Hey all! This update has come fairly swiftly after the last one, and is quite long. Go Me! Anyway, I am very sad to announce that Children of the Night is approaching it's finale….. And after that, it shall fade away… But hey, perhaps some day I'll write a sequel maybe. Until then, we can still have fun with this one and my humour fic, eh?
And I have started a Noir C2, the maidens of death, focusing solely on Fanfics between the two maidens of Noir, Mireille and Kirika themselves. Subscribe if you wish.
Due to the nature of this chapter I believe that this chapter head will be more… appropriate. (The "perspective" of my writing will change depending on the POV of the character, expect it and don't complain that I have done some 3rd person and some 1st.)
Chapter 17. - In War, The First Casualty is the Truth.
"Wait!" Mark called, his voice hoarse from running to catch up with the small Asian who was walking quickly and purposely towards some unknown destination. Her back was stiff and her face unreadable as she trudged forwards, never once stopping for breath or a rest.
Mark was unsure of the reason that Kirika had erupted from the house, the girl had always, in the short time he had known her, been solitary and quiet. But not like this, not with such feverish indifference. It was as if she truly cared not a bit for anyone around her, such trivial matters not being worthy of her attention.
It was to do with Mireille, of this Mark was sure. The beautiful assassin had not arrived home, and judging from the expressionless and apathetic eyes of Kirika, something had happened to her…. Something bad.
"Kirika, please slow down." He begged, reaching into his holster and loosening his Beretta 92, he would have felt much more confident had he his nice M-16 or such. Instead he had followed without thinking, something Pip chastised him for constantly.
Well, all I can do is make the best of it now. But this had to stop, before Kirika drove them both into unconsciousness, they would need all their energy for the rescue mission which was sure to take place.
"Kirika!" Mark exclaimed angrily, grabbing the girl's shoulder and spinning her around, he instantly froze when her eyes met his. Nothing…. There was nothing. No fear, no sadness, no understanding. Her eyes were like slits, the lids heavily lidded and concealing her irises, making her eyes seem as empty and black as the deep night around them.
Her expression was one of pure indifference, her mouth a thin line, her facial muscles relaxed. Even though she made no move towards him, Mark shied back. The feeling of being in the presence of a predator overpowering him. Instincts from a time long past telling him he was being judged. And that his life would be easily forfeit if he were found to be a threat.
He let go of her shoulder, stepping back from the girl who still showed no emotion. Though her eyes refused to leave his own, piercing deep into his soul. It began to rain, droplets of water bouncing from his shoulders and plastering his hair to his head, the girl before him, whom he no longer considered Kirika, turned and began walking away again.
Mark watched as she headed further into the darkness, feeling a tearing sadness in his heart. The sure knowledge that one so young would die, and before even being able to express her heart to the woman she loved.
The figure stopped, seemingly oblivious of the water now pouring from the heavens. She did not turn but her voice, quiet, sibilant and yet commanding carried through the night to his ears.
"Well... are you coming... or not?" Her voice showed that she didn't care, that the question was asked to ascertain his intentions. Mark stood there in the rain, his heart pounding and his mind racing. To go with her would surely mean his death, but to leave her might mean the death of her, and of the one she loved. What was his life anyway? A mixture of pain and rejection, a loss of family and love... To be able to reunite those two...?
"Yes." Was his only answer, as he jogged up to her and attempted a smile. She looked at him and nodded, acknowledging his presence, but made no move to smile in return.
"Then come... we have no time..."
The night air felt wet to the member of the Geese who walked quietly through the garden. The wind brought the feeling of moisture to his face, alerting him that it might soon rain. But for now he had time, he needed to think...
Tall and willowy, with a long, sad, mournful face and lank black hair. The twenty five year old sniper Ricardo leant back against the wall and rested his head against the bricks. He sighed deeply to himself.
Why do I do this? I'm not meant for this... monsters, freaks, vampires... Killing men had always been so hard for him, but to fight these undead creatures was truly terrifying. I'm just not made for this. He sighed again, a little louder this time. You can always rely on the sniper, that cold, unfeeling bastard, that was how he was seen. Trustworthy and competent. Did no one see him shiver as he pulled the trigger? Did no one see the sweat that poured from his face, mixing with the tears?
A frustrated tear escaped his eye. Dammit, why am I here? I'm so frightened and so afraid that I can barely pull the trigger anymore. How can I keep a vampire in my sights when my hands shiver so?... Maybe... I should leave?
To leave... but how? Run away? Leave Pip, Mark and Luke to their fight alone, against bad odds. And all the while they would believe him captured and try and mount a rescue. A suicide mission it would be more like. A death for them all because of his cowardice... Not running then...
But perhaps... perhaps... He would be allowed to leave? He had served the Geese well for six years, following orders and bailing them out of trouble. Surely if he explained the problem to Pip, the captain would allow him to leave? Yes, Ricardo was sure. He would do so this very night. Ask Pip, get his freedom, book a flight home to England. His girlfriend would be waiting for him there. A smile tugged at his lips.
They had parted on a sore note, him having yet again been called to duty, but had soon made up over the phone. How happy she would be when she saw him, and heard from his mouth that he was there to stay. His heart was already leaping in his chest, the feeling making him foolishly giddy. He could not help but smile like a moron.
Controlling his face he reached into his pocket for a cigarette, then placing it between his teeth rummaged in another pocket for a lighter. There was a soft scrunching of grass nearby. He paused, before continuing his search. The light struck, the cigarette glowed and he took a deep drag before exhaling it in a large cloud of smoke.
The cigarette fell to the floor, his foot stomping on it to put it out as he let out a deep and sad sigh. Another sound, then another. The sound of feet padding through the grass... many feet. A shambling rustling of clothes and a short moan. Smiling sadly Ricardo reached down.
"I'm sorry Sara..." He murmured to the air. His hand drawing the Walther P90 and switching off the safety, before chambering a round. He smiled.
He span.
He aimed.
He fired.
Alucard awoke instantly, the lid from his ebony coffin flying off as he went from laying down to standing at the foot of his coffin without any movement between the two phases. His hair flew wildly in the windless basement as he let his presence wash over the entire house.
Nothing. ... Well, no vampire anyway. It seemed he was allowing his Ghouls to do the work for him. Well, that would not last long when Alucard found him!
"Master?" Seras cried out in a shocked voice as she struggled from her coffin, grabbing any weapons that lay around. Her eyes met his in her frantic search. So afraid, so scared she was, but she would fight, fight because of her loyalty to Hellsing... and due to her loyalty to him as her master. That she was willing to risk her life to protect him... Alucard boomed out loudly.
"The Night Hath Come,
The War Hath now Begun.
The Ground, the grass, the Mud,
It shall soon run red with blood!"
"An enemy from ancient times faces us Seras, this claim to our bond shall not go unpunished!" Seras was confused for a moment, before she felt her hackles rising and her breath escape her in an angry hiss.
The knowledge came to her, her vampiric instincts reacting to her master's words. Someone wished to take her bond for their own, make her their vampire. Take her away from Master! Take her away from HER Master!
Her arms raised, the Harkonnen gripped in one hand, an M-60 Heavy machine gun clutched in the other. She bared her teeth in a fanged grin.
Together they raced from the basement, up the stairs and into the main corridor. There, Pip met them, kicking down a ghoul which was trying to gnaw at his leg before discharging another shot into it's head. He reloaded his Colt as he ran up to them, Luke just behind him.
"Merde, we're under attack!" He cried in his heavy French accent. "A horde of damned Ghouls! I don't think we can hold them all off. Not on our own anyway..." He added looking at Alucard meaningfully. It was well known that the tall Nosferatu hated dealing with Ghouls, their being too below his station.
"There is no problem. This rabble is the brood of a true vampire. As such they will crumble when I rip off his HEAD!" He exploded in a black cloud of bats, streaming through a smashed window and out into the grounds which were swarming with what must have been a good proportion of the area around them. All tuned into Ghouls.
"He seems fairly pissed." Pip commented before they were all too distracted to talk.
The night is cold, wet, damp. Her breath forms small clouds as it escapes from her mouth. She knows she is close, the address from a hateful letter burned into her mind, guiding her footsteps as her mind wandered.
They leave the town, the city behind them. A small military base looms ahead of them, an abandoned barracks perhaps? As she and her companion come close she notices two men approach them. Their handguns are concealed, and yet they make no motion to draw them. She can smell the sweat from them, the acrid scent of gunpowder as they approach her.
"So you have come, follow me peacefully an-" A bullet interrupts his speech, exploding through his face as blood spurts onto his friend, his partner swears but none of this Kirika hears, as she leaps forwards, reaching the man before his hand even enters his jacket. She looks up into his face as she presses her gun against his breastbone, his eyes are wide in fear. Her own are empty. She pulls the trigger, a mighty recoil, aided by the weight of the body dropping on her arm. She shoves the body back and searches for more targets.
The night is empty, there is no one else to kill here. The man who followed her moves forwards, passing her and toying with a small metal box at the side of the door, a few seconds later and the light flashes green, as the door slowly creaks open.
Kirika goes in first, her eyes not moving, and yet unfocused, taking in all detail without a search. The room is empty, she can see it and she can also sense it.
Why am I here? Why do I do this...? ... Noir? The name brings a surge of emotion to her. Emotion is rare, she contemplates as she dodges a guard's bullet and places one in his forehead.
I search for someone? Yes... Who? I am Noir... no... We are Noir... The man? No...an ally... friend? Yes... Mark. Another surge of emotion, a warm settling in her stomach. He is one to be protected. But then who is my other half?
She enters another room, four men, spin, their faces etched with shock. Her Beretta M1934 raises instantly, beating them all as she fires three shots and kills three, the bullets piercing their chests. She reloads as the man, Mark, kills the other.
As she leaves the room, covered in blood, a memory comes to her. A short girl, pale skin and magenta coloured hair. The picture brings more emotions, pain, loss, yet also anger and betrayal. She is not Noir!... She...?
A streak of blonde, perhaps hair, a light fair skinned face, bright blue eyes and red lips. A gentle caressing voice, a smell of lilac, a fresh scent mixed with gunpowder. The emotion that hits her almost makes her stumble. Like an actual pain in her heart. The girl feels the area searching for blood. She has not been shot, a salty substance rolls down her cheek.
More pictures form, a tall graceful form, long legs a beautiful body, full of curves. An angel of a woman, her smile gentle and her face warm and loving. This time the girl does stumble. Landing on one knee as she wipes at the tears now pouring from her eyes. The man kneels by her, offering his aid, Kirika nods to him in thanks. Accepting the arm he offers to help her up.
There is an alarm ringing. A loud piercing siren that drones on and on as they head down the long metal corridor, it goes ignored by the blank faced Asian girl. Memories and emotions assault her, and she has no time for any alarm. A man leaps from an alcove, he is dead before his leap is even complete. Stumbling on legs that no longer work as he crashes into the opposite wall.
Mireille A voice whispers in her mind, a soft quiet voice. The girl recognises it as another version of herself's voice. The name makes her throat block as a sob threatens to escape her.
"Mireille..." She whispers, the name making her feel the pain in her chest a hundred fold. A black cat, green eyes, a note... Love...
"Mireille!" She says again, this time louder. Two guards rush around the bend firing at her, she does not attempt to kill them from range.
"MIREILLE!" She screams, the name making her erupt into action. One man falls grasping his windpipe which has been crushed by a strong blow. The other tries to move backwards to fire, but Kirika's arm is already around his head, a strong tug and a sickening snap later and he joins his comrade in death.
The pain of the emotion coursing through her, tearing through her insides makes the instincts of the beast kick in. Pain means a threat, a threat must be removed. Need to kill more...
"Kill... no... Mireille... SAVE!" Her mind snaps in clarity, a howl escapes her lips and she rushes forwards, her eyes slitted in anger, pain and hate. Any who would stand between her and her love shall perish...
The Ghouls were weakening, of this Seras was sure. They seemed to fight with less speed, less coordination, as if the brain which controlled them was far away. And perhaps her analogy was closer to the truth than she knew. Without the master vampire to swell their ranks and keep Alucard busy the Ghouls were falling like chaff.
Seras easily dodged below a slow lunge and slammed her fist into the ghoul's stomach, her hand coming away covered in black gore. Ughh... lovely...
"Ey! Seras!" A French voice called out, Seras turned and fired a quick barrage from her M-60 into a bunch of Ghouls, the swathe of bullets actually cutting them in half.
Pip reached her during a lull in the fighting, panting and covered in blood, he seemed in good enough shape.
"Seras, it's your job to help keep us humans alive you know!" Seras blushed slightly and stuck out her tongue at him, making the mercenary captain grin before looking around. A deep voice, the voice of her master boomed around them.
"That doesn't matter now, this battle is won." There was a fierce explosion it seemed, a raging fire outside the windows and the shrieks of a thousand tortured souls as they burned to a cinder. Pip's face was white with shock. But Seras, her vampiric instincts surfacing smiled in glee. Her master had smashed this pathetic claim on her bond, had crushed the enemy!
A few moments later and they were outside. Alucard was sitting on a patch of burnt ground, a dead ghoul at his feet. Luke and Pip were searching for any Ghouls left inside the house. Seras was sitting alone, a small black kitten asleep in her lap.
That such a cute and small creature had managed to survive the war they had waged in their own house was a miracle. The small thing must have hidden itself and then sensed the peace. Seras knew it belonged to Kirika... she had read the tag...
Love...? So they love each other...? Will I ever love? Her eyes were drawn to her master, his back slumped as he stared into the ghoul's empty eyes, apparently deep in concentration. Master? Do I love him...? How can I?... he's a monster!... But then... So am I. This was too confusing. The kitten, the small bundle which sat in her lap. That was simple, and simple was what she needed right now.
"Oh no." A voice moaned, Seras turned as the cat leapt from her lap. Scurrying into the house. She climbed to her feet and approached Pip who seemed to be standing by something against the wall. When Seras saw what it was she felt a feeling of misery settle in her stomach.
The body was barely recognisable. It was slumped against the wall of the house, it's eyes empty, the pupils mere pinpricks. Ricardo, sniper of the Wild Geese stared at them with unseeing eyes.
"Why did this have to happen...?" Pip whispered as he knelt by his comrade. The sniper's body had been mutilated. He had no legs, his body ending at his waist and his left arm was torn... or eaten off. His right hand clutched a blood covered handgun. His face had a huge gash down one side, tearing through his mouth and down his neck. His blood had already stopped flowing long ago.
Pip reached forwards and closed the man's eyes for the last time, touching his forehead and letting a sad sigh escape his lips as he climbed to his feet. Seras moved forwards to help him but he shook his head. Luke moved forwards and seemed to be whispering something to Ricardo, saying his last farewells. Pip pulled out his colt and fired a single silver bullet into Ricardo's forehead. Silencing him as a human, and preventing his soul from ever becoming that of a ghoul.
"Dammit. He was so frightened... he was scared... and yet he always fought, always followed orders! He was a good man..." Seras noticed bodies surrounding the sniper, Ghouls who had the customary silver bullet embedded in them. Even trapped and being killed, Ricardo had obviously fought like a demon. "They'll pay..." Pip's voice was hoarse, his eyes unfocused. "They'll pay. I will have vengeance... You will be avenged friend."
The grieving captain walked quickly away, disappearing into the house, Seras stood outside still. She could feel the captain's soul breaking. His heart shattering as he lost his men, each piercing his heart as he took the burden of their death upon his own shoulders.
"And he will force himself to be the one to tell Ricardo's love..." Luke whispered, as if reading her mind, or perhaps just the emotions on her face. Seras nodded quickly, it wasn't Pip's fault that he had died... "Uhh...Mark and Noir are gone." Luke reported quietly to her. "Without a struggle, I think they left before the battle. But where to..."
"Don't tell him. He has enough on his mind now." Luke nodded and the two of them walked away, to find somewhere to rest whilst not intruding on the captain's grief.
Alone outside, Alucard continued to stare into the ghoul's eyes. Forcing his will into it, breaking through it's barriers. Inside he was confused. Such an attempt at stealing Seras from him... It was pitiful. Where was the challenge? The duel?
A claim for a bond was always fought by duel, a vampire nearly as old as he was. Such a vampire would follow tradition, so where had he been when he sent his Ghouls to their death. He forced forwards with his mind, the natural barrier around the ghoul's mind crumbling at last. Finally, let's see what your last orders were... He rummaged.
Go now my army. Go and die. Keep Dracul away. Alucard's red eyes snapped open, his mouth twisted in a snarl as realisation dawned. The bastard was not after Seras!
A moment, a direction. An explosion as Alucard erupted into a million bats, screaming and chattering as they flew to the west away from Münster. To where battle still raged.
The metal corridors are empty. A single steel door awaiting them at the end. The alarms still ringing, still alerting men to it's call. But dead men can not be woken.
Mark rushes forwards, but the door needs no tinkering. Opening immediately as he nears it, the room inside is empty. Merely a square room with another door opposite this one.
Kirika enters calmly. There is no threat here. Mark follows slowly, she can sense his fear. But also his determination to help her, it is refreshing. They both walk to the other door, Kirika presses the button. The door remains closed. Mark moves forwards, taking the steel control box apart and slowly meddling with the insides. He murmurs something about it being complicated. But Kirika knows no door will keep her from her destiny.
There is a swish and the door behind them closes, locking them inside. A large projection appears on the opposite wall. A man appears.
"It's him!" Mark exclaims, "The führer!" Kirika looks at the man who would be their number one target. Short and fat with a smile that almost seems to split his cheeks. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of glasses, his hair in a neat comb over.
"Very Good. Very Good indeed." The man speaks, his accent heavily German, "No doubt you are the famous Noir? Or at least you would be if your partner were with you." Kirika moves forwards as the man smiles, she makes no comment but she doesn't have to. The camera pans to the side, and there she is. Like a fallen angel she lays on a metal bed, her arms latched to the surface. She looks asleep, but more likely that she has been drugged.
"She will make a fine addition to our army of vampires." The man exclaims happily. Kirika takes a step forwards, the very thought that they might do that to her love!
"Unfortunately for you, my not very talkative friend, you must die. Auf Wiedersehen." The projection goes off, and a loud hissing sound fills the small room. Kirika looks around and sees a clear gas being pumped through the vents. Mark swears angrily, his efforts to open the door double.
The gas reaches her and she tries to hold her breath, but lack of oxygen forces her to breathe in the hateful substance. It flows into her lungs like thick syrup, making her hack loudly in an effort to clear them.
Already she can feel it taking effect, her mind swims, and her vision blurs in and out of focus as she fights to remain conscious. Mark too let's out a hacking cough but does not stop his work.
It would be so easy... Kirika realises as her body seems to lose all energy and her eyes become heavy. So easy to go to sleep now. To never awake again, no more worries, no more death. No more sin... Her mind feels heavy, as if all the blood is rushing to the front and making her lean forwards.
"So easy... to die...then- NO! Mireille!" Her eyes snap open. Her mind clears in an instant and she chokes down the bile rising in her throat. The door swishes open and Mark falls through, three blurred shapes are there. The figures seeming to shift in her drug induced vision. She lifts her Beretta and fires all seven shots in their direction. Through either luck or skill the three men fall.
She rushes forwards to stand protectively over Mark as he fights to regain his breath and stand. She waits... He stays on his side, hacking loudly.
Suddenly afraid Kirika kneels down and lifts him up, hoping to let him better clear his lungs. He looks at her, his eyes wide in realisation, a realisation that Kirika finds a moment later. He's dying... His eyes focus for one second and he smiles at her, a happy smile, a smile that tells her to save Mireille. His body rocks as he coughs loudly again, the battle is a losing one as he runs out of air and blood dribbles from his lips.
His eyes fall and his body stills. The poison having made him choke on his own blood... she feels wetness in her eyes. And sadness in her heart... Mark... Laying him down she rises to her feet, not once looking back as she goes to confront those who took him from her, and those who would try to take Mireille from her.
Her own insides are in turmoil, there is wetness in her throat, the taste of blood is strong. Her strength waxes also. She does not care, if she must die then it will be so that Mireille might live.
A door catches her attention, two men lay dead outside.
The door opens...
The scene is from a nightmare, bodies lay everywhere, blood covers the wall gruesomely. The men were not killed by a gun, they were ripped to pieces. Limbs lay discarded, bodies lay mangled. Their target the führer, pinned to a wall by what looks to be a chair leg.
A voice calls out, weak and dying, it is the girl that serves Carlos, she crawls near to Kirika. There is a huge hole in her stomach, as if something leapt through her, tearing out her insides as it went.
"Vampire..." She whispers before dying. Kirika feels tears roll down her cheeks again. It's over...
The bed; destroyed. Mireille; gone. Not a body. Taken by the vampire. No doubt it's original target. Gone where? Kirika did not know, and so how could she find her love...?
Not that it mattered anymore. She had failed and Mireille would be made to pay the price, but Kirika would not go unpunished... She was already dying. Already the bile is too much to fight, her vision swims again as her insides flush up her windpipe, choking her and killing her. Her knees strike the floor as she clutches uselessly at her throat. Trying to scratch through the skin to clear it.
MIREILLE! Her mind screams in terror, loss and sorrow.
"Mirei...ll..e." Her voice croaks uselessly as she dispels the last of her air and falls forwards into the deepest darkness she can see before her. I'm so-r-r-y...
... Sniff... Another cliff hanger. Mai will kill me. Against all odds, for the first time ever I think I actually liked a chapter that I have written. Obviously not for content but for the way it's written. Please Review, it would make me feel better...
For my own conscience, since Lain warned me. I meant no offence with this chapter. The Führer is in Kohta Hirano's Hellsing manga, a real character, he is by no means a reincarnation of Hitler, he has simply taken on that title. Please forgive me if you were offended, I did not mean to do such. Only to entertain.