In the precise moment of Integra's laugh, William is searching for Eric Dantes. As he walks the corridors, he can't help but notice the walls crawling with spidery shadows cast by the moon. He nears the library; the lone fire in the room responsible for lighting the corners of the vast space, stretches and flexes its heat, fighting for dominance, only to be beat back into submission by the dark.
William has never been comfortable in the dark. Too many childhood stories made true by his adult reality. He's learned this since joining Eric Dante's security detail: the dark is a place for the inhuman. The dead. After this final job, William plans on resigning and moving to some place warm and sunny.
The young man spots two figures in the library, one involved in a game of chess on a mechanized board. The other attends.
The player's face is stony, impassive as he calculates his move. His face so void of emotion, William almost passes the room, halting only at the sound of Dantes unmistakable voice.
"...only a matter of time," William stops his clipped walk, peering into the gloom.
Michard Schrute replies, "arrangements have been finalized. Is there anything else you want me to look into prior?"
The floorboard under William's foot squeaks.
Michard straightens up, clears his froggy throat, face thinly veiling contempt.
William's sense of self-preservation tells him to bolt, but he was told Dantes had a message for him. He figures Michard is creepy at best, but certainly no physical threat to a muscular young man like himself.
"Eric," William begins.
Dantes turns from his game and stares through William, coldly, pinning him to the wall. William's breath hitches.
One second passes. Two.
Dantes then smiles warmly, as though it took him those moments to recognize one of his head security staff. "Ahh, William...I've been expecting you. Please come in."
Relieved, he complies without hesitation.
"What did you think of our guest today?"
William's brow furrows. "The woman? She was attractive."
Dantes pauses before answering, his gaze back on the board.
"Yes, that lovely creature is Sir Integra Hellsing."
"She's the head of the Hellsing family?" William sounds doubtful.
Dantes laughs. "Yes, she's young, beautiful, and intelligent to boot. You understand her organization is the key to securing this last artifact. You'll be seeing more of Integra Hellsing in the days to come. She is our biggest ally, make sure you treat her as such."
"Yes, my mistake," William replies.
Dantes watches his invisible adversary make its move.
"Tomorrow we'll be meeting more of her staff for the upcoming job. I want you to run the briefing. Will you accept?"
William's eyes widen. "Absolutely Eric. Thank you for the opportunity."
"Of course." Dantes smiles thinly. "Michard will provide you with more details on their staff. Your job is to familiarize them with what we mapped out at our last strategy session."
"If you'll come with me," Michard nods to William and turns to leave the room.
William exits behind Michard, back into the dark, as Dante's voice floats down the corridor.
"We're counting on you William, don't disappoint us."
William suppresses a shudder as Dantes claims the queen.
—
There are no dreams tonight. Tonight she is peaceful. Tonight she sleeps the sleep of the dead.
Sheets twine up bare thighs like sun seeking clematis. Her menswear pajama top barely covers the rise of flesh where thighs meet buttocks. Belly down, head askance, face slack, tranquil. She appears years younger. Her bible lies closed on her nightstand. Glasses flung haphazardly on its leather cover. She isn't aware of the moon casting spidery shadows on her walls.
A visitor would notice.
He would notice her stemmy legs, eyes lingering over the fleshy peak of her ass. He would notice her wild hair stuck to her cheek.
Lovely lavender eyelids. Thin eyelids. Flushed by miniature capillaries. Capillaries worming toward ropey vessels, veins. A delicious artery in the groin.
Just a sample. A taste
Dead sleep.
Peaceful sleep.
There are no dreams tonight.