…Chapter Three – Season of Flying Hornets…
The moon was only a sliver behind intermittent clouds. Water from an earlier shower ran through drainpipes and the occasional drip echoed, catching the silence that existed in the deserted industrial alleys. An embodiment of the shadow surrounding him, Alucard gazed up at the moon, and then at the factory in front of him.
"Shall we go in?" Special Officer Seras Victoria asked him.
"The hunt is here, Police Girl. Feel it! Breathe it! Become it!" his fangs shone brightly in the moonlight.
Entering the old cotton factory both vampires were confronted by a veritable sea of ghouls. Clambering over the rusting and disintegrating machinery they tried to advance in their slow, shambling and thick way. Mouths open they emitted a terrible moaning sound that stuck in the mind long after the source had been disposed of. Ghoul arms reached in desperation for the vampires. Seras gasped and tried to back up. There were so many of them! What sort of FREAK could do this? Not only to create so many from the unsuspecting people of London, but to then control them. Surely this would have required considerable skill, one which Seras was not looking forward to meeting.
Alucard brought from his coat his Jackal and directed it at the approaching ghouls, arm straight, eye just visible over the top.
"Playthings!" he grinned, "Shall we remove them from the board and find the real fight?" Not waiting for Seras to reply he fired a shot, killing the first ghoul and the seven standing behind it. Their bodies became grave dust and spread over the concrete floor. It wasn't visible for long however as the other ghouls crowded in, heads filled with one thought and hands eager to grab it. Seras crouched and loaded her Halconnen Cannon as her master let off another shot. Seras' subsequent shot managed to blow holes in several ghouls before exploding to destroy a considerable number on the left flank. The shot after that disintegrated a similarly large number on the right flank. Alucard concentrated on the central advances. It was painfully obvious however that the undead tide was stumbling inexorably closer.
"Er, Master?" Seras called out. Alucard didn't seem to hear her, or at least paid her no attention.
"Master! They're getting closer!"
The next instant he was gone. Seras whirled around, panicked by his sudden disappearance. Searching the factory desperately she spotted thirteen large, jet black bats circling around the railing of the observation deck opposite. Coming together they merged to re-form her master. Crouching on the railing like a malevolent gargoyle the vampire bared his fangs in a mockery of a smile.
"Close the door behind you, Police Girl. Don't you know it's rude to leave it open? We are guests here after all."
He laughed, low and long. Blinking, Seras obliged, dragging the heavy industrial door behind her and bolting it firmly. Turning back she felt the clammy, clumsy fingers of the ghoul mass on her as they reached to tear her to pieces. In her mind flashed what had happened last time ghouls had touched her, the mass of turned Hellsing soldiers clutching at her clothes. How they had almost swamped her. And the madness. The vampire bloodlust that had awoken deep inside her and consumed her with a hot fire. The lust for blood, destruction and power over the night.
"No," she whispered to herself, she didn't want to lose control again! That was not her, "Master!" she screamed.
"Now that our little rat problem is contained," he commented to himself.
"Master! Help me!" The girl slammed an elbow into one of the ghouls as it latched onto her.
"Turn yourself into a bat. Fly their grasp," Alucard called down to her.
"But, Master! I don't know how!"
"Think of a bat," Alucard's voice was calm, "Picture it, sense it, feel it. Hold the sensation of the vampire bat in your mind. Then let yourself become it."
Seras screamed and let terror take her mind, "Master!"
Alucard regarded her from his perch high above the commotion. Then he whistled. It was only just audible and dipped in and out of hearing range. Seras felt it enter her bones; encompassing them until it was so ingrained she couldn't tell it apart from herself. Slowly her form seemed to melt around her, grow more liquefied, less distinct. Her whole body started to merge, like gas particles shifting alongside each other when the gas is compressed. The whistle changed to a series of short, sharp bursts that echoed off the walls and machinery of the factory. To Seras they seemed to echo off the spaces inside of her until it had filled all of them. Changing subtly it seemed to be inviting the vampire to hunt, the echoes now sounding like a deep laugh. Typical, she thought to herself, this is Alucard we are dealing with after all.
In response to the whistles the female vampire's body began to change, shrinking under the grasp of the ghouls it melted so that it looked as if it were a dark wisp. Gathering into itself the wisp formed itself into a small black bat. The only difference between it and a natural vampire bat was this one had just perceivably longer fangs. Echo-locating erratically it flew clumsily out of the ghouls, only just evading their clutching fingers. Desperately trying to gain height and escape falling to the enemy below it blundered into various pieces of machinery, almost knocking itself unconscious several times. Alucard watched it with amusement and changed his whistle so he attracted it to him. Bumbling, it finally managed to reach him with one last effort and tumbled into his outstretched hands. Grinning down at it, he asked in a mocking tone, "Since I helped you change into a bat, how about you change back by yourself, Police Girl?"
The bat squeaked in obvious, rapid alarm. Laughing the vampire launched the bat into the air over the platform.
"Just remember your human self, Police Girl. The same as with turning into the bat, remember the feeling of your human form and let yourself slide into it."
The bat flittered about wildly for a couple of seconds before it turned, flipped and changed back into its human form as a very disgruntled Seras.
"Very well done," the amusement was more than evident in Alucard's deep voice, "Next time perhaps a little bigger? You need to learn how to control the change and the result."
"It would be nice if you tried something new next time when we were not on a battleground!" Seras was rather annoyed about the whole incident; she had not wanted to lose control!
"But it worked so well, Police Girl."
"I don't think so!" Seras was too worked up to remember she was supposed to be polite to her master, and not experienced enough to realise irate did not work with Alucard's smoothness.
"But you made a positively adorable little bat" he grinned widely.
Seras glared at him and humphed, if was all she had left.
"I have an idea for getting rid of this primeval sludge. Care to join me, Police Girl?"
Seras sighed, and rose to her feet. She supposed this kind of thing came with working with vampires.
"You'll need to be fast," Alucard's mind was on the ghoul army below now, "Give me two shells," Seras obliged, "I want you to shoot three shells in quick succession," Ghouls started to climb the wall and reach for the observation deck, "Two to the far corners and one to the centre," Seras nodded, "Do it fast."
Seras grabbed the shells and gave them to the lanky vampire. Grabbing her Halconnen Cannon and ammunition, she had been able to transport it with her because it was in direct contact with her skin; she took up her fighting position.
"Ready, Master," Alucard gave no reply, "In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation. Amen" she whispered under her breath.
"Fire!" Alucard ordered. Bringing his arms back he threw one capsule to each of the closest corners of the factory floor. Behind him Seras fired one to the left far corner, reloaded, fired another to the right far corner, reloaded, fired one into the centre. As her third shell found its target, Alucard's two shells detonated and the ghouls in the near corner regions exploded. Those that were left were thrown into the centre where they crushed their fellow undead. Three seconds after Seras's shells detonated in quick succession, removing all but a handful of those ghouls left. Alucard picked those off with his Jackal. The factory floor was now knee deep in grave dust.
---
Crouched behind a partially shattered manufacturing machine a group of thirteen ghouls watched as the final blasts detonated, several getting sprayed with grave dust. In deathly silence they waited, counting the seconds as Alucard gradually picked off the ghouls outside. The sound of the Jackal stopped. Breathlessly they waited.
"Let's see if we can find the filth that created this, shall we, Police Girl?" the vampire's voice sounded far away.
"Yes, Master," a female voice replied and the sound of boots could be heard going into the other half of the factory.
Above their heads broken windows leered down at them with shattered teeth and the moon made a sickly attempt at lighting them. One by one they stood and started to leave. Soon there were only two left. One started to leave, and tripped over, his body starting to disintegrate. The other stepped on him without a flicker of emotion, crushing the ghoul's hand. A strangled moan escaped the fallen ghoul's rotting mouth. The other one did not seem to care and carried on. Behind him the ghoul laboriously got to his feet and stumbled out of the factory, darkness soon swallowing him.
---
Integra lit a cigar and took a long puff. She was framed against the windows which were still darkened by the night. The moon had ceased to be visible and hid behind a thick bank of clouds. The flame from the match had lit the scene for an instant, but Integra quickly snuffed it. The smoke from her cigar added another layer to the darkness, making it thicker.
"There were no FREAKs," it was a calm statement, she already knew the answer.
"Humans must repeat everything, they have yet to learn it makes no difference," another statement, this voice deeper. Its speaker also concealed by darkness. Integra ignored him.
"There must be FREAKs, or a vampire, if there are ghouls."
"Logic. Another thing humans have yet to learn is no help. And is not always right."
"What do you suggest then, Oh Mighty Genius of the Night?" Integra's tone was waspish.
"Politeness would be a good start, after all that does get you somewhere."
Integra spun around, glaring at the darkness.
"That's rich coming from one such as you."
"One such as me? I am a vampire, when I am not polite?"
"You are provocative!"
The darkness smirked, "I am definitely that. But provocative is not the same as polite, is it?"
"It is as bad!"
"I never said I was decent, just polite. The two need not always go hand in hand."
"As you prove effortlessly every day!"
"Night, my master. Vampires only come out at night, remember? If you learnt only one lesson from your father, it should have been that."
"The most important lesson I learnt from Father is how to kill vampires!"
Alucard's voice was soft now, "But not FREAKs."
Integra had also calmed down, "It seems there is no guide on how to deal with them."
"This attack was definitely organised by FREAKs, it did not have the calibre of a true vampire. It also has to have been more than one, judging on the number of ghouls."
"So where would they be?" the question was contemplative.
"FREAKs are too human for me. You humans baffle me with your logic and repetition," the sardonic smile reappeared but Integra had turned to face the window again.
"Yet they aren't human either. Too much like to vampires to be human, too much like humans to be vampires. Neither one or the other."
"In-between beings. How I hate that sort, always causing annoyances."
"Remind me to tell you never to have children."
"These are not children we are playing with. They combine vampire powers with human desires and rationale. They care nothing for beauty, only destruction."
"Combined with the natural vampire arrogance and we have a very deadly combination."
"They have arrogance and nothing else. We have pride."
"And the difference, in the end?"
"Is considerable."
Integra just shrugged, deep in thought.
"Perhaps ask the Police Girl," Alucard suggested, "She still thinks like a human, most of the time."
Integra didn't reply. The vampire drifted to the wall and passed through it as effortlessly as if it was mist. The darkness in the stone office got even heavier and darker, if possible. It was always darkest before dawn.
---
Walter C. Ddollneazz stood atop the platform overlooking the training grounds and observed the police going through the practical section of their selection exam. The sky overhead was still overcast, the sun only just visible as a slight light patch behind the clouds. The wind had also sprung up and Walter predicted the afternoon would bring rain. Next to him on the platform stood David Caulfield, one of the Hellsing soldiers sick when the rest were massacred at the Tower. In contrast to Walter's freely blowing horsetail his army cut brown/blonde hair didn't move an inch. He was pencilled-in to become the leader of the Hellsing Organisation's Army, so taking over from the late Peter Ferguson. The most able of the three that remained, Integra and Walter had decided it would be wise to place someone at least slightly experienced in the position. As little combat experience with Hellsing as he had, at least he knew something of the system. His position was only temporary though, although he certainly had potential.
Special Officer Seras Victoria joined the two men. She had been called back to active service for a time and would be instrumental in helping to train the new recruits. At a time such as this every bit of experience was invaluable.
"How are they going?" she asked, glancing at Walter strangely. His hands were tucked into a long overcoat, yet even though the weather was overcast it couldn't be called cold.
"They seem to be doing well for their level of training," he answered her.
"Some of them show good potential," Caulfield added.
"How many turned up?"
"More than we expected," Walter answered, "It seems some brought friends from other areas. We currently have twenty seven trying out."
"Not too bad then," Seras commented. Some were better than none.
"They have to pass, though," Caulfield warned her, "And Hellsing has very high standards, even when they are lowered out of desperation."
"Even if they all pass we won't quite have one full squad," Walter reminded them.
"And they will be untrained," Seras looked downcast.
"Desperately so, I'm afraid, Miss Victoria," Walter agreed, "But that is no reason to be pessimistic, it should be looked upon as a challenge."
Seras smiled at him, "Yeah."
"Proper language, Miss Victoria, when have you ever heard a vampire use slang?" Walter chided her.
"Er, sorry, Walter," the vampire replied.
"That man is disqualified!" Caulfield shouted to one of the other Hellsing survivors, Williams as he pointed to the far right corner of the training maze. The new leader hadn't once taken his eyes from the action below.
"Which number?" Williams called from the ground.
"Eighteen," Caulfield called back, "He shot a civilian target."
"Right then," Williams noted this.
"One down," Seras commented to herself.
"And number seven," Walter called down.
"Sorry!" Williams yelled, he was having trouble hearing over the sound of gunfire.
"And number seven!" Walter shouted again, "He panicked and kept trying to shoot the legs off the FREAK target."
"Right then."
From another section the sound of screaming reached the platform as a candidate scrambled away from the reaching grip of a fake ghoul and ran from the training compound.
"Number thirty one," Seras supplied.
"Well he's definitely out!" Williams yelled back.
One of the testing officers who had been behind the man stood back slightly and executed a quick, neat shot to the training dummy's head. It fell back into the corner it had been concealed in.
"Who was that man?" Walter asked.
"Number two," Caulfield replied, looking the number up on his list, "A one Hugh Johnson."
"Really? Very interesting," Walter commented to himself.
"He's good, isn't he, Walter?" Seras asked the Hellsing retainer.
"It seems to be so," he replied, not taking his eyes once from the man below.
A few more minutes passed and the wind gusts got stronger, buffeting the Hellsing personnel on the deck. Walter took one last look at the training ground below and took his leave. When no-one was looking he grabbed the handrail to help him down the steps. Limping still he walked slowly back to his office, his back which was usually ram-rod straight bent so that he was hunched over. By the time he got back to his office his legs were trembling badly and he wondered how long they would have continued to hold him up.
---
Dawn broke near the Apennines Mountains, deep in Italy. Situated close to the capital, Rome, the small chapel built on the mountain slopes was actually closer to Vatican City. Whitewashed and surrounded by artfully tended gardens, the chapel and adjoining cloisters was the perfect retreat for those seeking spiritual growth, peace or healing.
Just beyond its bounds a small thicket of trees grew, one a tall and imposing pine. With a grunt and a determined set to his jaw Paladin Alexander Anderson swung himself into it. Reaching one arm up he gripped a large branch and swung himself up onto the next branch. Using only his arms he climbed the tree making sure it was his arms that pulled him up enough to reach the next branch, and not a push from his legs. Sweat pouring down his face and a manic gleam behind his glasses the priest pulled himself up again and again. Finally reaching as far as his weight would take him, Anderson laughed triumphantly,
"My arms are healed!" the laugh echoed through the gently rolling, lush green valley. He was healed, and ready for his next mission!
---
Spirit: Doctors around the world are tonight warning of an epidemic of madness.
Seras: You can't catch madness!
Spirit: Not normally, but this is no ordinary madness. It involves a lot of adjectives and descriptions such as "a manic gleam behind his glasses". How can you have a manic gleam behind glasses if there are no eyes?
Seras: I think it was taken for granted that he did have eyes, it was just a figure of expression.
Spirit: Well it was very bad expression then; I was starting to think Anderson did not have eyes.
Seras: (goes white) I think he's scary enough as it is.