I am very grateful to my reviewers and to those who have put this story on their alert/favorite list! You're all motivating me to keep up with this story, and I appreciate your enthusiasm and support! I would also like to thank all of my silent readers as well – you know who you are – for your interest in the story (hopefully, continued interest)!
My goodness, October was busy, and this month seems to be heading in the same direction. December can't come quick enough. -_-' I intended to finish editing and publish this chapter on Halloween, but as luck would have it, I got sick.
Please read, review, and enjoy! :)
I do not own Hellsing.
The contents of Amelia's recently-filled stomach churned as she sat beside a table of needles, vials, and assorted medical instruments that made her feel wholly uncomfortable. Despite her initial reluctance, she had eaten all the food that was offered, not knowing when her next meal would be. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, and she avoided looking at the doctor as he approached the table. She knew what was coming.
Calm down! You've gotten shots before and lived. He said he was just going to take some blood and…and… She swallowed. Her throat was dry. And then they'll see that all of this is silly, and vampires do not exist, even if they thought they did before… She gave up on her attempts at optimistic thought; it was more realistic for the worst expectations to be met.
"Let's begin, Miss Harker." The doctor spoke up, startling her. "Hold out your arm."
Ready to get the event over with, she offered the doctor her left arm and looked away. There was a damp swipe against the inside of her elbow, and her muscles tensed in anticipation.
"The more tense you are, the more it hurts," Doc mumbled, giving a small shake of his head.
Amelia glanced at him, instantly regretting it when she caught sight of the needle in his hand. She looked away again, eyes darting towards a bookshelf where she caught a glimpse of movement. Squinting to analyze the shelf, she recognized the teen peeking out from behind a row of books.
A small squeak left her, just as she felt the needle break the skin of her arm. She looked towards the sudden pain, staring with wide eyes at the needle in her arm.
"It's not that bad." The doctor commented, face tilting in her direction.
After several seconds, Amelia managed to tear her gaze away from the pooling blood and towards the bookshelf, only to find the teenager gone. "That…" she whispered, making a fist at the discomfort in her arm.
"What's the matter?" Doc asked, not sounding particularly worried.
"That boy…"
The doctor's hand stilled for a second, distracted by her comment. "Schrödinger?" He seemed patient enough to answer her, so she continued, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret.
"Is he," she frowned, hesitating, "real? Er, his ears? " She finished lamely, not sure how to broach the topic.
"For the time being," was the cryptic answer she received, much to her dissatisfaction. The thin man straightened from his hunched position over her arm, removing the filled tube and securing an empty one in its place. The smile on his face had gone sour. "You saw him in here?"
He spun on his heel without waiting for a reply and regarded the large room with an air of frustration. "I know you're still in here! What have I told you about coming in without my permission?" As soon as the words left his mouth, a groan echoed through the laboratory.
The blonde cat-eared male was at the doctor's desk, slumped in his chair, arms and legs dangling over the arm rests and seat. Amelia blinked, confused as to how she had missed him in such an obvious location.
"But you'd never let me in here," pouted Schrödinger, feline ears twitching. His pink eyes flickered in Amelia's direction.
Great, he's doing that creepy stare again. She leaned to the side so that the doctor blocked his view of her.
"That's the point," Doc replied, heaving a long sigh. "I don't know why you never pester someone else when they're busy."
"Because you're more fun," Schrödinger smiled, stretching his arms behind his head before pushing himself up in the chair. "And now there's somebody new. She won't try to kill me like Zorin, and she probably doesn't sing all day either."
Amelia frowned from behind Doc. A Nazi scientist and a war monger were already interested in her; she didn't want that list to grow any longer.
"You can spend as much time as you want with her, only when I am not around." Schrödinger perked up at this, and Amelia sagged. "Now get out," snapped Doc, turning his back to the cat-boy, who stuck his tongue out and promptly disappeared.
Amelia's mouth opened in surprise. He just disappeared… Did he teleport?! Is that a real thing? That would explain his appearance and exit on the jet, but how? He's not like the monsters from father's stories, he's like Cheshire… She regarded Doc as he began pulling out vials from the rack on the table beside her with a newfound fear and reluctant curiosity. A cat-boy who can disappear at will, a Major who talks about vampires as though they exist, and that Captain who is clearly not an albino. They're not just Nazis or some fanatical cult. Who, or what, are they really?
Her eyes travelled down to the tube of blood as the doctor removed it. Goosebumps broke out on her arms. Monsters. Maybe Doc experimented on Schrödinger? Oh God, I'm not going to grow cat ears too, am I?
Doc carefully picked up the rack of blood samples and turned to Amelia. "Behind that green curtain is a room," he gestured with a nod of his head. "Not behind the blue curtain or any of the other colored fabrics, but behind the green one," he emphasized slowly, as though she might have trouble comprehending his words. "You will sleep in there. I would not advise you to leave this area – there is no guaranteeing your safety if you wander around alone."
With a swish of his stained coat, he moved for the exit. When he reached the control pad he hesitated, looking over his shoulder. "It would also be prudent of you to not touch anything in this room – look around all you like." His expression turned dark. "If that brat comes in here, make sure he does not touch anything."
Amelia rubbed at her bandaged arm and released an inaudible sigh. I'm a prisoner and they're making me babysit? Anyway, how am I supposed to look after someone who comes and goes as he pleases? She had no intention of leaving the laboratory on her own, and the doctor's warning only supported her belief that she was making the right decision not to do so.
The doors slid shut and the laboratory was silent, save for the humming of a generator and a couple of other strange machines.
She gave a furtive glance around the room. If I can get away before Schrödinger knows the doctor is gone, maybe he won't bother me? No sign of the feline teenager.
Tip-toing to the faded green curtain, she warily pulled it back, half-expecting to see something horrific behind it. There was only a door. Testing the knob, she found it unlocked and pushed the door open.
Flipping the light switch, she found a decently sized room with white walls, a bed in the corner with clean sheets, a small wooden dresser, and no windows. It was all a little too white, and reminded her very much of a hospital room; but the real problem was Schrödinger, who lie sprawled out on her bed. His eyes were closed, but Amelia had a hunch that he was not asleep.
She looked at the green curtain behind her, separating the room from the rest of the lab. Stay in the lab of a mad scientist or sit in a room and endure the hybrid teenager…? Neither sounded appealing, but in the end her exhaustion won out.
Approaching the bed, she reached out and poked the male's shoulder. Pink eyes opened and Schrödinger's mouth stretched into a sharp-toothed grin.
Keeping her expression blank, she took a step back. "Will you please get out of the bed? I'm tired –" Schrödinger's mouth opened, and she quickly finished, "– and not in the mood to talk."
The cat-boy sat up and let his legs swing over the side of the bed, kicking them back and forth. "Doc said I could come when he's not around." Schrödinger replied, grin still in place, seemingly ignoring her comment. "You're another Harker, ja? Do you have fangs? The other one did…"
Amelia shook her head after a pause, caught off guard by the remark. A moment later she walked to the bed and sat down as far away as possible from the other teenager. If I'm boring, he'll leave…
"Have you drunk someone's blood before?"
Another head shake.
"Do you have advanced reflexes?"
Another head shake.
The smile faded and dark cat ears flattened in annoyance at her silent answers. It was difficult to stop staring at them when they wouldn't stop moving. "You smell weird."
"What?" Her response was instantaneous, and she cursed herself a moment later for letting an answer slip out.
Schrödinger leaned in close and sniffed as she leaned away. "You don't smell like the others. Not like the Battalion, but not like the Werewolves either." The teenager was invading her personal space and giving no indication that he would move away. She would have thought he was messing with her, but his eyebrows now bent down in a curious fashion, and the Cheshire grin was gone.
"Would you mind not doing that?" Amelia slowly extended her arm and gently pushed him away at his shoulder; he did not resist.
"Doing what?"
She withdrew her hand and scratched her bandaged arm awkwardly. "People don't smell each other. At least, not like that."
Schrödinger cocked his head and laughed. "You're funny. I think I like you."
Amelia's face turned red and she looked away.
"Maybe you'll last longer than She."
The statement made the older teen stiffen. Turning back towards Schrödinger, the color swiftly drained from her face. The cat-boy wore a closed-eyed grin that suddenly seemed less childish and silly, and for a second, Amelia was afraid of him. He's just as insane as the others.
"Ja, She was amusing too—maybe too amusing, since she didn't last long enough for Doc to complete his work."
Amelia's eyes began to burn, and she clenched her jaw. Anger rose in her chest, casting her fear aside.
Schrödinger's eyes opened, and he appeared an obnoxious teenager again. "Hey, you look like Doc with that face!" Clapping his hands, he pointed at her with a snicker. "Except he's not as sensitive as you. I've never seen him cry before." His nose wrinkled slightly in distaste.
Amelia sniffed and stood up, rubbing at her eyes. "Leave me alone," she said, her voice low.
"Eh?"
"Get out." There was no point in trying to hide the tears because now they wouldn't stop. Feelings of sadness and hatred overwhelmed her, threatening to break her self-control.
Facing Schrödinger, she pulled him off the bed by the front of his shirt, unsure if she was about to punch him or not. Her free hand was clamped into a fist as if ready to do so, while the cat-boy on the receiving end of her teary-eyed glare seemed unable to make up his mind between leaving and making another comment.
"You…" Her voice cracked, cutting the sentence short. After a few more seconds, she pushed him away with a grunt.
Tugging the bed's top sheet away from the mattress, she punched her pillow and then curled into a fetal position, wrapping the blankets around her and letting out a muffled sob from within.
Whether Schrödinger stayed in the room a while longer or left was unknown as Amelia cried herself into a deep yet troubled sleep.