Everything- the wallpaper, the carpets, the furnishings, even the parts of the subflooring- had been quickly stripped and replaced. If not for the constant unease that permeated the atmosphere like a dense fog, one could almost be forgiven for thinking nothing of note could ever happen in such a place. However, Seras was constantly reminded of the massacre less than a month before. The smell of rotting flesh and blood followed her everywhere she went; it was nauseating even for her. She could hardly sleep because of it.
She sighed, crossing her arms and hunching forward as she patrolled seemingly endless corridors. Hushed whispers followed by stunned yelps and hasty footsteps echoed across the mansion wherever she appeared; it seemed to be happening much more lately following her recent… actions. She wasn't dense. The regular house staff and even some other soldiers had always been wary of Seras, but word travels fast. It wasn't long before everyone had known what she'd done, and suddenly, caution turned to fear.
Of course, she couldn't blame them. Seras was just as scared. She wanted to tell herself that she was only acting in self-defense, that she hadn't done anything wrong, but Seras knew, deep down, that wasn't true. Pure bloodlust had overtaken her; she lost control in ways she never thought possible. The blood stuck to her skin that night; she could feel it even after scrubbing her skin raw in the bath that night, and the faces of her former allies' twisted, mauled forms flashed across her mind whenever she closed her eyes.
She was a monster, truly a freak of nature.
A devilish laugh echoed across her mind, though she couldn't quite tell if it was amused by her or taunting her for such a thought. Alucard was always in her head, reading her thoughts and emotions as if she were a book. She hated it and fought the part of her that craved it.
What a shame you feel that way… You chose the night, police girl…
Disappointment and shame suddenly washed over her, and a groan escaped her throat. She knew he was right. She chose this for herself– to be this way. Seras just couldn't understand why she struggled so much to accept that, or why she still couldn't bring herself to drink blood.
Seras had been so entrenched in thought she had forgotten her slow patrol. Without a stutter, she softly bumped against a rigid figure. "Oh, sorry, Walter." A certain dread pierced through her. Even Walter had kept his distance after that night.
"It's quite alright, Miss Victoria. Actually, it's fortunate that we've run into each other. I've been meaning to speak with you."
She raised a brow. Have you? "Really? What for?"
"I know you've been quite busy lately with the recent staffing shortages," he spoke matter-of-factly yet apologetically. "I hate to ask you, but Sir Integra has assigned you another duty. As you know, we've been keeping it-"
"It?"
"Ah- the younger brother from the attack last month."
"Oh…" Her dread turned to anger. She hadn't forgotten him, as much as she wanted to. He was the cause of all this heartache, why she fell ill with bloodlust, and why everyone looked at her with such contempt. "That one," she said, poison dripping from her voice.
"... Yes." A new tension settled upon them, and he looked uncomfortable for a split second as if he could read her thoughts. He coughed. "These artificial freaks aren't as resilient as real vampires, or maybe it's a particularly weak specimen. Regardless, it's degrading rather quickly, and we still need more information from it."
"Walter," she said in a low voice. "What are you getting at?"
He handed her a blood bag, though it differed from the blood delivered to her room and the blood discarded down the toilet every evening. It was warm, and the liquid inside was thicker and had large clots forming.
"We can't let it die just yet, but we can't risk an escape either."
"No!"
He frowned and gave her a stern look. "This is not a request, Miss Victoria. You are one of the few in this household capable of restraining him without risk of being turned into a ghoul. Whether you like it or not, this order was handed down directly from Sir Integra, and The Hellsing Organization will not house disobedient vampires."
She groaned, and Walter raised a brow expectantly as he waited for her answer. That same foreboding laugh erupted in the back of her mind once more. She felt like a scolded child.
"Do I make myself clear?"
