Chapter 2: Alliances
"Am I damned?" asked twelve year old Maria Gunsche to her father Ambros. Four year old Hans himself was sitting on the floor of the kitchen wedged between the ice box and the cabinets. Hans always did like getting into places like that, it made him feel secure and adventurous, like he was exploring a cave. He was unseen by his older sibling and his father so neither would notice him eavesdropping.
While Lissel, and later Hans, was Jewish, Maria and Ambros were both Catholics, but the religious differences never really came up in his household. Lissel and Ambros had agreed that their children would be given the facts of both religions as well as the ones beyond their house, and allowed to choose their own path to salvation. Maria had become a Catholic and Hans, though he was still only four, was already leaning towards Judaism, mainly at the promise of extra presents at his thirteenth birthday and the fact that he didn't have to go anywhere on Sundays. As a child this greatly appealed to him.
"Whatever do you mean sweetheart?" asked Ambros. Ambros was a giant German man, an exact replica of what Hans would look like when he was grown, and a gentle soul. He worked as a doctor and had managed to give a good life to his family. "What could you have possibly done to be damned?"
"I-I hit a boy when he tried to kiss me without my permission." said Maria lowering her head, as though ashamed. Maria was small, even for a twelve year old, and had mousy black hair that never quite hung flat.
"Maria my sweetheart, that is not enough to warrant damnation." said Ambros putting his hand gently on his daughter's shoulder. "That is simply common-"
"He flew ten feet through the air." she said, quietly cutting him off. "and I made a sound like a wild animal."
Ambros stared at his daughter, a look of wonder coming over his face. "Maria my dear," he said dropping to his left knee and taking Maria by the shoulders, "you are certainly not damned! You are blessed, as I am, and my mother before me." Maria looked up at her father, confusion in her eyes. "That is how the gift is passed, from mother to son and from father to daughter."
"I- I don't understand father. How is this a blessing? It feels... evil." she said, shivering a little at the memory.
"It is not my daughter. It is a gift, a wondrous gift." said his father with utter certitude.
"Does Hans have this... gift?" asked Maria uncertainly.
Ambros shook his head. "Nein. Hans is male, and this power is never passed from father to son. I'm sorry, yes it is sometimes, but it is never good."
"What do you mean?" asked Maria, entranced now.
"Well, whenever a boy child receives this gift from his father, it almost always heralds great misfortune in the near future. But whether the boy will have a role in stopping this misfortune or causing it is never clear."
That's when the floorboards chose that moment to creak under Hans's weight as the curious boy chose to lean forward, finding the whole thing enthralling. Hans froze up but his father spotted him. "HANS!" roared Ambros. Hans darted from his hiding place and rushed to his room, instantly locking the door. Smirking at his cleverness, Hans turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw his father standing here.
"Wha- you- how- door- fast- locked." Hans stuttered, unable to form a coherent thought in his head.
"What have I told you about eavesdropping Hans?!" demanded his father.
The familiar tone and the normal parent-like question allowed Hans to think clearly again. "T- to never do it again because it's wrong and it's rude." said the boy timidly.
Ambros nodded sternly. "This the fourth time I've had to tell you this?" demanded the German giant.
"Fifth actually." said Hans, still slightly awestruck.
"Well, that's five swats isn't it?" demanded his father. Hans hung his head in shame and fear at the punishment to come.
Hans stalked down the halls of the Millennium base in Brazil. If he had been any more furious the metal at his feet would melt from the sheer heat of his rage. He was going to rip the Major's head off and make the Dok eat that damn remote of his. His mind was swirling with different ways of making the evil pair pay for what they did to him, what they had turned them into.
He turned a corner and literally ran into Rip Van Winkle. Rip landed flat on her but and her musket clattered to the ground, the tune she had been humming cut off by a loud yelp. Hans stayed steady on his feet, again a gift from his giant build.
"Owie! Captain vhat's wrong vith you?" demanded the freckled girl indignantly. "Vhy aren't you vatching vhere you are going you great brute! So rude." she growled as she stood, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose..
"S-sorry Fraulein." he mumbled, his fury interrupted by the absurdity of the situation. He felt like he was arguing with his sister again over a matter of little importance. It felt so deliciously normal he couldn't help but drink up the memory like a hungry beast.
"Oh you are talking!" she said brightly, her previous indignation forgotten. "What is ze special occasion?"
Hans paused for a moment, and he felt his bone deep righteous fury return. He allowed a sadistic smile to crawl over his face, and felt slightly sorry at how Rip began to look frightened. "I'm going to destroy the Major."
"W- what?" said Rip in a little voice. Then, much to Hans's surprise, she began to laugh " Oh that is a great joke Captain. A truly funny one!"
"Rip," said Hans exasperatedly as his forehead was introduced to his palm, "Can you remember ze last time I laughed, let alone told a joke."
Rip blinked and stared at him for a moment, thinking. Then, "Sweet Mother Theresa on ze hood of Mercedes Benz! You are serious!" she cried with wide eyes.
"I have never been more serious about anything in my life Rip, I am going to make him suffer." he growled.
"B-but, vhatever for Captain?" asked Rip in confusion. "Ze Major saved you, he saved me, he saved us all!"
"That's your FREAK Chip talking, not you Rip." said Hans coldly. He moved like a flash and grabbed Rip by the back of the head and clapped a hand over her mouth as she tried to scream. "I'm sorry Rip, but this is for your own good." Rip struggled and attempted to free herself as Hans dragged her into a nearby bathroom. As much as she fought she stood no chance against the massive werewolf. In the bathroom Hans shifted his grip and grabbed her by the back of her head. He released the other hand fro her mouth and she immediately began screaming.
"LET ME GO YOU FURRY BASTARD! RELEASE ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She kicked at him with her legs as she cradled her musket like a teddy bear.
Hans said nothing, only allowed claws to grow from his fingers as he thrust Rip's head into the bowl of a sink. "This will hurt for a moment Rip. I'm sorry." he said sadly. She responded in language that would have made a sailor blush.
As gently as he could, the werewolf reached down to where the spinal column connected to the skull, the spot where her FREAK Chip was located. With sudden haste, he sunk his claws beneath the skin and ripped out the chip in a spray of blood. Rip's body suddenly went limp, screaming no longer.
Hans gently laid the unconscious girl against the bathroom wall. He knew that he should have done this better, but he needed an ally, now.
He sat down beside Rip, waiting for her to reclaim herself.
Nine year old Tessa Holstein merrily skipped down the street to her family's home in the German countryside, singing a happy song as she went. She laughed as the pollen in the air tickled her nose and smiled as the wind blew through her hair. The little girl loved her life, she loved her mama and her papa, she loved their home in Germany.
But lately there had been much sadness in her house. Her father, Kirk Holstein, was an avid supporter of the new Third Reich, even though his injured knee kept him from serving, and her mother, Anne Holstein, thought that the whole thing was a bad idea made up by a group of madmen who had no idea what they were doing. It had created an incredible amount of stress and tension in her house, and poor little Tessa was caught right in the middle of it all.
But today, there was something in the air, something in the wind that made her feel that today would be a happy day. She skipped merrily singing her song to the sky in a slightly off key yet strangely pleasant voice.
When she reached her house she stopped nervous. It may have just been her imagination acting up, but a pall of gloom seemed to loom over her house. She cautiously walked towards the door and heard a sound of shattering glass and pottery from the inside. Tessa was terrified and hid in the bushes.
"YOU SON OF A WHORE!" screamed her mother. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS! HOW COULD YOU GIVE AWAY YOUR OWN DAUGHTER!" her mother's voice was bordering on hysteria.
"I swore to serve the Third Reich however I could!" roared her father. "And if by doing that it means sacrificing our daughter to the cause-"
"SHE IS'NT YOUR DAUGHTER ANY MORE YOU BASTARD!" screamed the woman. "You lost that privilege when you sold her to those madmen in Millennium!" Tessa whimpered. Never had she seen or heard her parents so furious, perhaps they had gone mad.
"Don't call me that you traitorous bitch!" he screamed at her. There was the sound of a scuffle and a shattering of glass.
"Put down that knife Anne." Tessa heard her father say.
"You don't deserve to live you monster." Anne hissed at her husband. "I'm going to bleed you like the foul swine you are!" there was a scream from the inside, the sound of metal slashing open flesh, and blood painted the window.
"Mother no!" cried Rip as she came back to herself. Hans jumped at the sound, realizing that Rip was now awake. Rip shuddered for a moment coddling her musket, before dissolving into deep body racking sobs. Hans awkwardly put his arms around her. This was all new to him, comforting people, so he did what he thought might work.
Rip sobbed for a while. It was hell for her, she who still had the mind of a child, to witness her mother killing her father, even if he had deserved it for selling her to Millennium. After a time, she calmed enough to tell Hans what she had seen. Hans listened with his usual quiet demeanor and the calm patience of a dog or a wolf.
She concluded her story with, "When Millennium came for me they shot mother in the head and dragged me with them. That's all I can remember for now." she said in a broken voice.
Hans was quiet for a long moment pondering what he had heard. In his eyes it only increased the need for Millennium's destruction, but he was unsure of how Rip would feel. Millennium had gotten her away from her mother whom had killed her father. She might still feel some form of gratitude.
He really didn't want to have to kill Rip.
"Zey have to die." Rip said finally to the werewolf's immense relief. "But not yet."
Hans was dumbstruck. He let go of Rip and stood, trembling in fury. "Vhy not? Look at vhat zey have done to us! Look at vhat zey have made us!" he was furious at her apathy.
Rip calmly stood and looked the enraged werewolf in the eye. "I vant to live Hans. Maybe you don't care if you live or die, but I do. Do you not think that the Major has not planned for a betrayal of some kind? Do you not think that he does not have some sort of fail safe if we attack him directly?" Hans paused as she berated him. He had never thought of that. "If ve are going to rebel," she continued, "ve need to be smart about it."
"What did you have in mind?" asked Hans in a captivated voice as though he were a child listening to a good story.
"You leave." said Rip. "Leave and join Hellsing or the Iscariots, whichever you prefer, and help them with the coming fight."
Hans nodded, her idea made sense. "I don't think the Iscariot's vill accept a Jew so I suppose that Hellsing vill have to do."
Rip blinked. "Vait, you're Jewish?" she asked in a confused.
Hans nodded. "Yep, just like my mother before me."
"Hmm." said Rip. "I never vould have thought."
"Vait." said Hans. "Vhat about you?"
"I vill stay here." said Rip firmly. "I vill stay and here and pass information to you." she smiled sheepishly. "It- it is ze least zat I can do."
"Zis.. zis is surprisingly vell thought out for you Rip." said the Werewolf.
"Just get moving." she growled at him. "Our intel says zat Alucard has a new fledgling and is headed to dispatch a vampire in Ireland. Go aid him and Integra vill at least hear you out. Do you understand?" she said in a commanding tone. Hans nodded feeling like a rash boy being scolded once more. "Zen get moving soldier!" she cried. She brushed past him leaving the room, leaving Hans in the dust, wondering what the hell he had done by freeing the real Rip Van Winkle.
"Vhat has come over her?" he thought to himself. Then he smiled, the first genuine smile he had smiled in a long time. "Fraulein Van Winkle is finally growing up." he thought to himself
Hans crept through the hanger of the Millennium Base where the massive Zeppelin, the Deus Ex Machina, as well as the smaller crafts which would serve Millennium's vile plans. Hans glared at the huge Zeppelin, it was the first time in his life that the werewolf could recall hating a thing. He longed to indulge in his inner beast, to tear it to shreds, but he knew it would only lead to his death. And despite everything, Hans still wanted to live.
His target was a small reconnaissance jet made from the stolen schematics of the Mark Key 77 SR7 Black Bird. Capable of Mach three speeds and an altitude of eighty thousand feet. Hans was a captain, and for that he had access to all projects and special weapons that Millennium had to offer. As quietly as he could he skulked around the smallest of the zepplin's, and mentally cursed when he saw three soldiers loafing around the Black Bird, his ticket out of there. Then Hans remembered, he was still a Captain, and if he told these men to wipe their asses with their bare left hands they would be expected to do it.
"ATTENTION!" he roared at them stepping out from behind the zepplin drawing himself to his full imposing height, glaring at the men. The three soldiers instantly leapt to their feet, terror in their eyes knowing that the enormous werewolf Captain was not above litteraly ripping their spines out which he had actually done to some poor sod once. "Vhat are you doing loafing about like zis?!" he bellowed. The three were incredibly unerved by the Captain, not just by the tone of his words, but the fact that he was actually using speech to get his message across. Usually he just pointed to where he wanted them to go.
"Ve are very sorry herr Captain!" cried the middle one in a terrified voice.
"All of you, REPORT TO ZE KITCHENS FOR CLEANING SUPPLIES! You are going to clean zis entire base top to bottom!" he roared at them in his most commanding voice. The three scrambled out of the place, probably happy to have gotten out with their lives. Hans smirked and opened the hatch of the Black Bird and hopped in. hans looked around the controls trying to find out how to work it. He had experience flying things like these, just not this particular prototype. He hesitantly pressed a button. There was a whirring and the plane started up. He let out a sigh of relief and pressed another button, launching two missles. The two explosive projectiles instantly blew up the hangar doors.
Hans blinked nervously knowing that he had to get out of there instantly. As he took off he rippred off the Nazi parapharilia from his uniform, disgusted that he ever wore such evil symbols.
The Captain was dead, his story was over.
The story of Hans Gunsche, free werewolf, was just beginning.
(Ireland)
Once Hans got to Ireland it wasn't that hard to find Alucard, he just had to follow the sounds of destruction and gunfire that followed the vampire wherever he went. That and the stench of death that clung to him was all to easy for the werewolf to track, especially with his acute sense of smell. He tracked the vampire to a hospital set in the beautiful Irish countryside. His sensitive ears picked up the sounds of gunfire, and his powerful nose could smell the tangy scent of blood and rotten flesh. The doors were literally blown off heir hinges and the bodies of ghouls with their heads literally blown apart by a powerful firearm littered the ground. From within his coat Hans drew his long barelled Mauser gun. It wasn't like he needed it, but he had a certain level of fondness for the weapon. And there was something satisfying about blowing your foes head off he had to admit.
Hans crept down the halls tracking the stench of the lesser vampire that had taken over the hospital, the one that the No Life King was currently hunting, but there was another smell in the air, mingling with the other scents. It was one that the werewolf had never smelled before, but one he was instantly guarded against, for it also smelled of death.
Hans followed the scent of a lesser vampire into a small room on the second floor of the hospital. He kicked the door open and raised his Mauser, only to find a very bloody scene before him. The unfortunate vampire had been skewered with several bayonets, two in the head, three in the torso, and one in each hand. He was pinned up on the wall set to resemble an image of Christ upon the cross.
Hans walked up to the obviously dead vampire and pulled out one of the bayonets. He examined it in the moonlight, and noticed the Latin words inscribed into the blade. It was a sanctified silver blade, tailor made for killing the undead.
Hans felt his blood ran cold, for he knew that only one type of monster hunter wielded these holy weapons, the Soldiers of Iscariot, the priests of Judas Iscariot.
Hans's keen ears picked up the sounds of walking through the wall and someone saying a prayer in an Irish accent, obviously the Iscariot from the scent. "He iz going to attack Alucard." said the werewolf to himself. Shoving the bayonet into his boot, Hans crept to the wall and listened through it. "Zis is my chance." thought Hans. Before he could talk himself out of it Hans crashed through the wall and into a hallway. Before him was a tall broad man in the white robes of the Iscariot order. He was standing over a young , and rather beautiful, blonde girl in a Hellsing uniform. The warrior's blades were poised, ready to stab the frantic woman.
As the Judas Priest turned towards the noise Hans lifted his Mauser and emptied the weapon into the man's chest sending him crashing to the floor. Fast as lightning Hans zipped over to the girl, crouching beside her. "Are you all right Fraulein?" he asked kindly.
"BEHIND YOU!" screamed the girl. Without hesitation Hans rolled to the side as three bayonets crashed into the floor where he had just been. Hans stared in shock as he saw that the one who had thrown them was the same man he had emptied the Mauser into earlier.
"How in ze fuck are you still alive!?" cried Hans.
"I am a the Paladin." sneered the man. "I am Alexander Anderson, the monster of God."
BLAM!
Someone had fired a shot right into the back of Anderson's head. The priest pitched forward but instantly straightened to see who his attacker was.
Standing behind him, flanked by two Hellsing agents was Integra Wingates Hellsing herself. Her pistol was still smoking from the shot fired, and her sword rested in her other hand. "I'm going to ask you this once papist." she hissed. "Where the hell is Alucard?"
"You mean the undead heathen?" asked Anderson. "I killed that monster."
You what!" exclaimed Integra.
"I cut off his bloody head." smirked the Iscariot.
Integra smirked and Hans grinned knowing full well that it would take far more than that to kill the No Life King. "Well, that's step one." said the last of the Hellsing line. "What about steps two through ten?"
As though on cue, a dark and sinister laugh filled the hallway. The laughter grew louder and the moon turned blood red. A swirling column of blood appeared between Anderson and Integra, and it slowly formed into the mighty vampire himself.
"You done goofed." sneered the vampire.
Anderson narrowed his eyes and opened his bible. "I will need preparation to kill this one." he growled as golden bible pages surrounded and swirled around him. There was a flash of gold and the Judas Priest disappeared.
"Well now that that's over," said Integra calmly lowering her gun and turning towards Hans. "who might you be?"
"He just appeared out of column of blood!" cried the younger blonde woman. "Are we not going to address that?!"
"This is normal with us Police Girl." said Integra calmly. "Get used to it, you will see far worse in our company." the girl blinked and sat down, obviously needing a moment to process the information. Concerned, Hans dropped to a crouch and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, trying to calm her down.
"I'll ask again, who are you?" growled Integra raising her gun at him.
"I believe I know who he is master." smirked Alucard. "I've met him before. But I believe he wishes to introduce himself, that's usually the way his kind like to do things, on their own."
Hans gave the girl one last comforting shoulder squeeze. The girl smiled sheepishly at him and nodded, the best she could manage at the moment. Hans rose to face the Hellsing woman. "Here goes everything." thought Hans nervously. "I am Hans Gunsche." he said, politely taking off his hat and giving a quick bow to the noblewoman. "Last hereditary werewolf of the line of Lycaon, and former agent of the group known as Millennium. I am here to help you Fraulein Integra. I am your servant."