Book Dragon: "Thank you, pruningshears, Ridicully, mslcats, and Psygirl for your reviews. Thank you everyone who has posted a review for any of these three chapters. I'm pinching myself continually in amazement."
Chapter 4
London at night was odd. Seeing London at all was odder. Lorian stretched her neck looking up at the buildings and gawked at the people. As the lacking child, she'd never left the house much. She'd been out only once or twice, and that was for family meetings and things.
City life was bizarre and intimidating. The smells were both pleasant and disgusting. The people were interesting and frightening. The noise was dominating. The cars roaring by like wild beasts and the occasional blast of a horn as some cabby slammed the wheel in agitation. The street lamps making orange pools of light on the sidewalks and drawing thousands of moths, fluttering in endless circles. The old buildings, the mold, and the age of the place; not as well kept as her own castle.
Her fingers brushed the pistol in her pocket and found comfort.
Despite her best intentions, she found herself drifting closer and closer to him because he was something at least known. He didn't glance at her or make a comment to it. When she glanced up at him, she wondered if he even was aware she was with him anymore. His red eyes stole to the scenery and the people and the cars. His stride was casual, as if he was just going for a calm after-dinner walk.
Maybe it was how they got out of the house without anyone knowing that made her a little bit more comfortable in his presence. She'd had no idea how to slip past the guards, but he'd showed her something he could do.
It took maybe a half hour for him to get close enough to grab her by the shoulder and bring her through the wall with him. He did it, though, and she had had a hard time not shivering as they got out of the unspeakable blackness and into the weapons room. Despite her best intentions, she had been clinging to him when they finally walked out of shadow.
Watching him pace through that place was like watching a kid in a candy store. He'd pick something up, weight it, shake his head, and move to something else. When he found what he wanted, a huge black pistol with a long barrel, she could tell he was pleased. He found the clips for it, a box full, and tucked them into his jacket with ease.
"Aren't you bringing something?" He asked when she hadn't moved.
Lori took an automatic pistol and a few clips to both humor him, and if need be, distract him in case he did break his word. She supposed if she blew enough of him apart, it would slow him down and give who ever was in trouble a little more time to escape.
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Another jaunt through a series of walls and out onto the street, she'd had a taste of the unknown and found she didn't need to cling so much. He kept one hand on planted on her shoulder, however, as they passed through. So she won't get lost in it. In the black, Lori was aware of the vastness of it. And its dangers. It would be easy to let it swallow her and become apart of it forever.
Now, ten minutes out in the real world, the world moving like a chaotic machine that had escaped the control of its master, she was suddenly pleased to have someone as powerful and ruthless as him with her. A few odd staring teenagers across the street weren't so menacing, and the nervous fluttery feeling in her stomach was gone.
Or it was until he stopped at the dance club.
Lori hadn't been paying attention and nearly slammed into him when he stopped. When she saw him, gazing up, she followed his gaze, hearing the thudding boom of some loud base, and read the sign. The Blood Bank.
It wasn't ironic that he picked this place. She curled her hand around the butt of her gun and watched him carefully. He cracked his hands a bit and pulled up the collar of his jacket, before finally regarding her with a blood red stare.
"Our first lesson will begin here."
Lorian blinked at him, startled. Lesson?
He stepped through the double doors…
And into a world she couldn't comprehend. The music was blaring loud, hurting her ears immediately, and assaulting her eardrums. She could hear the base drums and a guitar working; feel the beat making the floor shake beneath her shoes. It was dim and murky; the lights were colored and swirling around like search-lights. There was muttering and laughter and happy shouting.
Tables set up and a huge dance floor, it was all blocked out by the amount of people. People moved in black masses, like darkness itself. The air was physically hot from all the body heat they generated, and she could see people nodding and sweating, sitting at tables or at the bar, drinking from glasses of all sizes.
Beyond them in the maze of lights, red, and blue, and green? People in all styles of clothing, but for the most part the older girls wore tight clothing and the boys wore baggy outfits, moved in weird ways to the beat. It wasn't ballroom dancing, some kind of weird shaking and shifting movement that she knew she'd never get. Shoes banging and tapping on the hard wood and hands wrapped around waists or wandering over breasts and mouths close or connected.
Lori gawked at this night world.
"Hey, buddy, you're not allowed to bring a kid in here!" a man yelled from the side of them. Lorian turned her face in his direction, barely hearing him shout over the music and the people.
He was big. More than six feet high in a black tank top, tanned with huge muscles that seemed to be bigger than her waist. They were inscribed with black tattoos, of skulls and bat wings. His blonde hair was gelled to spike and he wore fingerless black biker gloves and jeans with huge skull breaking boots.
Her red vampire (looking punier in the muscle department) just looked at him, his glasses lowering to the bridge of his nose. He was smirking, but it changed again. It was slightly annoyed, but humored by some sort of lack of intelligence. A bit smug. His hand came up and touched her shoulder, finger tips light. It made Lori glance at him.
"This isn't a child, but if you have further complains-"
He lifted his gun and pointed it at him with the other hand.
"I'm here to see someone." He added.
It was amazing, seeing the pent-up anger vanish to a creamy white fear that swept through the bouncer's face. He held up his hands a bit, but wasn't out right terrified. He was a bit skittish though. Lori watched his face move, fascinated.
"Hey, whatever man. I'm just saying." The bouncer replied, stiffly.
It was over. The gun went back into his pocket and the hand came off her shoulder. He moved, his trench coat wafting behind his feet and she followed, glancing over her shoulder at the man every few minutes. They reached the bar, which was pretty tall. Her nose was about two inches above the counter when she stood on the floor.
The beast in red leaned against it and looked at the bartender, another spiky headed boy, lanker with a nose piercing in his left nostril. He wore black as well and a load of crosses and pentagrams. When he put his hands on the counter, his finger nails were also painted black.
"What can I get cha?" He asked, smoothly.
"Where's the owner of this establishment?" The young man blinked at him, and then laughed at his proper manner. He also gave a curious glance at her, but it was a passing sort of thing. Something to do.
"Upstairs, man, to the left. Jesus." He laughed and pointed across the dance floor, and in between the mass of moving bodies, she caught a pair of double doors with a sign on them. Employees only written on it in bright scarlet. There was darkness behind the little perfectly square windows.
"Thank you."
He moved and she followed. He stepped onto the dance floor and the speakers were ten times as loud. They were swallowed by the crowd, the shuffling of bodies. Lori curled into herself in an attempt not to be touched and kept as close as she could. He just walked and ignored them all, and they parted for him. When she was starting to loose him, he stopped and turned a lazy gaze back and waited for her to catch up.
At the doors, he pushed them open and she followed him close. Stairs made of cement and metal railings that were dank and smelled of cigarettes led up in a few twisting turns. He ascended, and pulled his pistol out and slammed a clip into place. Lorian removed her own weapon, ready to counter attack any of his actions if need be.
At the very top was a blank door, but something had changed. It was dramatic. Lorian didn't like it. It was almost a smell and a touch, something that could be felt pressing against her skin or the tips of her fingers. Danger was very close. The music was muffled and the vibration in the floor was gone, making her feet feel bare. She looked at the door warily, so warily she nearly missed what he said.
"When you shoot, shoot for the heart. The head will be secondary. It will be fast, so try to keep up."
And he opened the door.
It took maybe five seconds to see what was happening. It was over in less than three. He moved in less than that time. If someone had really been in trouble, she would've failed miserably in trying to protect them. By the time she would've shot him, he would've at least fired five shots and the person would've been nothing but a bleeding mess.
He strode in, fast, and after his coat stopped fluttering in her eyes, she saw the office. The couch and the red carpet. The paintings hanging on the walls, the squat little desk. Smelled the cigar smoke. All that was in the background. In the foreground was a man sitting on the couch, his eyes glazed over as two younger girls in matching costumes, black leather pants and tight fitting lacy white tops, nibbled his neck and sucked the blood from him.
Both of them lifted their faces from their meal at the sight of him and managed to hiss before a shot slammed into each of their chests and another into their heads. Another man behind the desk stood up, his chair falling with a thud behind him. He was much faster than the others. More prepared too. He clicked the machine gun in his hands and didn't bother talking much. He riddled the vampire full of holes. Lori barely escaped, flinging herself to the side, unable to scream.
Her body moved on its own. Her shoulder slammed into the carpet, but one eye was already squinting and aiming. Her bullet slipped too high up his chest to hit his heart. The blood flew and he rocked back a little. There was no horror, even before she saw the fangs the man was sporting.
Instead, there was a sudden singing blast of sensory. All at once she could see clearly. See every detail of it, this place; the very world. It was like it had suddenly grown brighter and more real than ever before. Almost as if a sharper second pair of eyes just opened in her mind.
She could see the red in his eyes.
Suddenly, she grinned as her trigger finger twitched.
And turned them to black as she fired two shots into his skull.
Lorian got to her feet and watched the blood run from his black sockets, like scarlet tears, before his body just leaned forward and slumped onto the desk with a thud. She kept her gun pointed at him, in case he so much as twitched, and only heard the muffled rock music.
Something shifted on the floor.
Lori looked over at the red trench coat on the floor and wasn't surprised much by the black swirling that was seeping into it. It was interesting to watch. Her heart was pounding, revealing in the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The clarity was going away. He swirled like an ebony fog, tendrils flowing up beneath the coat. Smoke drifting backwards, flowing back into him. Velvet lightless twilight that moved like fog.
When they stopped, he lifted himself up and stood. She watched the darkness swirl and remake his face. One of the lenses was cracked and gone, so she could see one red eye looking towards the desk even before he wandered over.
He picked up the corpse's head, looked at the two black eye sockets were she'd shot out his eyes. When its fingers twitched, he pointed the muzzle into his back and shot once. Then his fingers relaxed. Those red eyes looked at her a minute.
"I said the heart first. Not the head. And never look into a vampire's eyes. That is how they gain control of their victims, hasn't anyone ever told you that?"
His words brought home what she just did.
Lorian looked down at the gun curled in her hands in disbelief as the killer inside left her completely. Still just a child in most ways, it was shocking to discover the human brutality in a soul, even if you trained in instruments that were meant to mare flesh. For a moment, she felt she was going to be sick.
"I-I killed them."
"No, they were already dead." He pointed out, a tad annoyed.
She just stared at him, trying to understand and having a hard time. The worst part, she was finding, was not that there had been no hesitation, but that she had actually liked it. Felt truly alive for a few meandering seconds of her life.
"Stop it." He snarled before she could follow the urge to throw her gun away, "This is what your family as done for years. That is your nature. Don't be afraid of it. Embrace it."
His words weren't soft. They were normal and spoke factually. They were meant in no way to inspire or give hope. They weren't even flavored with that sick amusement of his. It was just truth. Lori stared at her pistol for a few long seconds, feeling her heart beat in her chest. Steadily. Rhythmic.
Considered it.
Yes, they were vampires. Yes, they were dead. She looked at the body of the man, dying from the fang wounds and the blood dribbling out of his next. Blood loss. The lights were gone from his eyes. Now no more men would die by those three pairs of fangs.
So she looked up at the red clad monster.
"You cheated." She said.
"Cheated? You said not to hurt anyone. I didn't." He replied, smoothly.
"Monster." She snarled, beaten.
"I already told you to call me Alucard." He said, straightening up, the gun still in his hand. The predatory killing craze was back, in full view on his visage. Pleased as punch.
"The night is still young. We need to find the Head vampire."
Lorian considered it, before finally tucking another bullet into the barrel of her gun. With all the target practice, with all the sword-play, all the war history she'd been schooled in, was this not what they wanted of her? Even if Gab was going to be a better killer, a better weapon, but did they not train her to be one as well?
Isn't this what they always wanted of her?
"Alright. Let's go." She replied in a sigh, defeated again.
He grinned like a jack 'o lantern.
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Lorian was covered in blood by midnight. The fight was over by then as well. The vampire-Alucard- had introduced her to more of his kind and their ways. It was a glimpse, but she learned a lot. She learned about Ghouls and about the powers of head vampires. A few things, not all. Most of the things mythology just rattled off with absolutely no taste what so ever. It gave no real sense of the extent of it.
It had been…intense.
The zombie like forces were slow in moving, so she picked them off one at a time and allowed him to show her how to take down a Head vampire. It was educational, to say the very least. She watched them fight, watched him sustain injury after injury and just keep getting back up and dealing out more punishment before finally stabbing his heart with one hand and sending him into swirling dust.
It was later, standing among the bodies, that she asked him the question, timidly.
"What was the thing you killed in the library that night? It wasn't a Ghoul..."
"That was a Freak."
"What's a Freak?"
"A servant with a mind, very much unlike a Ghoul. Don't worry; I killed its master the other night." He said, his tone implying that he really wasn't paying much attention. Yet, he smiled a little. A wolfish thing that was secretive.
Lorian nodded to his answer, satisfied. Also, completely oblivious as to how a Freak could've entered their house when none had before. The house had defenses, of course it did, it had the only potential heir. How a Freak couldn't entered, even under the influence of a little maggot vampire was impossible.
Without inside help.
Alucard kept smiling.
But Lori's thirteen year old mind never connected the two.
Instead, Lori looked at him to see if he was annoyed by her stupidity and slowness that was hinting through such a question. Mr. Howl sometimes was. Her teacher didn't know it, and for the most part he was good at hiding it, but some times it would slip onto his face. Alucard's face was as it always was. He wasn't looking at her, just standing in the little field where they'd chased and cornered the head honcho and took him down, staring up at the sky.
It was strange. Mr. Howl and Alucard were already being compared and contrasted in her mind. Mr. Howl was one to write notes and engage in longer conversations and try to be patient. Alucard was mostly sarcastic, and he made snide comments, but didn't exactly yell. He'd called her an idiot a few times, but it wasn't anything like Mr. Howl sighing for the third time as he tried, again, to explain something to her.
They were both superior.
They were both teachers.
But the word 'master' brought something else to mind. Hadn't he called her Master? Thinking back, was that not why he had asked for her orders last night in the kitchen? Why would he believe that she was his master? Because she came and gave him blood? Lorian hoped he was mistaken or maybe just crazy. Teasing her? She was not a Master in the least. If anyone would be his Master, it would have to be Dad or Gab-
"What is your name?" Alucard asked, still looking up at the moon.
"Lorian Integra Michaela Hellsing." She muttered.
Stretching her gaze up to the silver circle, still thinking, but soon it all became secondary. She could see why he was staring at it. It was very large and rather lovely for such a clear night. She did not miss the curl of his lips, humored.
"Master isn't such a mouthful." He said, as if he'd been reading her thoughts.
"Not that. Hell-cat is more becoming than Master." Did he look annoyed?
"Or Lorian or Lori." She replied, unyielding, but it was a shy thing.
"Very well, Hell-cat then."
Lori sighed.
And for a while they both just stared up at the moon.
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Book Dragon: "Reviews? Flames? I'm reading everything."
