Although John Blake had frequently dabbled in the art of plucking, tugging, and pulling on the strings of the red-eyed girl's temper, for the hour and a half he spent seated beside her in Mr. Anderson's calc class, he avoided sudden movements, should he inadvertently trigger the rage her blazing glower and muted snarl currently threw onto their teacher. Mr. Anderson, immune to the malevolence that radiated from the back of his classroom, gave his lecture with a cheerfulness that was utterly alien, his dry-erase marker squeaking over the clear sheet he had placed on his 'old-school' projector. (Really, John had no idea where Mr. Anderson had salvaged that thing, when all the other teachers used the 'normal' projectors that linked to their laptops.) For once John was more than willing to share Alucard's attention with other men. Hell, he wanted to turn into a puddle and slip under the table.
And he might just have to do that now, since Alucard had just caught him spying on her, and he hadn't ducked his head fast enough. He cringed at the sound of her low voice, which seemed strangely deeper than usual.
"Keep your eyes on your paper, boy. If you know what's good for you."
John scribbled dutifully in his notebook. But stupid curiosity, or perhaps his suicidal propensities, made him lick his lips and then eye Alucard doubtfully, and inquire: "You get in a fight with the old creeper…?" He let his voice die out as Alucard's glare seared his unprotected face. God damn, was she pissed about something. "At least you don't have that gun anymore, right?" His smile broadened as his nervousness grew. Why am I joking around with her right now? WHY?
Alucard stared at him coldly. "Who needs that little toy? …And I would much rather strangle him, feel his trachea snap against my fingers." Alucard was looking at his hands, as if envisioning the snapping neck.
"Whoa, you might just wanna reel in some of that excess bloodlust there, you now? A bit too morbid, more so than usual…" John swallowed and rolled a shoulder, as though this was the source of his discomfort. While his thoughts crept hesitantly through his mind: Was it really that much darker? This might actually just be 'normal' behavior for Alucard… Normal would be abnormal.
The red stare dulled at this, and Alucard's right eye twitched with something akin to boredom mixed with annoyance. He watched the Catholic as he merrily went about that day's lesson. A spasm of loathing contorted Alucard's lips, and he growled. "You smug son-of-a-"
John hummed away the ending and turned the page in his notebook. "I'm going to have to buy a new one, just about filled her up already. Only the beginning of the second semester too."
It was quiet after this irrelevant announcement, and John lost track of the lesson as a shiver caught between his shoulder blades, and he slouched into his hands to hide an expression of disgust. His psycho math teacher had just grinned at them. Grinned at Alucard, to be more specific. John had just been collateral. Ugh. The guy was definitely taunting John's 'pseudo-girlfriend.' (He hadn't tested the term on Alucard yet, and that definitely wasn't gonna be happening today.)
He couldn't help remembering how Mr. Anderson had basically stalked them – legit stalking – on Valentine's Day. John cast a grim, self-pitying look at the stuffed bear that sat in the chair beside him, serving as a buffer between himself and the seething girl he was somehow ballsy enough to have a crush on.
But then another thought drifted through his head and he straightened with a sense of dawning concern. His glance jabbed at Alucard, unable to make an audible request for attention, until the red glower shot back to him like a hot poker ripped from the heart of a fire, barbed with an aggravated "What?"
"He didn't do anything… uh, creepy?"
An audible groan that suggested his stupidity caused Alucard physical distress. And a head shaking with disbelief. That was all he got for putting his life on the line. (And god did he feel like he was throwing himself in front of an oncoming train, or sticking his arm into the cage of a rabid bear – bears got rabies, right? A tiger or a wolf wasn't big enough to encompass the sheer volume of- aggression was it? Rage? Well… And then… he wasn't going to be the one to suggest "the time of the month" out loud, although that seemed like a pretty good theory, now that he had really considered it for a moment.)
John tried again despite these thoughts, "Like, um, nothing to you- like he didn't do anything to your…person. Because if he actually bothers you, or scares you that much, we should really report it – an-and he'd get fired." He added the last bit as if this would serve as some encouraging factor.
"Nothing about …him… scares me. His face just puts me in a… in an extremely 'morbid' mood. I'll put it that way." After a moment Alucard continued with a dark mutter, as he watched the priest pass him another gloating smirk. "I certainly don't want him going anywhere. I want him close at hand, so I can murder him at my own leisure."
For Christ's sake- the hell was she talking about? Alucard sounded way to serious, John thought, shifting uneasily in his seat. She sounded like she'd actually straight up kill the dude in his sleep, or something along those lines. John chewed his lip for a moment, hesitating, but eventually he spoke in a low voice, hoping to god no one could hear their conversation. "You know, killing people you hate is …overrated. …T-take it from someone who knows…f-firsthand, and all."
He'd stuttered like an idiot… But still, Alucard's snort cut into John oddly, and his brow furrowed at the sneer his sincerity had earned. Now he was just a bit annoyed with Alucard for that. He clenched his jaws until he could no longer hold it in-
Then he cut back, "What the hell was that? I'm being serious here. You sound like you think murder is some sort of game, some casual whatever – like you just go around killing people whenever they happen to get on your nerves."
"If only." Alucard muttered darkly, and then dented a pale cheek against his fist, elbow on the table, eyes on the loathsome paladin. He recalled how arrogant the priest had been that night, the image of the man's face still fresh though more than a day had passed since Father Anderson had stood in the classroom with the frightened girl shrieking in the corner – shrieking like she'd been on fire, when no one had touched the silly fool. What had happened to reactions that didn't aggravate the hell out of him? All these horror movies were priming teens to explode into wild hysterics at the drop of a head, or even a less significant body part – a hand, even a little finger. They weren't real screams either – Alucard had heard his share of true horror and despair. She hadn't been in love with the fledgling; there hadn't been anything that remotely resembled a strong attachment. No screaming about the dead man, just screaming to make a racket. She'd showed no interest in her supposed lover after he'd lost his pretty head – though, it's true that a face becomes much less attractive once a paladin has shoved a bayonet between the eyes. Bah– grow a pair, why don't you? It's not like he was shoving them into your head, after all. These kids.
Alucard had been attracted to the scene when he'd sensed a disturbance – detecting a bloodbath that he hadn't been invited to… for no other reason other than that Father Anderson wanted to make an ass of himself.
(John heard Alucard grumble something that sounded like "that mustard," but the vampire was too engrossed in his thoughts to be drawn out of them.)
That bastard! Alucard had caught the scent of blood when he'd fazed into the building. Yes… he'd smelled it. No, no, he hadn't spilled it. Not a friggen drop of it. He'd passed through the door, bombarded instantaneously with the crimson pools and splatters that Anderson had merrily strewn about for him to see – to show him what he'd missed.
He'd had to 'absorb' the bland liquid (already digested by the fledgling, ugh- repulsive, like drinking dust) in order to "clean up" (as the priest had put it), as if he were some sort of undead 'sponge.' A sponge. That was what he'd been reduced to.
A ….freakin'… sponge.
Amazing. Simply awe-inspiring. Of course he wanted to shout for joy. He wanted to scream and rampage with glee, to go out and distribute his over-spilling glee to all the less fortunate souls in the world who hadn't attained his happiness and been blessed with his good fortune. Indeed, he was tickled by the whole idea.
Oh! Praise the almighty Hellsing Organization! And their spectacular cleaning prowess! They never leave stains on your walls and carpets! –currently employed by the Iscariot! Yes, cleaning up after the Vatican's dog. And they do it free of charge!
Van Hellsing would be proud… no, he'd probably be delighted about it somehow. Count Sponge-ula –damn, he'd been spending too much time with the Police Girl and her squawking gaggle of idiotic girlies.
Tee-hee, look at our pretty little dresses, and our nauseating scented pink shit that we make sure to rub and spray all over our bodies – that we don't let vampires bite, or course. We pollute people's rooms, every day. Let's dress up Alucard since he's a dolly now. A dolly for the little girls. A baby-sitter for the little boy. And a sponge for the Judas Priest. Isn't that wonderful?
It's flippin' fantastic fun!
Furious? No. Not at all. He'd been far beyond fury. He'd nearly suffocated on the 'emotional' experience. Luckily there had been a storm, and he'd been able to expend some of his 'feelings.' Else he'd have spontaneously combusted into a ball of raging fire. And we wouldn't want Alucard inadvertently setting the school on fire, now would we? No, no, of course not, Integra. We've done no such thing. (Though we should have done that at the start.)
As soon as the thunder rolled over the roof of the building, he'd emptied Cassull into the gloating Judas' skull. Livid, was more like it. Sir Integra had been merely furious when he'd had to report the incident, given that he'd have to account for the missing bullets eventually. (Something about having to deal with Maxwell, because of him. So what? Now she'd have to meet the little maggot over tea, and wear a skirt perhaps? Why she went to the trouble, Alucard had no idea. But really, was it any worse than what she'd put him through for the past few weeks – or no, Walter had chosen the uniforms, in the end…) And there was the matter about a newly fledged demon preying on students – or at least, attempting to prey on a student.
If the Police Girl and the squawking girlies hadn't delayed him. If the boy hadn't dragged him off on some "date," hadn't insisted on going to a restaurant, where Alucard had filled his stomach with noxious waste, which had made rinsing his mouth out with blood absolutely necessary before starting that night's patrol… He'd have found the fledgling. He'd have finally been able to do something. God! It had been ages! Why were they focusing on this worthless congregation of idiots and idiot children they instructed? Why weren't there scum molesting the peace of people someplace that wasn't in this accursed school?
John had said something Alucard had missed, but all the same the vampire hissed at the boy between ravenous fangs. "What? What, boy? What? Why are you incapable of leaving me alone?"
John faltered, appearing hurt as the tone stung him. Alucard didn't care, only bristling at the sound of the period ending. Yes. He watched the paladin as the green gaze met his. Now the children would leave, and he'd have Judas all to himself.
"Don't forget to take your bear." John was standing with his books already put away, the backpack hanging from his left shoulder. Alucard was still seated, and showed no signs of getting up. He got no response from the girl who was fixated on their math teacher. John dithered, then sighed and hitched the backpack to a better position on his shoulder and walked out.
Passing into the crowded hallway, John was slipping his other arm through the strap of his bag when he passed Seras and Harriet who were leaning against the wall beside the door. Both of the girls looked up when he passed, and first one and then the other peeled away from the wall to follow him. Harriet was the first and more eager of the two. Seras lingered, as if she were dragged behind the brunet who bounded, fawn-like, alongside John, trying to get his attention without calling his name. But he was completely oblivious to her presence. When she did call his name, he looked at her, at first startled, but then all his face registered was annoyance and he didn't look at her when he asked what she wanted.
"I don't want to talk to you right now."
Harriet's glossy lips worked themselves into a little frown, downplaying how upset she was, having been ignored and now rejected by a guy she'd been on-and-off dating for a year and a half – at least. "Why? Your new girlfriend doesn't seem to care who you talk to." She doesn't seem to care about you at all! Meanwhile, I'm right here! I'm totally available! You said you didn't want a girlfriend, you weren't interested in an exclusive relationship, so I waited until you were ready. And then you go for some ugly little fourteen year old who still wears a training bra – if she wears a bra at all, and I doubt she does – when you knew. You knew that I liked you and that I was willing to be in a committed relationship. And-
"Just leave me alone already." John's hand gripped the strap of his backpack, gritting his teeth as her voice grated against his nerves. Jesus. This had better not be how Alucard felt around him. Alucard had no reason to feel the way John felt about Harriet. She was basically a clingy-ex. Everyone got annoyed by their ex's after all. She was acting as though he was her boyfriend, like she owned him or something. What an obnoxious girl. And she was always mean to people. Why should he like some mean, annoying girl? We had sex, get over it. You're an adult now, so deal with it. We had fun, we had a thing going, and now it's finished. She'd have no problem finding another boyfriend. She was semi-hot… no, definitely pretty. He'd considered getting serious with her at one point – if she'd been a nicer person. But tons of guys would bend over backwards to please her. Just not him.
Harriet continued to walk beside him, though she was quiet for a moment. Seras shuffled a few additional feet, then stopped, turning back to the classroom and giving Harriet and John the excuse that she needed to talk to Alucard – unable to say "her sister" out loud without choking. "See you guys later. Harriet, let's have dinner later, okay?"
Harriet just waved a hand, then moved to continue walking, but she only lurched forward and remained where she was as John failed to take a step. He was looking after Seras as the tall blonde girl strode down the hall, against the left current of streaming students. She slowed as she attempted to cross over to the right side of the hallway, where the students were going in the direction she was headed.
"Hey, Seras!"
The fluffy blonde head jerked up and Seras found John jutting out like a lone tree amidst the flow of teens. Somehow he thought it was necessary to raise his arm above his head for her to spot him in the crowd.
"Make sure Alucard doesn't forget her bear." And with that he turned around and started walking. Harriet followed, mute. Her fists clenching her messenger bag as her straight, whitened teeth bit sharply into her lip. Her lip gloss continued to suffer as she split from John when he entered his next class and she had to backtrack to get to her own before the bell rang.
They hadn't exchanged a single word since John had mentioned Alucard's name …He'd said it, right in front of her. With these thoughts, her bottom lip was bare and sore by the end of the period. And she was only thinking about how much she hated that ugly red-eyed freak.
She was about ready to start jabbing safety pins in that girl's chair. But that was too extreme, in the end. (Pfff- She wasn't crazy.) Glue on the other hand…