"Excessive love of pleasure"
(Of Gluttony, Dante in the Divine Comedy)

Chapter Two
- Gula

Anderson recalled more now. Bits of the fragmented memories wove together inside his broken mind. There had been pleasure, pain and so much blood. Along with the blood there was hunger.

The intensity of his thirst had struck his weakened system, he had pushed the Draculina aside to lunge at the vampire looming over them. He had opened his arms, welcoming, almost giddy when he had leaped and pushed the devil to the ground. Dracula had laughed, baring his neck to satisfy his hunger. There was pleasure again and much more blood, Anderson could not stop drinking, not even when his thirst was quenched. He craved more. So he drank and drank until there were only a few drops left in the vampire's body.

Now Alexander Anderson licked his lips inwardly, recalling the flavour of the brief victory over the beast, the instant he had gained the upper hand – the sensation of power when Alucard had writhed beneath his weight. His grin became a frown as the images of himself lapping at the blood on the floor like a dog came next. He had wanted more. The pleasure so overwhelmed him that he had so low in his dignity. Then pain appeared once more and the world turned black.

You remember, don't you, Judas Priest?

"What, monster? How you did squirm beneath me?" Anderson spat in a tone caught between gloating and bitterness. He curled against himself on the cell floor. Days were grey, tasteless like the cement and brick of the dungeon. He preferred to let himself waste than release himself – themselves – on the world, on her.

You better forget any dominant kink if you want to lay a hand on Integral. She doesn't appreciate dominance in any but herself, Dracula informed him to his annoyance. When would he stop remind him of his weakness towards the knight? It was getting old.

"Make your point demon," Anderson growled as he felt his muscles stirring. The infernal creature was controlling his reflexes again. He stood before he could struggle to detain Dracula. "Or let me rest."

There's no rest for the wicked. Would you like to taste the pleasure? The blood? His tone was almost seductive, not reasonable, but appealing to his basic instincts. Wallowing in your gluttony and you forgot about your God and your principles.

Anderson squeezed his eyes shut. He saw himself, how he looked from Alucard's perspective licking the pond of blood like a starved animal, as the hungry demon he became. He was right, he forsook the Lord for a second of pleasure and now he was paying in this shell, this useless hell forever.

"Where are we going?" Anderson asked, his features twisted in horror as his body went through the wall. He tried to shake off his self-pity, he had to fight Dracula, to save what was left of himself.

To see Integral, Dracula must have sensed his increase in the struggle against his control, for he added, Relax, Paladin. We aren't going to take her yet. You need to see, after all, how she wallows in her personal guilty pleasures.

Anderson said nothing as their body became invisible, concealed to mortal and immortal eyes and ascended, heading towards where their former leader was.

----

Integral Hellsing frowned as she snagged the last remaining cigar out of the box. They were hard to obtain after the war, considering few dared to even bring food supplies to any zone near to London, let alone feed her little vice. She put the cigarillo between her lips and lit it, inhaling the pleasing flavour of the stick. That was the sixth she smoked that afternoon; her habit was becoming more and more addictive since her star agents had vanished. Integral had lost control and that made her feel uncomfortable, she had lost her people and thus she needed something to comfort her – smoking was filling that void.

I can quit when I want to, Integral thought, exhaling the smoke, enjoying the caress of that around her face, swirling until it vanished. I just don't want to leave it now. She shivered inwardly as if a gust of cold wind had just entered her room. She glanced at the window, but it was shut.

"Count?" she asked aloud, allowing herself to hope for a moment. But it was unlike how Dracula's presence felt, alien. There was no reply. Her eyes scanned the empty office. No dancing shadows, no misplaced red eyes, nothing to indicate supernatural presence but her own subconscious. He's gone, perhaps taking Seras to Romania, she mused when suddenly a firm knock on the door interrupted her.

"Sir Hellsing?" a soldier, her new Captain asked, "We are ready and waiting. Are you coming with us on the mission?"

Integral rose and opened her drawer extracting two revolvers filled with silver bullets. "I am Captain," she replied, chewing the cigar. "Give me a second." So there was need again to take care of new trash. It was good to have activity. Hopefully the mission would not be so dangerous as to get more of her people killed, nor so easy as to bore her out her mind. In her hurry to arm and get ready, she forgot the cross pin sitting on the desk.

----

His hand traced the wood as he swept the cross into his hand, staring down at it. It was ill-tended, the gold was dimmed instead of glittering like previous encounters in their past.

So focused on her pleasure, she no longer pays attention to your deity.

Anderson snorted, squeezing the pin in his hand, mindful of not bending the cross. "Being occupied in duty which is hardly the same as pleasure, devil," he replied.

Is that so? Dracula mentally chuckled. How little you know about her. Perhaps once Integral saw her duty as an obligation, the unpleasant side of it. But currently, her perspective is different. She thrills in destruction…

"I don't believe you," Anderson stated stubbornly and he planned to remain standing, not moving a muscle to follow Sir Hellsing.

Let me show you then.

He did not need to move, shadows wrapped his body and made him disappear, vanishing to track Integral's position to watch and wait always in hunger.

----

She felt free as she ran, dodging the obstacles, wind against her face and blowing her hair in a feral manner. She sensed the sweat on her skin, her heart pounding faster and faster in anticipation of the approaching footsteps of the moaning ghouls.

Only a little closer, Integral thought, fingering her modified hunting rifle anxiously. Her eyes glimmered as the adrenaline ran high inside her system, making her forget that once she used to rely on vampires and super humans. Hunting herself, nearly by her own was such a guilty pleasure, a surprising positive consequence of their disappearance.

Her men had captured the vampire and held him prisoner after an easy struggle. He was not one of Millennium's creations thus it would only take her destroying him to end the ghouls suffering. In the past, she would have acted as quickly and cleanly as possible, wanting to bring the former citizens peace. But now? She no longer thought them as doomed souls but as animals, slow, dumb but dangerous creatures. If she did not, the guilt and remorse for not saving all those people during the war would have consumed her.

Integral licked her lips and glanced to her left, her men waved at her from a distance with the silver chained and muzzled Midian. "Enjoy the show," she told the vampire with a cruel tone. "You took people from me. I take everything from you. It's fair trade," she stated and then loaded her rifle. Her smirk widened as she pulled up the trigger, blowing the first ghoul's head off, the dark blood was everywhere, staining their grey skin. It filled her with an immense satisfaction.

Her features hardened she had to duck a stick flying in her direction. Some were carrying rusty weapons, stones, bats. The culprit had fed on common townspeople but they could be dangerous nonetheless. She took a few steps back when they advanced and dropped the rifle, pulling her revolvers from her holsters. She opened fire once again in a merciless assault against their limbs. The bullets pierced their hands and wrists, made them useless to grab or hold anything, some even targeted their knees to affect their mobility.

Their moans of pain were lovely to Integral's ears. They were the enemy and they should suffer so much for her to enjoy the hunt.

They are coming, Integral waited for their recovery and the predictable 'snag with teeth' suicide attack, their last stand of sorts. She holstered her revolvers and brandished her sword expertly to chop their heads off when they approached. The ghouls had been slowed down by her previous attack, their poor kamikaze lunging ended in sliced craniums, severed necks and stabbed hearts, different ways of dying to become dust in the wind across the English field.

Integral sharply inhaled the stench of death surrounding her, the dust on her glasses and the blood on her clothes and found the fragrance superior to any perfume. She was slightly disappointed that it was over so quickly. Picking up her revolvers and her rifle, she headed in her men's direction, and focused her hungry gaze on her prisoner, her trophy. The vampire was both the main dish and the desert. She sheathed her sabre, she intended to toy with him before shedding his blood, before spreading his remains to the wind.

"Leave us," Integral ordered her men. The soldiers saluted, not questioning her orders, probably guessing by the expression on her face, which was twisted in a perverse smirk, that it was better not to contradict her. "Well, it seems humans are not as low on the food chain as you thought," she mocked to the snarling Midian and took a step forward. She stumbled upon something hard in the soil, metallic – it could not be a rock.

She removed her right foot to glanced down; it was her gold cross pin now stained with the blood and muck of her boot. How did I lose this here? She bent to pick it up, and in the process felt as if phantom arms wrapped around her stomach, forcing her to catch her breath. This mission is straining me more than I anticipated, she thought.

"You are wrong!" the vampire taunted before breaking into an insane cackle. "You humans are lower in the food chain!"

Integral glared in his direction, displeased to hear him burst into incoherent giggles. She replaced the clip of the weapon and fired at his mouth. Blood sprayed over her and silence reigned under the British sky.

That will teach the creature his rightful place on the food chain, she mused triumphant, wiping off the blood from her cheeks, admiring the texture of the liquid before it was gone. "We'll withdraw, let MI-5 do the cleaning," she commanded, walking towards her men and pocketing the cross pin in her coat.

There was nothing else to do after the battle, her blood appetite had nearly been quenched for the day and all she needed now was to purchase another new box of cigars to be complete. Even if she could give up both vices when she wanted to. Not yet, she assured herself, Not yet.