Well shit. He mops his wetly ridged brow with the back of his hand. Twenty pairs of expectant eyes peer unblinkingly from behind flat-screen monitors in the bunker's briefing room. It wasn't the blue or brown or green irises that bothered him. It was that one pair of red, and perhaps the fact that their owner had melted up from the floor into the middle of the heavy tables, walking through the wood casually and smiling; like he was taking a happy stroll back from the shitter.
He'd been on a roll with the Wild Geese, introducing himself as their captain on this assignment while Pip Bernadotte was overseas. The mercenaries had laughed at his ghoul jokes, and that juicy little Seras had smiled and nodded through the whole thing. Things were flowing smoothly; he had just finished detailing the grounds and shift switches with the B squad, and then Big Red shows up and steals the show, right in front of Eric and ice-queen Hellsing. The unblinking eyes move closer. William finds himself looking up. How tall is this freak? He breaks the stare and surveys the room; many of Hellsing's troops are grinning widely now.
"Status report, Captain Davis," a black growl crawls up the vertebrae in William's spine. William blinks his eyes against Alucard's gaping maw. From the corner, a man guffaws. William almost doesn't hear it, the red mouth in front of him seems to dwarf the entire room. He stares into the sharp cavern as the seconds seem to slow and stop altogether. Against his better judgment he leans closer. What would happen if I stuck my gun in there?
"Alucard," a deep female voice blankets the room and it is magnetic. The men in the room sit up. Seras' head snaps toward the back. William slides his gaze to Integra Hellsing standing from her chair, the light from the monitors reflecting off her glasses, shielding her eyes. He feels a great pressure release as Alucard turns slowly and bows to Integra.
She glowers at him momentarily. "Come," she says and stalks from the room. Alucard lurches toward the door, but not before awarding his ever-present grin to his captive audience. With each step, William can breathe more freely, his body relaxes, he seeks Dantes' eyes for assent to resume debriefing.
He still feels like he's floating somewhere above the men in the room, his voice sounds disjointed and far away. In a flash Alucard's face is upon him, blocking his view, his voice mocking, breath like raw hamburger, "William Davis...are you a dog, or a man, Captain Davis?" The voice hisses and evaporates like steam from a hot kettle. The vision abruptly vanishes and William slides back into his body, greeted by expectant eyes and faces.
He looks at the clock. Squad C briefing begins in 10 minutes. He still has to cover cleanup. He mops his wetly ridged brow with the back of his hand.
Well, shit.