Seras stared out into the distance at the retreating figure of the female vampire. The fledgling had taken the opportunity to escape as her boyfriend had been ruthlessly slaughtered by their better. Johan stood behind her with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Take the shot already." Johan said, "Don't let her get away."
"B-But sir." Seras said, "She's already five… no… six hundred meters away."
"It helps to imagine a third eye on your forehead." Johan said, "Aim from there. Just make sure that you pierce the heart. If you shoot like a human than you're going to miss like a human. Fortunately, your gun is powerful enough so the bullet will rip right through her body."
"But it's such a big gun and I don't have a scope." Seras said.
The Nr.3 Accuracy International Arctic Warfare Magnum wavered slightly in Seras' grip, even though to her it wasn't all that heavy. It was purely her nerves. What if she messed something up? What if she missed? Then her master and Johan would be very angry with her. Maybe enough to kill her again. Only this time, they would make sure she stayed dead.
"You don't need one." Johan responded calmly, "Now stop talking, focus and kill her."
Silence consumed all and Seras focused. Her bright blue eyes suddenly switched to a glowing red as her vision seemed to reach out farther than any sniper's scope could, and it felt like it could go even farther. The silence was interrupted by the loud bang of the gun and the bullet flew out. Once it reached its target it mercilessly pierced Jessica's back and it popped her chest open like a watermelon upon exiting.
Seras was taken aback as her eyes returned to normal as quickly as her powers made their presence known. Staring straight ahead in shock and awe, she started to collect her thoughts and the reality of this crazy and unbelievable situation.
"It's such a big gun, yet I hardly felt any recoil at all." She thought, "It's darker out but I can see more clearly than in daylight."
"Good shooting, police girl." Alucard said, without actually opening his mouth. He had delivered this message to Seras only, but Johan knew from seeing her eyes growing wider, that she had heard a telepathic voice from their master.
"It's all too fast." Seras said, looking down at her hand, "What on earth am I becoming?"
Johan just stared at Seras with an emotionless expression, but felt a pit in his stomach start to form. It was a feeling of pity. He empathized with Seras' confusion as he had been in the exact same position when he was first transformed by Alucard. It was not a moment that he liked to remember and until someone was lucky enough to be able to kill her, Seras would have a long and painful "unlife" as a vampire as she battled a hellish reluctance to give up her humanity.
His red eyes fell to the tiled roof that he was standing on as he reflected on everything he had witnessed, but his train of thought was interrupted by his mentor's familiar voice.
"Not yet." Alucard said, "The night has only just begun… and there's a long road ahead of you… Both of you."
"I can already tell that this is not going to be fun." Johan said with a heavy sigh.
Integra's office was illuminated only by the screen of her computer. The lenses of her glasses shone brightly while the smoke from her cigar further distorted her features. But her face was wrinkled in concentration.
"Too many." She said to herself, "Far too many."
The disturbing images she was staring at were of abnormally violent crime scenes. Men, women, and children all ripped apart. Even dogs and cats weren't spared the sadism and evil of these beings. Pointless, cheap, and pathetic acts of barbarism. No rhyme or reason to this directionless cruelty.
"No direction." Integra took the cigar from her mouth and large puffs of smoke were conjured with a single breath. "Mindless killing. I can only use the word foolish to describe these things."
Scotland Yard could only focus on the brutal, irredeemable, and unsolved killings, while keeping the true cause of these crimes under wraps by order of the British government. They depended on the Hellsing Organization to resolve this quickly. But to be truthful, Sir Integra Hellsing, even with all her knowledge and experience, was confused. An unusual number of vampires have been spawned. Too many to have been considered natural. Something was going on.
Someone was making these monsters.
But who?
And for what purpose?
In a suburb of Rome rested a Catholic orphanage with a population of roughly 300, which continued to dwindle as children were adopted, but then grew as more were born and abandoned. They were given a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs and food in their mouths, with the only rule being to follow the holy word of God and devote themselves to Christ and His Holiness above all else.
"Now both o' ye stop that!" Father Alexander Anderson yelled at two young boys in front of him. His accent and deep voice enough to make them freeze in fear. They could not identify whether he was Irish, Scottish or even Welsh with that accent, but he could make it sound terrifying if he had to. "There's no fighting between friends. How do ye expect to go to heaven actin' like that? The Lord trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth."
"S-Sorry Father." The two boys said, their necks craning painfully to look up at Father Anderson's towering figure. His arms were crossed over his chest and his round glasses reflected the sunlight brightly, thus hiding his eyes. They knew that Father Anderson never resorted to violence when disciplining the children, but he had threatened to before and that was more than enough to scare them.
Father Alexander Anderson had short, spiky silver hair, green eyes, tanned skin from several years working and training in Italy, a defined squared jaw, and light stubble. On his right cheek was a large, wedge-shaped scar. He dressed in holy clergical garb and on his hands were the white gloves he had never been seen without. Written crudely on the backs of the white gloves were the words "Christ in Heaven" on the right and "Speaks with Dead" on the left.
His stern face relaxed after a few seconds before breaking out in a friendly smile, putting the frightened children at ease.
"Listen, violence is never the answer." Anderson calmly lectured, "Except when used against heathens and monsters. Understand?"
"Yes father." Replied both boys in unison with small sighs of relief.
Father Anderson looked up to see a thin, pale man in holy garb walking up to him. His white skin seemed to be stretched tightly over his bones, though a few very visible wrinkles, his white hair, tired sunken eyes, and silver mustache were good indicators of his age. The circular bifocals rested on his nose and magnified his cold eyes. Those eyes told the story of a desensitized veteran who had seen his fair share of violence and death. Some by his hand and some by the hands of others. Now he worked as the right hand of the head of the Iscariot Organization. However, despite not having to fight for a good long while, that did not make him any less ruthless, especially towards those that strayed from the path of Christ. This was Father Renaldo.
Anderson looked at the old priest with a serious expression. If he was there, he was there for important business.
"Alright, I want both of ye to go straight to yer rooms." Anderson told the boys, who ran off, thankful they weren't punished.
As soon as the boys were out of earshot, Anderson turned to Father Renaldo.
"To wha' do I owe this visit?" Anderson said, placing his left hand on his right shoulder. He jerked his head to the left and a loud crack erupted. "Wha' appened?"
"Lately there have been some strange occurrences." Renaldo began, "Particularly in Great Britain. Vampires."
"And this is our problem?" Anderson asked.
"They present themselves with great frequency. Far too great to be pure coincidence." Renaldo explained.
"This is a good thing, isn't it?" Anderson asked with a shrug. "If the Protestant heretics are ge'ing killed off, then why should we bother?"
"That is not all, Anderson." Renaldo said, "Hellsing is on the move."
"They are nothin' but amateurs." Anderson said again, "Hellsing is practically a kindergarten compared to us. The Catholics, the Vatican and Iscariot. We've been dealing with these vampires before Hellsing even existed. So, what exactly is the problem? If the vampires wan' to feast upon the English, surely the English can handle it."
"I would be inclined to agree," Renaldo continued, "if it were only in England. There is a small town in Northern Ireland called Patrick. Already the Protestant Knights have been deployed. We are not the type to back down when presented with a challenge. Anderson, these are Catholic lands that they tread upon. We are sending you to Patrick to dispatch the vampire."
"And if I encounter the Hellsing agents?" Anderson asked, his lips curving and spreading apart into a wide toothy grin.
"We are the only ones to represent the Almighty God's will on Earth." Renaldo said, "Therefore, we must maintain our honor and not allow them to taint these Catholic lands with their heresy."
Anderson's green eyes were blocked by his now glowing lenses, but they demonstrated sadism and madness. He maintained his wide smile as he answered with a prayer. "If any man who love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be cursed in the eyes of our Lord. God save ye from yer fate. AMEN."
It had been a long time since Alexander Anderson had been dispatched to a fight.
He was going to love every minute of it.
Ghouls were mercilessly slaughtered by Alucard and Johan, left and right. Bullets, brains and blood went flying through the air and spattered on the floor, walls and even the ceiling. Seras was waiting outside, her chin resting in the palms of her hands, until she was startled by a voice that seemed to only be in her head.
"Police girl. Your turn."
Now fully alert, she shouldered her weapon and launched herself through the door. Rolling forward onto her shoulder, she positioned herself to take aim at the approaching ghouls. Upon seeing them her heart felt heavy with sympathy, but she knew she couldn't let that get to her. Not now.
'They're not alive.' She told herself, 'They might as well be zombie puppets. They're just dolls.'
Once they were in her sights, she squeezed the trigger and a loud boom echoed in the tight and claustrophobic halls. The poor ghoul's lower jaw exploded, and its head fell to the ground with a grotesque splat.
Another bullet soared through the air and pierced a ghoul's shoulder, its arm limply dangling as a cavalcade of groans filled Seras' ears. It tormented her, but she couldn't let pity get to her. She had to focus.
Johan joined in the carnage and stayed behind Seras firing rounds of his own. Noticing several groans of agony, he looked down to see a ghoul, with everything from the waist down blown off, grabbing at his ankle. He cocked his shotgun and blew the poor soul's head off. Behind him was the towering figure of Alucard, a pleased grin spread across his face at the carnage.
"Police girl." Alucard said, "When you aim, be sure to target the heart or the head. These people didn't become ghouls by choice. There's no way to revert them back to their human form. The best thing for them is to be put out of their misery."
A lead bullet soared through the air and split a ghoul's skull in half. Seras was rapidly improving at shooting. All her experience as a police officer had helped along with her enhanced vampire senses and reflexes. Johan took notice of her increased dexterity, and he knew from experience that it meant only one thing that her humanity was decreasing. Alucard took notice of this as well, his grin never leaving his face. He relished Seras' increasing detachment from her former humanity and the violent scene unfolding before him. He would only enjoy it more if he were the one blowing these creatures' heads apart.
Seras spent the magazine of her gun and quickly ejected it. The empty magazine fell to the bloody wood floor to be forgotten about and the police girl pulled out a new one from one of her many pockets. After slamming it home and loading the gun, she turned to look at both Johan and Alucard.
Something about her was different. Her blue eyes had changed color to a bright red, but that was not the only change about her. On her face was an uncharacteristic smirk. Even the way she spoke was different, "Siiir…. Yessir my master." Her smile spread out wider with each passing second and with each ghoul she killed. Her fanged smile grew so wide that it started to resemble Alucard's. She had lost herself in a state of blood drunkenness. She wasn't even firing her gun to take out the enemies anymore. She sprinted forward to a ghoul that was once a middle-aged man and slammed the butt of her gun into his jaw. The walking corpse was knocked off his feet from the power of the blow. His head struck the struck the floor with a loud thump. Before anybody could even think, Seras' boot rammed into the ghoul's head. The ghoul let out a pitiful and agonizing groan of hunger and pain as Seras applied more pressure until the skull exploded with a loud, wet pop. Blood, brain matter and bone shards flew and up onto Seras' clothes and still smiling face.
For reasons he couldn't explain, Johan felt his heart sink at the sight of Seras. He maintained an emotionless expression, but he felt quite melancholy. Even though his face didn't show it, his solemness was not lost on his mentor.
"Why so glum?" Alucard asked him with amusement in his voice, his eyes never leaving Seras, "She's starting to get what it means to be a vampire. You were the same way if you recall."
"That's the problem." Johan grumbled as he watched Seras raise her bloody glove to face.
Alucard's smile spread larger and Johan's feeling of hopelessness grew. Seras breathed heavily as the scent of the blood filled her nostrils. It was intoxicating. Moreso than she thought it would be. She had seen blood as something so invigorating before. Something in the back of her mind, a feeling that she couldn't describe, told her to ingest the blood. At first it sounded disgusting to her, but the more she thought about it the more she found it harder to resist the temptation. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth and towards her blood-stained glove. Her tongue was only centimeters away from gliding across the tempting liquid until she felt something pierce her back.
She was going to brush it off until she noticed that a large bayonet was piercing through her chest. Before she could register what had happened, she felt the same stinging sensation as many more blades thrust through her abdomen, each blade pointing in random directions and each one of them smeared in her own blood.
Johan and Alucard's eyes widened in surprise as Seras' body fell limply to the floor. As soon as they got a good look at the blades protruding from their comrade, the vampires heard the flutter of what sounded like the pages of a book rapidly being turned by the wind. Each of them turned to see pages with holy text printed on them flying through the hallway and being tacked onto the wall by an unseen force.
"What the hell…?" was all Johan could say. He was still trying to process everything and was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps ominously approaching.
Alucard and Johan turned their heads to where the footsteps were coming from around the corner. The dark menacing figure revealed itself slowly at the end of the hallway; the only discernable feature was the moonlight reflecting off of the person's glasses giving them the appearance of two floating white circles where its eyes should be. In his hands were the same kind of bayonets that had stabbed through Seras. Like his glasses, the blades shone brightly. A sinister chuckle could be heard from the figure before it started speaking.
"We are the servants o' God and the messengers o' his justice. We are the instruments o' his divine wrath on Earth. We are called upon tah cleanse his kingdom: bringing his ash from the flesh o' thine enemies."
As he spoke, he rose his arms from his sides, and he crossed one blade over the other in such as way that it looked like a crucifix. The light reflecting from his blades gave a small view of the face of their wielder. Alexander Anderson spoke again.
"Praise be our lord!"