I'm so sorry for the long wait. The next chapter is coming along, but until then enjoy the fruits of my labour. It's short, but quality work, i assure.
"What," Joshua exclaimed, his face contorted in horror, "is this?!"
He and Walter stood in one of Hellsing's lower rooms, situated at the very core of the impossibly large mansion. The room itself was lined with ancient bricks and lit only by a few light bulbs. Unlike most of the lower rooms, like Seras's bedroom, the walls were not damp or tinged with mould, indicating the room was considered important enough to be kept dry and humanly habitable. Besides this, the only things of notice in the room were a chair and desk.
However, on the desk sat the object of Joshua's intense horror and disbelief; a large, clunky and dust-covered computer, attached to an equally antiquated fax machine.
Beside him, Walter coughed nervously and stated,
"It's our computer database, of course."
Joshua craned his head with agonizing slowness to glare at the aging retainer, his eye twitching and making poor Walter extremely uncomfortable.
"This," Joshua snarled, pointing to the offending item, "Is not a computer. It's an honest-to-god dinosaur exhibit!"
Joshua stomped over to the desk, dragging Walter with him and pointing again.
"You see this screen? I couldn't fit this thing in a truck. These wires? A tangled-up death trap, that's what this is!"
Walter rolled his eyes and sighed as Joshua continued his rant. It wouldn't do much good to explain that Hellsing had very few uses for computers, being an old-fashioned organization and preferring to do things according to tradition. Sir Integra was adamant about sticking with phone-lines and face-to-face meetings, all too aware of the hackers and viruses that could potentially cripple the organization if they relied on the internet to communicate. As such, Hellsing had very few computers dedicated to the organization, and only one of these had internet.
However, Malcolm had insisted that Joshua have access to the Hellsing database, a complete record of Hellsing's operations. Malcolm, despite belief to the contrary, had minimal experience with computers and instead relied on Joshua, CBANW's best Linkmaster, to handle such things. Walter had no idea what Malcolm was searching for, though his experience told him that, despite Malcolm's appearance of a jolly and good-natured employer, he had motives other than simple "staying up-to-date".
Unfortunately for Joshua, the Hellsing "database" consisted of a single computer, and an outdated one at that. And by outdated, one would say it was the bottom rung on the ladder of evolution.
"In the words of the immortal Charlie Brown… GOOD GRIEF!" Joshua proclaimed, pulling up a chair and hunkering in front of the computer, contemplating it with thoughtful frustration. Several minutes passed before he straightened, flexing his fingers determinedly. "Alrighty-then, let's see what this old maid can do."
Walter watched with interest as Joshua managed to bring the computer to sputtering life. Lights flickered beneath an unhealthy coating of grime and dust. Joshua's hands flew across the keyboard in unparalleled speed, the clacking sounds barely keeping up with the deftness of his fingers.
"Hey, gramps? Would ya mind handin' me the hard drive in my bag?"
"I beg your pardon?!" Walter demanded, puffing out his chest indignantly. Ever a master of the British gentlemen's arts, even in his ugliest moments Walter retained a certain courteous manner.
Joshua swivelled in his chair to turn and regard the angry retainer in a haughty manner, not understanding how his words had affected him.
"Y'know, a hard drive?" Joshua lowered his voice, rolling his eyes. "Metal box with holes in it? Do you need a picture or something?"
At that moment, Joshua cell phone began to ring. He whipped it out quickly, remaining unaware that Walter was now looming dangerously over him, slowly slipping on a pair of black gloves.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Joshua?" Seras asked, holding the cell phone to her ear. "How're things holding up over there?"
"There's good news and bad news. The bad news is that the so-called Hellsing database is a disaster. I didn't even know they had a Windows 0.14236. And I'm pretty sure this thing is emitting radioactive crap all over the place."
"Oh, come on, I'm sure it's not that bad." Seras said assuredly.
"You're not the one touching it. Oh, look, an extra toe."
Seras sighed and leaned back against the truck, her legs crossed beneath her sitting frame. Behind her, Hellsing soldiers ran from place to place, blockading the road. In the corner of her eye she could see the old, rickety and dusty excuse for an office building that was the center of everyone's attention. According to the briefing, it was once an important marketing firm- however, it had been abandoned in favour of a more fire-proof building. It was very large, but no one had thought to replace the wooden frame with cement. At the very least, the roof was changed from shingled slopes to a flat surface.
It bothered her that it was much quieter than any other target zone she'd ever seen. Where were the vampires? Where were the ghouls? Even if the vampires were cowards, you could always rely on a hungry ghoul or two to stumble out into the open, being the brain-dead lumps of flesh they are. However, here was a supposed headquarters for their mysterious enemy, and yet there were no defences or even a trace of undead.
Seras quickly tore her mind back to the conversation.
"Well, then, what's the good news?"
"The good news is, I'm fresh out of bad news. You'll have to wait until I'm in the hospital, having mutations pulled out my ass."
Seras sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Anyway, I'm gonna switch to the headset.......!?"
"Joshua?" Seras cried, worry washing over her body. "Are you okay?"
"Hey, let go, you old geezer-" Seras heard him say to someone on the other end, before another, familiar voice was heard.
"Hello, Ms. Victoria." Seras heard Walter say, sounding as if he were struggling with something. In the background, she heard Joshua strangled protests. "I wanted to wish you and Alucard luck."
"Oh." Seras said, a tiny sliver of worry removed at his pleasant tone. She'd been concerned that Walter would remain aloof- he certainly had a right to be, after her apparent betrayal.
"Thank you, Walter." she finally murmured. "I mean it."
A quiet pause followed afterwards, until at at last she heard "You're very welcome, Seras."
A huge smile lit on her face. Perhaps returning wasn't all bad.
"Pardon my saying so, but you seemed rather… reluctant, at the briefing when we announced the mission. Did Alucard… misplace his manners again?"
"That's a nice way to put it." Seras replied dryly, her good mood slipping as she quickly skimmed her gaze over the uniformed crowd. No seven-foot, red-clothed vampires in sight. She exhaled in relief.
"I really must have a long talk with him. His behaviour has been dreadfully poor lately. Or perhaps Sir Integra-"
"Thanks, but no thanks, Walter. I'll deal with the old windbag on my terms." Seras interrupted, quickly said goodbye and snapped the cell phone shut.
The last thing she wanted was for Integra to get involved in this. Integra held little enough trust in her as is; begging for help would only deepen that lack of trust. How could she ever be taken seriously by anyone if she ran to others to solve her problems? Seras wanted to be respected, and in order to do that…
Seras rested her head on her hand and exhaled. Although she wanted-no, needed- to deal with Alucard on her own, it was becoming increasingly clear just how difficult a task it was. He had every advantage available: age, experience, power, rank. Whereas Seras had jack-squat.
Get a grip! Seras thought, suddenly furious with herself. What will moping solve? Just go out there and show them what you're made of!
Seras brightened with renewed determination. She wasn't helpless- she had quite a few new tricks up her sleeve. Tricks even fancy-pants Alucard would have to recognize!
"Fancy-pants?"
Seras froze in the middle of her one-person pep talk.
Oh, god, no.
"I must admit, Police girl, I'm wounded. That whole time I was looking for you, you were hiding here, thinking cruel thoughts about me."
Seras looked up to see Alucard looming over her, his arm resting against the hood of the truck, supporting his head. The other hand was draped across the hood, fingers leisurely tapping out a rhythm. He bore a wolfish grin on his face, accentuated by his glinting fangs.
She quickly squelched her initial panic and replied coolly,
"I was hardly hiding. I just fancy a little privacy once in a while. Not that you care."
"You're right." Alucard said, removing his glasses and idly twirled them with his fingers, continuing to watch her. "I don't."
Her brows furrowed in frustration and she tore her eyes away, pouting. They both stayed silent for a few moments, neither breathing or moving.
Alucard contemplated his little fledgling-no, not so little anymore. She was now a warrior in her own right, and wasn't afraid to stand up to him. She drank her blood without complaint, and could even harness some measure of her vampiric powers.
All without his help.
That particular piece of information left a bitter taste in his mouth. Perhaps it was merely his old-fashioned thinking, but since when could a vampire's apprentice- one who owed him everything- suddenly pick up and leave without so much as a "farewell?" And the worst part of it was she chose to replace him with some spineless, worthless, helpless little-
His train of thought was broken when Seras pushed off the ground to stand, dusting off her knees. She then turned and gave him a barely masked glare of defiance.
"You know what? I'm bloody glad that you don't care." She growled.
"Is that so?" Alucard purred, ignoring the various stares they were attracting.
"Yes, and just so you understand, the feeling's quite mutual." Seras snarled angrily and, much to his surprise, jabbed her finger against his chest with every syllable. "Right now, as far as I'm concerned, you could get staked, baptized and bloody crucified- and I wouldn't bat a lash."
She glared into his crimson eyes and felt no fear. Nothing but a terrible frustration at his lack of reaction and a maddening, unfathomable yearning that she didn't understand, or know how to fulfill. Though, at this point, his severed head on a pike sounded very satisfying.
"Now, I meant what I said; I'm going to spare no effort in trying to get along with you. I'm willing to put up with a lot of your childish bullshit and seriously irritating issues, but that does not mean-" she continued, relishing when she felt a twinge of indignation pass through their telepathic connection, "- that I'm going to be your meek little plaything anymore. Our relationship from this point on is purely professional."
Seras then proceeded to swivel on her feet and walk in the opposite direction, Alucard watching the subtle sway of her hips at her exit. Then he smiled.
If nothing else were to come of her stubborn antics, she had certainly become much more interesting!
Seras waited patiently, her back pressed against the cool wall. In her hands she held her small, military-issued pistol, and she kept her arms close to her chest, in the same position she'd been taught in the police academy.
"Okay." she heard Joshua say, accompanied by a series of clicks and beeps. "The Hellsing soldiers are going to come in through the hatch at the roof. You guys will clear out the lower levels. That sound cool?"
"That's fine, Joshua." Seras said quietly, her eyes set on the wooden door to her left. She kept perfectly still, wary of what might lie in wait beyond it.
"How's Big Red?"
As if on cue, Alucard emerged from the shadows of the alley, twin pistols drawn from the depths of his scarlet cloak and glinting in the slivers of moonlight. He flashed Seras an evil grin before standing in front of the door.
"He's fine." Seras replied, before rolling her eyes at the elder vampire and remarking snarkily, "It's about time; I've been waiting here for ten minutes."
"Patience is a virtue." Alucard replied evenly, not skipping a beat.
"You're one to talk." Seras huffed, but dragged her attention to the matter at hand. "Anyway, there's about twenty floors. The first ten or twelve are for us; the others are on clean up duty."
"I think we're being underestimated." Alucard said grumpily, glancing upward at the many rows of darkened, grime-covered windows. After a moment, a malevolent thought seemed to cross his mind and he turned back to Seras, a rather mischievous look on his face. "Why don't we make this a little more… fun?"
"Fun?" Seras raised an eyebrow, wary but intrigued. "How so?"
Alucard's smile widened, and he replied, "The one who kills the most trash wins a prize from the other. How does that sound?"
Seras contemplated this for a moment. She had to admit, it did sound a lot more fun than just going in and killing ghouls. But on the other hand, she didn't much like the subtly lecherous tone Alucard had when he said "prize".
Even so…
"All right." She said, and Alucard smiled even more gleefully. "But the prize can't be anything dirty, okay?"
"Done." He answered triumphantly and, without any warning, he kicked down the door with a deafening smash and swept into the building, his red coat billowing.
"My ladies."
The man's voice echoed into the darkness of the chamber.
The recipient reclined on a great throne-like lounge, settled on a dais in the middle of a deep, dark room. Silk scarves in red and black were wrapped carelessly around long, blood-spattered pillars, weaving a lazy web from one end of the suite to the other. Soft pillows were strewn like flower petals all along the chamber's floor, and several vanities of menacing size decorated the walls. The mirrors were criss-crossed with cobwebs and violent cracks, seemingly intentional.
"Mm?" One shatteringly lovely voice crooned, followed by a lithe body raising itself up from a particularly large pile of pillows. Then another voice, far more authoritative, murmured,
" Don't trouble yourselves. Let me handle these… petty matters. Go back to sleep."
"You're so bossy." A third voice giggled childishly. Then the two voices fell silent into the shadows.
The eldest, it seemed, strode forth from the bedchamber, hands clutching delicately a small monitor.
"Tell me, my dear one," she said, her stride long and full of purpose, "how fares our little playground? Have the children come to play?"
"Yes, my lady." The male responded, voice slightly garbled from the camera.
Seras raced in after him, cursing herself for giving him a head start. As if she needed another disadvantage!
Thankfully, she heard no gunshots. Yet.
The door led into a dark hallway, the walls splattered with black, caked blood and bullet shells littered the floor. The metallic smell of blood made her mouth water, but she ignored it and sped down the hallway, her master already out of sight. Despite his tall stature and usually lumbering stride, he could be frighteningly fast when he wanted to.
Seras quickly pressed her back against the wall to her left, purely out of careful habit. Surely, she reasoned, there must be a few enemies guarding the back entrance. She reached out with her mind, searching for the tiniest glimmer of consciousness…
"There!" she cried, wrenching the door to her right wide open, and found the source of what she'd felt: a lone ghoul, hunched over the corpse of some poor, unlucky civilian.
She quickly raised her gun and shot the ghoul in the head, as well as the corpse, to keep another ghoul from being formed. Still hearing no gunshots, she realized she was already ahead in the game by two.
Smiling, she ran out of the room, searching out another target. Alucard was right- this was fun!
Alucard heard the two gunshots with perfect clarity, and was startled. How had he managed to miss two targets?! Now she was winning- something he hadn't expected for a single moment. However, he also felt Seras's exhilaration, which excited and fuelled him even more.
Deciding that having a challenge would be more entertaining, he felt no resentment and instead stretched out his mind, feeling for a target. At last he smelled fresh blood and lunged forward, punching a bullet through the glass window of one door before moving on, delighting in the echoing cry of a disintegrating ghoul that followed his departure.
Turning a corner, he saw a group of ghouls slowly staggering towards him, no doubt drawn by the unfamiliar sounds of ammunition. Aiming, he dispatched them one by one, the mindless undead falling before the onslaught with no more resistance than grains of wind-swept sand. He then withdrew, feeling the whole floor to be cleared. Below him, he heard his fledgling do away with four more ghouls. He had a wild desire to watch her in her prime, to see her kill and drink by his side. Quickly smothering it, he reminded himself there'd be time enough for that later; now, he must win their little wager and claim his prize.
His insane revelry began to manifest itself, shadows stretching out from his body and licking the bloodstained walls. He laughed, the sound reverberating throughout the darkened building- he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed a hunt so much! Now here he was, challenging his fledgling and finding himself a rival.
Then, as if on purpose, he felt it. The presence of a large, threatening force.
Remaining still, he focused on it, concentrating. It wasn't a ghoul, or a vampire, for that matter. But neither could it be called human, not in the traditional sense. A man, walking with purpose... followed by the vague sound of fluttering pages and the foul scent of holy water.
Then, opening his eyes, he smiled.
"We meet again, Judas Priest."
The rating may go up in later chapters, mainly for violence.