"Where are you, my lovely little niece?" A regal voice echoed through the dark and dank hallway illuminated only by the lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. "My pretty niece. My budding… little… fraulein." The voice came from an older gentleman whose face was twisted into a hideous grin under his brown mustache. His blue eyes blazed with fury and determination to hunt down his niece. The two men standing a little more than a full meter behind him wore black suits and sunglasses. These two men took their orders from Sir Richard and they were prepared to kill for their superior. Richard, along with his men, were armed with pistols. What they didn't know is that the three soon to be murderers were being watched.
The young Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing hid in the air ducts watching her uncle and his cronies march through the hallway as her uncle continued to rant while brandishing his gun. "Oh my poor little lost Integra. I wish I could help you understand. Twenty years. Twenty long years of waiting for my brother, your father, to die and mere hours before his death he chooses you to succeed him as head of the family. This insult against me I cannot accept! I will NEVER accept! Such an unforgivable act of betrayal!" His hand, that was resting above the gun, suddenly gripped the slide and cocked the gun. "HELLSING IS MINE!"
Upon his disappearance into the darkness and his voice fading away, Integra, who was no more than 12 years old, slowly made her way towards the lowest floor of the Hellsing estate. She couldn't believe that this was happening. She had just lost her father, but she was prepared for that. What she wasn't prepared for was her Uncle to attempt to have her killed. She was desperate and scared, but she tried her best to be as silent as possible given the situation. Crawling through an air duct obviously is not the most silent method of escaping your deranged uncle.
She ran in the direction of her supposed chance at rescue as per her dead father's instructions. "Integra." His raspy voice echoed in her memories, "If the time should ever come, when all other hope is lost, if you find yourself surrounded with your enemies closing in, go to the last cell of the deepest dungeon of the estate. There lies the instrument of your salvation."
Minutes felt like hours crawling by as she sprinted to the cell's metal door in the lower dungeons. She tried with all her might to pull the door until it finally came free. Her blue eyes behind round spectacles searched the room until she landed on what looked like a person sitting up against the wall. Upon closer inspection she noticed the hunched over figure was wearing a black straitjacket and his face was wrinkled and slowly rotting, indicating the person was deceased. One distinguishable feature of the dead body in front of her was its hideous grin standing out behind its long white hair still clinging to its head. Integra's fear was replaced with confusion and frustration. How could a corpse be her salvation? Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a sudden heat approach her and her arm stung when a metal bullet pierced her flesh. Her blood sprayed backwards onto the corpse's face.
"Uncle." Integra said. She was still wincing in pain, clutching her arm in a futile attempt to ease the pain.
"Something on your mind, my little fraulein?" Richard asked, an insane grin plastered on his face.
"Are you really so desperate to claim the family title that you'd actually be willing to…?"
"What an astute observation Integra."
With that, Integra's power-hungry uncle put the muzzle of the gun to the young girl's forehead. She tried to look up at him but could see the serious intent to kill. She couldn't look anymore and simply squeezed her eyes tight, preparing for the worst. What neither of them knew was that behind her the corpse's tongue had moved and was starting to lap up the blood on its face. It had then ceased its stillness and licked the puddles of blood in front of it. Its red tongue stained with blood ran along the stone floors, not caring about the gravel also collecting on it, only the crimson blood.
The dead body looked up to the three men terrorizing the young girl with its red eyes glaring with sadism and cruelty. When the wrinkles on its skin slowly smoothed out and it turned a ghostly white the figure was in the form of a man. His white hair turned pitch black and it developed a life of its own when a breeze blew through the dark cell. He eventually tore his arms free of his black straitjacket, liberating his gloved hands. On the back of the white gloves was an illuminated red pentagram. The one thing that remained the same on the once dead man's face was that hideous grin.
It had been several years since he had joined the Hellsing organization and he had been asleep for a long time. Johan Gruber's mind strayed to the past several decades as he walked his way through the London sewer tunnels. It was a dark and cold atmosphere that stretched on to an almost never-ending darkness. Apart from the occasional graffiti, the rounded walls, floor and ceiling had a sickening repetitiveness that was only amplified by the scent of urine, feces, dead rodents and even blood. Johan wasn't concerned, though. It wasn't his blood. Against his better judgment Johan reluctantly inhaled more of the scent to try and pick up more of the smell of blood. There was nothing he could do to stop the other foul sewer odors from entering his nostrils, though he tried his best not to sneeze them out compulsively. While following his enhanced senses, Johan eventually came across his target. Rather, a small clue leading to his target.
The graffiti on the walls ceased being colorful spray paint praising Satan or anarchy and became a sickening brown. One could think that someone had taken feces and spread it on the walls to make the words, "I am a god" and "I can't die." That was until they had the bravery to take in the scent of the words painted on the walls and ceiling. The scent of iron that Johan was all too familiar with, radiated off of the words. "Not much originality." Johan thought to himself as he continued his trek forward. His mind wandered and he thought, "Why did I have to get the assignment in the sewer?" His thoughts were interrupted by whimpering. It was very quiet and pathetic whimpering. The kind of whimpering you'd expect from a scared child who had just seen a monster crawl out of their closet. He followed the sound to the end of the sewer where there was a young girl who was no more than seven years old. She was curled up in a dark corner with tears streaming down her blood-stained face. She reacted out of fear when she saw Johan. Her arms and legs were bound by a dirty, blood stained cloth-like material and her screams were muffled by a gag around her mouth.
"You look like you're a little lost." He said emotionlessly.
"…"
"Poor taste?"
A low growl echoed through the sewer and was then followed by a loud roar. Johan turned around and his eyes darted back and forth until they landed on a shadowy figure. It started crawling towards them into what little light there was from the outside. Johan's vision was enhanced by the darkness of the sewer. A horrid smell radiated off of the figure. Johan knew this was his target. The file he was given was correct in regard to his description. What made this monster stand out was the clown outfit it chose to wear. The bright yellow and red costume was stained brown from the sewage and the dried blood, the white gloves on its hands were ripped and torn at the fingers where grey claws were growing outwards that were also stained with blood. The white, blue and red makeup wasn't painted on, instead it was almost roughly smeared on with no sense of pattern or care. The dark brown mess around its drooling mouth was dried blood that was never cleaned off. The glowing white fangs in its lips gave it a hungry look and it was clear that the vampiric clown desired more blood.
"You should have turned away!" These words escaped from its drooling mouth in a scratchy voice. The vampiric clown looked into Johan's eyes as best it could but with one going off in another direction that proved difficult for it. "This is my circus!"
"Well, your circus smells like shit." Johan said, staring at the clown with confusion. It had clearly lost its mind a long time ago. This confused the beast a great deal. People would normally run and scream at the sight of him. He enjoyed the fear he invoked in children and adults alike. Aside from his newfound strength, speed and senses that came with being a vampire, the fear made him feel powerful. Johan made a mental note that this delusion of power the clown had was what ultimately made him lose his mind.
"Stop looking at me like that!" The clown demanded.
"Like what?"
"Like you're not scared of me!"
"The only thing scary about you is that you live in a sewer. I'm probably going to have to burn these clothes." Johan said.
"You're in my domain! You are food here!" The clown shouted so its voice echoed throughout the tunnels its rotten husk resided in.
"Yeah, sure Pennywise. Listen, I'm not a very good shot but this here gun uses really big bullets that explode on impact." Johan said while lifting the shotgun over his head, so it was no longer strapped over his shoulder.
"Guns can't hurt me!" The clown hissed through its yellow and brown fangs.
"Care to test that theory?" Johan asked while taking aim. The clown had a visible grin as it tried to leap forward only for a loud bang to echo throughout the sewers. It turned its head when it saw its arm had gone numb. Due to its insanity, it took a moment before the wound registered in its fractured brain. Its clawed arm had gone from by its side to floating in the water behind it in a quickly growing crimson red cloud. The stump where the striped sleeve used to be sprayed thick crimson liquid that carried the familiar scent of iron.
"I guess you're Georgie now." Johan said with an abnormally cold exterior. The child behind him had been watching the whole time. Her teary eyes widened in fear at the traumatic sight.
The clown let out a horrific scream that echoed throughout the dark and cold sewer. The girl let out a scream of terror which was muffled behind her gag.
"Ok, fine. I get it. Terrible taste." He said massaging his temples after putting the strap of the gun on his right shoulder.
The clown leaped toward Johan making animalistic grunts. Anger overtook the pain. Crimson liquid streamed out behind it and stained the already dirty water, turning it a dark scarlet.
Johan raised his shotgun again calmly, almost as if a man-eating clown wasn't charging towards him like an enraged rhinoceros. It seems he took too long because the clown backhanded him across the sewer and his body smacked against the graffiti-labeled bricks. He slid onto the dirty ground with a loud thump.
He struggled to stand as the clown did its best to charge his enemy with only one arm. He forced himself onto his feet, grabbing the shotgun off the floor and decided not to waste any more time.
He leapt up onto his feet, his Converse slapping onto the ground loudly. The thinness of the soles made the bottoms of his feet sting a little. He had no time to think about that as he aimed the firearm at his opponent and squeezed the trigger. The loud boom resonated in the hollow passageway again as the steel bullet pierced through the clown's skull. Blood, brain and fragments of bones flew into the water and onto the cold ground. The clown's raspy battle cry was cut off when its head split open and its second life ended. No more would it feast on children.
Johan stared down at his ruined hooded sweatshirt, his jumper as his colleagues called it, and said aloud, "Yeah, I'm definitely going to have to burn these clothes."
His bright red eyes strayed over to the girl who was still bound and gagged. The expression on her face told him that therapy would hardly be a helpful option. Who would believe that she was abducted by a vampire and saved by another? "Umm…" was the only noise Johan could make. He never knew what to say to survivors. "…Sorry you had to see all that." He said.
The young girl's eyes teared up and she screamed through the gag. He knew that he should probably take that off or else her breathing would be restricted.
"Alright. Listen, I need you to be brave for me okay?" Johan said to the girl, "I'm going to take the gag off of your mouth. I need you to stop screaming… please?"
She breathed quickly, trying to keep her emotions under control. It was very hard for her considering the trauma she just endured. When it seemed that she was quiet enough, Johan pulled the cloth down from her mouth and she took in the foul-smelling air desperately.
"I'm getting you out of here." Johan said to the scared child after ripping apart the cloth keeping the child's body bound, letting it fall around her feet. She was wearing a uniform from the schoolhouse three kilometers away. "The police are outside and they can get you home."
He scooped the girl up with one arm while holding onto the shotgun rather than strapping it over his shoulder. He imagined she wouldn't want to see the weapon after what she'd been through.
The police had been watching the hole that lead to the sewer. They heard a commotion and several loud gun shots but were not permitted to make a move. All they could do was stare desperately; they didn't want a child to die on their watch. They were under orders from a member of parliament. One Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing let her agent handle this. They did not expect the teenager wielding a shotgun to come out alive, especially after the explanation several refused to believe. None of them wanted to lose their jobs though, so they humored her.
Their faces became a mixture of shock and relief that the boy had climbed out with the girl alive and unharmed. Not physically anyway.
"It's done." Johan said as he supported the girl still clinging onto him. "Someone take her home."
A female officer rushed over and whisked her away and Johan finally placed the shotgun strap over his shoulder. His face remained eerily calm and collected. It was as if the horrors below had been all but erased from his mind. The vampire was desensitized after dealing with these sorts of things for over 50 years.
"I wouldn't go down there for a couple days." Johan said as he wandered off.
"Wait. Where are you going?" The police sergeant demanded.
"I'm going home. I need to wash." Johan said. "I reek."
"I still need to question you."
"I did what I came to do. You have your orders and I have mine. Sir Hellsing should have informed you that I can't stay for long."
His phone rang obnoxiously loud in his pocket and he dug around to fish it out. He held up a finger to the sergeant and flipped the cell phone open.
"Yes?"
"Johan. This is Hellsing Base."
"Sir Hellsing. What a pleasant surprise. If you're calling about the vampire, it's taken care of. By the way, I'll quit if you send me into another sewer."
"This is no time for jokes, Johan. I have some important information for you. It's about Alucard."
"What about him?"
"He's recently transformed another human into a vampire."
Johan said nothing. He waited for a few seconds to let this information about his teacher sink in, "I see. That is out of character for him, but what does that have to do with me?"
"Alucard has specifically requested your assistance with this matter."
"Wait a minute. How come Alucard gets to make requests and I don't?"
"Don't take that tone with me, Johan. You will return immediately, without question. And I want you on your way back now."
"I better find something to change into first." He said, but the sergeant stopped him.
"Not so fast, bloke. I still need a statement about what the hell went on down there."
"Okay," Johan said, "You ever see that scene from Pulp Fiction where Ving Rhames shot the guy in the dick? It kind of looks like that down there."
With that he walked away, trailing blood and feces from the soles of his shoes.