Ferne's Thoughts: Heya guys! So, long time, no read, huh? Sorry, I tend to just lay around all summer. I had major writers block, but school starts up again next Monday so I should be updating more frequently. I'm also starting on my first actual novel! YAY!
Seras growled and writhed in strong arms. She could feel herself being lifted and held close to a cold body. She heard things, but she couldn't comprehend what they were. Here and there she could make out words, but nothing she could make any sense of.
"How dare you?" The gruff voice came from above her. I know that voice. Blood dribbled from her wound and into her hands. Her body moved of its own accord, hands pushing into her bloody stomach. She whimpered. The arms tightened.
"I'm simply saving her." She felt the movement stop and writhed around, body eager for rescue. She felt the body holding her breathing, the motion comforting to her head. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her teeth biting down on her lip. She felt tears on her face, or is that blood? I'm bleeding, right? After several seconds, or minutes, or perhaps hours, Seras wasn't sure, the deep voice spoke again.
"This, Integra Fairbrook Hellsing," each word fell from his mouth slowly and bitterly, "is war." He sounded sure, absolute. Seras had half a mind to smile just at his assurance, though she wasn't quite sure who he was.
In the few minutes since her attack, her brain had all but wiped itself clean of its memories. As she attempted to remember, to think even, she felt herself swimming through her brain. As soon as she felt as though she was close to information, her arms grew tired again. She fell under the surface.
It was easier for her not to think. To just go with the motions, go with the pain. And she did. Her breathing was heavy and she felt as though she were suffocating. She opened her eyes and met bright, blinding light. She blinked the sudden sharpness away and looked down to the resonating pain in her stomach.
Crimson stained the front of her dress, and she assumed the back as well. Her hands were wet and slick with the dark liquid. Blood had dried in spots, turning rust against her once ivory skin. Her eyes moved from the mess at her torso, and met the shiny armor of a man's arm. She whimpered, suddenly in desperate need of comforting. Her hand moved from the puddle pooling at her dress and towards the large appendage of the man. Her muscles were weak, her hand drooping and twitching. She nearly gave up until it fell onto his arm. She felt the arm tense, the man's stride slowing slightly before picking up again. As she concentrated, she could hear his heavy steps. Suddenly, a name came to her mind.
Vlad. She smiled, even her lips twitching in pain. A pain wracked through her body, through her chest. She felt something come up her throat and couldn't stop herself. She coughed heavily, feeling warm liquid burst from between her lips. A metallic taste covered her tongue and she knew it was blood. It poured down her chin and drops landed on her cheeks. Her eyes started to fall again.
She whined, not wanting to sleep. She coughed once more, as she attempted to speak. The brightness of her surroundings faded to black and she felt herself go limp.
Vlad wasn't sure of what he felt. Just minutes earlier, he felt pleased, content, happy, even. And then, it was ripped right away from him. Like he was afraid it would be. He had tried so hard to build up walls around them, once he figured out he wouldn't be able to build them between them. She made him feel such… amazing things. Things he wasn't even sure he could feel, would feel, should feel.
He didn't deserve her. And she… She didn't deserve this. I caused this, he thought as he held her in his arms. This is my fault. I should have known better than to become… involved with her. He stopped suddenly as he reached the main doors of the manor.
He could hear their whispering, back in the ballroom. He could practically feel the pride resonating from her body. He wanted to tear her apart right there, but he knew better. If he acted on such thoughts, he would never make it in time to save his Seras. My Seras… He chuckled humorlessly. Regrets and angry thoughts ran through his head like deer through wildflowers. His arms gripped her body tighter.
He had nearly jumped when he felt her hand on his arm. He hadn't even noticed that she had regained consciousness until she did that. It made no difference; she had lost it soon after. He wanted to speak to her, but he knew that even if she heard him, she wouldn't be able to reply. He'd sustained injuries far worse than hers, even as a human. But then again, he thought, so has she.
He leaned against the door and sighed. He looked down upon her small body. She was crumpled in his arms, stained and covered with blood. Her pale skin contrasted against the pools of blood. It had stained her fair hair, covered her dress… As he stood, he could feel her life draining from her body. Her heart was slowing, the scent of her blood filled the air.
He felt his mouth water, his teeth elongate in his mouth. His entire being screamed against his actions, wanting to fall against her and devour her. His chest ached, both with the guilt and pain of the situation, and with the intense need of her blood. The sweetness of it overcame his senses, and he felt a growl from deep within his throat. His nails dug into her soft flesh and he opened his mouth. He crouched down against the door, bringing her blood stained neck up to his mouth.
He inhaled sharply, air hissing between his teeth as he snapped his jaws shut. His body shook. Slowly, he allowed his tongue to escape his lips and brush the bloodied flesh. A moan escaped his throat, from deep in his chest. He pulled her body closer to his and continued lapping at her flesh.
She was sweeter than anything he'd ever had. Every drop fulfilled a desire that he didn't even realize he had. His tongue ran over her skin, and as he focused, he could feel her light heartbeat. Crimson eyes shot open with realization.
When he had been tasting her blood, he had lost himself in her. He had forgotten about what had happened, what he needed to do. He stood and growled angrily at himself. A shrill voice called from behind him as he spun around and disappeared in a cloud of black shadows.
Vlad laid Seras' twitching body on the dining room table. He walked over glasses and bowls that he had thrown from the top of it. He phased angrily and quickly through walls, grabbing supplies and the attention of his servants. They called and spoke to him but he didn't listen, instead he grabbed what he needed. He laid all the supplies above her head. He listened to her heart for a moment before he gripped the neck of her dress. He focused as he ripped away the form fitting clothing, revealing her wound.
Wren and Maya watched on as their Master tore the young woman's stained gown. Wren kept calling out to the Vampire King, each shout becoming more and more frantic as he feared for her life. Suddenly, Vlad stopped tearing at her clothing and sighed, his hands falling to her sides, torn clothing balled in his fists.
"Let me work," was all he said. The calmness of the Nosferatu's words shocked Wren, chilling him to his core.
"She's not going to die, i-is she?" His Master didn't answer. He did, however, let go of her clothes. He pulled off his own coat, then his waistcoat, leaving him in nothing but a blood-spotted undershirt. He ran his hands through his long hair.
"Please, leave." His voice was even, not displaying the intense emotion flowing through his body. Maya immediately ran from the room, wanting to escape the heavy smell of blood. Wren followed soon after, afraid of the way his Master was acting.
Vlad returned his attention to the dying Seras. He knew that due to her injuries, he had three choices. Of course, I could just let her die. Drink her blood, get something from this. His own thought disgusted him. No, I couldn't do that. So that makes two. I could try my best to save her human life. Though, it is unlikely that she will recover. But… She's strong. She could. And then, if all else fails, I could turn her. But would she want that? Oh, it doesn't matter, does it? It would give her life. I wouldn't lose her. He had decided.
He reached above her head and grabbed the wet cloth he had prepared. He cleaned her body, gently around the wound so as not to rouse her. He avoided her chest, feeling the strangest sense of embarrassment when he thought of touching her there. Even the first time he had taken care of her wounds, he felt that little flutter in his stomach as well. Odd, he thought, but payed no mind to it.
With each swipe of the dripping cloth, more and more of her skin was revealed from under its camouflage of blood. He felt his chest tighten up as he caught sight of the wound. He inspected it gently. It laid between her second and third rib, narrowly avoiding her spine. He was unsure if it had hit any major organs, but he suspected such, due to the blood-loss. Glad that her bones had been untouched, he went to work cleaning her wound.
The more he tried, the more she bled. He felt a subtle panic rising. Her heart had slowed to a light beating every few slow seconds. He sighed deeply and threw the cloth he had been using. He slammed a heavy fist down on the table, shaking her body. He cursed and rolled up his sleeves. As he lifted her light, limp body, he placed a gentle kiss on her cold, damp forehead. Her head rolled in his arms as he adjusted her. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.
"Seras, everything is going to be alright. I'm going to fix you. I need you. I need you with me."
Without giving any thought, he bit into her weak pulse.
Seras could feel herself floating. She knew she was dying, but she wasn't afraid. She was calm, more than anything. She was fine with it. Sure, she didn't want to leave the world, to leave Vlad and the home, the family he had given her. She felt as though she belonged with him.
She loved him. He had been the first good thing she had ever had. Hell, she thought, at least I had that. She smiled to herself as the darkness she was floating in moved farther over her body. It was cold, tingly, like light feathers over her skin. She rocked her head back and forth through the shadows, the sway of it giving her comfort.
She didn't remember when she had gotten into the shadows, or how long she was there, only what it meant. Suddenly, words flowed through it, like waves reaching her ears.
"Seras," it said, "everything is going to be alright." She opened her eyes and looked around for the source. "I'm going to fix you." She felt her strength returning, her curiosity overtaking her. "I need you." She furrowed her brow and the shadows below her became solidified. She rested her feet on them and began to walk. She looked to all sides of her, for the voice, until she noticed a dull red light in the distance. She walked towards it, the redness growing and brightening. "I need you with me."
The redness surrounded her.
His body vibrated with joy at consuming her, taking her life as his, branding her as his own. His mind fought against the feeling, the guilt at condemning her to a life such as his gnawing at him. The two sides of him fought as he drank from her. There wasn't much, and soon, he felt her heart stop. He slipped his teeth from her throat after he had drank her dry. He laid her down lightly and turned away from her.
His body hummed, his throat itching and needy for more of her, though there was none. He didn't want it to feel good, he didn't want to enjoy drinking from her, killing her. But he did. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't help it. He was a monster. And now I've just doomed Seras to the life of a monster as well. What have I become? What have I cursed her to become? He punched the stone wall once, twice, three times until there were holes in the thick slabs. He screamed.
"This isn't how I wanted to do it, Seras!" he muttered to himself. "I wanted it to be perfect, I wanted you to want it. I'll kill her, Seras. I swear to you," he was over her body now, a hand cupping her cheek. "I will get my revenge. Even if I have to destroy every single pathetic human to get it. I will get it, I promise this to you." He picked her up and took her to his bed.
She walked through the shadowy halls, confused and cold. She shivered against the rough fabric of her shawl, and she thought, 'I haven't had this in years… Where did I find it at?'
As she turned with each coil of the halls, she couldn't help but look to the floor suddenly as she felt something brush against her exposed ankle. She yelped as she saw a black tentacle, seemingly made up of only shadows. She immediately jumped away from it, creating a distance between her and the wriggling appendage.
It followed her, slowly and menacingly. She felt her back reach something hard and solid, and she turned around, meeting hollow eyes in a sunken face. "What are you?" she asked the figure. She backed up as it raised an arm to point at her.
"I know what you are." She furrowed her brow.
"What I am? W-what do you mean?" The scent of death radiated from the figure's body.
"You're a vampire." Her eyes widened as she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She looked down to see blood pouring and dripping from her body. She gasped and gripped at the wound, falling to her knees. She began slipping and sliding in the pool the wound had made on the ground. She tried to regain her balance but slipped and fell, her head falling on the hard floor. She laid there, her head throbbing and pain running through her body.
Then, she saw somebody, standing in front of her face. She rolled over onto her back to look up at the person. It was a man, long hair framing a strong face, crimson eyes shining in the shadows of the hall. She held out a trembling hand towards the man; just as it fell, he leaned down and caught it. A smile pushed its way through the pain she felt, and her eyes began to close. She felt safe.
Her eyes opened. She was gasping for breath, her hand clutching her once-wounded stomach. She felt panicked, and looked frantically around her surroundings.
She was in Vlad's room, laying right in the middle of the large bed. As she turned towards the door, she saw him sitting on a chair, his face resting in a hand. He was asleep, his eyes closed and face peaceful. He wore a blood-stained undershirt, the pale flesh of his hands seemingly stained with the liquid as well. She furrowed her brow, recollecting the night's happenings.
We were dancing, he held me close, then… then… She raked through her memories, but all she could remember was a sharp pain, and yelling, angry words. She quickly looked down to her clothing, assuming she had been injured. She had been stripped of her clothing and now wore a large white shirt. She blushed as she realized whose shirt it must have been, clutching one of the large sleeves. She lifted up the bottom of it, which rested mid-thigh, and inspected her stomach. She found no wound. She blushed harder, at the thought of who had undressed her. She pushed the thought away and stood.
Her stomach rumbled and she scratched her head, rubbing away sweat that had lingered from her odd dreams. She walked over to Vlad and tapped his nose. Red eyes opened wide and his head jerked up. As he met her eyes, she smiled and his eyes widened. He seemed unsettled before clearing his throat and standing.
"It's about time you woke up. I was beginning to lose faith." She laughed, high and musical.
"Oh, you know better than to do that. It seems I just can't die." He chuckled.
"It would appear so. Do you remember anything?" He faced away from her and walked over to the window. She cocked her head and sat where he had been.
"No, not really. What happened?" He visibly stiffened and sighed.
"You were… attacked, I suppose."
"Attacked?" She chuckled, not believing his words. "Why? And by whom?"
"Her name is Integra Hellsing. She tried to kill you because of your association with me." Seras' brow furrowed further.
"Hellsing? Who – why would she do that? How does anyone even know of me? Why try and kill me?"
"She believed she was saving you. I think she just happened to be there, looking for me, and found us both. She took her chance to feel like a hero."
"So, she did hurt me? I don't have any wounds." Suddenly, she checked her shoulder. "It's healed? How? How has this happened?" Her voice was quiet as she felt the burning of hunger through her body again. Her brain clicked. "I did die. You killed me. I'm… I'm like you now, aren't I?" Vlad sighed again. He turned around.
"Seras, believe me, I tried to keep you human. I did. But you were dying. I would have lost you, and I don't want to. So yes, I turned you. I won't apologize for it, if that's what you want." She shook her head.
"I don't feel any different."
"Are you hungry?" She looked up at him.
"Yes, but-"
"Then we need to feed you." She stood, shaking her head, blonde hair shaking.
"No, please, I don't need to." Vlad stopped walking towards her and smirked.
"You aren't… afraid, are you?"
"No, I just… I don't want to kill somebody that hasn't done me wrong." He hummed.
"Now, that's the mentality you need to get rid of. You are no longer human; humans are food to you now." He came to her and stroked her cheek. "Get over it." She narrowed her eyes at him. She cocked her head.
"Are my eyes like yours?"
"No, they're still blue."
"Is that normal?"
"I wouldn't know." She sighed and felt the pain of hunger again, causing her to flinch. "Seras, you need blood, now." He felt an odd sense of contentedness in saying that, a small smile playing on his lips.
After several slow seconds of internal debate, Seras gave in. "Fine. I'll do it. But you have to help me." He grinned.
"Of course I'll help you! It would be a pleasure." As she looked into his face, she saw how tired he looked. "But, first you might want to change into something less… revealing." She blushed angrily as she growled at him.
"You're the bastard that put this on me! Don't complain!" He arched an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm not complaining." She rolled her eyes and changed into a dress.
She had to admit, she felt better than before. No pain, other than the sudden bursts of hunger, and she felt completely rested.
Maybe this is a.. good thing, after all.