Chapter 5: Sins of the Fathers
(World War Two, German Countryside)
Alexander Anderson was hunting his prey. The eighteen year old Paladin reveled in the power he felt, this power of the regenerative serum was unbelievable. Overnight he had gone from the weakest, smallest boy in Rome to a vampire hunter, the most powerful warrior in the service of God in all of Italy, perhaps even Europe, maybe even, if dared to be so bold and proud, the world. He was drunk on it, on the power and strength he felt. This must be how angels felt perhaps even Christ himself felt when he went about his work.
Anderson was hunting, his first solo mission. Millennium, their allies, had informed them of a rouge werewolf wandering the countryside. Anderson personally hated Millennium and everything it stood for. Creating abominations like vampires no matter what purpose they served was wrong, an affront to God. The director of the Iscariots, in his opinion at least, was a fool for consorting with them and their creatures.
No matter, he was on a hunt, he had a werewolf to send straight to hell where it belonged.
On official Vatican records, Anderson's family had died in a house fire, but it was not the truth. When he was three years old, Anderson's family had been murdered. His mother had been raped and eaten, his father had been ripped to shreds, and the attacker had been a vampire, a spawn of the foulest pits of Hell. Anderson would have been next, but then he had come.
Father Renaldo had come, with his knives he had ripped the vampire apart, holy words of the Bible on his lips. Renaldo had taken the boy under his wing, raised him to be a warrior of God despite being physically weak. When the regeneration serum had been developed, the idea of being able to stand toe to toe with the monsters that had killed his family was too good for Anderson to resist, he had been the first to apply.
Now here he was, hunting a werewolf all on his own, ready to deal some damage to the monsters that plagued this world.
Anderson could feel the werewolf nearby, he could sense it's foul presence and it's wet dog smell. It got stronger as the white robed priest approach a section of forest. "Come out ye furry heathen" sneered the Irishman. "I can smell yer foul scent from here ya disgusting monster."
A man walked out from the trees. He was a giant of a German, his white hair had twigs and mud in it making it messy and untidy. His clothes were tattered and torn, and he had a wild look in his scarlet eyes. "Please, leave us alone." said the man. "We don't want any trouble."
"Too bad ya filthy demon." laughed Anderson with wicked delight. "I'm sending ya straight to yer grave ya foul creature."
The werewolf shook his head "Please," he begged, "I'm a good Catholic like you, trying to make do with za foul hand he was dealt."
Anderson glowered at the werewolf. "You, a creation of Satan have the gall to stand before me and claim to follow the righteous path?!" He drew a long gleaming blue bayonet in either hand. "Tell the devil that Alexander Anderson sent you." Fast as lightning he swung his bayonets at the werewolf. The werewolf leapt out of the way transforming into his bipedal beast form.
"FINE! BUT IT WILL BE YOU WHO GREETS THE DEVIL, NOT ME!" screamed the wolf in a voice of thunder. He changed his arm into mist, extending his arm towards the young priest. He slashed open the priests neck, blood spurting everywhere. Anderson stumbled back, but quickly regained his footing. He turned back to the werewolf, grinning as his wounds closed.
The look on the monster's face was hilarious to Anderson. "My turn." smirked Anderson. With the speed of a cheetah he slung his bayonets forward, throwing them through the air. The wolf was too stunned to react in time, and roared in pain as holy silver sliced into his body, one in his stomach, another in his left shoulder.
"Not so arrogant now are you heathen?" sneered Anderson drawing two more bayonets. The werewolf snarled at him and ripped out the bayonets. Since the wounds were made from silver, they did not hell as they would if they were made from a steel weapon. The arm attached to his uninjured shoulder turned into mist, and reformed as a metal sword.
"Ah, yer just full of surprises aren't ya ye little beast." laughed Anderson.
"This is nothing whelp." hissed the German. With a ferocious war cry the werewolf charged Anderson. Sword met bayonets in a shower of sparks. Anderson laughed with the exhilaration of combat. "You are mad." growled the werewolf as he pushed against the genetically enhanced priest with all his supernatural might.
"Mad, nay, merely happy to serve the Lord Almighty." smiled Anderson. He dropped one of his bayonets and drove it into the werewolf's heart. "Ashes to ashes," he growled. "Dust to dust, we are nothing more than dust." he twisted it in further and the werewolf dropped it's sword-arm. "And to the dust we shall return."
The werewolf staggered back as Anderson released his grip on the bayonet. He fell to his knees, shifting to his human form staring at Anderson. "As I walk through the valley in the shadow of death," he said in a choked voice. "I shall fear no evil."
"DADDY!" shrieked a voice, and a teenage girl,about his age give or take a few years, with white hair and red eyes. She ran over to her dying father clasping his hand. "Father no! You can't die! We got out of za camps together! You promised zat zis vouldn't happen! Zat ve vould be a family one day!"
Anderson stared in horror. The werewolf had a daughter, a rather beautiful one at that, and she was begging her father to stop this, stop this cruel trick, and the father was trying his hardest to comfort his daughter as death approached him.
Until now they had just been animals, monsters to hunt, to kill, to send to hell. But now, he saw. He saw a father comforting his child, he saw a Catholic, he saw a fellow warrior.
He saw another man.
"God forgive me." he said, tears in his eyes.
"Maria, mein princess, please, forgive me." he said with a sad smile. "I- I have to go and meet our Lord now."
"Daddy, do not go, I need you! I need you more zan He does!" begged Maria.
"Maria." said her father. "Do me one thing, one miracle." He stroked his daughter's tear streaked face. "Forgive him, he knows not what he does."
Anderson felt a pain in his chest. Even now he begged his daughter to forgive his murderer.
"I- I don't know if I can." said Maria, tears in her eyes.
"God forgives all my daughter." said her father. "Just remember, I love you, God loves you, but not as much as I." said the dying man. "I.. love... you." he said. His hand combusted into blue flame and he snatched it away from his daughter so she would not be burned. His flesh burned until only his bones remained, yet even then Anderson could have sworn that it continued to look upon his daughter. The fire dissipated and his bones collapsed into the ashes.
"Anderson! Anderson!" said the voice of Father Renaldo over his radio. "Come in Anderson!" said the priest.
Anderson picked up his radio and turned it on, the dead part in his heart growing. "Anderson here." said the Iscariot.
"Anderson, there has been a new development. According to Millennium there is a child werewolf with the grown one, capture it alive and we can use it." The girl looked at him, tears still streaming down her face, terror in her eyes. "Anderson, is it the monster there?"
Anderson stared at the girl for a long moment studying her, watching her. Finally he raised the radio to his lips and said. "Nay, there is no child here, the Nazi's must have killed her."
"Damn it, well, kill the monster and get back to Rome." sighed Renaldo.
"Of course sir." said Anderson turning off the radio. He walked forward, and the girl shrank away from him. "I- I cannot apologize. You may forgive me in time, but I will never forgive myself." the girl stared at him, hate and fear in her eyes. "Come with me, I know a safe place you can go."
(The Convent of Saint Bernadotte of Lourdes)
The rain was pouring down as Anderson walked with Maria up to the convent where he had been raised. He pushed open the gate and ushered the girl up to the front door. He knocked on the oaken door with a resounding thud. A few moments later the door eased open with a creak, and a young Mother Superior opened the door.
"Oh Alexander!" said the nun, her face instantly brightening at the sight of the boy she had raised like a son. "How is my little lost lamb?" she turned to Maria, confusion and suspicion in her eyes. "Who is this Anderson?"
"I'm an orphan werewolf." said Maria flatly. "He killed my father."
The Reverend Mother stared at Anderson in blank shock. "I- I had my orders." said Anderson in a broken voice. It sounded pathetic, even to his own ears, but it was all he had. He was following orders.
Mother Superior glared at him. "Come in child. We have warm food and soft beds, you'll be fine." she led the child in and another sister took hold of her. Before she went too far she turned around and glared at Anderson. "I rarely forgive Father Anderson." she said with a mix of hate and pity in her voice. "And I never forget." with that, the beautiful young werewolf went back to the sister and walked into the convent.
Mother Superior walked back to the door, and looked at Anderson with pity in her eyes. "Calm you storms Anderson. You hunt the spawn of Hell with passion, but you need to temper it with compassion. And remember this day, for not every monster is ruled by darkness."
"Well, this is as good a start as any." said Anderson in a hollow voice.
Mother Superior nodded. "God watch over you Alexander Anderson, and may he have mercy." With that she closed the door leaving Anderson alone in the rain, wishing it could wash his sins away, as it had done for so many on the day of the Crucifixion, oh so long ago.
(End of flashback)
"I'm sorry Anderson." said Maria in a disbelieving voice. "D-did I hear you right? Did you sat zat mein brother is alive.
Anderson stood, nodded and he smiled at the German nun before him. "Aye, I believe that he is, I encountered him in Ireland." said Anderson. Maria gaped at him, her eyes filling with tears. "He's a grown man now, and a werewolf like you."
Maria shook her head. "That is impossible Anderson. The power of the wolf is passed from father to daughter and from mother to son. It cannot be passed from boy to boy. It cannot be him."
"Maria," said Anderson calmly, "I am certain of few things in this world, one: God loves all, two: we are the servants of the Lord, and three: that was your brother who attacked me in Ireland." He spoke with the same conviction that he did when he fought against the undead, but also with the same gentleness he did when he spoke to the orphans under his care. "He's a grown man now, and he's a spitting image of you're father. Who else could it have been?"
Maria shook her head. She had lived for so long without hope of seeing her family again she found it impossible to give herself any now. "H- He and mother were sent to Auschwitz! How..." she trailed off, tears in her eyes.
"It is him, I promise you Maria." said Anderson with that same calm certainty in his voice. "I swear upon my own soul, upon my parent's grave, and upon the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit that it was your brother."
Maria stared at Anderson, her father's murderer, her benefactor, the man who had protected her from Iscariot, and now he was claiming that her brother was alive. Maria began to feel hope rising in her chest and desperately tried to crush it, she couldn't have her heart broken again. And yet it continued to rise.
"Since he was defending an operative of Hellsing," continued Anderson, "I think he might be working for them now."
"Z-zat sounds like something zat he vould do." said Maria. "Little Hans, he alvays vas looking out for others."
"Bishop Maxwell is planning a meeting with the heathen woman Integra. I'll find a way to make sure you come along. If he's not there I will buy you a ticket to Ireland and we will look for him together." he promised.
"I- Is zis really happening Anderson?" asked the German girl, hope in her eyes.
Anderson smiled. "It is Maria my dear, it is." Maria threw her arms around Anderson's neck and gave him a bone crushing hug.
"I- I have so much to do," she said detaching herself from him and backing away slightly. "So many arrangements to make, people to talk to!"
"Well get to work then!" laughed Anderson.
"Of course, I will!" with that she skipped back into the convent singing something in German.
Anderson smiled happily and walked back towards his car. When Maria was happy, he was happy. When she smiled, he smiled. For you see, Anderson sinned. He sinned, for he had done something that no Priest of Iscariot is ever supposed to do.
He had fallen in love, and with a werewolf at that.
It had been unavoidable really, he had taken every opportunity to check up on her, to make sure she was okay, to try to find a way to atone for his sins. Of course she had at first treated him coldly, as would be expected, but gradually she had come to be cordial with him, and eventually became friendly when she saw he was genuinely repentant and was a changed man. They had become close friends over the years, and it couldn't be helped really.
Anderson sighed as he started the old car. It was a hopeless situation he knew that. He knew that if he tried to act on these feelings it would only end badly for the both of them. He only hoped he could find the strength within him to move on.
(Hellsing Manor)
Walter had been taken to his room, moaning in his unconscious as the venom of the werewolf coursed through his veins. Integra remained composed as ever, but Hans could tell that it was hurting her inside to see her loyal friend hurting like this.
"I am truly sorry that zis has happened." said Hans sadly.
"Well that makes two of us doesn't it." said Integra bitterly.
"If it makes you feel any better, It vill only make him into a monster if he allows it to," he said trying to make her feel better. "Valter is strong, he vill fight off ze animal."
"Master," growled Alucard from behind them. Hans and Integra spun around to see Alucard and Seras staring at them with accusatory looks. "What the hell is going on? I sensed Walter was in pain, and we came right away."
Integra sighed. "Walter has decided to become a werewolf, and had Hans bite him, with my consent of course."
The reactions of the two vampires were quite different. Alucard simply nodded and chuckled a little. "It seems like something the Angel of Death would do. At least he will still be of some use now."
Seras on the other hand...
"Why!?" she cried. "Why the hell would he choose to become a monster like us?!"
"He didn't want to become useless." said Integra sharply. "And he felt it was worth giving up his humanity to do so." The pain was clear in her voice. Suddenly her head snapped up and she began barking orders at them. "All of you! Make yourselves scarce! I've called a meeting with the Round Table to discuss this new threat and I don't need any of you lot creating a scene!"
"Yes Sir." said Hans offering a quick salute.
"Of course sir!" said Seras also saluting.
"As you wish Master." said Alucard with a flourishing bow.
"Oi! Sir Integra!" came a Scottish voice from behind Alucard and Seras. Both turned to see Bard, the red haired Scottish head chef of the Hellsing estate. "What the bloody ass fuck is going on! I mean vampires, werewolves, all that moose shit I can deal with, but what the fuck is up with the butler screaming 'is bloody head off?!" Bard was probably the only person on Earth who dared speak to Sir Integra in such a manner. The short, red haired man was cross most of the time and often had indigestion. Still, he was the best cook this side of the English channel and none dared sack him, lest they be deprived of his food, especially his cinnamon rolls.
"Walter is simply ill Bard." said Integra stiffly. "Now if you would be so king as to head home, the Round Table Council is coming for an emerg-"
"Like bloody hell I am!" cried Bard. "I've got a reputation to uphold here! I'll whip up yer little council the best damn food they've ever bloody eaten!" proclaimed the cook proudly.
"If you desire," said Integra rubbing her forehead. "But do it quickly, they'll be here any moment now."
"Right then!" grinned Bard. "I'm pop right to that then!" with a grin and a chuckle Bard wheeled around and headed for the kitchen.
"Seras, Alucard, get to your respective cells, I need to prepare the conference room." Both vampires nodded and turned to leave. "Hans, I need to speak with you for a moment." said Integra to the werewolf.
"Ja, vhat do you vish to speak to me of?"asked Hans.
"This... metamorphosis that Walter is undergoing," she began. "how long do you expect it to take, and do you think that he will survive?"
Hans sighed and ran his fingers through his snowy white hair. "It could take days, hours, months, it all depends on the person. As for if he vill live, vell, Valter seems to be strong, I am quite certain zat he shall live." he said.
Integra was visibly relieved. "Well good then, now get to your cell, the Council is due any moment now."
(A few hours later)
Two figures walked down the dirt road lined by dead trees towards Hellsing Manor followed by a blue tour bus. One had tan skin with black clothes and piercings in his lips and nose and the other was a tall blonde man in white clothes and rather dignified walk.
"So mid way through blowing me, the fucking hooker OD's on heroin!" cried the tan one.
"I really don't appreciate discussing my ex-girlfriend with you Jan." said the blonde one in a dry voice.
"I mean I still finished but what kind of shit is that?" continued Jan.
"For God's sake Jan, will you please shut up?!" said the exasperated blonde one. "A mindless drivel like this always comes out of your mouth before a job, can we just once try for some quiet dignity?"
"Yeah whatever you say Luke." grumbled Jan. The silence lasted for about twenty seconds when he said, "So did you hear about the monkey in France who-"
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." snarled Luke.
By this time the brothers and the tour bus had reached the front gate of the Hellsing Estate. Two soldiers came up, their guns drawn.
"Stop! This place is currently closed off!" barked one. "You'll have to leave the premise."
"Aw come on Mister!" cried Jan. "We're just here looking for our dog, he ran away a while back and we would really want to find him."
"I'm sorry about your dog." growled one of the soldiers. "But you still have to-"
"You can't miss him," continued Jan as though he hadn't heard. "He's about 6'6, wearing dark green, white hair, red eyes. You seen a dog like that?"
The soldiers blinked once recognizing the description of the mysterious werewolf that had recently come to the mansion. As fast as they could they raised their guns, but the brothers were faster.
Guns emerged from the windows of the bus and started blasting the soldiers until they were nothing more than a pile of mush.
"Man I am so fucking hard right now." smirked Jan.
"If you're quite done," said Luke. "Ready the ghouls and find Hellsing. I'll go take on Alucard."
"Sure thing bro!" laughed the younger Valentine brother. "Attention mindless fuck nuggets!" cried Jan as the ghouls tramped off the bus and assumed formation. "Get inside, eat any guys ya find, fuck any pussy ya see. And if ya find that backstabbing traitorous parent killer Hans... well," he smirked. "he's mine."