Thank you to KuroNeko513 and fandelivres for the reviews! And a thank you to everyone who added this story to their alert/favorite list, or has silently been keeping up with it (I'm sure the majority of us do this XD)!
Please read, review, and enjoy! : )
I do not own Hellsing.
Amelia coughed, a strange sensation tickling uncomfortably at the back of her throat. It hurts. Why does it hurt to breathe? Her eyes stung when she opened them, and even after blinking and wiping at them, she had to squint to see clearly.
On her hands and knees, she stared at the grass beneath her, watching gold and orange light dance over it. A fire. She could feel its warmth at her back, not burning, but still too close for comfort. A breeze swept Amelia's way as she looked over her shoulder, bringing with it a cloud of ash and a coughing fit.
The trees behind her were on fire, their sturdy trunks turning black as the flames licked at them. Dark plumes of smoke rose into the sky above the wall of fire, blotting out stars in the night sky. As Amelia watched, some of the nearby brush flickered to life, creeping closer to her.
If any trees were to fall this way… It would be best to get away from the fire and smoke.
Amelia slowly rose to her feet, tearing her gaze away from the entrancing light. There was a draft between her legs. This white gown again, she observed in annoyance, tugging at the clothing.
Stumbling forward several steps in a crouched walk, she paused to frown at the dark stain on the lower half of the gown's front, the wet fabric sticking to her knees. Her eyes watering, she bent down further, wiping at the colors splashed on her shins and the tops of her feet. Ugh. Was I in a mud hole? She shook her head to clear it. Her clothes could wait; the fire was more important.
Amelia coughed, the next inhalation carrying a sickening stench. Gagging, she put a hand to her nose and mouth, only for the smell to grow stronger. Stepping farther away from the fire and towards the darkness, she felt her foot catch on something.
After some ungraceful flailing to maintain her balance, she squinted to see what had snagged her foot: it was an arm.
Amelia pulled away, her heart beat accelerating from the find. A man in strange clothing lay in the grass to her right, the firelight illuminating his dark and bearded complexion. Unseeing eyes stared up at the sky as one hand gripping tightly to the ripped and glistening fabric around his stomach, the arm she had caught her foot on bent at an unnatural angle.
Who is...? Oh my God. Backing away from the corpse, Amelia felt her right leg connect with something solid, and this time she did fall backwards. Bile rose in her throat as she found herself staring at the saddled flank of a horse, its joints stiff with rigor mortis.
What's going on? Amelia rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself to her knees, only to vomit seconds later as the stench finally overpowered her senses. Groaning in disgust, she wiped at her mouth. This has to be a dream. I was in my room not five minutes ago!
Amelia turned away from the bodies, trying to ignore them as she looked to the fire, wary of its growth. The wind had died down, and now that her sight was clearing, she could make out shapes in front of the burning forest. Putting distance between her and the danger, she had kept her eyes on the ground in front of her, but now she saw what her eyes had missed. What looked like a large stone at first glance was a decapitated human head; two humanoid bodies were surrounded by several amputated limbs – not all of them human; some figures she could not even recognize as human or animal.
It's not real. It's just a dream. Amelia stared at the carnage, breathless.
"Just a dream." Tears blurred her vision as she began to shake, holding back a sob. "So just wake up now…"
Amelia lifted her hands to her eyes, intending to shield them from the horrible sight, but stopped short when she saw the dark liquid that she had been rubbing from her legs smeared on her palms. Her hands made fists and she shut her eyes, but the crackling of the fire and stench of blood did not leave her. Unable to stand what her senses perceived, she covered her ears, keeping her eyes shut tightly as she shook her head back and forth.
"Stop it! Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Amelia screamed, just as she felt the ground beneath her disappear. She felt herself fall, but as she opened her eyes the sensation left. Sitting in semidarkness, light spilled in through the doorway on the opposite side of the room. The fire was gone, along with the stench; the only sound her ragged breathing.
Something moved beside her, and Amelia turned towards the source of the light, gasping and instinctively lashing out in defense when she saw the shadowy figure at her bedside.
The figure leaned back to dodge her arm, but Amelia's hand hit something and sent it toppling to the floor. Faster than she expected, the figure snatched her raised arm. "Wha –?" Her eyes began to adjust and she stopped struggling.
The Captain lowered her arm but did not let go, analyzing her expression. Amelia lifted her free arm into the light, inspecting her palm. It was clean.
A shadow darkened the doorway. "What is it, Captain?" The man beside her looked back, giving a small shake of his head, and the doctor departed.
Amelia felt something slide down her cheek and into the corner of her mouth, leaving a salty taste. I'm crying? She quickly turned away from the Captain, rubbing the tears from her face.
"I-I'm okay," she spoke loudly, hoping the volume would make her sound assertive. The Captain's grip loosened, but his attention remained on her.
It was just a dream, Amelia tried to assure herself, shuddering at the memory of the man with the lifeless eyes. Only a nightmare. When the Captain's hand left her arm, she brought her hands into her lap, clasping them tightly as they trembled.
Bad dreams were not an unusual occurrence, and so she should be able to deal with this one the same as any other. But it bothered her how real the experience had seemed, how all of her senses, not just sight, were functioning in the dream: throat and eyes burning before knowing there was a fire, the offensive stench of the gore that her eyes had mistaken for mud. Was it natural to be certain that she had felt, smelled, and heard everything in a dream, rather than doubt it?
Amelia stared at her hands without seeing them, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as her mind replayed the dream. It was only when a light pressure came down on her hands that she blinked, broken out of the trance.
A gloved hand had settled over hers, lessening their trembling but causing her face to heat up. She was not accustomed to being on the receiving end of such an action – especially when the other person was of the opposite sex.
Amelia withheld the urge to fidget or pull her hands away, keeping her mouth firmly shut to avoid letting escape the nervous ramblings that flittered through her mind.
A glance at the Captain showed that he considered nothing awkward or embarrassing about the gesture. He did not squeeze her hands, try to hold them, or pry them apart; just kept one hand sitting on hers.
After about a minute, he pulled away.
Amelia's hands had stopped shaking, but she was too self-conscious to look at him again. Unable to get her thoughts in order to give him any word of thanks, Amelia nodded at him and lay back in the bed, pulling the covers over her.
The Captain watched her for a few seconds more, and Amelia imagined he was trying to determine what was going on in her head.
When he suddenly leaned towards her she stiffened, noticing how close his face came to hers, though his eyes were downcast. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she held her breath, not releasing it until the Captain had straightened, replacing the cap she had knocked to the floor on his head.
Shutting her eyes, Amelia curled up into a ball, waiting for the sound of the door to close behind the Captain. As she brought her arms against her chest, she felt the vibrations of her heart as it thudded beneath her rib cage.
What was that? Asked a voice, anxious and flustered by her reaction as it repeated the question. What was that?
An hour would pass before Amelia was able to settle down into a dreamless sleep.
Red eyes darted left and right, analyzing each face that passed in the hall.
High-pitched laughter came from two female concubines while they pulled at the sleeves of a drunken official, begging him to keep them company for the evening. On the opposite side of the hall, a young solemn-faced boy kept close to the wall as he carried a platter of food, his skinny arms quivering beneath its weight.
"Not here," Alucard growled as shadows pooled around his feet, flowing down the hall and up the walls to eat away the scenery and color until the vampire was left in darkness.
He would rather forget all the faces and people he passed, but to do so would be to deny the power he had craved in earlier days, to deny what he had done to gain such power.
After sacrificing others, turning his back on humanity, and committing atrocities to give purpose to his existence, he had power. And it was not enough. Now he found himself searching for more – looking for a greater strength in another person. There had been a time when he thought that he had met the human who would put an end to his search. He was defeated, a stake buried in his chest, everything taken from him, and yet...
Alucard opened his eyes to the real world.
There was a single knock on the basement door before it opened and Integra entered the room.
…And yet, his death had been denied. Abraham Van Helsing was the person he had been searching for, had the power to best him in what he thought would be his final battle. But here he was, still attached to the world, forced into a life of servitude. The greater power had been there, but it was not the defeat he had longed for. If death was not the fate of those with less power, then what should he instead search for?
"The sun has started to rise," Integra stated with a hint of disappointment, "and you haven't given me any word. I assume this means you've made no progress in finding Amelia?"
"There are thousands of souls and familiars within me, existing in battlefields, cities, palaces, and rooms that I have created from my memories. Can you imagine maintaining an entire world inside you, for the purpose of housing the damned and tainted?"
"No, I cannot," Integra deadpanned.
Observing his master's no-nonsense air, the vampire continued. "No, I have not found her. It might take weeks, or months, before I do."
Integra frowned at the revelation. She could wait a week for results, but a month was unacceptable.
Alucard chuckled at her expression. "Being a descendant could make it more difficult to locate her." Integra bit her lower lip, keeping her temper in check when the vampire's grin widened. "It was her grandmother's blood that I drank, not hers. That girl does not belong in here." Alucard tapped a finger against the side of his head.
"If you have her soul, then why not summon her as you do your other familiars?"
"You misunderstand." Alucard's tone lost some of its mirth. "Her soul is not within me. The reason I cannot summon the girl is because I have not consumed her soul, because she is alive; not as a vampire, a ghoul, or a corpse. It is mortality that separates her from me."
Integra nodded slowly, crossing her arms. "I am aware of her condition; but how does it explain her appearance?"
"Our meeting might have been a fluke. Or she could be walking through my realms as we speak. Having even a few drops of my blood should be enough to establish a link of some sort between us, even if it is not stable." He gave an indifferent shrug of his shoulders, growing bored of their conversation. If the sun was up as Integra had said, then it was time to retire. His eyes flickered in the direction of his coffin, the glance not going unseen by Integra, who scowled.
"Rest now, if you wish. You will continue searching when night falls."
"As you command, my Master." Alucard dipped his head, watching Integra's retreating back.