Thank you to my reviewers and to those who put this story on their alert/favorite list!
Yes, I'm alive! The school year has been very busy thus far, and will continue to be for a while; so again, update times are uncertain.
On another note, I should have said this in the first chapter: Alucard will probably not come in to this story until Chapter 12 (at the earliest…maybe). This is, after all, an OCxHans G./Captain story, so the majority of Amelia's interactions will be with Millennium. Alright, that's enough chat from me. On with the story!
Please read, review, and enjoy! :)
I do not own Hellsing.
Hugging herself for comfort and warmth, Amelia followed the doctor down the cold hallway, reluctantly moving closer to him whenever they passed a soldier. There must have not been many females among them, as the majority of the men she passed stared at her either lecherously or as though they had never seen a member of the opposite sex before.
Trying to distract herself from the pair of eyes she felt on her back, she looked at the blank walls, searching for sights and sounds that might give away a clue about her location.
Judging by the size of the corridors, whatever sort of facility she was in was not small in size or lacking the money to finance its construction. The floor and metallic walls were clean, and aside from the doctor's garments, all uniforms looked new and expensive on those they crossed paths with.
The only noises she heard on the walk were the low voices of a couple of officers and her own muffled footsteps. Besides these, all else was quiet, as though the facility was soundproof.
Doc halted in front of a wooden door, its make looking out of place against the cold surroundings. One might have thought that everything was built for the purpose of defending from a military invasion.
After knocking, he opened the door half way to pause. "Major. I did not expect you." From behind the gangly scientist, Amelia glimpsed a man sitting at a long table, a wine glass and plate of food in front of him. "We can return when you're finished." Doc nodded as if this was a wise decision before moving to close the door.
"No, no." A voice stopped him, and there was the delicate ring of silverware against china. "Bring her in. I want to meet the little Frӓulein."
Amelia didn't like the man's voice: it sounded sickly jovial, if not a little malicious.
The doctor pushed the door open wider and stepped aside to let her enter the room, following behind and silently shutting the door.
At the head of the table sat the man Doc had called Major, dressed in white with neatly combed hair. The soft light cast shadows across his face, and he smiled, bringing to mind an image of an inmate attempting to play the role of a sane man.
Standing behind the man in charge was the Captain, quiet and face partially hidden by his cap and collar.
The Major pointed his fork toward one of the chairs at the table, a gesture for her to sit.
Without a word she sat down, balling her hands into fists in her lap and staring at the white table cloth. There was some relief in not having to take a seat directly beside him.
The Major stabbed a piece of steak with his fork and raised it to his mouth, watching her. He chuckled after swallowing and asked in an amused voice, "You're sure this is her?" She glanced from Doc, who had taken a seat beside her, to the Major. Realizing he was still observing her, she looked back down to the table.
"I'm running the tests now to confirm it, and I'm going to take some blood after she eats. But I'm already sure, Major."
"Excellent! It will be good to begin moving forward again. And what do you call yourself, Frӓulein?"
Amelia's heart skipped a beat when he addressed her, and she spared him another quick glance, although her eyes did not meet his. "Amelia." Voice tight, she swallowed to loosen her constricting throat. It was likely the Major already knew her name, only asking the question to enjoy seeing her discomfort.
"Amelia Harker… Quite different from our other guest. She was not so timid."
Amelia frowned at his statement. He's calling me Harker too?
"There it is!" The Major hissed and she jumped, unable to stop herself from staring at the portly man after his sudden exclamation. "That's it!" His grin grew wider. "That emotion in the eyes: the ignorance, anger, suspicion. Those are the same eyes that She looked upon us with when we brought her here."
She who? And why do these…psychos…act like they know a deep, dark secret of mine? I don't have any big secrets. She glanced at Doc, who looked vaguely bored. "I think there's been a mistake."
At her confused expression, the Major's eyebrows rose. "The little Frӓulein is in the dark, is she?" He looked to the doctor.
"I believe so," Doc slowly replied. "Jonathan Harker supposedly withdrew from society after everything that happened. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose?"
"If not a little dangerous," the Major added. "Tell me, Frӓulein: do you like war?" He put down the silverware and leaned back in his chair, waiting for her reply.
"No." Her answer was immediate and unwavering.
"You don't love the thrill in struggling between life and death? The excitement of not knowing who will win until the game's over?"
Amelia shrank back in her chair, disturbed by the animation that had come over his character in discussing such a topic. She gave her head a shake, keeping her eyes on him. Not that she wanted to look at him, but she felt that turning away would be the equivalent of putting her back to a wild animal. "I do not like that."
Is he expecting me to agree with him? Maybe he's trying to test me…
"But war is a game! And who does not enjoy games?" Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, Amelia opted to remain silent.
"I love war. I love the violence, the struggle, the passion, the sacrifice, the fire, the chaos. I love the machinations of war, the resulting tragedies. The screams and cries of the oppressed and dying are music to my ears. Life at its very loudest." The Major's fists clenched in the ardor of his confession, and the crescendo of his voice suddenly gave way to silence.
After a moment, he continued, lowly, as if speaking to himself. "War. Conflict. Competition. It is the instinct of all living things. And our intention is to give in to it."
Amelia let out an inaudible breath. She had forgotten to breathe during his speech, and now she let his words sink in as she tried to steady her panic. These people really are crazy. No mentally healthy human would have such a strong bloodlust. He obviously wants conflict, but where am I supposed to fit into this picture? No one would fight over me, much less go to war. What could I have that he wants?
When the Major did not say anything more, she decided to ask the question. She would probably regret inquiring, but it was better than not knowing what terrible plans awaited her. "You say you like war. Like you want it. S-so why did you abduct me?" If she found out what he was looking for, she might be able to find a way to keep this neo-Nazi organization from obtaining it. Maybe they would even let her go if she convinced them that she was useless to their cause.
"I want a war that is bigger than the past couple the world has seen – a battle that will drown everyone and everything. Millennium exists to unleash such a cataclysmic war upon the Earth; and you are here to help us do so."
He really thinks I'm going to help him destroy the world? I can't do that! No individual has the power to accomplish such a thing.
The Major leaned forward against the table, steepling his gloved fingers. "Do you believe in monsters, Frӓulein?"
Amelia tilted her head back at the strangeness of his question. Unsure what he was getting at, she began to shake her head. "I –," she suddenly remembered the boy with cat ears, who had appeared and disappeared on the jet without a trace. "What do you mean by 'monsters?'"
Noticing her hesitation, the Major's grin widened. "I'm not describing human beings. I'm speaking of the monsters mentioned in olden tales. Vampires, for example."
There was a pause. She didn't know how he would take her answer. "No."
"Then allow me to enlighten you: monsters exist. The vampire is a perfect example – a being so horrifying and strange and wonderful that it seems a physical impossibility. But such a creature does thrive, even as we speak, sustaining itself on the life-blood of both humans and other ghouls. It is not often that something magnificent such as this will crawl out of Hell to grace the world with its presence."
Amelia didn't know what to say. What could she say? It was crazy. Certifiably so.
"I'm sure you know of the story of Dracula? And of the young Mina Harker?" The Major interrupted her thoughts.
She nodded. That's the name of my grandmother... No, is he trying to link my grandmother to Dracula? Does he not understand the distinction between reality and fantasy? One is a fictional character and the other is a real person! And there are people all over the world who share the same name. Did he just draw lots, and—
"Your grandmother was the woman in the story; the one who survived in the shadow of the first vampire. Imagine what kind of power she had – how that potential could be harnessed and bestowed upon others! The essence, the blood of a vampire, running through her veins! Needless to say, we located her and brought her here."
My grandmother disappeared because she ran away. She wasn't kidnapped. Amelia folded her arms tightly, and the Major's golden eyes flickered to the crossed limbs.
"Your posture suggests you doubt me, but I have no reason to lie. Do you not believe that man-kind has been making progress all these years, learning from its past mistakes?" He gave a small shrug at his own question, the grin never leaving his face. "Millennium is older than you think; not your average group of occultists or neo-Nazis. You'll see for yourself, in time."
"My grandmother wasn't kidnapped."
"You were young when they told you, yes? Maybe too young. What would you think if they told you the truth? We tracked her down, broke through the front door, stormed into the sitting room where she was reading, dragged her out of the house… Would you have been frightened? Afraid that someone would steal you from your home, your family? Were you a timid child?"
Amelia could feel tears building in the corners of her eyes. She never met her grandmother, but the way he talked…
"…Ultimately, we locked her in a cell," he continued, as though his questions didn't need answers. "Unfortunately, time was no more merciful than we, and our work came to a halt a couple years ago as a result of her condition. That's when we were required to alter our plans for a few months and do some research. We knew she had a family, but after we took her the records were tampered with. Someone was protecting your family, making it troublesome to find her descendants. But we persevered. We learned about you and your father. The dead would not nearly do us enough good, so naturally, we settled on you."
The Major picked up his wine glass, swirling its red content. "There is no need to worry now that you are here, little Frӓulein. We are an intelligent species, and as I said before, we learn from our past mistakes."
Raising the glass as though he were making a toast, he eyed her over the rim. "Let us create some companions," he put a hand to his chest, "to aid the monsters in war."
Thoughts: Being a cyborg, does the Major need to eat and drink? I can't say for sure, but I am supposing he needs to obtain nourishment for his remaining organic parts.