UNTITLED VAMPIRE HUNTER D / HELLSING CROSSOVER
TAKE 4 : Time Ravaged Vagrant
The feast had already been well on its way by the time Alucard manifested in the main room which served as the macabre dining room; the victims lay strewn, half-tangled in nude repose on blood-stained sheets. The mirrors stretching from floor to ceiling reflected the glittering fire of chandaliers couldn't reflect D's figure, topped with the broad-rimmed hat, as he approached the remnants of a disastrous meal. The meal of a vampire.
Alucard crossed his arms, letting the empty semi-automatic clips fall clear to the floor. The modded Desert Eagles were reloaded before they struck the ground. "Could you be any more reckless? You eat like a dog, a witless, useless piece of shit animal. What a fool!"
D's sword whispered death's promise from its sheath as it slid out into the light. His eyes were fixed on a single point amidst the ruinous Hell of torn, blood-stained sheets. The death-like figure, poised like a vulture, raised his own eyes in return. A fleeting moment passed between the three. A tension, an electrifying unity that was only broken by ties of loyalty, and Alucard broke it with a deep, maniacal chuckle.
"Can you really believe that this lower life-form hasn't tried to run away?"
Master, a thought interrupted him. There's another fiend around there with you! Watch out!
A fourth figure descended from the night stars above. The vampire's power elevated to a noticable degree; Alucard took aim and fired, heedless of the tons of glass hovering precariously above them. The new figure contorted its body into pretzel shapes to avoid the hail of bullet all howling for his blood. Instead the bullets broke apart the tenuous glass above. When it touched ground, it was immediately in motion again. It was a man with dark, cropped black hair and darkened lips, eyes as dramatic and emotionless as a painting.
Three foot shards of glass rained down from above. Alucard sneered as his attacker advanced. He was impressively swift; the Midian gave him his props by landing a single shot through one dagger the bloodsucker was wielding. The dagger shattered, but its point was its own projectile, firing with bizarre accuracy for Alucard's eye.
It pierced through; he mused over the sharp pain, the hot wetness pouring down his cheek. He puzzled over the peculiar numbness. His adversary had somehow managed to land the first hit. Oh, my.
Seras telepathically cried out for him. But Alucard merely batted her worrying cries away. As his opponent lunged toward him with that ferocious speed, he effortlessly side-stepped and cracked the butt of his Jackal against the back of his head which, to his satisfaction, made a bonedeep crunch. A shard of glass penetrated his arm, nearly severing it totally, but he still managed to swivel his opposite arm into place to fire at his shifty friend again. He was beginning to get annoyed; all this effort and the bastard was already half-dead. Why did they have to be so stubborn?
He glanced with his one good eye at the dhampir. The sight was slightly distorted due to the falling glass, which acted like fun-house mirrors, skewed lenses that made the hunter's movements appear rather dream-like. Alucard's heart ached; the other opponent was already perished, his body impaled on a silver sword in the pale moonlight. The body was then severed crotch to skull in a brilliant fountain of glistening crimson, like rubies cast into the air. He had somehow missed the entire battle; he doubted there even was one.
Brilliant, he mused with a sigh. How brilliant. Pierce my heart with that blade and I will bow down and call you... what?
With a sweep of the blade, D whipped the blood from his weapon.
Alucard danced a half-step around his opponent; he was gone one moment, behind his enemy the next, and unleashed the killing shot to the heart. He had been almost totally stationary during the ordeal. But his enemy surprised him again; the shot didn't incapacitate him long enough to prevent a desperate attempt to hurt him again. Alucard wanted to laugh at him; instead, he uttered a bored little sigh and took the dagger to the ribcage without a hitch.
"Pathetic," he started to complain again, when he saw a blinding shape, a terrible winged bird of prey descend upon him from above. He barely turned to fire when he felt a coldness wash over him - it was D, blocking the blow of yet a third vampire, whose eyes shown the keen, cunning intelligence of a older-gen vampire.
By now, Alucard's injuries were utterly gone. His gaze, coolly and unfalteringly fixed on D, waited for the next phase of battle. The man in front of them now was hardly intimidating. The last shards of glass had fallen for now, and the footsteps of the newcomer delicately crunched the bits beneath solid heels. The vampire D had killed was nothing more than an advanced body-guard. The dagger-wielding fiend was just the same. This creature of darkness seemed dressed to slaughter; four-inch thick heels, flowing, short skirt, slender-waist and slight of build with a pale white frock and dinner jacket, this - gentleman - appeared no more impressive than his advanced children.
He was most definitely a man, though beautiful enough to be a woman. The specs on the report had suggested the vampire could have been either.
D reset his stance; Alucard noted respectfully the intensity with which he stood. His whole body relaxed; underlying all that devil-may-care, such power that it made Alucard vaguely dizzy. Hmm, can't get distracted.
Seras tittered, The head vampire? Looks like a total slag!
Comments to yourself, Seras, Alucard droned. "That's all you have to offer me? Why don't you just push them into traffic and watch them splatter?"
"They were my best in years," the cross-dresser sighed, chewing a knuckle pensively. "A shame, a dirty shame. I want you to know you're all going to die for this. What animals you are!"
"Said one monster to another," Alucard quipped, reloading, leveling a single barrel at the fiend's heart. "Give me one reason to make this quick. Otherwise you will be dying slowly."
D stepped aside respectfully; there was no crinkling glass underneath him. Alucard smile seemed to deepen maliciously. If it was even possible, his face could only be described as festering malice sprinkled with abhorrance. Suddenly he lifted his weapon away, and recieved a sudden quiet intrusion to his mind. He realized that it was D's mind, thinking too loudly.
Now I see with my own eyes the downfall of the Nobility. Reckless, bold, and stupid. Any Noble would have run away by now, sensing inevitable defeat. The thoughts themselves were an unbarricaded lake of emotions and impressions. Foremost of all was sadness and a smidgen of disgust. It's as if they're aching to throw their lives away...
"Kill him!" Alucard hissed, trembling as the words sunk in, too close to him, close enough to make things inside of him suddenly twinge and ache. It was challenging to withhold the thoughts bursting to come free. "Kill the worthless filth! He doesn't deserve to walk the same earth as we do!"
D needed no such encouragement. If there was any hesitation, it was lost in the speed with which he moved. In five seconds, D had perforrated the vampire's body with dozens of precise, devestating sword thrusts. He cut off the fiend's retreat as he tried to escape, beheaded it, and impaled the heart again. This time, he let the body fall, crushing the skull underneath his boot.
Somehow, that cruelty did not seem to suit D's character that well at all.
He clicked his tongue, turning away to leave, even as he thought, Would it be throwing one's life away for one last bet, one last gamble for a death well earned? I am damned beyond redemption. My only reward being the death and annihilation of scant peons such as these...
"Master!" Seras Victoria cried in alarm, pointing urgently as she burst through a medieval doorway to his left. "Look out! It's D!"
The battle may have begun sooner than expected. No sooner had the Midian turned to spy the retreating figure of D than the recollection of Integra's voice broke my concentration. "Kill him," she had said. "And this time, you will not let him escape. Alucard, this is your last opportunity to regain my trust. If you can't do this then I might be forced to lock you away as my father did before me."
Alucard's eyes focused. He reached for the detonator dangling from his neck and toyed with it. The situation rang with promise, but he couldn't fight him NOW, it was too soon...
"MASTER!!" Seras ran ahead, poised the Harkonnen for firing. "Tell me to shoot! Master, please!" Her eyes narrowed, but she too was hesitating. Somehow that dhampir had wormed his way into her mind, filled it with doubt, with attachment. Damn him!
"Shut up, you simpering cow," he snarled at herm, infuriation tearing apart his kindness like tissue paper in a gale wind. His body disappeared into the floor, an inkstain in the darkness.
Why must this rest with me? Alucard narrowed his eyes, put on his game face, and gave chase.
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A disembodied voice filled D's mind. It was not Alucard's: "So, now that we've left them a little surprise, are you sure you wanna go walking out like you are?"
"I don't seem to have any other choice. I won't assume it will be easy." He seemed to be speaking to no one in particular; anyone watching him run and talk to himself would find it awfully bizarre.
"Your crazy friend is on your tail again! He's one fast son of a bitch!"
D sheathed his sword. The mausoleum's hallways were quite simple, really. They provided another exit to the outside. He had a ridiculously huge headstart. Perhaps it was Alucard's way of toying with him, giving him false hope, before ripping it right out from under--
The dhampir threw himself to the ground, barely escaping the blazing crosshairs of automatic machine guns mounted in the walls. An entire section of wall reduced to crumbling stones. He had been reckless enough to forget about the laser sensors. His feet had crossed them and triggered the defensive response. He lay still until the whirring of guns had ceased, before launching himself to his feet. He took four steps before stopping an inch in front of a familiar face.
"Just when I'd put it below you to run away," Alucard greeted cheerfully, sliding a hand along the broken wall before letting it hang at his side. "Just when I had thought there was hope for you yet, you pull something vastly more idiotic than I'd have given you credit for. What kind of monster are you?"
D stepped back, eyeing the device grasped in Alucard's white-gloved hand. The chrome of the white Desert Eagle looked like brackish ice in the darkness. He said nothing, acknowledging his own weakness; the slumber had robbed him of much of his stamina. He was already tired. He did not say so out loud, but hated that tremble in his limbs. He would not have Alucard mistake it for fear.
"I know you're not afraid of me," Alucard answered instead, tipping his head back, thick mane of black hair framing his crazed eyes and manic smile. "Which... puzzles me. I can blow you to meaty chunks and it doesn't seem to bother you. On the other hand, I somehow doubt that a single shot from this gun can kill you. Which should I try first?"
Still D maintained his silence. His breathing evened out, quieting in the reverberating corridors of stone.
"Maybe you're counting on the fact that I wanna keep you alive. So I can fight you. Is that it?" He scratched his jaw with the detonator, puzzling it out without a care in the world.
"I removed them," D murmured suddenly. "They're in the main room under the struts. I cut them out during the battle, when you weren't paying attention."
This time, Alucard took the time to puzzle this out. What an interesting fellow. He was basically saying that if Alucard really wanted to try blowing him to meaty chunks, as he said, he ran the risk of actually blowing up Seras and everyone else who happened to be in that room. Yet at the same time, D seemed intimately confident that Alucard wouldn't dare blow up his astute, future adversary. He beat his brain against the problem, while his heart shuddered at the solution. You clever, clever little half-blood...
The Midian's crazed smile slowly relaxed. It was for his own amusement that he considered pressing the button, just to see what would happen. The bluff was working, damn it, and Alucard hated that he knew D knew it. The bastard had a devil's poker face. Not a single smile cracked that stony visage. But his musical voice seemed to want to convince him of the truth. Too bad he knew that game, the trick was his long before this punk ever sought to use it.
"Maybe it was better when you didn't speak," he repeated, harkening back to their earlier conversation. He was slowly beginning to replace the detonator to a pocket, eyeing the frozen D, whose eyes seemed to wantonly gaze directly into his own. Fool! Doesn't he know I can read him like a book that way? But the longer he stared, the more he felt himself drawn in... pulled forward by the force of his gaze. But the same seemed to work against D. His own influence, that magneticism that worked only between their own kin, drew D closer. Their ends of their hats were dreadfully close to brushing each other.
Instinctive gut-reactions really did work in a pinch. Alucard's trigger-finger seemed to be minding its own business, pulling the trigger. The crash of gunfire was startlingly deafening in that tiny space. It ripped a gigantic hole in D's left shoulder, impotently avoiding his heart. The grunt of pain surprised Alucard, thus made aware of a chink in the man's armor. Maybe he was not as impervious as he put himself out to be. The No-Life King staggered backwards; the blow D attempted had hurt him. There was a peculiar stinging, but he ignored it.
The sword was drawn a millisecond before they touched the ground. The blade itself buried an inch thick into the floor; he had missed his mark. It was nearly impossible to get a good stab in close quarters like this. Alucard effortlessly flung him upwards, slammed him into the ceiling, and took him down again, burying a volley of bullets into his body on the way.
"Down," he ordered stiffly. "You're still too weak to play in my ball game, and you're in no position to be bluffing." He sat on his bleeding chest. With a single shot, he severed the dhampir's sword hand from his arm and thus disabled him for awhile. He leaned close, while pulling him up from the floor by the lapels of his duster. A lustful, angry demon possessed his body; his heart was pounding in his ears. If he had not been so careful, D might have actually stuck that sword of his straight into his head and that would have been vastly more uncomfortable than the dagger-point.
He sank his teeth into the other's lower lip, felt the immortal flesh spring open. A gush of red sweetness burst into his mouth. He quivered, shoving the 13mm barrel underneath D's jaw as he sucked hard at the bite. He wasn't sure if it was D groaning from the experience. Blood was a conduit through which the soul could travel; he felt elation, excitement. He gained a primitive level of knowledge, a warped understanding of what D felt as he pulled at the wound. D knew sorrow and pain and beauty; Alucard's familiars were hatred, malice, pure darkness. The contrast was terrifying.
It was pure ecstacy. He would have died a hundred times to taste it all over again, to feel it all over again, and yet he would have given anything to never have done so in the first place. It seduced him so far away from reality he almost lost himself. Coarse, brutal hands were shoving against his chest. The Midian broke free, and cracked his mouth in a wide, maniacal grin. D's eyes were a smoky glass blue; blood loss was sapping his strength greatly. Alucard stroked his lips with his greedy tongue one final time before forcing him to the floor to stay.
He let himself recover, pulling himself out of the breathless, panting swoon, before he dared to contact Seras. I got him. Bring me a stretcher for our friend and a pint of blood for me.
The accusing red-tinted eyes of the dhampir only served to feed Alucard's amusement. His bloodied lip had healed already, his regenerative prowess impressive beyond compare. Even his hand, which had been severed at the start, had reattached itself to his arm.
"You'll get your chance," he promised, taking off his crimson fedora and threading a bloodied hand through his hair. "Our battle will come, only I will be the one to decide, little bat."
He hung back from the crowd as the black-cloaked figure was carted away on his stretcher. He sucked at a pint of blood if only to wash the taste from his mouth. The wind from an early winter storm blew back his cloak, revealing his hand which was stubbornly clutching the detonator. The crimson vampire lord gave the detonator a single glance... then it struck the ground, crushed to dust beneath his heel. His lips quivered as he grinned; it was the next act of disobedience of a long line that would lead to his final unspeakable deception. He would face Integra Hellsing's wrath when it came.
"Master," Seras called plaintively. She was probably still sore about being called a simpering cow, but it wasn't in her nature to dwell. She was his, among the only shining stars in his eternal night. She approached, cautiously; once she was within reach, he seized her around the waist and pulled her close, brutally kissing her mouth and silencing her worries. The police girl melted, eyes wide with excitement. She didn't know whether to cling tightly or let her arms hang limply.
"Don't ask me anything," he ordered her. He stroked her forehead with one digit and knew she would always obey.
"Master..." She clenched her teeth, worry etching into her very being, making her starkly beautiful. His poor, only child. She had an intuitiveness that was annoying. He bared his soul to no one, but she had those eyes of hers; those penetrating, beseeching eyes. For a moment, the once-Count wished desperately that he could tell her - tell her everything, of his tiredness, his boredom, his great and desperate desire to be done with it all.
But she, least of all, would understand.
"Little one," he soothed, in a surprising swing of kindness. "Don't you dare lose this innocence of yours."
"You... look sad." His fledgling trembled slightly, before looking down, pulling on his scarf. "N-Nevermind! We're going home, right? What about Mr. D?"
"We'll let our master worry about him for now." When that satisfied her, they walked to the van and were driven back to town. A light snow began to fall, despite that the moon was still a glowing disk in the pre-winter sky.