Disclaimer: Again, see the first chapter.
Authors Note: Short chapter last time. Sorry! If your wondering, this story follows absolutely no timeline, except for maybe before the war thing people keep talking about. ;
Chapter Three
As it turned out, the next flight out was not quite as soon as he had expected. It had been delayed due to some accident, and then delayed again because of storm weather. It took Anderson until five in the morning to actually board the plane. Then, when things looked like they were fine, the engine was faulty. So it was another long wait.
It didn't surprise the priest at all when his phone rang, and when answered, it seemed to spit fire at him. Maxwell was obviously losing his head without him. He definitely knew something bad was happening over there.
He was, once again, ordered to get back by any means possible, as fast as he could, and if he didn't, that it would be his head being delivered on a silver platter to some person he had never met.
When his plane was replaced, it was noon, and his patience had been running low. When the engine started without fuss, and when they were up in the air, Anderson decided he needed a nap. He slept through the whole ride, and when they landed, he departed, to meet Walter at the terminal.
Anderson slept during the car ride, and when he woke up, they were outside a large warehouse. He didn't remember ever being there in his life, and cursed himself for sleeping during the ride. Maxwell seemed to know the place well enough, so Anderson relaxed a bit.
Inside it looked like a mad scientists dream. Weird scientific projects were being tended to, and some of the test tubes held weird humanoid things. Anderson was thoroughly disgusted.
They entered a room at the back, which seemed to be an office of sorts. The man sitting opposite the desk looked extremely tired, but also happy to see them.
"Anderson! There you are!" He pushed an envelope towards him, and gestured for them both to have a seat. Maxwell took his seat, and Anderson followed suit.
Anderson leafed through the file, and noted that it was his next target. The man was not a vampire, and looked to be in his late thirties. His jaw line was defined with three or four good scars, and one scar ran along his right temple. His eyes were dark, as was his hair and skin, and looked like a war veteran.
Anderson nodded, having memorized his face, and his written profile. His name was Josh. Stretching, he leafed through the gory pictures that showed decapitated heads, defiled bodies, and maimed corpses. It didn't disturb him. Instead, it told him that he was probably in for a real fight. Not a fight like Alucard could give, but a fight that might keep him occupied for longer than ten minutes.
The man spoke again, clearly having known that Anderson had finished reading.
"This man has alluded our forces for nearly two years. Every time we send someone in to kill him, they never get to see life again. I heard that you are more than powerful enough to take him down, and we will reward you greatly for your services." The man was obviously meaning 'now you know what you need, get out.'
Maxwell and Anderson left silently, and when they both got into the car, Maxwell got into the passengers seat.
"You drive. I need some sleep." He slept soundly all the way back to his house. Leaving the car, Anderson started his search.
It wasn't hard to find the man, as he was rather known at the police station. He had last been spotted somewhere down near the outskirts of London. After a while, he saw the man looking out an upstairs window at him. Grinning at the prospect of a fight, he kicked in the door, and slowly came up the stairs.
"Ah, hello stranger. I see they sent another after me. It'll be a pleasure to kill, and maim you, Mr…?" Josh seemed to have no discretion about what he did.
"Father Anderson. Ah have been sent after ye, but Ah ain' ging tae be killed easy." Anderson took out a few bayonets, and took a shot in the temple. It seemed the man was more than ready for him.
"Anderson, eh? Such a plain name… Ah well. I won't be easy to kill either, priest."
As Josh lifted his hand again to fire, Anderson swung in a downward motion, severing his arm near the shoulder. He swung with his other hand and cut the man's other hand off.
Josh howled in pain, but continued to fight. He dodged Anderson's attacks for a while before grabbing his pistol again, and firing a whole round into his head.
"Why won't you die?" Screamed Josh hysterically, as he reloaded his gun, and fired it into the Vatican's Iscariot's face.
Anderson laughed mercilessly, before lunging at Josh, and loping off his head. Anderson smirked, glad that he could go home to rest, and left the body behind.
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The roof creaked with every step, and it groaned when weight was put down on the drainpipe. It almost ripped itself from the wall as a girl shimmied down it, but she was used to it. She didn't know why she didn't take the front door; her parents were on vacation, and wouldn't be back for another week.
She walked down her street with jerky movements that were common of humans, except she was anything but human. Moving down a shadow filled alley, the girl could feel the presence of two other vampires. When she was a little inside the shadows, they both jumped her, and pinned her to the wall a little further down.
"Heh… Look's like we nailed a girl this time. A pretty one at that!" They were both guys, and they looked as if they were in their mid-forties.
The girl struggled lightly, trying to let her captors have a bit of fun before she drained them. All three were vampires, and only the girl understood that. When she opened her eyes, both men were startled. But, of course, she had led them to believe that she was weak, so they continued to try and pin her to the wall enough to suck her dry.
"Girl... Tell me your name." Said one of the two, who was the shortest of them. He licked the girl's neck, and laughed to himself.
"My name is Kirsty, and you'll do well to forget it." She snarled menacingly, and almost broke the hold of them. She had been overconfident and thought that she would be able to overpower two vampires. Of course, she didn't think she was weaker than them.
The tallest laughed, and pulled Kirsty's medium light brown hair. She screamed in rage and humility, and in embarrassment. Her pale skin flushed as the short one bit the back of her neck, but not to draw blood. Kirsty could feel the presence of another person down the ally way. She couldn't tell if it was human or monster, but she knew it was a guy.
She let out another scream, and started thrashing violently as one of the men tried to put his hand down her lose black shirt, while the other was trying to put his hand down her baggy cameo jeans. She couldn't tell which was which, and she didn't care. She just wanted them to stop.
As the man got closer, she could tell he was holding a gun, and a butterfly knife. His face was defined with his jaw, which had scars all along it, and along his right temple was a rather large one. She was relieved it was a human, and struggled with her captives until the man was on top of them.
He shot the tallest one in the head, and then the heart, and with his other hand, he plunged the knife into the shorter one's back. They both fell, dead. Kirsty fell onto her butt, and was about to get up when the man shoved his gun into her face.
"Not so fast girl. You're one of them. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you too?" He grinned wildly, a grin that looked to belong to a deranged mental institute escapee.
"I…You-! Please don't?" She couldn't think of anything else, her mind had gone blank, and it didn't help that his gun was in her face.
The man laughed, "Relax. I won't kill you yet, but on my terms," He offered a hand to her, which she took. He pulled her violently to her feet, and shot her in the stomach, "But I sure as hell won't make you suffer first! By the way, my name's Josh. So nice to finally meet you Kirsty."
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The sun was rising just as he arrived at his house. Sighing and flopping onto his bed, he fell into a light, dreamless sleep. When he awoke, it was just an hour before dusk, and his cell was ringing.
Answering, Maxwell sounded exasperated, frustrated and upset.
"Anderson! Did you take out your target?"
"Aye, ah took him oot. Ah made sure of it."
"Well, last night we got reports of a man that fits his description perfectly, dragging around a wounded girl. Her name was reported as Kirsty."
"Aboot whit time?"
"Two hours before dawn. Anderson, when did you kill that man?"
"Two hours afore dawn? Ah killed him only an hour after we left. Tha' would have bin aboot four hours afore dawn. Somethin' ain righ'."