Disclaimer: Neither I nor this story really have any right to the character and many copyright infringements in it. I don't own any part of the Hellsing franchise, nor do I have the many $1 bills that it would take to buy a piece, so I'll just hope they don't come to my house and fine me for it.
FW: So, once again I continue the trend of getting one chapter written down and then completely losing my creative edge, a defecit which usually lasts about half a year. Man, I really am a crappy author. But don't let me persuade you. You decide for yourself, in the next text-packed chapter of Vampiric Lone Wolf Blues. Suspense, shadows, lots of reading, action, some plot and, most imporantly of all, Seras Victoria. By the way, is that really how you spell her name? I've seen about five different variations, but Seras to me is the most aesthetically pleasing, so I'll continue to misspell it for my own selfish reasons.
Vampiric Lone Wolf Blues
Chapter 2: The New Blade of the Hellsing Institution
His eyes opened slowly, groggily, and for a moment, the bed he lay in was not his own. He dreamed himself lying in a coffin, musty and dark. The air was heavy with a dead smell, a thick, choking aroma that faintly reminded him of blood. A mist of blood. He tried to wave the stench away from his face, but only stirred it up a bit. The sickly moist air stung his eyes, making him rub them viciously. As his vision cleared, the macabre deathbed had faded away, and the young exchange student sat up, in what was not a grave but his own bed, in his own dorm, at his own attending university. The morning sun could be seen floating over the edge of the horizon. He kicked off the covers, and sat on the side of the bed, stretching his limbs and bathing in the sunlight. He shrugged off the wavering wisps of dream, and stood up, ready for the day. He padded over to the fridge, and opened it up. Eggs, bacon, milk, and toast. Everything a young man would need for a good breakfast. Before he could even reach for the eggs, though, a small knock at his door caught his attention. He grabbed the milk carton, and hurried over to the door. Taking sips from the jug as he walked, he turned the knob and opened the door.
It was her. Instantly he recognized her face and wished he had kept the door closed. The cherry blonde hair, the crisp little uniform. Why was she here?
"What do you want?"
She only answered with a grin -
"What do you want!"
- exposing those pure white fangs -
"Get out of here."
- looking like an animal -
"Get out..."
- like a hunter... -
"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"
Dust-speckled moonlight flitted between the iron bars of the window. Twin lunar sparks could be seen in his eyes. The blood bottle was tilted slightly in his hand, letting small crimson beads drop to the floor. The last of the sun had retreated from sight, an age ago. His former home, only an illusion, yielded to the cold reality of his dungeon. His blood tingled from the touch of the moon, and he still felt warm, despite the cold winter's breeze. His blood was flowing before the full blue goddess. This was what he was now. This is how he would be, until oblivion take him. No beam of light, or hope for him now. No rays at all.
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Seeing the sun when you wake is a small wonder in life. That orange glow off to the east was a telltale sign that there was at least one more day to live. For the creatures of the night, the setting sun, the western rays that slowly faded away were the signal to wake, the messenger of the approaching dark. Deep underneath the ground, though, no windows allowed those golden beams to graze the eyes of young Seras Victoria. It was all the better, seeing as how a bit of sun could sear her flesh. But still retaining some of her humanity, Seras would have like to have that small luxury, the little light that marked the start of evening, the beginning of her night.
She awoke to the pitch black of her coffin, but the dark was a more welcome sight for vampires than any sunlight could be. She groped around the inside of her bed, until she grasped the small lever that would raise the cover of her mechanized coffin. The dusty air of the small space whooshed out into the room, and Seras inhaled a long breath of the cold, dungeon air. The room was by no means homely. The walls were bare, the table in the center of her room was simple, and a bit ugly, but with each passing day, the room became more and more hers. Having this haven, this sort of cave to return to, was comforting in an emotionless way. It was like returning to a fort, where safety was almost assured, after a long day's battle. It wasn't home, but it was all she had, and she could be at least a little grateful that she had such a place to return to.
Seras shifted over to the edge of the bed, and swung her legs over the side. She sat there and stretched her arms around in circles. The night before had been a hectic and long one; Seras had never gone through such an ordeal. She hadn't even received the worst of it. She let her thoughts roam, across the room, through the door, and into the chamber opposite hers that held the newest member of Hellsing's Vampiric Squad. Seras had thought that her last day as a human was a life-changing event, but for the young man housed across the hall, yesterday must have been devastating. Not only had he recieved a mortal wound and survived thourgh vampiric turning, as Seras had, but he also had begun a long life of imprisonment. Sir Integra had seen to that personally. With her hand and a little bit of blessed water, Integra had taken one resurrected soul and transformed it into an unwilling pawn in her war against the freaks. Seras herself had no branding such as that one. She was bound to Hellsing through her Master, Alucard. She had never thought to consider the mechanics of Alucard's servitude to Integra. It was a strange that such an entity as the powerful Nosferatu would succumb to human command willingly. Seras saw her Master's obvious respect for Integra, but she never learned exactly how he could be chained to a human master.
Seras caught the refraction of light against the little blood packet that lay in a bucket of ice. She sighed as she hoisted herself out of bed and took a seat on the one chair in the room. She peeled of the top of the pouch with a nail, and poured the contents into a ceramic bowl. Instead of drinking it, though, Seras just stared at it. Her own crimson reflection stared back up at her, hesitant and uneasy. In a way, she was chained to this drink as any prisoner was to his cell. A necessity of 'life'. If she did not drink, her body would decompose and deteriorate. So logically, she should drink: yet for the longest time, that lingering clump of resistance said "no". Seras had overcome that feeling, that sense of cannibalism. She now drank her fill, and maintained her strength at a level which her Master approved of. Now, by no means was she the hunter that he was, or wanted her to be, but it slowly became easier to embrace herself fully, and allow bloodsucking to become a normalcy.
After finishing a bowl, Seras donned her uniform and exited her room. Today was a routine day at the Hellsing Mansion. With the ever-changing enviroments and situations that the troopers were forced to deal with on a daily basis, the commanders and higher-ups deemed it necessary to exercise a rigorous training course that would prepare them for any contingency, and Seras made the perfect opponent in the exercises. They could train against someone who had all of the strengths and weaknesses that they would encounter in their real sorties. Alucard would not train with the group, for his prided dictated that such games were underneath him, and neither Integra nor Seras bothered to ask him. In fact, Seras was convinced that he would even disobey Sir Hellsing if she ever gave that order, but they would never find out. From the time Seras arrived on the team, she was the soldiers' training dummy; she was a walking, talking, and unforgiving dummy, though, and she held no quarter for anyone foolish enough to underestimate her. Most of the troops were familiar with her ferocity during practice, but the occasional rookie that dared to cross her would end up on the receiving end of an insulted whirlwind.
Seras closed the door behind her and looked forward. Only a wooden door with small lock separated Seras from the simmering rage in that room. The innate sense that vampires had, that ability to feel things, hinted her off to the trouble boiling just a few feet away. Seras couldn't see him, but she knew. She did and didn't see him sitting in his chair, head in his hands, containing his frustration. The third eye: it was like imagining a pencil, the colors and the shape, and seeing it, but not really seeing it. The physical and mental alike could be known by a vampire through this mystical connection with the universe; the thoughts bouncing around the captive's head were nearly audible to Seras.
Despair.
Isolation.
Uselessness.
Unforgiving and Unforgivable.
The Mark. The Restraint. Freedom severed.
The Master. The Dog. The Soldier. Her Eyes. Her Ears. In My Head. STAY OUT OF MY HEAD!
The silent scream slapped Seras in the face. She literally stumbled backwards from the force of it. A searing pain within her head ripped through, and brought a harsh beat to her temples, but it subsided after a second. She grasped her head with both hands, and tried to shake it off. Her intrusion had cost her clarity of mind, and a little bit of dignity. Fumbling around the hall, she felt defeated like a younger sibling who tried to wrestle the oldest one. She had been tossed aside like a rag doll, and so easily, too. How embarassing.
How embarassing, indeed. You cross the threshold into another's mind, you should hold your position there, exert your authority. Mind games are not childish ones, Policewoman.
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"I think you grant the boy too much, Walter, without ever having seen what exactly he can do."
"A good point, Sir Integra, but I do pride myself as a good judge of potential."
"I hope you remember that this boy is a student, and has no experience with this kind of work at all."
"Neither did Miss Seras, if you remember."
"She, at least, was a policewoman, albiet a shy and poorly trained one."
"And you think he cannot be trained?"
"He is a caged animal, Walter. You cannot train the wild dog until he is tamed."
"Are you implying that the young man is not fully under your control?"
"Of course he is, Walter. Don't insult me. I'm questioning his willingness to participate, to take the training and our Godly mission seriously."
"Can you not order him to follow?"
"In theory. But whatever I say, he will have elbow room for 'interpretation', and I don't want him endangering anything by finding loopholes in my orders."
"Then bargain with him. Offer him something in return for his loyalty."
"And just what do I offer him, his freedom? He will have only one request, and I cannot and will not grant him release."
"Are you so meek that you cannot assert your authority over your pet."
"Walter..."
"I beg your pardon, Sir."
"...No, your right. If it must be, the iron fist of God and Hellsing will be tightened, to as far as need be. His soul is of Hellsing now, and he acts under God Almighty. He will obey. Walter?"
"Yes, Sir?"
"If he is going to fight, he will need to compliment Seras' style. If one takes the hgh road, the other takes the low road. If Seras is range..."
"Then the young man will be close?"
"Yes. I think weapons similar to those of the priest would be useful."
"Bayonets?"
"Daggers, Walter. Twin daggers of holy silver, blessed in ceremony, named after the angels."
"I understand, Sir. These weapons will be an enjoyable project."
"Well don't take too long on them. He's going to have more. He's going to be a versatile blade for Hellsing. He's going to be a walking armory."
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Seras glanced down the hall; she knew the voice and tone of her Master, and recoginzed a gentle reprimand. She approached him swiftly, and took a seat before him. He had on the signature smug smile he always wore, even before he came into view.
"That kind of bold move was not one I would have expected from you, youngling. It is an odd thing when another of our own is taken into our wings, but you seem especially interested in him."
Seras lowered her head. "Well, Master... I didn't mean to..."
"You sound disappointed, Policegirl."
"Well, I know I shouldn't have, but..."
"You are a vampire, Seras Victoria. Above that, you are of my house. When where you told that another's mind was off limits to you?"
"Well, that kind of intrusion, it's... it's immoral."
Alucard laughed. Demonic and cold, it was not a laugh that would brighten your spirits. Seras got the distinct feeling that he was laughing at her, not at anything that was terribly funny.
"You take what you want, Policewoman, whether it be thoughts, blood, or life. If the victim cannot stop you, then did he really deserve to stop you? Abandon what you perceive as moral, for the execution of freaks could be considered immoral by the same line of thought. Do you see?"
"Yes, Master... I see." Seras did understand. Alucard possessed the instincts of a hunter: what he could take, what he wanted to take, he did. The world was laid down at his feet, and he was one with the will to pick it up. It was an admirable trait, Seras thought, but sometimes his style was just a bit too harsh for her, and sent shivers down her spine.
"If you wanted to know what he was thinking, you either ask it of him, or enter his mind and read it for yourself." Alucard could sense she was still doubtful, but decided to let it go. "On a similar note, I would like to know your thoughts on the matter. Tell me, Policegirl, what do you think of our new comrade-in-arms?"
This question posed quite a puzzle to Seras. After such a long lecture over his theory of obtaining information, her Master would ask for her opinion, not just read it?
"You forget that you are of my blood, and I do respect the property of my own kin."
Seras almost smiled. She was of his blood, and he knew everything she did, or saw, or thought. She was an open book to him; he wouldn't have to ask her anything, except for the fact that he held his own bloodline in some regard.
"Well, Master... It's his pain that catches my attention. In all aspects of the word, he is a prisoner under Integra, and from what I could feel, he doesn't really appreciate it, although that does seem a bit obvious. I wouldn't be too happy to be forced into servitude."
"You serve me."
"Yes, but... I chose, Master. You asked me, and I answered yes. Integra... she branded him, Master. That doesn't sit right in my mind."
"She was stronger than him, and she wanted his being, so she took it. Didn't I just teach you this?"
"Yes, Master, and I understand; I just can't seem to weed out this uneasiness."
"Don't let humanity cloud your judgment. He is vampire, and left roaming the streets, it is likely that he would end up another crazed disgrace, and Integra could not allow that. Besides that, you would have been the one to hunt him down, and I'm sure he wouldn't have appreciated that."
Seras almost responded to his last statement, when she saw that her Master's attention was no longer on her. That last remark wasn't even directed towards her. Seras turned her head, and saw the young man standing in front of his door, staring down the passage at the two vampires. Obviously, he had heard Alucard speaking, and Seras wouldn't put it past her Master to intentionally allow the man to hear it. Seras caught the other man's gaze, but he broke contact and proceeded to exit the dungeon. Seras noticed that he had no shirt, and his tattered jeans had been cut down to a pair of shorts. Several thin scars criss-crossed his body, most likely relics from his accident. A large, irregular scar was emblazoned on his back: a flag revealing where he had been impaled. Seras could not see the sealing figure on the front, but she couldn't keep her mind off it. It was Integra's brand, and Seras couldn't help but wonder what powers it afforded Integra.
"By the way... I believe my Master wants to speak with you, young one. It's best you not keep her waiting."
Seras nodded to the aged demon, got up, and followed the coarse figure up the stairs to Integra's office.
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"I hope you fully understand the situation and the law under which you serve."
"You mean, as a slave?"
"I don't appreciate that kind of tone. You will not use it again."
"..."
"You are here because you cannot be out there. You and I are put in undesireable positions."
"And just how is this undesirable for you?"
"I'd rather you never even existed."
"..."
"Since we cannot escape this fate, we will cope, and work together to make the best of it."
"I will not be a pawn for your voodoo games."
"Don't insult the nature of my work."
"..."
"Let me make this clear. You are under my direct orders whether you want to listen or not. You are now uncontrolablly compelled to obey my every command. I will not tolerate any smart-ass loopholes. I forbid it here and now. You are to cooperate with the agents I place you with, particularly Miss Victoria, who will be your team leader. Don't place her or the institution's well-being at risk. Do I make myself clear?"
"...Crystal..."
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Seras stood before the portal to Integra's office. She faced the towering double doors, two great oak giants with a glossy finish and ornate figures carved into them. After following them around a bit, Seras was able to make out a mural of the Devil's battle against Heaven. Of course, the angels of the Lord were shown to be triumphant, but she found it a tad ironic that the angels being employed to carry out Integra's "Holy" missions were creatures that could be kin to Lucifer and his demons. Seras didn't consider herself an angel, by any right, but she did find the analogy appropriate.
Seras made to open the door, but she stopped short when she caught wisps of the conversation going on inside. Integra, of course, along with the newcomer, were inside talking. After a few seconds, Seras concluded that it was Integra doing the talking, and he was simply listening. Or maybe just pretending to listen. In his situation, Seras would think that he would have nothing to do with anything of Hellsing, but under Integra's binding spell, he was chained here. The intensity of the words that were being thrown from behind those doors was almost like a scent. Seras could sense the tension, the quarrel between human and vampire, master and slave, holy and damned. Although Seras had been ordered to report, she was extremely reluctant to even approach the doors again. It wasn't anything she would be pleased to interrupt. But still... Seras grabbed the handles, and almost pulled, but she stopped herself. Just a bit more. I can wait unti they're done... No, I need to suck it up and report in. She calmed herself, and again pulled...
... Just as the man pushed the doors open. He came stormed out with full intent to immediately retreat as far away as possible from Integra. His goal was not to be so immediately reached, though. He came face to face with Seras, and halted just a foot away from her. She took a good, long glimpse at him. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every which way. The tattered remains of his clothing did little to cover his scarred body, and Seras again laid eyes on the sealing pentagram that had shackled this young man. His face was contorted in anger, and his eyes burned with hate and aggression. The same anger echoed from his mind. But through all that, Seras could still see something else. There was a passive reluctance sifting within him. His eyes reflected a piercing sadness and frustration along with the lothing and fiery resistance. He simply glared at her, and sidestepped away, back into the dungeon where he might find momentary peace.
"Seras." The voice of Sir Integra of Hellsing floated out from the lofty entrance, and Seras pushed aside all thoughts of the young man as she approached her other Master in an informal formality.
"Sir."
Integra couldn't help but cover her mouth to stifle a small smile. Seras' mannerisms where always peculiar to her, not crisp, but not disprespectful, either. It was a reflection of her personality, Integra would have to suppose. She managed to regain a poker face and continued on.
"You have of course been aware of our new friend's prescense?"
"Yes, and of his... disdain."
"Well, that is a bit of a concern for all of this Institution. A rebellious soldier is undesirable, and his status as a vampire only compounds the situation."
"Forgive my rudeness, but I was under the impression that that was the problem in the first place."
"How true. It is difficult, extremely difficult to figure out just how to deal with a vampire. We have of course adopted the common practice of exterminating them, but only those who have commited crimes against humanity. Impure souls of the living dead. As far as we know, this man was a victim, not a trespasser, so we cannot so easily dispose of him."
"So we keep him."
"That is an undesirable option, Seras. If he were a willing participant in our cause, then this whole mess would be non-existant. I would rather be his leader, rather than his keeper. But... we are reduced to little choice. We must 'keep' him, for the general public's sake, but it would be a gross offense in itself if we just chained him up for an eternity. And of course, he would be found. Of that I have no doubt."
Seras knew what Integra was referring to. The incident so many years ago, when Integra stumbled upon the decayed Alucard. And that was just by accident. When Hellsing was all said and done, and a curious treasure hunter came snooping around the basement...
"So he is an unwilling participant in our mission, then?"
Integra sighed. "That is how things have shaped up to be. And what makes it even more difficult is another matter which has come into our knowledge." Seras' ears twitched at the prospect of new information. "It appears that our Catholic counterpart, Iscariot, has not been idle these past few months. Since our heated conflicts as of late have not gone as well for Section XIII, they have taken the liberty of increasing their own fighting force significantly, by anointing another high-calibur warrior."
"Another?" Seras' jaw tensed. She had never had a pleasant run-in with Iscariot. In fact, she has always received significant wounds from engagements with a certain individual, a warrior-priest of a feral and dangerous nature. "Anderson?"
"Another similar to Anderson. A regenerator. A paladin. A holy warrior blessed by the Pope, and made for a single job. To wipe the earth clean of the heathens and the unholy. Alucard, being the surest one in Hellsing to perform such a mission, will try and discover when and where the secret ceremony will be performed. After all, they would not want their new soldier dead before he could ever defend himself."
Seras lowered her eyes. This was new territory for her. Not only did the newcomer add tension to the atmosphere, but the fact that Integra would release such information to her indicated how much Integra had begun to trust her.
"What would my assignment be then, Sir?"
"Very simply, you are in charge of our new agent." Seras' eyes widened. "You have, until now, acted as a solo operative, but if this young man is going to be a part of our organization, he cannot be left alone, and you would do well to have a teammate, seeing as how you are not so experienced as Alucard is."
Seras nodded. She understood Integra's reasoning, although it still made her uneasy to think that Integra would give her this much responsibility. She bowed to Integra. "Understood, Sir." Integra gestured her away, dismissing her from the meeting. Seras quickly exited the room, leaving Integra to contemplate the situation alone.
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Seras leaned against the wall of the Hellsing Mansion, and sighed a deep sigh of burden. All of this new information, about the new vampire, the new regenerator, and her own increased responsibilities had a lump in her throat the size of London, and she couldn't quite stomach it. So much had been thrown at her at once. She looked up to the night sky for comfort, and found it in a full moon, wispy behind a thin veil of clouds. The solemn moonlight was like the sun to her skin, cool where sunlight was warm, but soothing just the same.
She relaxed in the still quiet, when her drifting mind came to realize another prescence nearby. It was the young man. He was close. Seras opened her ears, her nose, and her mind, and followed the trail of his being up onto the roof. He too, was enjoying a blue-moon's midnight. Seras got up from the wall, and made her way around to the side, where a ladder was set up, leading straight up top. Seras climbed up, and before she completely mounted the roof, she got the boy's attention with a whistle. He cocked his head to the side and stared at her.
"Do you mind if I join you?" He took a long time in answering. He blinked a few times, as if judging her intentions, but eventually his suspicisons subsided, and he waved her over with his hand. She hopped up onto the roof, and took a seat beside him.
For a long moment, neither said a word. They both stared into the sky, watching the clouds pass in front of their moon. It was hard to think of something to say, considering the situation they were in, but Seras resolved herself to say something that might at least be taken as a friendly gesture.
"I don't understand what you're going through, never having gone through it myself, but I would hope that there might be some way to... make the whole thing easier."
He snickered and turned away, brushing aside her suggestion, but after a moment, he looked back at her. "Maybe you're right, but that doesn't make the whole prospect of warming up to my slaveholder pleasing."
"I wouldn't expect it to, but... what I'm trying to say, is that maybe, between us at least, there would be so much animosity. We are going to be working together. It would be easier if we were on... better terms."
The young man focused himself, and really looked at her. She was extremely nervous in trying to talk to him, to be friendly. She had drawn up her knees to her chest, and was hugging them tightly. Her eyes, which were peaked over her kneecaps, were distant and timid. She was fidgety, and trying not to make eye contact with him. He lowered his eyes in embarassment at causing her discomfort, and picked up the conversation.
"Well, I don't want you to worry, Miss..."
"Seras. Seras Victoria."
The young vampire extended his hand. "I'm Victor Saint Walker."
Seras, noticed his gesture, and returned the handshake with a small smile. "Saint?"
Victor nodded. "It was my mother's maiden name. My name before that was Victor Luis Walker-Saint, but when my father died, my mother had my name changed to 'Saint Walker', in order to honor my father. My friends jokingly call me Saint because of that."
"Saint... Well, it's a unique name. You don't see alot of that kind of naming here in England."
"Seras... That isn't quite a common name either, is it?"
"I don't think so, but I don't know where it comes from. It's certainly not as interesting as 'Saint'."
"Yeah, but Victoria's a pretty name."
Seras grinned. They left it at that for a while, and let the tense atmosphere melt away. Seras was beginning to see that it would be possible to get along with Saint, if only she could continue to identify him. Integra had alienated him, so to work together, Seras would have to integrate him into the Hellsing way of life. It wouldn't be easy, but by just talking to him, Seras felt more comfortable in his presense.
"So we'll be working together, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm."
Seras shot him a puzzled look. "What does that 'hmm' mean?"
"It means that I'm thinking. I wonder how easy a set-up this will be."
Seras took in his response, mulled over it a bit, then stood up. She walked over to the edge of the roof, and was about to descend, when she twisted around, and shot the bewildered Saint a toothy smile. "It'll only be as easy as you make it out to be. I look forward to working with you." And with that, she hopped down the ladder, and went back inside. Saint was left to consider her offer.
Work with her, huh? It'd still be giving in to that blonde slavedriver, but... If it was with Seras, I think I could stomach a bit of work. He sighed, and looked on past the horizon, imagining his home, across the mighty Atlantic. I still don't deserve this. This is cruel, and unusual, and completely unnecessary. Do they think I'm gonna end up like some crazed animal? It's insulting. Saint thought back to Seras. I guess... I have no choice. I'll play along for now. It shouldn't be too hard, working with her.
Saint set his resolve to play the fool, and see how the story unfolded. Of course, desire for his home and homeland still lingered within his heart, but that goal was far and hazy. It would take some work to win the smallest freedom, but if he could get back what he had before the bite, or even part of that life, then it was worth it. Maybe, by working with these exterminators, he could learn something useful. Possibly even a way to escape the soul grip Integra held over him. But whatever the case, his decision to participate would set the tone for the future to come. The conflict would be fierce, and the path would be tough to follow, but at the end of his road, possibilities lay boundless, and upon reaching the end, he need but reach out and pluck the fruits of his labor. As for now, though, he would simply have to wait, for time would be the factor, the catalyst for the formula, the instrument for this somber song.
AN: Allright, allright, now we're getting somewhere. If I could finish this thing by the end of my senior year, I'll be a happy man. So, for all those who support me, please continue. I'm gonna need every ounce of mental constitution I can muster to keep these fingers flying. Criticize me, I need it! I need feedback. Call me a dumbass, I don't care. I want this story to mesh, to work, to end strong, so that I can say "Holy Crap, I did that." Oh, and Mexico rules. VW, represent.