[The name of my OC is Lydia Romanoff and is made up by me.]

When I woke up the next day, one of my greatest fears had become true.

I had gotten my period, and I had nothing to protect myself with except for toilet paper and tissues. Worst of all, I didn't know who I should ask about this sensitive matter. Most people onboard were men, and in worst cases; vampires so the idea of them knowing that I was bleeding from my womanhood wasn't something I wanted to provoke.

I remember back to where both Ann and Penelope were alive, and they had a minor discussion about this female issue. Ann had completely ditched the idea to visit Doc, so instead she had gone to the nurse, so I followed her example and did just that. I suppose the Doctor and I were on friendly terms for now, but that doesn't mean that I am willing to bother him with these matters. Actually, he's probably one of the last people I would talk to about this. But to my horror, it seems like the nurse was no longer onboard and apparently we had landed somewhere without me even noticing!

Something told me that this was karma straight from the grave where Ann and Pen had gone. They were probably laughing at me and mocking me from the other side.

Even after doubting asking her out of all people, since she was a vampire, I still sacrificed my honor and asked Rip Van Winkle for help, but to my utter surprise she was completely oblivious to the subject and asked me to repeat myself and I just couldn't make that sacrifice twice.

I was beginning to run out of options after not finding Naomi and also rejecting Zorin out of two reasons; I was avoiding her because I didn't want to tell her the truth about Kevin's non-virginity, and who in the world would ask Miss Blitz for a panty liner?

After another look inside the dining room, I sighed at the lack of Naomi and made my way miserably down the corridor. I could always just lock myself in my room until the despair is over. It only lasted for a few days, so maybe it wouldn't be that much of a big deal? I could even consider this as a short-term vacation.

After getting halfway to my room, I was too down to even notice that someone had appeared beside me.

"You're not supposed to run off on your own. I was looking for you." I recognized Schrödinger's delighted voice and stopped in my tracks.

When I looked at him, it was like I was searching for traces on his features that he knew what I was suffering through. Even though I couldn't find any, I still had a feeling that he knew about it, so I might as well let him know before he mention the matter.

"Just when I thought that this place couldn't get any worse" I began and Schrödinger scratched the back of his head.

"Glad to see you too." he said and chuckled.

"I didn't mean that." I defended, wanting to laugh too but I just couldn't manage.

"I'm on my period." I deadpanned.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm on my period."

"…What?"

And then I hit his arm and laughed, embarrassed at my own ignorance. Who was I kidding? He looked at me so weirdly that I couldn't stop myself from laughing.

He cleared his throat and straightened himself. Deciding to ignore my strangeness, he said: "I wanted to ask you if you want to join me when I sort letters. You could say no, but you won't have any choice because it's an order from your escort." he smiled mysteriously and put his hand proudly on his chest.

"Okay but I need pads." I said, willing to take extreme measures.

"What?"

Extreme measures.

After helping me with my little issue (which Schrödinger still doesn't seem to understand the slightest) he had dumped his entire work station onto the floor in my room which consisted of different sized envelopes and two or three medium-sized letterboxes.

The two of us were seated on the floor like two kindergarten children.

"How come you've never told me you're into poetry, Schrödinger?" I asked and turned to lie on my stomach on the carpet.

"You never asked." he answered casually but with perked up ears, eyes not as interested as they continued to read the envelopes and assort them in piles.

I smiled softly and crawled closer to him, plumping down at his side. I stared at him curiously, making him glare at me too.

"Talk to me in poetry." I asked, okay actually more demanded, and grinned hugely in expectation, not willing to miss Warrant Officer Schrödinger dictate for the world.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment." He dismissed me kindly and looked away, crushing my newborn dream with that sentence. But even so, he stopped his work once again. His hand holding one of the letters dropped to his thigh in a limp manner, his expression turning more and more in awe in some kind of realization.

"You've talked to Doc." he said and looked up at me and I nodded nervously at him finding out about it. "What happened?" he asked, completely taking his attention from the letters. The envelope in his hand dropped to the floor unnoticeably beside him.

I smiled calmly at him. Ever since I knew about Schrödinger's true nature, I felt more relaxed with him, now that I sort of knew what he was.

"I found out that you're not human." I said in kind sarcasm and poked him in his side teasingly.

"What more did he say?" Schrödinger asked, trying to ignore me but he concealed a laugh and twitched from the contact and had grabbed hold of my hand to prevent me from poking him further.

"It appears that…" I said, urging myself up with my elbow with the help of his hold and whispered as close as I could manage near his face: "You're a masterpiece."

A mild blush, barely seen on his skin spread over his cheeks and a withdrawn smirk formed his lips as he let go of me pushed me gently but firmly enough so I ended up laying back down on the floor again, this time on my back.

"You're crushing the letters." he accused in jest, whilst gleefully watching me from above.

"No I'm not." I defended, before even looking if I actually did. Schrödinger stopped laughing and stared at the bunch of unsorted letters like they were distracting him.

"You deliver all of these?" I asked.

"Not all of them." he answered. "Doc once told me that my existence is not to do these mere tasks. I'm more than a messenger boy, actually." Schrödinger said, sounding a bit proud of himself and his words. It made me a bit sad for some reason.

"Yes. Yes you are." I said and urged myself up once again to to rest my head on his shoulder on the same side the swastika was. Schrödinger did not response to my words; instead he waited out a moment of silence to ask this heart-breaking question: "I'll never be a human like you Eve, will I?"

I looked down at an envelope with the name Jan Lucas Metelmann written on it in cursive letters.

"No." I committed sadly and before I could even come up with some encouraging words, Schrödinger stood up promptly, almost making me fall over again.

"I'm everywhere and nowhere." he said, looking down at me.

The intense smirk was seen when he said: "That's all I'll ever be."

My mouth opened and I struggled up from the floor, almost slipping on the scattered envelopes on the carpet because I wanted to say something disagreeing, but our conversation got interrupted by an incoming Rip Van Winkle who didn't bother to knock before bursting into my room.

"The red-head is dead, and her boyfriend too." she proclaimed gleefully, but minding her manners in my presence, since she knew that Naomi and Berry were my friends.

Then it hit me.

Naomi and Berry are dead.

Schrödinger stared at Rip Van Winkle in silence and even shock.

"What?" I merely said, not finding anything else to say.

"They made revolt." she stated shortly. "The bloke rose up against a guard for touching his girl and actually got him down on the floor. Red-head got eager and provoked her boyfriend to kill him but too bad four other guards were nearby. So many holes… It was an entire bloodied cheese factory out there I tell you!" Rip Van Winke explained while doing dramatic gestures with her slender hands. She stopped when she saw the expression on my face.

"Oh, my sweet girl…" she said and stepped closer to me. "I'm sorry." she said with genuine compassion in her eyes.

"Now it's just me – And Kevin." I said in panic, feeling my breathing escalate unhealthily. I looked around the room, the floor, all names and letters making my head spin. "We're only two left!" I whispered in terrified realization.

Schrödinger looked at me helplessly, a look of guilt painting his features even though he had nothing to do with this. Rip Van Winkle grabbed my face in her hands. "You're not just you, frauläin." she said seriously. "You made it this far – It must mean something, and we won't let anything happen to you, you understand?" she said, looking into my eyes with such convincement that I almost fell backwards.

She shot Schrödinger a glare. "Right, Catboy?" she asked him.

Schrödinger had not left me with his eyes; still looking at me, he smiled and nodded. He seemed so grown up then that I was almost scared of him. I said to Schrödinger: "I'm scared." He still smiled at me. "I'll make sure you're safe. I promise. I'm not scared." he said.

I was still scared but not as much. Rip Van Winkle smiled proudly at Schrödinger's words. Then, she turned to look at me.

"You must tell Zorin." she said, and my eyes darted at Schrödinger who looked down at the floor, ears twitching in their own protest.

"She's waiting for you in the classroom in about an hour." she said and let go of my face.

This might as well be the hardest decision of my life.

I was standing in a room with two people who were pulling on either of my arms in two opposite directions.

If flowers grew on this airship, I would've picked one up and, pull each of its flower petals off and say: "Tell Zorin. Do not tell Zorin." Every other time. Unfortunately, no flowers grew and a flower could not help me to decide my fate. Still, I were walking through the corridors alone, expecting a flower to pop up from the hard white floor.

On second thoughts; I would not ruin the flower.

I would've put it somewhere to honor Naomi.

I had prepared myself. I suppose you could put it two ways; I was either smart, or completely out of my mind.

Underneath my sweater rested the silver pistol that I've found in my drawer that no one knew about except for me and its previous owner.

It was tucked inside the hem of my trousers, felt cold against my skin and I didn't know if it was loaded or not.

I came to a sudden stop when I discovered a random door that was half open. I was aware that I had more important matters to attend to, but after dealing with five deaths in one week, I could sacrifice what might be my last opportunity to something interesting and half-fun. I peeked through the door.

It was a room, just an ordinary room with a bed. It looked to be a public restroom of some sort. It seemed to be empty. The idea of looking myself in here forever popped up in my head. It was such a dumb plan that I re-considered it and even extra-checked if the door could be locked from the inside.

I stepped into the room, taking in the atmosphere a little and breathed the air. It felt safe, so I closed the door but didn't have the nerve to lock it just yet.

"If I lock it, I'll stay here forever." I mumbled, making a inner deal with myself.

"Then what are you waiting for?" a voice whispered next to my ear. I jumped back into whoever it was behind me. The person embraced me, holding me steady, while I saw a big neat hand turn the lock until the door clicked.

"Kevin?" I frowned, familiar with his hand and his scent and his ways of touching me. I felt goosebumps on my skin, and not the pleasured ones.

"I've been waiting for you. I thought about looking after you, but it seems like there's no need for that now that you've find me." He turned me around, and I stared up into his blue eyes.

"You do realize that Naomi and Berry are dead?" I asked, confused by his selfish desires.

A deep frown could be seen on Kevin's face, but it didn't take long before he smiled at me again with his white teeth.

"That's right... That means that the two of us are the only one left." he said in an attempt to seduce me.

"Are you serious?" I breathed in disbelief, my breath hitting his chin and giving away the wrong signals.

"Are you?" he asked back, one of his eyebrows twitching in a confident way before he dived down and started to kiss my neck; leaving snail trails on my skin with his experienced wet muscle.

"N-no…" I cringed, not liking this at all. I placed my hand on his bony shoulders and pushed him away but he did not follow. "Live a little." he only said between sloppy kisses. I managed to get him off me when he noticed that my knee had interfered in his game, only then he pulled away.

"What's up with this? Are you playing hard to get or something?" he asked, still as excited as before. I shook my head. "I don't want to." I said, to which he frowned at and later on chuckled at. He looked behind him.

"Come on. Don't tell me it's the room? This is the best I could find. It even has clean sheets and soap and everything."

Like clean sheets and soap would make me say yes…

"Lydia." he said and grabbed me by my wrist, pulling me further into the room that didn't feel as safe as it once did. "I know you want this."

"How can you know what I want? I know my own body best." I protested and tried to yank my arm from his grip on my wrist.

"Then I'll make you want it." he said.

I was scared. Kevin wasn't the strongest man in the world but he was bodily bigger than me and almost ridiculously tall, so he could easily have his way with me if he insisted. I think he did, because before I could blink, I was pushed down onto the bed and he was straddling me, the bluest and most human eyes scanning my face in an animalistic manner.

My hands were free. My fingers reached up to touch his noticeable Adam's apple and traveled down almost all the way to his bellybutton, capturing his attention with his own dirty tactics. Then, my hand dropped and reached underneath my sweater to pull out the pistol. Kevin looked down curiously. "Oh? Look what you brought up in play..." he murmured playfully and chuckled, until I pointed it to his head.

"Get off me." I said almost humbly.

He was startled at first, but then he softened.

"You got any handcuffs with that?"

"It's real, now get off me!" I shouted at him, infuriated by his audacity, and he sat up slowly, putting his hands up.

"It looks fake." he thought out loud in a hopeful, but confident manner. "Is it even loaded?" he asked, and he almost fooled me, but I refused to back down now that I'd found a way to keep him under control.

"I don't want to do anything with you." I said. "I'm not like Miss Blitz."

"You're just talking" he smirked. "Your face is all red, and I bet you are even more excited than I am. Or else you would never have asked me to see you alone in the kitchen."

My index finger tested the trigger. I have never pointed a real gun at someone before, so I didn't know how hard the pull must be to even release a bullet, and I couldn't even tell if it was loaded or not. It really felt like Russian Roulette. If it was a real gun, and if it was loaded, I had a living life in my hand.

So this is how it feels like?

To be responsible of other people's life. Of human beings. Of prisoners.

To be a defender.

A guard. A soldier.

A murderer.

"I asked because I had to. I asked because-"

"You were curious." he interrupted, like he wasn't at all threatened and this was just a normal conversation in a strange abandoned room with clean sheets and soap, and he was still straddling me and I held a pistol to his face.

I examined Kevin's face. I had always found him attractive, out of my league. And now he had proved to me that no one is really perfect, even the ones that seems perfect. Especially those.

He said: "I can't blame you for that. All virgins are."

I pulled and boom.

It felt like my hand exploded and everything got wet and warm and I could feel something really heavy on top of my legs.

It was Kevin who lay there. Why did he lie down?

I put one and one together when my hand twitched and the pistol was still held in my hand. I knew it was the pistol even though I could not see it; I was lying down too with my head on the clean pillowcase.

I was staring up at the ceiling, my eyes blinking in a repeating state from shock. I didn't dare to sit up and see. I refused to believe that this happened.

"Kevin?" I asked. Kevin.

I moved the gun to my face to take a closer look at it. It felt much hotter than it did tucked in my pants, and when I saw a string of smoke leaving the pipe, I began crying.

Why did I do this?

What will happen to me now?

What will I tell Zorin?

The questions wouldn't stop coming. Whilst crying in the same manner like a little child, I closed my eyes as I began struggling to sit up.

His body felt like a ton on my own, and I couldn't pull my legs from underneath him without touching him with my hands. I don't know for how long I had struggled with this, but I eventually ended up pushing down Kevin's dead body on the floor.

Now my period had come to be one of my least problems.

"Oh boy…" Schrödinger whistled while he was staring down at the mess I had made.

He had lifted a finger to his lips in a wondering way, like he was trying to figure out what had happened, even though I had explained it to him more times than allowable, in details, over and over again.

I was sitting crying on the bed. I didn't stop until I heard him say: "We must tell someone."

"No! You can't do that!" I said to him, feeling my guilt and sadness get replaced with a selfish panic. I stood up from the bed and walked to stand next to him.

"There must be some other way." I pleaded and touched his arm vulnerably. Schrödinger wasn't looking at me. But despite having his attention on Kevin's dead body, he nodded in understanding.

"What are we gonna do?" I asked.

"I don't know." Schrödinger admitted dispassionately, and that answer scared me. Schrödinger looked at me and smiled. He was calm.

"We must get rid of his body." he said and I tried to be as calm as him and nodded bravely, but my hands couldn't stop shaking.

Schrödinger looked around the room. His eyes landed on the pistol on the bed.

"Is it loaded?" he asked whilst picking it up and examined it. He checked it with a natural urbane movement you could see that he was used to. "Yep." he answered his own question with a small chuckle and something clicked in the pistol when he reset it and I jumped at the noise even though it was harmless.

Schrödinger looked at me.

"I got an idea." he said and played around with the gun in his hands, and I nodded enthusiastically, willing to sign up for anything he had in mind that would spare me from trouble. He tossed me the gun which I caught clumsily and he stepped over Kevin's corpse and kneeled down.

He took out the knife I recognized as the weapon he had used to kill Jack with.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Whenever there was a knife with Schrödinger, it never ended well.

"A small sacrifice." he mumbled and slid the sharp blade nonchalantly on his wrist, but the cut was deep enough to elicit blood. I frowned in disliking. Immortal or not, the sight of Schrödinger injuring himself was never an appealing one.

He turned his wrist over and smudged it over the wound where the bullet had hit him on his temple, mixing their blood together.

"Such an awkward aim, Eve." he told me teasingly and grinned up at me with a full tooth smile whilst continuing with this occult thing. I couldn't help but blush. I suppose he was right, but maybe being bad at doing bad things isn't a bad thing?

"You must aim right this time." he said more seriously, struggling to pull Kevin's body up into a sitting position. My eyes widened.

"You want me to shot him again?" I asked startled. He couldn't be that cruel. Schrödinger laughed. "No silly!" he said, eyes closing in his grin.

He had managed to get Kevin so he was leaning on the side of the bed. Schrödinger was sitting in front of him, in-between his gangly legs like a pet. I backed away from the two of them a few steps with the pistol still in my hand, feeling like this situation got more and more disturbing.

"Eve." Schrödinger said in a voice settled enough to take him seriously.

"I want you to shot me." he said, and the urge to cry returned. "Eve." he assured. "I'll be fine. This is the only way if you don't want to tell someone."

I swallowed something in my throat.

"What if I miss the right spot?" I asked, but it sounded more like an excuse.

"You won't miss." he smiled. "Not this time; I'll tell you what to do." he said and tilted his head to gesture to the pistol. "Now take aim, nice and steady…" he said in a manner a parent teach their children new things.

I lifted the gun, and the same time, his head lollied up.

"If you close your eyes, you won't see what you're shooting. That's why you didn't hit Kevin properly, did you?" he asked and I opened my eyes to see him trying to conceal a laugh. "You're adorable - Now, do you see the centerpiece of the pipe? You see a small bulb at the end of it, in the middle?" he asked and I nodded again.

"Make sure it's between my eyes." he said, holding his gaze firmly on the pistol. I dropped my arm then.

"I can't do this Schrödinger." I warned.

"Yes you can." Schrödinger said back encouragingly and determined to make me succeed with this mission.

"Will it hurt you?" I asked with tears in my throat. When he saw that I was still hesitating, his eyes sharpened.

"Now you listen to me, Inmate." he ordered in a displeased murmur.

"I don't know what that Hellsing Organization is all about, but if you can't even handle a gun, then I'm surprised that you've made it this far. You've been forced to move on through all of this by escort. You'd spoken up to people, even though it could've cost you your life. You've seen your friends die. You almost got raped, and you killed that rapist with closed eyes. You only have one life - Don't let it go to waste just because you refuse to kill someone with uncountable."

My finger tested the trigger once again, but this time I felt like I had it in control.

"Now pull that trigger, until we meet again."

I didn't know what would happen after I shot him, but there was only one way to find out. It was to trust him, which I did. I took aim again and I pressed the trigger whilst maintaining eye contact, and they closed immediately after the boom.

I sank down on the floor in defeat even though I was the one who held the weapon in hand and had shot two people.

I don't know for how long I had been sitting there in silence, voluntarily blind by my own will to not see.

But when I finally dared to open my eyes, no one of them could be seen.

No traces of blood were visible.

It was just a strange empty room with clean sheets and soap.

Third time lucky, some say.

And perhaps those three words made me hold on to that gun. Of course, I didn't plan to shoot Zorin Blitz.

But having the little silver pistol in hand gave me the last confidence and courage I had to meet her in the evening class.

Perhaps for the last time.