Youth and Innocence
Chapter 7
Standard disclaimer: All characters belong to Kohta Hirano and his publishers. I have no stake in them.
7.
As his head slid through the neck of the black turtleneck, Walter was less than surprised to find two red eyes only inches from his own. "Come to watch me dress have you?" He laughed to see the rest of the vampire ease into solid form. "Well, that's certainly low key!" Somehow, Walter reflected, the face is always identifiable. It's always Alucard, though the wrapping may change considerably. As Walter bent down to lace his shoes on, the vampire began spinning, apparently to watch the ostentatious red duster flare out behind him. He would've worried about the furniture in his small room, but Alucard, like a ghost, passed through all obstacles.
Humming softly to the Roma music in his head, Alucard danced out his joy, delighting in his new appearance. The dance was courtesy of the many nights he spent by the fires of the Szgany. Undeterred by his dance partner's rejection, he shook his raven hair and returned to another age. It took the sight of his beloved Cassull to pull him from the bonfire dance. "Walter," he said simply, never taking his eye off of the obscenely large caliber gun.
It always made Walter happy to see his gun smithing appreciated and no one appreciated his work like Alucard. "Would you mind coming down from my dresser?" The former No-Life King dropped soundlessly, as if his whole world was in Walter's hands.
"Ammo?" Alucard took the weapon, immediately aiming it at Walter's forehead. He was pleased at the lack of outward reaction from his old ward.
"The old silver magazines are all we have for now." Ignoring the large caliber handgun, he opened a case, tossing four full clips to the vampire, never really sure where they went once Alucard caught them. "We'll need new ones made now that it's back in use."
"Are they still potent?" Alucard stared down the barrel, as if the answer was one that could be seen. He recalled that each was made from melted down Eucharistic serving pieces, just a bit of the blessed silver in each. Could they actually lose holiness?
"You might try touching one, I suppose--" The sound of the gunshot in the small space made Walter jump out of his skin, especially since it had most recently been aimed at him. "Bloody Hell Alucard!" He pulled himself off the wall he'd been pressed into by the concussive effect. The 'bloody' vampire in question stood with a gaping hole where his stomach should have been and a smile on his face. "Jesus!" Alucard was behaving even stranger than he remembered.
"Lovely! Just lovely, Walter!" Delicious feelings swirled inside him as the holy silver fought his regenerative powers. He ignored the sound of humans running along the hallway. He had his gun back. Walter had taken care of it for him. He was complete again, first his coffin, then the gun. The old man could manage the damage control with his fellow agents. Alucard had the more important task of relishing his new life.
"No, no, just an accident." Walter kept the door as closed as possible while reassuring the other men.
Another voice, "Take it to the range next time, Dollnez."
Someone else, "Holy Shite, you could've killed one of us."
"Oh dear," Walter's smooth voice came back into the room, "trigger's just a bit too jumpy, yes I'll put it away until I can get to the shop."
"You headin' out again, Walter?"
"Well, I'm following a hunch that Lady Hellsing had about the Scottish site. Just finishing my packing, then heading out. Flying this time, luckily. Good night."
Men's voices continued to grumble in the hallway, but Walter shut the door and turned back to the grinning Alucard.
"I won't ask if you're happy now, clearly you are." Walter's face was flushed with anger. "I also don't need to ask if you've eaten recently, clearly you have!"
Alucard threw him a wicked grin. "You held out on me with Bennett."
"Now listen up, Midian!" Walter was as angry as he'd been in years, "He was a good man and he died well, I will hear no more about it." The hole in Alucard's clothing was now fully healed, testimony to his powers. Walter pointed at the recent wound, pleased at the look of confusion that replaced Alucard's smugness. "A certain manic depressive woman with a history of suicidal attempts finally succeeded last night in Sheffield, train decapitation. Strange bit of news in the police report was that she didn't leave much blood at the scene..." A half smile played on the creature's lips, "oh, and there was evidence that she'd had a lover that night as well. No DNA evidence and no violence, but apparently she died a bit happier than she lived." He tried to keep his feeling of justified anger, but Alucard's grin was getting broader. "Your M.O., wouldn't you say?"
"You pulled the report?" He tilted his head, his manic smile in place, "why?"
"I won't do it again! You strung me up and left me to answer her questions. Next time you'll have to account as well!"
Walter's raised voice drew a knock on the door. "Dollnez? What are you on about?" The rapping at the door jolted Walter out of his anger.
Smoothing his hair and regaining the calm that was what most people ever knew of him, Walter went to the door. "Nothing, Leung. Just yelling at the tele. I'm heading out now, though. Sorry to be such a bother tonight." Before turning around, he knew Alucard was gone. Good, he sighed, he can damn well find his own way there.
Alucard found Integra in the hallway. He fell into step behind her, deciding not to appear until she sensed him. Integra stopped, turning her head back and forth, "Hullo?"
Unable to resist the temptation, Alucard formed his body along the back of hers, making her stumble to separate herself. "Orders, my Master?" He had to suppress a smile as she looked up at his low bow. Her body's reaction was all he needed anyway.
"Oh," she forgot for a second that she didn't want him to be seen. "You're heading out, right? Um, with Walter?" Integra flinched from his look.
"Your orders, Master?" He stressed the second word, but she clearly didn't understand the arrangement. It's all right, he reminded himself, he had plenty of time.
Integra tried to interpret; this meant something to him. He stood in front of her, gloved hands behind his back in an almost regal pose. Suddenly it struck her that they were in the hallway near the back entrance where anyone could catch sight of them. Of course, the mansion was lightly staffed at night, but still she looked around for a room to move into.
"There are no humans near us, Master," Alucard noted, trying to keep her on topic. "You've asked me to find targets and kill them, would you say those are my orders?"
"Do what you like," from the moment the words left her lips, she knew they were wrong. The look in his weird eyes spoke of burning buildings and the Thames running red with blood. "No! No, that's not the order," she waved her arms, feeling like a right idiot, "more like you said."
He let a sigh shake his frame, though he had plenty of time before Walter would touch Scottish soil. "Master, your commands are the keys to my power. Your ancestors saw fit to lock it away from me using the control arts. I am granted limited access in order to complete the orders you give me. Do you understand now?" He spoke slowly, as if explaining to a child why the sky is blue.
Far from being annoyed by his manner, Integra was relieved. Finally, she felt, something was being explained. "By all means then, what command will let you finish the task at hand?" A chorus of howls began outside, near the stables.
"Search and destroy," he smiled as she repeated his words. She was gullible enough to work with and his new persona helped lower her guard. He could easily complete the mission without tapping his reserve powers, but now he was assured fun. "Releasing control art restriction level three," he was not so lost in his joy that he couldn't see Integra's face as she felt his voice reverberate in her head, "continuing until target is silenced." All pretense at secrecy was gone as his howling darkness filled the night sky.
Alucard immediately took points off them for lack of style. The industrial park lacked soul, showed no imagination. He allowed himself a chuckle at his own expense, perhaps expecting some grand castle. He stayed far enough away to avoid raising hackles. Even from a distance, the stench of decay was noticeable. Humans must miss it in the foul factory air that hangs over this section of town; he shook his head. There must be fifty or more ghouls, brought here, he imagined, otherwise agents would have found them due to sheer population loss.
As there was little external activity, Alucard allowed several of his eyes to turn inward, examining memories to trace the changes in Walter since he'd taken on the tasks that would otherwise have been given to the 'Hellsing pet.' The vampire was quite pleased with the results.
A lorry rumbled nearby and Alucard trained his senses on it. Packages within indicated human blood. Smart, he nodded, feeding your fledglings enough to keep them under control. They obviously wanted to stay hidden. The only question now was whether the large supply of blood meant they were stocking up or did they had a horde to feed? Please be the latter, he prayed. Instead of barging in to satisfy his curiosity, Alucard stretched his mind to find Walter. After a few moments he sensed the slow approach of a military vehicle.
The driver, under strict orders to cooperate fully with the old man, got out to open the door, but Walter was already out and running. "Sir? Is this where you... sir?" He saw a flash of red, but reminded himself that he wasn't paid to think, just to get back in the car and wait.
Walter kept sight of Alucard until they arrived at the address, then lost him in a sea of ghouls. He hoped the vampire would conserve bullets by letting Walter take point through the advancing tide, but his orders were moot before the battle began. The ghouls were a typical advance strategy among their foe, with lesser vampires following and only then would the main enemy show himself. This whole case had gone against type though, leaving Hellsing one step behind. At least tonight they hadn't packed up and fled before he arrived. Walter's calm, logical thoughts soon gave way to his instincts and the pure joy of killing.
Strings sang out as they whipped through zombie bodies, separating heads, torsos and arms. Male and female labels no longer applied to this type of undead. The turning of a vampire victim into a ghoul leaves a generic, hulking chunk of clothes-wearing flesh, nasty to smell and none too bright. He said a silent prayer for those whose defiled bodies he put down. Walter used his teeth to pull the cables back through more bodies. They were coming fast, Alucard must've rushed through, leaving him to fight more than he'd like to. No doubt the vampire was in a hurry to find more of his kind, ghouls not being much of a challenge to him. Walter smiled, it felt just like old times. He pulled back once more, aware that they were trying to circle him, but confident that he could tear them apart before any harm was done. Rudimentary tactics were within the brain capacity of these otherwise mindless drones, but he didn't rule out a vampire watching and directing the action. If Alucard would resist playing with the puppet master, this could be over with quickly. He heard the blasts from his handiwork as Alucard made his way through the hallways. Walter leaned back on his heels, purposefully losing balance as his arms circled, carving swathes of destruction and body parts around him. This was his dance.
The scene before Alucard took a few moments to comprehend, upended pine boxes, fleeing vampires and the smell of ashes. They were killing their own? How dare they! That was his fun. "Releasing control art restriction, level two," he felt the shock again from Integra's mind and allowed himself a second to touch hers as she paced in her father's room, worrying for Walter and now her sanity. Arthur had truly taught her nothing. The pleasure that thought brought did nothing to assuage his anger at the cockroaches that scurried in front of him. Forming his ire into a burst of darkness, he blew apart the nearest intact vampire. Where the room had been filled with screams of confusion, anger and pain before, it now became eerily quiet. For every eye that now focused on him, Alucard presented one to stare right back at it.
In the silence one idiot came forward, forgetting that moments before he'd been fleeing his own mates, he now rushed at Alucard's form. The No Life King allowed himself a large grin at the upstart's courage. This one had had no time to develop any power besides hunger, so it was nothing to let him get close, let him draw blood, and it had the intended effect. A rush of fifteen young vampires made their way across the room. After crushing the head of the little brave one, he sent the body flying, dispersing dust in the faces of the coming ones. Pathetic, he thought, I might as well be playing with ghouls. He held his Casull loosely, his other hand signaling for them to hurry. "Don't forget, to say your prayers." Several stopped and looked toward one doorway, near the back of the warehouse. Good, that's where they look for direction. Alucard felt a slight spark of hope. Casting his energies over their heads, he surged to the back room.
A stray thought wandered into Walter's consciousness, between the spaces he was using to calculate distance and wire length. I could use some help here. As he leaped atop a medical waste container to get over one pile of ghoul corpses and create another, his muscles longed to be back in his own little bed. This would be a mission to bring the army along on. Walter kept his back to the wall as he moved toward the next moaning mass of undead. If Hellsing had its own army, they wouldn't just be fodder for creatures that weren't supposed to exist... he'd think about this a bit more before suggesting it, there'd be dissent among his fellow agents. A two by four took his mind in another direction, mainly down with the rest of his body. Gritting his teeth, Walter tasted the blood that filled his mouth. He spat a glob out and prayed his nose wasn't broken, then pulled his knees up under himself and launched at his attacker, a silver line between his thumbs. Without its head the corpse collapsed, a slab of wood falling harmlessly at its feet, but Walter was already gone, making his way toward what he hoped was the last of the ghouls. He swore at himself for getting distracted.
Red mists swirled around the hapless vampire as he laughed, his goal still out of reach. The door in front of him had changed size, location and distance in the past few minutes. There were many things he couldn't understand about what went wrong, but they were all unimportant now. Even the emergency call to clear out the fledglings was unimportant. Escape was the only thing he could concentrate on. His laughter was shrill to his ears, fear overwhelming his body. "Unworthy," the word came to his mind and found purchase there. He'd been unworthy of the holy obligation he'd been given. It was over now. "Unworthy," the word rang out again, this time from the creature that the blessed door had become. A looming, red beast judging him like the Bible foretold. He had escaped that judgment when he was initiated, but now it stalked him as he ran. The elders anger was nothing to this nightmare he was living.
"Forgive me, please," he pleaded as he fell to his knees. The creature kept its counsel, smiling and drooling at him. "I've tried, only just be understanding, it's not my fault." If they'd given him any notice, he'd have cleared them all out to the safe vaults, not even ghouls to give them away. If only...
"No challenge!" The beast turned its back to him, finding him too pathetic to play with.
"No, wait," he wasn't sure why, but it felt important to be found worthy in some way. When the Hell beast turned back to him, it was only a vampire that looked at him. Why had he been so scared? "I..."
"Yes? Speak quickly, fool." Disappointment rang through the words.
Looking at the red clad demon opposite him, the cultist began to feel a surge of courage. The devil comes in many shapes, to deceive and tempt us, surely this was just a test, appearing as a vampire? "You, you've come for my soul?"
Alucard sneered his contempt, "your soul? Why would I want that piece of trash?"
"What, what do you... " the vampire shrank into himself. "Who are you?"
"I smelled your foul blood on those creatures out there. Why? Why are you creating so many worthless-," he couldn't bring himself to call them vampires, but the weakling interrupted, happy to have anything to please Alucard with.
"I, I, well, they had us, we... I'm not supposed to be telling anyone this," he hid his eyes, finding a touch of courage if he didn't look directly at the devil. "I'm supposed to die before talking, but the plan is to-."
Alucard considered and rejected the idea of mind raping or consuming the young vampire. From what the cowering idiot had already revealed, there were others pulling the strings and he'd have more fun teasing them out than having them handed to Hellsing. His direct order was search and destroy. "Then DIE!" The Cassull blasted several holes in the flailing body before dust flew. "Target silenced." He knew she heard, but would not understand. It was tempting to leave, but he felt Walter out in the large room, his timing beginning to fail as the aging body tired.
Don't panic, she told herself. Integra walked down the stairs, one hand smoothing down stray hairs. I am not going insane. It must be some trick of that vampire. Her eyes barely saw the house around her as she walked along the hallway. How can his voice come, unbidden to my mind? She wanted answers, not more infernal questions! Her father kept certain weird books in his office, locked away. She changed direction, happy to have a goal.
"Evening Miss," the accented voice startled Integra as she entered what was now her office. One of the agents moved around her desk, shifting papers into folders and marking them with notes. "You're up late, no?"
He was old, like all of the people around her, she realized. "Agent Pettrus, what are you doing here?"
"Well, we keep odd hours. That's to be expected." Noting the confusion on her face, he added, "Oh, I thought you knew. I'm to be your new secretary, Miss."
"Oh," her face flushed with a rush of guilt over Mr. Bennett's death.
"It was in the note, he asked me to take over, after he, well Walter and he..." Pettrus looked away, toward the portrait of her grandfather that hung on the wall. He gestured as he spoke, "It was the custom, when I came on, that we should all be trained for house and Hellsing work. Make it look a little strange all these young men around with no job, see?" He smiled as she nodded, clearly thinking of other things. "Me, I do office and switchboard. Been a while, but I can take over. When I'm not in the field, no doubt." There was a question at the end of that statement. All the agents wanted to know how she was going to be handing out assignments. He remembered the transition when her father officially took over and Walter was given the best jobs.
"Yes, I see," she thought on what he'd said. Young men indeed! If they'd been young once, it wasn't clear now. She'd seen that plainly in the files. Pettrus had been with them since 1955, former communist military defector and most of the agents had likewise come on in the fifties and sixties. How would they recruit new agents? Picking on orphans and shell shocked veterans was the method her grandfather seemed to have used. He'd died years before Integra's birth, but she suspected that he must've been a right bastard, especially after she read Walter's file. The version she saw was heavily edited, she was sure and it still came off cruel. No wonder he'd become... She shuddered and focused back on Mr. Pettrus whose taciturn face was unreadable. "Yes, well I have a few things I need you to get started with." She crossed to the desk. "Here's a list of tutors I'd like to schedule and I'll need continued practical training as well, guns, fencing and the like. Can you locate people we can trust for that?"
Another smile cracked across his broad face, threatening to challenge her image of him as a grumpy old man. "You have a staff full of trainers, Miss. I'll arrange it all for you."
As grateful as she felt, Integra would've preferred if he would leave so she could scare up the old books she came for. She started opening all the drawers, as discreetly as she could.
Pettrus cleared his throat, "If I may Miss? What are you looking for?"
Integra almost told him, then checked that urge, "I think my father left a pocket knife in here, I'm just looking." She gave him a 'I'm a silly kid' grin, just in case.
"Oh, yes, I expect he has a few things hid away in there. That drawer there was his humidor," he pointed a white gloved finger at a drawer she thought held files. She slid it open to find a stash of cigars of different types. "Mind you, that may be part of what killed him, no?"
Integra nodded, that topic was too raw for words. The scent from the humidor brought her father's image to her mind so clearly it was as if he was there with her. She drew a long breath and closed it. Integra went on searching a bit more openly. In the time it took her to inspect every drawer, Pettrus had her desk under control, the piles were cleared, with case folders and boxes replacing the unmanageable mess. If she hadn't still felt so annoyed at not locating her father's keys, Integra might've kissed the agent, geezer or no. "Thank you, Mr. Pettrus."
"Tom, please Miss, just Tom."
Going from being the kid in the house to its lord was no easy thing. For one thing she had to relearn how to address everyone. "Tom," she smiled. "And you can call me Integra, not Miss."
He nodded, but his smile had faded. It was hard for all of them. "I have your schedule for tomorrow, Miss... Integra, but if I may, I think you'll have to call a meeting soon, Mis- I'm sorry, may I call you sir or ma'am or some such? It's that it's, well, I've been a soldier so long..."
"Yes, of course, 'sir' would be nice," she thought about the status of her knighthood request, how long could they sit on that? Even her late uncle had an honorary knight title, not with the Royal Protestant Knights certainly, but a Companion of Honour for service.
"Yes, well, sir, I'd like to request you meet with us agents, formally, and let us know how things will go now. There's no place for rumors here." His hard voice included a warning for her. There were only five active agents left, not counting Walter. Tom, for however long, was out of commission helping her and she had no plans in place for replacing them when they all needed to retire.
"Please do so, I'll speak with Walter in the morning, can we arrange for an afternoon meeting?"
"That's the best time for us... sir," he picked up some boxes. "I'll take these down to storage then head on off to bed, I advise that you do likewise."
She watched him head out of the anteroom door, "Thank you again, agent." Her head was begging her to get to bed; she wondered if it would ever feel like it wasn't stuffed with cotton again. Tonight it was hurting as well. More vampire tricks?
"Not at all, my Master," the voice rang through the room, but she couldn't place where he was.
"What are you doing in my head?" She swung her head around the room before finding him in a corner, cloaked in shadow. He rested on an armchair as if he'd been there all evening, one long leg crossed over the other at the knee.
He regarded her cooly before answering, "The bonds that tie me to your blood also tie you to me."
Integra felt an almost hopeless feeling rise within her. She was shackled with this creature, this enemy, who could pry into her thoughts? Dear Father, why?
Alucard looked away, tracking a bat that flew out over the grounds. He sent a territorial message to it and received its confused submission in response. "You may believe me, Master, I have no interest in the goings on of a teenage girl's mind. I use discretion regarding our mental link."
False bravado was all she had to fall back on. "Go away." She saw him flick his glowing eyes at her, then back out the window. "Get back to wherever you go. Just go."
"You don't need a report?" He showed mild surprise.
"You've already told me you killed your target and I'll hear the rest from Agent Dollnez," she held to a cold tone, unsure what he could tell about how she felt. Before her final words had left her lips, he was gone. Integra glared at her grandfather's portrait. "Why?"