Several Hours Earlier
The excitement started to get to him. His tongue slid over the plastic. His fangs pressed against the bag.
Alucard pulled away. No, he would have to remain calm or the blood would be gone before he could even taste it. Slowly, he reminded himself. Calm down. It's these moments of excitement that spoil good schemes.
He settled down on the lid of the coffin. He could take his time for once. If he did this just right, it could lead to a very gratifying experience.
He had been biding his time for too long over these two centuries, expecting the Hellsings to die out much sooner, trying to wait them out, trying to outlive them. In the meantime, he resentfully survived on their meager, impersonal, unsatisfying blood offerings, suffering between the rare occasions he fed on a live human. He couldn't endure this much longer. It was clear to him now that this arrangement in his life might last a very long time yet. He might not hunt humans again for decades or longer. Unless he found a method to make this bagged blood satisfy him, he'd fall apart at the seams.
Though no one else seemed to be catching on, Alucard could sense it in himself, had felt his performance declining slowly. It was embarrassing. It grated his nerves. On one hand, this made him desire fresh blood even more. On the other hand, it pissed him off that his skill could not make up for what he lacked in feeding.
He examined the blood bag closely. In it's place, he imagined his once little master in the dark. Her words, tinged with delicious fear, rang in his head. "Don't ever yell at me like that again."
What a delightful moment that had been.
Alucard let the blood bag settle in his lap, mimicking the warmth of his master's hands. A human's flesh was so warm. It couldn't remember what it was like to generate his own bodily heat.
He tugged his gloves off, exposing his hands. This was something he hardly ever did, something that was actually quite necessary. He had the ability to manipulate his clothing, make it liquid and change it's form, make it disappear at will. But he didn't even want the memory of his gloves obstructing his touch of the bag. Indeed, the bag now felt hot under his finger tips. He was careful of his fingernails, which were somewhat elongated and sharp, a trait many vampires shared.
Alucard let his eyes close. Again, unnecessary. But he was trying to achieve a feeling, capture a mood. That night, so long ago, with little Integra smuggled away in his den. When she had demanded to bet let out, why hadn't he said, ""Not yet. It still might be a little dangerous"?
Well, she probably would have said, "Then go out there a finish your job!"
So what? He knew what to say when he wanted something. "Let Walter deal with the stragglers. In the meantime, stay here with me where it's safe." Being in close proximity with a vampire in a room with no escape is the unsafest place in the world, and Integra would probably point that out at her age now, but as a child she might have just accepted his reasoning and waited.
He sighed. The warmth in his hands was intoxicating. He settled the bag in his lap, so his hands could be free to manipulate it as he wanted. Of course, it was also very pleasing to have that warmth and that weight between his legs.
"Ok," he imagined his little master saying. "We'll wait. But how long?"
"I don't know. Maybe not long. Maybe a long time. I don't know."
"I'm not staying here all night for your amusement, servant. I think you forgot that I'm giving the orders now, not you. I'll decide when it's time to leave." Ah! Yes! The fierce master of his fantasies. A familiar sensitivity in his body stirred.
The blood bag was starting to feel very good in his lap. "Then you want to leave now, master?" His body relaxed and his back slouched. He pushed the bag slightly to increase the pressure inside his thighs, all the while patiently waiting for the moment he'd sink his teeth into his master's neck.
"Um, no. Not now." In his mind, Integra took a step closer to Alucard, and now her body was very close to him. "We'll wait a bit." Sometimes Integra did allow Alucard to make decisions for her. They were rare occasions, not because Integra didn't trust Alucard's judgment, but because she couldn't bear to forfeit any power to him, no matter how small the forfeit or how insignificant the situation. She'd allow him to make decisions when she knew her own knowledge wasn't sufficient, as long as it was clear that his decisions met with her approval and that she always remained in charge. Whatever. Little victories for Alucard, he kept score.
"Of course, master." Alucard was very aware of Integra's body. Alucard rubbed his dead hands reassuringly over her arms. She hardly reacted at first, then she began to shift uncomfortably, as someone would when the cold starts to get to them. While her hands were hot, he knew his hands were freezing and unpleasant and he could feel her start to shiver.
In the real world, Alucard slumped and rested his back against his closed coffin lid. "Are you cold?" The friction from the cloth of his pants plus the warmth of the bag was extremely pleasing.
"It's chilly in here."
Encouraged, Alucard decided to be more daring with his victim. He longed for Integra to submit to him and pleasure his needy body. If he could arouse her as well…it wouldn't be so difficult to sneak a little bite here and there, up and down her throat, along her wrists and across her belly.
Just the thought of her blood caused Alucard to shudder while torrents of pleasure rippled through him. He licked his dry lips and knew he couldn't resist the blood much longer. But if he could excite himself a little more, his primal needs might outweigh his vampiric instincts a little longer and stretch the pleasure. The idea was repulsive to him, but even as he was weighing the options, his hand slid down his stomach and between the bag and his groin where he lightly stroked his own throbbing ache.
"Mmm…"
The ivory curve of her throat would be all his…
Suddenly, in reality, the bag gave. He had been so distracted, he hadn't noticed his nails had broken through the seams of his gloves, then punctured the plastic. Blood began to squirt in all directions.
Alucard jumped up immediately in a panic. He brought the shrinking bag to his mouth and desperately sucked what he could. Not to be discouraged by multiple holes, his inky hounds leaped from his body and lapped up the other streams while the maggots and worms that fell from his suddenly morphing body drank up the blood that had spilled on the floor.
It was warm. The blood was warm.
Alucard sank to his knees, doubling over what remained of the blood, his body squeezing the bag like a boa constrictor.
Heat consumed him. A pleasant buzz radiated the path down his throat and into his stomach. The ecstasy he felt went beyond the simple taste on his tongue, although the taste was indeed intense. As he gulped, torrents of excitement began to circulate through his dead veins and light up every sense. He shuddered.
Virgin blood! Warm, fresh, noble, virgin blood.
Alucard's forehead touched the ground. It was shockingly cold. He realized he actually broken out in a sweat. His skin was damp. But he was not satisfied.
He sat up slowly. He felt dumbfounded. He looked around on the floor, looking to see if there was a pool of blood he had missed, a drop somewhere he could lick up. But it was gone. It was all gone. There wasn't any blood left. "I'm not satisfied," he said out loud, horrified at himself. He was still hungry. Very hungry. He could have slugged back gallons of that blood and it would never be enough. It was pitiful! He could not possibly achieve the same sense of fulfillment with a bag that he could with a real human, no matter how deeply he immersed himself in fantasy. Granted, it had felt good. Better then any other bagged feeding he had ever experienced, but it just wasn't the same.
He was furious. He stood up. He wanted to kill the next living thing he saw. He was going to kill the next living thing he saw. But first…
He materialized out of his room and phased into the cooler, where the walls were lined with bags upon bags of blood. Donor blood, transported from hospitals, on reserve and waiting for him and for Seres. He dove for the nearest one he saw and ripped through it, guzzling it greedily, blood splattering everywhere. Tasteless, freezing cold swill, but he dove for more and more, biting several bags at a time, blood spraying in every direction. His body was enraged and his hounds snatched up bags of their own, snarling and howling with indignation. He was going to drink it all. It was his.
"What the hell are you doing!"
Alucard spun and saw an appalled, plump maid. "Oh, God," she shouted realizing who she had just come upon, turning around to run away. "Excuse me Sir!" He didn't even need to think about chasing her down, he had already caught her and thrown her to the floor. In an instant, he was sitting on her chest.
"Someone help me! He's going to kils me!"
He slapped her hard. He nose just about exploded and the blood gushed. His eyes became impossibly wider at the sight of it. His head was spinning. He thought he might be having an orgasm. His mouth found her neck.
And he started to choke.
It was so painful. Integra's blood was fresh in his veins and so was her will, and she would not allow him to kill a human without her permission. In his madness, he had forgotten he was her servant.
The binds in his blood moved to kill him. There was nothing he could do to make it stop. He felts his own arteries spasm. He looked down at his hands, at the blue and green veins as they seized and writhed madly as it to erupt from his white skin, stretching over his bones, ready to burst.
Ever so slowly, Alucard released the maid let himself fall over, getting her out from under his body. "Run," he commanded her. She needed no prompting. She was gone before his eyes slid shut. He lay exhausted on the floor as his body convulsed.
