Diane was put on sick leave for a week. During that time, she explored the manor and grounds thoroughly. It was on the third evening she found the crypt. Pushing open the door, she bowed her head.
"May those whose shells rest here pardon my intrusion," She said softly. She walked in, glancing all around. Elaborate stone coffins rested in niches in the walls, silver nameplates shining in the light of her flashlight. She looked at each one curiously.
"'Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing. Mother, daughter, leader.' So you're the almighty Integra," Diane played her light over the coffin. It was beautifully carved with Latin inscriptions.
"'May God look favorably on her who served Him.' Good gods, how trite. Couldn't they have come up with something better for you?" She shook her head and moved on. Her light caught something yellow and she walked over. A simple brass urn was encased in the wall behind glass. An unsheathed dagger was propped in front of the urn, balanced carefully on its point. Diane's heart stopped and she almost dropped her flashlight. Swallowing hard, she stepped closer. Something was roughly carved under the nameplate. She read the plate first, her voice a thin whisper.
"'Rowan Mina Ascot. Healer and family friend. I will have you,'" Diane trembled as she looked back at the dagger. Aside from small differences, it was her dagger. HERS! Diane's knees gave out and she sank to the floor, shaking violently.
"No…no wonder they…asked me," She cried out as her dreams from the past three nights rushed to her mind, overwhelming her with images. A brunette, tall and smart and smug, who alternately teased and threatened with the blade now ensconced in the crypt. She had avoided his advances after that first night, but by then he had known. He had waited until her duty was done, then went to her, only to find her dead by her own hand. The sight of Rowan's body, beautifully arranged in a gorgeous room lit by candles still haunted Arucard. That image now haunted Diane. She banged her head on the floor of the crypt.
"Get out. GET OUT!" She raised her head, cut from the rough stone and glared at the urn.
"I am not you. Do you hear me? I AM NOT YOU!" Diane hauled back and drove the end of the flashlight into the glass. A crack appeared, spidering out as she hammered.
"I AM NOT YOU! I AM NOT YOU!" The glass shattered, the flashlight hit the dagger, knocking it over and sending the urn rocking. A gloved hand reached out and steadied the urn while strong hands hauled her away from the memorial. Diane snarled and fought, twisting violently. A hand slapped her face, hard.
"That will do, Agent Richter," Elizabeth's cold voice broke through the mania. Diane blinked several times, glanced behind her. Arucard held her, eyes blazing yellow.
"You sadistic, pouch-sucking bastard. You did this," She whispered. Arucard's lips formed a manic smile.
"Agent Richter! Explain yourself!" Elizabeth barked. Diane turned to glare at her erstwhile CiC.
"Your precious pet has been screwing with my mind. He's been sending me dreams for days, forcing me to relive his life," Diane jerked her chin at the urn.
"I saw her. I saw her laid out like a virgin offering; all lace and roses and dead. She thwarted him, denied him what he wanted. She gave Integra her blade. My blade. That was MY design! MY weapon! Not some dead bitch's who caught his eye."
"Enough! Release her," Arucard let go, dropping Diane. She stumbled, regained her balance and stood at attention.
"Agent Richter, return to your quarters. I will speak with you later," Diane turned and marched away. At the door, she paused.
"This is not over," She ran out of the graveyard. Elizabeth turned to Arucard. He carefully replaced the dagger, fingers stroking the urn.
"Explain yourself, Arucrad. That is an order."
"Diane is the third."
"Third?" Elizabeth glanced at the urn, the dagger, the nameplate. She stiffened.
"You've been chasing Wilhelmina Parker's soul?"
"Such a beautiful night, don't you think?"
"Arucard!"
"Yes, Master?" The vampire turned and grinned at the outraged human.
"You will cease this."
"It is not my decision, Master. Nor is it yours," Arucard bowed mockingly and vanished. Elizabeth ground her teeth. Taking one last look at the memorial, she whirled and stormed out of the crypt.