Book Dragon:
"Okay. I've been debating posting this for about…three weeks? I wrote the whole thing at the end of July. It took me a week and I was tweaking it here and there for the last couple of days. I wrote this while reading another fanfic The Way to Raise an Heir by DuchessRaven (Awesome fic, I suggest you read it) and waiting for it to update.
"Pretty soon I got to my own musings on the future of Hellsing and could not get this scene out of my head. So I wrote it down and things just kept coming and I ended up with this. I wonder about Integra, in the beginning as a child and how life would've changed after Alucard woke up. Unfortunately, this twisted away out of that view, I'm afraid, so I'll have to keep musing and hopefully, maybe, I'll find it in me to make up a beginning story for Integra and Alucard.
"For now, all I have is this little thing I wrote for pleasure (something probably done a thousand times. Sigh.) I really hope to get some criticism on this piece because I'd like to know how I can get better. If it means I get bashed…well, then I get bashed for the better. Please tell me what you think. I don't own Hellsing at all."
The Black Sheep of the Family
It was pitch black.
It stayed unyielding despite how much she blinked her eyes. The smooth walls were ice cold, as cold as the floor and the dust that brushed up beneath her toes. A few cobwebs could be felt, and once a number of spiders called over the backs of her hands. There was no telling how many. There was no scream at this horrific surprise, but she did shake for a time afterwards. How long exactly? There was no telling because no sun light could pierce this room. Hours or minutes could've passed since she'd been locked in here.
It was ironic. For all the times she had come in the night and stared at the wooden old basement door, with all its stars and circles etched in black. All the sleepless evenings (after waking to the odd billion red eye dreams, not frightening, but not peacefully either) it would leave her wide awake.
So, those were the nights where she padded down her with nothing put a big shirt and her underwear. Down all those windings steps, her feet echoing despite her best intentions and being barefoot she's creep. All ways to that door, the door to this room, she'd come and stare at it for unknown minutes or hours before turning back and going to bed. For all that time, and what was it? Four years now? She started when she was nine, at least.
All that time she never imagined what was passed it.
She sat in the corner of the room, scraped up knees pulled up and her arms around them, her head in her lap and fighting off the sniffles. There was no crying. A Hellsing never cried. Never in a thousand years. No matter if you were on the brink of death, a Hellsing never cried in the face of fear. EVER.
But knowing didn't help much.
She closed her eyes and started counting in her head very slowly.
1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…
Her legs and arms relaxed a bit, and despite the old moldy smell she felt calmer. If she didn't keep her mind occupied, there were more than enough demons for her imagination to sling at her. Thinking about this didn't help, because she felt something trying to crawl up. A little flickering image of something dark and heavy moving, eyes bright yellow and breath rank and sticky like-
What are you doing here Lorian Integra Michaela Hellsing?
I don't know. Gab shoved me down the stairs.
Who's Gab, Lori?
He's my brother…
Gabriel Timothy Mark Hellsing. He was older by a year and a half. He looked the most like a Hellsing should. Short blonde hair and hard unflinching blue eyes, tall and not fat. Not lanky either. Enough fencing practices kept him in shape. He wasn't a jock. He learned to read when he was four and his constant tutoring nurtured and made his mind like a steel trap. He had a bright and prefect smile and all the self confidence a person needed.
But sometimes he could be smug and pushy.
Why did he lock you in here, Lori?
T-to teach me a lesson.
The deepest part of the basement was forbidden. Lorian had found the place when she was five, and after father had found out she was briskly spanked hard enough not to be able to sit for an hour and told never to come there again. The punishment worked for a while, but Lori found the place again when she was seven. Wiser, she told no one, and felt guilty for some time, but never really stopped coming.
And no one knew about it till tonight.
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"Dad said not to come here."
Lori whirled around, eyes wide and found Gab's tall and looming form directly behind her. He stared at her coldly and almost tiredly, standing in his pajamas. She watched him cross his arms over his chest and looked down at her waiting.
"I-I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Don't tell Dad and Mum."
"You've come down here twice already this month, even though you know it is forbidden."
Lori winced but stared at her brother fearfully. He said nothing, just continued to look at her until she hung her head in defeat. She started to edge by him, warily, but when he raised his hand and stopped her, she heard the jingling. Her eyes rose slightly.
And between his fingers he held a black key.
"Are you curious as to what is in there, younger sister?"
Lori looked up at him with a chaos of emotions. Fear, hope, and curiosity were the three that ruled the most.
"Y-you'd open it?" Gab looked down at her and gave a small and reassuring smile.
"Of course, baby sister. I was curious as to its contents as well. Dad said there was a legacy from our family hidden here. Something special. I'd like to see what it is as well. It will be our little secret. Here, I'll even let you open it."
Gab held out the key, smiling peacefully.
It was all the bait Lori needed. She took it with timid yet excited fingers, smiling in utter joy as she rounded onto the door and found the lock. She shoved the key and turned it, all with trembling fingers, grinning ear to ear. It was a moment of complete and utter joy, the first she felt since she had turned eight and all the childhood seemed to flow out of everything like a disgusting ooze.
"Thank you, brother."
He chuckled and ruffled her hair. She felt pleasure at being touched by him. He never touched her or paid any attention to her. It was strange he was suddenly being so nice, but not strange enough to make any alarm bells go off in her head. His smile was too warm and welcoming.
"Don't mention it, Lori." He said pleasantly enough.
Lori smiled and pulled the door open. She didn't realize she left the key in the lock. It didn't matter at the moment. They were going to take a peek inside and go back to bed. The door creaked in a moan from the lack of oil in its hinges as it opened. The doorway and beyond was in utter blackness and nothing could be seen.
She'd been taken by the moment. She stepped forward, wildly curious, and noted the stairs going down, but that was all she could see. The smell was ancient. That's the only description she could come up with. The girl reached in and patted the insides of the walls, looking for a light switch, and then giggled at her own silliness. Why would there be a light switch?
"Hey, Gab, do you have a flash light-?"
She was shoved hard in the back.
Before Lori even knew what was happening she fell down the stairs, scrapping her knees, her elbows, and her outstretched hands that tried to save her from the fall. The scream she meant for the air lodged into her throat. A moan came instead when she felt the dusty cold floor pressed beneath her cheek.
The door slammed and something clunked.
Disorientated, she stood up groggily and could barely understand the words Gab were saying behind the door. They were muffled. After, sitting alone in the dark, she'd pick them out and put exactly what he said together.
"I was curious, Lorian, but I never broke the rules. There's nothing in there anyway. Dad showed me. If you were curious, you should've asked, but now that you haven't, you must be punished. This will help build a little character, little sister. Hopefully you'll stop being so damn timid. I'll come for you when the morning arrives, by then I'm sure you'll have learned, even if you are slow."
He did not chuckle as she heard him pull the key out of the door in a scrape.
"And remember, this is our little secret, so no tattle-tailing."
And he walked away.
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Lori hadn't bothered to scream. If she had screamed or pleaded in anyway, she would've been left here longer. What if she told on him? She'd be punished for either tattle tailing or lying. If the first came, then Gab would find more elaborate means to punish her.
So the girl had just sighed in the dark and waited.
She had been pawing the walls, to look for a corner to prop her back against, not to explore. There was no point in exploring in the dark. Gab said there was nothing in here. Gab was never wrong about anything before, so she took his word and sat, alone, and trying not to cry. Instead, she managed to fall asleep.
And woke to something moving in the dark.
At first she thought it was her imagination torturing her again. Too many horror books she'd let her mind wander through and now it was vomiting back the results. Another punishment. So she sat shock still and tried to ignore it.
When it just kept coming, she started shaking uncontrollably, her mind whispering of all the scary monster things. All those teeth and claws. All the blood that was throbbing through her body. Her legs tensed and she was panting in absolute fear, unable to help herself. When she finally lost control she crawled up the walls and tried to run back to the direction of the door. What she got was something blocking her foot, disturbing her run, and her nose making a noise that sounded oh so close to the crushing of bone as she slammed into a wall.
Dazed again, warm wetness seeped down her closed mouth from that throbbing appendage. She grabbed it with trembling fingers. Sore, but thankfully not broken. Someone must still love her somewhere in the great upstairs. Still, it wasn't nice to find you have a nose bleed.
Lori tilted her head back to try and stop the blood flowing, aware the movements had been her over active imagination because she couldn't hear anything now. Of course, it could've stopped moving, but that was absurd. If something was really in here, some kind of monster, it surely would've taken her down, now that her nose was bleeding and blood was in the air.
Right?
She tried not to think about it.
What she did concentrate on was that something that she had just tripped over and tried not to connect the both of them. So nose still pointed to the sky, she started forward a bit and felt about like a blind woman, or someone who'd dropped their glasses, pinching her nostrils closed with one hand and feeling with the other.
No time existed. Just wondering thought.
Finally her fingers brushed against something. She went back and found it. Smooth. Brushed over it wonderingly and forgot about her nose bleed a moment. Blinked her unseeing eyes and used both hands to feel over it. Wiped her hands on her shirt, one at a time as not to loose it, and poked around. Lowered her face and smelled, despite her nose.
Leather.
It was round and thick. Smooth and smelled like leather. Her hands fluttered to a flatter part, something with ridges and things before she understood. For once she was grateful for her tactile nature.
It was some kind of shoe. Her fingers brushed over metal and free pieces. Straps? A boot. A boot lying at an unnatural angle; pointing towards the ceiling. She kept feeling, traveling up, and found not only the end of the boot, but something else. Cloth. Cloth and something solid beneath it.
Oh my God, is it a body?
The urge to fling her hands away and scream was crushed by sudden weighing adult logic.
No, I would've smelled the rot…
True. So what the hell was it? Some kind of manikin? It wasn't warm, but cold to the touch
-Like a dead corpse-
But it definitely wasn't rotting or anything, so it wasn't. Maybe some kind of weird suit of armor? It didn't make much sense. She kept touching, her eyebrows bunching together with curiosity and confusion. A harp-player would've been jealous at her nimble finger movements. Her mind wouldn't stop with the body analogies. Lower leg, upper leg, thigh, waist, chest, neck-
She was feeling for the place her mind said 'face' when it grabbed her.
Cold fingers curled with crushing weight down onto her wrist.
The shriek lodged in her throat and would not come out as she tried to pull away, even as stomach turning fear rose in her like a bonfire. Didn't so much as budge. Her eyes widened when she realized she was trapped. The spit in her mouth was gone, making it a dry desert. All feeling in her body jumped up stronger, ready for more crushing touch, and pain and agony.
A small torrent of air tinkled her fingers, before they disappeared into an equally cold and wet place. Sucked in breathe at a hiss and whimpered, but still couldn't scream. Slimy and cold, some kind of tentacle curled and felt around each finger, leaving a slime trail. Sharp points touched the part of her fingers closest to her palm as that long wet thing prodded and brushed.
Her mind refused to shut up.
Your fingers are in a fanged mouth.
The breeze was an exhale. The tentacle was actually a tongue; she could suddenly feel the bumps that were taste buds. The slight pointed pressure was knife-like teeth resting lightly on her skin. All of her body went numb except those four fingers, currently lodged in that cold and wet place and being moved as the tongue licked.
Then she started shaking uncontrollably.
An eternity later of waiting for those digits to be bitten off, her fingers left the wet place, goo leaving long strains between them. She was ready for sharp pain to hit her face, not the little wind that brushed her face and tickled her nose. Frozen stiff, she didn't move. Just stared wide-eyed into the darkness and waited for herself to faint because her heart was beating hard enough to hurt.
A thumb pressed and wiped her upper lip.
It disappeared for a second, and then returned in another, wiped again, except smearing with cold wet liquid. She leaned her face away again and tried to recoil, but the sudden powerful grasp of her wrist increased, sending a flare of pain. She was pulled forward roughly and something cleaned the blood from her lips and breathe fluttered across the bridge of her nose again. It smelled dry and almost rank. Metallic.
Even though she couldn't see, she knew the blood was gone.
The wet left was saliva.
Lori's body exploded in goosebumps as she continued to quiver, waiting for the monster to finish its appetizer and sink its teeth into her throat. Rip it out and lick up all the blood that would splash about the room and maybe eat the flesh later. She could see the door opening the next morning, light spilling onto a maroon stained floor and Gab's face turning ashy white.
Until it got him, that was.
Her arm rose up under that crushing grip and the thing started to lick her elbow. Lori's face twisted in disgust and she turned it against her shoulder. Quick little pulls in her chest told her she wanted to start sobbing. She gritted her teeth together as her throat worked.
"I-I won't c-cry." She told the dark despairingly, "A H-Hellsing never cries."
Pretty soon she wouldn't have to worry about that, her mind consoled, even through the waves of terror. Pretty soon you won't be a Hellsing anymore. Pretty soon you wouldn't even be alive to worry about being a true Hellsing.
It was a strange but surprisingly comforting thought.
It made her tensed up arm and face relax. For some reason it made the prospect of death a little bit easier to digest and accept.
Or so she thought before that licking stopped. A moment later she found her back slammed into the wall, her arms pined, feet off the floor, and something laughing in her ear. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. More mocking and unruly that made the something in the back of her head twitch despite her throbbing skull. To hear that dark laughter meant this thing was intelligent as well as inhuman. It was a shock that made her blink even as words spoken in perfect English took to the air.
"Like hell you are." It bubbled and snarled at the same time. It sounded male, but was definitely not human.
Lori blinked at the darkness waiting for some kind of agony to blossom.
There was silence for a time instead.
"What is your name?" The thing demanded with metallic rank breath.
Lorian couldn't get her mouth open to answer. Her tongue was dead on the bottom of her mouth. It was weird. Now that it was talking, all the comfort was gone and now something else surged up in its place.
Her leg swung up and she tried to kick it, suddenly snarling. Missed. Slammed her head down when it didn't work and banged it on something just as hard. A distinct snap broke into the air; she felt the small break on her forehead before pulling it away with pain. It hit the ground and continued to smash, a more of a tinkling glass noise. Lori saw stars flickering around the dark, but couldn't see any better, dark laughter rolling off the walls.
"Little hell cat, you broke my sunglasses-"
The mocking laughter hurt more than anything. It was worse than the groans from her teachers when she brought back the worksheet they gave her because she still didn't understand. Worse than the shouting from her fencing instructor after three hours of trying to get one move done correctly, just once, and failing miserably every single time. Worse than even her father shaking his head at her and asking her way she couldn't do anything right.
"SHUT UP!"
Lori slammed her forehead into his nose again. It hurt, but it didn't stop her from doing it again. And again, and again, and again-
The blood was flowing from her skull when, finally, his hand came up and restrained her, pressing her head against the wall, still chuckling a little bit. One arm was free, however. She swung it out and gave him a left hook and tried to kick him at the same time. Neither did much good. She was stuck and even if she did feel his head rock to the side, he just kept laughing.
"Stop LAUGHING at me!" She bellowed, banging at his arm despite the soreness of her knuckles.
All it did was make him laugh harder and more viciously. He shifted her arms again, but he had only two arms to restrict her, and she was swinging her legs and her one free arm around. He pinned the arm again, but it left her head free. She felt the weight of his palm, crushing her shoulder. Head banging didn't work. So she did the only thing she could think of.
Lori she opened her mouth and clamped down.
Her teeth sank into his wrist.
It happened very fast after that. His blood was cold and sang onto her tongue. For a moment there was an insane urge to swallow, before he ripped his wrist out of her mouth. His hand fell down hard onto her throat. That did the trick. She stopped struggling, too busy at the sudden lack of air to notice. She grabbed that hand and gasped, gagging and trying to breath.
"You bit me."
The voice sounded incredulous, before that laughter suddenly grew to a terrific volume. It was so loud it made bells ring in her ears. Lori felt she was drowning in the utter blackness of it. She thought the room was dark? That was a laugh! The metallic taste in her mouth had yet to be swallowed back, and she didn't want it to. Yet it was hard to pool the spit in her mouth and get rid of it at that moment.
His forehead pressed against hers.
Was there a flash of red?
"You should never bite a vampire, little hell cat. Not unless you wish to join the undead. It would be too easy to return the favor."
Suddenly his grip was gone. The coolness of his brow gone. She slid down the side of the wall and fell heavily on her ass, head bleeding and sore all over, but before all else she managed to twist her head away and spit out that metallic taste swimming in her mouth.
There was a spinning sensation that made her want to throw up, but she knew he was still somewhere in the room, even if it was dark. Lorian started to sweat and just lean over and go to sleep. Exhausted. Her legs and arms didn't want to move and her head just ached as she tried to look about the room for him.
For the billionth time in her life, her own inadequateness was shoved in her face.
Lori could feel herself leaning forward, ready to fall onto her face and faint. She could tell from the panting and the swaying. There wasn't a thing to be done about it. The wind brushed past her face, but she was caught before she could really break her nose this time. A steadying cold hand grabbed the back of her shirt effortlessly.
"Tuckered out? Well, it has been a long night." The voice said, almost mockingly. His arms came about and collected her up. Soon she found her cheek against his chest and being carried like a little baby in his arms. She wanted to lift her head and smack it against him, but she was too tired to even try. Terror can be draining, and her will wasn't very strong. It was a thing she was constantly reminded of. A terrible little truth that always seemed to have grown its own set of teeth and had a tendency to bite in their own right.
She felt him move forward and heard his feet on the stairs.
The door opened without any problem at all.
Far too tired to be surprised at all, Lorian's head just lolled and she let out a small sigh before she finally fainted.
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Book Dragon: "Bad? Good? Somebody let me know. I'm accepting flames."
