Vampires don't have powers... I don't know who told me this, but they're dead now, so whatever. There are two types of "power" that I have encountered whilst fighting vampires; magic, and what I call "power" because I don't have a better name for it. Magic can typically be defined as a "borrowed" power, as in, you would need to perform a ritual in order to acquire the usage of this power. Power, however, is intrinsic by nature, and you're either born with it and have full access to it, or you discover you have it and con manipulate it later in life. Either way, in terms of difficulty to fight, remember this; magic bad, power worse.
-excerpt from the Vampire Journals
Chapter 5: Motel Quickie
Alucard had called on room service three times already, mostly to bring him more wine, and at least twice they had said, "Who's that guy outside your door trying to break in", but Alucard wasn't too worried. If someone was stupid enough to break into his room when he was in a bad mood, then they were going to be the cleaning service's problem soon enough.
Funny, but he couldn't trace his bad mood back to any particular source. He had initially thought that it was because he realized his infiltration unit was stupid enough to allow one of their own to get murdered right in front of them, but after careful consideration, he realized that he had known from the beginning how shit they were going to be. When you applied for a job that no one else wanted, you were either dedicated to the work, or you were desperate. He most definitely got a desperate vibe from Pip.
He tried, then, to find exactly what it was that was making him so upset. After thinking for some time, he finally decided to stop thinking about it and just enjoy watching the Clone Wars. He was on the episodes with the big black diamond in the sky where the force manifested itself into three morons who were worse than the Kardashians at handling family drama. He was to the part where Ashoka was turned to the dark side and was fighting Anakin over a sword or something.
"Yeah, tell her, Anakin", Alucard shouted, a little tipsy, "fuckin' yeah! Tell her off!"
Anakin called her by her pet name, and Ashoka replied that she hated being called that name. And right about then, it hit Alucard. The answer to why he was in such a bad mood.
He was failing his student. She was hurting, scared, in need of guidance, and he was brushing her off to watch a show on Netflix. The hell kind of teacher does that?
He thought back to when he had commanded armies, thinking about all of the students and lieutenants he had taught over his years of life and death, and tried to think if he had ever made the same mistakes there. And with a start, he realized he had.
He had avoided consoling his mercenaries with any personal problems, of course, but that was because they were mercenaries, swords for hire, and had no bearing over his personal life, other than vengeance and victory. And in death, he had consoled his men personally to shape them into better soldiers. But he could think of at least one disastrous problem that he had simply ignored because he had no answer for it.
Vasya, his First Lieutenant and Protégée.
She had been completely and totally obsessed with him.
It had started out healthy enough. He had "saved" her, so naturally, she wanted to prove her worth to him. Battle after battle, campaign after campaign, she had fought to the best of her ability and to the detriment of the enemy, whoever they happened to be; bastard Turks, Christian knights, even other undead armies. Her battles had been epic, her exploits legendary, her leadership exemplary.
One day, he noticed that she was following him at a distance. It didn't alarm him initially, but when the entire day had passed without her approaching him, he began to grow concerned. Three days later, and she was still trying to follow him around. Eventually, it grew to every single day that she was back at his castle. He pretended not to notice, even when he had stumbled upon the shrine that she had built to him and secreted away, complete with an apple that had his teeth marks in it, clearly covered in a fresh coat of saliva, despite the apple being several days old.
He had no doubt in his mind about how unhealthy this was, and it really put him off. Yet he had no idea how to even begin to approach this kind of topic, so he allowed this behavior to continue, pretending not to notice... until her death, nearly fifty years later.
Now, of course, Seras had a completely different set of problems, a set that was easily approachable, and more than likely easily fixable. Yet here he was, pushing her away and ignoring her.
This had to change.
He resolved that when she came back to the room, they were going to have a talk, and that he would try and smooth things over with her. He would give her his tips, all of them, no homo, and then he would train her.
He smiled to himself, and leaned back onto the couch, drinking deeply from his glass of wine.
And right then, the door cracked open.
...
Seras changed in the hotel dressing room by the pool, unbuttoning her Helsing uniform, and folding it up to make sure it didn't wrinkle. She slipped into the onesie, noting that the front was a bit stretched out, showing a lot more cleavage than she was usually comfortable with. She didn't think it would be much of a problem, considering that she was hanging out with professionals.
When she closed up the locker, and stepped outside of the dressing room, however, she found an entire group of four professional mercenaries ogling her boobs.
Great, she thought, already off to a good start.
At least it was better than trying to interact with Alucard. If she didn't know him any better, she would swear he didn't have a soul. But since she knew him, she could confirm it. She had never once seen him display any positive emotion, or give her any proper guidance, or do anything that wasn't entirely selfish, for that matter. The man was nothing more than an asshole, a drain on the positive energy of the world.
She stopped those thoughts in their tracks, starting to feel bad. He might not do good things often, certainly, but he had saved her. Even if he had been the one who had shot her, he could have just left her, but chose not to.
The bad thoughts started again. Of course he didn't leave her behind; he didn't want her death on his conscience. There he was, going and being selfish again, dragging her into a world she didn't want to be in, turning her into a being she didn't want to be, forcing her to do horrible things that she didn't want to do.
Once again, she pushed those thoughts aside. She and the boys were here to swim, and that was what she was going to do. Or just relax in the water. Either or, she wasn't here to think about Alucard. She was here to relax.
As she thought this, one of the men charged towards the huge heated pool, and jumped, flipping straight into the water. The rest of the Americans, enthused by their comrade, ran after him, jumping into the pool in odd and hilarious poses. Seras chuckled.
She turned towards Pip, who was still calmly walking towards the pool beside her.
"Aren't you going to jump in, Mr. Bernadotte", she asked, assuming that he would join his men in their hilarity.
"I believe not, Mrs. Victoria", he replied. "I came here to relax, and that's what I'm going to do."
He eyed her curiously her with his good eye.
"Unless you'd rather I join my men?"
"You can do whatever you want", Seras told him neutrally.
I think she's into me, Pip thought.
...
Just to dunk on the newer Clone Wars' General Grievous, Alucard pulled up a video of the old Clone Wars General Grievous fight scene on the TV, and was watching that instead of Grievous' many terrible fight scenes in the new Clone Wars.
"Yeah, do it to 'em", Alucard yelled at the TV. "My boy Grievous got the mofuckin short stick in the EU. You know what they need to do? Go to any Anime company, show them this fight scene, no other context, and tell them to make an Anime solely with that in mind about General Grievous. Think about all the Star Wars fans that would fill their pants at the sight of that!"
"Ahem", James Braid said from behind him.
"I mean, add in a spicy Jedi love-triangle, and you've got an Anime of the year, E-Z!"
"Ahem."
"Disney please."
"AHEM!"
"I know you're there; I'm intentionally ignoring you", Alucard informed his unauthorized visitor.
"Then allow me to introduce myself", the man said. "I am James Baird, and I run this mother fucking city. And I hear you're here to upset my rule."
"Hold on, this is the best part. Look at that shit! He's grabbing a sword with his feet, and using that bitch to destroy these expert swordsmen! I mean, how the fuck could you allow a character like that to become such a shitty secondary?! Come on, George!"
"I was going to kill you", James admitted, "but then I saw that you've got some friends. And I'd rather not deal with them, too."
James's sharp teeth showed in a mean grin.
"I'd rather you fight them."
"Speaking of fighting", Alucard interjected, "the swordplay in this scene is on point! I mean, look at those guard positions! Someone who really loves to be accurate and realistic made this, you can tell. Thank you, Samurai Jack!"
The grin faded from James' face, and was replaced by a scowl.
"Wanker", James mumbled.
Alucard wheeled around faster than Jams could react, a .454 in his hand, pointed straight at the middle of James' chest.
"You need a demonstration or something", Alucard asked casually.
"No", James answered carefully, slowly reaching into his pocket. "But I do need your help."
"Ok", Alucard said cautiously, "but I'm not going to suck your dick."
"...What?"
"Well, look at yourself. You're so deprived that you look deprived. So I figured you'd want a blowjob or something."
"No one is sucking anyone's dick", James assured him, pulling his pocket watch from his pocket. "All I need you to do is watch this here watch. Watch the big hand on it."
"Kinky", Alucard told him. "Not really what I'm into, but I'm sure I can make it work."
"What's with the sexual references, mate", James asked. "You dry?"
"No", Alucad told him, "but I'm pretty sure that if you're smart, you have something close to an army waiting outside to clean up after you if shit starts going wrong. So I'd prefer to be on your 'good side' wink wink."
"I'm not gay."
"You come in here dressed like that and tell me you're not gay? Do you get dressed professionally, then? By professional male fluffers?"
"All I want you to do", James told him, "is follow my watch."
"I take notice of the fact you didn't say 'no'", Alucard told him. "But for the sake of moving this dull-ass conversation along, I'll take a look at your little watch."
Alucard glanced towards it, and right away he could tell that it was a cursed item. More than likely, the guy had come across it after breaking into Michael Aquino's home, probably stole it while Michael was busy eating children. The thing looked like it had had so many rituals applied to it that it was about to get up and walk out of the room in sheer disgust. It was so cursed it even smelt bad.
And as Alucard watched this thing, he realized that it was having quite literally no effect on him.
He did his absolute best to suppress a grin.
"You are becoming rather tired."
"I am becoming rather tired."
"When I snap my fingers, you will sleep."
"When you snap your fingers, I will sleep."
Snap.
Alucard went limp, his .454 thumping to the floor.
"From now on, I control you. I rule your existence. I am your god!"
Alucard didn't know how to respond to that without laughing, so he didn't.
"When I snap my fingers, you will-"
Just to make things interesting, Alucard started snoring. Loudly.
"When I snap my fingers, you will-"
SNORE
"When I-"
SNOOOOOOORE
"Oh for fuck's sake, just wake up already!"
Alucard snapped awake.
"Now, you will destroy your friends!"
"Ok daddy."
"What?"
"What?"
"... Go, go, go! Just bloody kill your friends!"
"On it", Alucard said, swiping his .454 off of the ground.
Under his breath, Alucard mumbled, "Dumbass... little do you know, I don't have any friends!"
He walked over to the door, flung it open, and walked out to go warn the boys about the impending attack.
...
Seras was having a great time. She got to lay out, soak in the pool, and watch the actually well-built mercenaries jump in the pool like a bunch of seven-year-olds at a birthday party. She was enjoying herself quite a lot when Pip swam over to her and began asking questions.
"So, Mrs. Police Girl, how did you become a vampire?"
Since it wasn't exactly the question she had been expecting, and since she was in a particularly good mood, she decided to humor him.
"Well", she began, "Alucard accidentally shot me, and then he turned me into a vampire to save me."
"Yeesh", Pip commented, physically cringing. "That stinks."
"Yeah", Seras took a moment to see if Pip would ask her any other questions.
"So, he shot you... and then saved you... why?"
"I", Seras paused. She had thought long and hard about this subject, too, and the more she examined it, the less it made sense. Was it possible that Alucard, the biggest asshole in existence, had suddenly gained a shred of compassion? Or was it more sinister than that? Was her death pre-meditated, to turn her into an errand dog of doom?
"You know what", Pip said, interrupting her thoughts, "I'm sure that he had his reasons."
Seras was relieved that Pip was able to pry her from her thoughts. She had spent hours at a time trying to dissect that night, thinking about every word, every motion, every expression, and ultimately, she exhausted herself every time trying to find an answer. Every time, she had come to the same conclusion.
There was no rhyme, nor reason, to any of it. There was no point, no purpose. Alucard did what he pleased because it pleased him. Perhaps he admired her breasts. Maybe that was why he had saved her.
She once again shook herself from those thoughts. She was here to relax, not unravel mysteries that were paradoxical, overwhelming, and already seemed age-old. So, she allowed the water to soak her skin.
"Yes", Seras said with a sigh, "I suppose he does."
With a start, Seras realized that Pip was trying to make conversation with her. She hadn't come to make conversation, but it was more than likely that Pip felt uncomfortable not knowing her, despite the fact that he inherently trusted his life to her. In fact, when she thought of it that way, it wasn't just rude, it was dangerous for her to not interact with him on some level.
"So", she began, "you're a mercenary?"
"As I live and breath, mademoiselle."
"How did you get started doing that?"
"Well, my Grand-pere was a mercenary, and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. So, after a very boring deployment with the force editactive, I started my own small company, Force de Garde, and started ending... or maybe starting... wars in the middle east. Then we got busted for... you know what, never mind. We were out of the job, and hired on to the Helsing Organization as guards, and here we are!"
"Fascinating", Seras said, mostly to keep from asking too many questions. She looked him up and down, finally deciding on, "Wow, nice braid!"
"Thanks", Pip said, running a hand along it. "I keep a braid for every friend I lost in the... uh... wars."
And for every man he had killed. But he didn't think that would be an appropriate topic.
"I'm sorry for your loss", Seras said genuinely. "That's a lot of friends."
"Ha, ha", a familiar voice said behind them, "the French military sucks and loses all of their men to shit tactics so Pip lost all his friends to arab cavalry charges."
Pip and Seras both turned their heads to see Alucard, with one of his handcannons in his hand. He pointed his gun at the ceiling, and began firing randomly.
"Hey guys", Alucard said through gunshots, "if you couldn't tell, we're under attack. Get your shit and get ready for a fight."
"Out of a minute sense of mild curiosity", Pip said, "I must ask; why in the merde are you shooting the ceiling of this pool that no one else fortunately happens to be in?"
"I'm hypnotized", Alucard said, as if that explained everything. "Get your shit quick. This guy's got an army of loyal followers waiting outside."
"Who-"
"No time to explain", Alucard shouted, slapping a fresh mag into his silverballer. "We get our shit, we strike first, we strike hard, we leave no survivors, we get cheesesteaks. Any questions?"
"Where will we get cheesesteaks", the southerner asked.
"Truly a man of detail", Alucard praised. "I haven't decided. Tomorrow we find out!"
The three Americans, one Frenchman, and English woman ran to the dressing room. They tore open their lockers, not even bothering to change, grabbing whatever weaponry they could get their hands on. The Mercs launched out of the dressing room one by one, handguns loaded, ready to tear shit up.
Seras was the only one left empty-handed. Alucard grabbed her arm on the way out. She looked up at him, curiosity in her posture.
He produced his other silverballer, handing it to her by the barrel. She looked bewildered for a moment, and looked up at him questioningly.
"Take it", he told her. "I've got another one."
When she still looked hesitant, he added, "I trust you."
She nodded, grabbed the grip of the big pistol, and followed her master down the hall with it in her hands.
...
Men in black suits and body armor, sporting automatic rifles, were already pouring into the hotel lobby by the time the group of Mercs got down to the lobby floor. In fact, as soon as their elevator doors opened, they were sprayed with bullets. Alucard threw himself into the thick of it, charging out the door, and unloading with his pistol, hitting three brainwashed sheeple in various unarmored sections of their bodies, splashing crimson essence all over the floor and walls. But dozens more were making their way into the lobby, and as Pip and his crew charged out of the elevator and spread out amongst the sparse cover, Seras found herself freezing up in the elevator.
Whilst Alucard drew fire, all of these trained professionals were ducking, diving, dodging, and painting the floor red. Yet here she was, curling up into a ball, trying not to get shot. She would have called herself a coward, but she was, truly and terribly, scared out of her mind.
Alucard dove into the middle of the meddlers, lashing out with his hands in no particular style, simply touching people, and watching their decrepit bodies fly away from him in all directions. She didn't know how he did it, but part of her hoped that she never got as powerful as him; she didn't know if she could live with herself if she wrought that amount of destruction.
She cringed as another round zipped past her head. She squeezed herself tighter together, trying to remain as small as possible. The Mercs all dashed from their positions as Alucard switched styles again, grabbing one sheep, shoving the barrel of his silverballer into his gut, and shooting through him into other sheep, like some kind of fucked up John Wick rip-off. He spun around, keeping the meat shield in front of him, firing through him into other sheep, spraying blood all over the walls.
When his shield began to receive lots of fire, and finally was shed of all of its life, he tossed it away, and backed up slowly towards the elevator, rifle rounds slashing through him, leaving small streaks of blood. He fired back, blasting whole limbs off of sheeple, where their smaller rounds slashed through and left little in the way of damage. However, when lots of these rounds were smashing into him, lots of damage was occurring, ripping internal organs, tearing muscle from bone, ripping through the spinal cord. Alucard jerked, dancing around like a ballerina, and then fell into the open elevator, right as the doors began to close once again. The doors closed on his jerking body, bumping his body just slightly.
His eyes were upturned to face towards Seras'. And as she stared into those eyes, another sheep walked up to Alucard's limp body, and forced the barrel of the rifle onto his face, holding down the trigger. Alucard's face began disappearing before her eyes, and she suddenly felt rage coming over her. Despite her reservations about Alucard, he had saved her life, and because of that, in a strange way, she owed her life in return. And watching him be savaged like that, it set off something in her.
She brought the gun up, leveling it at the sheep's head, and shouted, "Leave him alone!"
The sheep whipped around to look at her, leveling his rifle, as Seras squeezed the trigger. A hole appeared in his forehead, and the back of his head exploded outward, coating the inside of the elevator in brain matter, bits of skull, and pieces of flesh, leaving a grapefruit sized hole in the back of his head. Strips of flesh slapped against the front of his head.
His body crumpled to the floor, his bulging eyes looking in Seras' direction. Almost immediately, she began to feel remorse like never before. There was no detachment like there had been with the zombies, who were already dead, there was no blood rage like with the ghouls, and it was nothing like the vampires, who were not only already dead, but also evil to the core. This was a man, pure and simple, who had been brainwashed, probably against his will, to fight for some prick he probably didn't even agree with.
Alucard's face quickly stitched itself back together, and Alucard winked at her, grabbed the rifle from the dead guy's hands, and laid on the trigger, sweeping the crowd of sheeple, who briefly retreated. Alucard pulled a mag out of the rig of the dead sheep, and pushed the fresh one into the rifle's well. He whistled, getting the southerner's attention, and tossed him the rifle. Alucard ripped the rig off of the dead sheep, and slid it across the floor towards the southerner.
Alucard shot up, feathering the trigger of his handcannon to get the sheeple to retreat further. He turned towards Seras, who was curled into the fetal position, tears sliding from eyes that weren't blinking. He wanted to try and do something to make her feel better. But there wasn't enough time to do something like that in a firefight.
Another round zipped through his chest, snapping him back into action. He raised his pistol, and splashed the wall with the blood of another sheep, who lost his head as it was straight decapitated by a heavy .454 round. Around this time, the sheep decided that they had taken too many casualties, and had initiated a tactical "rolling tide" retreat, using a wave of men to empty their rifles, then duck and melt into another wave, and so on and so forth.
The last few trickled out of the door, and Alucard finished his mag, slapping a fresh one in, and replacing it to his jacket. He glanced at the other mercs, who had already begun stripping down the dead sheep of their equipment. He instead walked right over to the elevator, the door of which had closed. He pressed the up button to open the door, and it slid open to find the scene much how he had left it.
He stepped inside, blocking her view of the dead sheep, and he held out a hand to her. She slowly looked up at him, tears still streaming down puffy eyes that more than likely hadn't blinked the whole time. She continued to keep a level stare on him, and he continued to keep his hand outstretched. Eventually, she reached up, taking his hand in hers, and he reached down, gently pulling her up by her shoulders. He shielded her sight of the dead sheep with his body, and led her out of the elevator. The mercs wordlessly followed him, now fully equipped with rifles and body armor.
Alucard put his hand in front of her eyes, shielding her from seeing the other slaughtered sheep. Their mangled bodies were surrounded by a pool of blood and gore that would have rivaled Left 4 Dead 2, Postal 2, Hatred, and Untitled Goose Game all together. The entire hotel was wrecked beyond recognition, with bullet holes covering the walls, and shattered glass everywhere.
As they walked out of the lobby, a shaky cough from the receptionist desk drew his attention. He waited until he had walked Seras to their car, got her properly seated, and then casually mentioned to Pip that he would be back in a minute. He walked back into the hotel lobby, and walked over to the front desk reception. And of course, who should be sitting up against the wall, with a gaping hole in his neck, deader than dead, but the kid with the long hair and acne.
There was nothing he could do for him now. No favors, no 25%, not even kind words would help him now. He stood up, and walked out of the hotel, listening to the sound of police sirens in the distance. He slipped into the seat next to a shivering Seras.
He simply told Pip, "Drive", and the good commander did so.