I own neither Hellsing nor Final Fantasy VII.
Vincent expected skepticism from them. People rarely believed him until it was too late.
"Demon? Is that your name or is it a title?"
She was very matter of fact, that one. Stance, demeanor, and attitude all marked her as the leader of the group.
"Neither of those, just a statement of fact."
A laugh drew his attention to the arrogant man who was staring at him through tinted glasses. Chaos whispered in the back of his mind, calling this one a Midian. The smirk and the cocksure attitude spoke volumes about his self-confidence.
"Why are you laughing?"
"Humans. He shrugged and shook his head. "You're always so ready to use unnecessary labels."
Seras found herself examining the coffin, searching for some clue to who this man was, and why he'd appeared here. But the only distinguishing mark on the coffin was a corporate logo. Perhaps it was more important than she thought it was….
"Are you Shin-Ra?"
He turned to face her, and for a moment his eyes shone with murderous intent. She shrank back, taking a step away from him.
"No." His voice was cold and harsh.
It took her a moment to realize that he had answered her question. Sir Integral had a quizzical look on her face, and her master was goading her on. Taking encouragement from her companions, she stepped closer to Vincent, putting herself between him and her compatriots.
"Then why does it say Shin-Ra on your coffin?" She pointed at the logo emblazoned on the lid.
"I worked for them." It didn't make sense. Had these people never heard of Shin-Ra? Something wasn't right…
"You do not look like an electrician." She stood resolute, arms crossed and jaw set.
"Where did that come from?" He studied the young woman. She was wearing a uniform, but what it signified he didn't know. Her investigative skills were unusual to say the least, but rather keen as well. But it was her red eyes and sharp fangs that stood out. It would seem that she was a vampire, just like the arrogant man.
"The logo says Shin-Ra Electric Power Company. What would a person like you do at a power company?"
"Corporate espionage, assassinations, and general hired muscle." He watched her face go slack with shock. She may not have expected his answer, but a quick glance at the others with her showed that they were not. They had the look of warriors, though the flannel pajamas the leader was wearing seemed out of place.
"Why would a power company need someone to kill for them?"
Her naiveté and wide-eyed acceptance told him that she was indeed as young as she appeared. She was young and innocent now, but how long could her kind maintain innocence?"
"They were more than just a power company. Or maybe you could say that they were crossing markets. Electrical power and political power."
A tiny current shot through the room, almost as though he'd summoned it. But when Vincent felt another current run up his spine and come to rest at the base of his skull, he knew something serious was up. Without hesitation his gun was in hand and he was prepared for the threat to manifest. The others had faded from view, but he had no time to contemplate their disappearance.
The sound of tearing cloth filled the room, and a small rip in reality appeared. A green mist came boiling through, pushing the rent ever wider. A sinister laughter set Vincent on edge. He recognized that cackle as one that haunted his nightmares, waking and sleeping. His left arm twitched, whether in sympathy or anticipation he wasn't certain, so he clenched the errant hand in a fist.
A fat cloud squeezed through, forcing the opening to double human size. As soon as the mist cleared, it revealed the source of the laughter. That greasy hair, pasty white skin, wire frame glasses, and of course the lab coat. He looked down a narrow nose, always wore a sneer of contempt, and watched everything with watery brown eyes. At just the sight of him, hatred flared strong in Vincent. But the former Turk waited, looking for the right moment to strike.
"Not precisely where I thought the exit would be, but not bad." As he moved around the room, he took no notice of Vincent standing silent and watching him.
Returning to the portal, he beckoned to someone on the other side. "Bring it through, but be careful."
The next thing to appear was a garish head. It was the gray of a weeks-old corpse, with blood vessels pulsating in red and blue. Though severed at the neck, the bloodshot eyes scanned the area and its coil like hair waved about furiously. The head was held by a pair of gloved human hands around which the hair was wrapped.
"Hojo! How could you bring that poison here?"
The professor's head snapped around like a snake, and his gaze dripped with
venom.
"The Turk? Why are you here? Well no matter. You'll not interfere with my experiments any longer." He grinned and snapped bony fingers.
The head came forward and the hands' owner phased through right after.
"You? But how?" The spark at the base of his skull exploded and Vincent's vision fogged and the darkness swallowed him.
Even as the Vincent fell to the dark, Chaos surged forward to take his place. He watched as Hojo vanished, green mist and all.