Everyone had work the next day and some fared better upon their return than others. The demons, of course, were not tired in the slightest, although they were very reluctant in getting back to their respective duties, but they weren't the only ones who were not affected by exhaustion. Elizabeth returned to work with gusto, prepared to do something that was difficult for most HELLSING operatives. She was going to have to interrogate a fellow member of the organisation. Furthermore, she had to interrogate one that had done nothing wrong.

Doctor Warren Turner, also known around the base as "Doctor Tutankhamen," was a valued and incredibly reliable staff member, in addition to being a brilliant surgeon. He had his quirks, of course, but it was only expected, after what he had been through. One day, he arrived with a camera, claiming it to be a diabolical object. It's authenticity was tested and sure enough, he was telling the truth. As he was unable to continue practising anywhere else, he enlisted at HELLSING and has been there ever since.

He knew that he was going to be interrogated soon, but didn't know when. It was only the morning he heard the unusual sound of high heels making their way down the corridor that he knew. Hardly anyone else at the base wears those shoes, so of course, it had to be…

"Dame Hellsing." he greeted, standing up from his office chair. He stood up straight and held out a gloved hand to shake with her. It wasn't made of latex, it was a regular glove so that he wouldn't see his skin. His face was completely covered in bandages, save for openings for his eyes and his mouth. There were tufts of black hair sticking out of the top of his head, having slipped out from underneath. He didn't dress himself like one would dress a wound. He had to breathe and he couldn't waste too much gauze on it. Regardless, he was a rather scary looking man. At an organisation employing vampires, werewolves, demons, revenants, and a grim reaper, he was the organisation's only mummy.

"It's a pleasure to see you." he continued. "Do you want me to follow you to an interrogation room?"

"No, that's alright." Elizabeth replied. "If you'll have me, it would be just as well if we did this in your office."

"Of course. Please, have a seat." Doctor Turner said, gesturing to a chair. "I'll get the door."

"Thank you so much. I'm very sorry to have to take up your time with this."

"Oh, no, not at all. I don't mind in the slightest." the man said while closing the door. Afterward, he sat right back down in his own seat and got comfortable. "I'm always happy to help, especially when it comes to the Camera Obscura."

"We need to know if all of the information you gave us before is still accurate." Dame Hellsing replied. "In addition, if you know any other uses for the camera."

"The information I gave is exactly as I saw it." Doctor Turner said, nodding affirmatively. "You all are the only people who would listen to me, so I made sure to give you as much detail as I could. As for other uses for the camera, I'm sure there's others. It simply depends on how.. 'creative' a person is. Dame Hellsing, I am a man of science first and foremost, but that camera does work that is ungodly."

"Can you explain?" Elizabeth inquired before gesturing to her papers. "I've never heard the story except briefly from others or written in notes. While I can understand it with my own prior knowledge of the occult, I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what exactly happened."

Leaning back in his chair, Warren looked up at the ceiling for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "Horrible things." he began. "I was hired as a personal surgeon for a Lady Pendergraft more than a decade ago. I didn't know what exactly that would entail at the time and had I known, I would have ran the other way and called the police to raid that place…

"I don't know how she would get them and I didn't ask, but somehow, she would get her hands on these cadavers and ask me to… Essentially sew them back up and try to reconnect anything and everything that was faulty about them apart from being dead. Dame Hellsing, I assure you, I am no mad scientist and never wanted to be in my life, nor have I since, but what she was making me doing was the sort of thing that could only be done by Victor Frankenstein. But, she paid well and I was just out of medical school, so I did what I was told. Then, however, the real experiments would start.

"I have no idea how she would get them and I certainly would never ask out of fear, but she would… She would somehow trap souls inside the camera and then with another flash, trap them in the next thing they took a picture of. She did it with dolls, with objects, with animals… And then, the cadavers… God, the cadavers… The worst thing was: they would actually move… They would talk.. They were alive, but if they screamed- and they always did- she would snap their photo again and take back their soul, trapping it in the camera again."

"It says here that she was apprehended shortly after your report, but that you expressed doubts." Elizabeth stated. "Why is that?"

"The woman could do something no surgeon could. She could transplant a soul into a different body." the doctor said. "Ultimately, I think she was gearing up to take the plunge one day. I have no doubt that you got her body, but there's always going to be that doubt in the back of my head as to whether or not you got her."

That was true. It was a possibility. Even though HELLSING had operatives who could recognise individual souls, if they didn't already know the person's signature, it was impossible to be sure that one got the right person. "Doctor Turner..." the woman began again. "Why do you think she did all of that?"

"What?"

"Surely there has to be a motivation for it." she said. "People don't do things for no reason. There's always some kind of rationale behind it, even if it isn't obvious to ourselves. Do you have any theories?"

Looking down at the floor, the Doctor sighed. "I don't know." he answered. "I didn't see much of her. Only her minions. I don't know why she did the things that she did. I'm no psychologist, but the only reason I can think of is that she's insane. Just this nasty little old lady..."

"Old lady?" questioned Elizabeth. Pausing, she thought for a moment before asking: "Doctor, did you notice any kind of pattern with what kind of cadavers were brought in?"

"They were usually young women." Warren replied. "Sometimes children. Why?"

"You said that she might have been preparing to use the device on herself." Dame Hellsing explained. "An old woman? Was she ever ill?"

"Are you suggesting that she might have been trying to avoid death, herself?"

"Indeed, and if she did in fact escape like you theorise, she might have succeeded prolonging her life at the least. At the most; if she did use a cadaver instead of an already living person, she might have essentially made herself deathless. A revenant. Our weapons cannot work on revenants. If she is indeed out there, we will probably have to send the demons after her."

"Why demons?"

"Not only can they touch a soul and take it from another person, they can destroy it."

"Can you really advocate for that as an angel?" Doctor Turner inquired.

"No. In fact, I would prefer it if they didn't. But, if I have the soul brought back, instead, I can turn it in to Grim Reaper Dispatch for collection." the woman stated. "Either way, she will die. All she has to do is pray we don't find her.

"If, however, she is inhabiting a living person, she will have effectively gotten away with it, I'm afraid." she continued. "That is, of course, unless she is one of the people who has flagged our systems by looking into the object. Then, we will find her."

The doctor didn't reply. Instead, he simply hummed as he appeared to think about it. Obviously, Doctor Turner didn't seem convinced. "What are you going to do now?"

"Try to figure out if the people who are looking up these specific devices are a legitimate threat." Elizabeth bluntly stated. "It might be a curious human who has somehow heard whispers, but who knows? It could be serious."

"I hope it's just a fluke." Warren said very seriously. "Messing around with those objects, or even being around them while someone else is… It's very serious."

"I know, Doctor." the woman said rather sadly, understanding why the man was so passionate. She paused, feeling as though she should tell him what she did next, but felt as though he needed to know.

"We are considering the destruction of the camera." she informed him, looking up from her papers in search of any sign of distress from those eyes she could see through the bandages.

There was for a moment, but then there was sadness. "You should." the man stated. "It's for the best. A device that dangerous can't be allowed to exist."

"Are you sure about that, doctor?" the woman inquired. "I know someone who could make another medium-"

"I'm fine, Dame Hellsing. Really, I am." Doctor Turner interrupted, holding up a hand. "I've long since accepted my fate. I will not change it. If I do, a very good friend of mine will die, and I don't want that on my conscience. But thank you for your consideration."

Elizabeth wanted to argue with him. She wanted to point out how futile that was, but she simply didn't have it in her. There was no use arguing anyway. She knew that the man would not listen. Thus, she simply smiled and gathered up her things. "I'll come to you if I have any further questions." she said while standing. "Thank you again for your time, Doctor."

"Any time." the man replied, watching her as she left and shut the door behind her. Once she was gone, he let out a heavy sigh and looked down, tapping his fingers on the table. After a few moments, he fiddled with his fingertips, pinching the fabric of his gloves.

Masterminds were everywhere it seemed. Elizabeth submitted the name "Pendergraft" to the intelligence department just to see what would come up. As for the other objects, she had nothing. She had no idea who could possibly want them. Yet, she knew that in time, she would find out.

She wasn't the only one hard at work, however. Even though it was the day directly after his own birthday, Alois returned from his day of rest to the field. He hated to do it, since it always put him in such a foul mood, and he had such a good time the previous night. The blonde even woke up on the right side of the bed and had a rather pleasant day until it was time to work again. Assassin work, that is. Yes, after such an evening of wonder, Alois had to throw it all away again because he knew that on this specific date, November the sixth of 2016, Julian Pomeroy was going to be at a certain location at a certain time.

On the Sunday of every other week, Pomeroy always went to a specific massage parlor. What for was up to speculation and wasn't exactly something that Alois needed to know. All that he did need to know was that there was a few minute window when he would be alone in a room. Thus, while wearing the face of a rather average-looking businessman, he followed a ways behind Pomeroy, armed to the teeth with a few of his birthday presents. However, early on, he noticed he had hit a snag.

It was only natural that the Pomeroys would catch on that they were being targeted. Along with Julian tagged along a pair of bodygaurds. They were big men who no doubt carried weapons. There was no doubt in Alois' mind that he could take them. He could kill them in an instant without the slightest bit of effort, yet, the plan relied on him not being seen or heard. It was obvious that they would be guarding the door to the massage room, but if they went so far as to stay in the room with Pomeroy, that could make things extremely inconvenient for the menace.

Another day. Alois decided to keep walking, passing his target by, meaning that Julian Pomeroy, the current head of the Pomeroy family, would live to see another day. The Phantomhive didn't know anything about Julian personally, yet he hated him the most. He was the one who looked the most like a Trancy, and as Alois walked by, he couldn't help but give off an air of malice directed at him. Julian, however, never knew just how narrowly he escaped death in that one moment where they passed on the street. They were so close that the menace could smell his disgusting cologne, yet he couldn't kill him right there. The streets were too crowded. Jim needed to work out a scenario for attacks in plain sight first before he actually acted one out. So, another day. His attempt would have to wait until another day.

Yet, in a way, luck was on someone else's side that day, even if it wasn't on Alois'. Disappointingly, he piled into his car and returned his shape to normal behind the concealment of tinted glass. He buckled his seatbelt and checked his mirrors, but just as he was about to start the engine, his phone rang, causing him to roll his eyes. He wondered just what else the day was about to bring him,

"Phantomhive." he said, placing the phone up to his ear. Funnily enough, after hearing Ciel answer the phone this way for years, it now was a natural thing for Alois to do as well.

"Is this Jim Phantomhive?!" called the frantic voice on the other end. "The one Ciel told us to call?!"

"'Tis I. Who is this and what do you want?" Alois asked rather rudely.

"This is Scotland Yard and we have a situation at the station! We found a weird ring at a crime scene and detective Bailey put it on. Then all of a sudden, he started dancing!"

"So? Let him dance."

"That was two hours ago! He says the ring is making him do it and he can't stop so he begged us to call this 'Ciel Phantomhive' guy and then when we did, he told us to call you! The detective is crying!"

"Sounds pretty serious." the menace conceded. "I've got nothing better to do today, so I'll come take a look."

With that, he hung up, leaving the poor cop on the other end uncertain as to how long it would take him to arrive. In truth, the menace didn't know, either, but had a way of shortening the time, if he could figure out just where he put it. He opened the glovebox and it wasn't there, he looked in the backseat and it wasn't there, but finally, when he looked under the passenger seat, he found it and plugged it in. With that, he rolled down the window and stuck both it and his arm through, before latching it on to the roof of the Mercedes.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he ignited the engine, and flipped a few switches, causing the light on the roof to turn on as well as a few flashing lights that were usually hidden behind the grill of the car. Smiling, he put the vehicle into gear and flipped one last switch, activating a loud siren. Now, Alois was ready to handle traffic. Pulling out onto the street, he sped off, cackling as cars hurried to move out of his way. Finally, at long last, Alois had found an excuse to use the toy of the Phantomhives that he had always wanted to the most. Finally, Alois was driving a police car.

Thus, he rushed to the police station as quickly as possible, enjoying every single second of it. He whizzed around cars and blew through red lights without consequence or having to bribe a single person and it was truly glorious. Perhaps the most fun part came at the very end when he arrived at the police station, parking outside of a space and leaving skidmarks as he drifted to a stop. Quickly, he put it in park and stepped out before walking into the police station with purpose.

It was always a terrifying sight for the London Metropolitan Police to see a Phantomhive at their station, particularly, one with such a big grin. He wasn't sure of what to make of Detective Bailey Juniour's predicament, but he would have to thank him for the opportunity to have that car ride to him. Disregarding officers who cowered in their cubicles, Alois waltzed right to the homicide department and was immediately greeted by several cops who insisted that they followed them. From there, he was led to the evidence room.

"What the fuck?" he gawked, completely stunned by the sight.

Sure enough, Michael Bailey was dancing his heart out in the middle of the evidence room, but he didn't appear to be having a good time. He was drenched in sweat and looked extremely ill. Alois knew that he had to do something, but didn't even know what was wrong with the man in the first place.

"What happened, Juniour?" he asked. "Got dance fever?"

"Phantomhive!" breathlessly exclaimed the detective, his face wrought with pain. "Please! Get this ring off me! I put it on and now it won't come off!"

"Have you tried twisting it back and forth a bit?"

"Yes! Please! I can't stop! It's making me dance and I can't stop! Everything hurts!" This was serious. The officer on the phone said that he had been crying and the detective looked like he was close to tears again.

"Okay, give me a second." the blonde stated. He was confused, but he was calm. He didn't know what was at stake or what was happening, but if it was as simple as taking a ring off of the man's finger, he wasn't going to worry about it too much.

Making his way over to the other man, he avoided Bailey's kicks and attempts to pairs dance with him against both of their wills. After the man had done a spin, he grabbed Detective Bailey's wrist and held it with quite a bit of strength. Alois was surprised. It took above average human strength to keep the arm in the same spot, but the menace still had to tuck it underneath his own and hold it in place, as the man's thrashing and dancing made it hard to work. It was surprising how strong Bailey was, but it wasn't too strong for Jim Phantomhive to handle.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! My arm! You're gonna break it!"

"Calm down! A broken arm's not that big of a deal!" Alois replied unsympathetically while he wrestled with the detective.

He grabbed onto the ring with his index and thumb and was shocked by the energy that he felt coming off of it. Bailey wasn't lying. This ring wasn't normal. It had an almost sinister supernatural aura coming from it, causing the menace more than a bit of concern. He tried twisting it, he tried tugging, pulling, and almost debated on whether or not he should ask if there was any butter in the break room. Very quickly, however, it became evident that the ring was not coming off and Bailey was still dancing.

"AUGH! You're gonna pull the joint apart!" Bailey shouted as the demon pulled harder.

"It's not coming off." the demon stated.

"No shit, Sherlock!"

"No, I mean it's definitely not going to come off." he reiterated. For the first time during the encounter, Alois realised that Michael's life was actually in danger.

The dancing looked funny to those on the outside, but in reality, Michael was already seriously injured. It had been over two hours since he donned the ring and it was only a matter of time before he passed out from exhaustion, or simply keeled over. Left on his own, the exhaustion could kill him, or maybe dehydration. His heart could give out, too, and that was never good, so the menace had to think fast. This was no ordinary object. This was something evil.

"Bailey." the blonde began, capturing the other's attention.

"What?!" barked the detective.

"I think the finger might have to come off." Alois said.

"What?!" Michael demanded, his eyes going wide. "No! No, no, no, no, no! There is no way that you're doing that!"

"I can't think of another way to get this thing off of you! It's attatched! It's a supernatural object that's obviously designed with malicious intent! If I leave it on your finger for much longer, it will kill you!"

"Can't you think of anything else!"

"No! I just said so!"

"Well, think harder!"

"Can you spare a few more hours?!"

"No!" Michael replied. "But you're not gonna do that!"

Ignoring the man's cries, Alois dragged his dancing body over to a table and roughly slammed his arm down on it so that his palm was flat against it's surface. He held it there, but Michael wouldn't stop twisting his wrist around and holding his hand shut, even while dancing.

"No!" he cried out. "Don't you fucking do it, you dirty fucking demon!"

Turning his attention to the other officers in the room, Alois called out to them. "Oi! You! Hold down his arm for me!" Eyes wide, they stood there, frozen, unsure of what to make of the scene. "Get over here, or this man is gonna die!"

That got them moving. They thoroughly and repeatedly apologised to detective Bailey as they walked over, firmly pressing his arm down on the table while Alois repositioned his own hand to hold Micheal's in place and give himself a clear shot. They couldn't disobey a Phantomhive, especially when it seemed that he knew what he was talking about. Needless to say, the detective wasn't pleased.

"Fuck you!" he screamed. "Fuck all of you! I'm going to get you all fucking fired for this."

"No, he's not." Alois assured, unraveling the threads of his demonic garb to reveal a large knife.

It was an absurd weapon and most definitely an illegal weapon to own, as it was most definitely made to kill someone. It was a dagger combined with a pair of brass knuckles, with runes engraved into it so it functioned as an anti-freak weapon also. It was a birthday present from his husband and even had the words "to my beloved" sweetly carved into the handle. Ciel was always the sentimental sort, but always liked to give practical gifts that could prove useful. Indeed, it was, but Michael Bailey was not the person he had planned on testing it out on that day.

Every single police officer in that room was stunned for multiple reasons. One was the fact that the knife was so menacing and the other was because the blonde had materialised it out of nowhere. Finally, there was the fact that he was going to use it on their coworker. They saw him line it up just below the ring, close to his knuckle. Sadly, Detective Bailey was right-handed, but on the bright side, he had one more ring finger left for whenever he decided to get married.

"On three." the demon said while listening to the detective shout profanities. The other officers closed their eyes. "One… Two..."

Alois lied. After the second beat, he swung downward. It was precise, hitting the mark, and it was hard enough for the blonde's blade to stab through the table completely. Alois was sure to use a lot of strength on purpose so that the severance would be clean and only require one swipe instead of a few. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of the finger on the table, and the loudness of Bailey's scream made him feel extremely guilty. The blonde sincerely hoped that his father wouldn't be too terribly mad at him, as he really quite liked Bailey seniour. He saw him as an odd uncle of sorts and was afraid that he most likely disappointed him.

Fortunately, his assumption was right, and Michael's body had stopped dancing. The only problem was that it collapsed from exhaustion and he had pulled several muscles over the past few hours, so he couldn't get up on his own. All he could do was hold onto his hand and try to keep the blood from making too big of a puddle on the linoleum floor.

"I'm so sorry!" Alois apologised, but it was pointless. It wasn't being heard. Thus, all that was left for the menace to do was order the police around and tell them to get an ambulance and someone who was trained in first aid. Then, he turned his attention back to the finger and with disgust apparent on his face, he ignored his stomach and picked it up. He pinched the sides of the ring, and sure enough, it now slid off, leaving him to wonder how on earth this object came into the possession of Detective Bailey.

Alois was in a police station, so someone somewhere knew something. What he found was "odd," to say the least. Walking down the hall with the bloodied ring in hand, he eventually found the cubicle of the officer who called and stopped to ask her a few further questions.

"It's from a case." she said. "Michael was being an idiot and put the ring on after it wound up in the evidence room."

"Why was it there in the first place? What was it evidence for?" the demon asked, arching his brow. It was unusual for a ring to wind up in the evidence room unless it was for theft or some such, which is what Alois had assumed. To his surprise, however, that was not the case.

"As weird as it sounds, that ring has been worn by several people who had died." the officer stated. "The first was a really, really rich guy, and the second was the guy's son. The third was the son's daughter, and after that, Bailey recognised the ring and thought something was weird about it, so he brought it in. He kept muttering about 'bizzaro shit' and how he didn't want to bring in you guys."

"So he put it on to see what's up..."

"Yep. Sounds about right."

"Right..." Alois sighed, holding up the ring to view and looking at it. "Can you forward any details about that case to me? I know somebody who would be very interested in figuring this out for ya."

"Of course, Sir. Are you going to go give them the ring?"

"Might as well. You wouldn't happen to have any more of those cute little evidence baggies lying around that I can borrow?"

"Right this way." the woman replied, standing up. With that, he followed her and wondered just how his day ended up like this.


A/N: Shorter than the last chapter, but still pretty long. Very plot-heavy, though, so I hope everyone took notes.

Shame about Bailey, though. He's going to have to go to the hospital for his finger. And for exhaustion. And for all of those pulled muscles...

You'll find out what that shit is next time. Promise. But seriously, damn...

Also, it's totes cute that Alois' boo got him a knife. I didn't write it and I should have, but I just pictured the scene after the party where Alois is opening his presents and Ciel is there, watching him, waiting for him to get to his. Ciel has this dopey little smile on his face as he anxiously awaits his Alois' opinion. Probably fidgets a little bit and is like "Do you like it?" When Alois puts it in his fist and starts doing a few practise swings in the air, all Pooch can do is watch him and think about how cute he looks while swinging around a very dangerous weapon.

I love sweet criminal moments. They are ADORABLE. Need a gift idea for your sweetheart? Boom! Big, illegal knife. You're welcome. He even had a little cutesy message engraved on the handle because he loves his spouse and wants him to know that while using the brass knuckles attached to the knife to cave someone's head in.

"You're doing so good, sweetie."

Relationship goals.

Anyway, here's a question:

"Hey! so I'm brainfarting on something. When you start saying the different people who had come to the surprise party, you listed a Cynthia after mentioning the esstienal eight and I'm totally blank on who that was. I'm sorry if this is a stupid question, It's late at night and I'm tired as hell." by animegeek00

The Essential Eight are what became of the Sensational Seven. Only now it's Ciel, Alois, Kristopherson, Logan, Daniel, Audrey, Travis, and Patricia.

000000

Question: "If Preston had lived through his arc, how do you think he would fit into the current storyline? Could he? Do you think he'd just be an outcast?" by Guest.

That depends entirely on what you mean. Do you mean SURVIVED? Like, he just survived the arc? Because in that case, he would just be killed later. But, if you mean like, he didn't create the Scarlet Order? He would've still worked for HELLSING as a supernatural agent. He would only be as outcast as the others. He would have eventually worked through his problems and everything would have been fine.

Have fun imagining what could have been :)

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!