Hey everyone, this will be my first fanfic ever and my first Hellsing fic. Try to be nice, alright? I've never been the best writer, but I hope you all will like it. Sorry ahead of time for any grammar or spelling mistakes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or any of the characters.
Chapter One
"Men I've just learned of a plant being used for the production of man-made vampires." A young man announced to the group of men sitting at the table around him. he sat up straight with his arms crossed.
"Is that even possible...!? Man-made Vampires!? Sir Hellsing?" a man at the table questioned nervously.
"One would certainly think it to be impossibility. Ventures of this magnitude are not easily accomplished." Sir Hellsing replied to the man. The whole room looked around in shock. "None the less." Sir Hellsing started. "Even good for nothing defects...are adequate enough to fight this war." Sir Hellsing hinted.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Ghouls." Sir Hellsing told the man as he rested his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. "Through our source at MIG, we've learned that a task force of unusual doctors, who are specialists in the paranormal...have spared no efforts to expedite results and turn fantasy into reality." Sir Hellsing briefed the group.
"So this fantasy, you refer to are these "ghouls," correct? What exactly are they?" someone asked.
"They are failures who've unsuccessfully attempted to become full-fledged vampires; they are nothing more than "living dead" that feast upon the flesh of corpses. You might say... they're something like zombies found in voodoo." Sir Hellsing replied. "They possess monstrous strength, but their movements are slow... and their brain's reaction time is also significantly retarded." Sir Hellsing informed as he looked over everyone. "Dealing with one or two Ghouls at a time should pose little to no problem for us."
"Where the difficulties start to arise... are if the Nazis decide to use their Ghouls in the field. If that was to happen, the worst-case scenario would be..." sir Hellsing paused. "One in which the Schutzstaffel decides to deploy them systematically, in numbers, on the front-lines." Sir Hellsing finished. "Though the ghouls are relatively failures they're still "monsters." Meaning they can't be killed easily. It takes a shot to the head or heart to effectively put them down." Sir Hellsing started to explain. "The other problem is if you're attacked by Ghouls you become a Ghoul yourself. That is how they grow infinity." Sir Hellsing continued. "1 turns into 2 which soon leads to doubles to make 4, which turns into 8, 8 then turns into 16, 16 into 32, 32 into 64... 64 into 128, 128 into 256, 256 into 512, 512 into 1024, 1024 into 2048, 2048 into 4096 and so on."
"They are ever increasing in "geometric progression" with each meal. They just keep growing and growing, increasing more and more, like an endless plague." Sir Hellsing spoke. All of the men in the room gasped. "Front-line forces eradicated...and the green grass of the battlefield is soon after replaced by ardent flames of hell." Sir Hellsing finished somewhat dramatically.
"We recently received word that on the western front near Germany, the German army Group B... is currently planning to launch an offensive, according to another one of our sources." Another man announced. "If their insanity-fueled laboring comes to fruition, and those monsters are deployed. We'll, no doubt, be ousted from Dunkirk back to the icy waters of the northern sea." The man added. "This time however, we may not have the energy, or manpower left to fight another battle like Normandy. We shall have to carry out monumental tasks with absolute precision if we want the state of the war to continue as it is now."
"If we fail the gears of war will be downshifted, and we'll suddenly find ourselves all the way back to June 22, 1940." The man finished.
"I guarantee you that won't happen!" sir Hellsing yelled as he slammed his hand down on the table. "I'll deal with them a blow laced with such unforeseen severity that their taste for war will diminish along with their sordid existences! We'll crush those mongrel krauts were they stand!" sir Hellsing bellowed and slammed his fist on the table. "This is what Hellsing was founded for. It is our long-awaited mission." Sir Hellsing said. "Preparations are already well underway." Sir Hellsing informed as he slid a picture over to the man across from him.
"Hellsing's sending the most suitable man for the job." Sir Hellsing said as the man across from him grabbed the picture. "This guy was born to bury the dead." Sir Hellsing said as the man across from him looked down at the picture.
"He's... he's but... he's but a child!" the man said in surprise.
"Child or not he is the strongest human of our existing militants in the field qualified to deal with such inhuman foes." Sir Hellsing responded with a crazed smile.
"And his name?" another man asked as he looked at sir Hellsing. "Walter... Walter C. Dornez. Aka Walter- the angel of death!"
(Meanwhile flying over the general vicinity of Warsaw, Poland)
"Swaddy... rise and shine." A voice called to a man with his eyes closed and a cigarette in his mouth, leaning back against the wall of the plane. "Oi, dough boy! Wake up!" the voice called louder to the man making him open his eyes to see a shadowed figure. "Toss me one of those coffin nails." The figure ordered. When the man didn't move the figure tried again. "Tobacco I say!" the figure demanded the man.
"Wha-what in the Sam hill!?" the man stuttered in surprise. "This stuff ain't for young brats like you!" the man exclaimed. The figure grinned before taking his wires and wrapping them around the pack of cigarettes inside of the man's jacket. The figure then swiftly pulled the pack of cigarettes out of the man's jacket and pulled it back. "What's going on!?AHHH!" the man yelled as he watched the cigarettes fly out of his jacket and land in the figures hand. "AHHH! Kno-Knock it off!" the man cried out as the figure took a cigarette from the pack and put a lighter up to it.
The figure put the cigarette to his mouth and took a drag. The figure then pulled the cigarette away and breathed out a puff of smoke. "This cigarette tastes God awful." The figure said as he put the cigarette back in his mouth and looked at the pack. ""American spirits" brand, made in the U.S.A." the figure muttered as he read it.
"Hey, we're in the midst of a war and have to make do with what we've got, so stop bitching about it!" the man lectured.
The figure laughed, "Smoking tobacco supplied by Yankees... and we're here flying aboard a plane furnished by the Yankees." The figure started to say. "What a shame that, without the help of those "cowboys" and "monsters"... we can no longer fight a flat-out honorable, fair and square war." The figure finished dryly. "The empire of Great Britain, which once had the entire world in the palm of its hand, has fallen to such depths of desperation" the figure laughed as the light from the moon shined on his face. The figure was a young 14-year-old boy with short black hair and grey eyes, wearing standard butler attire with a pair of black combat gloves. "Quite sad, wouldn't you agree Alucard?" the boy asked, looking at a black coffin lying on the floor behind him.
Just then the boy turned to look out the window of the plane, "Ahh, just look at it." he muttered. "Have a good one, soldier... this is our stop. Bye-bye!" The boy said as he walked over to the door to the plane.
"What!?" the soldier panicked, "Wait! Hey kid, hang on a sec. Take a parachute with you. A parachute..." the soldier said to the boy.
"Keep it, I don't need it." The boy told the soldier nonchalantly and used his wires to slice through the steel of the plane, and kicked it, causing shards of metal to explode outwards. "Cheerio."
"Alright then, guess it's time to get to work, Alucard." The boy said as he pulled the coffin towards the door inanimately.
"W-wait a minute, sonny!" the soldier called, the boy stopped and look at him with disinterest. "I'm admittedly ashamed to say that I, as an adult and veteran much older than you, can't say or do a thing to help you out boy." The soldier started. "Unfortunately, it looks like everything rests in your hand from this point on!" The soldier finished. The boy smirked, "yes sir! Sarn't sir!" he responded with a cheerful smile and made the victory symbol.
The boy then kicked the coffin out of the plane. He immediately jumped out of the plane behind it, laughing. "My name is the angel of death. We are Hellsing!" the boy yelled. "Enemies of the world beware, for we come to uproot you all!" he continued to yell as he flew through the air.
- (back at the Hellsing manor)
Three young men where gathered in a slightly messy study (A.N: he has another butler so It's not as messy as in the manga or episode). One of the men was Arthur Hellsing who was standing in front of his desk. Another was his friend Sir Hugh Irons who was situated on the one of the couches. The third man was tall with black hair that ends at his shoulders with wavy bangs falling over his blue eyes. The young man wore black trousers, a six-button double-breasted tailcoat that was left open, with a white Barrymore shirt and a red tie. His name is William and he is currently head butler to the Hellsing family.
"Uprising polish military resistance and just around the corner, soviet forces are advancing. The German Wehrmacht laying siege..." Sir Arthur said as William served Irons a cup of tea. "Warsaw is in a turbulent state equivalent to the bottom of a witch's cauldron." he continued.
"Quite right, but Arthur..." Sir Irons paused as he brought his tea to his mouth. "Your study is as mussed as the war situation." he pointed out before taking a sip of his tea.
"I apologize for the mess." William said with a slight bow.
"No, it's not old chap, It's perfectly organized." Arthur said with a laugh. Just then William walked past him with a stack of plates and bowls. "Alright so maybe it is a bit messy..." Arthur admitted in embarrassment. "But as we speak one of our butlers' stirring up the bottom most bowls of that very Witch's cauldron." Arthur added as he moved to sit down on the couch across from his friend.
"Which leads me to ask... Why the younger one?" Irons asked. Arthur looked towards the door as William left to take care of the dishes.
"William, while an incredibly skilled fighter, isn't nearly as skilled at taking out hordes like Walter is. Their preferred weapons also helped me fuel my decision." Arthur explained. "William is good at infiltration, he's precise, and light on his feet. However, unlike Walter who can take out hordes of enemies at a time with his mono-filament wires, William can only take out a hand full or two at a time." he added.
"In other words, William is more of a bodyguard or a spy." Irons deduced.
"Not necessarily. I've sent William on many dangerous assignments when Walter was younger and he's always excelled, I just felt this assignment would be a bad match for him, seeing as we don't know how many ghouls they have currently." Arthur said as he picked up a bottle of whisky off the floor. "Trust me though when I say William would have preferred to go in place of his little brother." he added as he opened the bottle.
"Enough drinking, Arthur. We're in a state of emergency; these are dire times!" Irons scolded.
"I think it's safe to say we've been in a state of emergency for five years now!" Arthur said loudly. "which is why it's time to down this water of life and regain our vigor!" he added as he suddenly leaned over and poured some whisky into Iron's tea.
"What in gods name are you doing you blooming twat?!" Iron's yelled as William returned to the room. William paused by the door and looked back and forth between the two men. He then spotted the bottle of Whisky and immediately made his way over to Arthur. William swiftly plucked the bottle from his master's hand.
"William?! What are you doing?!" Arthur asked as William walked away with the bottle. Arthur stood up as William got closer to the door. "William you bring that back right now!" Arthur yelled as he stood up in panic but just as he did William turned and glared at him. Irons watched as Arthur slowly sat back down. William then exited the room once more.
"Damn him..." Arthur said in a fearful tone.
"I'm guessing the bottle of whisky wasn't authorized by your butler." Irons said with a smug smile.
"Shut up." Arthur said in irritation which just made Irons laugh. "He's doing this because he's angry. He always does things like this when I send Walter out on dangerous assignments." Arthur added as he glanced at the door. "He does little things that he knows annoys me and takes my alcohol and to make matters worse I have to put up with it until Walter returns... but enough of that, what's the news?"
"The transport planes should be well within Warsaw airspace by now." Irons informed his friend.
"and our lad along with that 'thing' is likely to have already deplaned and landed." Arthur added.
"Are you quite sure about that?" his friend asked skeptically. "If this fails..."
"Not a chance." Arthur replied with a laugh. "You realize the extent of his power, don't you?" he asked with a smirk. Just then the door of Arthur's study slammed open startling the two men. Arthur turned his head to see his furious butler.
"I thought I told you to stop inviting women over!" William yelled causing Arthur and Irons to shrink back.
"But William..." Arthur started before William interrupted.
"No, you listen here." his butler said in a serious tone as he walked in. "Having your flings over is one, a bad influence on my brother, and two a major breach in security." William added as he stalked closer making Arthur slide over to the farthest side of the couch. "I allow many things, but this is not one of them. No one except for relatives and the round table are allowed at this estate without first speaking with me. Even the few soldiers and guards on the estate must be interrogated by me before I allow them to step foot in the manor. Do I make myself clear." William finished in a cold tone as he leaned forward.
"Crystal." Arthur said fearfully with his hands up in front of his face in surrender.
"Good. If for whatever reason you want to have an actual relationship with a women other than a fling then we will talk about letting her come over but only after I have determined she will not be a security risk." William added before standing up straight. Irons and Arthur watched as William immediately started cleaning up the room. Arthur sat up slowly still afraid his butler would turn around and lecture him again. However, now it was Irons' turn to lecture Arthur.
"You bastard, and when serious royal affairs are at hand, no less..." Iron said in a cold tone. "you Prat... You chuffing bollock-brained git! I've known you were a bleeding daftie since our fresher years at Oxford but... I didn't think you were as complete and incorrigible a daftie as that!" Iron's yelled. William ignored the two as he cleaned, he had already said everything he wanted to.
"Stuff it and Piss off. Already have someone breathing down my neck about the issue like he's my fucking mum! I don't need another one!" Arthur yelled.
"You arsehole, Walter's out there in the thick of it, fighting on the battlefield at this very moment!" Irons yelled. "you should be less concerned with women and a bit more concerned about him!" He added. Arthur laughed and grabbed his empty whisky glass.
"We needn't worry about the Angel of Death." Arthur said as he looked over the glass in his hand. "Listen Irons, Walter, appropriately nicknamed 'the angel of death' is a force that's beyond our wildest imaginations." Arthur continued. "Do you get the picture now Irons?" He asked with a smirk. Just then a throw pillow hit Arthur in the back of head. Both men looked in the direction of the only other person in the room. They watched as William cleaned as if nothing happened.
I know I'm pretty much just rewriting Hellsing: The Dawn for my first couple of chapters but bear with me it just fit so well and gives me the chance to introduce William. Well that and because I just love Walter. I'll be starting the real story after these events play out.