Blood.

Have you ever drunk blood? To taste that red thick and seductive liquid, pouring out from that flesh wound of yours, your enemy, or a random passerby. If you're not a vampire, then it would taste like copper, liquid copper and you should go to the nearest hospital to get yourself checked; if you're a vampire, however? Well, that's an entirely different matter.

It's like a drug, to be honest. Not the kind that you used to cover up the dead body you hid under your bed, but the kind that you use to ruin yourself into a sad sobbing trash. Granted, for a vampire, blood is necessary—unless your name is Seras.

I will be honest. The moment that smell—Drink! Feed! Kill! — I lose control like a dog eating his master. I dashed to the corpse of the seven, blood oozing out from their unrecognizable body, littered with daggers, swords, axes, and hammers. My hand lashed out, grabbing an arm from the floor, and drank the blood.

Though devour would be a more fitting.

It was sort of hazy after I tasted my first drop of the red ecstasy, but I got the gist of it after I regained my control. The seven corpses was dry, dry like a man crushed under a car and left there for a week under the sun, the room was splattered with blood, and my trench coat was dirty.

The small part of mine, I realized, was extremely repulsed by what I had done; a really small part of mine. After all, it was either me or them, and I'd rather pick me than them, really.

Beside, they're going to die regardless whether I killed them or not, anyway.

I blinked, shaking my head as I turned to look at the Doctor. "I suppose this is something common?" I questioned.

His perpetual grin widened slightly as he nodded his head. "Quite. Especially for new vampires,"

Of course, others. "There are others?" I walked to him, shrugging of my trench coat, before storing them into my hammerspace.

"Well, of course. You don't think you're the first artificial vampires, did you?" he asked, sounding very much amused as I followed him exiting the room into the same stale grey metallic hallway, signs of swastikas painted on the while for every ten feet we walked.

I shrugged. Of course, I didn't. "Well, so far I've only seen you, cat boy, and the Major,"

"Of course you haven't seen them. They've been given a mission by the Major, and you should receive one for tomorrow, Schütze,"

I scrunched my brows in confusion. "Schütze?" I had a guess of what it was. Private came in mind, after all, even for all of my fantastic power, I haven't been in any kind of military.

The Doctor hummed, tapping his chin. "I suppose in your language, it would be rifleman, or just private. The Major said that should be your current rank from this way onward,"

A mirthless smile escaped my lips. Now I was officially a Nazi. I couldn't help but to let a chuckle of mirth as I thought about it; one day inside Hellsing, and I'm already fitting in snuggly like a soul inside of Alucard; though I'd rather be inside Seras than Alucard.

"I thought I was going to be the group's musician," I asked dryly.

He chuckled. "What kind of song do you do, then?"

I shrugged. "I can do pretty much anything. Show me the note sheet, and I could play it. It's a hobby of mine, you see,"

"Then I recommend you to ask Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle, she would love a pianist to accompany her. Of course you should ask the Major for permission first,"

I raised an eyebrow. I suppose the insane one would be happy to have a melody in her life. "And who's Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle?"

"Well, she's a lieutenant. Though I doubt you will see her anytime soon, as she's currently away for the Major's command,"

A part of me was still curious why neither the Major nor the Doctor questioned how I came in here. Seriously, a man in his twenties suddenly dropped into his lab while sleeping, and all they considered was what? Make me an artificial vampire and a target behind my head to the Iscariots and Hellsing.

Not that I was going to ask for it.

Shaking my head, I decided to change the topic. "Where are we, anyway?" I asked, because now that I looked at it, I was not in Deus Ex Machina. The blimp was more of a fancy aircraft, slapped with some armor and guns. We're in a more grounded area, more of a base.

"We're currently in the secret base of Millennium. Under a small slump in Brazil," he answered, and I noticed a hint of a mad smile as he tilted his head slightly. "It's very easy to get patients in here, even if they are uncultured,"

The conversation remained dead after that as we took a left at the end of the hallway, into another hallway. This time it was lined with doors, each of them had some sign; one of them being a scribble that read, 'Van Winkle's room!'

The good doctor led me into one of the door. "This is where you're going to sleep while you're here," he said, before leaving me alone to my tools. Of course, it's not exactly leaving me alone as he could just spy me using the chip he installed inside of me.

I looked at the door beside mine, a door with a scythe etched on it.

I let out a nervous chuckle, shaking my head as I entered my room. At least I won't have a roommate, so that's always a plus.

The room was a Spartan one; a cot by the left side of the room, a foot-locker poking out under the said cot, a small desk on the other side, with a wardrobe beside it.

Upon further inspection, I found the wardrobe was filled with nothing but my standard Nazi Uniforms, army trench coats, boxers, socks and a spare pair of military boots. The only difference between my current wear was that there's a patch on them.

Closing them, I sighed as I walked to my cot. Pulling off my bloodied boots, and stinky socks, I let myself fall onto my cot, staring at the ceiling.

As soon as I did that, memories of me killing those seven came to mind. And I realized with mild horror that I couldn't care less about it. There were no guilt that I could feel; something I realized was indeed a good thing. I let out a dark chuckle. Scary how a small change of perspectives could change everything.

Shaking my head, I decided to drop it. I was going to kill more, and I better numb that feeling down if I want to keep my un-life in this Warmongering organization, or from Alucard, or from Alexander Anderson.

I was about to drift into the dark realm of unconsciousness when a certain cat boy popped into my room. He gave me a mischievous smile, a wave of his hand, "Welcome aboard!" and he was gone.

My eye twitched, and I couldn't help the escaping chuckle it resulted, before I closed my eyes. Letting my slutty consciousness into the cage it's supposed to go, before I drifted to my much deserved sleep.

()_()_()

I stood in the darkness, void of all light. Where was I? I looked around, and only darkness welcomed me. Who am I? I walked aimlessly in the darkness, aware yet unaware of something.

The ground in front of me moved, the dark shook like a strange slime, before it suddenly grew, grew and grew until it was towering me like a giant. Eyes, red eyes opened from the black body. It gazed at me with something akin to curiosity.

Curiosity turned to amusement as it gazed at me, and amusement turned to hunger as it neared to my dream-self. There was a look there, a look that promised blood, before it melted back to the ground, snapping myself to the realm of consciousness.

()_()_()

I stood as the Major gazed me with something akin to amusement as he stood in front of me. I stood straight, spine-breaking were I a human. My stand was so straight that it would make straight man to bow down to me, all the while admitting that they've been shipping Alucard with Anderson, receiving death as their punishment.

The delicious coffee Schrodinger made definitely helped me in doing so, and staying awake of course. Last night's dream—or was it day?—was utterly terrifying, too terrifying that I couldn't even sleep for the next night.

I didn't even know what it was about, only that it's utterly bone-chilling, terrifying, ominous, foreboding, and made me want to rip the Doctor into pieces and chunks of rotten meat. Not that I could do such thing.

So there I was, standing straight in front of the grinning Major as I tried myself not to sleep or doze off. Finally, the Major nodded his head, and opened his mouth. "So, how was your sleep?"

"Utterly shit," came instantly the answer, and I blinked. "I mean unpleasant, major,"

The Major chuckled. "Ah, no offense, schütze," he waved his fat short hand at me. "Today, as your first duty of a Millennia's soldier, I'm giving you a simple mission, fitting of your current rank. I want you to collect as many as latinos you could without gathering suspicion. Could you do that, private?"

I nodded, giving the major a salute. "Yes, Major."

God, the things I would do to survive in this Hellish world.