"-or else, a truck." The purple suited vice principal glowered down at the pages, at the inky details of the demolished motorcycle. Her thick glasses glinted when her glare shifted to the agitated, though silent, officer. "Mr. Hamilton. …This is a blatant lie. And a waste of our valuable time. Your bike was not pushed over. It was hit by a car. Or perhaps a truck. Given the time, it might have even been a dump truck. But. There is nothing a 14 year old girl could have done to reduce your motorcycle to– to this." Holding up the printed image, the vice principal paused, only to assess the policeman's lack of shame. Officer Hamilton sat pale and stiff in his chair, while he stared at her with round, peculiarly bright eyes.
Coolly, the woman let the paper fall onto her desk. "… I'm surprised. I really am. I thought our law enforcement was capable of more honorable conduct. This was the result of either your own, or someone else's carelessness. It has nothing to do with this child."
Shivering and twitching with conflicting emotions, Officer Hamilton suddenly lunged at her desk and slammed his palms onto the printed papers. Their faces much closer than before, the vice principal sat stony and unmoved, as the officer scowled down at her. He was oddly pale, despite his obvious anger. "I am not lying…Mrs. Blarney." [Integra blinked at the name – 'so close.'] "I am telling you that," an unsteady hand rose courageously from the desk, as Officer Hamilton threw an incriminating finger towards the Demon. And he turned, to see her, to see once again the shining crimson eyes. The absolutely piss-inducing ghost-child. His voice rose as his body trembled imperceptivity, "This! That this-!" But he fell silent. And Officer Hamilton stared at the sparkling figure in the chair.
At the 14 year old girl. At her piteous expression. Her immunity to sin. Her oversized eyes, and glitter, and innocent, angelic curls. At her sickening femininity.
Suddenly, his bladder was utterly undaunted.
Instead, his gut twisted into consecutive knots – climbing into his throat, as he found it impossible to respond to this chilling turn of events. Goosebumps formed on his arms as they hung, lifeless, at his sides.
Two delicate porcelain hands clasped together, as though in prayer, as the light, gentle voice quivered. Condemning him with the girl's irrefutable 'purity.' "I- I don't understand. Why? Why are you doing this? Do you hate me, Mister?" The lips puckered, almost- almost like the poor child was on the verge of tears. Though, the crimson eyes were as dry as salt. "Do you… do you hate me so much? What did I do, that was so wrong? What could I have possibly done to-?"
There was a rough flurry of haphazard motion. The disrupting chaos of chair legs scudding against trimmed carpet, the chair teetering, nearly falling. Yet the commotion was short-lived, as Integra stumbled into the door, thudding against it as she fought to control herself. Throwing the door open, she immediately slammed shut it behind her. And the belting outbreak of howling laughter saturated the school's front office.
Walter started, immobile in his chair. His legs still crossed. His book held in (now) numb fingers, as he watched his mistress grip her knees in breathless, endless laughter. The alarmed butler began to consider whether Alucard had done something to stretch her sanity… a bit too far. That Integra Hellsing had finally given in to the madness that came with her position, as the master of such a creature.
This certainly appeared to be the case, as Integra gasped, giggled (or the equivalent for her), trying to stand, but finding that her stomach hurt too much. Integra crumpled, bent over once more, and remained this way as she laughed loudly, almost violently, into the carpet. Which blurred for her, as tears filled her eyes. A droplet fell onto a circular lens, but was eventually flung off by the Hellsing heir's uncontrollable laughter.
Alucard had twisted about in his chair, and was currently staring at the door his master had essentially tumbled through. His significantly less feminine, certainly not 'pure,' face as neutral, though a bit stunned. Behind the bemused vampire, the purple vice principal held her head in shame, blaming the officer's stupidity and selfishness for this humiliation. The officer himself gaped mutely in Integra's (or her laughter's) direction. He flinched when something large banged against the wall outside. But, given the resumed laughter, he understood that the girl's mother had just pushed herself into (or had fallen against) the wall. This hypothesis was further supported as the insane lady beat on the wall with a surprisingly heavy fist. Laughing. Continuing to laugh at him. … It broke his spirit.
Mr. Hamilton hung his head and sighed. Confused, ashamed, and utterly deflated, he turned back to the vice principal's desk to solemnly collect his papers.
Alucard took note of him when the defeated officer entered his field of vision, crossing the room with a drooped figure. Depressingly lifeless, he reminded Alucard of an abandoned ghoul. Left to wander by its lonesome self, without direction or purpose.
Outside, the laughter choked itself into silence when the door opened. No words were exchanged in the hallway, and no one reentered the vice principal's office.
Though, most of Integra's residual snorts and snickers certainly did.
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
For the Hellsing vampire, this success had a hollow ring to it. And Alucard began to wonder whether he would have preferred getting in trouble, over subjecting himself to this degradation. This thought gained even more weight as his master was called into the office, red-faced and breathless. And when she had to duck out briefly to smother a bout of giggles in her arm – as observed by Walter. She then returned with Walter at her side, as though he might help her attain soberness, and become somewhat more presentable. In some way or another, Sir Integra calmed and readied herself for the next topic.
Alucard had no clue as to why they were drawing this matter out (other than the idea that they were all sadists). The policeman had left. He (the Vampire Alucard) had clearly emerged the victor. Why couldn't they let him leave already? So he could set his face on fire, to ignite and repeat, until he'd incinerated every last sparkle. Every last one of these infuriating, reflective, darkness eroding flecks which currently surpassed the agony of dunking one's undead head into a cauldron of mercury, holy water, and body of Christ strew. Or perhaps he'd simply cut off his head, toss it out, and grow a new one. A fresh, new, untainted head. No curls. No makeup. No glitter. As fresh and dead as a well-preserved corpse. Just as he liked it. Just as a head should be.
Better yet, they could let him go back to the Hellsing mansion. But Alucard was somewhat reluctant to give up on the current target, to let the Police Girl or Father Anderson have the irritating pest. Yet, at this point, the unhappy vampire realized the Police Girl wouldn't be able to do much of anything about the pest, once Anderson had filled her with bayonets and mounted her head on a church spire.
The dolled up version of the great Vampire Alucard hissed internally, and turned his attention back to the purple-dino-woman who had opened a folder, and was shifting through some documents. She met his gaze, and, to his annoyance, smiled at him pleasantly.
Fortunately she wasn't interested in Alucard, and addressed his mother-master instead.
"Sir Hellsing, you know that, as we discussed earlier, Alucard is a very intelligent girl."
Alucard, the very intelligent girl, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Slumping down in his chair, much like a normal teenage girl (or boy) would.
Integra looked at her sparkling monstrosity and smirked, quite capable of repressing a chuckle. "Yes, Alucard is quite special."
Alucard, the very intelligent and quite special girl, glowered at the woman as he slipped even further down the back of his chair, almost lying rather than sitting in his seat. Becoming even more (convincingly) like a normal teenage girl (or boy).
"Yes," the vice principal agreed readily, hoping to please the much-too-young mother. "Yes, very, very special. We've never had a student like Alucard before, and we're quite proud to have her at our school."
Mmmhmm. Alucard frowned at the belly of his blue jacket, finding it just below his nose. As he was about to fall out of the chair, and this posture had become exceedingly uncomfortable, the vampire stood and let himself grumble loud enough to be heard. "I don't think I even need to be here anymore. I'll just let the three of you carry on with this joyous occasion, by yourselves."
The vice principal straightened with alarm. "Oh! Oh no, please- please sit down. Your mother and I have something very important to discuss with you. I need you to stay." As Alucard showed he was incapable of caring less, the vice principal urged him again, explaining the important matter she had referred to. "This is about your grades, Alucard. I know you're a smart girl, but you're failing your Calculus class."
The vampire stared at her. Blinked at her. Stared. Blinked. Moved his mouth, and then squinted at her thick purple glasses – he found them to be both stupid and annoying. "Not that I find this to be all that important, but it's merely a fact: I can't be failing Calculus. I've…"
Alucard stopped. His eyes glazed for a moment as he thought back to his last class, and he gave the woman a peculiar look before peering down at the papers she had on her desk. She handed him a list of his graded assignments, which he accepted wordlessly. Showing no emotion, the vampire read through the A's, down into the unbroken line of F's. And beside these F's, the row of familiar zeros.
"I know that you're a smart girl Alucard, but since you're doing so well in all of your other classes, it seems like there's nothing that could explain this change - except, perhaps, that we should move you to another class. One that you will find to be more accessible." As Alucard stared at her over the paper that wilted in his hand, the vice principal held up her hands to give herself room to explain. "Calculus is a very challenging subject. I know it was difficult for me when I was in school. I was an undergraduate when I had to take it. It's phenomenal that a 14 year old was able to do as well as you have, for so long. But now it's clear that we should move you over to Pre-Calculus. Right now, having you in Calculus will only deny you the opportunity to learn- If you can't keep up, you see? There's no point in keeping you in Calculus, with the way your grades are."
"Are you saying I'm stupid?" Red eyes blinked consecutively, and Alucard watched the woman's expression scrunch into different forms of embarrassment. She waved the hand with the heavy diamond ring.
"No no- not at all. The opposite, really. It's our fault. We moved you up too high or too soon-"
"What about the Police Girl?"
The vice principal couldn't respond until Integra mentioned that this was how Alucard referred to Seras.
"Oh! Oh, yes!" The woman fluttered through another folder, and passed a list of Seras' grades over to Integra. "Yes, Seras is doing a bit better than Alucard, however her grade has dropped from a- an 'acceptable' C+ to a D, at around the same time Alucard's performance began to decline. I was considering switching both of them – that way they could stay together, and perhaps, help one another study."
"OH." The flat tone drew their attention back to Alucard who was now frowning, thinking something over before committing to his next response. "This is because the Calculus teacher hates us."
The vice principal gave the poor girl a compassionate and understanding look, before nodding at Integra. "Yes, that's what they commonly think." She sighed deeply at Alucard, and placed a weary hand on her desk. "No dear. Mr. Anderson assigns grades based on performance. Your scores do not reflect his feelings towards you. He is not being mean, dear. So, don't take this personally. Mr. Anderson isn't here to target a subset of his students and force them to fail his class. All of this reflects your own performance, as well as your sister's."
"No." Alucard argued blandly, "He's bullying us. That's the term you use – bullying – in these schools, that's what you'd call it. Only, in this case the teacher is bullying the student, rather than a student bullying another student. But it's obvious. Look." He took Seras' list of grades from Integra and placed the two papers side-by-side before the vice principal. "Look at when our grades went from an A (or C) to an F (or D) – there's no other explanation other than the fact that Anderson hates us and is refusing to grade our assignments and quizzes properly. This. This is when he was hired, correct? And this is exactly the point when my scores became exclusively zeros."
"This is," Integra looked to Alucard for somewhat-unnecessary confirmation, "…the Anderson?"
"Yes," the vampire nodded emphatically, ringlets springing energetically beside his burning gaze. "Father Anderson. He can't kill us, so he's making us look like idiots. That's what the Catholics always do."
"PLEASE, please, Alucard. There's no need for that." The vice principal suddenly chuckled uncomfortably to dispel the mood. "Here, let's focus on the grades, not on the instructor. Mr. Anderson has been teaching for over 15 years. Mr. Anderson, I assure you, is not the problem."
But Alucard wasn't listening. He was glaring into his palms, clenching and unclenching his fists as a quiet snarl lifted the corner of his lip. "That's dirty. He's fighting dirty. I thought he was better than that, but I should have known; the Iscariot bastards love their dirty tactics. I'll kill him. I'll blow his goddamn head off-"
"PLEASE! MISS HELLSING! SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET!"
The startled Hellsing vampire had no response prepared for the woman, whose face steadily reddened into deepening shades of impatience and outrage. "I will not tolerate any threat of violence against my instructors. I will not tolerate another word, and I am prepared to demonstrate this by suspending you, Miss Hellsing – yes, you. You're no exception to my rules. Now please sit down, Miss Hellsing, or else I'll send you home with your mother."
Integra's smile went unseen by the No-Life-King as he fought the instinct to capably resist the ridiculous, purple-dinosaur's order. Fangs grated together in the undead jaws, and finally Alucard threw himself down into his chair, where he slouched, crossed his arms over his ribs and scowled menacingly at the woman. Who was undaunted by this typical display of rebellious adolescence.
She met his glare with cool immunity. "Thank you." She looked to Integra, secretly relieved to find that the woman had not disagreed with the way she'd just treated her daughter. "Now, we have plenty of room in our Honors Pre-Calculus class-"
An explosion shattered behind her, and the vice principal started with a gasp. Her chair spun round to show her the brown liquid that dripped from the wall behind her. Following the streaming rivulets to her thin carpet, she gaped at her obliterated coffee mug. (Which she identified after finding bits and pieces of it scattered here and there, and wayyy over there.) Unable to form any concrete suspicions, the vice principal revolved back to the three occupied chairs, to find Sir Hellsing and her butler staring at the mug, and Alucard – the girl slouched, basically lying in her seat, arms still crossed… Arms that were much too stubby for her to have reached the mug... But the forgotten eeriness returned, what the vice principal had felt when Alucard had first stepped foot in her office – though, now the child was without the smile, the manikin-like qualities. This was a crouching beast, forbidden to attack her – or so she felt, strangely, that this was the situation she'd just entered.
When the vice principal noticed Integra's stare, she bumbled through an awkward apology, and rubbed at her chilled arms as she went about placing some temporary paper towels down to soak up (or cover) the stain on the carpet, leaving the rest to be cleaned after the parent, butler, and student had left her office.
Plopping back into her desk chair, the vice principal clapped her hands and held them tightly before her, her elbows digging into her desk as she smiled in an unsettling manner. "Yes, then – right. … About Pre-Calculus-"
When her laptop shot past her arm and seemingly detonated on impact with the wall, adding a dent that was parallel to the dripping coffee, the vice principal did not move. Her spine quivered as her skin bleached, as though frosting over with terror. Her eyes were locked on her door, behind the three occupied chairs. And her mind had been wiped clean.
Then her hands tightened around one another, and, shivering, they gradually lowered to the desk. The woman whispered with a subdued and petrified hoarseness, "I think that's all for today. If you would please excuse me, I need to call someone to come clean my office." Her wide, watery eyes shifted to Integra. Unblinking, the vice principal took a moment to take in a shuddering breath. "It was nice meeting you."
"You as well," sparing the vice principal the impossible task of shaking her hand, Integra rose with a nod. But as Walter was opening the door for her, Integra noticed that Alucard was still lying in his seat, before the desk. But now he lifted himself up, to sit with his usual, more arrogant posture. He looked at the frightened purple dinosaur, and let her feel his gaze as she failed to return it. Then he quietly got up and followed Integra as she turned and went out the door. Walter, looking back, found that the vice principal was watching him. He gave her a cheery smile, wished her good day, and shut the door behind him.