Orphanage.

If I have to describe the institute with one simple word, then it would be: Terrible. It's that convenient place where incompetent parents who couldn't abort their child to drop their babies. It's where children who have lost their parents, and only have relatives who don't simply give a fuck.

It's also a big ball of breathing Angst, and teens who thought their lives are bad. In a simple term, I hate it as much as I hate the look my Father gave me after all the things I did to make him proud of having me as a son.

Granted, there are still those lucky ones who would get adopted by some incompetent pairs of husbands and wives. And that's still not counting the chance of said adopting family may as well be worse than living in the Orphanage, or that it would simply be too painful for the children who lost their parents.

Just like the little bundle I was cradling up to my chest.

And I was placing her in the place which I personally hate. I couldn't help but to chuckle internally at the irony of it. In order to keep her relatively out of harm, I had to place her in a place in which I simply found untrustworthy.

That said, there are still decent orphanages in the world. There are ones that filled with cheers, kindness, hope, happiness, laughter, and in the case of Anderson's orphanage, future God's soldier; ones that actually tries to do the best for the orphans, to make their lives better.

Brighton Orphanage does not fall in the latter category. The bleak and depressing grey brick walls, old-Victorian classic windows, chimneys casting out black poisonous smokes, standing three stories tall and looming over me like that eldritch abomination in that Monster House movie.

Add in thunders over in the background, and this would be the perfect horror setting for a horror game.

Shaking my head, I walked to the door, knocking the wooden doors. As I waited for someone to answer, I glanced at the sleeping bundle on my arms; her face contorted in fear as she began to murmur mixes of "Papa" and "Mama".

Softly, I began to hum a random soft tune, and her face, if slowly, returned to its calm self as she continued snoring.

Shaking my head in amusement, I raised my head and the door creaked open, revealing a rather old nun, glaring at me with her wrinkled face, littered with liver spots that would make all old people to bow down of her superiority.

"What do you want?" She asked, not even trying to hide the irritation in her voice. "It's already late,"

"It's still bloody 7 PM, hardly late," I deadpanned, before shaking my head as I slowly pushed the sleeping Seras to her. "I'm here to... drop her in. And I'll sign whatever documents I have to,"

She stared at me incredulously, at the child in my arms, then at me again. "Is this your child?"

I sighed, rolling my eyes as I reached deep to my pocket, before pulling it out, revealing a stack of fifty pounds bills in my hand. "No, but I am her uncle,"

Her eyes widened, staring at the cash in my hand, before giving me a polite and fake smile as she stepped aside from the entrance. "Well, why don't you say so, Mister...? "

"Private," I answered, walking into the interior of the orphanage. It was empty, and just like the exterior, it was pretty bleak for an orphanage. But I suppose that's something obligatory for an old orphanage. Aside of the ominous atmosphere—which thankfully, was only that—, it was fairly fine. "Private Jaime."

She stared at me for a moment, then at the cash in my hand, and quickly shook her head as she gave me a forced smile. "Please take a sit," she said. "I'll grab the papers," and walking away deeper to the depths of the Orphanage.

I stared at the interior with a grimace as I took a sit at the squeaky sofa, putting the stack of pounds onto the coffee table in front of me. I really hoped that Seras isn't Claustrophobic. It was around that time, the Seras decided to awake from her nap; her tiny hands rubbing her eyes as she yawned.

"Mister Private?" She slurred, her half-lidded blue eyes staring at me sleepily. "Where are we?"

I bit my lips, cursing under my breath as I gave her a gentle smile. Better make her sleep before she realized what happened a few hours ago. "Someplace," I answered. "Now how about you go to sleep first? You still looked tired,"

"But-"she yawned, cutting herself. "Yeah, I think I'm going to sleep..."

And just like that, she was out. Thank God for that mercy. I may intent on protecting her, but I wasn't going to start any awkward moments anytime soon, especially when I wasn't planning on visiting her anytime soon in the future. Gods know I've derailed the canon enough from the rail just being here with Seras.

I mean, I could derail it more, and I won't even care. It's just that it's important that she became a Vampire, one that's turned by the red coated bastard. I don't care how where she'll go to get turned to a vampire, but she had to get turned by Alucard.

It was somewhat a grim, and gut twisting thing to think about. Yet another strange emotion that I thought I wouldn't be feeling about. By the Elder Gods, how did I become so fixated over protecting the damned girl?

Shaking those thoughts away; I bit my lips in thought, carefully placing Seras to the sofa next to me. Maybe I could—

A pair of footsteps came from the depth of the orphanage, slowly revealing the old hag with a considerable amount of documents in her arms as she walked to the coffee table, before slowly dropping it to said table.

She huffed deeply, sitting to the sofa on the other side of mine sofa. "Here," she began, plucking the paper on top of the stack. "Is the..."

I kinda tuned her out the moment I stared at the giant stack of paper works. I know it was childish, probably immature, but I really, really wanted to burn the paper works, give the woman another stack of money, and just leave Seras there.

"Stop," I cut her off, sighing as I pulled another stack of fifty pounds from my pocket. The nun's eyes bulged at that, staring at the stack of money as I put it on the table. "Give me the important ones,"

"But-But," the nun stuttered, her eyes never leaving my money, before she finally slumped. "Fine," she conceded, grabbing a single document from the stack. "Just fill it here,"

I gave the glaring nun a fake smile, taking a look at the document. It wasn't anything special, really; just general information about the child. And just like that, I wrote Seras's name, skipping her parents—I had no doubt the police will found her here—, write my name as a relative, and skipping her birthday as well.

The nuns stared at the barely written document incredulously, and I rolled my eyes, pulling out another stack of pounds from my pocket and put it on the table, and she went back to her professional side. Gods, I may or may not put Seras in the wrong Orphanage here.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Private," she said, and I ignored the not so veiled aggressiveness in the old hag's voice.

"You're welcome. Now, would you leave me alone with the young one?" I asked, smiling a smile that's not really counted a smile, but a smile nonetheless.

The nun looked at the sleeping Seras, before back to me. "She's—"

"Please."

The nun sagged. "Fine," she resigned, giving me a nasty glare, before rising from the sofa and walking to gods know where inside.

I let out a grin as the nun's footsteps faded away, and pulled a blank paper and an envelope from my pocket, and wrote my gift to Seras. She's going to need every help she could get, after all. Especially when dealing with the Cheddar priest; heck thinking about it already made my blood boil in helplessness.

Dear Seras Victoria,

If you're reading this, then I'm probably already gone across the world. Now, I know that you're probably traumatized, what with your parents' death, and I probably traumatized you a couple of times, today. And let's not forget the fact that I've only met you for a day, and signed myself as your unofficial uncle.

That said, this message contains a gift, I should say. Just read the back of the paper.

I flipped the back of paper, and began to draw. Draw what, you may ask? Well, I drew every conceivable and possible way to throw knives, daggers, tomahawks, and any other improbably weapons to throw. On how to hold them effectively, the necessary motions you should use when you're about to throw them, or how to aim perfectly with them.

I even had to add another blank paper to complete the detailed instructions on how to throw the weapons, how to aim, and where to aim. She'll need it. And at the end of the instruction, I wrote a warning.

Warning: Seras, I'm going to say this. I don't care what you use this... ability for, but I'd rather you not use it to harm other orphans. I won't get angry, or disappointed. I'm just saying that it won't probably do well for you. Also, only learn this when you're alone.

I looked over it once more, checking for some mistakes or typos. I don't want her to become a Shirou Emiya, and I don't want to be a Kiritsugu not for his badassery but for his idiocy at teaching Thaumaturgy. Gods know I don't want Seras to slit her wrist by accident just because I miswrite one word.

I nodded in satisfaction when I saw no errors, and carefully, I slipped the letter into her pocket, before I stood up and silently exited the orphanage.

Now, back to the boring hunting 'innocent' vampires and 'recruiting' some poor Brazilians for the fucking Doctor. I realized for a moment, that what I was doing was probably helping the Doctor in making more perfect soldiers. I shrugged after that tiny revelation. Alucard is still going to wreck them all, and I still would have the chance to choke the Doctor to death.

I may even have to kill Walter before he gets the chance to do so.

Spite is a very strong thing, indeed.

()_()_()

Saturday, August the 17th, 1990.

It was summer. The sun glared hotly from the sky light a attention-hungry jealous crazy ex-girlfriend, which made plenty of reasons why I prefer her younger sister, Luna and why I was wearing a supremely thick coat and hoodie. And as I lay there on the roof of a building, I pondered why I was there for a second.

I stared at the ground beneath me, a field of some sort in the backyard of the Brighton Orphanage. There, sitting in the corner of the field was Seras, sulking alone as she played with rocks, throwing them to a distance with a somewhat perfect accuracy. A part of me was torn between aghast that she was brooding and pride that she was having a somewhat perfect accuracy at throwing rocks.

Last week, she actually threw a rock at a random boy's head for trying to steal her letter. In the end, I settled with pride. After all, she's still a child, so she'll grow out of it when she hit her teens. God knows I did.

If not. Well, I know a very convincing way to.

Still, the past two years had been cruel and good for her; cruel because other kids would scorn her for some reasons, and because the nuns would avoid her like fire ants. But it was good because she's safe from every danger of her father's enemy.

You wouldn't believe the amount of evidence of who sent them when you search the blond junkie's pockets. It was apparently some upstart Mafia who had too much power than they should.

The look on her face when the news hit the paper made my heart a flutter.

Still, I held no illusion that the moment we meet again, she would probably rip me face to face like she would to Zorin, with the exception of her probably making me into her Familiar. So that's something to think about.

I probably deserve it. Because no matter how much I deny it, I was still controlling her life. Even if I did it for her safety; well at least as safely I could, considering her soon-to-be un-life life.

"You're stalking again, mein Private?" A teasing voice came from behind me.

My eye twitched. "I'm not stalking, it's watching from afar to ensure her safety," I retorted, lightly snorting my nose. Seriously, I wasn't. Stalking would only count if you're doing it to fulfill your disgusting desire. I was doing it for her safety, thus it's not stalking. "Also, you could've used a better wording, Schrodinger,"

He made an agreeing noise, before reporting, "The Doctor is searching for you, Private. Says he has a new augmentation for you, and the Major is also looking for you for another assignment,"

I clicked my tongue in annoyance, before pride pushed in as Seras threw the rock with the perfect hand motion. "Tell them to wait,"

There was a humming noise coming from him. "Tell me, Private, why are you so fixated to that girl over there?"

"None of your business," I retorted.

"But it is mein Private. You've been staying less and less in the base and more stalking—"

"Watching."

"Watching the little girl, and nowadays, the only thing you do in the base is only training in the training room, storing weapons from the weapon racks, and accepting assignments from the Major." at this, I could feel his eyes boring through me likes slits. "Tell me, are you planning to do something, Private?"

I snorted reflexively, amusement in my eyes as I watched Seras fiddled the letter from her pocket. She had always kept it with here once one of the boys thought it was smart to steal it from under her pillow. "Do you mean betraying the Millennium, Warrant Officer Schrödinger?" I asked, arching an eyebrow even though he couldn't see it."I think you should've already known the answer, Oh Mister Paradox. And I think the Major also knew and he's probably already planning about it. The Doctor doesn't give a fuck, and the others underestimate me too much,"

The Paradoxical being behind me let out a chuckling noise. "Yes, I think I do know. But you never answered my previous question, Private,"

I tilted my head back, meeting the sharp feline like smile of his, and I knew what he was meaning, but I asked anyway, "And what is it, Warrant Officer Schrödinger?"

"Why are you so fixated about that little girl over there?" He asked again, his tone sweetly fake as he twirled around, vanished and materialized back lying beside me, watching the girl over the ledge. "Why is she so special that you spent almost every day to watch on the little Fraulein?" He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Is it because she looked like me?"

I blanched. "No. Ew. What the fuck?"

He tilted her head, ignoring my expressed disgust over him. "Or are you secretly a pedophile?"

My eyes twitched, one eye glaring at the little were-cat while the other watched as Seras nodded in understanding with a smile, before she folder back the letter into her pocket. "I swear I'm going to kill you someday. And no, I'm not a damned pedophile, you fucking Trap,"

"Then why?" There was a curious tone in his voice as he tilted his head at me. "Why her?"

I stared at Seras with a little quirk in my lips, as my mouth moved by its own willing. "She's my John 1:5: She's the light who shines in the darkness," I fondly answered, half-hoping that Schrodinger wouldn't get any funny idea.

He gave me a confused look in reply. "You read the Vatican's holy book?"

I shrugged. "Used to, before I was turned,"

Admittedly, I was slowly losing my faith. So I suppose that's a moot.

There was a sound of realization as I turned back to watching little Seras, screwing her face cutely as she stared at the pebble in her hand with a look of frustration. Or that she imagined the rock as me and she wanted to burn me to the deepest depth of the Seventh Hell.

Cat boy stood up from the ground, grinning as he skipped backwards, before turning to me. He gave me a curt bow. "Well, Private. Auf Wiedershen. Don't forget the Doctor and Major is waiting for you,"

And with that, he was gone.

And with that, I went back to stal— I mean Watching Seras. Oh look, now she's standing up, her face scrunched adorably in confusion as she looked around—

Oh, oh shit.

I rolled backwards, just in time to avoid her ever watchful gaze. That was a first. "Dammit," I muttered, cursing the sun for no other reason. "I'll need to buy a bug,"

It's not stalking if you're not planning to terrorize your victim. It's just being Big Brotherly.

()_()_()

Friday, 17th of April, 1991

The night air of London was beautiful in this time of the year. The sweet moon, Luna, embraced my body in her cold embrace, soothing me of my tiredness like a good girlfriend should. It was one of many reasons why I prefer her than the yellow boiling energy of Jealousy. Ah, Luna, sweet Luna.

I yawned, staring at the building in front of me; a small simple nondescript house of no special mention. The Major had told me that it was some renegade vampire, a considerably old one, according to Adal and Jericho. Thus, it forced me to prepare for the worst, spending my afternoon time storing weapons, and training to throw heavier objects.

It also made forced me out of my usual doings.

I walked to the door. The Major had also said that there weren't only one vampire, but four or so. Granted, the four were young, and only one of them is old enough to be a threat. I wore the normal suit that night. Nazi Army Trench Coat, complete with the emblems, over the uniform.

Funnily enough, I became a tad attached to the suit. Perhaps I should create another one after I turned coat, without the Swastikas, of course.

Calmly, as I reached the entry, I knocked on the door.

There were sounds of scuffles from the inside, a curse thrown, before someone finally answered. "Who is it?" It was male, a young one at that, either he's in his teens, or he's turned when he was a teen.

I cleared my throat, making my voice's pitch as young as I could. "Uh, pizza delivery, sir," I shouted back, hiding my grin away from my face.

"What?" the same male softly asked to himself. "Jacob, did you order a pizza?"

"What? No, I didn't. I thought we couldn't—"

"Shh!" another voice hushed, sounding like a female. "It could be a trap," she whispered.

"Angel," Jacob sighed, sounding exasperated. "You're being too paranoid. Right, Nate?"

"Hmm?" Nate absentmindedly hummed. "Oh, yeah. You know, about that Pizza, maybe we could eat—"

"Nate," the first guy, sounding frustrated. "Shut the fuck up, and let me handle this,"

Nate grumbled, before answering, "'Kay Brian, whatever you say... Jerkass,"

"I heard that!" Brian shouted back as I heard a pair of feet closing in to the door. "Can I ask what's the pizza is?"

"Uhm," I stared at the ten blades in both of my hands. "It's a meat lover, special meaty, with sharp spice, and a little bit of hot sauce, sir,"

Brian let out a long-suffering sigh. "Look, mate," he said, the lock of the door unlocking, and I prepared my blades as he opened the door. "We didn't—"

He paused, staring at the ten blades in my hands, then at me, then at the ten blades stabbing his heart. "Oh."

I grinned, throwing him aside as I burst into the house. Immediately, I snapped my remaining blades to the other three inside. Their eyes widened as they're heads and hearts were pierced with swords of varying types; all except Angel, the only woman inside, who quickly rolled out of the way, hiding behind a sofa.

"Fuck!" she cursed loudly. "Who the fucks are you!?"

I didn't answer her, and instead riddled the sofa with holes. Smartly enough, Angel rolled out of her cover, her face full of snarl as she growled at me. Her platinum blonde hair torn from what I probably guessed my blades.

"You FUCK!" she shouted, eyes red with rage, and hair bloodied from her friends. Her claws sharp as she glared at me. "I will kill you!"

She pounced at me, not unlike a cheetah. I twirled around her, perfectly dodging her blow, before she immediately turned around, swinging her right claw to my neck like a giant troll.

In response, I slashed my claws of swords right through her hand, decapitating it like butter. She stared at it in disbelief and pain. But before she could react even further, I dismissed the swords in my right hand, and snapped it around her neck.

Her left hand tried to move, only to receive a slap from my left claws of swords. Making her left hand to cry like a bitch as it was cut off from its home. I pushed my hand, choking her before she could even scream.

"Where's your master." I hissed, glaring her back with my red eyes.

"Up... stairs. Master... bedroom." She choked out, eyes pouring in tears.

I gave her a smile. "Thank you." I said, giving her a nod, before she found out the danger of aiming at necks as her head fell down from its roots.

I spun around, my eyes immediately catching the stairs in front of me. Briefly, I pondered if the master of these vampires is really that confident that she/he didn't come down, or simply deaf. Shaking those thought away, I sauntered up to the second story.

As it was, as I reached to the second floor, I didn't need to search for the Master bedroom, because the master itself stood in front of me, a rapier in his right hand. He was a man with the physical look of fifty years old, with a moustache and a graying hair, wearing some sort of a fancy robe. That one you usually use after a long bath.

Real classy in my opinion.

I opened my mouth—

His rapier sang in the air, intent on stabbing my little heart. Reflexively, a Big Fucking Sword materialized in my hand, and I quickly brought its flat side up to my chest, deflecting the sword. The man jumped back, his eyes red in anger.

I wondered for a moment why he was angry— oh, right I killed his sires.

"You killed my sires!" He spat.

"I didn't!" I shouted in faux-offended. "My swords did. Oh, did you know Angel has a fetish for necks? Oh wait, I meant she had."

He snarled, dashing forward as he thrust his tiny sharp sword to my weak spot. I brought up my sword again, when suddenly the rapier flashed, and changed direction to my head. Forehead to be exact.

Reflexively, I shifted my density up to my forehead, deflecting the blade much to the vampire's shock as he jumped back again, if his bulging eye balls were any signs.

"Hey," I shouted, grinning as I pointed my big sword up to his head. "Look at my face, mongrel!"

He did.

Oh, wow.

In return, he received what would be the equivalent of getting shot with a cannon ball. Only this time, it's swords and other melee weapons, and instead of the chest, it's the head. Rather predictably, his head disintegrated into red mist as it was attacked with swarms of swords, axes, daggers –you get the idea—, leaving his body mostly... intact.

Well, part of his shoulder was gone, but his chest was still intact.

I shrugged. That was as good as I could get, I suppose. I approached the body and stored it. "You know," I pondered to myself, staring at the giant hole my swords blast caused. "Is it me, or is every other vampire is just that weak?"

I mean, that would explain the lack of them during the London battle. Or they're so weak that the Nazi redshirts would easily defeat them.

Huh.

I went back to collecting my swords, before I left, leaving the house empty of lives and full of four corpses, and a rather large hole. I won't even be surprised if the Hellsing decided to send Alucard to investigate. That was why I decided to book it out of there immediately the moment I finished collecting my weapons back into my hammerspace.

()_()_()

Saturday, 30th of May, 1992

Have I ever said that I love the moon? Because I do, moreso than the sun; I guessed it was just a perk of being a vampire. Not a bad one, though. Briefly, I pondered if wanting to destroy the Sun is also the perk of being a vampire.

I was lying on the roof of the Brighton Orphanage, enjoying the light breeze as my mini-radio crackled alive.

"Is she at it again?" The voice of the one who was in charge of the Orphanage rang out, sounding exasperated as he sighed.

"Yes, she is. This time she threw a rock at James just because he took her letter. Poor James was crying all hour," A nun replied, sounding tired and exasperated. "The girl is a problem,"

I grit my teeth fiercely. "They do realize that Seras is in there, right?" I questioned to myself, eye twitching as I put a hand over my face. "Right?"

"If this goes on," the man, Richard, if I remembered correctly, stated. "We have to send out elsewhere from here. This is already the fifth time. She's going to be a danger for the other children,"

"But sir," the nun, Eliza, managed to say. "What about him?"

Oh fucking stupid bitch! Why can't people be fucking smart? The fucking child you're talking about is in fucking there! Is the only smart people in this world is only the Major, Doctor, Schrodinger, Pip, Integra, and Alucard?!

Oh, for fuck sake. It's as if they're asking for me to burst in there and chop their heads off.

The radio crackled slightly as Seras moved from her position, and I could picture her raising her head, and looking at the both of them in confusion and part suspicion. "Who's him?"

I cursed myself.

There was an anxious shuffling as the nun cleared her throat. "Nobody, Seras," the nun said. "How about you go outside, and take a bath? You smell rotten, young dear,"

"But—"

This time it was Richard who cut her off. "Seras." He said sternly.

I pushed the off button of the radio as Seras walked outside. And I could picture her sulky face as she exited the room. I sighed, plucking another mini-radio from my pocket and turning it on.

"I don't care about him. If the girl is going to be a danger to all of the children, then she should be transferred from here,"

"But, sir, without him, we won't have any fund to renovate the building," Eliza argued. "Without him, we're going to transfer the whole orphans to either the road, or another orphanage, while this one is going to be demolished,"

Richard grumbled something, before beginning arguing again. "I said I don't care, Eliza. I'll make do with the fund we're having now. It should be enough for us to supply the orphanage of its needs,"

"What fund, Richard?!" The nun shouted, frustration leaking into her voice. "We don't have any fund. The only fund we're having is only enough to feed the kids for another year, and we're done!"

Richard growled. "Well, I suppose we'll have to see how our little troublemaker will going to behave, right?"

I could hear the sound of teeth gritting as Eliza fumed and tried to reason with the stubborn fool. "Why can't you understand, Richard? We just have to put up with the girl's behavior for just another six years. She'll go on her own after that,"

"We'll see." He said with tone of finality.

"So be it, then." The nun stiffly replied, before exiting the room.

I sighed, clicking my tongue as I clicked the radio off, and before turning on the other radio, the one with Seras.

I only heard crying.

I immediately turned it off, and went back to staring at the beautiful blue moon as the gut twisting pain returned with unholy vengeance. "Dammit."

()_()_()

Wednesday, 18th of February, 1998

I won't bother you about what happened for the past six years. Nothing special happened to me, my relationship with the Millennium grew rather... distant would be an exaggeration since most of the Nazis didn't even care for me, except for Rip Van Winkle, the small group consisting of Adal, Jericho, Stein, Klaus and Clovis, and Schrödinger.

Granted, I've been spending quite a lot of time with our small group of Nazis, sharing them blood that I've collected in my job. They took a liking of me for that. I still did it occasionally. Did you know that Jericho was actually a spy, before he was commissioned to the last battalion? Who would've thought, right?

And Rip Van Winkle, I rarely played her songs anymore since most of the time in base I spent futilely training myself for the inevitable battle of me and Alucard—though it was spent more on planning how to outran him—, and drinking with the boys.

That said, my relationship with Schrodinger was normal. I usually compared our relationship like a buddy cops. One a cat boy capable of going anywhere, and one a forced Nazi capable of storing anything; with the twist that they would kill each other if forced.

And I would.

The same, however, couldn't be said the same with Seras. Her six years had been extremely hard on her. She was fucking excommunicated from her peers. Granted, she was a loner to begin with. But nowadays, she would stay inside when day, reading books, avoiding other kids, while going out at night, training her own throwing ability with a stolen kitchen knife.

It was impressive to say the least.

This time though, the pride was utterly beaten with guilt like an amateur boxer ringed with Mike Tyson. I know, with clear conscience, that I wasn't fully guilty of her life. Heck, her life was already shitty to begin with. Maybe even shittier what with she was shot, and then forced to watch the corpse of her mother raped by the one who shot her.

Heck, I may even make her life better by giving her inspirations, a bad one, but an inspiration nonetheless. I even gave her an indirect helping hand.

It didn't help in quenching my guilt whatsoever. To watch her cry in the middle of the night, not unlike that day whence I traumatized her, all the while clutching the letter I gave her like a life line in a sinking boat. To hear her weep in the afternoon, muttering for helps in her nap, muttering for my help.

It made me feel helpless, and that made me feel deeply pained in the heart. Hell, I couldn't even try to use any funny analogues. That's how bad it was. It didn't help that I mostly drowned myself in more blood, and less coffee.

I lay on top of the orphanage on my back, watching the ever gazing moon. The mini radio stood inches away from me as life crackled into it.

"Are you sure, you want to be a police, Seras?" Richard dubiously asked.

I could imagine Seras giving Richard a determined nod as she said, "Yes, Sir,"

He made a derisive snort in response as he leaned back to his chair, signed by the creaking sound. "Fine then, if you want to be a police then go be a police. I don't care much as long as you get out of my hair,"

My hand clenched by itself as I reined my anger and bloodlust. I could imagine the look of shame from Seras as she stared down at the floor.

"Sir," Seras began; her voice surprisingly strong. "Before I leave, may I ask a question?"

"Shoot."

There was a short silence on the radio, before Seras finally spoke again. "Can you tell me about Private Jaime, sir?"

"Him?" Richard snorted. "You mean the one who dropped you here? The one who mistook this place some place to drop some orphan? The ONE who is the reason why you're in HERE, and no on the ROAD?!" He shouted as he hit the table in front of him with his fist.

I gritted my teeth, clenching my fist that I felt my nails piercing my skin, causing blood to slowly spill from it. Do you know how much I was keeping myself not to burst in through the window, tear his head apart and ate him, before taking Seras under my wing or to the Hellsing Headquarters?

Everything.

Tense silence followed, before Richard let out a chuckle. "Nothing." He finally said. "I haven't even fucking meet him. The only one who had is Eliza, and she's dead right now. Meaning I know nothing of him for except the fact that he's been paying us monthly to keep you here through letters. Are you satisfied now, Seras?"

Another tense silence followed, and I swore I could hear a whimper from Seras voice as she nodded. "Y-Yes, sir," she said, her voice trembling like she was going to break down right there.

"Good. Is there's anything else?"

"N-No, sir,"

"Good, you're dismissed,"

And just like that, Seras exited the room, no doubt shocked and in the verge of another breakdown. My heart clenched in helpless pain and guilt as I clicked the mini-radio off, crushing it with my hands easily into pieces.

I stared at the moon, before my right hand covered both of mine eyes. Teeth gritting as I cursed myself like I had never cursed myself before. "Fuck. I'm so fucking sorry, Seras."

No. Stop your self-loathing, Private. Look at the bright side. Look at the bright side! I took a deep breath, a grim smile crawled onto my face as I chuckled. "Right, let's just look at the bright side. At least she's being a cop," I would've said more, but the chip records, so I simply said it within my mind.

Hopefully she'll be a vampire.

I grinned, not quite erasing the grim look on my grin as my hand dragged itself away from mine face, standing up and whistling a familiar, and favorite tune.

"Always look on the bright side of death~"