Twisted Fates —A Hellsing Fanfiction

Chapter One: Let the Games Begin


From the hidden diaries of Anjali Hellsing

I first started to write this, my child, in hopes that one day you may read it and understand the choices I had made. I want to begin, like many stories, where it all started. It was the night I discovered that vampires, those demons from hell, do in fact exist in our world.


Present Day, 1999

Father Enrico Maxwell did not arrive to his position without relying on the information provided to him by various sources. Throughout the years since becoming the head of the Iscariot Organization, he had made decisions based on both the presented facts and his intuitive knowledge of the human mind. And so when Father Ronaldo had suggested they send Anderson to Ireland, he had agreed mostly because he had thought that it was time for the Regenerator to make his presence known to their fellow vampire-hunters, the Hellsing Organization.

When he learned, however, that Hellsing had also sent their somewhat secret weapon to Ireland, he began to start thinking more like the politician that he was rather than the exterminator role that he played. At this time and in his position, he couldn't quite risk having Anderson blatantly violate several treaties in his fervor to kill the Hellsing vampire. That little delight was something he would have to save for another day, when all the pieces were in place. And so, given this present predicament, he really had no choice but to contact his sister.

Hearing the commotion outside his office door, he knew what sight he would be presented with next when the door to his office opened abruptly. There, in all her furious glory, stood his "adopted" sister, looking quite ready to thrash him.

"What is so important that you called me away from an ongoing investigation?" she demanded, her hands flat on his desk.

He grinned. Integra in a roaring temper was something he never got tired of seeing even from when she was a young girl. "Tsk, tsk, Integra," he teased. "When are you going to learn how to knock?"

He almost laughed in delight at the way her eyes would glare at him in frustration.

"'Rico," she began, ignoring his title as she was wont to do when they were alone, "so help me if this is one of your superiority stunts, you are going to be so sorry--"

"Now, now, Integra," he smiled, "I would not have dragged you away from your duties for something so juvenile."

She snorted disbelievingly and looked down on him from her standing position.

And not for the first time, he lamented the fact that Integra was born a woman in the patriarchal Catholic Church. As useful as she was in the field—she was, after all, an excellent marksman and swordsman—he firmly believed that she could have accomplished much for the Organization had she been in a position of more power. It was unfortunate that due to her gender, her role in the hierarchy was relegated to the shadows.

"As a matter of fact," he paused, wondering if there was any way to handle the matter delicately, "I was wondering if you could fetch Father Anderson back for me." In the end, he opted for the direct approach.

"Fetch Alex?" she exclaimed, forgetting herself. It was rare that she called that priest by his given name when in the company of anyone else but that priest himself. "You're talking about Father Alexander Anderson, correct? You know…big guy with lots of bayonets? Can regenerate at will? That Father Anderson?" Her twinkling eyes told him that she thought the whole thing a joke.

"Perhaps I should explain further," he attempted to get through to her. "When Father Ronaldo and I sent Father Anderson to Ireland, I was not aware that Hellsing would be sending their pet vampire there as well."

"Pet vampire?" she echoed. She gave him a second look. "Wait," she said slowly, "you are serious?"

He nodded. "I would not joke about Hellsing's vampire and Anderson, Integra. It's not quite the laughing matter."

He watched intently as she began to pace the floor, muttering to herself. "Are you sure about this?" she asked. "I've heard of rumors about the Hellsing Organization's secret weapon, of course, but I don't believe anyone has confirmed its existence for over half a century."

"Oh, the vampire's real enough," he stated. "Granted we haven't gotten any solid reports about him this past half century; however, the rise in midian activities globally may have contributed to more reliable sightings this time."

He watched her cringe as a look of disgust settled on her features.

"Yes, it's true that our English counterparts have resorted to allying themselves with the undead," he relished in informing her. "I must say, they have been quite effective. They've been able to hush up of most vampire activities from the public and, if I were a betting man, I would venture to guess that the vampire of theirs is one of the reasons they are so successful."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"We can talk more about this later," he pressed. "Right now, Integra, I need you to be the voice of reason for Anderson."

"So you would like me to fetch Father Alex back from Ireland prematurely?" she verified.

"Oh it won't be premature, Integra," he chided. "By the time you get there almost—" he glanced at the clock, "an hour behind him at this rate, he would have disposed of the ghoul-making vampire already, as you well know. However, I'm afraid that the presence of Hellsing's pet may prove to be too much for him to resist. I don't want…an international incident."

She looked at him closely. "Is that the real reason you are sending me out there?" she asked in all seriousness. "Is there something I should know before I enter into the fray?"

"Just this," Enrico began, "besides Anderson himself, only you and I can stop him when he sets his mind to it. With the Hellsing vampire as powerful as I think he might be, can you imagine Anderson stopping without any collateral damage?"

She took a deep breath. "Is this vampire that powerful that he would give Father Alex any trouble?"

"That, you'll have to find out for yourself and report to me, Integra," he stated. "I'm counting on you."

With a nod of assent, Integra turned to leave.

"And one more thing," Enrico stopped her.

She turned back and looked at him inquiringly.

"I am damn sure that Hellsing knows about Anderson," he stated. "To what extent, that I am uncertain of. But Integra, I am sure they know nothing about you."

"Me?" she repeated, and smiled. "There is nothing to know about me."

He frowned. "And I'd like to keep it that way. Stay out of sight, if you can. And if you can't, limit your role in the fray. Remember that you are NOT a regenerator. If that vampire takes a swipe at you, not only would you be dead, but I have a feeling that Anderson is going to get a little testy at the thought of his student being killed by a vampire."

She laughed. "If that's your roundabout way of telling me to be careful," she teased, "you're doing a horrible job of it."

"Just go," he ordered, giving a sigh as he heard her laughter floating down the hall.


"If I might ask, Sir, why send both Alucard and the police girl to Baidrick?" Walter inquired. "Seems like a routine vampire and ghoul incident. Sending one of them, yes, but both?"

He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the conversation at hand while finalizing some of the reports. Lately, just doing that much was becoming quite an effort. "The police girl needs training," he finally replied.

"Oh?"

"If she's going to be any use to us," he said reasonably, "we need to have Alucard teach her how to not only be a servant of Hellsing, but a vampire at that."

"I understand," said Walter.

"She's too squeamish right now," Arthur observed. "I'm not sure I understand Alucard's decision to turn her, but she needs to learn to adjust to her situation. I was hoping that being with Alucard on more missions might help her."

"Sir Hellsing!" they were interrupted, as the door to his office burst open.

Arthur looked up from the papers he had been reading.

"We have just received confirmation that the Vatican's Section XIII has made a move," his messenger informed him.

He leaned forward against his desk and rested his chin upon his intertwined fingers. "So, the Iscariot has finally decided to show themselves," he commented to Walter at his side. "Tell me," he instructed the messenger, "how big of a force did they send?"

"They…they only dispatched one man, Sir," he replied.

"Oh," he inquired, curious. "One man you say?"

"Yes, sir. A priest. Paladin Alexander Anderson."

He stood up abruptly. Paladin Alexander Anderson? "Father Alexander Anderson?" he repeated. Bayonet Anderson? Angel Dust Anderson? He looked at Walter, his mind running through a hundred scenarios, none of them ending well. "Damn it! Can you imagine what will happen if he comes across Alucard and the girl?"

"Hmm…one can only guess," replied Walter in his usual reserved manner. "Should I send you with an escort?"

He nodded. "Prepare my guns, swords, and two guards," he added. "It seems that I'll be going to Baidrick as well."

"Of course," said Walter.

"I'm sorry to leave the negotiations with the Vatican to you, Walter," he stated. "I'm sure you can handle them with your usual aplomb."

"Yes, sir," he replied.

As Arthur began to make his way to the helicopter waiting to take him to Baidrick, his mind started to list the many nicknames the esteemed Vatican priest had under his belt. From all the rumors and reports he had heard, Alexander Anderson was to the Iscariot as Alucard was to Hellsing. He is a warrior who specializes in fighting monsters.

And there was no way that that monster-killing paladin won't attack Alucard or the girl if he runs into them. He just hoped he arrives in time.


"Father Enrico Maxwell," Walter greeted over the phone. "It seems we've had a slight miscommunication."

It seems you have crossed your boundaries yet again.

"Yes," the priest replied. "It would seem so."

A small delay in the information, nothing more.

"We ask that you please call off your…man from the scene," Walter requested politely. "As you may not know, the incident is under control. There is no need for your…help."

Get your dog off our premises.

"I quite understand, Mr. Dornez. And be assured, that I, myself, have sent someone to smooth things over in the event of another disagreement."

I'm quite aware of what needs to be done.

"Father Maxwell," pressed Walter, "our wish was for you to take your man away, not to send another one in his place."

In fact, send all your dogs home.

"You misunderstand," Maxwell attempted to clarify, "the one I sent speaks directly for me. Without her, I'm afraid you and I may be faced with a greater problem than just this small incident."

It's taken care of.

"Her?" he asked surprised.

A woman?

"Yes, the Vatican does have in its employ several of the fairer sex," he chided.

None of your damned business.

"I'm sure they do," Walter replied for lack of anything else to say.

That's a new one.

"As I was saying, you need not worry over this little incident," the priest assured him. "It will be taken care of soon."

I'll handle it.

"I'm afraid I cannot quite put as much trust in your envoy as you apparently do," he stated. "However, I will hope for the best. Again, I would ask if you could please refrain from sending any help until we ask for it."

And keep away from our premises.

"Of course," he answered. "I shall take care not to step on any toes next time."

I'll make sure not to get caught next time.

"See that you don't," he replied gently.

Walter placed the phone gently down on top of the receiver. There were days and nights when he firmly believes that mind-reading was part of the job.

While he wasn't especially fond of the more politically-inclined roles he's had to play over the years for the Hellsing Organization, he would have to admit that there were times when the parry of words could almost (but not quite) be as satisfying as taking on a field of ghouls. Conversations with the Vatican, however, oftentimes leave him feeling quite thankful that the directorship of Hellsing fell on his comrade's shoulders and not his.

Thinking back to his talk with Father Maxwell, his brain began to pick at the one thing that intrigued him.

The one I sent speaks directly for me.

Strange. Based on the intelligence reports Arthur receives regarding Section XIII, he would have thought that he knew most of the players in that organization. Yes, there were a couple of notable Sisters, but none that he would have pictured as Maxwell's envoy for this particular debacle. Curiosity peaked, he headed over to his quarters to begin another fact-finding venture.