Witcher in Hellsing

I was awake for some time before I opened my eyes. Instead, I listened, using my newly enhanced hearing. The gunshots that had awakened me were quickly fading out. But it was obvious that one's doing the shooting were not the winners. The low moaning, shuffling steps, and the sickening sounds of ghouls settling in for a meal made that obvious.

Yes, I recognize that sound. I wish I didn't.

Satisfied that I was safe, for the moment anyway, I finally opened my eyes and rose from the wooden pallet I was lying on. The lack of light in the room was not a hinderance as I found a mirror and saw my new body for the first time.

Perhaps I should explain. In short, I've been isakied. I remember talking to some higher power and being sent here with a bunch of new skills and powers. I'm supposed to kill monsters, so I immediately chose to be a Witcher. With a bonus ability, of course. But in exchange, I don't remember anything about my former life. I remember a lot about the world I'm from, but not about myself. The other downside is that I wasn't given any information about the world I would be arriving at. I was told that I would have an established identity and some very good weapons and equipment. At least commensurate with the skills I've been granted.

Looking at my new body, I found myself pleased. I'm about 6 feet tall, and probably weigh in around 250 lbs. My features are very Germanic in origin, pale but tanned skin, dark brown hair with some silver along the temples, and a few days growth of beard. But the eyes would tell everyone that I was not normal. Even fully widened in the dark room, the pupils still looked like a football. The irises were a shade between lion's gold and orange.

Taking my attention away from my eyes, I turned attention to my new equipment. My clothing could be best described as classic biker. Ankle high boots, loose fitting leather pants, a dark tee shirt and a thick leather jacket. Using my ability to sense magic, I could see that all the leather was heavily reinforced by way of runic arrays sewn into the leather.

I could feel a harness under my jacket that was holding a pistol, and a pair of kukri knives. Inspecting the blades showed that one was plain steel, while the other was an alloy of steel and silver. Across my back was a bastard sword with the quillons swept up towards the tip. The blade was of a dark metal I can't name. The edges are uneven, like they have been formed by chipping the metal into shape. It gives the effect of looking like it's a stone blade. Along the spine are more runic sequences, blood red on one side, and silver on the other.

Next up, the guns. Under my left arm is a fairly standard colt 1911. The barrel looks a little longer than normal, but that's about it. Except or the runes I can feel under the grips. Is everything I now own enchanted? That's cool, I guess. My other pistol is in a holster on my right leg. And it's a beast.

The engravings on the slide proclaim it a Redeemer Mk 3, chambered for the .454 Caskill round. (Why does that name sound familiar?) It's probably 15 inches from muzzle to hammer. The magazine well is just in front of the trigger guard. The grip is very solid, and grooved for my fingers. The magazine is in front of the breach which is very unusual. As I cycle the slide, I see how it works. The round in the chamber is ejected upwards, while a claw pulls the next round out of the mag. When the slide reaches the end of its run, the new round is lifted into position for chambering. It seems complicated to me, but whatever.

A final check of my equipment reveals another knife…3 knives…5 knives. Jesus, I'm loaded heavy. One of the knives is a common K-bar style, while the others are designed for throwing. Two are steel, while the other two are coated in silver. One of each are slotted into leather bracers under the cuff of my jacket.

Ammunition for the Redeemer is carried on my waist belt, while the .45 ammo is in a mag holder under my right arm hanging from the shoulder harness. Also on my waist is a small box. Inside I found a supply of potions. Of course, the box is enchanted, but this time it is easy to tell what the runes are doing. I mean there is no way that fifty glass vials and about twenty small stone jars would be able to fit in a six-by-three-by-four-inch box.

My sword is carried on a baldric that loops over my right shoulder to my left hip, with the buckle at my shoulder. Below that are several slots for holding additional potions. Feeling the stoppers, I discover that there is a simple sign made of wax that indicates what potion it is.

Inside my jacket I find a small, leather-bound journal. There are several bookmark tails indicating different sections. The first is labeled notes, and already has a number of items listed, then crossed out. Things like inspect weapons, conduct inventory, and self-assessment are all crossed out. The only one that isn't is verify identity.

Reaching into my back pocket, I find my wallet. Inside, my driver's license gives me my new name. Apparently, I am now Thomas Harker. Ok. I remember reading Dracula. This seems like an appropriate name. I just hope it doesn't come with complications.

Looking back to my journal, I see that the verify identity entry has been crossed out and a new line has appeared. It says 'Stop lazing around and get to work!'. Seems a bit harsh, but oh well.

As I unlock the door, I can still hear about a dozen ghouls feasting. Cracking the door open enough to see out, I can just glimpse the back of the closest ghoul. Hmmm. The hallway is too narrow for the sword, and I'd rather not use all my ammo in the first fight. Kukri it is then. Drawing my silver knife, I quietly slip out the door and approach the ghoul. Despite the hard soles on my boots, I stay quiet enough that the first one is free.

Unfortunately, the severed head rolls into the next ghoul in line. Mindless they may be, but they still have some instincts. Catching sight of me, that ghoul manages about a half a moan before its head joins his dining partners. And that's enough. The remaining ghouls abandon their meals in favor of fresh meat. I'm screaming in my mind as my body runs on instinct. Hey, I'm new at this.

The next two down the line don't make it fully upright before they fall back down. Kicking one of the collection of fallen crowns into the next group of three doesn't do much to provide a distraction, but hey, worth a shot. That group falls fairly quickly. But needing to disarm some of them (literally) allowed the next two groups to arrive at the same time. Let's face it five on one isn't good odds for any mortal. Fortunately, the narrow hall worked to my advantage, so the odds never got worse than that.

Less than a minute later, I was standing among thirteen partially dismembered ghouls and ten or so bodies of what appear to be police officers in tactical gear. Oops, that one's starting to twitch. (Swish) That's better.

Are those gunshots?

It didn't take long to find the stairwell. All I had to do as follow the trail of bullet casings left behind as the police retreated down this storage hallway.

Why did they run down here? I mean, sure ghouls are scary. They are durable, tenacious, and insatiable, but they aren't the world's fastest predator by a long shot. And there were only about fifteen. It's not like we're asking about a whole horde. (More gunshots) Huh…. Maybe here are more here.

I finally make it up to a window. Looking out, it seems like the police had good reason to run to the basement. There must be a couple hundred ghouls swarming toward the gunshots. Then I see the shooters. There's only two. One is tall and kind of thin, dressed in a red coat over a black suit. A red hat with a ridiculously wide brim and orange sunglasses (at night?) completes his outfit. He's dual wielding a pair of pistols that make the Redeemer look well balanced.

His partner is armed much more sensibly. She (and its definitely she) has a large caliber rifle. I'm guessing .300 Winchester Magnum or similar. Every shot she takes puts down three to five ghouls in a row. Red's pistol is a one shot one kill from where I'm standing. Still, they will likely both be short of ammo soon. I hope they can run. Especially the rifle girl. Calf high combat boots and thigh high stockings may be alright, but a miniskirt that tight and a shirt that looks to pop open if she takes a deep breath do not look very fast to me. Maybe she just doesn't mind showing everyone her bits on the run. Shame? What's that?

With a chuckle and a shake of the head, I continue my climb. If there's this many ghouls here, that means there's a vampire making them. Most of the time it's kill the vamp, and the ghouls drop. Here's hoping Red and Rifle can keep everyone occupied.

The stairwell ends after another two floors. Unfortunately, the sounds of gunfire have ended, but my two erstwhile distractions are still in the fight. At least Rifle is. She's currently enjoying a round of fisticuffs, which she is apparently winning. Red has decided to take a break and is sitting on the hood of a police cruiser.

Entering the building proper, I find that the distraction was not as complete as I would have liked. Along the hall there's fifty or so ghouls turning my way. The good news is I get to try out my sword. The first ghoul is quite a surprise. Instead of merely bisecting its torso, there is a flash of flames. The ghoul is consumed in a heartbeat, then falls into a pile of smoking ash an embers. Suddenly fifty to one odds doesn't look so bad. Well, this looks like fun!

And it was, until I had to stop to put out a fire. Apparently undead are not the only thing my sword will light up. I nicked a painting on the wall and it went up like a torch. It didn't take long to put out using the Aqua sign.

While I was dealing with that small mishap, also learned something else about my sword. If you hold it with the red runes facing your palm, it's the world's best fire starter. If the silver runes are up, it apparently cancels any magic it touches, like, say, the dark magic that animates a corpse. It's more tiring to use, but probably safer for indoor use.

As I was finishing up with the welcoming party, the heavy double door at the end of the hall opened. Behind it were two vampires. Normally that would be a bit much for me, but my senses and instincts both agreed that they were weak. I'm talking about two steps above a ghoul weak. So, when one charged at me and the other fired a crossbow bolt at me (crossbow, seriously?) it was easily the coolest move I had made all night. Flipping my sword up and over to my left hand while twisting out of the way of the bolt, I drew the Redeemer and fired just as the charger lost his head to my sword. That was two more things learned. One, the silver side of my sword works just as well on baby vamps. And two the Redeemers recoil is not as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe the complicated reload mechanism eats up some of the force. Oh, and three, Redeemer's bullets make vamp heads explode. Literally. I'm not sure how that works, but it's cool.

By the way, how weak of a vamp does it take to get outrun by a crossbow bolt?

Entering the office was slightly more surreal than waking up was. First, this executive office was trashed. All the furniture was in pieces, piled up along the wall. Second, in the middle of the concrete floor (the carpeting was also in the pile- o-scrap) was a ritual circle, apparently drawn in blood. And poorly at that. The magical training, that I received when I arrived, can easily see at least a dozen errors in the runic arrays, as well as sections that are trying to draw on various conditions that are not present or are contradictory. Seriously, one section is trying to draw on a full moon, while another wants a new moon. Idiots.

And to top it off, here's the (presumably) boss vamp, standing in the middle of this fucked up ritual holding this slightly overweight lady like she's some human shield.

Of course, he's monologuing about how he's invincible and I should just let him go or something. To be honest I wasn't paying much attention. I mean I can smell the fear just rolling off this guy. Even the hostage looked like she would be rolling her eyes if she wasn't being held half a foot off the floor by her neck.

I swear, drinking blood must fry the brain. If I was in this guy's shoes, as soon as I had told my minion vamps to go attack, I'd be out the fucking window and running as fast as I could. I don't see any cordon or containment spells here.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand. This idiot is doing a good job of keeping his vitals behind the hostage as I prowled around the circle. Now I have him where I want him. If he runs now, he'll be heading down a confined corridor, rather than into the open. If he's smart enough to run that is. Also, Red and Rifle are down that way. Somehow, I'm sure that they're here to clean out the vamps themselves. But, they're late, so is up to me.

Making sure to keep the silver side of my sword up, I finally cross the boundary of the ritual diagram, being careful not to step on any of the lines. Not because I'm afraid of causing something to happen. I just don't want any blood on my boots. They're new.

Of course, boss vamp keeps prattling on, at least until one of my silver throwing knives nearly embeds itself in his eye. As I expected, rather than use his shield to block the knife, he ducks back behind her. And in that moment, I lunge. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a good thrust directly at him, so I needed to spill a little of the hostage's blood. Sorry, lady.

Anyway, with the silver side active, my thrust scored a nice hit into boss vamp's side, just above his hip. His squeal was much more impressive than a pig getting branded he dropped the lady, and tried to run while holding his side together. Quite literally in fact as the area around the wound was quickly turning to ash. He made it about two thirds of the way down the corridor before two things stopped him. First was Red stepping out of the stairwell. Boss vamp apparently recognized him and tried to skid to a halt. The other thing that stopped him was his leg falling off as the area affected by the wound continued to spread.

As boss vamp continued to dissolve, I was trying to help hostage lady stop the bleeding. It was only a cut through some of her excess fat, but it was still painful. At least I had managed to get my sword out of her before she was dropped. Did you know that using duct tape for a bandage is not recommended, but it works in a pinch.

Eventually, Red and Rifle got bored of watching the end of boss, or there was nothing left to watch, and they came over.

"Um, excuse me. But were you the one who took care of all the ghouls up here?" Rifle asked as she approached us. Wow, I have never heard such a chipper vampire before. Okay, I've only heard one other vampire besides her, but really. She sounds like she belongs on a high school cheerleading squad, not fist fighting dozens of ghouls.

"Yes," I said.

"No," hostage lady said at the same time. I have to say, she was taking the whole 'kidnapped by vampire-used as a shield-stabbed through the side' thing really well. Or maybe it was the Axii sign I used to get her mind off the pain. Whichever it was, at least she wasn't screaming or in shock. Besides, the look in her eye made me think she was trying to fluster the young vamp.

And she was young, two to three years old (dead maybe?) max. Maybe that's why she was still so perky. But even if she was young, she was also powerful. Even barehanded, she could have wiped the floor with boss vamp and his minions at the same time. Honestly, if it came down to a fight between the two of us, I'd need every dirty trick in the book and a great escape plan just to survive. I doubt even the silver side of my sword would do enough damage to put her down for long.

And if Rifle was powerful, then Red was POWERFUL! So powerful it was making my magic hurt just being near him. I couldn't guess at his age, but if I was ever offered a contract to hunt him, I'd turn it down flat. Money's no good if your dead. But the thing that intrigued me the most was that they were both leashed, and bound.

I would like to meet the being strong enough to hold that leash. Either their power is greater than red's (shudder) or they hold enough of his respect for him to be willing to remain on his lead. Either way, definitely not someone to mess with.

So, back to Rifle girl. The dual answer did cause her a moments confusion.

"Oh, I meant the gentleman with the sword." She explained.

"Then next time please remember to identify whom you're interested in speaking to." Yep, Hostage lady was trying to get a rise. Interesting lady. And Red was enjoying the show. At least his suppressed laughter suggested that he did.

"Oh, of course. Then mister…. I'm sorry, I don't actually know your name."

"Thomas Harker, miss?"

"Seras, Seras Victoria. I'm a special officer for the Hellsing organization."

"So, I take it that 'special officer' means vampire and this 'Hellsing organization' sent you her to clean out the ghoul horde and the three vamps that spawned them?"

"Oh, um…yes? I guess you could put it that way."

"Good. Then I assume you have medics nearby or at least transportation that can take Mrs..."

"Penny, or Penelope Baker if we're being formal."

"That can take Penny here to get the hole in her side sewn up."

"Oh! Of course," Rifle - er Seras - immediately started talking about support coming or something. I kinda lost interest and went to pick up my knife.

Unfortunately, Red had gotten to it first. He was amusedly spinning it on its point as he watched me approach.

"Harker, is it?" was Red's opening gambit. Even for a vampire, he had a smug look in his eye ass he passed me back my blade. "My master will be most interested to hear of your presence."

Great, there are complications relating to my new name. Here's hoping its's not too bad.

"And a Witcher, a well. I had thought I had destroyed the last of your breed."

Not good. Red knows of Witchers, and has apparently killed them off before I arrived. I hope he doesn't want to keep them - me - extinct.

I just shrug and begin walking back down the hall, while keeping my emotions in check. As the song says 'If you're going through hell, keep on going. You might get out before the devil knows you're there.' No so likely in my case, as the devil's lieutenant matched me stride for stride.

Eventually we arrived at the parking lot where Seras and Red had their fun. Only now, it was swarming with soldiers cleaning up the aftermath. Personally, I'd have just piled the remains and torched them, but these troops were methodically bagging and tagging them. Maybe they were going to identify them for their families. I kindly informed one squad leader of the thirty or so bodies I had left in the basement. Red, meanwhile, had gone on to talk to the leader of these troops.

It was easy to identify the leader. She was between five foot six and five eight. Long platinum blond hair was held in a simple pony tail. She was impeccably dressed in a black suit (though more modern and feminine) with a light blue ascot held by a silver crucifix. Under her gray trench coat, I could see the telltale signs of concealed weapons, as well as a not so hidden sword.

While Red was giving his report, and Seras was seeing Mrs. Baker to their medic, I found my ride. Apparently, the god who sent me here decided that motorcycles were the modern equivalent of horses. Parked at the back of the lot (thankfully out of the line of fire from Red and Seras) was an older Honda Shadow. In the dim light of a not yet broken dawn, the custom paint job on the fuel tank appeared black, but I could see the thunder clouds and lightning that framed the totem of the Griffin School. While old, it was obviously well cared for. A set of saddle bags was hung over the rear fender, and a half height helmet that matched the paintwork was hanging from the handle bars.

As I was checking he (expanded) saddle bags, Red's boss approached. I was amazed at how she could pull off intimidating and well-mannered aristocrat at the same time.

"What brings you here, Mr. Harker?" She demanded, before putting her cigar back into her mouth. If she's the one holding the Hellsing vamp's leash, I can see why they stay. This is a worthy woman to follow.

"Short answer, god." Okay, she is intimidating and all but I'm finding that I'm something of a smart ass.

"Perhaps a longer answer is in order." No humor found here. Good to know.

"I don't actually have much of a longer answer. I woke up in the basement here maybe ten minutes before your two special officers started their ghoul hunt. Other than that, I'm pulling blanks." Sure, I could try and explain the whole 'from another world' thing, but who would believe it. "Since then, I've been killing ghouls and vamps, and learning what I can do."

"You killed the vampires? Alone?"

"It wasn't that hard. I had the edge in equipment, instinct, and… well… they were idiots. The first two had no concept of tactics and were barely strong enough to qualify as vamps. And the third was cowering behind a human shield. Not much of a threat there. All in all, easy money. Or it would have been, if I was here on contract. Overall, I'm in the red for tonight."

She seemed to take her time thinking through my words. My guess is that she was wondering if an amnesiac monster hunter was an asset, a liability, or a threat. Not that I blamed her. I was a wild card, even to myself.

Eventually, her attention retuned to me. "You said if you were under contract. Are you available at the moment?"

That's a pretty good question. I pulled out my magic journal and turned to the section labeled contracts. There was one contract listed, but it dealt with the particulars of my arrival in this world. Interesting, but not really relevant at the moment. "I seem to be free for now."

"Then, I have a proposition. Great Britain is under siege from a flood of artificial freak vampires. Hellsing is charged with protecting England, its church, and its people from any and all supernatural threats. In the past, we could call on the Harker clan for aid, but they died out sometime in the early sixties. Now, you may not be related to our fallen allies, but you have the skills that could be very beneficial to us. I would like to hire you, if not as a full member, then as an independent contractor, until this freak chip situation is handled."

This sounded pretty good to me. Hooking up with Hellsing would mean training; something I needed anyway. I'm pretty much reverse learning at this point. Think about it. Normally, you learn how to do something, then practice it until it becomes instinct. Now I have the instincts, but I need to practice until I know what I'm doing. Still, no reason not to get the best deal I can from this.

"Four thousand a week, room and board, training ammunition, and replacement of any ammo or weapons expended on mission. Oh, and a .454 Caskill round to replace the one I spent night."

"Done." Well, that was easy. I thought I'd have to haggle a little. She must be harder up than I thought. That reminds me…

"Pleasure to be working with you Ms…" a began while holding my hand out.

She looks at my hand like its dirty, but eventually takes it. "I am Sir Integra Fairbrooks Wingate Hellsing."

"A pleasure, Sir Hellsing." I learned two, no three things during that handshake. First, Sir Hellsing's handshake reinforced the perception I already had of her. Firm and confident. Second, do not call her Ms. or Dame, even if the latter was technically the correct address. And finally, she was definitely the one holding the leash of Red. I could feel the binding between the two of them and I still didn't blame him for staying.

Later that morning, I arrived at the Hellsing Organization's headquarters. I had been expecting a modern facility, perhaps with some training fields. Maybe, something like a high school campus. Instead, it was a traditional English manor. Set on several dozen acres of manicured grounds, the Hellsing manor was a massive four storied, multi-winged structure with modern additions added to the rear which housed the garages and other military facilities.

After parking my bike in an open corner of the garage I was led to Sir Integra's office by an old English butler named Walter. He a I fairly charming conversationalist, pointing out various facilities, items of interest, and important rules and restricted areas.

Eventually we arrived near the doors to the office. When I approached to knock, overheard some of the discussion being held inside.

"You disagree?" Sir Integra's tone as one that expected disagreement.

"Not in the least, my master." Red's smooth voice replied.

"Really Alucard?"

"Of course. Whether he is a Harker or not is of no difference to me. However, he is a Witcher. By default, that means his potential is at least as high as Walter's."

"Truly?"

"Indeed, master. Witchers were designed to be the finest monster hunters the world has ever seen. It is without doubt that they were responsible for the rise of organized civilization in the northern Mediterranean Sea region."

"I didn't think you were that old, count."

There was a chuckle here. "I'm not. But so much has changed, that the stories of my youth have passed beyond myth and legend to true loss. Only the oldest will now remember them, and most will not be fond of their recollections. If you wish to know more, I suggest talking to him."

"He claimed amnesia. Do you think he's lying."

"Unlikely. Memory loss is a common symptom of certain banishing rituals. And he stank of one."

"Banishment ritual? Can we find where he came from?"

"Or when. And no. Too much time has passed to trace the spell."

"But his motorcycle…"

Red - Alucard broke in here. "When I was young, I threw a Witcher across a river. The water was deep and fast, with no bridge or ford for twenty miles upstream or down. When I landed after flying across, I found the Witcher mounting his horse to flee. The same horse I had watched him dismount back over the river not ten minutes earlier. If the stories are true, his ride may have been drawn along with him. Or it came when needed."

Well, that was interesting to hear. Especially that Red agreed with my hiring. Hopefully that means he won't be killing me in my sleep anytime soon. I'm still going to be warding my room though. You know, just in case.

Good to know that my background as a Witcher has some history to fall back on. I hope my personal background has some as well.

After a knock and a curt "come" I entered the massive, and mostly empty, office. Most of the meeting as routine paperwork to set up my pay, insurance, duties, etc. The only bombshell was Alucard requesting - yes requesting- that I spend some time training his 'Police Girl'. I think he meant Seras. I'm not sure why, and Red wasn't forthcoming. Integra looked just as surprised as me but just nodded her assent.

All told, it was a very tiring arrival day in my new life at the Hellsing organization.