A/N: There is a lot I refer to in this that will be cleared up by reading my other Hellsing fic. Continuing this due to the enjoyability of sitting in the mindset of a slightly insane vampire.

Let me start by asking you to suspend your disbelief, your preconceptions, what you have heard about my kind.

We do not fear holy objects, for that is a superstition started by the ignorant.

We do not lurk about in the dark, affected by sunlight. Only the weak and newly turned are harmed by the sunlight; the rest of us find it annoying, since our eyes are highly sensitive.

We do not wantonly attack and feed off people in the streets. Most of us have discrete tastes, more do not even drain their 'victims', prefering to dine on small amounts of blood offered freely by friends; and once we are released from the servant bonds, we are capable of eating any number of things, though we derive no nourishment from them. I myself enjoy a good dish of goulash once in a while, though blood is what drives my body.

We are not emotionless, evil creatures. We feel the same things we did as humans, as do those born as vampires. It is a relic of all rational beings, all creatures capable of more than instinctual thought, feelings. Evil is something that some of us choose to be. It can be fun at times.

I ask you to remember these things as I relate the following tales to you, for those objects will be vital to the stories.

For this one, I had been asked to a ball by a seventeen year old girl. It was something that I had not partaken in for the better part of two centuries. Well, if you discount that night with Mina. What a disaster that was.

Integra stood in front of me, her amazingly mature face set in the lines that would brook no argument. "I may have to attend this bloody function, and a familiar face would be more than welcome. Walter can't make it, and I don't know anyone else here that I trust enough."

I wanted her to understand that I didn't do dances. The thought of all that blood, the chances to evoke fear in people's souls, it would be difficult to resist. And she would surely put me on probation as a result. Not that it would affect me, but she would probably keep me cooped up in the manor instead of letting me out to hunt down FREAKS and ghouls, a pastime I had come to enjoy in the last several years.

"Master, if you command it, it will be done, but I do not relish the thought of several hours in formal attire listening to what your generation calls music, holding myself in check. Find another to do it."

Her face narrowed. A bad sign.

"I am not asking you, Alucard. I am telling you."

Well, so much for getting out of that one. Though I find that on a deep level I particularly didn't want to object too much. I have these times when being evil isn't exactly something I want to do, to act a little less insane, less evil. Like that time with the Belmonts. Simon Belmont had taken it upon himself to rid the land of me and tried twice and thought he had succeeded, because of the same superstitions I had told you about. His descendants continued to attack at intervals through the years. It got so annoying I finally posed as my son, calling myself Alucard and aided them in 'destroying' myself for all time.

And now I find myself under that name again, feigning a way of life again. The cycles of life.

I suppose I should clarify something. By our natures, being the nocturnal predators that we are, we are violent creatures at times. It is a part of our nature, as most predators are. But one does not look on as a lion attacks a gazelle and call it a monster, no. That is reserved for those that prey upon man, the 'top' of the food chain. As a result of our predatory side, we revel in the sensations that bloodlust creates in us, the euphoria, the ecstasy that it creates. Blood nourishes us, as I have said before; the blood produced by our bodies has difficulties in carrying sufficient oxygen to our cells, which is the way that our bondage was created when that man centuries ago sold his soul to survive. While we can survive indefinitely without fresh blood, it saps our energy, making us weak and causing our bodies to draw resources from the extremities. My hair, when I was released from the cellar, was a shock of white from the deprevation. It is now again black, as dark as pitch, as the night that I inhabit. We also start to go mad as the amount of oxygen circulated in our blood decreases.

"Of course, Master," I said, leaning on the title more than I usually would. There were times that being bound to serve a teenage girl was more annoying than any other thing I had experienced in the millennium I had lived. They are flighty, emotional, and very difficult to reason with. And when that teenager is also your Master, it gets worse, for she feels that the slightest whim should be obeyed without argument. Integra was better than most, understanding her duties and the limits of her control over me, but I still found her annoying at times when she viewed me as no more than a pet.

She looked at me, her face softening somewhat. "If I could get out of this, I would, but as the head of Hellsing I am expected to make an appearance with an escort. You should take it as a sign of the trust I have in you that I want you to go."

"And you should understand that I look forward to this as I would to drinking your uncle's blood." She had asked why I left Richard's body alone while drinking and lapping up every last drop of the red liquid from my cell. I had explained it to her as best I could to a young teen. I believe I likened it to her eating garbage from a trash midden, or some such rubbish. Finding similes that made sense to humans has become difficult as time went on and the memories from my time as a human became more and more dim. Had I been as whimsical and unpredictable as the ones I now know?

She looked at me as I said that and I caught a flash of understanding from her. She felt the same way, or near enough that she felt sympathy for my situation. I could no longer probe her mind at will now that she had developed the strength of will to shut me out, but sometimes strong emotions slipped free, loud as a shout in a bazaar. The sympathy she felt now was one of them.

And every now and then, when she looked at me, another came through, dim and uncertain, but there all the same. If I had to apply a label to it, I would call it affection, caring for my wellbeing. I could see it in her eyes sometimes when I went out on a particularly difficult mission.

She started walking away, the skirt she was wearing more mature than the one she had worn when she had appeared in my life three years ago but still showing a hint of a carefree spirit. I suppose that is why I endured her attitudes: she was a refreshing change from Lionel's maddening drive for mastery over me and his paranoia about not being able to do so and the disdain that the others had shown me through the years. She showed me genuine respect, and so I treated her accordingly.

Of course, I did so love taunting her from time to time. The look of irritation that crossed her face whenever I just popped in from the ceiling, floor, or mirrors was priceless. Unfortunately, it had resulted in the removal of any mirrors from her bedroom and bathroom.

As though I would intrude upon her in those places without her permission: I am a gentleman. Though, when I was raised, it was considered perfectly acceptable to bed any woman you wished providing she wasn't married. Something through the years must have tamed me a bit.

She turned as she left. "Do find something comfortable to wear. Something a little less dated than what you have now."

I looked at my clothes, the Victorian era jacket draped over my lanky frame, the red ribbon tied like a cravat at my throat. I had thought them rather stylish. Ah well, mustn't stand out, I suppose. It was still little known that Hellsing had one of the creatures it hunted in its employ. That knowledge did not need to be disseminated.

I chose something similar to my normal attire, a slate grey suit with a double-breasted jacket and a white shirt, both in silk since the material would be comfortable against my hyper-sensitive skin. I put on a pair of white gloves that lacked the sigils that had been tattooed on my hands near a century ago to bind me to the wills and minds of the masters of the house I served. No need in having someone ask about what they meant.

I also found a tie that fit. It was black for most of the length, but at the bottom it bore a large eye. It was perfect. My hair I let stay wild and unkempt. She hadn't said anything about my hair.

Looking back at the time, I suppose that the ties and bonds I shared with her had been deeper than I had thought. Knowing what I know now, and with everything that has happened since then, I suppose it was obvious to anyone with the eyes to see it. Even that philosophical Dhampir I had known back in the Forties had commented on it during a recent adventure. He is off somewhere with the Police Girl, leaving me be for a time.

But I digress.

She came out in a long gown in a subtle blue colour that brought out her eyes and played off her dark skin and pale hair, which she had worked up in an intricate style on her head. A dark grey shawl was draped across her shoulders and contrasted the gown perfectly. Seeing this vision, I felt my mouth gape open. For the first time, I felt the glimmerings of a feeling in my gut, in a part of me that I had thought dead for centuries.

I now know that it was love.

The dance was uneventful and as dreadfully dull as I had feared, though I did have the satisfaction of showing my pointy smile at some obnoxious tosspots that had dared to accost my Master. They gulped and wobbled off, the smell of fear rolling from them like the aroma of a rose.

Ah, the simple joys of life.

Oh, I suppose from the human side it was a magnificent event. The music was a good mix from all times, the buffet was lined with simple yet delectable treats to head off hunger if not kill it directly and the punch was a delightfully fruity concoction that begged to be spiked with some sort of alcohol.

And I had the bad luck to be caught attempting to do so by Integra. I was denied Type O blood for a month. She could be so cruel at times that were she a vampire she would be the most desirable one I would know.

It was apparent after an hour that she already wished to leave, a conclusion I had reached as soon as they played a song by some idiot called Prince. I found it to be the most painful contrivance I had heard since Mozart dared to play one of his songs backwards as a joke at a ball. The humans found it to be of middling importance, but they couldn't hear what I did; the obvious squelches of overdubs that hid the painful lack of talent of whoever it was singing and playing guitar.

I was overjoyed when Barry White came over the PA next. I've always enjoyed a deep baritone voice for some reason. It just appeals to the part of me that respects power.

"Please tell me that you wish to leave now, Master," I remember asking her. "I could find something and create enough of a disturbance to disrupt the party." I was bored and was tired of being civil. While I wouldn't harm anyone, a little chaos would be good for their hearts.

And full of humour for me.

She looked like she was going to give me the ok for a moment, but then shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Do behave yourself."

"It would be sure to keep you from being invited back," I said.

"Oooh, tempting," she said, her face going distant as she weighed the options.

In retrospect, it really wasn't that bad of an evening, as far as things could go. Oh, I wished at the time for something to happen, but after a decade of fighting those damned artificial vampires that mock my kind, I enjoy the occasional quiet times I spend with Integra. It makes me feel like there is a balance to my life now.

Of course, going toe to toe with that Vatican puppy now and again is incredibly enjoyable as well. For a human, he's remarkably fun to toy with.

Now, almost twenty years after my release, I find that I have little to complain about. I have the Police Girl to torment, and she is starting to return the attacks now that she has the confidence and experience to do so, creating wonderful verbal sparring sessions. She'll make a fine No-Life Queen once she comes fully into her powers. The half-breed, Hunter, is as mischievous as he has ever been, the occasional prank being pulled off with his trademarked sarcasm. I'm happy to be working with him again; he's a capable warrior and enjoys a good brawl just as much as I do. He is probably the most responsible for Draculina's change, bringing about her confidence and quelling most of her doubts. She's accepted that she isn't human now, but she has realized that that does not mean in any way that she has no humanity. I think they went hunting tonight, looking for something warm to drink.

And Integra.

She's matured into a most wonderful woman. And the changes that took place after our last major outing have made her even more enjoyable to be around.

I just wish that Walter was still young enough to go and traipse around with us again. It just isn't the same now that James and I are working together again.

Ah well, the wheel of time rolls forward only.

I wonder if there'll be something Integra wants hunted down tonight.

If not, I'll just see if I can ruffle the Police Girl's feathers.

After all, just because I have some humanity doesn't mean I can't be a monster from time to time.

It's the most enjoyable part of it all.

Heh.

Ha ha.

Heh ha ha.

Hahahahaha.

Heh hahahahaha hehahahahahahaha.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!