Chapter Three: A Devil's Premonition
The sun shone bright that morning, as Stiva rose, got dressed, and moved forward with his day. He choked down the horrors of his slumber, as he always did, and used his numbness to begin his hunt once more.
The radiant sun not only pulled the tortured hunter from his Hell and back to reality, but conjured a greater beast from the deep chasms of slumber. "B," as he called himself, rose from the covers of the guest bed he had long ago claimed, his partially curled, ivory white hair was messily tousled with his active and rather unruly sleep. The delicate creature dragged himself out of the bed, his bare, effeminate and rather pale body glowed in the warm light of the sun that reached out from between the curtains. He stretched, and bent down, gathering up the clean clothes he had carelessly knocked aside the evening before, and dressed himself.
B was a bizarre creature, even to a seasoned cryptozoologist labeling the mischievous being aside from his own self-given labels would be difficult, due to his love of taunting and teasing, leading him to mask his true form and ability. In this realm of vampires, humans and werewolves, the possibility of his existence as something more was plausible, and a rather interesting case to the variety of beings which he surrounded himself with. He asserted himself as a demon, a creature birthed straight from the pits of Hell, in which his nominal 'B' could refer to Beezlebub, Berith, Beleth, Belial or one of the hundreds of other lesser demons given a name beginning with the letter "b"; though he has never once uttered a true name. The only sure thing was his mischievous, rather sarcastic and mocking attitude, and more pressingly, his omniscient, almost clairvoyant view of all horrible events that, as he put, "occurred, are occurring or will occur" in the world.
His behavior this particular morning was even more odd than usual, when he emerged from his chambers he was sporting a massive smile that could have rivaled even the happiest of child's. Instead of his typical route straight to Sir Hellsing's office, he took a less-traveled route down to the first floor, and sprinted through the long halls, across multitudes of intersections before arriving at the ominous and large mirror that disguised the path down to Alucard's hidden chambers. He looked himself over in the mirror, admiring his own twisted excitement, and pushed it aside, making his way down the dark staircase—where others would have turned back with the sheer foreboding aura that emanated from the lower level, B embraced the dark and heavy air and continued forward at a quick, almost bounding pace.
The deeper he descended into the lower levels, the more he distorted from that child-like excitement to something darker, and more terrifying. It was as if with each step, he reverted to the intelligent, sadistic creature that he had arrived on the mortal plane as, so long ago. Every second he inhaled the dark air, he shed layer after layer of the silly, childish personality he had taken on as he existed alongside the people of the mortal realm. His massive, wide, smile flattened to a closed-lipped, sadistic grin, his angular, vibrant blue eyes picking up hints of red that seemed to glow in the dim stairway and outshine the surrounding blue irises. His footsteps calmed, and when he reached the bottom, he stood with the gall of his former pride.
"Good Morning, Old Friend." He called mockingly into the dark, dank, basement chamber; watching as Alucard's blackened red figure shifted in the singular throne that stood near the center of the room, and a red eye emerged in the darkness, flashing him an expression of disinterest and indifference. "It's such a marvelous day outside, I'm surprised that you would stay cooped up in here..with a day full of sunshine as beautiful as this..." B prodded, the corners of his mouth twisting into a grin as he leaned against the door-frame, and his vibrant blue eyes sparkled, with that sinful tinge of red that circled the pupil, at the yellow-white grin that met his own from across the dark room. "Old Friend, tell me, do you smell the sweet bitterness that the divine London air has dragged into the humble abode of "our" Master?" B seemed to roll the word "our" on his tongue, sharpening its sound and driving the sarcastic literary blade right into Alucard's eardrum.
B lived to tease the "all-powerful" Alucard, but this particular day had dredged up another motive. He pulled himself from the door-frame, gathering himself in the center and taking a confident step forward. He embraced himself, reveling in Alucard's indifference and condescending silence before he continued to speak. "Old Friend, that luscious bitter scent is the new air that change has brought about—Do you feel the world shifting right beneath your mighty, crumbling, throne?" He took another bold step, throwing his arms out, taking the "bitterness" he had spouted on about and welcoming it into himself. He took in a deep breath, savoring the dark air, his tongue flicked about—almost mimicking the forked tongue you would expect the manipulative, cold and deceptive being to have—and finally he recomposed himself, turning his attention back to Alucard, who had yet to respond.
B's right hand drifted to his left elbow, and he held it, resting his left hand on his left cheek. With a slight grin, he began to speak again. "I see, Old Friend. Well, I do not need you to speak, I do not want you to speak. Listen to my words, so I may advise you, because I know of the time to come, and though you may believe you do as well—my words will keep you from crumbling alongside your throne. You, No Life King, must heed the words of a higher being—the Devil who haunts you is your closest ally here." His eyes shined bright in the dark room, the dank and stagnant air from before was expelled with a new, ominous, air that grew more powerful with each word formed by B's lips. "It's simply intoxicating, my Old Friend, But.." He trailed off, for a moment, his own sadistic fantasies distracting him once again before he caught himself. "Beware the silver cross-hairs...held by the seraph with a single, broken wing... my dearest Old Friend." B's lips curled at their corners into a devious, glistening, sharp-toothed smile."As you know... a bird which is kept from the heavens and damned to the earth, may simply be crushed under its unkempt gravity—broken under the strain, and liable to snap right in two... If it has not already crumbled beneath the weight, or been devoured by the vermin on the ground." Their eyes locked, and B's warning hung in the air, a jumbled cloud of images and meaning: though in B's mind he had no issue bringing an image to fruition and to him, that meant he had completed his self-assigned task.
Alucard's eyes had flickered with a small light of interest, "A one-winged Seraph... How Interesting..." Alucard thought to himself, keeping his eyes on B, who was simply watching Alucard, possibly waiting for a response. Unfortunately for B, Alucard's long existence did not give him any lapse in memory and he quickly recalled the very reason he despised B's "visits". "This little nuisance.." Alucard's eyes narrowed slightly at B with disdain and his face took on a general expression of displeasure. "Just what has he begun...what insignificant hell has he dragged me into once again..." he thought as the smug creature grinned at him from across the room. Alucard had learned to be weary of exciting himself over the "Hells" that B brought about. Unlike the chaotic battles with monstrosities that Alucard often entertained himself with at his Master's order, B had a habit of stirring up trouble that was rather tedious and simply left Sir Hellsing and Alucard toiling to clean up the mess his hellish shenanigans brought about. Despite the enjoyment Alucard hoped a devil could summon for him, B was the cruelest monster of all—teasing Alucard with uninteresting events that only expended time and effort with no true reward, as well as offering no assistance at cleaning up his own mess when it would be so much simpler for him to do on his own.
And so, Alucard found himself rather displeased with B's premonitions—fighting his own deep-rooted interest in them with the knowledge of how previous events had unfolded at B's hands. Keeping that in mind, Alucard remained settled in his chair; B becoming upset with the sheer lack of excitement Alucard expressed over the event. After a few minutes of silence, B stepped back and ran his hand back through his hair, " Rest well, Prince of Night...or whatever the evening's whispers beckon you with. You'll need your resilience." B turned, and ascended the staircase, exiting and shutting the hidden entrance to allow Alucard to simmer in his lair's sullen and dank atmosphere once more.
Recomposing himself, and readopting his more child-like personality as he returned to the empty halls of Hellsing Manor, B joyfully made his way to Sir Hellsing's office. He'd delivered his message, and now B could continue about his normal business, just waiting for the events to unfold before him and satiate his mischievous and sadistic hunger for chaos.
