The Banana Slug: Sorry if the last chapter seemed like a retelling of the first part of Volume I, but it was done for familiarities' sake. It is still a mystery if it is for MY familiarity or yours.

But to break it, it is time to introduce one more member for the League. And it has nothing to do with Edward Hyde, I have to try and be a LITTLE original as possible.

Hellsing's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

By The Banana Slug

CHAPTER 2: Eyes of a Child

Rio de Janairo, Brazil

Late June, 2009

It was beautiful, the city was tall and proud with their savior up on the mountain with his arms wide with want of friendship. In the bay, people would stop and gawk to see a large submarine disguised as a great battle between two undersea titans.

Inside another battle was waged, as Quatermain laid on the cold steel floor of a small isolated room with only a bed for comfort. He laid crouched in a fetal position, naked and shivering. He bit his lower lip as the sound of waves caused him torment, slamming his hands against his head and screaming in pure torture.

His body began to grow loose, writhing on the floor like a salamander as he looked at the light from outside coming from the porthole above his bed. He reached out and climbed his bed as he looked outside with fear, seeing the city of Rio de Janairo before him. A gull suddenly landed in front of the window so suddenly and squawked. Leonard jumped back, falling on his ass and panting loudly. He gulped and closed his eyes, shaking his head in defiance as he attempted to get his mind clear from the poison that he so yearned.

He looked up to see the locked door of the isolated room, flipping around and climbing up the door to the porthole. He poked his head from underneath and looked out like a curious child, sweating and hyperventilating. He saw a blonde Englishwoman drinking tea with a scraggly yet refined gentleman and the captain of this submarine, and at the back was the man in red, Dracula, looking out the window with his back turned to Quatermain.

Integra glanced over to see Quatermain gazing at them all, sighing and shaking her head at his isolated persona. "Are you quite sure about this, Mr. Bond?" she said with scorn, "You can see that this…man, this Quatermain is quite out of his head."

"Meth is a terrible and destructive drug," sighed Bond regretfully, "I doubt he will be fully cured, but despite this, he is a fine marksman sober and from a long line of-"

"Yes yes, I heard all that!" snapped Integra in annoyance, "But I am afraid this apple fell far from the tree."

"Oh…really?" scoffed Alucard, turning and saying with wit, "Allan Quatermain was a opium-sot, Zaroff was a bigot with a cocaine addiction, and his father was an alcoholic. For a Quatermain, he's not that different."

Integra's brow twitched in annoyance, closing her eyes from Bond's amused smile. "Yes…reality is quite harsh. To think I read about the exploits of his predecessors," complained Integra calmly, before looking over at Captain Nemo, whom was simply looking at her tea with her hands clasped over the glass. Integra then remarked calmly, "As I have read the exploits of your family, Captain. But while the Quatermains, save one, were always the favored of the Empire's clans. Your's, save one, have always been its greatest nightmare."

Nehal hesitated, but couldn't help but smirk at Integra's comment. "Yes…well, the winning side always writes the history books. No?"

"Hm, quite," said Integra before taking another sip of her tea, then questioning the lady-killing James Bond with a distrusting tone, "Now then, about this…other member. I do not feel comfortable with a murderous juggernaut on this League."

"Oh? What do you call Alucard then?" chuckled James Bond as he took a sip of his tea.

"A murderous juggernaut I can control," remarked Integra angrily, "The person you want for this League is a wild animal. A serial killer. I am surprised the police have not arrested this creature."

"Hm…the problem is not that they haven't, it's that they can't," said James Bond darkly, "This man…is unstoppable. Just as unstoppable as Alucard. Many raids have been attempted, all have ended in bloodshed. With him, nothing can stop us. As they say, no kill like overkill."

"And this…other member," questioned Integra, "This…Mr. Griffin. Where is he?"

"Held in a prison back home," answered Bond, "waiting for us to pick him up. He's agreed to be on a special type of 'parole' to escape the death sentence. We would have never caught him if not for Alucard."

"Ha! That is true," laughed Alucard, "But to be perfectly frank, I almost lost him. You have a diamond in the rough, James Bond. Perfect for espionage."

"I concur, the only thing that disturbs me about him, really, is his libido," added Integra grimly, "Keep it in check…or I will."

"Not a problem, Sir Integra," sighed James Bond, looking at the porthole to see Quatermain gone from sight. Bond returned to the subject at hand and said calmly, "You will be meeting in a small town near the lake he makes home to, where a past liaison will help you chain the beast. She is the only known survivor of his attacks that could be of any help and a detective of Jimmy Kudo's level. A shame she declined joining the League…by the way, where is the young detective?"

"Keeping my dear Seras company, I'm afraid," answered Alucard, "Poor girl still has to travel overseas by coffin…even when under it."

Jimmy Kudo sat on a chair in a dark room with a slab of steak pressed against his cheek, sitting in front of a large coffin.

"…Sera…you awake?" called Conan softly, "…Thanks…for saving me."

"It's alright, but it was a bit foolish to go down there, even with those fancy gadgets of yours," responded Seras from inside her coffin.

"I thought Quatermain would be able to protect me once I got there…but he can't even protect himself. He's a wretch," pointed out Conan with disappointment, "I don't know how he could be ANY help for this little League. But he is only a quarter of the problem."

"What do you mean?" asked Seras.

"This…League. It doesn't seem like a team of heroes, but a gathering of killers," explained Conan sadly, "Two powerful vampires, you and the Count Dracula. A hopeless yet eccentric drug addict that comes from a long line of expert hunters. A Somalian pirate and terrorist known for her brutality, lack of remorse, and having vast technology at her side. Mr. Griffin, quite possibly the greatest thief who is known also as a complete psychopath that kills on whim. It feels like you made a mistake putting me in this League, I am no killer. I'm the one who puts killers in jail."

"I…I see your point," replied Seras against her will, "It sounds bad…on paper. But…we wouldn't have contacted you if you were not like the Great Detective. Besides, you do know who we are up against, right?"

"Yes…Millennium," confessed Conan, hanging his head down, "I thought you defeated them…after the Zeppelin Incident…"

"This isn't the same Millennium," answered Seras, "Alucard thinks it is a splinter group, one that received more power after the first Millennium died. Nothing's known about them, other than they are usurpers and have just as much firepower as the last one."

"…What happened in London, when Millennium attacked, was what truly convinced me to join the League," revealed Conan, twiddling his thumbs as he looked at her coffin with melancholy, "What's really shaking my trust is…this next candidate. You know who he is…right? It goes against my own ethics just to consider being associated with Jason Voorhees."

Crystal Lake, New Jersey

Early July, 2009

"Mr. Quatermain, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, dammit! Stop pestering me, boy!"

It was a small lake town of 500, a town one passes by on their way to vacation. Five miles from the ocean and a mile from the namesake lake. Small convenient stores and self-owned business darted the small lake town gripped by fear, terrified by the monster living in the lake.

It was just Conan Edogawa, Alucard, Seras Integra, and Leonard Quatermain in this sleepy monster-fearing town. Quatermain was more clean than he once was, wearing a green jacket covering a black tattered vest, blue jeans with brown hiking boots, and a gun strapped to his belt. His hair was trimmed yet still uncombed, his beard shaved into a nice clean beard instead of the scraggly and unkempt one he previously wore. However, his eyes were still half-dead and his skin was a pale death.

He kept adjusting the end of his jacket over and over again, looking around nervously then saying with anger, "Where is this…liaison Bond spoke of? Is this even the right town?"

"Oh stop your bitching," growled Alucard, "Must you be so nervous?"

"And why shouldn't I?" growled back Leonard, "Pressured into something I have no care for, forced to wait in this cursed town for a woman to help catch a monster. Why couldn't Bond or Nemo be here instead of me?"

"Bond is only here to observe, Mr. Quatermain…apparently," advised Conan, "And the captain is currently on the FBI's Top Twenty Most Wanted. I doubt that we'd get anywhere with her walking around on American soil."

"And I wouldn't blame them!" snapped Quatermain, "Do you know who that evil bitch is? She's Captain Nehal Nemo. Devil Woman of the Arabian Sea. The Cruel Tidal Wave. The Science-Pirate."

"Comparable to Quatermain the Meth-Head?" scoffed Seras with her eyes closed, "Please, if you are going to whine and get prissy all day long, I have a spare uniform just your size."

Alucard snickered as Quatermain growled in anger. "Damn it, woman! Have all the women in England become as crass as you?"

"Come now, good hunter," laughed Alucard, pressing his hand on Quatermain's shoulder, "Why so emotional? Would not a beast like Jason Voorhees be a good hunt for a Quatermain? Surely, it must."

"…You…raise a good point, Nosferatu," groaned Quatermain, rubbing his forehead, "But I am still…healing. I need time. I need to be in the right state of mind. A hunt like Jason Voorhees must take months of planning and, for me, recuperation."

"We don't have months," sternly called out Jimmy Kudo, shaking his finger at Leonard Quatermain, "The New Millennium already knows of our situation and are taking advantage of that. The situation back at Mexico proves that."

"Don't talk to me like a child, boy!" growled Quatermain, raising his fist at Conan Edogawa. Conan only glared at him with a condescending pout, unafraid of the angry hunter.

"Sir, I am not a boy. I only look like one," berated Conan, "And more pathetic men have put bruises on me, you don't scare me. And I don't think you want to…am I right?" Quatermain glared at the boy, putting his fists down and nodded at him softly.

A bus suddenly pulled up on the other side of the street, drawing the attention of the League members. It stopped for a full three minutes, before driving off to reveal their liaison.

She was a short woman, with short brown hair, freckles, and large square glasses. She wore a black overcoat over an orange turtleneck, a short red skirt with striped stockings underneath finished with black shoes. She looked close to her forties, yet was incredibly attractive despite how plain she looked to the spoiled eye.

This woman walked across the street and approached them, greeting with an extended hand and a slight smile, "Hello, I am Miss Velma Dinkley. President of Mystery Inc. and your guide. Pleased to meet you."

"As am I," greeted Alucard, grabbing her hand and giving it a small kiss on the palm.

"Jinkies. League of Gentlemen indeed," said Velma with a large grin, sliding her hand from his grip and nodded calmly.

"Ahem. Well, let's get a bite to eat…so I can brief you more on…" she hesitated, looking away in regret, "…the monster you wish to cage. Follow me."

Three of the members sat with Velma at a booth at the far corner of a Mooby fast food restaurant while Leonard leaned against the wall with a small soda cup in hand. He glared and looked around, the jingle of the establishment and the cries of spoiled children caused pain to his ears, running down and causing his skin to crawl.

"So…what can you…tell us, Miss Dinkley?" asked Conan, nibbling on his fries.

"Well, nothing a police file and local legend wouldn't tell you…Jason Voorhees born to an unknown father and a Miss Pamela Voorhees," explained Velma calmly, "He supposedly drowned at Camp Crystal Lake when a little boy. Kid was deformed to the point of ridicule, and no one helped him when he…disappeared. His mother took his 'supposed death' horribly, going insane and killing a group of teenagers before having her head chopped off by the sole survivor of the incident."

"Didn't she die weeks afterwards?" asked Seras.

"Jason's first kill," confirmed Alucard, playing with his Egg-a-Mooby muffin with disinterest.

"Yes," said Velma with a nod, "He began killing again and again, then he died…then he came back. It is…hard to explain, but after that, he became nearly unstoppable. He has had many near death experiences…none have ever really done him in."

"I am just wondering where you fit into this…exactly," pointed out Leonard Quatermain, closing his eyes as they began to twitch.

"To explain that…I'd have to explain who I once was," breathed out Velma, looking at her cup of coffee, "Every summer, when I was a teenager, me and a group of friends would travel the country solving crimes. Mostly ones involving nutjobs in masks. We were your regular group of rebellious teenagers in the seventies, we smoked marijuana, had premarital sex, and the what-not. We called ourselves 'Mystery Incorporated', it was me, Fred, Daphne…Shaggy…and his dog, Scooby-Doo."

She laughed in nostalgia as she an her fingers through her hair, then saying with a breath, "I remember how we got him. Broke him out of a animal testing laboratory. Apparently they successfully put human vocal cords into him, could almost talk! Oh…those were the days…" She sighed again, looking out the window in despair.

A long silence was present, with the exception of the annoying jingle and people ordering over-saturated food. "…We thought…we could solve this case…easy. Same like any other…oh god, we were wrong. Shaggy…was the first to die…he was skewered in a barrel…stabbed to death. Daphne, cut diagonally in half by him. Fred was never found. And Scooby-Doo…heart-attack of all things…but Jason, oh god…he used his head as a totem…"

Conan looked at her in horror. He heard of the Mystery Inc. Massacre, but not like this. He dealt with murders, but none were as savage as Jason could deliver. Seras looked at her with pity, sympathetic to her plight…knowing the feeling of having loved-ones die in front of you. Alucard simply looked at his meal, sighing as he flipped the muffin off and waiting for more detail of her ordeal. Leonard, however, was intrigued. He was looking forward to meeting Jason now.

"How did you…escape?" asked Conan, his voice shaking quite a bit.

Velma let out a slight chuckle, then saying with embarrassment. "I…I didn't think it would work," she told with a scratch to the back of her head, "He had me cornered, a trap to catch him failed and I was going to be skewered. I had no way out…so I tried to seduce him."

"Excuse me?" scoffed Alucard, forgetting about his wasted meal.

"I can understand your reaction, mister," groaned Velma in self-disappointment, "But…it worked…in a way I didn't expect. It seemed to repel him, not attract him. It was like it confused and scared him. I took that chance…and ran. Ran and escaped. I swore I'd never come back."

"So why are you helping us?" asked Seras curiously, "You should know we are recruiting him for our League, right?"

"Yeah…" she replied, looking at her with tired eyes, "But…you can't kill him, you can't lock him up…the best punishment is taking him away from home."

"Just lead me to him…now!" growled out a determined Leonard, "…One way or another…he's coming with us." He smirked, his mind-dead set on capturing this Jason Voorhees for the sport of it. The plight of Dinkley's friends were lost from his mind, his only concern was this game before him.

Alucard looked at him with a great proud smirk, knowing that the Great White Hunter had acquired his moxy once more…

Camp Crystal Lake

Early July, 2009

Alucard leaned against a rental truck as he smoked a cigarette in boredom, with Quatermain in the back rummaging inside a tarp while the other three looked out at the derelict camp. The sign of the camp was decayed and of disrepair, the cabins claimed by nature and the lake perfect and serene compared to the evil it hid.

"There it is…Camp Crystal Lake," introduced Velma, a dark yet familiar feeling creeping up her spine as she looked at it, "Are you…sure you can catch him?"

"If Quatermain can't, Alucard will," responded Seras with a smile.

"How do we find him?" wondered Conan, "This place is…perfect to hide in. We should start looking before he knows we are here."

"He already does!" called out Quatermain, jumping from the truck with a large hunting rifle strapped to his back along with two pistols strapped to his belt. He walked to the entrance and said with a prepared gruff, "I half suspect that he is watching us right now. Oh yes, a common match between a mongoose and a cobra."

"You seem to be enjoying this," scoffed Velma with a disbelieved tone.

"I swear I hear the old Quatermain flair burn inside your voice," laughed Alucard as he walked up to his back.

"Haha. Yes…I suppose it's true," chuckled Leonard, holding his gun proudly and stating quietly, "I'm feeling it again…the thrill…"

"Well, once you are done reminiscing about the man who killed my friends, maybe we can go do the actual 'hunting'?" groaned Velma, her patience running thin with Quatermain's ramblings.

As they all walked into the abandoned camp, Conan reassured with a smile, "Do not worry, with our detective skills and my associates' supernatural skills, Jason Voorhees should finally be brought to ju…to justice." He stammered, knowing that was a great lie, for all they are doing is recruiting him for glory and the protection of mankind.

They all stopped to look up at the branches of a dead tree, seeing the mangled corpse of a naked woman with one of said branches impaling her though her eye socket to the back of her head. Her dangling body trickled with blood as most looked in horror, and the dark two watched with indifference. Those two were Alucard and Quatermain.

"People never learn to stay away from danger…" sighed Quatermain, joking at his own irony. Alucard nodded and followed Quatermain as he made his way to the lake.

"Hey! We need to stick together!" shouted Velma."We're not going far!" shouted back Alucard, flapping his hand back carelessly. Velma simply shook her head as Seras couldn't help but give a smile and roll her eyes.

Velma sighed and turned to Conan Edogawa. "I still can't believe you are…Jimmy Kudo. I heard so much about you…like that you are a high school student."

"Yes…well, I saw something I was not suppose to some time ago," explained Jimmy calmly, "They poisoned me with an experimental toxin that…de-aged me instead."

"Jinkies…" was Velma's response to that.

Seras heard a creak from a cabin door, seeing it slightly open teetering in an antagonizing way. She held her gun close as she slowly made her way to the cabin, ready to shoot whatever is inside.

As Quatermain knelt down in front of the shore with Alucard towering over him, grabbing a long clump of yellow hair with a slab of flesh still on it and inspecting it closely, Conan Edogawa continued with his story.

"The League promises that if I help them with a current affair, they will try to find a cure for me and…a dear friend of mine," continued Jimmy calmly, pushing up his glasses calmly, "The League wanted me because of my skills rivaling Holmes…I think they are giving me too much credit."

"No offense…" let out Velma with a slight laugh, "But that is."

Suddenly, a scream of pain drew the attention of everyone and sucked the noise from the world as a great silence was an ever-constant being. Quatermain quickly leapt to action, dropping the scalp and ran to the others in a hurry. Alucard simply stood there, looking back for a few moments before simply walking slowly back to them.

"What happened!?" shouted Quatermain to the concerned detectives.

"A scream," whispered a shocked Conan, looking around, "I think…I think it came from that cabin…"

"Where…where is Seras?" mumbled out Velma, darting her head wildly in search for the murderer of her friends long ago. As she said that, as if on queue, Seras limped right out of the cabin, heavily wounded.

Her eyes were tired as blood leaked from her mouth, and a great wound was seen on her shoulder. It stretched from her shoulder to the middle of her stomach in a diagonal cut currently healing from the attack, the only thing keeping it from falling down was her hand pressing her arm close to her.

"…I…I…I…" she whimpered out, trudging over to the petrified trio as Alucard rushed over to her just to catch as she fell to her knees, her wound finally healing up by the time he caught her.

"What have you got yourself into this time, police girl?" scolded Alucard.

"It…He came outta nowhere…" breathed out Seras, "…I didn't…"

"It's okay, don't talk…" panted out Velma, kneeling next to her and rubbing her head.

"I didn't…expect him to be so quiet…he just…" she groaned out as blood seeped from her teeth, "He just appeared outta nowhere."

Quatermain cocked his gun and smirked as he stomped to the cabin, with Conan quickly grabbing at the end of his jacket. "Hold on there, cowboy!" he shouted, "Are you seriously thinking of going-"

Leonard roughly tugged away from his grip and kicked the door wider open and shouted, "Come out, you retarded brute! Be glad others want you alive, mongoloid!" Before he could defend himself, a large fist impacted with his face. The blow sent him back and caused a torrent of blood dripping from his nose like a waterfall as he landed on his side in front of Conan.

The Boy Detective shivered as he looked up, gazing upon the juggernaut before him as he stood before him like a dreadful statue. His clothing tattered and worn down, his dark green coat and black shirt covered in holes and tears, and his pants ripped with mud covering his legs and black boots. He was a large monstrosity that toward even Alucard, with his skin grey and rotted with his skeleton peeking through the holes on his body. In his hand was a large bloody machete, a weapon he adorns with every killing. And finally, his mask, a rotted hockey mask covered in dirt and grime. In the mask one could see his eyes, blue eyes that seemed almost angelic.

What a horrid thing when one can give the essence of angels when they are doing the devil's work…

The Banana Slug: It's only a flesh wound.

I am still working out more of this universe, one thing I am working on is "Middle-Earthen Mythology". Well, not really mythology…with the findings of orc fossils and Dwarven ruins and the what-not.