Chapter 1: Close Encounters
"Seras, you take a group of three men around back. We need photos of the evidence. Jack, when she returns with her group, I want you to take another group of three inside and find any clues you can about the criminal's whereabouts."
Following my father's orders, I instructed the three closest officers to follow me to the back of the suburban, two-storey dwelling in downtown Toronto. The home itself was average looking, with red bricks, a single door, and a neatly trimmed lawn. Other than the police tape surrounding the area, and the few, slightly larger-than-average groups of spectators, it appeared no different than the other homes on the street. It felt like any other night, with the crisp air of early spring, and the soft chirping of the crickets, hidden in the nearby shrubbery.
At the back of the house, my team and I were greeted with the stench of blood, still fresh and sharp in the air. The backyard of the home consisted of a set of garden chairs, now stacked at one corner of the area, a small fruit tree planted right at the back of the yard, and the now cordoned off section where the four, small bodies of the victims lay.
I'd never been very good around scenes like this, which was odd for someone who was a member of the murder investigations branch of the police department. I had trouble raising my gun at anything, and often times, when my team needed me to subdue a criminal on the run, I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger. Something about the way the guilty patron acted just didn't allow me to shoot. I couldn't do it. It was a bad habit I needed to grow out of soon, or being a member of this particular police squad would be next to impossible.
I asked one of the three men on my team to begin photographing the area, while the other two skimmed the scene for any leftover evidence or clues. I remained by the gate to the backyard, my gun raised out in front of me, prepared to shoot. Despite that fact, I knew that if the need did arise, I would probably never actually shoot anyone.
Minutes went by, and eventually, my team finished up with our duties. We grouped together and made our way back to the front of the house.
When we met up with the rest of our unit, I immediately noticed that something was off. Jack's group stood anxiously in front of the house's front door, waiting to head inside. The rest of the squad was spread out in pairs or groups of three, seemingly standing around doing nothing, which was highly unusual for a busy group like us. My father was nowhere to be seen.
I rushed up the front steps and to Jack's side. He smiled as I approached him, saying, "Hey there, kitten."
I was growing more confused by the second. Anxiously furrowing my brow, I asked, "Where did my dad go?"
Jack's eyes scanned the area, looking above and around me, but never at me. After he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he directed his attention to me. "He's talking to that dude over there," he said, pointing across the street where my dad, in his chief officer uniform, was speaking to a man clad in a long, red, coat and an equally rouge fedora.
"Who is that?" I asked, thinking aloud.
Jack just shook his head. "I don't know. None of us know. He just showed up a few minutes ago and demanded to speak to whoever was in charge. If he's one of those feds…" Jack trailed off.
Recently, we'd been getting into trouble with the government. I know, that's rather ironic for the police, but for some reason, the federal government continuously sent people to make sure that we accomplished nothing involving recent murders or rapes, specifically any sort of gang related incidents. It was like we were being told not to do our job by the very people who employed us. It didn't make sense, but since we were powerless to the government, we had no choice but to follow.
Another minute went by, and my dad continued to speak to the man in red. From across the street, the man appeared to be standing almost completely still, with only the wind slightly skewing his dark hair and drape-like coat, whereas my dad spoke in very animated movements, with his arms waving and his head shaking every few statements. As I watched their conversation progress, I began to approach my father and his visitor.
Nearing the pair of men, I asked, "What's going on?"
I stopped at my father's side and turned to look up at the man in red in front of us.
He was tall, over six feet, wearing a simple black suit under his red coat. His hair was choppy and black, cut to fall just above his shoulders and below his ears. His eyes were covered by a pair of glasses with golden-red coloured lenses, completely shrouding his eyes. From my angle, he appeared to be menacing and downright creepy. I gulped without thinking, and averted my eyes from the strange man.
"This," said my dad, turning to me, "is Alucard. He's a representative from the Hellsing Organization."
I blinked at him. "Hellsing? You mean…" my voice trailed off as I caught sight of the man again. He had a strange look on his face. He looked prideful and almost happy to standing where he was. Something about him seemed off, and I disliked standing so near to him.
My dad finished my sentence for me. "Yes, the federal government. Apparently, according to their protocols, we don't have permission to investigate this case any longer, so, we've gotta leave. Now."
I scowled, but didn't say anything. On the inside, I wanted to throttle the man in red, Alucard, and to tell him that the government could go stick their stupid protocols up their asses, but as a member of the police force, it was my duty to protect the city by direction of the government. So, naturally, I did as I was told.
"Your cooperation is greatly appreciated," the man said. His voice was gritty, almost like a growl, and if I wasn't mistaken, I could swear that he'd said that statement with a lot of sarcasm.
With that, my dad and I turned to leave. From our position across the street, my dad radioed Jack and told him to have the men withdraw. He ordered everyone to head back to the station for a quick meeting to review protocols once more. Sighing, I followed my dad back towards our team.
Just as we stepped off the curb, a shadow flickered to my right. I only just saw it out of the corner of my eye, a small twitch of movement that was barely noticeable. I stopped walking and turned to see what had caused the disturbance.
Standing just off the curb, I panned my eyes over the area, looking for something out of place. Seeing nothing that alarmed me, I turned back to my dad, and screamed.
A man, with short blond hair, glasses, and a stark white suit, had managed to restrain my dad. I watched as the man shifted his position to reveal that he had a knife held to my father's throat. The look in the newcomer's eyes said that if we made a move, my dad would die.
Instantly, the street plunged into chaos.
The police squad radioed in for back up, the bystanders of the scene dispersed in rushes of bodies, and the man, Alucard, raised a gun in the direction of my dad and his captor.
I stood, frozen in place by fear, shock, and confusion. My gun remained trained on Alucard for reasons unknown, as I watched the rest of the scene play out in front of me, as if I was outside my body, watching from above. I felt disconnected from the scene, and I could make myself to nothing more than shake and stare ahead.
Alucard's gun, a large, sliver weapon with delicate engravings along the barrel, was pointed at the head of the man holding my father hostage. I could see Alucard's lips moving, but I couldn't hear a sound. The usual noises of the night were drowned out by a large, rushing sound. After a moment, I realized that I was hearing my own blood flowing in my ears.
I didn't know what I wanted to have happen next; I just I wanted this to end.
Alucard released the safety on the gun, and as he pulled the trigger, a citizen, panicked and lost, slammed into the larger man, knocking him off balance.
I watched, horrified, as the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. Terrified screams immediately responded, followed by the dull thud of a body hitting to pavement. The man holding my father had fled by this point.
Alucard had missed his target, and instead, had shot my father in the chest.
I felt the gun slip from my fingers, clattering against the road. I sensed a pair of eyes turn their attention to me in response, most likely Alucard's, but I didn't even glance at him.
In a daze, I felt myself shuffling forward, towards my dad. I felt wetness on my face and an ache in my chest. I immediately thought it was raining, but I realized that the moisture was tears, and the heaviness weighing me down was pain.
I kept hearing laughter echoing through my skull. It was familiar, but hollow and distorted. I felt myself glancing from left to right, looking for the source. Only after I'd neared my daddy did I realize that I was hearing a memory of his laughter.
I dropped to my knees in front of my father's corpse, searching his neck for a pulse I knew I wouldn't find. My own pulse thundered loudly in my ears, so loud that I was certain everyone in the area could hear it. I felt numbness flow through my limbs, replacing the blood in my veins. As I reached out and placed a hand on my father's rapidly paling cheek, the world suddenly went out of focus with tears. I watched as a few droplets landed on my father's forehead, mixing with the blotches of blood that stained his otherwise peaceful face.
"Daddy…" I said, a sob forcing its way out of my chest, "Daddy, it's me. Wake up."
I couldn't hold myself together after that. I felt all of the walls I'd learned to keep up, the ones that made investigating a murder a little easier to bear, come crashing down in the form of painful, racking sobs. I buried my face in my father's bloodied chest, holding him close, wanting him to move and tell me that he'd be fine, that it was just a scratch.
But I knew that it would never happen.
"Kid," I heard someone say in a deep, throaty voice.
Alucard.
I tore my eyes away from my father and onto the face of the man who'd done this to him. His glasses were no longer obscuring his eyes, revealing their poisonous red colour, like his coat. I could see the regret and anger the man felt in them, the distaste he felt for his actions. He looked pained, yet as if he was denial, like he refused to accept what he'd done.
"I meant to save him, not hurt him," he said, crouching down my level. Instantly, I began to panic.
The shock, the anger, and the confusion, all came tumbling out of me.
"No," I said, dropping my father's corpse against the asphalt, "Get away from me." I scrambled backwards, trying to get away from the man in red.
I felt bad about leaving my dad there, all alone on the pavement. But, if he, Alucard, killed my father, would he try to kill me, too? A part of me knew he wouldn't try to harm me anymore than he already had, but a part of me was so afraid, so terrified of this man that I felt the need to flee immediately.
My father would've scolded me for acting like that, after spending hours going over basic first aid and minor medical training with me. He would've wanted me to calmly think about his injury, whether or not treatment was possible or necessary, and then move on. He would never want me to hold onto something that's already happened. But this, this was uncalled for. He never told me what to do if he was the one who'd gotten hurt. He never told me how to fix the giant ache in my chest, or how to subdue the scream-like sobs that came with losing someone you loved.
Daddy, I need you. Where are you now? I thought.
I heard Alucard sigh impatiently. "Kid, hey," he said, standing up again. Seeing him tower above me, the light of the streetlamps causing his eyes to glow a fiery red, I felt more fear pool in the pit of my stomach. "Would you relax?" he said, taking a step towards me.
I didn't want anything to do with this man. He'd broken my father beyond repair, taken my only family from me, turned me away from doing my job, and now he wanted me to relax? Yes, he worked for the feds, and he did have some control over my job, but that didn't mean he could control how I felt. He killed my father for crying out loud.
I could hear my father's disapproving voice, telling me off for being so rude to a man who had ultimately saved the rest of my team. I could hear him telling me about the sacrifices that would have eventually had to be made, by him, or other members of the force. He'd told me that people would be hurt. He just never said that that person might be him.
"No," I said, panic rising in my voice, "Don't touch me!" I got up, my vision blurring again, but this time, tears weren't the reason why. Stumbling over my own feet, I tried to run in the opposite direction of the man. Alucard grunted and grabbed a hold of my arm, pulling me towards him. "Get away from me!"
"Daddy! Daddy, help me!" I screeched. "Daddy, come back! Daddy!"
He held me firmly by my wrists as I struggled against his strong grip, feebly attempting to free myself while yelling exactly how I felt about this man as loud as I could. I shouted, I screamed, and I cried for my father to save me, futilely trying to make my voice heard over the thundering of my blood and the clamor of the street.
My frantic cries mixed with his murmurs, his attempts to calm me down, but I completely disregarded him.
"Daddy," I whispered, as my consciousness began to fade, "I love you."
I felt my head become light, my eyelids become droopy, and as the police squad finally noticed what was happening to me, I watched, my eyes half open with shock, as concern filled Alucard's eyes, and the world around me faded into a thick, murky blackness, while my father's voice beckoned me to come to him.
Alucard
The police girl fainted, slumping into his arms. He lurched forward and caught her thin body. She was so frail, so light, he noticed. He couldn't help thinking that she shouldn't be working a job like the one she was. But, this one was a daddy's girl. She'd do whatever her dad said until the very end. Hell, she probably would've let herself die for him.
Alucard scoffed at the thought. He'd never understood that about people. He'd never understood why people would willingly give up their own goddamn life for another human being. It was common sense to save your own skin in times of danger, not jump straight into the line of fire for them. People could be so stupid sometimes, but then again, so could he.
As he cradled the girl's body in his arms, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: guilt.
It clawed at him, struggling past his façades of calmness and quiet. It surged something within him, something powerful, something he'd spent years trying to get rid of. Anger and distaste for himself resurfaced, making him want to hand the girl over to her team and head to the nearest bar for a drink. He felt his limbs grow heavy, the weight of his actions crushing him.
Crap, he thought. Integra would never let him hear the end of this. Hell, he thought, maybe I'll finally get fired, and leave this godforsaken job for good.
Though he thought that, he knew he didn't mean it. Integra meant a lot to him. She was the reason that he'd broken his chronic drinking and taken up tasteful wine tasting instead. She changed him, but this, he thought, looking down at the face of the girl in his arms, this had changed him, too. This had changed him into something he didn't want to be.
Not only had he ruined another person's life, he'd also let Anderson get away, again. He'd sworn, after the last time he'd encountered that piece of Iscariot shit, to kill Anderson with a bullet from his gun. He needed Anderson dead. That man had done too much wrong in his life, and needed to be sent straight home to Hell.
He approached the girl's team, and told them that he'd take care of her from here. The team didn't object; they couldn't. One member, a young boy, probably no older than the girl, neared him, his eyes filled with a deep sadness, and something else, something Alucard knew he often expressed in his own eyes.
Anger.
"We'll take the chief," the boy said, his voice cracking as he glanced at the girl, defeated and worn-out, in Alucard's arms.
"I'm sure that's what he'd want," he said, looking away from the police boy's torturous gaze.
The way he looked at the girl, the anger in his eyes, made Alucard think that the boy was close with the girl. Alucard realized that he needed to leave, or this police boy might send him to visit the girl's dad.
As he turned to leave, Alucard called out to the police boy. "She'll be fine," he said, "I promise."
The boy didn't say anything for a moment, but, before he turned away, he said, "She will never forgive you, so just do yourself a favour and stay away from her, and from us, from now on." With that, boy strode forward to meet up with his team.
They say there's strength in numbers, something Alucard never thought was true as a solo act. But, seeing the way the other police members consoled the boy, made his thoughts shift. They were many people that worked as a single unit, a greater whole. Alucard couldn't help but feel slightly guiltier about breaking that unity.
He scowled, turning towards the main road. The hospital was down the block, and the girl would get treated much faster if he brought her in himself.
As he walked down the sidewalks, passing confused onlookers and other pedestrians, Alucard repeatedly told himself that it wasn't his fault. It was an accident. He needed to hear that, he needed to know that that was true, in order for him to move on.
He glanced at the girl again. Her face was contorted into an expression of pain. Her hands were clasped into fists, resting against his chest. She was mostly still, but he could feel her shaking slightly in his arms.
He would fix this, he thought, setting his jaw in a hard line. I will fix this.
Author's Note: I would just like to let everyone know how grateful and surprised I was with the positive reception to the prologue of this story, so thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, or followed myself or this story. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I seriously try to use any and all feedback I receive to better myself as a writer, so reviews are particularly appreciated. I think that's all I've got to say. Just please be patient until I'm satisfied with the next chapter enough to upload it, and as always,
Thanks for reading.
-Shan