Hellsing: Inversion
By Twin Enigma
Blanket Disclaimer: I do not own copyrights to Hellsing, though I support it's creator by purchasing the manga and anime. This is not written for profit and is solely intended for fun and the purpose of getting those plotbunnies out of my skull. The plot is mine, any original characters are mine, but in the end I'm just playing in this delightfully FUBAR universe.
Order 1: Welcome to the Suck
Twenty-four hours ago, the call came in from the London Police Authority to send D-11 into action. The local police of a small town were overwhelmed, their situation desperate. All communication with the officers they'd previously sent to investigate had been swiftly and violently terminated before any real data could be obtained and then London had lost communication with the remaining police. D-11 did not like going into a situation blindly, but there was no choice: it was imperative that they discover exactly what was going on before making the decision to send in any more firepower. Their orders were to determine the number of assailants and the state of the hostages, if there were any.
Two full units were sent in.
Twenty minutes later, frantic calls started coming in from both units, reporting that they were under heavy attack and demanding backup. The audio was filled with screaming, gunfire, swearing and a low noise that could only be described as ghoulish moaning. It was immediately clear to those back at headquarters what the situation was and they followed established procedure, immediately contacting the Hellsing Organization.
Fifteen minutes after primary notification, Hellsing Organization was airborne and en route. Their ground troops were on orders to establish a perimeter and prevent any non-human beings from spreading contamination further. An incident of this size had not occurred since Cheddar, well before the Millennium War, and typically vampire threats were identified far before they became a problem anywhere near this large. This deeply concerned and angered Hellsing's current director, so much so that he decided to personally oversee this operation and send in his top hunter.
"Sir, ten minutes to primary LZ!" the co-pilot shouted over the din of the rotors. "Teams 1 and 2 have already landed! Primary LZ is secure and mobile command is online!"
Director Hellsing gave the man a single nod of acknowledgement and adjusted his glasses. The operation was proceeding smoothly so far. Now, where was his servant? He spoke into his headset: "Have you arrived yet, Nosferatu?"
"My Master is so impatient," the vampire replied teasingly. "It has been so long since I've had a challenge and I want to relish it."
"Nosferatu, you try my patience," Director Hellsing ground out. "Have you arrived yet?"
The vampire chuckled, obviously amused. "I'm nearing the last reported position of the second D-11 unit. I do hope this one puts up more of a fight than the last trash vampire I faced."
"You have your orders," the director said, "Report directly to me when all nonhuman targets are eliminated."
"Understood, Master," the vampire purred.
Director Hellsing grimaced as he tore off the headset and clenched his hands into fists, seething with anger. He had practically felt the vampire leering at him through the earpiece. This sort of insolence from her could not and would not be tolerated. When this operation was over, he would see to it that she received a little time to reflect on her behaviour – preferably in the dungeons, chained to the wall where he'd found her. The thought cooled his rage somewhat and, smirking, the young director turned his attention back the mission at hand.
A young D-11 officer crashed through the underbrush, scrambling forward in an all-out mad rush of adrenaline. His entire unit was dead and his rifle – well, he'd lost that when he fell a few yards back and hadn't had the time to grab it before those undead monsters started to catch up. All he had left were his sidearm and one, maybe two clips of ammo. Not that it mattered much: bullets didn't seem to stop the cannibalistic zombies. Right now, running was all that stood between him and a horrible death.
There – a church! Frantically, he picked up the pace and hoped to god that the building had good, solid doors. A distant part of his mind fluttered around in circles, going over every horror movie he'd seen as a teenager, and he dimly wondered if any of the stuff in them had a grain of truth. He thought these were strange thoughts to be thinking when running for his life, but it did take his mind off the stitch in his side from running so hard and the awful groaning of the undead chasing him.
Suddenly, something yanked the ground out from under him and he pitched forward with a startled cry. "Where do you think you're going, bobby?" asked a mocking female voice somewhere behind his head. An icy feminine hand clamped down on his right arm, painfully twisting it behind his back, while a second hand firmly grabbed him by the hair and he was dragged cruelly to his feet.
His captor was a woman, pale and ghostly, her lank black hair hanging in wild tangles. But what his eyes were fixed on was her predatory smile and the wickedly pointed fangs that it revealed. Her breath reeked of rotting flesh and blood and he knew exactly what she was: a monster.
"Aren't you a looker, little bobby? Not like those other nasty old men," she said, her hooded yellow eyes practically undressing him.
He was instantly repulsed and tried to shove her away with his left hand, but her grip was solid and unyielding.
"You've certainly got spunk! It's always more exciting when they struggle," she purred, pressing her cold body against his. Her sickening grin grew wider still as she ran her tongue along the side of his face. "And you're so pretty..."
The officer shuddered in horror at the monster's touch and dropped his free hand to his side, groping for his pistol. His fingers met with empty air.
"Surprised, pet?" she jeered, flashing her sharp teeth again. "I couldn't have you shooting up my nice new dress. Bloodstains are so difficult to get out."
He knew it now: he was going to die here, food for some crazed monster bitch in a tacky dress. Maybe, if he was lucky, those zombies would eat them both before she could kill him.
"What to do? What to do?" the monster giggled insanely and feigned an expression of deep thought. "I could turn you and keep you with me always, but there are hardly any virgins your age. Still, I suppose you'd make a useful ghoul."
As she spoke, her vice-like hand slowly pushed his head to the side, until his neck was bare to her. He winced as something sharp bit into the skin just under his collar and, for the briefest moment, he thought the monster had bit him. But she was still talking to herself, debating whether or not she'd prefer him 'turned' or as a 'still-serviceable ghoul,' and a quick glance confirmed that her teeth were nowhere near his neck.
Realization dawned on him and he instantly knew what was digging into his collarbone. It was something he'd had all his life: a small silver crucifix. The sharp points had a habit of accidentally jabbing him at odd times, but he cherished it all the same. It was the only thing of his mother's he had to remember her by and, right now, he could swear she must have been looking out for him from heaven. She'd left him a weapon of sorts, one with near dagger-like points.
"Well, I suppose there will always be other fish in the sea," the monster concluded. "A snack it is."
Her jaw began to open inhumanly wide and he didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, he tore the crucifix from his neck and stabbed it into the monster's eye. She howled in pain, the wound hissing and spewing forth smoke as though it burned, and instantly released him to claw desperately at the little silver weapon.
The officer stumbled, scooped up his sidearm, and quickly hauled himself forward, scrambling back to his feet. All he could think of was running, staying alive... surviving.
"BASTARD!" the monster screeched, practically materializing in front of him before he'd even gotten more than a yard away. She grabbed him by his neck with one hand and hauled him into the air as blood poured down her face in rivers from the wound he'd inflicted with the crucifix. "You ruined my eye!"
He struggled, not willing to give up yet, and raised his gun. If he was lucky, maybe he could get her to drop him. "B-bitch!"
A loud, booming retort from a gun cut through the night and the monster's arm practically exploded at the elbow. But, to the shock and horror of the young man, he didn't fall to the ground as he expected to. Instead, the monster's arm hung suspended in the air as her elbow reformed, soon once again whole. She growled, her head snapping in the direction of the shot, and he could not help but try to look at this newcomer.
It was a woman, tall and dusky-skinned, her pale hair seemingly swirling around her like mist, stirred by an eerily absent breeze. "You trash have no manners," the newcomer stated. "Playing with your food and not even bothering to clean up after yourself? How disgusting!"
"You!" the monster snarled, her yellow eyes narrowing in anger. She yanked her captive prey to her chest and spun him so his he could see the approaching newcomer. "I was expecting you, Hellsing bitch. I've been waiting to pay you and your accursed master back for what you did to my clan."
"I found your little ghoul army to be in poor taste," the pale-haired woman replied, raising her gun. "So many other punks have tried that trick in the past and all of them were banished to hell."
The monster growled, tightening her grip on her captive, and then spoke into his ear with a sickening smile. "Do you think she'll save you, bobby? Think again, pet! She's nothing more than a tethered attack dog for the crown, a monster that hunts her own kind!"
The newcomer remained still with her gun raised, and did not bother to defend herself.
"The truth is that she would kill you to get to me, pet," she purred, glaring spitefully at the pale-haired woman. "She's just thinking about how she's going to go about it. See, she knows she can't kill me without going through you, bobby, and she doesn't care."
He looked directly into the newcomer's face, unwilling to believe his captor's words, and was surprised to see her smiling, as though she had just heard something unbelievably amusing.
"Police boy, are you a virgin?" she asked then. "Answer me."
The tone she used boded no argument and, while the question seemed absolutely absurd, he found he was already answering her: "Yes."
His captor, meanwhile, laughed, "You can't be seriously thinking of turning him? You, a collared hound? Can you even feed without your master's consent? Or does your master feed you from his bed like his namesake–"
Her words were cut off by the boom of the newcomer's gun and the next thing that the young man was aware of was falling to the ground in pain. It felt as though a hole had been blasted through his chest and it hurt to breathe. He opened his eyes just in time to see the pale-haired woman leap over him and drag the wounded monster to her knees.
"Filth like you will not speak of my Count in such a manner," she said coldly and plunged her hand through the chest of the yellow-eyed monster. "And you should not have insulted my master."
The monster woman gave a final bloody shriek and crumbled into dust, freeing the small crucifix and sending it tumbling to the ground.
He smiled then: at least he could get that back, even if he was going to bleed to death.
"Police boy, you don't have much time," the pale-haired woman said matter-of-factly as she looked down at him. Her eyes were red, he noted absently, and then she spoke again. "It's your choice. Do you want to live?"
He couldn't speak; his mouth was full of blood and he was drowning slowly. Yet, somehow he forced himself to nod and smile weakly.
The woman closed her red eyes for a moment and gave a soft chuckle. "So this is what it felt like... I think I understand now, my dear Count," she said, raising her head to regard the moon. She knelt then, gently raising him to her breast, and softly sank her teeth into his neck.
He let himself drain away in her embrace, slipping into the cold darkness of eternity with a smile.
Director Hellsing waited impatiently at the mobile command post situated on the road leading into town. The Nosferatu had not yet returned, nor had she communicated anything to him through the radio, and she hadn't even attempted to use telepathy. Not that he wanted her to, mind you, but he wanted to know where his monster was. She was taking far too long for his liking. Still, she had never failed in a mission yet and he doubted her ego would allow her to start now.
Finally, the familiar figure of his servant appeared out of the fog and, immediately, the soldiers began mobilizing for clean up operations. The Nosferatu paid the soldiers little mind as they moved out and made her way towards the director as ordered. She had a strange, satisfied smirk on her face as she approached him, an expression that said she'd had at least a little amusement on this mission. He noted she was carrying a bundled up D-11 survivor in her arms; said survivor seemed disoriented and was probably in some form of shock.
"Well done," Director Hellsing said, smiling. "How did it go?"
Her smile widened. "The vampire is dead. There were no survivors."
The director was momentarily thrown off kilter. "What? Then who's he? Isn't he a survivor?"
"No," she grinned, flashing her fangs at her master. "Actually, he's dead."
The 'survivor' managed a weak "I'm sorry," quite pointedly revealing a set of new fangs and the red eyes that marked this particular midian bloodline.
Director Hellsing stiffened, immediately caught somewhere between absolute fury towards his insubordinate servant and complete mortification. This would be an embarrassment for the Hellsing Organization, one they did not need. "WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA, YOU BLOODY FOOL!"
"It couldn't be helped," the vampire replied, coolly.
"I'm sorry! I really am!" added the newly-turned fledgling. He, at least, seemed genuinely contrite.
Director Hellsing growled, spun on his heel, and marched towards his waiting helicopter before he wasted any precious silver bullets on that infuriating Nosferatu. "We're leaving. General Valentin, you have command. Sir Integra and her charge will be returning with you."
"Yes, sir," the grizzled officer replied. He glanced back at the two vampires and slowly shook his head. The wily Draculina was testing her master's limits and patience again. This was getting ridiculous... Someone's head was going to roll when they returned to Headquarters, that was certain, and he bet that head would belong to Nosferatu Integra. The question was who would decapitate the vampire first: Sir Hellsing or the family retainer?
"This was a perfect night," the fair-haired vampire said to herself. Her eyes followed the path of her master as his helicopter rose into the air and took off. "Don't you think?"
The former D-11 officer stared at her in a mix of confusion and bewilderment. This had been far from what he'd call a perfect night.
"Welcome to the suck," she chuckled.
Her fledgling didn't find it that funny.
AN: Blame my newest muses, Chibi Integra-sama and Chibi Alucard, for this one. This is set after the current canon manga (9.2) and is a twist on the character role inversion plot. I won't tip the fledgling's name for a while, but I've already hinted to the latest Sir Hellsing's first name. As for Nosferatu Integra, I'll go into why she behaves like she does later on. Well... Okay, I'll say this now: she's been through a lot of hell and it's made her a bit bitter. Anyway, reviews are good and will be responded to with enthusiasm as finals threaten to drive me insane.