fault, Sir Hellsing. I lost the ability to wield God's grace when I was excommunicated."

"Only for that? A crisis of faith?" Integral asked, lifting an eyebrow. Her contained anger seemed to abate. She pulled out a cigar from her pocket and toyed with the stick with her hands. "Come with me."

"Where to?" Anderson rose and followed the departing woman.

She paused, turning her head and replying, "The cemetery, I need an escort and Seras is occupied with another task."

Integral led him to the Hellsing graveyard, driving carefully through the forest towards the hill where it lay. The ghosts did not frequent the woods. Anderson thought the woods must host another kind of creatures that did not welcome the spirits of the dead, but they ought to be careful. She parked the car in front of the gates and unlocked them once both descended.

Anderson grimaced at the sight of hundreds of white tombstones in front of him. His hands summoned bayonets. No one would harm Integral, she could not regenerate like himself.

"The dead are truly resting here, Anderson," Integral pointed out, "Your weapons are unnecessary."

Anderson inclined his head and complied with her unspoken request to vanish the bayonets. "The dead are haunting the living homes instead of their own," he commented, thinking the circumstances quite ironic. "You didn't bring flowers," he noted.

Integral shook her head, stopping in her path and spinning to face him. "I didn't come to visit the fallen. I brought you here to look at them." She gestured to a section of the cemetery on her left. "Those over there were Eastern Orthodox followers," her hand now pointed to the right, the fresher graves. "The Wild Geese weren't Christian at all."

"I don't understand," Anderson admitted, staring at his chief and then to the pointed directions.

"They all served a protestant organisation," Integral cleared up, smiling in his direction. "Even if they weren't members of a structured religious system, that did not mean they lost their faith. Even the pagan mercenaries had faith in what they were doing," she walked towards him, brushing his shoulder as she passed. "You should think a way to recover it, Anderson."

Anderson listened to her footsteps as she retired to leave him alone among the dead. The corpses did not speak; they were quiet as they should be, at peace. He walked through the tombstones and scanned the names of the former soldiers, the dates of death and mused on what Integral had told him. She was right, but his case was special, he was a fanatic religious and the fervour could not be sparked once more so easily.

I have to try, Anderson vowed to himself. Regardless of his doubts, the impotence of not being able to fulfil her commands grated him. He feared Integral would deem him useless and return him to the Vatican like a broken item - to the empty cell in the catacombs.

Far from her.

His eyes narrowed with newfound determination and turned to return towards the car, closing the gates after his exit. Integral waited for him, starting to engine when she made eye contact.

"During the war you spoke the dead should be quiet and still. You must educate them again."

"I will," Anderson smiled at her, sliding on the passenger seat. "You have my word."

-----

He felt the Draculina when she entered to the kitchen, her cold aura brought out several killing instincts that were induced from his training, yet he refrained from acting on them. He also ignored the uncomfortable sensation provoked by her staring and kept with his task – frying bread and fixing tea.

"Anderson, what the hell are you doing?"

Anderson did not bother to turn and look at her. "What does it look like?" he merely responded before arranging the bread next to the black pudding.

"Terrorizing the personnel? The cook told me you booted him from the kitchen," Seras said with a tone dripping in sarcasm. "You didn't heat me blood to drink, I am wounded."

Anderson snorted, "This isn't for you, Draculina." He returned to his task and scrutinised the tray to see if everything was on order. The pork sausages were in the same plate as the grilled tomatoes, to their right were the baked beans, mushrooms and kidneys, and to the left, several condiments, the black pudding, the butter and the fried bread. He took a teacup and put it near the steamy pot before lifting the tray. A full English breakfast. He hoped Integral would like it.

"She's in her office," Seras informed him, grinning. "Sir Integral always takes her breakfast there." Then she added under her breath something in French he could not understand except it was related to croissants.

"Thank you," Anderson forced himself to mutter and headed to his destiny. In his path, he gained a few shocked glances from the soldiers and the staff but he paid no heed to them, continuing. Upon arriving, he knocked the door and cleared his throat. "Sir Hellsing, it's me."

"Anderson?" she sounded surprised. "Come in."

Anderson opened the door, carrying the tray with his right hand. "I am sorry it took me so long."

She not only sounded surprised, she looked stunned as well. Anderson congratulated himself for baffling Sir Integral Fairbrooks Wingates Hellsing. "You shouldn't," she stated, removing the files and laptop for him to place the tray before her.

"On the contrary, Sir Hellsing," Anderson smiled kindly, "It's the least a soldier without use like me could do for his leader." There was bitterness in his words, he felt like a burden to her and it was not fair. He was aware she went through a lot of troubles and negotiation to get him out of that cell, to act as her new ace of death only to disappoint her in her goals.

"Anderson," Integral let go a sigh. "You are not useless, understand this? You are both a wonderful asset and a great conversationalist."

"They were going to bring you tasteless toast along with the tea. I thought you should eat something more nourishing," he told her, appreciating her words even if he disagreed with them. He picked up the pot and started pouring tea in her cup. "I was going to add haggis to the menu but I was uncertain if you'd appreciate a Scottish dish among the British variety."

"I must confess I never imagined you this… domestic," Integral chuckled, nipping at a sausage. "It's well done. Delicious, Anderson."

"Thank you, Sir Hellsing. You forget that I ran an orphanage and I used to help with the kitchen as well," Anderson commented, longing to see his children again. How he missed sharing his spare time with the innocent creatures he cherished the most.

"Anderson… one of your former colleagues will visit us soon," Integral informed him, opening the second drawer and pulling out a letter with the seal of the Vatican. "I got this letter early this morning."

"Who?"

"Wolfe Heinkel," Integral replied, picking up her cup of tea, blowing the steam and sipping it. "I gather that she's sent to see if you have progress in your penance," she added after taking mouthfuls of the content. "She is going to stay in the Mansion. It's dangerous to travel near the city."

"Sister Heinkel?" Anderson inquired, relieved. She was still on his side more or less. "When she will be arri-" The door opened before he could finish his question. A soldier burst in, breathless.

"Sir! There's an intruder Captain Victoria wants you to know about!" he exclaimed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "It's a dangerous vampire."

Integral rose, leaving the cup on the tray. She closed the drawer and exchanged a look with Anderson. "Lead the way," she ordered.

Anderson's jaw clenched. He would personally put out of misery the leech who ruined his cooking's flavour. It never tasted the same cold. Integral ushered him out and he loomed behind her, anxious to make himself useful again and prove his worth.

He could still silence the noisy undead.

Anderson escorted Integral to the Mansion main threshold and surveyed the current situation. The soldiers were positioned in front of the building in a belt shield. Seras was in the middle, strangely not carrying a weapon and swirling her tendril restlessly.

No, she had been armed, Anderson corrected his initial observation. On her feet were the metal chunks of what remained of the Harkonnen, a clean slice.

"Sir Integral!" Seras turned around, sounding distressed. "It's a special messenger from my Master."

Anderson glanced at Integral, a shadow crossed her features briefly. She seemed agitated by something.

"Let him speak," she said icily.

"Good morning, Sir Integral," a cultured, male voice greeted her. By the accent the owner must be British. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

"My breakfast only. What is your business here? This is no longer your home," Integral stated with a chilling coldness. Anderson wondered what brought her sudden change of attitude.

"That's true. My new home is in Romania with my new Master, but your rudeness is appalling. I taught you better, Integral." Anderson turned to peer over the soldiers, with his height it was not very difficult to accomplish. He was intrigued by this vampire; anxious to stab him and send him to hell. His hands opened and closed.

"I am returning the manners of one who trespasses without announcing himself," Integral retorted, stepping forward. Seras immediately moved to her right and Anderson did the same to her left.

"My sincerest apologies but my Master required my messenger skills to demand an appointment with you."

"With what purpose? He shan't demand anything from me."

"Why, Sir Hellsing, getting rid of your little infestation once and for all."

Anderson could distinguish the dark figure clearly now, his mouth nearly hung open from shock. No wonder the voice sounded familiar, he had known this man briefly but neither had established a conversation. Standing cloaked in black, sporting a monocle and a ponytail, there was Walter Kumm Dornez with red eyes and no looking older than thirty.


Author's Notes: Thanks to Dreadnot to edit this chapter and to all the reviewers.