Disclaimer:
PKB has no rights to Hellsing and its characters, as well as Pearl Harbor; I am merely borrowing them for this one shot.
Aftermath: Pearl Harbor
People say one sees heaven during one's last moments in life...
So...
Then what does one see if one's time isn't up?
It was night.
The chilling, icy winds blew through the open window, making the linen curtains flutter. The doctors and nurses had called it a night, and were resting soundly in their quarters, but still ready if any emergency were to happen. The hospital was so quiet, one could even hear a pin drop. But the tranquility of the night was broken by a patient's moan.
The man clenched his fists tightly, bearing the pain as his wound opened again. Unable to call for help, he gritted his teeth in pain as dark, crimson red blood seeped through the cast, staining the once white bed sheets. Tears of agony trickled down his cheeks as a wave of pain weaved through his arm. God, help me… he thought, but not before giving out a yelp.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" A voice murmurs beside him. The patient turns his baldhead, his beady black eyes looking intently at the figure that had suddenly appeared. Shades of red immediately cloak his vision.
Tall and thin, the figure donned a single piece suit as black as his unruly short hair, crudely secured by buttons. He looked at the patient with a pair of crimson red orbs that seemed to plunge straight into his soul. Silence hung in the air for a while before the man opened his mouth and asked the first question that comes into his mind; "Who…who…are you?"
"I'm here… to take away your pain," the newcomer replies, dropping to the bed's height, and purrs gently, "I'm here… to relieve you from your agony."
The patient's eyes widen in surprise. "Are… are you… sure?" he asks, unable to believe that such a miracle exists.
"Of course," he purrs gently once again, as he stretches out his white-gloved hand and lightly strokes the patient's jaw with his index finger. The man retaliates for a moment, but eventually gives in to the caressing feeling, that smooth touch. Just then, the patient feels another bout of pain again and opens his mouth to moan, but the man places that very same finger to the patient's lips, quietly silencing him.
"Shhhhhhh," the man gently says, "save your strength; you'll need it."
The patient obeys willingly, closing his mouth and snuggles even deeper into his pillow. He then finally asks the question that has been in his mind for sometime, "Can you… take my pain away now…?"
"Yes," the man responses, "but you need to close your eyes now."
He does, closing his beady eyes. The man then opens his mouth, revealing sharp teeth that resembled miniature daggers, and a pair of elongated canines. He then supports the man's upper body up as he unbuttons the patient's shirt, exposing his tender neck. The man then sinks his teeth into the patient's neck, with blood spurting from the force.
The man stays still for a while, sucking blood quietly from the now dead patient, relishing the sweet taste of the delicious crimson red liquid. Drops of blood run down his gloves, dropping onto the stone cold floor.
After a few minutes, the man releases his hold on the cold, still body, and places it back onto the bed, covering it up with the now stained sheet. Without another word, he turns andretreats into the shadows.
"Alucard," came Arthur Hellsing's voice. The Nosferatu turned his head, a bit annoyed at his Master's tone. "Yes?"
"I read in the papers just now that they found a dead body in a hospital at America this morning; apparently the corpse had been drained of blood."
The vampire raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Master?" he asked, the words practically dripping with sarcasm.
Arthur shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, Alucard. I guess it must be due to that attack on Pearl Harbor; its no surprise if anyone dies of blood loss."
Alucard grinned. "Well, then I guess I should retire for the day now," the vampire said, as he retreated back downstairs. One could have sworn him chuckle as he disappeared into the shadows.