No comments for Chapter 3 - oh well, I guess, there are still people out there, reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing and I do not own the characters. I do not make money with this. The characters and locations from Nordic myth obviously are not mine, either. I don't know, who's owning them now, but it sure is not me.

** Chapter 4**

There was a moment of truth for Alucard. When he found himself on his knees, trying to keep Walter's gleaming wires away from his throat, he knew, that he was defeated in more than one way.

The recognition that Walter was holding his very life between his fingers hit him full force. He was a puppet on strings. The metaphor was so devastating that Alucard hardly felt the wire cut into the flesh of his hand, and he did not - could not - give a damn, either. He just wanted that stuff off! He wanted it all off, gone, over and undone, every moment of the last eighteen hours! Now! He tore with his hands and tried to severe the wire with his teeth.

»Alucard! Easy! You'll hurt your- « Walter immediately released his grip, but the damage was already done. Alucard cradled his hand and spat blood to the floor.

»I'm sorry, Alucard. But you should have known better!« Walter collected his wires by looping them around his left arm. »Are you all right?«

»I wanted to find out about my fighting abilities, not get myself strangled!« Alucard lisped furiously. Gingerly, he probed the inside of his gums with his tongue. He probably owed it to Walter's quick reaction that he had not lost a tooth - or cut his jaw in half. »Well? Your opinion?«

»You certainly are quick«¸ Walter said without hesitation. »Your body control is remarkable. You're in good shape. But your strength definitely lies in the defensive.«

»What do you mean by that?«

» You've got a true fighter's instinct. You seemed to foresee each of my moves. But look what happened, when you attacked me in return! You get careless. You still act, like nothing's going to hurt or stop you.«

»I understand. Your advice...?«

»No more catching bullets with your teeth«, Walter said in great earnest. Alucard half expected him to raise a finger. »No more games of ‚you-kill-me-first-then-I'll-show-you'. If you need to get on a roof, you'll use a ladder, and if you want to get down, you'd better look before you leap.«

»That is all?«, Alucard asked sarcastically.

»It may be all the fine line between staying alive and getting yourself killed.«

»There is no line. I'm going to die«, Alucard said with almost eerie calm. He still tasted metal and watched his crimson blood drop from the cut in his hand. »I'm a demon caught in this restricted body, and I am going to die in it...«

»Now, now, it's unlike yourself to give up so quickly...«, Walter said.

»I'm not giving up. I simply stated what being mortal is all about. Maybe, you've gotten used to the facts by now. But I need to keep reminding myself«, Alucard said. »Will you excuse me? I have to patch myself up! Maybe see a dentist.«

Sadly sucking the wound in his hand, he gathered up his hat and left the gym.

»Oh dear«, Walter said.

Seras had been waiting patiently for hours, as Sir Integra had told her. Ann's door had been open, so the draculina went in and sat down on the bed. When the light outside started to wane, a black cat had appeared and, meowing and rubbing aginst Seras' leg, offered to pass the time together. Seras creased up her glove, fixing it with a long, thin leather strap to move the little ball around. Soon, they were playing happily. Seras moved the string and the cat tried to hold the makeshift toy with the front claws and kick it with the hind legs.

Suddenly, the cat stopped playing and spat, turning toward the door. Feeling the hair on the back of her neck rise, Seras got up and peeped out of the window: »Oh no! Anderson!«

The paladin appraoched the door at a determined gait. At first, Seras thought, he was coming for her. Then, she noticed, that he was not holding bayonets in his fists. So, he was not preparing for an immediate attack.

He stopped in front of the door, probably reading the note, stating that the witch would not be back before midnight. Seras counted her blessings that she had neither taken down the slip of paper, nor lit a lamp. The first was buying her precious seconds, the latter would have betrayed her at once. But she simply had not thought of it, since neither she not the cat needed extra light.

She could see the slender feline move elegantly away from her now and behin a red curtain. The cat seemed to want her to follow.

Seras slipped behind the red curtain that seperated a corner of the room from the main living area. There was a wash basin and a shelf with towels, a basket with some laundry, a dried starfish, the skull of an oystercatcher with the stump of a candle on top and pictures of beautiful beaches adoring the wall.

There also was a little window. It seemed too small, but with Anderson now entering at the other side of the room, Seras decided to give it a try. The cat had already escaped.

Seras squeezed herself through the window frame, wishing not for the first time that her upper body had been a little less endowed... The first thing catching her eye, when she stood in the backyard and straightened her shirt, was a tree. A really big tree. It had a gnarled trunk and high limbs with light green leaves. It was higher than the surrounding buildings and it filled the air with a smell of spring time and blossoms, warm air and moist earth...

There was no such tree in the middle of London, Seras simply knew, she had to be dreaming.

And in the dream tree a dream door was opened from within to let the cat in, that had been rubbing against the bark. Light fell on the dirty ground of the backyard and a woman's head appeared in the opening. She looked at Seras and waved at her: »Quick, girl! Over here!«

Integra and Alucard reached Sir Witherspoon's mansion shortly before dinner commenced. All in all, thirteen guests had arrived. It was the exact number of companions, Sir Witherspoon needed to avert the occult threat, which he believed to have brought over his head, when one of his rituals had gone horribly wrong.

Since it was essential to have that number of persons spend the night under his roof, he had turned a wing of his mansion into a high class hotel and opened his park-like estate for them to enjoy the evening. An Egyptian obelisk marked the centre of the premises and served as the needle of a large sun-dial. There were plants from all continents and artworks of all the corners of the world, Sir Witherspoon had once gone treasure-hunting in.

But he was no longer young, in fact, Integra was surprised to see the withered, bent figure go around and welcome tonight's visitors. She had met him before and remembered him as an elegant, tall man, whose dark hair was beaded silver and who talked in an urbane way that did not admit contradiction. Now, Sir Witherspoon was clad in black, his short hair was amazingly white and his eyes disturbingly pale blue. He leaned his fragile-looking frame on a heavy stick with silver studs, as he enjoyed the conversation.

He did not come over to talk to Integra and Alucard.

However, he did send his butler to summon Integra to the study. Only Sir Integra, as was expressed clearly, when Alucard quite naturally moved to come along.

»It's all right«, Integra told her vampire, lowering her voice. »I don't think, it's something personal. He is a paranoid eccentric.«

»He's an old crock, feeling like the Sun King himself, when in fact, he's shrivelled up like a slug, sun-baked and with lots of salt on it«, Alucard said acidly. He had hardly spoken a word, since they got into the car together. She had left him alone, since Walter had already pointed out that Alucard might need some time on his own to cope with the events of this day.

She didn't want to leave him alone now: »I won't be long.«

But he simply said: »I understand«, and wandered off towards the buffet.

Integra wished that his black mood was just a symptom of his being hungry in a very human way.

The butler led Integra into Sir Witherspoon's private study. It was a stuffy room that somehow gave the impression of being older than the mansion itself. Bookshelves filled the walls from floor to ceiling. Thick velvet curtains covered the two high windows. There was a cold fireplace and five velvet armchairs.

The butler asked her to sit in one of them and make herself comfortable. Sir Witherspoon would be with her in a second.

But it took about ten minutes for the old man to actually appear. He met her with a smile and his hands outstretched: »Sir Integra, it is a pleasure to have you as my guest tonight. I apologise for having kept you waiting.«

»The pleasure is all mine, Sir Witherspoon. Thank you for keeping up your invitation.«

»You're welcome. I knew, there would come a day, when I could be of assistance again.«

Integra raised her eyebrows: »Again? I certainly never asked for your assistance before?«

»Is it or is it not your familiy heritage vampire out there, watching my guests with those strange eyes of his? I did not see their red lustre, but I've noticed the gloves.«

»How do you know about the gloves?«

»I was there, when they were put on. Well, that is not exactly true. I've never seen the creature myself and neither has it seen me. I wanted it this way and I still would not want to make its acquaintance. You see, I was the one, who counselled your father on how to treat and keep it. Oh, by the way: It is all right for you to smoke. Please.«

Integra selected a cigar from the box, he was offering her, and accepted his light: »I should have guessed. Someone of your reputation in the field of the occult surely would have access to my father's inner circle.«

»Well, to be honest, your father's vampire was a significant and intrigueing object of study. - So, now he's back, drinking champagne and eating roasted chicken from my buffet. He should not be able to do that.«

Integra inwardly relaxed a bit as the old man ceased refering to Alucard as an „it": »He is - since last night, to be precise.«

That news immediately caught Sir Witherspoon's interest: »What happened last night?«

»He drank the blood of a woman, who called herself a witch. She said, it would heal him. Since then, his body has come alive.«

Sir Witherspoon became animated at once: »That is amazing! You have just described an operative Seal of Sculd! Who, did you say, was that woman, who applied it?«

»I do not know her full name«, Integra said, fully aware that she had not mentioned any name. »The Seal of Sculd? I never heard about that. What can you tell me about it?«

»It is not common, even among practitioners of the occult. It traditionally takes a virgin woman to cast the spell. And for the spell to take permanent hold, there has to be one thing that most occultists lack.«

»That is? «

Witherspoon eyed her warily: »Compassion for the monster.«

There was a short silence. Integra lit herself another cigar.

»The story goes back to Nordic saga«, Sir Witherspoon said. »Sculd is the youngest of the three norns – goddesses of fate, who dwell under the roots of the ash-tree Yggdrasil. At the shores of the well of Urda, they watch over every creature's life. The story tells, that a man came to their place to meet his fate. He had bartered off his soul to Loki, the trickster god, for immortality. But it was only when he was waylaid and badly hurt that he found out about the dark side of the trade: He would not heal and yet, he could not die. He was condemned to pain everlasting, the point of death stretching out into infinity. Sculd felt pity for the mage, and she went to see Loki and asked him to set the man's soul free. The trickster demanded her maidenhood in return for the secret. He has a way with both, words and women, so she agreed. When Sculd returned to the well of Urda, Loki, the shape-shifter and transformer of things, had put the magic in her blood, and when she gave it to the wounded man, his mortality was restored. And the story tells, that at the first beat of his living heart, she took her own walkyre sword and beheaded him. And then she went and gave Loki, what was his due.«

Integra's face betrayed her scepticism: »Why would she kill him?«

»Maybe, because she already regretted the deal? No. I believe, she did it, because she saw, that death was, what he truly longed for.« Sie Witherspoon looked at his bony hand. »Immortality is a boon of gods, not meant for humans.«

Integra had no intention to enter a philosphical debate on the disadvantages of old age: »Let's assume, there was a witch and she applied the Seal of Sculd on Alucard. How does one break it, and would I, being his master, be able to do so?«

»That is not so easy to say. You'd probably need to be prepared.«

Integra smiled smugly: »Do I have to decapitate him?«

»You haven't listen to the story«, Sir Witherspoon said, looking sly: »A more appropriate question, one of many possible, is: What do you feel, when you watch Alucard feed?«

Integra sat up bolt upright: »What kind of question is that?«

»Picture him now, holding that poor woman, bending over her, her blood flowing - «

I picture him holding the broken scull of one of my uncle's men high over his head and the blood flowing onto his tongue...he looks like a cat, a malicious, grinning, white-haired cat.

Sir Witherspoon watched her with an almost lurking expression: »When he goes around, killing monsters and humans alike, as you order him to«, he whispered. »Tell me Integra: Do you - possibly, just possibly - enjoy it? Does he know, how you feel about your power to command him?«

»Sir Witherspoon, this is an outrage and I consider this conversation at an end!« Integra nearly toppled over the heavy armchair. Her face was flushed with anger.

»Wait, Integra!«

»That's Sir Integra for you. And I will not answer any of your impudent questions! Good night!«

Integra all but fled from the study, ignoring the butler, who'd patiently waited to see her back to the dining room.

»O, Hellsing, my dear old friend«, Sir Witherspoon sighed. »I told you, this creature's manipulative powers were too great to let it live. I had it all ready, the Holy Water, the blessed silver – why would you not listen to me? Now, see, what has stemmed from this.« He rang for his butler. »Winston. As soon as my immediate obligations as a host are over, have the car ready. I need to make a phone call.«

»As you wish, Sir. But may I remind you once again that there are telephones in the house? They have been for quite some time, in fact. You do not have to drive down to Rosary Chapel to use theirs.«

»Then may I remind you once again of my unswerving opinion that telephones have been invented and are worked by the devil. Until convinced otherwise, I will not hold my ear to any such device that has not been blessed and purified by sacred water, lest I might hear his insinuations. The car, Winston. The car. At nine sharp.«

Winston bowed: »Very well, Sir Witherspoon.«

»Ohshitohshitohshit!« Crossing the yard to reach the safety of the dream tree, Seras zig-zagged wildly, dodging the blades that whizzed past. Anderson flung them through the small window, so fortunately, his aim was impaired. He still managed to get one blade into Seras' back, and she just let herself fall forward with the momentum. The woman caught her and pulled her in. The tree closed behind them.

Anderson, who had to take the long way around, found no trace of a door. He searched the trunk, muttering to himself that the heavenly gates would open wide for those striving and seeking with an unflinching mind.

A squirrel was watching him from above.

»Filthy witch! Sacrilegious plant! You're reaching for heaven, but your roots are drawing from the deepest pits of the netherworlds...« Finding his prayers and threats defied, Anderson drove a bayonet into the wood.

The squirrel made a giggling sound.

»What hellish swamp have you crawled forth from, vile creature?« Anderson threw some blades, but the squirrel simply climbed into higher branches. It dropped a nut on his head.

Anderson turned back to the invisible door: »Shameless whore, whose sole payment is mortal sin and eternal doom! Open at once! In the name of the Lord!« He pressed his silver cross against the trunk, and was surprised, when an entrance opened.

Warily, he stepped into the darkness, that was not so dark, after all: A golden light seemed to emanate from the wooden walls. There were stairs in front of him, leading downward. Anderson hefted his bayonets and started to descend into the earth.

**End of Chapter 4 **

A/N: So, that's it for today. There really is a norn/walkyre by the name of Sculd in Nordic myths, who lives at the roots of the great ash-tree Yggdrasil (the same tree, that will protect the few survivors of ragnarok in the caverns under its roots, due to the myth), and Loki, of course, is one of the Aesir. The story, Sir Witherspoon tells Integra, was completely made up by me, though. For those of you, who've seen the Hellsing OVA - there are some references in the text. I like the OVAs better than the TV series, not for the violence or over-all story, but because there is something like an operative team structure between Integra, Walter, Alucard and, lateron, Seras Victoria, that I like to watch and did not detect so easily in the series. And - you guessed - I just love Alucard's phone calls to Integra and her reaction to his suggestive questions )

Hope, you enjoyed, and if you did, please be back for chapter 5.