Matt sighed and hit 'send', waiting for message to leave the out box before standing and flopping onto the nearby bed. It had been exactly one week since the night his life had abruptly changed, and he was no closer to answering any of the questions his mind had come up with. All he'd gotten right was how typing that e-mail would make him feel, incredibly depressed.

The 19-year old Matthew Jemeth used to have hazel eyes. Recent events, however, meant they were now red. He had dark-brown hair, and was somewhat muscular after working out for most of that year. For the moment, at least, he wore glasses. 'Never can know just what's going to change about me,' he thought. As he lay on his bed, he wore a pair of blue jeans and a red t-shirt. On a chair by the door hung a jacket with a denim vest and fabric sleeves, recently modified with a pair of shields; one on its left breast and one high on its left sleeve. They were each the coat of arms of the Hellsing organization, the group he was essentially forced to join after being turned into a vampire.

His room wasn't highly decorated. A dresser for clothes, a desk on which his computer sat, along with a couple chairs, a table, and his bed. The walls were stone, much like the rest of his new 'home'.

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, trying once again to answer just one of the questions running through his mind. He didn't get far before a knock at the door interrupted his thinking. A good thing too; trying to answer his questions simply made him feel worse. He looked to the door then made sure his eyes were dry. "Come in."

The door slowly opened, and a person entered: the pretty young woman with the red eyes. He finally got a good look at her… At least when he could remember clearly. She was young, probably the same age as he. She had reddish-blond hair, lightly tanned white skin, and wore a blue police style uniform… well, almost. The miniskirt didn't really help with the police image. As with his jacket, the uniform bore the coat of arms of the Hellsing organization at its left breast pocket and left sleeve. Along with that, she wore black, thigh high boots and white gloves. She had a kind face; the sort of face you want to trust. Certainly not like the classic sinister vampire image he'd known in the past. Unfortunately, he didn't know her name yet. "Hello, Matthew." She had a British accent, an accent Matthew had found pleasant in years past. She was also the first one to intrude on him in the past week, so Matt figured something was up.

Matt sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Hi. What's going on?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. It's just that you haven't been out of your room all week except for once, talking to Integra about your computer."

He raised an eyebrow at her. Matthew had just spoken with the group's leader; a woman named Integra Wingates Hellsing. Sir Integra, she'd been knighted by the Queen, had been the one to give Matthew permission to send e-mail. "You knew?" His tone was not angry or accusing, just curious.

She nodded. "I figured you had had enough time to sit and think. Do you want to talk about what has happened? It might help."

Matt slumped a bit, thinking. "Actually, I haven't even begun to figure it all out, but talking might help." He straightened up and gestured to a chair in his spartan room. "Please, sit." She sat, getting comfortable. His first question was an easy one, and came to him quickly. "You know, I never did ask you. What's your name?"

She settled into her chair and looked at him. "Seras. Seras Victoria."

"Seras," he repeated, letting the name roll through his head. "Nice name." She smiled, and he continued on. "How long have you been… You know…"

"A vampire?" At his nod, she said, "a few months now."

"How'd it happen to you?" If he could figure out how she dealt with the change, maybe he could find a way to deal as well.

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She sighed, her eyes slipping back into memory. "My squad was sent in to deal with a disturbance, but no one happened to tell us the man we were looking for was a vampire. My squad was killed, and I found myself a hostage of the vampire. For the vampire to be killed, I had to be fatally shot. From there, what happened to you happened to me."

"Have you come to grips with it? The change?"

"Mostly, yes. Took a little while, but my master helped some."

Matt tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "Your master?"

She flinched, as if caught doing something wrong. "Sorry. I mean Alucard. He's my, now, former master."

Matt's head stayed where it was. "Master?"

The continued expression drew a chuckle out of Seras. "It's a little complicated. I'll tell you later."

Matthew righted his head and lowered the eyebrow. "Ok, that works."

"I have a question for you, if you don't mind." Matthew gestured for her to continue. "Well, two. First the easy one: have they fixed the bed to your liking?"

When he'd arrived, the bed had been more like a coffin, with a lid held above the bed by four columns which would lower onto the bed when a button was hit, more in keeping to standard vampires. He'd not liked that one bit, and had actually gone as far as to disable its lowering mechanism. On the way back from talking with Integra, a man named Walter asked him if he was settling in. When he'd mentioned the bed, he said they would fix it. Later, a team came in to replace the bed with a more conventional one. "Yeah, they did. It helped a lot."

"Good. Now the more difficult one. Did you drink the medical blood I had sent here?"

Matthew looked down slightly. "No, I didn't. It didn't feel right to drink it."

Seras nodded. "I understand. I felt the same way. I had to watch Alucard drink someone's blood before instinct overrode that feeling. Take my advice: drink it. If you go much longer you'll be helpless if you're attacked. And trust me, you will be."

Giving a slight sigh, Matt said ruefully, "Well that sounds pleasant."

"Hmm…" Matt looked at Seras, who seemed to be considering something. "Have you ever shot a gun?"

Matt nodded. "I used to shoot semi-regularly, but I'm a little out of practice. It's been a couple years since I had the chance. Why do you ask?"

Seras smiled. "Well, I've been told to ensure you're ready to fight. But at the same time, I think I know something that might cheer you up a bit."

She led him into the dark stone hallway. Matt tried to figure out which way they were going, but his sense of direction had been messed up ever since they'd gotten there. He'd always had a good sense of direction, almost to the point of calling it a sixth sense. But he needed to have experience with an area, or at least be able to double check himself a couple of times off of the sun, to know exactly what direction he was facing. 'Probably not gonna get that particular marker again…'

Before he could get too far with his thinking a familiar, though muted, sound thumped into his ears. He looked up, Seras turning around to look at him. "Something?"

The corner of his mouth flicked up ever so slightly. "I should've realized what you had in mind. You've got a shooting range here."

Seras nodded, giving him a warm smile. She knew that the idea of shooting had, at least momentarily, chased away his depression. "Shall we?" She gestured to a nearby metal door. Matthew nodded, nearly running to open it.

Matt's eyes scanned over the room as they entered. A line of shooting stations were along the right side of the room, opening to the large shooting gallery with many targets, or mountings for them. They were all human silhouettes, with the largest target points coming from head or chest shots. Along the other side were lockers, racks of ear muffs / plugs and goggles, along with access to an armory to check out weapons for practice.

He grabbed a pair of ear muffs, figuring his glasses would be plenty of protection for his eyes. He also looked into the armory at what was available. He spotted a Walther P99, a 9-millimeter semi-auto. 'Good warm-up', he thought. He knew a wide variety of calibers, from a Ruger 22 to the new Smith & Wesson 500, a 50-caliber revolver. The armory officer walked up and spoke with Matthew, a few moments later bringing the Walther and a few magazines of ammo. Matt set himself up at a lane, checking the distance to the target: fifty meters. 'About fifty yards,' he thought. 'Eh, I'm out of practice. I'll probably hit the paper, and might get towards the center.'

He loaded a magazine and raised the pistol, deftly looking out of the corner of his eye to ensure he wasn't the only one shooting. His father's instructions running through his mind, he carefully aimed at the target's center and squeezed the trigger. The pistol fired.

Something felt decidedly wrong. He gently set the pistol down on the table. His confusion must have showed, as Seras walked over moments later.

The soldier in the lane next to him paused shooting, looked at Matt's target, then looked over at Matt. "Nice shot, lad. Right through the heart. Wanna aim for that or the head."

Matt looked up, seeing a small hole piercing the target through the ten point marker in its chest. "Wow…"

Seras looked at the target, then at Matt. "Something wrong?"

He looked at her. "Two things, actually. First, that's better accuracy than I've had… ever. Second, that gun felt too… weak. Felt more like a 22." He furrowed his eyebrows a moment, then let one raise up. "Perk of being a vampire?" At her nod, he looked down at the Walther. "Well, damn. I liked the recoil of 9 mil."

"Care to try something bigger?"

Matthew looked at her again, curious. She smiled, but said nothing. She walked back to the armory as Matt watched, then returned with a huge rifle, a large caliber single-shot rifle Matt would usually see as the local shooting range's machine gun shoot day. He was too stunned to grab it. And too stunned to notice she carried it in front of her with only one hand. "That one?" She nodded and he walked over to it, lightly chuckling. "What is it?"

"A 50 caliber sniper rifle."

Once again, one eyebrow started for the ceiling. "Umm… Sure. I tend to doubt it'll tear my arm off…" He reached out with both hands and took it from her… And was again surprised at how light it felt. After a pause, he said, "Cool. Freaky, but cool."

Seras started to chuckle. "Not quite the reaction I had to it, I must say. I doubted I could even lift the thing."

"Well, let's give it a try, shall we? Hand me a cartridge."

She brought her other hand around, a single 50-caliber round clutched in her fingers.

Matt had to chuckle at that. "You think of everything, don't you?" He set the cartridge down on the table and flipped down the rifle's bipod. "You ever shot this?"

"Yes, I did. Though I'll admit it was under much different circumstances."

"Well," he replied, "when in Rome…" He opened the rifle's bolt, slid in the round, and locked it in. Suddenly, Matthew noticed he was drawing a bit of a crowd; the other soldiers of Hellsing wanting to see how the new guy handled a rifle almost as long as he was tall. "Y'all might want to step back. I don't know how much this is gonna kick." Heeding his warning, the perimeter around him increased a bit. He brought the rifle tight into his shoulder, taking aim at the target's forehead. He squeezed the trigger. The rifle gave its loud report and a huge hole appeared in the target's forehead, obliterating the 10 point marker. Matthew set the rifle down and stood, rubbing his shoulder. "Ow."

Seras approached, looking concerned. "Are you all right?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah. Good pain. It's supposed to hurt. But I think I've had enough for one day." He hefted the rifle and started to walk towards the armory access.

"I'll get it. You head back to your room and I'll meet you there, ok?"

He looked back at her. "Umm… Ok." He slid open the bolt of the rifle, and the brass cartridge leapt out as it was extracted from the rifle. He caught the brass and set down the rifle. "I'm keeping this. See you in a bit."

He carefully made the journey back to his room. Somehow his sense of direction had caught on, if only on a limited basis. His shoulder had healed by the time he pushed the door closed, set the brass on the nearby dresser, and flopped back onto his bed. Seemed like a good place to wait. Before too long there was a knock at the door. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side. "Come in." Seras entered, as he'd expected. "Ah, hey Seras. Come on in. Sit down."

She entered, looking as if trying to judge his mood as she sat. "You seem happier. I'd thought shooting the pistol had only made things worse; reminding you that you've changed."

Matt nodded. "Yeah, it did. Shooting the rifle helped, though. Something that big should hurt to shoot, at least until I've finally adjusted to what's happened." He paused for a moment. "Though it does make me miss my dad. And everyone else back in the states."

Seras pulled back a bit. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you feel worse. You're going through a hard enough time as it is."

Matt looked directly into her eyes. "Seras, you're being more of a help than you know." He paused, then smiled. "You're not making me feel worse. Nostalgic, yes, but I've been doing that for the good year I've been away from home. It's just a bit more acute now that I don't think I'll ever see them again. But let's jump to a different topic. You still owe me an explanation of the whole 'master' thing."

Seras blushed slightly. "Well… all right. I'm still learning it myself, so I don't know how difficult it will be to explain. When a person is turned… is made into a vampire, the vampire that turned them becomes their master, and the new vampire is their fledgling."

Matthew nodded to show he was keeping up. "Ah." Then, his eyes widened. "Oooh…"

"Hold on. Let me finish. When the new vampire either drinks their master's blood or takes a fledgling of their own they are no longer a fledgling. Hey, that was easier than I thought it would be."

"So that means you're my master." Matt's eyebrows furrowed. He didn't really like the idea, but if he had to call her that then he would.

However, she held up a hand. "Please don't call me 'Master'. You know my name. Seras Victoria. Call me that."

"All right. Seras it is, then." He tried to think of what to ask her about, when an alarm klaxon interrupted his train of thought. "What's that?"

Before Seras could speak, an announcement sounded from a hidden speaker in the ceiling. "We are at code 2. Code 1 in fifteen minutes."

Seras stood. At Matthew's look of questioning, she spoke, "We've got a mission. We leave in fifteen minutes. I need to grab my things. I would suggest you drink the blood then meet me at the assembly area."

Matthew also stood and nodded. "I'll find a way. I'll be there." Seras, suddenly a lot more professional, nodded and left. Matthew turned to the bucket of ice holding a bag of medical blood. He didn't have time to think, time to tell himself why he must and why he was no less human for drinking it. He grabbed the bag and bit off the end of the drain tube, then started drinking it like a pouch drink. After a few gulps, he started feeling a strange… thirst… He stopped drinking, analyzed the feeling, and promptly slapped himself. "I may have to drink it, but I'm damn well not going to like it." Thoughtlessly, he finished the bag. Physically, he felt better than he had in the past few days. Mentally, he wasn't sure. He went to the nearby sink, drank some water to clean his mouth, grabbed his jacket, and ran out the door.

Five minutes later, Matthew waited at the edge of the growing group for Seras's arrival. Master by name or not, she still knew more about what was going on. He was going to stick with her as long as he could. While Matthew was staring at nothing, someone walked up. He was an older man, with a bald head and a gray mustache. What appeared to be a scar ran from the corner of his left eye down along the front of his left cheek. He carried himself like a leader, tall and strong. "You must be the new vampire," he stated.

Matt was snapped out of his blank stare. He stiffened into an attention stature. "Yes, sir. I am."

"This will be your first mission, correct?" Matt answered affirmatively. When the man continued speaking, his voice seemed to loose a bit of its edge. Not much, but enough for Matthew to know he wasn't being dressed down. "I understand you're new to this organization, and that you may be uncomfortable with that you'll be told to do. You will still be required to do your job and eliminate the enemy."

"I understand, sir. I'll try to not let you down." The man seemed to size Matthew up for a moment, then turned and attended to other people. Matthew relaxed with a sigh. 'What the hell have I gotten myself into…' he thought.

"You alright?"

Matt turned to the voice. It was Seras, and she was carrying the largest rifle Matthew had ever seen. "Umm, yeah," he replied. Just got a bit of a 'pep talk' from one of the commanders around here." He pointed to the man inspecting a line of soldiers.

"Ah, that's Fargason. He gave me the same treatment when I first joined. He's a good man."

Matt nodded slightly. "Seems to be. Still, I'll take your word for it. Now, what in the hell is that thing?" He pointed to the rifle.

Seras smiled. "My rifle. A Harkonnen 30 millimeter cannon firing depleted uranium or incendiary explosive shells. Walter gave it to me."

"Walter? Yeah, I think I know him. He's the guy who spoke to me after leaving Sir Integra's office. I'll probably get to know him better later. Let's get this over with." The two vampires joined the crowd entering the vehicles heading into the field. "What about Alucard? Is he going to join us?"

"Maybe. Hard to know when he'll show up. Though if he does, he wouldn't go in any vehicle. He's got his own ways of getting around."

"Ok…" Matt shrugged and settled into one of the seats.