A tip of my hat and plate of cookies for my reviewers! And thank you to my silent readers and those who have put this story on their alert/favorite list as well!
All the canon characters are still in-character, right? I think…? I hope…? I'm trying!
Please read, review, and enjoy! :)
I do not own Hellsing.
Amelia woke to the sound of knocking, panicking when she opened her eyes to an unfamiliar darkness.
"Miss Harker, are you awake?" It was Schrödinger.
Memories of their conversation returned, her sadness replaced by bitterness. For a couple more seconds she remained in bed, wondering if she should reply.
Another pattern of knocks played out. "Miss Harker?"
At least he's not calling me just 'Harker' like before. She dragged herself out of bed and to the door, its location made known by the sliver of light beneath it. She twisted the knob, relieved that no unexpected visitors had tried to pay her a visit while she was asleep.
Her eyes hurt for a moment under the bright lights of the lab, then came to focus on the person in front of her. She let out a quiet, "O-oh," when she realized the man in brown was not Schrödinger. His red eyes peered down at her, face partially hidden by the upturned collar of his jacket. The… Captain? I thought I heard that cat-boy? She took a small step back, visibly intimidated by the large man standing in front of her.
"So you are up, Miss Harker! Doc says you need to eat." The young male in question poked his head out from behind the Captain's large frame, smiling.
Amelia said nothing; she wasn't ready to talk to Schrödinger again. Instead she settled for looking at the green curtain being held aside in the Captain's hand.
The cat-boy made a small noise of complaint when he caught on to her response. "I'm to take you to your dining room, Miss Harker," he announced as though she should be impressed with the responsibility, his chin up and hands on his hips.
The Captain looked down at him, expressionless as always, and the teenager laughed nervously. "Er, we will…" His feline ears twitched.
You mean 'he.' You just tagged along to talk.
"O-okay, okay, let's go!" The Hitler Youth stiffly turned away and took a couple of steps before sheepishly glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was following.
The heavy door that served as the only entrance and exit was tightly shut after Amelia sat down at the small table. Aside from the folding chair and table, the room was empty of furniture or decoration. The wall she was facing had a long one-way mirror, giving her the impression of an interrogation room. Doc was by the door, clipboard in hand, while the Captain stood a few meters in front of him like a guard.
Amelia looked at the meal set out on the table: steak, potatoes, and peas. There was also a glass of what might have been wine.
After a minute of staring at it, the doctor spoke up. "You should eat, Miss Harker. Your iron's a little low, and you need to replenish your energy for the days ahead."
She gave a hesitant nod. "It's just that the drink…" Her sentence faded into silence and she pointed towards the glass of liquid.
"What about it?" He pulled out a pen from his pocket and began writing on the clipboard.
"Is it alcohol?" She had drunk very little over the years; not because she didn't like it, but because her father refused to touch it. He never tell her why, and his avoidance suggested that there was a dark history between the two.
Doc let out an absent-minded chuckle. "No." He smiled, removing his attention from the clipboard to watch her.
Feeling awkward under the men's unwavering observation, Amelia refused to look up as she began to eat. Half-way through the meal, Schrödinger, who must have grown bored with the lack of conversation, was kicked out for making loud chewing noises.
When her plate was almost empty, she picked up the glass, trying to discern the identity of the liquid within. Doc said it was not alcohol, but she was reluctant to trust him after the little smile he had given her. Putting the glass to her lips, she sniffed; it smelled strange. Steeling her nerves, she took a sip. The beverage tasted neither bad nor good, but she decided that she did not like it.
She glanced at the doctor when he leaned forward slightly, still watching.
Something's definitely in here. The urge to put down the drink and not touch it again was strong, but she had a feeling that she would not be let out of the room without finishing it. She took a few reluctant larger gulps, careful to keep her expression as calm as she could manage. Picking at the remainder of her meal, she looked at Doc, who had finally turned his attention away from her and to his clipboard again. Her relief was short-lived when he stopped writing and returned to observing her a minute later.
Having nothing to do, Amelia sat still, eying the empty plate on the table to avoid any sort of interaction with the other occupants of the room.
For twenty more minutes she did not move, lost in nervous thought while waiting for something to happen. Am I going to die? Did they poison me? No, no, the Major said they are going to use me. They can't kill me if they want to use me for – what was it – creating monsters…? Supposing my grandmother was the Mina Harker from the story, what would that make me? They can't think that makes me a vampire? Vampires are created, not born. I look human. I sleep in a bed at night. I like sunny weather And most importantly, I hate blood.
She stiffened suddenly, stealing a glance at the empty glass. Blood. Was that blood? She repressed a shudder and swallowed heavily. It didn't taste like it. Maybe there –
"That's all for now, Miss Harker." Doc interrupted her rambling thoughts, stowing his pen away in a blood-splattered pocket. "You may go back to your room now." He paused, muttering something that she didn't catch before exiting the room and leaving her alone with the Captain.
Amelia stood up and winced as the legs of her chair scraped across the floor, piercing the quiet. She looked at the Captain. He had not spoken once since their first meeting – or coughed, sneezed, or made any other noises. In the silence, every movement she made sounded unbearably loud. Tip-toeing to his side, she waited for him to lead the way back to the lab.
When he didn't move she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wondering what was wrong. The Captain was looking down at her, and when she eventually came to meet his gaze, he tilted his head towards the open door.
Amelia was the first to break eye contact, softly stepping through the doorway. It's different. Coming from her room, she had trailed behind Schrödinger and the Captain. Now I'm in front, being watched. What was that drink supposed to do? What if it hasn't taken effect yet?
The first three turns she remembered, but following those, she found herself relying on the light tap on her left or right shoulder. The signage, almost exclusively in German, didn't help either.
When they made it back to the lab entrance, Amelia noticed that the Captain did not prevent her from watching him enter the security code. He knew she was not going to leave the lab on her own – at least, not yet.
Having been returned to the intended destination, Amelia waited for the presence at her back to disappear.
It did not move.
Goosebumps breaking out over her bare arms, she took a few steps away.
The Captain did not follow.
Why isn't he leaving? She didn't like the idea of being in the same room with such a physically intimidating person. For a second, the thought of the strange teenager appearing didn't seem like such a bad thing. Unconsciously she pressed a hand to her stomach, where, underneath the layers of clothing, a large bruise darkened her skin.
After standing in silence for some time, she retreated to her room. There was a chance that the Captain would depart if she was in the private space.
As quietly as possible, she approached the small dresser by the bed, all the while listening for footsteps behind the curtain wall. The drawers were full of neatly folded clothing, all of the same fashion she was currently wearing. Pulling on a pair of socks over her cold feet, she closed the drawers and sat with her back against the side of the bed, listening.
Is he gone? She wondered, staring at the curtain across from her. For what felt like a long while she sat, summoning the resolve to check. Her steps muffled by socks, she felt a little more stealthy as she went to the curtain. Pulling the green fabric aside by a fraction of an inch, she peered out. The lab seemed empty, the Captain no longer in the spot where had she left him.
Remaining cautious, she moved the curtain aside further, sticking her head and neck out to widen her scope of vision. With a sharp inhalation, she promptly yanked the curtain back in place and moved away, heart pounding. The Captain was standing less than a meter from the opposite side of the doorframe. He hadn't looked her way, but there was no doubt that he had seen her.
I am not staying in this room any longer. She could sense her panic rising as the feeling of being cornered closed in, her heartbeat refusing to slow and limbs tingling with nervous energy. Doc said I could go out if I really wanted to… I'll stand out in the lab. I'll look at one of those anatomy charts. I'll look at one of those bookshelves. Just not in this room, with a man… Rubbing her eyes, she let out an unsteady breath. That won't. Happen. Stay. Calm. Repeating the thought, she removed her hands from her face and balled them into fists at her sides.
No one has tried to do anything of that sort. If anything, they're preventing that from happening – they've kept me away from the soldiers. The next breath was more controlled. I'll just walk out. Now. She let out a couple more deep breaths before pulling the curtain aside again and stepping into the lab. The Captain was still on the other side of the doorframe, his eyes following her as she headed for one of the doctor's bookshelves.
Reading the spines, she pulled out a large book on Genetics; it was the only book in English on this shelf, and unlike several others, looked like it would not fall apart if touched. Book in hand, she sat down on the spot and flipped to the first page.
"Nothing."
The Major nodded, his smile still in place, seemingly unfazed by the report.
On the screen, the doctor crossed his arms, a disappointed frown on his face. "I took a small sample from Miss Harker about an hour ago and there's no change; not that I wholeheartedly believed in the results of the first experiment. It wasn't enough for me to give her the blood of an altered soldier. The method of transfer is too indirect…" Doc let out an exasperated sigh, trying to sum up everything in nonscientific terms. "If I perform a transfusion, it must be between She and Amelia."
"And you will use the last of She's blood in doing so."
"I have one more experiment in mind, before it comes to that." The doctor said, his tone conveying both uncertainty and hope. "But it should be said that there is also very little chance that it will work. Perhaps, even a smaller chance than this first experiment."
The Major folded his hands on the table, staring at the screen with interest.
"I am thinking of having her take part in an event that will produce a fight-or-flight response – a physical reaction or mental state strong enough to make that cursed blood of hers stir. I want her to experience a potentially life-threatening encounter." The Major's grin had widened so much that Doc paused, waiting for him to laugh.
When a few seconds passed with no such reaction, the man cleared his throat and continued. "Yes, life-threatening… Of course, I have no intention of actually killing her. She is too valuable right now. I'm going to hold off on beginning the experiment for another few days; I want to make sure that Miss Harker does not show a delayed onset of – symptoms – before moving on."
"I have confidence in your abilities, Doctor. This experiment of yours should be, if not successful, quite entertaining!"
"Yes, I thought you'd say that," muttered Doc, biting the inside of his cheek.