A forest grew in London that night. The trunks of trees were cold steel and iron, dripping sweet gory nectar from their macabre branches. Flesh and bone tore through the victim's abdomen's and contorted into agony posed as sickly decoration for the almighty Vampire King's homecoming celebration.
"Welcome back, Count." Integra stood over the kneeling form of her servant. Dracula, armored in silver and iron, caught in a swirling pool of darkness, looked up at his master. His eyes were different from his other incarnation, more human in appearance. The last sliver of his human life, or perhaps a simple façade, Integra didn't care either way.
"I have returned, Countess."
Seras' emotions were in a state of flux at the sight of her returned master, mainly because she didn't actually see her master in front of her. Logically she knew it was Alucard, Seras had seen him explode and reshape himself into this new form, but still, she felt a great unease.
"W-Welcome back, Master," she managed to say without sounding quite as unsure as she was. Dracula's eyes swiveled to her, and Seras felt them imbibe her mind. In an embarrassing moment of fear she slid behind Integra and peered out at her unfamiliar master.
"M-Master, you have a mustache huh?" Seras traced her upper lip with her finger. Oh God, what am I doing, this is so bloody stupid! Roll with it Seras, roll with it. She contorted her face to make a sort of feline grin and kept drawing facial hair with her finger. "A mustache…"
Dracula rose and lifted a single iron-plated hand toward Seras. She instinctually assumed that she'd done something wrong, and made a true effort to look cute and not flinch. In failing that much Seras closed her eyes and awaited some horror, and was met by… a gentle hand ruffling her hair like her father once had.
She looked up to see her unfamiliar master smiling down at her with something akin to pride glowing from his face. "Seras… Seras Victoria." He removed his hand from Seras' head, and she felt a little taller than before. He said my name, she thought giddily. He finally said my name!
Dracula turned his eyes behind Seras, and saw into the darkness of a distant alleyway where a figure hid in solitude. "I had anticipated an interloper," he called out to the figure. "Although I was expecting a man, not a specter." Seras followed her master's gaze, as did Integra who saw nothing of what would happen next.
A hooded man crept slowly out of the shadows. He was tall and lean, a match to even Dracula's impressive frame. Deep blue eyes cut out of his darkened face, set in a stern, decisive expression, and focused on the two vampires. Seras recognized him instantly; there was no doubt in her mind, not a single thought of trepidation or suspicion.
"Reece," she whispered inaudibly, and began to walk involuntarily towards him. Memories of warmth and joy completely overtook her, and she became deaf to the world. Her vision tunneled, and all she could see was Reece. Without realizing it, Seras began to dash madly towards the man.
Reece jerked back as he saw the vampire Seras charge at him. Her speed had increased a great deal since the incident on the roof. He could see her Familiar arm trailing her path, and the almost mad focus in her crimson eyes, but it was all a flash. At this distance he barely had the opportunity to defend himself, to reach into his pocket and brandish the knife he'd prepared in the event of a worst-case scenario. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of the hilt, but by then Seras was already upon him.
Seras embraced Reece with the force of a train and buried her face in his chest. Reece froze, his entire world suddenly becoming a hazy mess. He looked down, completely baffled, and stared at the trembling little girl hugging him as tight as she could like he was a security blanket to a toddler. Seras was sobbing, practically soaking Reece's jacket in what he thought were tears. Her weeping words were muffled, but he could make them out.
"Reece! Oh, Reece!" And she kept crying. Reece was numb, nearly rendered speechless. He forced words to come out of his throat.
"Uhh," he struggled. "Seras? You… Remember? Me?"
She looked up at him, and Reece was struck by her tragic visage: Seras' skin had become even paler than before, and blood was draining from her eyes. It took him a moment to realize that the blood was her tears. Seras nodded up at him, and then started to break down all over again.
"Reece," she whimpered like an abandoned puppy. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I hurt Bobby, and I'm sorry I forgot and that I've been gone so long. I never should've let myself forget, I'm sorry!"
"No sweetie, please don't say you're sorry, it wasn't your fault." Reece consoled his little girl, finally wrapping his arms around her. "I should have looked for you and brought you home, I was too damn whipped by the Higher Ups' commands!" Seras shrunk at the feeling of his touch, and went back to crying. Reece held her head and cooed soothingly into her ear. After a while, Seras managed to calm down a bit and step back with an awkward giggle. Reece smiled and wiped the bloody tears from her face.
Seras realized what she'd been crying all this time and clammed up guiltily. "Y-yeah… umm…" She pointed toward the blood on his hand. "I-I had to… uhh…"
"Shush," Reece commanded, wiping his hand on his already stained jacket. "You can tell me later. Right now I don't bloody care." Their eyes met, and he squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. "I'm just overjoyed to have my little Composer back." A shaky smile crept over Seras' face, and at that moment Reece didn't see a grown woman who'd taken on vampirism: he saw a small happy girl riding around the room on a stuffed pony on her birthday.
"O-okay," Seras squeaked. A look of alarmed realization passed over her, and she turned back to see Integra and her master. "Oh shit, they see you. They just heard all of that."
"Well, they will if you keep talking that loudly," Reece crossed his arms. "And probably only your… the vampire. The other woman can't even see me." He met Dracula's stare, mindfully twirling the small knife he'd palmed after recovering from his shock. Reece considered how much force he would have to put into the blade to pierce the vampire's armor. Dracula placed his hand comfortably on the hilt of his sword. Integra might have looked confused and annoyed.
"Seras!" she called out. "What is this? What are you-"
Suddenly a flurry of incandescent scripts whipped through the air, and a high battle scream sliced through Integra's voice. Alexander Anderson appeared in the storm, bearing down on his vampiric foe with a holy bayonet in his hands. Dracula raised his sword and the two blades crossed in an explosion of sparks. The two flew apart, while Integra promptly went to Seras' side out of harm's way.
Dracula looked upon Anderson and smiled. "Nicely done, my sworn enemy."
"We are the representatives of God," Anderson intoned, as was his custom. "The agents of divine punishment on earth. Our calling is to exterminate the flesh of all the fools who would defy our God, down to the last trace!" He formed the Holy Cross' image with his twin bayonets.
Goodness, Reece thought to himself. The Higher Ups must love this guy. Just then an old crack began to fracture in Reece's brain, nearly making him jump. He looked off into the sky, a wild look in his eyes.
"Seras," he said, looking back at her for an instant. "I'm sorry, but I need to leave right now. I'll find you again sweetheart, I promise!" Without a moment's hesitation to hear her reply Reece sprouted wings and took off into the sky.
Annabelle had been grievously harmed, and Reece had a strong suspicion that he knew who did it.
"I'll tell you what," Joshua crooned down at the prone Annabelle, covered in her cute little Noise flame. "You can have the next hit. Make it a good one."
She pushed herself up onto her feet, draped in a yellow shawl of flame. Pebbles that had stuck in Annabelle's alabaster flesh burnt away like wicks to a torch. Even the dust was consumed by fire, but the Composer remained cool. She shook the Noise off her back softly, as though it were a babe.
"It's alright, it's alright," she muttered to the flames. They licked at her arm disbelievingly.
"Aw, that's just precious!" Joshua giggled and bent forward as though he was lying in the air. "It cares about you."
Annabelle stared daggers at him. He acted more like a jester than a powerful Composer, but she knew better than to let his appearance affect her guard. The scorching blow she'd just taken to the back was proof enough of how dangerous Joshua was. The Noise was reaching out, tickling her fingertips. She beckoned it up her arm.
"Kiryu," she called up to him, regaining her composure. "I don't know what your reasons are for opposing me. And I don't care." She tightened her fists as the Noise flared up her forearms. "You have invaded my territory. You have sided with an abomination against death. You have attacked my Reapers and disrupted my Players! And now you dare threaten me? ME!?" She leapt up, trailing fire in her wake, and drove her knee into Joshua's jaw.
"I am Composer Annabelle King, and no one opposes me! No one!" She brought her fiery fist up and slammed it into Joshua's skull. He shot down, a burning meteorite, and crashed through a convenience store. Green and purple flames tinged the shattered roof, reaching toward Annabelle as she floated down to see the damage. Joshua's body burned white with small streaks of crimson.
Joshua flicked his finger and cast the fire off himself. His pristine white shirt had been lightly singed. "Really?" Joshua chuckled, although Annabelle noticed some strain in his humor. "Your first move is a Falcon Punch?" A singular drop of blood trickled from his forehead and down his cheek. He poked at it and admired his painted finger with curiosity. "Huh. I'm bleeding." Joshua looked up at Annabelle. "You made me bleed."
"I'll do worse than that," Annabelle roared, still feeding off her own temper. She grabbed Joshua by the collar and lifted him up to meet her eyes.
"I haven't bled in so long," Joshua spoke to himself. "I thought it all must have stagnated in my body. Crusted over, turned to sludge." His eyes suddenly shot to Annabelle. He stared deep into her with shaky pupils. His eyes dilated as a new smile melted into his face.
"But now, for the first time in years, I can feel my heart. I can feel it thumping against my chest, pumping ichor through my veins. You made me BLEED."
"You've gone nutty Kiryu. Our hearts don't beat anymore."
"Oh?" Joshua cocked his head. "Annabelle my dear, if your heart doesn't beat than where does all that passion and rage come from?"
"What? You don't need a sodding heart to have emotions. My passion comes from my spirit, my desire."
"Heh, a rose by any other name." Annabelle cursed in annoyance and threw him away, breaking the wall in a shower of snacks. Joshua skipped off the concrete and regained his balance in the air. His eyes had a brilliant shine in them, and his smile did not falter once. Annabelle glided out of the hole he left as the store collapsed in on itself, gilded in the fire.
"Come, Composer Annabelle King!" Joshua cried. He waved an arm, and several balls of light appeared beside him. "Let me hear the beat of your heart before you die!"
The clusters of energy shot forward and burst against the road, firing beams in all directions. Annabelle flew straight up, her dress twirling as she danced between the burning lights. Her flaming Noise snaked through the lasers and opened its maw to engulf Joshua. He disappeared into a spiraling black portal, and the Noise carved a burning scar into the sidewalk.
Something yanked Annabelle's hair backward.
"Did I say it was your turn, Anny?" Joshua whispered in her ear. She felt his hand press against her back, and then a huge force blew her away. Another portal opened in her path and a laser shot out of it and knocked her away. Suddenly she was being juggled inside a storm of lightning; her skin sizzled and burned, and her bones creaked against the force.
The pattern became obvious. As Annabelle fell to where the next blast would originate, she extended her hand. The portal opened, a flash of light blinded her eyes, and she felt the burning electricity grind against her open palm. Concentrating, she took the full force into her arm and held the energy within her flesh. It scorched her insides and fed her rage. She eyed Joshua, half-concealed in his portal, and flew like a bullet. She grabbed his arm before he could flee and expelled all the energy from her mouth into his. Joshua struggled against her grasp, shaking violently as his single head wound began to burst with light. Once Annabelle felt all the excess power enter his body, she pulled him out into the open and kicked him square in the cranium. All the energy was forced out of him through the cut on his head, and the force caused it to rupture. Joshua spun through the air, propelled by the laser.
The light flickered away, and Joshua steadied himself. His face was entirely red now, and his head had split down the side to his neck, completely exposing his skull. He never stopped smiling.
"Now you're bleeding," Joshua spoke with a flat jovial tone. Annabelle looked down at herself. She had various burns and tears all over her body, from her legs to her chest. Her beautiful dress was in tatters. She shrugged it off, completely shameless of her naked form. The winged pendant glittered in the light of the fire.
"Heh, here." Joshua opened a portal and pulled out a pair of jeans and a dress shirt. He tossed the clothes to her. "Not exactly your size, but that's what I've got."
"What does it matter?"
"I suppose it doesn't," he shrugged. "Just common courtesy. Feed the hungry and clothe the naked, etcetera etcetera." Annabelle tossed the clothes between her hands passively. Joshua chuckled to himself. "Unless you want to die naked again. There's some beauty in that I suppose; you end right where you began, naked and alone."
Annabelle pulled the pants on and buttoned them. It was a surprisingly close fit, although they cut off at her shins. The shirt fit alright as well, although it showed a bit of her naval and she had to undo the top button to let her chest breath.
"Thought so. Ready to go back to dying?"
Joshua's ribs collapsed in on his lungs where Annabelle placed her fist. He didn't move.
"Cut the shite, I'm clearly winning."
Joshua coughed, and drops of blood splattered on her cheek. "Whatever you say, dear." Joshua's hands swung up, and he clapped the sides of Annabelle's head. She stumbled back, disoriented. A hand gripped her bicep, and a knee was driven into her back, twisting the joint until it dislocated. Then she felt her shin bones snap as Joshua's foot connected with her leg. Suddenly Annabelle became aware that she had fallen onto a rooftop. Joshua stood above her, still smiling.
The sky above her evaporated into the inky blackness. The city appeared to be devoured as everything but the ground beneath her became a Stygian nothingness.
"Yeah," Joshua said. "You're winning all right." He kicked her in the chest and sent her flying into the void. Everything went dark for a moment. Before Annabelle could get her bearings, Joshua was in her path. He elbowed her spine, completely stopping her, and let her drop to the ground. She was still on the rooftop.
Portals, she realized. He trapped us in an arena of portals. Annabelle gritted her teeth and managed to set her shoulder back into place with a painful grunt. She pushed herself up to her knees, blocking out the pain from her leg, and tried to see Joshua. He was standing there, looking down on her, waiting for her to get back up and take her turn. His eyes were cool, confident, arrogant even. Annabelle saw the power he had coursing through those eyes that he turned to her. He was trying to scare her and watch her break down from the inside. As though she would ever give in to a trick like that.
She spat the blood from her mouth and slammed her hands into the ground. She flew upward and spun to drive her heel into Joshua's wound. He caught her ankle and slammed her back down to the ground.
"Are ya winnin' son?" Joshua said, chortling to himself. No, he was laughing at her. Annabelle was sure of it.
"Just shut up!" She rose to her knees and threw a punch, only for Joshua to catch it. She threw her other fist, but he caught it as well. He bent both hands backwards, feeling the bones in her wrist crackle under the force. Annabelle winced, pinned between Joshua's grip and her broken leg.
"Just die." Beams fired in all directions into the portals surrounding them. Somewhere inside they all intersected and joined together, forming a massive spike of energy that emerged from the top of the dome and fell atop Annabelle.
Annabelle felt with horrible clarity every micrometer of her flesh begin to freeze, charge, and burn all at once. Her muscles tightened up and refused to move, clinging desperately to sinew and bone as they were slowly torn apart. Her skin was being peeled off of her body like paper off a burning stone. Annabelle could do nothing. Not even close her eyes. Not even scream.
No, she urged the thoughts into her mind, a single word at a time. This. Is. Not. How. I. Die. This is not how I die! I will not die! I will not die I will not die I will not die I will not die I will not die I will not IwillnotdieIwillnotdieIwillnotdieIwillnotdieIwillnotdieIwillnotdieIwillnotdieIwillnotdieIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIEIWILLNOTDIE!
Her eyes pierced through the torrent of light at her arm and commanded it to move. The limb shook weakly, already given up. Annabelle grits her teeth and pushed her arm, forced it forward despite its protests. She tortured it, mutilated it, until it gave in and moved in a single fluid motion up, and straight back down. Every nerve in Annabelle's body was so numb that she barely felt her wrist separate itself from her trapped hand, leaving a bloody stump and fragmented bones. She thrust the stump forward and penetrated the flesh of Joshua's abdomen. The meat on her arm peeled away as she pushed it deeper and deeper inside of him.
The laser flickered away and the dome of portals dissipated. Joshua released Annabelle's hands and stumbled backwards. Annabelle's arm slid out with a sickeningly juicy, popping sound. Ichor and bile were leaked out the gaping hole left in his body.
"Huh," Joshua grunted, covering the wound with his hand. "You stabbed my spleen. I don't know where a spleen is or what it does, but I'm pretty sure that was it. My poor spleen."
Annabelle collapsed onto her side. Her vision blurred into a mixture of swimming colors. She blinked several times in an attempt to fix her sight, only to realize that only one of her eyes was blinking. The other eyelid had burned away completely, and that eye refused to perceive any shape. She looked over to see her hand, the one still attached. Her entire arm was red, and blood poured out of it in bursting red globules. Most of her body was like this, save a few patches of loose skin in some of the concealed curves.
Get up you mangy cur, Annabelle chastised herself. She rolled over to her good leg and scraped herself up to rest on its knee. The other leg gingerly helped to support her. Annabelle looked at her other arm; there was little more than bone up to the elbow, where all the flesh had peeled to like a banana. On one of the slabs of flesh was her hand, dangling uselessly like a rotten fruit refusing to leave the branch. It was around then that Annabelle's nerves went back to telling her brain how badly she was dying.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH! GAAAAHHAAAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAGH AAAAAAAH!" Purple flames erupted on the roof and ate away at the building. Everything fell into the pall of heat and smoke; Annabelle saw Joshua's body plummet down into the cinders. A feminine figure rose from the fire and took Annabelle's crippled body. It descended to the ground slowly, cradling her in its arms. She looked up at the face of her Tamed Noise and offered a silent thanks.
When the two reached the ground, Joshua was sitting on a pile of rubble, clapping his hands together. "Good show, really well done!" He cheered as the Noise let Annabelle down and she balanced herself on one foot.
"How. Are you still. Alive?" Annabelle bellowed, struggling for breath.
Joshua showed his teeth. "You know I could ask the same to you. I was really trying to kill you that last time."
"I have broken you, burned you, beaten and stabbed you!" she was screaming now. "You should be bleeding on the fucking ground!"
"Tsk tsk." Joshua wiggled his finger. "Should I now?" He lifted up his shirt where the blood stained through its tear. His stomach looked untouched.
Annabelle was dumbfounded. "Heheh, poor little Composer. So very young, doesn't even know what she can do yet." Joshua wiped the blood off his face and split his hair. The wound had completely reconnected, even the skin looked good as new. "Let me guess: once you became a Composer and got all your new powers, you decided to focus on brute strength and the ability to heal others. The thought never even crossed your mind that you'd need to heal yourself one day. Didn't even keep a little regenerative Pin in the case of emergencies. Ha, how arrogant." Annabelle ground her teeth and clenched her remaining fist.
"Oh don't give me that look, you know I'm right," Joshua scoffed. "Although I really must commend you on your sheer determination. Trapped and in excruciating pain, and you're desperate enough to snap off your own hand and stab me with the bone! I'm just a sucker for that kind of thing, it exhibits the power of pure instinctual will. Some people sit down and wait to die while others attack the beast using their own bloody limbs as clubs. It's beautiful in its own way, don't you think?"
Annabelle's eyes darted away. She held up her ruined arm to the Noise. "Cauterize it." The Noise looked at her worriedly. It wanted her to retreat and treat her wounds. "Cauterize it!" she shouted. It complied and laid its hands on the hanging flesh. Annabelle took a sharp breath as it burned away, leaving a charred stump and two sharpened black bones.
Just then Annabelle heard a sound, unlike anything she'd ever imagined. The closest analogy to it would be if the entirety of Hell heard a joke and chuckled at it in the exact same way at precisely the same time, and you heard them chuckling from under a pool of shaking gelatin. Annabelle turned to see what made this strange noise and found a flowing river of gory faces churning just beyond the flames of her Noise. Each on dressed from a different era, wielding a different weapon or no weapon at all, and each one had their eyes gouged out and some kind of terrible wound somewhere on their bodies. All of these things were making the same sound.
"What the fuck?!" Annabelle said, instinctually jumping away.
"Oh, you didn't notice our audience? He's been here a little while now, undoubtedly entertaining himself."
"He?" Annabelle asked incredulously. "Who's he? What are these things? They look like… like dead souls."
"Well, you already answered half of your own question! Not exactly worth a gold star but I can probably dig up a smiley-face sticker."
"Quit the sodding jokes and tell me!"
"Alright alright, settle down. Do you know how tiring it gets to have to explain everything to everyone? I'm allowed to entertain myself. Every face you see hovering behind your Noise's flames, every contorted image of a human body that swims through the River Styx and cannot reach the other shore, is a soul lost to both the Real Ground and the Under Ground. They were stolen from the Higher Ups, completely against their will, by a single creature with an undying gluttony for blood."
"You mean… a VAMPIRE made all these?"
"The word 'made' is generous. I'd say raped and enslaved. And not just a vampire, THE vampire. The Big Bad Bat himself, Count Dracula."
Annabelle looked at him like he was about to honk his nose. "You can't be serious."
"Completely serious."
"Dracula. As in Bram Stoker Dracula. Three wives, tried to take over London, got stabbed in the heart by some old codger."
"Nothing you just said was wrong. Hellsing kept him alive and enslaved him for some top secret experiments and as an anti-Midian weapon. He works for the British government now, swears his loyalty to Hellsing's heir. Complete jerk, threatened my life in a tea shop."
"And that power I felt before. That was him releasing all this?"
"Yeah." Joshua put his hands in his pockets and looked at the tide of souls. "Disgusting, isn't it? All these poor people being denied their final destination to accentuate the life of some thuggish creature. Even children who rightfully should have entered the Game for a chance to regain their lives."
"It's worse than disgusting," Annabelle said. "It's despicable. It's a crime deserving of the worst possible punishment."
"I'm glad we can agree on that, at the very least." Joshua spat at the horde, and they made that bizarre laughing noise again.
Annabelle thought for a moment. "Then why don't we go and kill the beast? Both of us, right now. We can finish killing each other later."
Joshua snickered. "Ah, youthful ignorance. Annabelle, even if we were both at our peak of power, we couldn't kill that vampire. You and I gave up the right to slay monsters when we chose the afterlife over the real world."
Annabelle crooked an eyebrow. "I don't understand. Richard and Reece have killed vampires before."
"Yeah, young ones. Probably even unbloodied. Dracula is an entirely different level of monster, one that we simply can't kill. We're just ghosts. It'd take a higher echelon of man to kill something like Dracula." Joshua turned his eyes and spoke to himself. "Hmm, maybe with a decade of training Neku could do it. I'll have to remember that for later."
"So, you're set on continuing to fight me?"
"'Fraid so. Terrible shame too, killing you seems like a waste of potential. Orders are orders, though." Annabelle narrowed her eyes at this last remark, and then suddenly was struck by a revelation. She flexed her hand and the ground beneath her cracked. "Ooh, still got some kick left in ya."
Annabelle's blood pressure spiked, spurting out from the myriad of torn veins all over her body. "You aren't working with Seras," she growled. "You're just preening her to be my replacement because the Higher Ups told you to! They sent you to assassinate me!"
Joshua winked. "Bingo, baby cakes. I can't imagine what you're going to do that made Them so upset, but I don't ask Them questions anymore." The flames around them grew higher, as though the Noise was sharing Annabelle's rage.
She spoke to the Noise, still glaring at Joshua. She'd begun to float inches above the ground. "Bring me my bag." A strand of fire snaked into view holding an aged animal-hide satchel. Annabelle opened the flap and plucked out two objects: Joshua identified them as Pins, old ones that were no longer in use. She unhooked one and slipped the needle into one of her exposed arm bones, clipping it into the marrow. This one gave off some static and electricity began to course down the bones and extend outward to a point. The other Pin she kept in her palm, and with a swing, it erupted into a length of barbed wire.
"Ah, finally I get to see some weapons!" Joshua grinned. "Talk about classics. You look ready to fight an army."
"Nope. Just two people." She raised her electric arm and spears of thunder manifested in the air and shot at Joshua. He slid under the volley, only to find the barbed wire wrap around his waist. Annabelle pulled him toward her and plunged her bones into his side. After the first strike, he unleashed a short burst of energy and broke out of her hold.
"I won't give you the time to heal!" She dashed after him, swinging both arms wildly. Joshua disappeared into a portal. "Oh no, you don't!" Annabelle swung the wire into the hole and caught him by the ankle. When she forced him back out, he summoned a laser that struck her square in the head. She anticipated Joshua to attack while she was dazed and summoned her Noise to guard her. But no attack came. In fact, that laser felt weak.
Joshua was floating several meters above Annabelle, looking off into the sky.
"What are you doing?" She yelled up to him. "Get down here and fight me!" She swung so the barbed wire would tear away Joshua's face. Joshua caught it in his hand and locked his fingers. Blood oozed out of his grip, but he was unperturbed.
"I'd love to, but I made a bit of an error," Joshua said with a pensive look. "I thought I'd be able to kill you with that one strike and wouldn't have to worry about this, but I was wrong. So now, since I probably can't finish you off in one quick motion, I'd be better off saving my strength for him." He cast the wire away, and it reeled back into Annabelle's Pin. For him?
Suddenly a winged man sped out of the sky and landed between Annabelle and Joshua. Reece spread his arms and wings protectively.
"Composer King, I felt you were in danger. Are you-" He looked back. Annabelle was completely naked to the point of having almost no skin or hair on her entire body. A bone was sticking out of her leg, and one of her arms was only a bone. Her hair was completely gone, and her left eye was constantly watering because it had no lid. "No, you are not alright."
"I'm fine," Annabelle lied like a champ. "Help me kill Kiryu."
"No Composer, you have to return to HQ and get healed. The best I can do out here is reset your leg bone."
"It's sticking out?" She looked down and was surprised to see her shin bone coming out at the side. Her entire lower body had been numbed after Joshua struck her in the spine. "Huh. But no, I'm staying here and finishing the fight. He attacked me, I'm not just going to run away with my-"
"Annabelle!" Reece yelled. She noticed the reserved care in his voice again. "Please. Go back. I can handle this, and your Reapers have almost completely wiped out the invader's forces. There is nothing left for you to concern yourself with."
Annabelle furrowed her hairless brow. "Not nothing. But… alright. I'll return to base. Contact me once you've tidied up, there are survivors that need to be guided out of the city."
Reece smiled. "As you wish, Composer King." Annabelle set off into the sky, her Noise trailing behind her. Joshua, Reece, and the Legion of Dracul remained where they were.
"You know she's going to try to kill Seras once she's healed up," Joshua said.
"Nobody else has to die tonight."
Joshua smirked and cracked his knuckles. "Oh, I disagree. Shall we get start-" A bang went off, and Joshua was knocked out of the sky. He picked himself up and rubbed the forming bruise on his shoulder.
Reece blew the smoke streaming out the barrel of his shotgun. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out an assault rifle. Joshua smelled Producer technology in the mechanics. These guns could hit anything in the UG.
"If you aren't going to listen like a good little boy," Reece said as an expression of calm ennui took over his face. "Then you should shut your smarmy mouth before I put you over my knee."
Amy kicked at a pebble and sent it skipping over the carpet of lifeless ghouls. She twirled her yoyo mindlessly, whistling to herself. Most of the remaining Players had gone into the church by then, convinced that the job was done and waiting for the day to be over. Meanwhile, some of the braver citizens inched out of the church to see all the carnage. They were debating whether or not they could find an egress point through some nearby bar just inside the barrier. Brad had climbed up to the roof and was fiddling with a few cassettes.
"B!" she yelled with a whine. "I'm bored!"
Brad glanced down at her. "Good. Boredom means nobody's dying. We did our job, we earned our lives back, let's just wait for the Reapers to hold up on their end of the bargain."
Amy flinched. She wasn't used to Brad talking like that anymore, and she did not like that look he gave her. "But, I mean, what fun is that?"
Brad's hands froze over the tape he was working on. "Fun? Amy, what part of this is 'fun?'"
"W-well, I mean…"
"Amy, look around! The whole city is burning, and there are dead people piled up to our waists! Fighting monsters and Reapers is one thing Ames, this is a different thing entirely. This is NOT fun."
Amy stammered nervously and pulled at her hair. She realized that it had fallen out of the pigtails she had put so much time into making. It was slick too, as though she just stepped out of the shower. She looked at her hand and saw cold, congealing blood mixing in with her hair dye. Her veins iced over at the sight of it, and she started shaking.
Brad sighed and slid the tape into his stereo. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm sore and exhausted. Can we please just take this time to rest a little?" He pressed a button, and smooth jazz began to pipe out. Amy looked away from her hand and saw Brad smile at her affectionately. She made an effort to return the gesture, and he turned over and laid on the roof.
She stood there a while listening to the saxophone, looking at Brad's bareback inch itself out of his oversized fur coat. Scars peaked out from his flesh, each one a memory the two shared. The scar below her chest began to itch. The buzzing of flies swirling around the remains at her feet irritated her knees. Amy decided to go back to the barricades.
Inside the barricade blocking off the main road were two sedans that lined up perfectly with each other so that a person could climb through. Neku was there, sitting at the window closest to the outside. He was looking out at the crowd of not-ghouls. The strange creatures had shown up perhaps a half hour before, and most of them swept down other streets while a few others stayed by the pile of vehicles. They seemed to be watching Neku, and he watched them.
Amy climbed in beside him. "Are the Arabian Knights still hanging out?"
"I don't think they're Arab. But yeah, they're still here. Haven't moved much." Neku picked up a fry from a paper tray and munched on half of it.
"Yo, where'd you get the snacks?" Amy asked. Neku pointed out to some hole-in-the-wall fish and chips place down the block as he ate the rest of the fry. "You went all the way out there? What about those dudes?"
"Oddly they didn't seem to care that much. Just kept watching me."
"Huh," Amy turned her head to the side. "Fucking bizarre." Her eyes turned back to the food sitting in Neku's lap. Her mouth began to water at the smell of the grease. "Hey, can I get some of those fries?"
"Yeah sure." He held out the bowl and let Amy take a handful.
"Thanks, man. Hey, you know what I never got? Why do the Brits call 'em chips? And they call chips crisps. If fries are chips and chips are crisps, what are fries to them?" Neku shrugged with a light grunt. Amy frowned, then stuffed all the fries into her mouth at once.
"Mmph," she mumbled. "Meebs sald." She swallowed them all in one gulp and leaned back. Out in the distance of the city, she could see faint flashes of light where some battle was still being waged. "You think someone's fighting their final boss out there?"
Neku turned back to her in confusion. "What?"
"Out there." She pointed toward the lights. "Is that a boss fight or just a regular fight? Maybe a skilled warrior beating the shit out of his rival."
"Umm," Neku's forehead wrinkled. "That's a weird way to put it, but… maybe? It's probably just the last soldiers trying to pick off each other."
"Hmm," Amy hummed. "We should go and check. Join the fight."
"Can't. There's no way to be sure the people in the church are safe. These things might just try to eat them once we leave."
"The other Players can stay and protect them. You, me, and B can leave."
"Heh, no offense to those other guys, but I don't think they'd last very long without us. These things are tougher than Noise, and they don't seem to be able to take the pressure."
Amy threw her hands up. "Well, what then, we sit around here on our asses doing jack shit while someone else fights for us? That's real fuckin' heroic." She crossed her arms in frustration and started tapping her foot.
Neku looked at her curiously. "Aren't you tired of fighting?"
"No." She looked down at the gas pedal. "I'd rather be knocking around skulls than sitting around doing nothing."
"Hmm. Why?"
Amy sneered. "Because we could be DOING something! I never got people who could just sit on a couch for days on end doing nothing. I'd at least like something to do with my hands. A fucking jigsaw puzzle would work."
Neku raised an eyebrow. "So if I gave you a jigsaw puzzle you'd be happy?"
"NO! Ugh, you don't get it. There's something exciting going on out there, and I'm not a part of it! I want to be involved, I wanna fight the bad guy and save the city! I want…" Her voice drifted off into inane grumbling.
"You want to be the hero," Neku finished.
"Yeah," she said, a little softer. "They say everybody's the main character of their own story. But so many people don't have interesting stories! I want my story to be exciting, with danger and epic conflicts. I want romance and intrigue and a final grand climax. I want to die by doing something amazing, not get hit by a fucking truck because British roads are retarded. When I get old and tell the stories of my life to my grandkids, I want them to look at me like I'm Superman."
"I see…"
"Let me give you an example," Amy went on. "When I was thirteen, my town was holding a Civil War reenactment, and I wanted to join the front lines. But because I'm a girl I could only be a nurse, and that's no fun. Nurses don't get to fight, they aren't a part of the action, they just hide behind battle lines and stick leaves in wounds or some shit. So I hacked off my hair, wrapped up my boobs, and stuffed a sock in my pants so it looked like I was a boy. They gave Brad and me our own muskets with fake knives at the end, and we went out there and kicked ass! Historically our side was supposed to lose that battle, but Brad and I kept fighting even after the rest surrendered. They'd shoot us and beat us, but we kept getting up and fighting back. We even managed to rally some of our forces and start a counter-offensive! We took a battle that we were supposed to lose and turned it into a stomping! Brad and I were also banned from participating again for life, but hey other towns do reenactments. Now come on, tell me that isn't a great story!"
Neku was at a loss for words for a minute. "It sounds like you lied your way into a fake fight and took it way too seriously. And cheated by not dying when you were shot."
"Bah, they were only flesh wounds. I got a doctor to look at the bruises and tell me if I'd die if a bullet went through those spots. He said I'd be fine."
"Uh huh…"
Amy stopped and looked at Neku's face. She shrunk down in embarrassment. "Oh please don't look at me like I'm crazy."
Neku waved his hands defensively. "No no, I don't think you're crazy! It's just a lot to take in. I only just met you, you know."
"Hmm," she mumbled doubtingly. She clutched at her knees protectively, suddenly feeling very insecure. "I'm going to go be with Brad. I'll tell you if anything changes, I guess." Neku opened his mouth to say something reassuring and profound. He ended up gurgling a few syllables and shut up. When Amy was gone, he smacked himself in the head and berated himself. If understanding other people was impossible, then trying to understand someone so completely opposite to himself was completely ludicrous. Neku never wanted the sort of excitement or heroic lifestyle Amy did, he was content to just be with his friends and never fight monsters again. It seemed like she was looking for monsters.
Amy slid down the barricade and crossed her arms. She considered making herself cry a little to persuade Brad into cuddling with her, but couldn't bring herself to do it. When she saw him, he was standing up with his boom box on his shoulder. He looked alarmed by something.
"What's up B?" He didn't need to respond; the far barricade began to shake as she spoke. Windshields cracked and shattered as the cars wobbled more and more violently. Some of the Players had noticed and were coming out of the church, while civilians retreated back inside.
Blood began to spread from the bottom of the unstable barricade. Amy spun her yoyo and let its energy pour out of it. She called out to Neku.
He popped out of the car and appeared next to her. "What's go – Woah. Everybody stay back, it's about to come down!" The Players scattered as vans and cars began to tumble down and crush the bodies below them. They crunched down into themselves and screamed in pain with burglar alarms. Some were still being pushed off to the side, opening up into a path. Neku placed a hand on his pocket of Pins, and the small bag Joshua had given him.
The last car was shoved away, revealing the hand that pushed them. A man, or at least what appeared to be a man, stepped out dragging a slab of metal as long as Neku was tall. He seemed to be a hairy man, with huge bushy locks reaching down to his knees and a full beard that went to his chest. He was wearing a loose rain jacket and slacks, and was completely barefoot and covered in filth of all kinds. His clothes were burnt and torn in multiple places, his exposed skin was encrusted with soil, and he was covered in blood. They also noticed that the horde of ghouls that had been behind the barrier was gone now, and the man was chewing on half of a human head. He sniffed the air like a dog with someone else's jaw dangling out of his mouth.
Neku instinctively palmed all his Pins and slipped them between his fingers. The second his Pins left his pocket the man's head turned to face him. Amy widened her stance and spun her yoyo faster and faster.
Neku squinted. "Is he blind?" Amy looked at Neku and back to the man. Behind a layer of dirty hair, she could just make out the milky-white of his eyes. His pupils looked completely dead, and she doubted he'd ever been able to see.
"Looks like it," Amy said. "Why'd he focus on you then?"
"Dunno, but something isn't right here. This guy doesn't look like a Nazi or a Reaper. He might have no place in this fight."
"He's eating a dead body," Brad pointed out as the man slurped down the rest of the skull. "Bones and all." They lurched with revulsion at the sound of bones crackling down the man's throat.
"You don't think he ate all the zombies back there, do you?" Amy asked
"No," Neku shook his head. "There's no way."
"Then where did they go?" Neku didn't answer this. The man sniffed again, shuffling his feet through dead meat. Suddenly he raised the hunk of iron he'd been dragging over his head and brought it down with a mechanic crunch. Neku and the Players recoiled as he did this, but the man didn't pick the thing back up. Instead, he gripped it at the hilt, occasionally tapping the main body with his long and jagged fingernail. While he did that Amy was able to really get a good look at the object for the first time; it appeared to be a single-edged blade, squared off at the end rather than pointed. The edge itself was dull and chipped in multiple places, mainly at the tip. It reminded her of a cartoonish butcher's knife, but big enough to cut through a moose instead of a porterhouse.
"Uh, guys…" One of the other Players muttered, trembling in fear. "Maybe we could just, you know, leave this one alone? Let the Reapers – GAH!" Before she could finish her thought the huge cleaver swung straight through her ribs and severed her spine, coming out the other side with a gush of blood. The man spun on his heels and cut through another Player's legs, and when he fell the man turned his head into paste with a single stomp. The last Player barely had time to raise his first Pin before the blade arched through the air and carved all the flesh from the front of his body, spilling brains and organs over the ground.
Brad made the mistake of blinking and missed most of this, so he couldn't react when the man came at him next. In a panic, Amy pushed Brad out of the way, and suddenly a whirlwind formed under the man and sent him into the air. Neku leapt after him, throwing fireballs that the man dodged nimbly and blocked with his cleaver.
Amy spun out her yoyo and rolled behind the two. She swung and struck the man in the back, slamming him back into the ground. Neku teleported to the fallen cars and touched one with two Pins. The car shot toward the man and broke against him, but completely stopped. With a click on the second Pin, the car exploded, sending the man further down the carpet of bodies. His feet remained firmly on the ground.
"B!" Amy called. "Give us a fucking beat, and make it a good one!"
"Rodger Dodger!" Brad popped a CD into the tray and let it spin. A whole orchestra and choir boomed from the speakers, and a golden aura enveloped Amy and Neku. Each felt their adrenaline rise tenfold, and their muscles felt as powerful as Cadillacs. "I call it 'Super Saiyan Symphony!'"
Aww, he does pay attention to my shows! Amy thought with a touched grin.
"Alright," Neku said, brandishing his Pins at the man. "Looks like we've got one last vampire to kill."
Amy spun her yoyo, feeling high on adrenaline. "Let's turn him to dust!"
Meanwhile, as the battle began, the last four Reapers were making a mad dash toward the origin of that terrifying wave of power. Richard took point while Megan and Rocky formed the sides and Oni held the rear. Oni was the only one to notice and recognize Neku below them, and called out to the others.
"Guys hold up, we've got survivors!" The Reapers turned back and followed Oni's gaze. "Looks like the Living Player and two regular Players are fighting a vamp."
"Uck," Rocky belched, recognizing Amy and Brad. "They can handle a single vampire, come on let's go." He tapped Richard on the shoulder to get everyone moving again, but Richard didn't budge. He was staring wide-eyed at the battle below them.
"What's up Richard?" Megan asked. Without a word he darted out of the sky, sword fully was drawn, and connected with the man's cleaver. The two separated, and everyone jumped back.
"Woah!" Amy skid to a halt. "Fucking hell man, warn people when you're about to do that! I nearly caved your skull in!"
"Ha, have fun with that sister." Neku turned at the sound of Oni's voice. The Reapers approached Richard's side, their various weapons charged and ready. "What's the problem Rich? You know this guy?"
"Yeah," Richard said. "You should too. Look at him, carefully." Oni squinted his eyes, unsure what he was meant to be seeing. Rocky scratched his head wearily.
Megan looked into the man's blind eyes and suddenly realized who it was. "Oh my God! Is that… Is that Butch?!" Oni and Rocky's mouths opened in shock. They could see it now too. Butch tapped his cleaver thoughtfully.
Neku stepped up. "You know him?"
"Know him?" Oni said incredulously. "This is the Butcher! He was our Conductor years ago! Then after our Composer ascended he disappeared, went AWOL."
"And now here he is," Rocky growled, crouching into a fighting stance. "The traitor come back to die."
"Hold on a sec Rock," Megan said. "We don't know if he is a traitor. Something could have forced him to leave." A loud clang rang in their ears as metal connected. Butch had charged at the Reapers and swung to cut them all down in one attack, but Richard blocked it. His blessed sword shimmered faintly against the blood stains on the cleaver.
"You were saying?"
"Amen!" Alexander Anderson charged forward, twin bayonets in both hands. The Holy Script buffered his approach, glowing protectively, offering the man their blessing. Dracula swung his accursed blade and met Anderson's bayonets, and blue flame erupted from the collision. The fire passed over the Script, and it all burned away meekly.
Dracula smiled as blood dripped down his cheek. "I'm impressed that you have developed yourself so fully, as a man." Seras stepped forward, prepared to enter the battle and fight by her master's side as a full vampire. Integra placed her arm in Seras' path and shook her head silently. She understood; this fight was a duel between monster and man, the ancient war living on in two bodies. So long as this balance was held, interruption would not be tolerated.
"My enemy, try to kill me!" Dracula challenged. "Go ahead and thrust your bayonet into my heart! As occurred five hundred years ago… As occurred one hundred years ago… Put an end to the interlude between my dreams, my beloved archenemy."
Anderson's resolute expression remained steeled. "You need not even ask!" He charged again, and they exchange blows. Their blades slice through the air with the fury and skill of master warmongers. Dracula feinted to the side and brought his sword down on Anderson's thick neck. Anderson dodged backwards and procured multiple bayonets, each one sliding out from between his fingers. He threw them perfectly to pierce Dracula's sordid flesh.
Suddenly the flying bayonets exploded into shards at the sound of gunshots. A bullet blew through Anderson's hand. Seras looked to where Dracula had been, but the ancient warlord had vanished. In his place stood her familiar master, Alucard.
"Pure silver, macedonium-processed mercury rounds in Marvels Chemical NNA9 cartridges. Thirty-nine centimeters in length, weighing sixteen kilograms, with thirteen-millimeter armor-piercing rounds." Alucard held up his black gun and admired it. "Jackal! It's perfect, Walter!"
Anderson yelled, enraged, and charged yet again. Alucard shot his silver gun, Casull, only for Anderson to block the bullet. His teasing curiosity satisfied, Alucard fired the Jackal and blew a hole straight through Anderson's arm. He ignored the wound and swung at the monster with his good hand, and connected with flesh. Three ghouls of Dracul fell, sliced in two. Alucard was floating away, and his army of blood filled the gap between him and Anderson. Suddenly a magic musket ball seared itself through his body, twisting and turning in his body. A hail of magic cards ripped Anderson's flesh. All of a sudden the man was facing an ancient army gathered from all the corners of Hell.
"Now what?" Alucard teased from his perch. "Now what will you do? Your monster is right here, Catholic! You're going to defeat me, right? What are your chances of winning? One in a thousand? One in ten thousand? A billion? A trillion? Or even a quadrillion?"
"Even if it's a novemdecillion, I can still more than handle it!"
Anderson carved into the army with his single hand. He cut down layer after individual layer of ghoul, but the swarm was a veritable hydra to his attacks. The pain in his crippled arm was screaming at his brain constantly, and soon exhaustion ebbed at Anderson's form. He paused before the Legion, struggling for breath.
"What's the matter, Christian? Your monster is over here," Alucard taunted him at the first sign of weakness. "You're wounded from head to toe. Your arm is cut through, and about to fall off. What will you do? Are you a dog? Or are you a human?"
"What does it matter, vampire?" Anderson stretched his head down and bit into the sleeve of his bad arm. "My arm has only been cut through, hasn't it? Now stop boasting and come at me. Come on and fight me! Hurry! Hurry!" He pulled his arm up with his teeth and tossed a bayonet into its hand. He caught the hilt deftly and let it rest there. Broken and half as effective as he could be, and still Anderson was prepared to fight. Alucard was struck by the man's drive, and was ecstatic.
"Fantastic," he whispered, barely loud enough for Seras to hear. "Humans are magnificent, all right." A wave of mist obscured Seras' vision, and she couldn't see Alucard or Anderson. When it passed over she saw that all of the Legion of Dracul had appeared and overtaken the area.
Anderson let out a battle cry through his sleeve and attacked the mass. Again and again, the tide of death would encompass him, and each time he would cut his way back out with his holy bayonets. "Exploding chain!" he shouted, and threw out a long chain of bayonets that dug into the heads of any ghoul in front of him. A second passed by, and the blades exploded, sending body parts and smoke in every direction. Through the smoke, Anderson could see the outline of Alucard.
"Forward!" he screamed, charging haphazardly through the crowd. Most of the ghouls were no more than inconsequential breezes against his blades. "Forward! Forward!" Dead hands scratched and tore at his flesh, but Anderson hardly felt it. There was Alucard. He was right there! "Forward! Forward! Forward! Forward!" A large bald man stepped in his path and stretched his arms.
"Get out of my way!" Anderson thrust a bayonet into the corpse's mouth, but it caught between the thing's teeth. Anderson wiggled it, but nothing budged. The man took hold of Anderson's good arm and began twisting it painfully. He winced, and the struggle in his heart began to dwindle. Anderson looked beyond the man and saw the undead cavalry charging towards him, spears out and pointed to his chest.
Seras noticed something moving at the corner of her eye.
Suddenly a hail of gunfire peppered the horses and their riders as though God himself had smite them. They fell to the ground steaming. Anderson could tell who it was instantly.
"Damn it, you fools! You giant, meddling dumbasses!" Seras recognized Iscariot, including Anderson's two Catholic pets. The blond man had a cigarette in his mouth and seemed to be letting his guns cool off. Wait, is that a guy? Seras suddenly thought. His chest is a little puffy. I think?
"If we return to the Vatican now, we will no longer be who we are!" the German shouted out to him. "We will no longer be Judas of Iscariot! We will become mere bags of flesh, filled with blood and human waste!" Could that be a girl's voice? It's so hard to tell!
There was a flash, and a spurt of blood from the big ghoul holding Anderson's arm. Its head split in two.
"'By crying out amen and killing, the world slippeth back into place.'" The Japanese nun crouched down low. "You're the one who taught us that, aren't you?! Now let us behold the deceit of the zealot!"
"You ignorant fools! All of you are thinking only of dying! Limbo has been made full!" Anderson turned away from them, his heart weary. They were all such stubborn idiots. He'd taught them well. "Very well, come with me. I'm about to charge my way into Hell at full speed! Join me, as you always have! Who are ye?"
"We are Iscariot!" the company announced to the caverns of Hell. "We are Judas of Iscariot!" They all charge into the fray, a single war machine consisting of iron and flesh. The machine bore into the enemy like a drill into ice, throwing chunks out by the handful. Whenever a part of the machine was torn from its mechanical innards the gear cried "Amen!" and detonated, taking out more of the opposing forces. Before long a huge section of the Legion of Dracul was blown apart, and Anderson stood before Nosferatu yet again. All of Iscariot froze to watch the spectacle.
"You stand before me?" Alucard asked cheerily. "I'm impressed. I'm impressed, Iscariot. I'm impressed, Alexander Anderson!" Anderson didn't respond. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long wooden box wrapped loosely in cloth.
"You're not the only one who carries a weapon that can end life," Anderson said with a sense of finality.
Alucard continued to smile. "That's your ace in the hole, is it?" Anderson's hand flexed, and the wood began to crack between his fingers. Alucard's joyful smile began to waver, then slowly it fell and curled into a malignant scowl. The box shattered, and Anderson was left holding a large wooden nail.
"A nail?" Alucard inquired. "The Holy Shroud… the Holy Grail… the Lance of Longinus… That is the last of the lost holy artifacts of Rome?"
"That's right," Anderson said with some reverence.
"That lingering scent of a miracle – it's the Holy Nail of Helena!"
"That's right!" Anderson turned the nail in his hand and aimed it at his heart.
"Don't do it, Anderson!" Alucard pleaded. "Are you trying to become a monster?! A monster of God?! Do you mean to become an actual plaything of the divine power of immortality? It's the same thing. It amounts to the same rubbish! Whether a monster that affirms God, or a monster that denies God… Do you intend to use the scrap from that miracle to become more scrap from that miracle, yourself? Do you mean to drive you, me, and our duel into the afterlife? A monster like me… A weak monster who could not bear to be human must be defeated by a human." Alucard looked sympathetically at Anderson. "Don't do it, human. Don't become a monster… like me."
Anderson felt the emotion in Alucard's plea, but was uncaring. "I just want to be a bayonet. I just want to be a bayonet of God's punishment. I wouldn't have minded being born a storm. I wouldn't have minded being a threat. I wouldn't have minded being an explosive. I wouldn't have minded being a simple, terrible windstorm, without heart or pity. If I can become like that by thrusting this into me, then I shall. May it be so."
Anderson fell to his knees and plunged the nail into his chest, screaming. From the wound, things began to spread over his body: thin vines, covered in thorns. They snaked up his chest and dug into his skin, spreading invisibly throughout his body.
"Y-you…" Alucard stepped up and put the Casull to Anderson's head. "You blasted fool!" With the nearly imperceptible flash of a bayonet Alucard's arm was severed from his shoulder, and his neck was sliced in two. His body lifted the Jackal and fired a bullet straight through Anderson's head. From both Alucard's neck and Anderson's head tendrils sprouted, one made from blood and the other made of thorns. Alucard scowled at what used to be a man.
"Thorns…" the Japanese nun muttered fearfully. "The thorns…!"
"Anderson!" the German said. "Just what have you become?!"
"His body is no longer that of a man," Alucard said, reforming his own head. "Now, the only way for both you and I to die and return to dust, is to have this gouged out of us." He put his hand over his chest. "The viscus at our heart."
Anderson crossed his bayonets and stared down Alucard. His vines swirled around him menacingly. Alucard met his gaze and crossed his guns, and his blood circled behind him. The two monsters began to tear at each other with blades and bullets, each one completely useless on the other. Every bullet wound was wrapped by vines, and every cut melted back together. Alucard attempted to attack Anderson with a Familiar, but his vines crushed it effortlessly. The vampire aimed his gun at Anderson's heart and fired, only to find a patch of vines caught the spinning bullet. Suddenly Anderson leapt into the air, and the vines blocked the scene from Seras' view. The gunshots stopped. Suddenly she saw with horror that the Legion of Dracul had caught fire.
"Master!" she shouted. The vines dispersed a little to the sound of faraway explosions, and Seras was able to see the combatants. Half of Alucard's body was aflame, and Anderson was moving to plunge his bayonet into her master's heart. Seras vaguely perceived Integra stepping out of her way when she dashed forward.
"Master! Master!" Anderson's Catholic pets didn't move a muscle. They were too struck with fear and the warring monstrosities, but Seras felt no fear. She would save her master alone, undaunted. She was able to grab Anderson's blade as it slid into Alucard's flesh.
"Master!" she called, trying to get his attention. Alucard's eyes were open, but they looked misty. His mind seemed far away. As she tried to rouse Alucard Seras felt the thorny vines slither down her arm. All of a sudden she was burning, and the pain began to consume her. All around them the fires continued to eat away at Alucard's captive lives, until soon no monster was left standing save those three caught in the middle.
"Master!" she cried out desperately. "Master!"
"Keep it down, policewoman." Seras looked up in surprise. Alucard was looking at her in the same annoyed way he always did. "Your voice carries out as loud as ever. Almost like that of a resounding song." Seras calmed herself, and felt a tad ridiculous.
"Master!" she said, relieved. Alucard moved his hand to cover hers, and together they pushed against the blade reaching for his heart.
"Anderson…" he sighed, standing up taller than he had been. "I would not have minded being defeated by you… had it been that day… Had it been that wasteland at sunset, on that day, five hundred and twenty-three years ago… I would have given you my heart. But I cannot do that any longer. You cannot defeat me!" The bayonet snapped in their hands, along with the vines ensnaring Alucard and Seras.
"At any time, it is only a human that can defeat a monster. It must be… a human!"
Seras backed away and admired her master. His form had shifted again to something black and base as opposed to his flashy red coat or regal chthonic armor. Alucard bared his teeth and hissed, and he charged toward Anderson as a wild animal would. Anderson stretched his vines to tie up the vampire, but Alucard chopped them apart with his gloved hands. He had no guns, no Familiars, and no ghouls. He carried no grace or suavity, and he spoke no words. Anderson and Alucard thrashed against each other relentlessly and violently as they growled at each other and tried to savage the other's flesh. Alucard pushed himself through the melee and drove his hand deep into Anderson's chest until it came out the other side. He ripped the monster's chest in two, distorted heart in hand, and crushed it as it beat between his fingers.
The world paused. Everyone watched with their eyes wide and mouths agape. Anderson fell to the ground, and his flesh began to peel apart like papier-mâché and float away on the wind. The sun peaked over the horizon, casting Alucard's shadow over the broken body. It shimmered on Anderson's bloodless flesh.
"You are me!" Alucard screamed at the body. "You are me! I was also the way you are!" Alucard put his hands to his face as blood sobbed from his eyes. "I was also the way you are!"
The strained sound of laughter crawled from Anderson's body. "Do not weep, fiend. Were you chased by a child?" Alucard looked up, regaining his composure slightly. "Do not weep, fiend," Anderson continued. "You became a fiend because you didn't want to cry, right? It is because a man cries until his tears dry up that they become fiends, and are reduced to being monsters, until that's all they are. So then, laugh. Laugh arrogantly and insolently. Like you always do. I pass on. You keep living on. How much longer must your miserable self-keep living?"
Alucard wiped away his tears and smiled down at Anderson, as requested. "Until the greatness of my past is demolished by the greatness of my future," he answered cryptically. "But hey, I will see you soon, my archenemy, someday, in Limbo." Anderson chuckled again, and his body continued to break apart and blow away.
"I hear voices," he whispered. "The voices of children…" Seras noticed Integra stabbing a sword, Dracula's by appearance, into the ground. It made the shape of a cross over Anderson's decaying body. Anderson lifted his hand to the sunlight as it fell apart. "I hear voices at play… The children… I must go… They're all waiting… Maxwell… You mustn't cry… everyone… Say your prayers… before bedtime…" Iscariot appears to have been thrown into the darkest depths of despair. Integra has turned away from the scene entirely. Seras looked down, unsure how to feel. She felt dark, but felt that did not suit her.
"Amen…" Anderson finished as the remainder of his head fell away to dust. Alucard smiled down on him.
"Amen," he answered, somewhat satisfied.
"Amen." A polished boot stomped down on Anderson's remains. Everyone looked up to see buildings cut at angles and slide off their foundations, crashing into each other. Lightly glowing wires waved through the air from their wielder.
A young man placed a cigarette in his mouth. He was well-dressed with slicked-back black hair and a shining monocle. Seras was almost convinced that she was seeing one of the tattooed Nazi woman's hallucinations, but she knew better. The man standing in front of them was terribly real.
Integra was the one who could bare to say it aloud. "W-Walter! Is that you Walter?!"