A/N: Hello, everyone! I hope all of you are doing well!
Thank you all for the endless support as well as the favs/follows/reviews! I love them all and you all so much! And thank you to those who reach out to me on Tumblr! I love interacting with you guys!
And have you all heard about the live action Hellsing movie in production? Here's to hoping for the best!
Here is the next chapter! Please enjoy and I welcome all new/returning readers!
Enjoy! :D
Warnings: Foul language, references to gore
Sunlight swept over Vatican City as the ring of the morning bells and the prayers of devotes echoed throughout the hallways, mirroring a day like any other.
Yet, upon listening closer, the grim truth was unveiled through the woeful chants of clergymen as they cleaned the evidence of last night's massacre off the floor and walls.
Eternal rest grant onto them, Oh Lord
And let perpetual light shine upon them
And may they rest in peace
For hours they knelt and scrubbed until their hands were raw, but it was to no avail—the effects of the massacre would forever permeate this sacred hall.
Just as the monster responsible intended and it couldn't help but clap its hands in glee as it lurked in the rafters above. The clergymen's woeful melody was ambrosia to its ears—how the monster longed to sing along! Ah, but perhaps later when night fell upon the Vatican once more.
What fun, what fun indeed! An encore was needed after such an outstanding performance yesterday!
After all, the Doktor said to eliminate as many Iscariot agents as possible so where was the harm in having a little fun while doing so?
"We…..We will find the monster responsible…..right?" One of the clergy piped up, their voice raw from hours of sobbing. "We have to…..for our brothers' souls to rest in peace."
"Of course we will!" Another clergy member declared, dropping their rag as they shot to their feet. "The elders are already discussing everything in the Holy Father's chamber! They will see that the wretched soul responsible burns in Hell!"
That piqued the monster's interest and, after giving the clergy members a mocking sign of the cross, it slithered across the ceiling and out the door, a viscous liquid dripping from behind its veil.
What fun, what fun this was turning out to be.
"Murder of God's finest warriors and defacing Our Blessed Mother's portrait," Father Renaldo knelt before the Pontiff's throne, the countless members of Iscariots perched behind him. "These are the profane sins committed in our divine sanctuary."
"Do you know what is responsible?" Pope Pius XII uttered gravely, his hands clasped together on his lap.
Renaldo raised his head, the glare in his glasses shielding his eyes from sight, and gestured for one of the members to come forward. A young man of 15 knelt at Renaldo's side, holding the vandalized portrait in his arms. "This is the seminarian who discovered the bodies this morning. And scrawled across Our Blessed Mother's face—in the very blood of our brothers—is the name of the culprit."
"Olivia Emese Song," Pius read aloud. "That is the name of Arthur Hellsing's soldier, is it not?"
"Yes, Holy Father. It's despicable enough they serve the Protestant Church, but now they send one of their followers to violate our treaty—a treaty they drafted, mind you!—and draw innocent, holy blood!"
"So you mean to accuse this woman for these crimes?" Pius inspected his rings with an air of indifference. "Has she been spotted in Vatican City or Italy for that matter?"
"No, Holy Father. Our scout in London confirmed this morning she was seen at the Hellsing Headquarters."
"I am aware Hellsing houses that abomination, yet this woman, is she human?"
"She is, Holy Father, however—!"
"Then, answer me this, Renaldo, how can she—a mere woman—travel to Italy, slaughter 13 priests, and return to London without a trace?"
Renaldo just smirked at the Pope's skepticism before hardening his face once more as he explained himself.
"Though she is human, Holy Father, Olivia Emese Song is no ordinary woman. She has been trained by Hellsing since childhood and was one of their soldiers in the Warsaw Operation. Our intel reports the operation was a success because she—at the time only a child of 16 years—was able to control the Nosferatu. She is not even of Hellsing blood yet she can apparently control demons, so that begs the question: If she has the ability to command the unholy, what else is she capable of?"
Pius ceased fiddling with his rings as he listened to Renaldo's explanation, his eyes widening ever so slightly.
"….Is that so?"
"Everything I've reported is true, Holy Father. I even had the 'honor' of meeting this woman on several occasions and she has been nothing but disrespectful to our church. So please, Holy Father," Renaldo bowed his head, a smirk tugging on his lips, "what is your decree?"
Pius clasped his hand together, his eyes shut in deep thought, before suddenly standing tall and fling his hand outwards.
"Find that woman and bring her here to stand trial before God. We will then deliver His divine punishment upon her to the highest degree."
"Yes, Holy Father!" Iscariot replied in unison, much to the euphoria of the monster lurking high above.
What fun, what fun indeed.
Hunted by the holy and the damned, what a lucky woman you are, Olivia.
"I need to check on the Yadavs and see what Acelie has found." Olivia stepped out from behind her changing screen and sauntered towards the door, now dressed in a pair of white slacks and a black turtleneck. "I will return soon with a blood bag from the clinic, rest in your coffin until then."
She reached for the doorknob, only for a hand to snag her wrist and tug her back.
"Do you still insist on treating me like a feeble mouse?" His other hand cupped her chin as his cheek brushed against hers. "I will accompany you, this matter concerns me as well."
If it had been any other time, Olivia's eyes would've fluttered shut as she melted into his loving embrace. Yet she couldn't allow herself that luxury and calmly untangled herself from Alucard's arms. Yet he stubbornly clung to her wrist as she tried to slide her hand from his, and Olivia let out a sigh.
"I don't want to risk you getting hur—."
"One incident has shaken your faith in me? Have I truly become that small in your eyes?" His pupils were constricted and his fangs were slightly bared. "Or have you always found me so meek and frail?"
"Don't mistake my concern for belittling," Olivia shut his lips between her fingers with a scoff. She had almost forgotten how sensitive her husband was. Her words from before must've bruised his ego. "But if you insist on acting like a temperamental puppy, then turn into Baskerville."
"So I'm an injured pet then?" came his muffled reply as a smirk inched across his lips.
"I don't want you scaring Pushpa, oh wise one." Olivia released his mouth to chop him on the forehead, much like one does to an alarm clock. "She has been through enough; poor kid probably thinks you killed me."
"Such an absurd assumption tells me you haven't informed her of our relationship." Alucard drawled out, standing tall as that smirk grew tenfold.
"The subject never came up. Sorry, next time I'll whip out my photo album and sit her down for a cup of tea. I'm sure she will find the story of you using me as a frisbee very exciting."
Alucard snorted at that, thrilled—elated that despite how emotionally battered she was, Olivia still had that fire burning within her.
That's right, his Olivia was unbreakable.
"Regina mea," He brought her knuckles to his lips, adoring each digit with a reverent kiss before morphing into Baskerville and nuzzling his muzzle against her leg.
"Ridiculous…." A tiny smile graced her lips as she scratched behind his ears before throwing the door open and marching down the hallway.
The floor was like ice beneath her bare feet, yet she couldn't muster the energy to shiver. Even with the playful banter she had just partaken in, Olivia found her body vacant of any ounce of warmth. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she was still trapped in the Yadav Manor. Perhaps the demon had succeeded in consuming her, and now she was damned to this twisted purgatory where she felt neither dead nor alive.
Turning the corner to the foyer stairway, Olivia was about to descend when she spotted Walter leaning against the railing at the halfway point. His arms were crossed with a cigarette nestled between his lips, and when he noticed her presence, he beheld her with a half-lidded gaze before pushing himself away from the railing.
"Hey, I was coming to check on you," He exhaled a cloud of smoke, sliding his hands into his pockets. "How do you feel?"
Before she was a solider, Olivia was first and foremost a lady, and a lady always answers questions with poise and grace. So, with the elegance of a swan, Olivia glided down the stairs and rammed her fist into Walter's face, sending him flying down the stairs. His back collided with the floor, causing an airy "Fuck!" to escape his lips, and he didn't have a chance to realize his nose was bleeding before Olivia's heel dug into his chest and he peered up to find her looming over him.
"Where the hell were you?" Olivia whispered, her long hair curtaining around his head and isolating him from the outside, leaving Walter with nowhere else to look but at her. "And don't give me a bullshit explanation about how you were 'busy' because 'The Great Angel of Death' is always ready for battle."
That humiliating sensation drenched his spine once more at the fury in her usual gentle tone, and he shoved her foot off before staggering to his feet.
"What the fuck are you going on about?" He growled, spitting out the blood that had pooled in the back of his throat. "The moment I received word of the attack, I reported to the Yadav residence immediately!"
"You didn't answer my question, Walter!" Olivia yanked him forward by his tie. "When the distress signal was received, you were nowhere to be found!"
"I am the only butler in this place, remember?! I have duties that take me to the furthest reaches of the property! Yes, I was late—you got me! Guilty as charged!" He mockingly held up his wrists like a prisoner before matching her look of ire with his own. "So, is tardiness my crime or are you going to stop beating around the bush and come out with it?"
"Who were you talking to the palace gardens? You saw something and you lied to me, didn't you?" The fist clutching his tie trembled and although her expression was fierce, Walter could see tears building in her eyes. "Why? Why did you lie to me?"
"You are accusing me of being a liar? Oh good fucking grief, Olivia." He rolled his eyes with a snort. "On what grounds?"
"The woman and child in the clinic, the fucking demon I had to rip myself out of—those are my grounds!" Olivia snarled, tears flowing freely down her face. "Things have gone to Hell since that night in the palace gardens, and you know something—don't you fucking deny it!"
"Holy shit," Walter ran a hand through his hair before throwing his arm down in exasperation. "What do you want from me, Olivia?"
"The truth!" Olivia finally wept openingly, her stone expression crumbling to debris. "I've trusted you all my life—you are my partner, my best friend, my brother! I have never doubted you, but—!" She gestured to the direction of the clinic before yanking at her hair and screaming, "JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!"
"…..I have been telling you the truth." Walter answered plainly, taking in her panting form before peering behind her. "Ask your 'husband'. I know he's been reading my mind the entire time."
And with that, Walter pivoted on his heel and left to tend to his broken nose while Olivia hunched over and buried her face in her hands.
"…..Well?"
"I couldn't detect any indication of falsehood." Alucard reported, nuzzling his face against her leg. "Either he is telling the truth…..or Walter is Dolos incarnate."
Ice crystals sprouted across her skin, and Olivia wanted nothing more than to scream until she coughed up blood.
But she didn't.
Instead, she stood up straight, wiped her eyes, and marched towards the medical ward as the bitter cold embedded further into her skin.
"Quite the arm she's got," Schrödinger teased, watching Walter reset and bandage his nose through the mirror. "I say you flew about twenty feet, Walter."
"Piss off," Walter shoved the medic kit back into the cabinet and was about to leave when Schrödinger spoke up again.
"You are lucky Alucard's powers have diminished." His tail wrapped around Walter's neck as he hovered next to his ear. "If he was at full power, he would've tasted your treachery from miles away and the entire manor would be covered in your guts—." A barrage of silver diced Schrödinger to mincemeat, only for the creature to reform and cackle at the bloodthirsty expression sent his way. "Let's hope your luck doesn't run out soon, Walter. It would be a shame to leave the party before the main course is served."
And with that, Walter was alone with nothing but a broken mirror and the urge to slaughter 1000 ghouls.
"And he's been unconscious since then?"
"Yes, Lieutenant General Song." Dr. Trevilian confirmed, unperturbed by her miraculous recovery as he spotted the hellhound wrapped around her legs. "It is quite puzzling really. I know Sir Hellsing enjoys his drink, but the amount of heart damage he has….."
"Have you analyzed the scotch's contents yet?"
"Ah, Ms. Smith is handling that." Dr. Trevilian noticed Arthur's IV bag was getting low and stood up from his seat. "I'll be right back. If you wish to see Advisor Yadav, she is in the adjacent room."
Olivia hummed in reply, waiting for the door to close behind him before moving to stand beside Arthur's bed.
"You foolish man," She took in his haggard appearance with weary eyes. "How could you allow this to happen to yourself? Or perhaps, this is penance." Olivia placed her cursed hand over his heart, feeling a faint flutter through his hospital gown. "Over the past fourteen years, you have toyed with my heart countless times so…." A voice in the back of her mind urged her to apply pressure but instead she pulled her hand away and moved towards the door. "I am going to see Acelie. You can stay here with Sir Hellsing if you want."
All the while, Alucard silently watched the interaction between his two masters. The Hellsing sigil etched into his soul goaded him to protect his frail master from Olivia's scalding words and threatening actions, while his wedding ring reassured him that—despite her justifiable anger—Olivia would not do Arthur harm and to stand by her side.
Two pulls on his heart.
Two bonds.
One created by force.
The other created by choice.
And that was all Alucard needed as he followed Olivia out the door, never sparing the man in the bed a single glance.
Though the medical staff advised against it, Acelie was able to convince them to place Pushpa in the same bed as her mother. It didn't feel right to separate them, especially after the apparent hell storm they just weathered. She had also taken it upon herself to conduct their examination and found that—like the paramedics said—Pushpa was physically unharmed. Manali on the other hand was in a comatose state, and Acelie prayed to the highest heavens that she would wake up before her daughter did.
What had started as a simple scholarly visit was rapidly spiraling down into quite the mess, and Acelie wondered if she should call her teacher for assistance.
A gentle knock on the door roused her from her thoughts, and Acelie quickly stood up as Olivia and Alucard sauntered in.
"A-Ah, Your Majesties!" Acelie did a double take at Alucard's Baskerville form but quickly shook it off as Olivia approached the occupied bed. "Pushpa is just sleeping. As for Advisor Yadav…..I don't know when she will wake up."
Olivia didn't reply, instead brushing Pushpa's wayward hair out of her face before grabbing Manali's hand. Unlike the frigid expression she wore in Arthur's room, Olivia's current expression was nothing short of concerned and affectionate. Alucard was tempted to tease her with a 'Should I be jealous?' but wisely held his tongue as a heavy sigh escaped from her lips.
"Um," Acelie stepped forward, holding a stack of papers in her arms. "I'm sure Dr. Trevilian has informed you, but Sir Hellsing is suffering from heart damage and like you said, his scotch has been tampered with. The tests will take more time, but I have confirmed traces of foreign substances and—Your Majesty?"
Olivia just sighed again, now holding both mother and daughter's hands as tears stained her cheeks.
"Forgive me," She breathed out, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I never wanted to drag the two of you into this."
"Your Majesty," Acelie reached out to touch her but paused when Alucard placed his head on her lap. "We don't have to talk about this now. Your body may be healed, but mentally I'm sure—."
"It's fine. Thank you, Acelie." Olivia stood up, her face suddenly devoid of tears or any emotion for that matter. "Truly, thank you…..for everything."
"…..Of course, Your Majesty." Acelie bowed her head, feeling it was the proper thing to do, before offering the papers in her arms. "I have compiled some research and made some drafts of my theories—if you want to take a look right now of course."
Olivia surveyed the hospital room, her eyes drawn to the empty vase next to the bed.
"In a minute, Acelie. I need to do something first." She looked down at Alucard and gestured to the three other occupants. "Stay here and watch over them. I'll be right back."
Scanning her thoughts, Alucard couldn't help but smile at her intentions and nodded in acknowledgment as she breezed past him and out the door.
"…..Sooooo," Acelie took a seat as she observed the giant hellhound curling up on the floor. "Can you tell me the complete story of how you absorbed Baskerville? For research of course."
"But of course, Dear Scholar." Alucard chuckled, pantomiming pulling out a scrapbook and pouring tea. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"
Olivia knelt in the gardens, carefully plucking primroses until she had a decent handful.
Even in the bitter English winter, such beauty could still be found.
It was likely these blooms would wilt before the day was out, yet Olivia still wanted to bright their hospital room a little.
Standing tall, she walked back towards the garden entrance, the snow crunching beneath her bare feet.
Still not an ounce of warmth.
And she couldn't be bothered to care.
Not when a figure stepped into her line of sight, blocking her exit from the gardens. It was a young man, maybe 15 or so, dressed in clerics clothing. Flecks of snow stuck to his short blonde hair, and his eyes were the same shade of green as hers. He was shorter than her as well, only reaching mid-chest, and if he wasn't glowering at her, Olivia would've forced a smile and greeted him.
Instead she ran her free hand through her hair and muttered, "Now the freaking Catholics are after me," before addressing the young man directly. "I take it you are here to kill me?"
"Is that a confession?" The young man's accent took her off guard as he unsheathed his weapons. "Then I should spare Our Holy Father the trouble and execute you myself."
"You are going to kill me without accusing me properly? Where is the justice in that?"
"Don't you dare lecture me, heathen." The young man growled, creeping closer with his weapon ready. "My brothers are dead, and our holy sanctuary is desecrated because of you!"
Countless questions flooded Olivia's mind, and she had a feeling—after everything she'd been through—the answers wouldn't surprise her.
However she chose not to vocalize them, and instead placed the bouquet on the ground and held her hands up, not to surrender but more so as a peace offering.
"May I at least know the name of my executioner?"
The young man beheld her with suspicion before nodding, the glare of his bayonets reflecting on the fallen snow.
"Alexander Anderson."
A/N: Yup, its him!
This was a dialogue focused chapter, but we get more action in the upcoming ones! The end of this arc is approaching and then we finally enter canon territory!
I hope all of you are doing well! Please stay safe and remember to wash your hands!
Please leave a review too! I love them all and you all so much!
Thank you so much again for reading and see you in the next chapter! :D