"That island of England breeds very valiant creatures. Their hounds are unequaled in courage... They will eat like wolves and fight like devils." - W. Shakespeare, Henry V
Together they travelled the Irish countryside; Master and Fledgling. Both, beasts of Hellsing. Side-by-side they approached the small, deserted town of Badrick as though this was nothing more than a relaxing night time stroll. The crude little dirt road passed beneath a family of old oaks. As they walked under the thick canopy of leaves, shadows blanketed their bodies briefly, before they re-emerged into the stark silver glow of the moonlight. It was eerily quiet; unsettling, as though living creatures knew instinctively to avoid this place at all cost... like the ground itself was saturated with poison and the air too toxic to breathe. The only audible sound was the swaying sea of tall grass, growing wild and free, whispering stories into the wind. Rustling branches and leaves that intertwined above them echoed the poetic soliloquy of nature with applauding ovation.
While Alucard appeared to enjoy the stillness and serenity, his companion Seras seemed a bit on the nervous side...despite the fact that she'd been carrying that massive cannon of a weapon casually over her shoulder the entire time as though it weighed next to nothing. The king of vampires had said very little on this "field-trip" of a journey, which only added to the disconcerting nature of the unnatural silence itself. That seemingly ever-present smirk he wore upon his lips like a prized possession was nowhere to be found, and beyond the lenses of those orange-tinted glasses, his eyes looked sternly focused on the road ahead. Deep red folds of his coat swayed with each footfall. Black strands of hair flitted with every breath of the night breeze beneath the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. It was almost like he himself played a part in the rhythmic ebb and flow that was Badrick's hushed eternal epilogue.
At last, the young Draculina decided to break the all too awkward silence, all the while keeping her eyes focused on the shadowed features of Alucard's face. "Is....everything all right, master?" Although she wasn't expressing herself in her normal, obnoxiously loud manner, that thick cockney accent still clung to every word of hers like layers of drenched fabric.
Blood-red eyes faintly glowed behind colored glass while Alucard shifted his gaze to the one who shared the path beside him. Why on earth would she be asking him such a question when she was clearly the one looking spooked and anxious? Hell, she was probably afraid for her life considering that this was the place where they had encountered the Paladin for the first time... It was quite a bit of fun, actually. The memories alone caused his lips to withdraw over predatory teeth in the manner which they always did when he exhibited that malicious grin. "Rumor...... Hearsay..... Suspicion..... That's the reason she sent us here." Alucard lifted his head and looked toward the dark, derelict remnants of the town up ahead. "This place is just a museum of death... and we might as well be chasing our own shadows. I just hope this doesn't turn out to be a huge waste of my time... That's all."
Seras continued to keep pace with the elder vampire while she listened to the deep, smoky, yet soothing voice. Big, sapphire blue eyes closed and re-opened in a succession of blinks before her unoccupied hand crept sheepishly to the back of her neck. "But master..... Don't you trust Sir Integra's intuition?"
Alucard's fiercely glowing glare darted back to the fledgling at his side before a response slithered its way through dagger fangs, dressed by that monstrous grin. "Stop asking such stupid questions, Police Girl. What I don't trust are the eyes and ears of ordinary men; all those regular jack-offs who see what they want to see... hear what they want to hear." He couldn't help but let a deep chuckle bubble from his throat at the train of thought he currently conducted. "Think of all those idiots who have looked at a burned piece of toast and thought they saw Jesus... And then think of the hundreds of even more naive idiots who actually believed that those coincidences were some kind of divine premonition... All I'm saying is that it's not like her to gamble on uncertainties like this." It was then that he stopped dead in his tracks. They had reached the edge of the town and the soft breeze carried with it a very peculiar scent. The silence remained almost deafening. Alucard's smile faded and he let his head tilt upward to catch a better whiff of a certain scent he hadn't encountered in a very long time.
Together they travelled the Irish countryside; Master and Fledgling. Both, beasts of Hellsing. Side-by-side they approached the small, deserted town of Badrick as though this was nothing more than a relaxing night time stroll. The crude little dirt road passed beneath a family of old oaks. As they walked under the thick canopy of leaves, shadows blanketed their bodies briefly, before they re-emerged into the stark silver glow of the moonlight. It was eerily quiet; unsettling, as though living creatures knew instinctively to avoid this place at all cost... like the ground itself was saturated with poison and the air too toxic to breathe. The only audible sound was the swaying sea of tall grass, growing wild and free, whispering stories into the wind. Rustling branches and leaves that intertwined above them echoed the poetic soliloquy of nature with applauding ovation.
While Alucard appeared to enjoy the stillness and serenity, his companion Seras seemed a bit on the nervous side...despite the fact that she'd been carrying that massive cannon of a weapon casually over her shoulder the entire time as though it weighed next to nothing. The king of vampires had said very little on this "field-trip" of a journey, which only added to the disconcerting nature of the unnatural silence itself. That seemingly ever-present smirk he wore upon his lips like a prized possession was nowhere to be found, and beyond the lenses of those orange-tinted glasses, his eyes looked sternly focused on the road ahead. Deep red folds of his coat swayed with each footfall. Black strands of hair flitted with every breath of the night breeze beneath the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. It was almost like he himself played a part in the rhythmic ebb and flow that was Badrick's hushed eternal epilogue.
At last, the young Draculina decided to break the all too awkward silence, all the while keeping her eyes focused on the shadowed features of Alucard's face. "Is....everything all right, master?" Although she wasn't expressing herself in her normal, obnoxiously loud manner, that thick cockney accent still clung to every word of hers like layers of drenched fabric.
Blood-red eyes faintly glowed behind colored glass while Alucard shifted his gaze to the one who shared the path beside him. Why on earth would she be asking him such a question when she was clearly the one looking spooked and anxious? Hell, she was probably afraid for her life considering that this was the place where they had encountered the Paladin for the first time... It was quite a bit of fun, actually. The memories alone caused his lips to withdraw over predatory teeth in the manner which they always did when he exhibited that malicious grin. "Rumor...... Hearsay..... Suspicion..... That's the reason she sent us here." Alucard lifted his head and looked toward the dark, derelict remnants of the town up ahead. "This place is just a museum of death... and we might as well be chasing our own shadows. I just hope this doesn't turn out to be a huge waste of my time... That's all."
Seras continued to keep pace with the elder vampire while she listened to the deep, smoky, yet soothing voice. Big, sapphire blue eyes closed and re-opened in a succession of blinks before her unoccupied hand crept sheepishly to the back of her neck. "But master..... Don't you trust Sir Integra's intuition?"
Alucard's fiercely glowing glare darted back to the fledgling at his side before a response slithered its way through dagger fangs, dressed by that monstrous grin. "Stop asking such stupid questions, Police Girl. What I don't trust are the eyes and ears of ordinary men; all those regular jack-offs who see what they want to see... hear what they want to hear." He couldn't help but let a deep chuckle bubble from his throat at the train of thought he currently conducted. "Think of all those idiots who have looked at a burned piece of toast and thought they saw Jesus... And then think of the hundreds of even more naive idiots who actually believed that those coincidences were some kind of divine premonition... All I'm saying is that it's not like her to gamble on uncertainties like this." It was then that he stopped dead in his tracks. They had reached the edge of the town and the soft breeze carried with it a very peculiar scent. The silence remained almost deafening. Alucard's smile faded and he let his head tilt upward to catch a better whiff of a certain scent he hadn't encountered in a very long time.
The suffocating silence that reigned over Badrick wasn't silent in the least. If one listened closely, it would be painstakingly clear that the town was raging. The town, soaked in what seemed, at first glance, was nothing more than paint. Crimson spattered the lush green grass, the walls and roofs of homes. Tattered cloth torn to bits and scattered everywhere, littering the ground with fraying rags. The town covered in a vandalistic mess made by hoodlums and rebellious kids. Seeming to be scattered everywhere, asleep in the dead of the night were, what one could only guess, as those responsible, no doubt from drugs or liquor... or a combination of the two. But with all the signs of rebels and troublemakers, the air itself seemed tense. Even to the most oblivious, this town reeked of fear.
The paint, though in some places painted in crude anti-Christian symbols and slanderous remarks, the random splashes of crimson across the entire town could only be known for its true identity. Blood. Corpses strewn about, shredded and torn, bleeding until dry. Blood drown the town, taking away a once rustic and peaceful scene and turning it into a scene from Hell itself. The dying screams of the slaughtered could almost be heard in the silence of the town. Through all the blood and death, the town was still not empty. Deep within the bowel of the town, whispered scuffles echoed from a small stone home. The walls painted in lawless splashes of red, dripping from the ceilings. The slaughter having been pursued inside, leaving the unmistakable sharp tang of metal hanging heavily in the air, just as thick as the horror and anguish suffocating the atmosphere. No longer was it inhabited by merry men and their families. No, the creatures living within were of a much darker and more vile sort. Gathered in the small stone home was a nest. A nest of creatures condemned to Hell, creatures who feast on the blood of man, banished by the light, forever cursed to skulk through the shadows. Vampires.
The paint, though in some places painted in crude anti-Christian symbols and slanderous remarks, the random splashes of crimson across the entire town could only be known for its true identity. Blood. Corpses strewn about, shredded and torn, bleeding until dry. Blood drown the town, taking away a once rustic and peaceful scene and turning it into a scene from Hell itself. The dying screams of the slaughtered could almost be heard in the silence of the town. Through all the blood and death, the town was still not empty. Deep within the bowel of the town, whispered scuffles echoed from a small stone home. The walls painted in lawless splashes of red, dripping from the ceilings. The slaughter having been pursued inside, leaving the unmistakable sharp tang of metal hanging heavily in the air, just as thick as the horror and anguish suffocating the atmosphere. No longer was it inhabited by merry men and their families. No, the creatures living within were of a much darker and more vile sort. Gathered in the small stone home was a nest. A nest of creatures condemned to Hell, creatures who feast on the blood of man, banished by the light, forever cursed to skulk through the shadows. Vampires.
The immortal Count remained still for only a short moment longer, allowing the gentle breeze to wash over him. The scents of tainted blood, of the undead, and the evidence of terror jolted his senses like a shockwave. Immersed in a static flood of memories, eyelids narrowed, observing the towns very morbid new paint-job. Even from where they had stopped, he could determine that whatever acts of savagery had taken place here, must have happened fairly recently. Lips curled once again, into a devilish smirk before he directed his garnet gaze back down to the young fledgling vampire who had stopped beside him. Seras had tightened her grip on her weapon. Blue eyes had fluttered wide open with sheer bewilderment. Every muscle on her curvaceous form tensed with anticipation. Alucard resumed walking forward, stepping forth into the town which bore resemblance to something one might find beyond the maw of hell itself. Seras inevitably followed nervously behind him."So... Something is here then. And it looks like they've done an interesting job at redecorating." Calm, quiet words were spoken in a tone which seemed far too casual for the bloodbath around them. Badrick had truly become a scene of nightmares. They strolled through the silent symphonies of mayhem and obscene sermons written in blood. To the eyes and ears of ordinary men, it would have appeared as though there wasn't a single soul left standing in this place, but the elder vampire soon discovered that this wasn't the case at all.
Through the silence of death and beyond the terrible sights of the open road that stretched ahead, Alucard's keen ears picked up a series of peculiar sounds. Perhaps survivors of this massacre? Or perhaps even the tyrants themselves? Either way it would surely turn out to be an interesting encounter. If whoever... or whatever... still remained here, and they hadn't sought out the vampire and his fledgling by now, then something must have either kept them busy or incapable of doing so. This warranted further investigation. Alucard and Seras soon found themselves navigating through a small residential area. The young Draculina seemed to have eased up a bit, though what was now present in her tone when she spoke was no longer anxiety and shock... but disappointment and hints of contempt. "I don't understand this... I thought this town was abandoned after the vampire attack. Where did these people come from? And who would do this kind of thing? .... I mean, if it was another vampire, then they should all be ghouls... But..." She probably would have continued her train of thought if Alucard hadn't cut her off.
The undead Count stopped again and came face to face with his fledging so quickly that Seras,in her state of contemplation, nearly ran right into him. The wide brim of his hat blocked out the pale light of the moon as he stared down at her from beyond colored lenses with a twisted smile. "Who indeed... I think we're about to find out. But if your sense of smell weren't as useless as a condom machine in the Vatican, then you would have figured out a long time ago that these mangled leftovers aren't human corpses." A growl of a chuckle slithered through fanged teeth beyond that jackal grin.
The fledgling stared up at the elder's shadowed face shamefully at first, though her expression quickly changed to sheer disbelief when he suggested that these dead bodies were the remains of something other than human. "What? Not human? But Master, they look just like..." The volume of her voice had elevated, and Alucard cut her sentence short once more.
"Werewolves will look like perfectly ordinary humans after they die, even if they were in their raging, bestial state just seconds before. Believe me, these corpses aren't human. Their blood smells and tastes very different from human and even vampire blood. It's bitter and provokes deep feelings of dread, despair, and rage.... unless...." The calm, quiet, yet resonating voice of the vampire king trailed off momentarily as a certain memory surfaced from the abyssal pit of his mind. Werewolves... he hadn't thought about these creatures in so long; Monsters who's rivalries and feuds with vampires ran deeper than blood. Ages ago they were hunted to the cusp of extinction, and the hand-full that survived were said to have gone into hiding far from civilization. But if a whole pack had moved itself into the abandoned town, then perhaps their kind was no longer a dying one. This was definitely a scrap of information that Miss Hellsing would find very useful.
"Master...?" Seras looked curiously over Alucard's features. Stray strands of dark hair danced across the orange glass in which she could see her own reflection. It seemed that she always enjoyed it when the elder vampire taught her new things... even if he tendered to always belittle her in the process. "Unless what?"
Alucard regained his focus on his inquisitive fledgling, that unsettling, signature smile shifting from mischief to malice. "...Unless it's the blood of a pup." He watched her big, sapphire eyes widen upon hearing his answer, though he truly wasn't surprised by her reaction. The heavy fabric of the deep red coat fanned and swayed when he turned back around to walk toward a particular residence he'd been keeping in sight. "Now stay close, and be quiet. Try listening instead of talking for once. "
The last thing heard out of the young female's mouth was a somewhat dispondent, hushed: "Yes, Master." The home they approached wasn't extraordinary or all too different than the others in the area...at least not in its structure or masonry. However, this house ceased being a home long ago, and now it had been transformed into a den of blood and debauchery. The simple wooden fence encircling the stone home was in shambles. From the looks of it, a fierce battle had taken place here. The grass was ripped to shreds exposing messy patches of soil. Empty shell casings glistened in the moon light along the path which divided the grass. Blood saturated the ground and painted a distinctive, glistening crimson trail toward the front steps of the building where the loser of the battle had found their place of eternal rest. Not only was the slumped over, male body riddled with dozens of bullet holes, but protruding outward from his chest like pikes on a battlefield were several splintered wooden planks that clearly were once upon a time nailed to that fence. Closer inspection revealed that his throat had also been slit. Alucard's eyes narrowed. He could hear something inside; feel the presence of what dreadfully pathetic monsters lurked within this dreadful den... and there was something else too that now caught his attention. Another scent... one that he hadn't found anywhere else in this tomb of beasts. Letting a little laugh slip from his throat, he kicked down the dark oak door, painted with sacrilege and barely clinging to its hinges. It was almost like he was exhibiting a deranged kind of enthusiasm. The scent he'd caught while standing outside grew far more pungent once the dust and debris of the broken door had settled down in the entryway. Alucard could feel his mouth begin to water. This little field trip might turn out to be far more rewarding than he'd anticipated. But much like every delectable gourmet meal, it certainly wouldn't come without a bit of work involved.... good thing the "work" usually involved also happened to be one of his favorite hobbies, and Sir Integra had clearly stated their objective to 'search out and destroy any supernatural threats found in Badrick'.
Through the silence of death and beyond the terrible sights of the open road that stretched ahead, Alucard's keen ears picked up a series of peculiar sounds. Perhaps survivors of this massacre? Or perhaps even the tyrants themselves? Either way it would surely turn out to be an interesting encounter. If whoever... or whatever... still remained here, and they hadn't sought out the vampire and his fledgling by now, then something must have either kept them busy or incapable of doing so. This warranted further investigation. Alucard and Seras soon found themselves navigating through a small residential area. The young Draculina seemed to have eased up a bit, though what was now present in her tone when she spoke was no longer anxiety and shock... but disappointment and hints of contempt. "I don't understand this... I thought this town was abandoned after the vampire attack. Where did these people come from? And who would do this kind of thing? .... I mean, if it was another vampire, then they should all be ghouls... But..." She probably would have continued her train of thought if Alucard hadn't cut her off.
The undead Count stopped again and came face to face with his fledging so quickly that Seras,in her state of contemplation, nearly ran right into him. The wide brim of his hat blocked out the pale light of the moon as he stared down at her from beyond colored lenses with a twisted smile. "Who indeed... I think we're about to find out. But if your sense of smell weren't as useless as a condom machine in the Vatican, then you would have figured out a long time ago that these mangled leftovers aren't human corpses." A growl of a chuckle slithered through fanged teeth beyond that jackal grin.
The fledgling stared up at the elder's shadowed face shamefully at first, though her expression quickly changed to sheer disbelief when he suggested that these dead bodies were the remains of something other than human. "What? Not human? But Master, they look just like..." The volume of her voice had elevated, and Alucard cut her sentence short once more.
"Werewolves will look like perfectly ordinary humans after they die, even if they were in their raging, bestial state just seconds before. Believe me, these corpses aren't human. Their blood smells and tastes very different from human and even vampire blood. It's bitter and provokes deep feelings of dread, despair, and rage.... unless...." The calm, quiet, yet resonating voice of the vampire king trailed off momentarily as a certain memory surfaced from the abyssal pit of his mind. Werewolves... he hadn't thought about these creatures in so long; Monsters who's rivalries and feuds with vampires ran deeper than blood. Ages ago they were hunted to the cusp of extinction, and the hand-full that survived were said to have gone into hiding far from civilization. But if a whole pack had moved itself into the abandoned town, then perhaps their kind was no longer a dying one. This was definitely a scrap of information that Miss Hellsing would find very useful.
"Master...?" Seras looked curiously over Alucard's features. Stray strands of dark hair danced across the orange glass in which she could see her own reflection. It seemed that she always enjoyed it when the elder vampire taught her new things... even if he tendered to always belittle her in the process. "Unless what?"
Alucard regained his focus on his inquisitive fledgling, that unsettling, signature smile shifting from mischief to malice. "...Unless it's the blood of a pup." He watched her big, sapphire eyes widen upon hearing his answer, though he truly wasn't surprised by her reaction. The heavy fabric of the deep red coat fanned and swayed when he turned back around to walk toward a particular residence he'd been keeping in sight. "Now stay close, and be quiet. Try listening instead of talking for once. "
The last thing heard out of the young female's mouth was a somewhat dispondent, hushed: "Yes, Master." The home they approached wasn't extraordinary or all too different than the others in the area...at least not in its structure or masonry. However, this house ceased being a home long ago, and now it had been transformed into a den of blood and debauchery. The simple wooden fence encircling the stone home was in shambles. From the looks of it, a fierce battle had taken place here. The grass was ripped to shreds exposing messy patches of soil. Empty shell casings glistened in the moon light along the path which divided the grass. Blood saturated the ground and painted a distinctive, glistening crimson trail toward the front steps of the building where the loser of the battle had found their place of eternal rest. Not only was the slumped over, male body riddled with dozens of bullet holes, but protruding outward from his chest like pikes on a battlefield were several splintered wooden planks that clearly were once upon a time nailed to that fence. Closer inspection revealed that his throat had also been slit. Alucard's eyes narrowed. He could hear something inside; feel the presence of what dreadfully pathetic monsters lurked within this dreadful den... and there was something else too that now caught his attention. Another scent... one that he hadn't found anywhere else in this tomb of beasts. Letting a little laugh slip from his throat, he kicked down the dark oak door, painted with sacrilege and barely clinging to its hinges. It was almost like he was exhibiting a deranged kind of enthusiasm. The scent he'd caught while standing outside grew far more pungent once the dust and debris of the broken door had settled down in the entryway. Alucard could feel his mouth begin to water. This little field trip might turn out to be far more rewarding than he'd anticipated. But much like every delectable gourmet meal, it certainly wouldn't come without a bit of work involved.... good thing the "work" usually involved also happened to be one of his favorite hobbies, and Sir Integra had clearly stated their objective to 'search out and destroy any supernatural threats found in Badrick'.
Within the walls of the small stone home the sounds of the scuffling grew. Even the faint sounds of voices could be heard, hushed voices laughing and murmuring through the blood soaked halls. In the furthest corner of the house, a door spattered in blood, was left open ajar. The scuffling and voices echoed out from beyond the door. Inside there stood four men, each appearing in their early twenties. Two were leaning against the far wall, one was on the wall adjacent, each were the fourth vampire, who was in the middle of the room. He chuckled as he knelt over a young girl. His knee digging into her back to keep her pinned to the floor. Taking a fist full of long, curly, rust colored hair the vampire pulled her head back, forcing her to arch her back. "Ya know," The vampire said looking up at his comrades. "I ain't ever been one for kids, but if they all taste this good then I don't mind keepin 'em around!" He cackled as he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket. Flicking it open he smirked down at the girl and plunged the knife into the girl's shoulder. She let out a gasp and started sobbing. The vampire laughed as he twisted the knife in her shoulder. She tensed and took sharp intake of breath, unable to make anymore sound.
A small whimper echoed from over where the two vampires stood side by side. Between them was a boy. He looked about the same age as the girl, maybe a few years younger. He whimpered again, gaining the attention of the vampire who was kneeling on the girl. The vampire looked up and glared at the boy. The boy cringed and began to shiver. He took in a shaky breath and let it out. "P-pl-pleas-se........ p-please don't h-hurt m-my sister a-anym-more...." Tears welled up in his eyes, soon becoming too heavy to remain on his lashes and raced down his cheeks. "You want me to stop?" The vampire asked sneering. He tightened his hold on the girl's hair and pulled her towards him, making her back bend at an unnatural angle. He laughed as the boy sat forward, trying to get up, only to be kicked back by one of the vampires next to him. The boy yelped and curled into himself, trying to restart his lungs, after having the wind knocked out of them. Cackling, the vampire pulled the girl a bit more and leered down at her. "Fine, I'll be the gentleman...." A dark chuckle shook the vampire's ribcage as he gripped the knife tighter. "And slit her throat." His hand shot to the girl's neck and stuck the knife in to the hilt and pulled it across, from ear to ear in one swift movement. The girl's eyes widened and she gurgled something illegible before being dropped to the floor with a loud thump. The boy stilled, watching every detail, feeling as if time slowed to a crawl. The knife piercing her flesh, the skin splitting open, the blood spraying across the room, some even landing on his legs. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped and he tried to scramble to get to the girl.
"LLLIIIIIILLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!" His throat ripped out the scream as he watched his sister fall. He wrenched forward, scrambling towards the fallen girl. However before he could reach her, the vampire grabbed him and threw him to the ground. The vampire grabbed the boy by the hair and pinned him to the floor. "Since you're the only one left, I'm gonna take my damn sweet time with ya!" He said as he moved his knife to hold it like a pencil. "So relax and enjoy." The vampire moved his grip to hold the boy by his jaw. He drove the knife into the boy's face, cutting a line down his face. Starting from hi his hairline, the vampire cut a line down, over his eye and down to his cheekbone. The boy screamed and writhed, trying desperately to get free. It hurt! Why was this guy hurting him? Why did he and the others attack and kill his family? The boy's scream echoed through the house, slightly shaking the dust from the rafters. With the blood slicking the vampire's grip on his jaw, the boy was able to slip his head from the vampire's grip. He gasped when the knife slashed across his cheek under his eye, making the mark on his face look like a reversed cross. Since his face was now free, the boy squirmed and bucked even more. He was able to slip out from under the vampire. He flipped onto his stomach and tried to crawl to his feet and run, but the vampire grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him back, tearing his shirt. The boy fell back and was dragged to the floor again. "I ain't done, you little shit!" The vampire threw him onto his stomach and slammed him down by his neck. The boy cried out, only to scream louder, kicking frantically, as the vampire carved a reversed pentagram into his back, between his shoulders. The boy wanted to thrash, wanted to squirm, to buck and run away. Run as fast as he could. Somewhere safe. Anywhere was safer than here! He just wanted it to stop!
A small whimper echoed from over where the two vampires stood side by side. Between them was a boy. He looked about the same age as the girl, maybe a few years younger. He whimpered again, gaining the attention of the vampire who was kneeling on the girl. The vampire looked up and glared at the boy. The boy cringed and began to shiver. He took in a shaky breath and let it out. "P-pl-pleas-se........ p-please don't h-hurt m-my sister a-anym-more...." Tears welled up in his eyes, soon becoming too heavy to remain on his lashes and raced down his cheeks. "You want me to stop?" The vampire asked sneering. He tightened his hold on the girl's hair and pulled her towards him, making her back bend at an unnatural angle. He laughed as the boy sat forward, trying to get up, only to be kicked back by one of the vampires next to him. The boy yelped and curled into himself, trying to restart his lungs, after having the wind knocked out of them. Cackling, the vampire pulled the girl a bit more and leered down at her. "Fine, I'll be the gentleman...." A dark chuckle shook the vampire's ribcage as he gripped the knife tighter. "And slit her throat." His hand shot to the girl's neck and stuck the knife in to the hilt and pulled it across, from ear to ear in one swift movement. The girl's eyes widened and she gurgled something illegible before being dropped to the floor with a loud thump. The boy stilled, watching every detail, feeling as if time slowed to a crawl. The knife piercing her flesh, the skin splitting open, the blood spraying across the room, some even landing on his legs. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped and he tried to scramble to get to the girl.
"LLLIIIIIILLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!" His throat ripped out the scream as he watched his sister fall. He wrenched forward, scrambling towards the fallen girl. However before he could reach her, the vampire grabbed him and threw him to the ground. The vampire grabbed the boy by the hair and pinned him to the floor. "Since you're the only one left, I'm gonna take my damn sweet time with ya!" He said as he moved his knife to hold it like a pencil. "So relax and enjoy." The vampire moved his grip to hold the boy by his jaw. He drove the knife into the boy's face, cutting a line down his face. Starting from hi his hairline, the vampire cut a line down, over his eye and down to his cheekbone. The boy screamed and writhed, trying desperately to get free. It hurt! Why was this guy hurting him? Why did he and the others attack and kill his family? The boy's scream echoed through the house, slightly shaking the dust from the rafters. With the blood slicking the vampire's grip on his jaw, the boy was able to slip his head from the vampire's grip. He gasped when the knife slashed across his cheek under his eye, making the mark on his face look like a reversed cross. Since his face was now free, the boy squirmed and bucked even more. He was able to slip out from under the vampire. He flipped onto his stomach and tried to crawl to his feet and run, but the vampire grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him back, tearing his shirt. The boy fell back and was dragged to the floor again. "I ain't done, you little shit!" The vampire threw him onto his stomach and slammed him down by his neck. The boy cried out, only to scream louder, kicking frantically, as the vampire carved a reversed pentagram into his back, between his shoulders. The boy wanted to thrash, wanted to squirm, to buck and run away. Run as fast as he could. Somewhere safe. Anywhere was safer than here! He just wanted it to stop!
The entryway lead into two open rooms on either side, one having presumably been the dining room and the other, the living room of the house. The entire interior had been ransacked and vandalized, probably even before the pack had decided to settle themselves in. Deep, jagged claw marks marred floor boards and woodwork. Wallpaper hung in ribbons from walls stained with blood both old and fresh. Every picture, mirror, or clock lay scattered in pieces from corner to corner among crystalline mosaics of shattered window glass and dapples of crimson gore. Curtains and furniture cushions were reduced to tattered, red-stained rotten rags. Just past the front door, a weathered stairway lead upward into complete darkness, while a long, straight hallway before them did just the same.... not that this would pose a hindrance to either of them.
Voices which may have sounded muffled or distorted to human ears drifted through the masonry now crystal clear to both the elder and the fledgling. The entire place appeared to be completely saturated with the teasing, subtle hints of the alluring scent he'd been following; lingering like the residual odors of a savory meal already cooked and consumed. Alucard and Seras suddenly both snapped the focus of their impeccable vision toward the end of the hallway that continued beyond the staircase, from whence they heard the wailing sound of a high pitched voice, crying out a name in abject despair. The young vampire felt a chill descend the length of her spine. Chasing the harrowing wail like a banshee echo, came a wave of the same lingering fragrance that surpassed its prior faint essence by a hundred fold with robust potency. Even Seras could now discern the difference between the particular scent and that of ordinary human blood. Her nostrils flared, sampling the stagnant air before she turned her attention over to Alucard. "That smell..." Her voice barely rose above a shaken whisper.
Alucard's reaction to the tidal-wave of sensory overload seemed to differ vastly from that of his young counterpart. Lips withdrew further from razor-fanged teeth. A voracious chuckle surfaced from his throat. Pupils dilated at the center of red irises now glowing like hot embers of a dormant fire, the kindling for which was a deep-seeded, fervent desire. He let the moistened tip of his tongue flick over sharply pointed canines with feral anticipation. The crimson Count pulled another covetous, deep breath into his lungs before he turned his attention back to his slightly puzzled fledgling. Without voicing a single syllable, Alucard stepped from her side and slipped into the enveloping shadows of the dark hallway. "Head upstairs and see if you find anything else." The words were not a verbal command, but rather one that wove itself seamlessly into the young vampire's thoughts and inner monologue, like a voice in her own head that she had no control over. It was that command which kept Seras from following him instinctively into the shadows that appeared to have completely swallowed him from her sight. It made sense, really. Split up and cover more ground. With newfound confidence and determination, the young Draculina tucked her oversized weapon under her right arm, supported its length with her left hand, and began her ascend to the top floor.
The advantage of manipulating shadows and being able to pass noiselessly through solid matter was that it provided creative alternatives for entering (and also exiting) certain places however he saw fit. The room he approached held his focus captive much the same way a predatory beast kept its eyes trained on its prey. Every one of his heightened senses tingled, undulating like the strings of a well-tuned instrument. There was no denying it now. Within the confines of that room was something he wanted; Something above, beyond, and yet still within the parameters of his given objectives; Something he wouldn't let anyone get in the way of obtaining. The very instant the last piercing scream forced its way from the remaining werewolf pup's throat, the entirety of the faintly illuminated room became shrouded in darkness. What few candles had been ingited to make up for the lack of functioning electricity flickered before being snuffed completely without the slightest gust of a breeze to speak of. Freaks... Bioengineered bottom feeders of the undead... The scum of the non-living who felt self entitled enough to proclaim themselves as true vampires... And the last bit of succulent puppy blood was about to be wasted on those parasites? Not a chance in hell.
The four males within the room exchanged puzzled glances, though showed little deterrence in their ultimate goal. One of the two men who had stood against the wall had sunk to his knees to lap his tongue voraciously over the pool of blood spilt from the girl's limp corpse before it could cool and lose its potency. Although their night-vision wasn't on par with that of the true undead, the presence of light was a simple convenience rather than a necessity. The one still kneeling over the young boy continued to keep a firm grip on the dainty neck. "Fucking lights... Who need's 'em anyway. Let's just have ourselves another snack before this squirmy little shit breaks his own fucking neck! After that we can get outta this shit-hole, maybe pick up some bitches for dessert... I've never felt this good in my whole fucking life!" The other three chimed-in their own choice words of agreement. With a deranged laugh, the male leaned further over the still writhing werewolf pup with the intense desire to taste the fresh crimson that welled from the symbol carved into the smooth skin. Though it was merely an instant before his tongue could make contact, that a deeply resonant growl of a voice echoed through each corner of the room, as though the darkness of the shadows themselves were capable of speaking.
"A snack? You parasitic invalids don't deserve such a feast as your last meal." Alucard watched as the male recoiled his tongue and straightened up a bit to let glowing green eyes dart about the room encased in darkness. The only light which lent the slightest sliver of illumination was a streak of pale silver that trickled in through a missing slat in the crudely boarded-up window. The others tensed visibly, attempting to determine exactly who the voice belonged to, and where exactly its owner could be hiding. The leader let loose a vexed growl, tightening his grip on the switchblade as he continued to look around from floor to ceiling. "What the fuck?! Who the hell are you and what the fuck do you want?! Get over here so I can kick the shit outta you for interrupting our dinner!" Consuming the hefty quantities of the potent crimson liquid appeared to have gone straight to his head. A disembodied, sadistic laugh of amusement flitted about the four walls. Alucard no longer cared about the immense pleasure he normally derived from exterminating this sort of pathetic vermin. It no longer mattered that ending their existence was a part of his assignment. The aroma and even the very sight of that youthful werewolf blood had set him on edge. It beckoned him seductively; calling upon memories of the exquisite emotional high that left him with a sense of tunnel-vision which focused his attention solely on what he now wanted.... craved... desired... So much had already been spilled and gone to waste. That knowledge alone threw fuel to the fire of his rage. That last whelp was his, and he wanted it now. "I'm your executioner."
The instant those words rushed past lips and razor fangs glistening with avarice, a seamless transition between solid matter and open space ensued. Through the stone wall which kept this room seperate from the adjacent one plunged a black-clad, left arm. Long, fingers hidden within white textiles curled around the grip of a massive, silver pistol. Without a second's hesitation or delay, his index finger flexed against the trigger. The muzzle flash produced by the discharged blessed bullet briefly lit the dark room with stark, white light as the thunderous sound which accompanied it reverberated in each crevice of the surrounding stone work. One of the two young male vampires who had lingered near the wall together was suddenly assaulted by an agonizing pain that bored its way from the base of his left shoulderblade, through his chest cavity, all the way through to the other side where the bullet explosively exited and continued its short trajectory until it struck the opposing wall, lodging itself into the masonry just inches from missing the head of the one who had been pacing impatiently along that side of the room. Blood projected in a wide arch from the massive exit wound. The space that once housed a heart was left as nothing more than an empty cavity, to the maimed flesh and protruding, shattered bones of which still clung lingering wisps of residual smoke.
The empty, large caliber metal casing struck the ground only seconds before the eviscerated vampire's body. Crimson leaked from his gasping, fanged maw with every succession of involuntary respiratory contractions. Their leader hissed a few obscenities under his breath and reluctantly released his hold on the pale-haired boy before rising confidently to his feet. This would at least grant the pup a chance to scramble and hide in a darkened corner whilst anxiously awaiting his fate. With mouth, face, and hands still smeared with slowly drying blood, the vampire who had been greedily tearing into the laceration along the dead girl's throat began scrambling backwards as well, though trying to stand upright proved somewhat difficult with a viscous, fragrant puddle of ruby beneath his feet. Hushed breaths of disbelief and awe trickled through the room when the rest of Alucard's body emerged before the three left standing (well, four if you count the whelp). All the while, a peculiar, blue glow began to radiate outward from the slaughtered vampire's corpse on the floor. It bathed almost the entire room in an ambient, sapphire light until the blue arabesques of flames had reduced the body to nothing but a heap of fine, gray ash.
Orange-tinted lenses no longer distorted the true ferocious intensity with which Alucard's ordinarily blood-red irises now glowed. No wide-brimmed hat obscured the distinguished features of his pale face, and his hair cascaded in flowing ebon strands down to the center of his back. His arms were no longer pulled through the sleeves of the long coat. Instead, the heavy garment simply lay draped over broad shoulders, bearing resemblance to a cloak; stained garnet in riverbeds of blood and lined with the mournful eyes of a thousand desperate souls forever lost to the abyss. Gripped firmly between the fingers of his glove-clad left hand remained the reflective silver body of the .454 Casull. Alucard allowed his gaze to drift over the ones who occupied the space of the room. A smile that bordered on demonically malicious began to grow upon his lips until his focus rested steadily on the vampire who still struggled to rise to his feet beside the expired werewolf girl. It was a truly pathetic sight to behold, the Count thought to himself, but the sole reason his attention now lingered on this particular one rather than any of the others was simply because of the substance he was painted with...and had very recently consumed. None of these clowns could be considered a threat, so why not chose the one that readily exhibited the most enticing aroma first? Managing to scramble to his feet, the lesser vampire clumsily retreated several steps, all the while hurrying to fumble a black, semi-automatic handgun from the back of his waistband. Several shots were fired from the crude pistol, but it was all in utter futility.
Alucard's form was upon him faster than the other was capable of visually registering. With white-gloved fingers coiled tightly around his throat, he rushed the bioengineered Freak of a creation into the nearest wall, pinning him there. A strained groan sprung from blood-stained lips while fanged teeth clenched after the gale-force sent him on a sudden and unexpected collision course with the cold stone behind him. A bit more pressure and Alucard might have easily pulverized his windpipe... a bit more pressure still, and vertebrae would shatter.... and any greater force applied past that would serve to barbarically decapitate him entirely. However, these were not the intentions sought after by the servant of Hellsing. Held there, helplessly pinned between the wall and the body of the elder, a staggering arm mustered enough strength to empty the remainder of the handgun's magazine into the right-hand side of Alucard's ribcage. The slide locked back, indicating that all the rounds were spent. Deep red liquid dripped from the punctures that riddled his side for merely a brief moment before all was restored to its previously pristine condition. Clearly, the crimson Count was in no mood to play around anymore. With the monstrous grace of a dangerous fiend, Alucard leaned in closer. An amused laugh growled mockingly from between slightly parted rows of moistened, sharp-edged teeth. The vampiric vermin's hoarse attempt at a choked, pleading scream was reduced to an arpeggio of dissonant gurgles and groans when razor canines ripped ravenously into the side of his throat. Tearing through skin, muscle, sinew, veins, and arteries alike, Alucard continued to chuckle like a madman. The essence spilling over his tongue tasted predominantly of the artificial, undead creation... and yet, lingering on his pallet were small hints of the enticingly exotic. Its effects were almost immediate, though merely a teasing fraction of the potency found in its purest form. As the makeshift vampire ceased his struggle at the hands of the monstrously imposing elder, the male who had nearly taken a shot to the head from the Casull's stray bullet, decided to make a run for it. "Screw this shit! I'm not dying here with the rest of you!" And with such words, shouted like a true coward, he pushed forcefully past the cracked door and bee-lined down the hallway toward freedom.
Alucard had taken it all; consumed the blood before absorbing the soul and the myriad of memories associated with it. He could feel the very essence of his being faintly tingling and every sense, each emotion was as though their volume had been turned up a notch. The exhilerating sensation catalyzed a greedy chuckle. This had merely been a sample, after all; Nothing more than an indulgent appetizer serving to moisten his pallet before the final feast.
The cowardly runaway hadn't gone unnoticed, but the vampire king had no current desires for playing games of cat and mouse. The Police Girl should be able to handle it. After all, if she chose to remain his undead servant, she might as well fulfill her role properly. Unspoken instructions laced themselves telepathically into the young Draculina's mind. Several seconds later, the deafening roar of the Harkonnen rattled the very foundation of the house, as though the roof itself had been struck with a massive bolt of lightning. "Target eliminated!" Alucard chuckled in sheer satisfaction as glowing eyes surrounding still dilated, predatory pupils watched the lifeless body remaining in his grip slowly burn away to elusive dust the same as the other. Now there was only one of the little parasites left to be dealt with before he could sink his teeth into that whimpering little whelp and alleviate the savage craving by devouring every last little drop.
While Alucard had been preoccupied with murderous intent, the leader of the three had swiped a short-bodied SMG, and Uzi be percise, from a crudely constructed wooden table in the far corners of the dark room. Retaining a certain air of confident arrogance, he raised the weapon toward the agent of Hellsing. "Shit! There's more of you bastards?! Ah well, I'll deal with that after I deal with you, now get ready to count the shells on your way to hell, fuckface!" Alucard had turned to face the assembly-line vampire with a fearsome grin, only to be greeted by a hailstorm of lead. Bullets ripped into flesh, splintered bone and shredded layers of fabric. Under normal circumstances, the Count would have toyed with the obnoxious parasite scum... He would have stumbled back, played dead, put on an act and feigned death to give the little bastard a glimmer of victory that could then be ripped away again before a merciless slaughter... But this circumstance wasn't quite an ordinary one. His mood for games was long gone. Alucard remained standing, blood leaking in thick trails from each bullet that had hit its mark. For a moment, the only sound which echoed through the room was the artificial vampire's maniacal laughter. However, it died down rather quickly once he realized that Alucard's injuries and even ruined clothing seemed to be mending themselves at an alarming rate... and the expression on the face framed by flowing black strands revealed hints of a rage the likes of which he had never seen. A deep, bestial growl rose from the depths of Alucard's throat. "Thirty one..."
The vermin invalid of a vampire barely finished hissing a confused 'what the fuck?' before he even realized that Alucard's figure no longer stood in the spot where it had, but within the blink of an eye managed to noiselessly relocate... behind him. The red-coated blood fiend coiled gloved fingers around the wrist of the hand which held the empty sub machine gun. Insignia imbued upon white fabric glowed a vibrant red as bones were pulled from their place, bending, snapping, shattering... until within the matter of one short-lived moment, the shoulder socket of the limb could take no more strain. A simple rotation of his wrist, and Alucard separated arm from body with little more effort it might take to twist off a roasted turkey leg. The green-eyed monster produced a harrowing scream that might have rivaled the scream of the werewolf pup if only it had been filled with more passion and despair. "STOP! I'll give you whatever you fucking want! Just don't kill me!" Pathetic... it was the epitome of pathetic. Fanged teeth snared shut while the severed limb was nonchalantly tossed to the side. Alucard didn't even think about stopping. On the contrary, all he could think about was bringing this to an end...which he could have done that very instant, though instead of aiming the sights of the Casull at his head, or his heart, he chose to lower it instead to fire a round which found its home in his left thigh. Embedded there, the blessed silver bullet continued to sear away at the unholy flesh as the green eyed Freak fell to his knees with another agonizing scream. Alucard allowed the large, reflective weapon to vanish beneath the fabric of his draped coat, all the while stepping into the other's field of vision to come to a stop in front of him. This little green-eyed prick and his entourage had wasted a rarity amongst blood, insulted him, shot at him, and wasted his time...quite frankly, he was pissed off. The wincing, cowering vampire who knelt groaning hunched over in the fetal position at Alucard's feet looked many times more pathetic than the youngling werewolf they had tormented. He reached down, seizing the other male's lower jaw, forcing him to sit upright and stare into a set of eyes that glowed like the bowels of a volcano.
"You had alot of fun gorging yourself. Now open wide..." The tyrannical words were made only more horrifying by the twisted, deranged grin painted on Alucard's features. The unmitigated terror grew in the expression of the other's wide, green eyes, like a calf once it's seen the slaughter-rod. Razor fanged teeth parted, widening that grin even further while the true vampiric beast reached down his other gloved hand to pry apart the pathetic creature's jaws. Joints were forced to unhinged as muscles tore and cartilage ripped, all accompanied by a cacophony of painfully guttural howls. Once the maw hung slack, Alucard didn't spare a moment of hesitation. Plunging his left hand down into the sufficient opening he'd created, he let fingers shred through soft tissue, impaling the deplorable peon until he breached the space that housed the heart. Digits coiled their way around the organ like a python to its prey. Slowly increasing pressure as though simply squeezing back on the trigger of a gun, the chambers violently ruptured and drained rapidly into the surrounding tissue. With an appalled sneer, Alucard withdrew his arm and watched the mangled creature topple to its side with a dull thud where it was left to lay in its own crimson mess until it too would inevitably turn to dust.
It was then that he could finally turn his attention the last remaining werewolf pup... who also, by some delightful coincidence, happened to be the last remaining supernatural entity which they had found in the town of Badrick. Long wisps of hair swayed like the draping red coat with every approaching step he took toward the small boy, who despite his true nature, appeared very convincingly human. Fiercely vicious eyes continued to glow like hot embers in the surrounding darkness; predatory, desirous, and carnal. Even if he'd been stricken blind he would have been able to find the pup merely by the freshly sustained cuts that welled with the warm, aromatic blood... and now it would be his to enjoy. The mere anticipation of this act alone was enough to provoke a seething chuckle. It would be a delightfully exquisite finale to the evening. He'd have to remember to thank Integra for this little excursion later...
Voices which may have sounded muffled or distorted to human ears drifted through the masonry now crystal clear to both the elder and the fledgling. The entire place appeared to be completely saturated with the teasing, subtle hints of the alluring scent he'd been following; lingering like the residual odors of a savory meal already cooked and consumed. Alucard and Seras suddenly both snapped the focus of their impeccable vision toward the end of the hallway that continued beyond the staircase, from whence they heard the wailing sound of a high pitched voice, crying out a name in abject despair. The young vampire felt a chill descend the length of her spine. Chasing the harrowing wail like a banshee echo, came a wave of the same lingering fragrance that surpassed its prior faint essence by a hundred fold with robust potency. Even Seras could now discern the difference between the particular scent and that of ordinary human blood. Her nostrils flared, sampling the stagnant air before she turned her attention over to Alucard. "That smell..." Her voice barely rose above a shaken whisper.
Alucard's reaction to the tidal-wave of sensory overload seemed to differ vastly from that of his young counterpart. Lips withdrew further from razor-fanged teeth. A voracious chuckle surfaced from his throat. Pupils dilated at the center of red irises now glowing like hot embers of a dormant fire, the kindling for which was a deep-seeded, fervent desire. He let the moistened tip of his tongue flick over sharply pointed canines with feral anticipation. The crimson Count pulled another covetous, deep breath into his lungs before he turned his attention back to his slightly puzzled fledgling. Without voicing a single syllable, Alucard stepped from her side and slipped into the enveloping shadows of the dark hallway. "Head upstairs and see if you find anything else." The words were not a verbal command, but rather one that wove itself seamlessly into the young vampire's thoughts and inner monologue, like a voice in her own head that she had no control over. It was that command which kept Seras from following him instinctively into the shadows that appeared to have completely swallowed him from her sight. It made sense, really. Split up and cover more ground. With newfound confidence and determination, the young Draculina tucked her oversized weapon under her right arm, supported its length with her left hand, and began her ascend to the top floor.
The advantage of manipulating shadows and being able to pass noiselessly through solid matter was that it provided creative alternatives for entering (and also exiting) certain places however he saw fit. The room he approached held his focus captive much the same way a predatory beast kept its eyes trained on its prey. Every one of his heightened senses tingled, undulating like the strings of a well-tuned instrument. There was no denying it now. Within the confines of that room was something he wanted; Something above, beyond, and yet still within the parameters of his given objectives; Something he wouldn't let anyone get in the way of obtaining. The very instant the last piercing scream forced its way from the remaining werewolf pup's throat, the entirety of the faintly illuminated room became shrouded in darkness. What few candles had been ingited to make up for the lack of functioning electricity flickered before being snuffed completely without the slightest gust of a breeze to speak of. Freaks... Bioengineered bottom feeders of the undead... The scum of the non-living who felt self entitled enough to proclaim themselves as true vampires... And the last bit of succulent puppy blood was about to be wasted on those parasites? Not a chance in hell.
The four males within the room exchanged puzzled glances, though showed little deterrence in their ultimate goal. One of the two men who had stood against the wall had sunk to his knees to lap his tongue voraciously over the pool of blood spilt from the girl's limp corpse before it could cool and lose its potency. Although their night-vision wasn't on par with that of the true undead, the presence of light was a simple convenience rather than a necessity. The one still kneeling over the young boy continued to keep a firm grip on the dainty neck. "Fucking lights... Who need's 'em anyway. Let's just have ourselves another snack before this squirmy little shit breaks his own fucking neck! After that we can get outta this shit-hole, maybe pick up some bitches for dessert... I've never felt this good in my whole fucking life!" The other three chimed-in their own choice words of agreement. With a deranged laugh, the male leaned further over the still writhing werewolf pup with the intense desire to taste the fresh crimson that welled from the symbol carved into the smooth skin. Though it was merely an instant before his tongue could make contact, that a deeply resonant growl of a voice echoed through each corner of the room, as though the darkness of the shadows themselves were capable of speaking.
"A snack? You parasitic invalids don't deserve such a feast as your last meal." Alucard watched as the male recoiled his tongue and straightened up a bit to let glowing green eyes dart about the room encased in darkness. The only light which lent the slightest sliver of illumination was a streak of pale silver that trickled in through a missing slat in the crudely boarded-up window. The others tensed visibly, attempting to determine exactly who the voice belonged to, and where exactly its owner could be hiding. The leader let loose a vexed growl, tightening his grip on the switchblade as he continued to look around from floor to ceiling. "What the fuck?! Who the hell are you and what the fuck do you want?! Get over here so I can kick the shit outta you for interrupting our dinner!" Consuming the hefty quantities of the potent crimson liquid appeared to have gone straight to his head. A disembodied, sadistic laugh of amusement flitted about the four walls. Alucard no longer cared about the immense pleasure he normally derived from exterminating this sort of pathetic vermin. It no longer mattered that ending their existence was a part of his assignment. The aroma and even the very sight of that youthful werewolf blood had set him on edge. It beckoned him seductively; calling upon memories of the exquisite emotional high that left him with a sense of tunnel-vision which focused his attention solely on what he now wanted.... craved... desired... So much had already been spilled and gone to waste. That knowledge alone threw fuel to the fire of his rage. That last whelp was his, and he wanted it now. "I'm your executioner."
The instant those words rushed past lips and razor fangs glistening with avarice, a seamless transition between solid matter and open space ensued. Through the stone wall which kept this room seperate from the adjacent one plunged a black-clad, left arm. Long, fingers hidden within white textiles curled around the grip of a massive, silver pistol. Without a second's hesitation or delay, his index finger flexed against the trigger. The muzzle flash produced by the discharged blessed bullet briefly lit the dark room with stark, white light as the thunderous sound which accompanied it reverberated in each crevice of the surrounding stone work. One of the two young male vampires who had lingered near the wall together was suddenly assaulted by an agonizing pain that bored its way from the base of his left shoulderblade, through his chest cavity, all the way through to the other side where the bullet explosively exited and continued its short trajectory until it struck the opposing wall, lodging itself into the masonry just inches from missing the head of the one who had been pacing impatiently along that side of the room. Blood projected in a wide arch from the massive exit wound. The space that once housed a heart was left as nothing more than an empty cavity, to the maimed flesh and protruding, shattered bones of which still clung lingering wisps of residual smoke.
The empty, large caliber metal casing struck the ground only seconds before the eviscerated vampire's body. Crimson leaked from his gasping, fanged maw with every succession of involuntary respiratory contractions. Their leader hissed a few obscenities under his breath and reluctantly released his hold on the pale-haired boy before rising confidently to his feet. This would at least grant the pup a chance to scramble and hide in a darkened corner whilst anxiously awaiting his fate. With mouth, face, and hands still smeared with slowly drying blood, the vampire who had been greedily tearing into the laceration along the dead girl's throat began scrambling backwards as well, though trying to stand upright proved somewhat difficult with a viscous, fragrant puddle of ruby beneath his feet. Hushed breaths of disbelief and awe trickled through the room when the rest of Alucard's body emerged before the three left standing (well, four if you count the whelp). All the while, a peculiar, blue glow began to radiate outward from the slaughtered vampire's corpse on the floor. It bathed almost the entire room in an ambient, sapphire light until the blue arabesques of flames had reduced the body to nothing but a heap of fine, gray ash.
Orange-tinted lenses no longer distorted the true ferocious intensity with which Alucard's ordinarily blood-red irises now glowed. No wide-brimmed hat obscured the distinguished features of his pale face, and his hair cascaded in flowing ebon strands down to the center of his back. His arms were no longer pulled through the sleeves of the long coat. Instead, the heavy garment simply lay draped over broad shoulders, bearing resemblance to a cloak; stained garnet in riverbeds of blood and lined with the mournful eyes of a thousand desperate souls forever lost to the abyss. Gripped firmly between the fingers of his glove-clad left hand remained the reflective silver body of the .454 Casull. Alucard allowed his gaze to drift over the ones who occupied the space of the room. A smile that bordered on demonically malicious began to grow upon his lips until his focus rested steadily on the vampire who still struggled to rise to his feet beside the expired werewolf girl. It was a truly pathetic sight to behold, the Count thought to himself, but the sole reason his attention now lingered on this particular one rather than any of the others was simply because of the substance he was painted with...and had very recently consumed. None of these clowns could be considered a threat, so why not chose the one that readily exhibited the most enticing aroma first? Managing to scramble to his feet, the lesser vampire clumsily retreated several steps, all the while hurrying to fumble a black, semi-automatic handgun from the back of his waistband. Several shots were fired from the crude pistol, but it was all in utter futility.
Alucard's form was upon him faster than the other was capable of visually registering. With white-gloved fingers coiled tightly around his throat, he rushed the bioengineered Freak of a creation into the nearest wall, pinning him there. A strained groan sprung from blood-stained lips while fanged teeth clenched after the gale-force sent him on a sudden and unexpected collision course with the cold stone behind him. A bit more pressure and Alucard might have easily pulverized his windpipe... a bit more pressure still, and vertebrae would shatter.... and any greater force applied past that would serve to barbarically decapitate him entirely. However, these were not the intentions sought after by the servant of Hellsing. Held there, helplessly pinned between the wall and the body of the elder, a staggering arm mustered enough strength to empty the remainder of the handgun's magazine into the right-hand side of Alucard's ribcage. The slide locked back, indicating that all the rounds were spent. Deep red liquid dripped from the punctures that riddled his side for merely a brief moment before all was restored to its previously pristine condition. Clearly, the crimson Count was in no mood to play around anymore. With the monstrous grace of a dangerous fiend, Alucard leaned in closer. An amused laugh growled mockingly from between slightly parted rows of moistened, sharp-edged teeth. The vampiric vermin's hoarse attempt at a choked, pleading scream was reduced to an arpeggio of dissonant gurgles and groans when razor canines ripped ravenously into the side of his throat. Tearing through skin, muscle, sinew, veins, and arteries alike, Alucard continued to chuckle like a madman. The essence spilling over his tongue tasted predominantly of the artificial, undead creation... and yet, lingering on his pallet were small hints of the enticingly exotic. Its effects were almost immediate, though merely a teasing fraction of the potency found in its purest form. As the makeshift vampire ceased his struggle at the hands of the monstrously imposing elder, the male who had nearly taken a shot to the head from the Casull's stray bullet, decided to make a run for it. "Screw this shit! I'm not dying here with the rest of you!" And with such words, shouted like a true coward, he pushed forcefully past the cracked door and bee-lined down the hallway toward freedom.
Alucard had taken it all; consumed the blood before absorbing the soul and the myriad of memories associated with it. He could feel the very essence of his being faintly tingling and every sense, each emotion was as though their volume had been turned up a notch. The exhilerating sensation catalyzed a greedy chuckle. This had merely been a sample, after all; Nothing more than an indulgent appetizer serving to moisten his pallet before the final feast.
The cowardly runaway hadn't gone unnoticed, but the vampire king had no current desires for playing games of cat and mouse. The Police Girl should be able to handle it. After all, if she chose to remain his undead servant, she might as well fulfill her role properly. Unspoken instructions laced themselves telepathically into the young Draculina's mind. Several seconds later, the deafening roar of the Harkonnen rattled the very foundation of the house, as though the roof itself had been struck with a massive bolt of lightning. "Target eliminated!" Alucard chuckled in sheer satisfaction as glowing eyes surrounding still dilated, predatory pupils watched the lifeless body remaining in his grip slowly burn away to elusive dust the same as the other. Now there was only one of the little parasites left to be dealt with before he could sink his teeth into that whimpering little whelp and alleviate the savage craving by devouring every last little drop.
While Alucard had been preoccupied with murderous intent, the leader of the three had swiped a short-bodied SMG, and Uzi be percise, from a crudely constructed wooden table in the far corners of the dark room. Retaining a certain air of confident arrogance, he raised the weapon toward the agent of Hellsing. "Shit! There's more of you bastards?! Ah well, I'll deal with that after I deal with you, now get ready to count the shells on your way to hell, fuckface!" Alucard had turned to face the assembly-line vampire with a fearsome grin, only to be greeted by a hailstorm of lead. Bullets ripped into flesh, splintered bone and shredded layers of fabric. Under normal circumstances, the Count would have toyed with the obnoxious parasite scum... He would have stumbled back, played dead, put on an act and feigned death to give the little bastard a glimmer of victory that could then be ripped away again before a merciless slaughter... But this circumstance wasn't quite an ordinary one. His mood for games was long gone. Alucard remained standing, blood leaking in thick trails from each bullet that had hit its mark. For a moment, the only sound which echoed through the room was the artificial vampire's maniacal laughter. However, it died down rather quickly once he realized that Alucard's injuries and even ruined clothing seemed to be mending themselves at an alarming rate... and the expression on the face framed by flowing black strands revealed hints of a rage the likes of which he had never seen. A deep, bestial growl rose from the depths of Alucard's throat. "Thirty one..."
The vermin invalid of a vampire barely finished hissing a confused 'what the fuck?' before he even realized that Alucard's figure no longer stood in the spot where it had, but within the blink of an eye managed to noiselessly relocate... behind him. The red-coated blood fiend coiled gloved fingers around the wrist of the hand which held the empty sub machine gun. Insignia imbued upon white fabric glowed a vibrant red as bones were pulled from their place, bending, snapping, shattering... until within the matter of one short-lived moment, the shoulder socket of the limb could take no more strain. A simple rotation of his wrist, and Alucard separated arm from body with little more effort it might take to twist off a roasted turkey leg. The green-eyed monster produced a harrowing scream that might have rivaled the scream of the werewolf pup if only it had been filled with more passion and despair. "STOP! I'll give you whatever you fucking want! Just don't kill me!" Pathetic... it was the epitome of pathetic. Fanged teeth snared shut while the severed limb was nonchalantly tossed to the side. Alucard didn't even think about stopping. On the contrary, all he could think about was bringing this to an end...which he could have done that very instant, though instead of aiming the sights of the Casull at his head, or his heart, he chose to lower it instead to fire a round which found its home in his left thigh. Embedded there, the blessed silver bullet continued to sear away at the unholy flesh as the green eyed Freak fell to his knees with another agonizing scream. Alucard allowed the large, reflective weapon to vanish beneath the fabric of his draped coat, all the while stepping into the other's field of vision to come to a stop in front of him. This little green-eyed prick and his entourage had wasted a rarity amongst blood, insulted him, shot at him, and wasted his time...quite frankly, he was pissed off. The wincing, cowering vampire who knelt groaning hunched over in the fetal position at Alucard's feet looked many times more pathetic than the youngling werewolf they had tormented. He reached down, seizing the other male's lower jaw, forcing him to sit upright and stare into a set of eyes that glowed like the bowels of a volcano.
"You had alot of fun gorging yourself. Now open wide..." The tyrannical words were made only more horrifying by the twisted, deranged grin painted on Alucard's features. The unmitigated terror grew in the expression of the other's wide, green eyes, like a calf once it's seen the slaughter-rod. Razor fanged teeth parted, widening that grin even further while the true vampiric beast reached down his other gloved hand to pry apart the pathetic creature's jaws. Joints were forced to unhinged as muscles tore and cartilage ripped, all accompanied by a cacophony of painfully guttural howls. Once the maw hung slack, Alucard didn't spare a moment of hesitation. Plunging his left hand down into the sufficient opening he'd created, he let fingers shred through soft tissue, impaling the deplorable peon until he breached the space that housed the heart. Digits coiled their way around the organ like a python to its prey. Slowly increasing pressure as though simply squeezing back on the trigger of a gun, the chambers violently ruptured and drained rapidly into the surrounding tissue. With an appalled sneer, Alucard withdrew his arm and watched the mangled creature topple to its side with a dull thud where it was left to lay in its own crimson mess until it too would inevitably turn to dust.
It was then that he could finally turn his attention the last remaining werewolf pup... who also, by some delightful coincidence, happened to be the last remaining supernatural entity which they had found in the town of Badrick. Long wisps of hair swayed like the draping red coat with every approaching step he took toward the small boy, who despite his true nature, appeared very convincingly human. Fiercely vicious eyes continued to glow like hot embers in the surrounding darkness; predatory, desirous, and carnal. Even if he'd been stricken blind he would have been able to find the pup merely by the freshly sustained cuts that welled with the warm, aromatic blood... and now it would be his to enjoy. The mere anticipation of this act alone was enough to provoke a seething chuckle. It would be a delightfully exquisite finale to the evening. He'd have to remember to thank Integra for this little excursion later...
The boy was quickly reduced to trembling and sniffling. The vampire over him just kept digging the wound in his back deeper and deeper, and was soon scraping bone with the knife. The others that were there simply stood by, watching. The pain was excruciating, but there was no energy left for the boy to fight. He was simply a ragdoll for the vampire to play with. The fear, the pain, it was all too much. It was just too much! The loss of light wasn't noticed by the boy until the vampires themselves said something about it. Slowly turning his head to the side, the boy forced one eye open. The room was dark. Almost too dark for the boy to see. It was almost as if the world itself snuffed out the light of the candles to show the boy there was no hope. The light at the end of the tunnel wasn't there. With the mass blood loss, the sheer exhaustion and the absolute desolation to the boy's emotions all taking their toll, the boy simply just didn't have the strength to live anymore. The shivering that wracked the boy's body stilled, as he himself did. His body fell limp, finally going numb. The boy's chest slowed its constant rise and fall, almost seeming as still as the rest of him. He felt light headed, dizzy. His body was cold, but the boy couldn't tell. The world around him dulled, the sounds went silent, his vision began to fade. Closing his eyes once more, the boy resigned himself to letting himself slip away. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep forever and let this all be done.
BANG!! Thunder screamed through the air, making the boy's tired heart stutter. His eyes snapped open, body rigid. The noise setting the boy on edge. It was far too close to be just thunder. The sound made the boy think of a cannon more than anything else. Turing his head, the boy saw red. It wasn't the red that painted the walls of his home in his family's blood. No, this was different. A coat. A crimson coat, worn by a man with a silver gun. He stood over the vampire that had been across the room, pinning him to the wall. It wasn't a second later that the man in red ripped out the vampire's throat. The boy watched with wide eyes, fear and hope both sparking back to life. Was this man helping him? Or was he one of them? The boy watched as the crimson man turned to the man that had been torturing him. He watched as the man shot the vampire in the leg. The man was toying with the vampire!! It had to be some kind of divine act that the vampire was now being tortured instead of being the torturer. That man in red had killed the vampires. He had to be a demon or something. He'd taken countless shots and it didn't even seem to faze him. Even though the man was killing the vampires, he too had called the young pup a feast, a snack. He was just food to that man as well.
The crimson man reached down, seizing the vampire's lower jaw, forcing him to sit upright and stare into a set of eyes that glowed like the bowels of a volcano. "You had a lot of fun gorging yourself. Now open wide..." Razor fanged teeth parted, widening that grin even further while the true vampiric beast reached down his other gloved hand to pry apart the pathetic creature's jaws. Joints were forced to unhinged as muscles tore and cartilage ripped. Plunging his left hand down into the sufficient opening he'd created, he let fingers shred through soft tissue, impaling the deplorable peon until he breached the space that housed the heart. Digits coiled their way around the organ like a python to its prey. Slowly increasing pressure as though simply squeezing back on the trigger of a gun, the chambers violently ruptured and drained rapidly into the surrounding tissue. With an appalled sneer, the man in red withdrew his arm and watched the mangled creature topple to its side with a dull thud where it was left to lay in its own crimson mess until it too would inevitably turn to dust. It was then that he could finally turn his attention the last remaining werewolf pup... who also, by some delightful coincidence, happened to be the last remaining supernatural entity which they had found in the town of Badrick. But as Alucard turned to face the pup... he was gone. All that was left was a puddle of blood smeared across the middle of the floor, and a trail of red drops leading out the door.
Down the hall, said pup was stumbling towards the stairs. His legs shook, hardly able to keep himself standing. It was by the sheer drive to survive that forced the boy's body to cooperate. He didn't want to die. He really didn't want to. With the vampire that attacked his pack gone, there was only the man with the red coat there. Maybe with all the damage he'd taken, he had to be at least a little tired. With that small flicker of hope, the boy ran. He wasn't sure how, but he was halfway down the hall, almost at the stairs. The sudden burst of energy that allowed him to run away was quickly fading and all of the exhaustion, pain and fear were coming back stronger than ever. The wound on his back had yet to close. Blood was still oozing from the wound, leaving a second skin of crimson down his back. The boy took in a shaking breath, only to let it go just as feebly. His vision suddenly blurred, the edges going dark. He didn't notice when a girl in a pseudo police uniform came up to the top of the stairs and turned into the hallway he was about to leave. They collided, sending the boy tumbling to the floor. Falling, the boy felt something jolt him and throw him off balance, making him fall faster. He tumbled until he felt almost upside down. His shoulder hit the corner of a stair hard, quickly followed by a dull pop. He slid down another stair, causing another pop, before he rolled head over heels down the stairs. He tumbled down, rolling several times. At one point, another (though much louder) pop resounded when the boy's knee hit the banister railing.
He continued to roll until he hit the ground floor of the house. He was still for moment or two before he let out a soft keening noise while a shudder wracked his body. It hurt. Why did it hurt? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he just get away? Was he really supposed to die here? With nothing left in him, the boy simply began to cry. Head turned into the floor, the boy's shoulders shook, jolting his whole frame. All the boy could do was wait for the crimson man to catch up to him and kill him. Little did he know that the reason for his tumble down the stairs rushed down the stairs to help the boy.
BANG!! Thunder screamed through the air, making the boy's tired heart stutter. His eyes snapped open, body rigid. The noise setting the boy on edge. It was far too close to be just thunder. The sound made the boy think of a cannon more than anything else. Turing his head, the boy saw red. It wasn't the red that painted the walls of his home in his family's blood. No, this was different. A coat. A crimson coat, worn by a man with a silver gun. He stood over the vampire that had been across the room, pinning him to the wall. It wasn't a second later that the man in red ripped out the vampire's throat. The boy watched with wide eyes, fear and hope both sparking back to life. Was this man helping him? Or was he one of them? The boy watched as the crimson man turned to the man that had been torturing him. He watched as the man shot the vampire in the leg. The man was toying with the vampire!! It had to be some kind of divine act that the vampire was now being tortured instead of being the torturer. That man in red had killed the vampires. He had to be a demon or something. He'd taken countless shots and it didn't even seem to faze him. Even though the man was killing the vampires, he too had called the young pup a feast, a snack. He was just food to that man as well.
The crimson man reached down, seizing the vampire's lower jaw, forcing him to sit upright and stare into a set of eyes that glowed like the bowels of a volcano. "You had a lot of fun gorging yourself. Now open wide..." Razor fanged teeth parted, widening that grin even further while the true vampiric beast reached down his other gloved hand to pry apart the pathetic creature's jaws. Joints were forced to unhinged as muscles tore and cartilage ripped. Plunging his left hand down into the sufficient opening he'd created, he let fingers shred through soft tissue, impaling the deplorable peon until he breached the space that housed the heart. Digits coiled their way around the organ like a python to its prey. Slowly increasing pressure as though simply squeezing back on the trigger of a gun, the chambers violently ruptured and drained rapidly into the surrounding tissue. With an appalled sneer, the man in red withdrew his arm and watched the mangled creature topple to its side with a dull thud where it was left to lay in its own crimson mess until it too would inevitably turn to dust. It was then that he could finally turn his attention the last remaining werewolf pup... who also, by some delightful coincidence, happened to be the last remaining supernatural entity which they had found in the town of Badrick. But as Alucard turned to face the pup... he was gone. All that was left was a puddle of blood smeared across the middle of the floor, and a trail of red drops leading out the door.
Down the hall, said pup was stumbling towards the stairs. His legs shook, hardly able to keep himself standing. It was by the sheer drive to survive that forced the boy's body to cooperate. He didn't want to die. He really didn't want to. With the vampire that attacked his pack gone, there was only the man with the red coat there. Maybe with all the damage he'd taken, he had to be at least a little tired. With that small flicker of hope, the boy ran. He wasn't sure how, but he was halfway down the hall, almost at the stairs. The sudden burst of energy that allowed him to run away was quickly fading and all of the exhaustion, pain and fear were coming back stronger than ever. The wound on his back had yet to close. Blood was still oozing from the wound, leaving a second skin of crimson down his back. The boy took in a shaking breath, only to let it go just as feebly. His vision suddenly blurred, the edges going dark. He didn't notice when a girl in a pseudo police uniform came up to the top of the stairs and turned into the hallway he was about to leave. They collided, sending the boy tumbling to the floor. Falling, the boy felt something jolt him and throw him off balance, making him fall faster. He tumbled until he felt almost upside down. His shoulder hit the corner of a stair hard, quickly followed by a dull pop. He slid down another stair, causing another pop, before he rolled head over heels down the stairs. He tumbled down, rolling several times. At one point, another (though much louder) pop resounded when the boy's knee hit the banister railing.
He continued to roll until he hit the ground floor of the house. He was still for moment or two before he let out a soft keening noise while a shudder wracked his body. It hurt. Why did it hurt? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he just get away? Was he really supposed to die here? With nothing left in him, the boy simply began to cry. Head turned into the floor, the boy's shoulders shook, jolting his whole frame. All the boy could do was wait for the crimson man to catch up to him and kill him. Little did he know that the reason for his tumble down the stairs rushed down the stairs to help the boy.
The king of vampires didn't look entirely pleased upon finding that the only thing left of his desired feast was only a pool of blood and a glistening trail that lead out of the room and into the hallway. A small growl of frustration trickled between his teeth. However, this was only a minor set-back. Sure the pup could run, but just how far was he going to get? With deep wounds dripping blood wherever he went, it was just like a trail of breadcrumbs that Alucard simply had to follow in order to find him again... Until they healed, of course. But, he wasn't about to wait that long. As the last of the vampires he'd killed finally burned to dust amid the blue swirl of flames, the red-clad Count stepped through the open doorway. This might actually be a rather fun alternative to simply cornering the whelp and bleeding him dry... This felt more feral and predatory; like the thrill of a hunt. Grinning once more he followed the fresh seductive scent, step for step. Then, from the top of stairs came a rather interesting succession of sounds; loud and clumsy as though someone had nudged a sack of potatoes from the first step, and watched it tumble all the way down. Perhaps the Police girl had found something? Leave it up to her to make the most amount of noise possible.
Seras had obediently wandered the second floor, searching room after room for any signs of life, or... un-life. It reminded her a little of her previous work when she was a police officer. However, it was the scene she came across in one of the bedrooms that truly struck home on a very personal note. The grown woman who's lifeless body draped half way over the edge of the tattered, blood soaked bed had obviously been violated before or after her slaughter... or perhaps both. Brutal memories from her own childhood flashed before her eyes. She knew from what Alucard had told her, that these weren't human beings. They were supernatural being capable of causing just as much death and destruction as vampires and their ghoul minions... If she and Alucard had shown up prior to this massacre, then they would have had the duty of taking their lives... But then why did all of this feel so...wrong? At least if they could have gotten here first, then these creatures would have been put to rest in a more dignified manner, and not like...this. She was torn from her thoughts by the sound of scrambling steps ascending the stairs. Was another one of those Freaks trying to get away? Or maybe they knew that she was there and were coming to attack her? If that was the case, she'd meet them head-on and show them what a real vampire was made of. The gruesome sight she'd come across had left her filled with a reminiscent anger. But when she stepped out into the hallway toward the stairs, what she found wasn't another vampire at all... The small body that harshly collided with her own was small, and completely streaked with blood that smelled exactly like that scent she'd caught downstairs before. "What the..." The impact had sent her back a step to catch her balance, but the small, frightful child had bounced right off of her and taken a stumble right back down the stairway from whence he'd come. "Oh no! I'm sorry!" Wincing as she watched the bloody, frightened bundle take a tumble side-over side down each weathered step, she began to race down after it. It hardly even registered in her mind that this wounded creature was one of them... and presumably the last survivor of the bloodbath this town had become. She had almost reached the young boy who lay at the bottom of the stairs, shoulders heaving with every whimper and sob that he expelled, when the large, shadowed figure of her master's body stepped into view. His eyes glowed with such a frightful ferocity that it had her stop dead in her tracks just two steps from the bottom.
Alucard had once again found what he wanted, though it had been hardly a challenge. Seeing the whelp curled up on the floorboards, and Seras descending toward him, it sparked some curiosities. Had she actually done this on purpose or not? Did she accept what had to be done, or had she been rushing to help the thing? Well, that was yet to be determined. Like a predator over its fallen prey, the elder vampire lowered himself to his knees beside the desperately weeping boy. Mercy, charity, generosity... these sentiments bore no meaning to him now. The scent of the fresh blood wafted from the small body, electrifying his sensed in preparation for what was to come. When he leaned closer still, long, black strands slipped over his shoulders and fell over the tormented youth like a shadowy curtain of death. Rows of pointed fangs parted, ready to welcome the warm, exotic reward running through the small creatures veins.
"Wait! Master! Please, stop it!" The girl's voice called from the stairs with a hint of urgency.
That voice... Alucard paused, every little fiber of his being seething with feral desire. A trecherous glare shifted up to his fledgling. This had better be good. He already had to waste his time dispatching three others before he could finally come to enjoy this very moment... and now he was being interrupted by his own undead servant?
"Please... He's just a child! " Seras had watched the elder obliterate countless ghouls, destroy other vampires, and ruthlessly tear apart human soldiers like they were nothing more than paper dolls. But this? Standing to watch him rip into a small creature that just witnessed the massacre of his entire family? She simply couldn't do it.
Alucard straightened his posture, curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist while he focused the attention of the enraged glare on his distraught fledgling. "I already told you what they are. Age doesn't change that fact, and we have our orders." His voice exhibited the low, resonant reverberations of a deep, bestial growl. It was clear that Alucard wasn't happy in the slightest about her taking a stance between him and his desired meal.
"...I know, but.... it just feels so wrong... He's not really a threat, is he? I mean, just look at him..." Her voice trembled slightly, whether it was out of fear or emotional distress. She hadn't seen her elder counterpart in a state like this since they had been in Brazil... It had frightened her then and it frightened her now, but this time, she couldn't just back down. She felt a connection with this injured boy clinging to the fringes of life and sanity.
"You idiot! What do you think he'll turn into when he gets older? Might as well take care of it now... before he turns bitter." Another string of growled words crept through a malicious grin while his glowing eyes darted back down to the heap of a werewolf pup. He had no pack left to take care of him. His existence would be nothing but a string of agonizing memories and loathing of the ones who had been the culprits. He might be able to hide for a while and survive... but eventually he'd slip up and make a mistake and then he would be hunted, killed, and claimed as someone's trophy. Why go through all of that?
The young Draculina's eyes began to well with tears. She fought them fiercely, her chest heaving with every breath as she looked sternly down into the relentless eyes of her master. "Do you really think that if Sir Integra were here, she would want this? Killing an orphaned little creature just because of what he is, or might become?"
His grin faded to a snarl. "She would do what needs to be done." Although the retort had left his lips without hesitation, Alucard couldn't help but wonder what the descendant of Abraham Van Hellsing would truly say if she herself bore witness to this scene. Had she ever actually laid eyes on a creature like this before?
"She didn't do it to me, after you brought me to her..." Her voice grew less bold, and took on an almost somber tone.
The Count's eyes narrowed sharply, though that fire which raged beyond them seemed to dull the slightest amount. Beginning to see his fledgling's logic, as well as the connection she felt to this creature due to her own traumatic childhood experiences, Alucard let out a deep sigh and rose to his feet. "That's different. You have a reliable mentor by your side." He let his eyes wander back to the boy at his feet. "I guess we can let her make the final decision, if that will get you to stop making such a fuss..." The elder vampire turned around on his heel and took several steps toward the moonlit doorway. "Just don't get your hopes up. Chances are she'll just make me take it in the back-yard and give it the 'Old Yeller' routine... Which will make me about as happy as it'll make you, because all that fantastic blood would just go to waste on a single, silver bullet.... So think carefully about the choice you're about to make, Police Girl."
The young vampire looked practically giddy. Not only was she happy to see her master break free from that state of rage, but was he really allowing her to take the boy in front of Sir Integra for a final verdict? Surely she could make an appeal to the woman. "I bet you're wrong, Master. Sir Integra won't do that... I just know it." And with that, she let the Harkonnen hang across her back with its strap firmly over her chest as she leaned down to run a gentle touch over the boy's pale hair.
Alucard stopped in the threshold of the doorway, his figure silhouetted by the light of the still rising moon. A scoffing laugh accompanied the hint of a smirk when he looked over his shoulder at the girl and the pup. It was a scene that appeared all too familiar in his memories now. "I bet you I'm right.... Now hurry up. And just so you know, you're carrying him home. He'll just slow us down otherwise." The blood-Count stepped from the doorway into the night, through the frightful display in the garden and back onto the path from which they had come. Slowly but surely, Seras would catch up to his leisurely stride and fall into rhythmic step at his side, like she always did.
Seras had obediently wandered the second floor, searching room after room for any signs of life, or... un-life. It reminded her a little of her previous work when she was a police officer. However, it was the scene she came across in one of the bedrooms that truly struck home on a very personal note. The grown woman who's lifeless body draped half way over the edge of the tattered, blood soaked bed had obviously been violated before or after her slaughter... or perhaps both. Brutal memories from her own childhood flashed before her eyes. She knew from what Alucard had told her, that these weren't human beings. They were supernatural being capable of causing just as much death and destruction as vampires and their ghoul minions... If she and Alucard had shown up prior to this massacre, then they would have had the duty of taking their lives... But then why did all of this feel so...wrong? At least if they could have gotten here first, then these creatures would have been put to rest in a more dignified manner, and not like...this. She was torn from her thoughts by the sound of scrambling steps ascending the stairs. Was another one of those Freaks trying to get away? Or maybe they knew that she was there and were coming to attack her? If that was the case, she'd meet them head-on and show them what a real vampire was made of. The gruesome sight she'd come across had left her filled with a reminiscent anger. But when she stepped out into the hallway toward the stairs, what she found wasn't another vampire at all... The small body that harshly collided with her own was small, and completely streaked with blood that smelled exactly like that scent she'd caught downstairs before. "What the..." The impact had sent her back a step to catch her balance, but the small, frightful child had bounced right off of her and taken a stumble right back down the stairway from whence he'd come. "Oh no! I'm sorry!" Wincing as she watched the bloody, frightened bundle take a tumble side-over side down each weathered step, she began to race down after it. It hardly even registered in her mind that this wounded creature was one of them... and presumably the last survivor of the bloodbath this town had become. She had almost reached the young boy who lay at the bottom of the stairs, shoulders heaving with every whimper and sob that he expelled, when the large, shadowed figure of her master's body stepped into view. His eyes glowed with such a frightful ferocity that it had her stop dead in her tracks just two steps from the bottom.
Alucard had once again found what he wanted, though it had been hardly a challenge. Seeing the whelp curled up on the floorboards, and Seras descending toward him, it sparked some curiosities. Had she actually done this on purpose or not? Did she accept what had to be done, or had she been rushing to help the thing? Well, that was yet to be determined. Like a predator over its fallen prey, the elder vampire lowered himself to his knees beside the desperately weeping boy. Mercy, charity, generosity... these sentiments bore no meaning to him now. The scent of the fresh blood wafted from the small body, electrifying his sensed in preparation for what was to come. When he leaned closer still, long, black strands slipped over his shoulders and fell over the tormented youth like a shadowy curtain of death. Rows of pointed fangs parted, ready to welcome the warm, exotic reward running through the small creatures veins.
"Wait! Master! Please, stop it!" The girl's voice called from the stairs with a hint of urgency.
That voice... Alucard paused, every little fiber of his being seething with feral desire. A trecherous glare shifted up to his fledgling. This had better be good. He already had to waste his time dispatching three others before he could finally come to enjoy this very moment... and now he was being interrupted by his own undead servant?
"Please... He's just a child! " Seras had watched the elder obliterate countless ghouls, destroy other vampires, and ruthlessly tear apart human soldiers like they were nothing more than paper dolls. But this? Standing to watch him rip into a small creature that just witnessed the massacre of his entire family? She simply couldn't do it.
Alucard straightened his posture, curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist while he focused the attention of the enraged glare on his distraught fledgling. "I already told you what they are. Age doesn't change that fact, and we have our orders." His voice exhibited the low, resonant reverberations of a deep, bestial growl. It was clear that Alucard wasn't happy in the slightest about her taking a stance between him and his desired meal.
"...I know, but.... it just feels so wrong... He's not really a threat, is he? I mean, just look at him..." Her voice trembled slightly, whether it was out of fear or emotional distress. She hadn't seen her elder counterpart in a state like this since they had been in Brazil... It had frightened her then and it frightened her now, but this time, she couldn't just back down. She felt a connection with this injured boy clinging to the fringes of life and sanity.
"You idiot! What do you think he'll turn into when he gets older? Might as well take care of it now... before he turns bitter." Another string of growled words crept through a malicious grin while his glowing eyes darted back down to the heap of a werewolf pup. He had no pack left to take care of him. His existence would be nothing but a string of agonizing memories and loathing of the ones who had been the culprits. He might be able to hide for a while and survive... but eventually he'd slip up and make a mistake and then he would be hunted, killed, and claimed as someone's trophy. Why go through all of that?
The young Draculina's eyes began to well with tears. She fought them fiercely, her chest heaving with every breath as she looked sternly down into the relentless eyes of her master. "Do you really think that if Sir Integra were here, she would want this? Killing an orphaned little creature just because of what he is, or might become?"
His grin faded to a snarl. "She would do what needs to be done." Although the retort had left his lips without hesitation, Alucard couldn't help but wonder what the descendant of Abraham Van Hellsing would truly say if she herself bore witness to this scene. Had she ever actually laid eyes on a creature like this before?
"She didn't do it to me, after you brought me to her..." Her voice grew less bold, and took on an almost somber tone.
The Count's eyes narrowed sharply, though that fire which raged beyond them seemed to dull the slightest amount. Beginning to see his fledgling's logic, as well as the connection she felt to this creature due to her own traumatic childhood experiences, Alucard let out a deep sigh and rose to his feet. "That's different. You have a reliable mentor by your side." He let his eyes wander back to the boy at his feet. "I guess we can let her make the final decision, if that will get you to stop making such a fuss..." The elder vampire turned around on his heel and took several steps toward the moonlit doorway. "Just don't get your hopes up. Chances are she'll just make me take it in the back-yard and give it the 'Old Yeller' routine... Which will make me about as happy as it'll make you, because all that fantastic blood would just go to waste on a single, silver bullet.... So think carefully about the choice you're about to make, Police Girl."
The young vampire looked practically giddy. Not only was she happy to see her master break free from that state of rage, but was he really allowing her to take the boy in front of Sir Integra for a final verdict? Surely she could make an appeal to the woman. "I bet you're wrong, Master. Sir Integra won't do that... I just know it." And with that, she let the Harkonnen hang across her back with its strap firmly over her chest as she leaned down to run a gentle touch over the boy's pale hair.
Alucard stopped in the threshold of the doorway, his figure silhouetted by the light of the still rising moon. A scoffing laugh accompanied the hint of a smirk when he looked over his shoulder at the girl and the pup. It was a scene that appeared all too familiar in his memories now. "I bet you I'm right.... Now hurry up. And just so you know, you're carrying him home. He'll just slow us down otherwise." The blood-Count stepped from the doorway into the night, through the frightful display in the garden and back onto the path from which they had come. Slowly but surely, Seras would catch up to his leisurely stride and fall into rhythmic step at his side, like she always did.
The cool embrace blanketed the boy's numb body as he laid in darkness. It was almost like he was floating in air, feeling the soft touch of a gentle breeze blowing by. The soft murmurings of the voices around him, were quiet, steady. It was comforting. It made the boy want to stay within the darkness forever. The voices were just loud enough for the boy to be able to tell that there was a male and a female talking. Curious, the boy listened harder. Were his parents trying to wake him up? Was he late for training today? Mr. O'Maley was going to have his hide if he was! Maybe he should feign sick instead. No, that would worry mom and Lily. Lily would get in trouble for skipping training too. The pup knew his older sister would come looking after him to make sure he was okay. After a while, the boy started to notice that the voices weren't any he knew. Neither of them sounded familiar. He heard a laugh and knew that there was a third person there too. He recognized that one. It was the voice of the guy with the red coat. The realization hit the boy like a runaway train. Memories from the night his family died flashed from all different times, watching them die all over again. Uncles, aunt ripped to pieces by the ear splitting rat-a-tat-tat from the vampires' guns. His father, the Alpha had killed four of them, in hopes to save his pack, only to end up the same. He was torn apart by the vampires, rib cage ripped open and organs strewn about the ground. The Alpha female, tried to gather all the pups and hide them away, inevitably cornering them all into her own house where each one died screaming in agony. Then his sister. Held by that twisted, cruel and heartless vampire. He watched, just as he did before, he watched the vampire sink his knife into her neck. He watched how it split the skin before it, leaving a nice straight line that reached from one side of her neck, to the other. He watched how the blood didn't just pour from his sister's neck, but sprayed in a red mist across the floor. The girl fell to the floor, her eyes dull and lifeless. Her own blood pooled around her head, soaking into her hair. The vampire that slit her throat bent over and lapped at the pool of blood, letting out a low growl. That growl turned into a low chuckle. The vampire looked up at the boy, but to his surprise, it wasn't the vampire's face. The face that glared up at the boy was the face of the man in red. His red eyes glowed and his fangs gleamed. The boy felt his blood run cold. A shiver shook the boy's frame. He stared into those crimson eyes, eyes akin to windows to Hell itself. The crimson vampire suddenly lunged. He rushed the boy and tackled him. The crimson vampire rolled with the boy, flipping twice and pinning the boy to the ground. One hand held the boy's body in place with firm weight to the boy's chest. The other wrapped itself around the boy's neck. Spidery fingers wrapped around the slim column of muscle, finger tips touching and sliding passed one another. Sliding up, the hand on the boy's neck pushed his chin upwards, forcing his head back and exposing his neck. The crimson man grinned like the Cheshire cat himself before rushing forward. Teeth sliced through skin, sinking deep into muscle and sinew. The boy's body bowed and bucked. He screamed as loud and long as his lungs could muster. A final jolt and the boy had rolled onto his side. He fell a few feet before landing solidly on the ground. The wind fled his lungs from the impact. He laid on the floor, stunned for a few moments, unsure where he was, what had happened, or even whether or not he was dead. Once he caught his breath, the boy slowly sat up and looked around. He was in a bedroom. Much bigger than his own. The bed was huge, enough for five of him across. There were a handful of pieces of furniture. A dresser, a nightstand and a desk, all made of a wood stained with a rich dark brown. The walls were painted a nice grass green, the windows that were on the other side of the room were almost the size of the wall itself. The sunlight that radiated into the room kept the room well lit. The room was comfortably warm. It was pleasant. But... where was he?
The return journey seemed slightly more strenuous, at least for Seras who not only bore the weight of the Harkonnen, but also carried an unconscious bundle wrapped in the cleanest blanket she was able to get her hands on. On top of that, trying to keep pace with Alucard proved to be a chore. The elder vampire had once again returned to his most common appearance. It had seemed to Seras as though she had only glanced down to the bundle in her arms for a mere blink and when her bright blue eyes returned to the male figure, he had already changed. Arms slipped completely through the red sleeves of his coat. Metal frames with shielded sides and orange lenses rested across the bridge of his nose. From the shadows cast by the wide-brimmed hat, only dark strands of messy, short hair danced and flicked with his rhythmic stride. 'Why 's he always do that?.... It's so awkward...' The young vampire questioned internally while quickening to a jog for several steps, catching up to her master's long stride. It wasn't so much that Alucard felt more eager about returning to headquarters than usual. His true reason for the hastened steps was solely to keep the lingering scent of the young werewolf's blood from being constantly thrown in his face. No need to let himself be taunted any further by an already irritating prospect.
They arrived at the Hellsing mansion slightly ahead of schedule. The first rays of sunlight wouldn't grace the sky for at least two more hours. Yet, from the steadfast shadows of the surrounding land, hymns of birdsongs drifted through the darkest hours, serving as spectral heralds of the coming dawn. Walter had opened the front door before Alucard reached the final stair. Interesting, he thought to himself when crimson oculars settled on the man he'd known for many decades as a trusted colleague. Considering their early arrival, he thought that certainly everyone else would still be sleeping blissfully. Something else must have come up.
"Welcome back, Master Alucard, Miss Victoria.... and...." The butler looked with some degree of concern to the bundle carried in Seras' arms, wrapped in a ragged, crimson dappled blanket that at one point might have been a lovely pastel blue. Alucard stepped over the threshold and past the old man, deciding to interject before Walter could get a chance to complete his hesitant statement. "It's a surprise... Hello Walter." At last, he stopped and turned around to let his gaze fall on the curious butler and his sheepishly blushing fledgling. Seras also mustered a nervously quiet and bashful 'Hello', poised like a kitten that brought a dead and mangled creature as a present for its master. The butler shot her a sceptical glance before clearing his throat, adjusting his monocle with gloved fingers, and finally turning toward the red-clad figure of Alucard. "Frankly, I was afraid you would say that, given the usual nature of your so-called 'surprises' ". It was this statement alone that transformed the vampire's rather humorless countenance into that of a mischievous charlatan. Lips creased with tell-tale signs of the butler's human age let go of a gentle sigh. Walter shot one more glimpse toward the blanket-wrapped mystery which bore uncanny resemblance to what he feared might be a child-sized body... a body showing no visible signs of life within the folds of the blood soiled drapery. But if this was indeed the case, and Alucard had chosen to bring it all the way back to London, then the old monster hunter knew without a doubt that there must be a very good reason for these actions.
Without much more delay, Alucard, accompanied by Walter and Seras, moved to the upper level, where Integra waited patiently in her office. She wasn't yet aware of the pair's homecoming, though expected it would inevitably happen before sunrise. When they entered, Integra's face was illuminated by the stark light of her computer screen, round spectacle lenses reflectively glowed bright white. A more soothing, warm light was cast from the two desk lamps and one standing lamp near an armchair in the far corner. An unlit cigar rested idly between the fingers of her right hand as though she had meant to ignite it but succumbed to distractions presented by various images floating among blocks of sans-serif plaintext. Alucard felt the tension of the woman's gaze the instant she looked up at him. "I didn't expect to see you back so soon."
The count donned his conventional grin whilst Walter strolled past him to bring the flame of a lighter against the tip of Integra's cigar. "And I didn't expect to see you up so late. You haven't slept, Miss Hellsing." Even from across the room and through the cloying cloud of the whelp's blood, Alucard could clearly sense the fatigue his master strove to conceal very convincingly otherwise. The only thing giving away Seras' presence at that very moment was the Harkonnen's massive barrel, which jutted toward the tall ceiling from directly behind the broad, red-clad shoulders of the elder vampire. If anyone were to take a wild guess that she was using Alucard's body for a crude attempt at hiding, they would be guessing correctly. At his back, Seras hugged the wrapped bundle tightly against her chest, silently praying that Integra would show compassion for the orphaned werewolf child. The boy's fate now rested solely on the woman's decision.
The head of Hellsing leaned back in her chair and took the first puff the now lit cigar. She was quite curious why Alucard's fledgling tried so desperately not to be seen, but considering her lack of sleep, wrote it off as just another one of the girl's quirky antics and moved right along to the point of the conversation. The quicker this was all resolved the better. "I had a lot of work to do." She began by saying, keeping her sky-colored oculars fixed upon her vampiric servant. Smoke curled from her lips with every syllable as she continued. "So tell me, Alucard, how was Badrick? Did you find anything out of the ordinary?" Thanks to the orange lenses glowing with reflections of the surrounding light, neither Integra nor Walter standing beside her chair could glimpse the blood-red eyes staring back at them; pupils once more dilated like a beast on the hunt. Vexed by the reluctant curbing of his appetite, tensed jaws snared his grin to the likeness of a jagged bear trap. Oh, how he wished she wouldn't stand so damn close while she was still holding on to that...thing. What a coward. Enough of that.
"It was a little livelier than I was expecting... in a sense at least." His right arm bent at the elbow with the gesture of a haphazard shrug. "Your hunch regarding the werewolves was correct. In fact, it seems like a small pack made itself right at home just after the previous incident there." As he verbalized his report, Alucard could feel the tension rise throughout the room by multiple degrees. It was like someone had just cranked up the heat-dial on the thermostat. Walter appeared both puzzled and shocked while Integra virtually slid to the edge of her seat in anticipation. Her pale, intensely focused eyes narrowed to a stern glare. "I see. So they ARE making a comeback then. I trust you eliminated them, as you were instructed." She took another puff from the end of the cigar before rolling the tip gently against the bottom of the ashtray, discarding excess ashes. The crimson Count allowed a dark chuckle to leave his lips. "Unfortunately, that wasn't necessary. We walked in on a handful of Millennium's trash playing exterminators, so at least it wasn't a completely joyless mission after all. The police girl even insisted on bringing back a little souvenir for you."
Integra and Walter were both well aware of the satirical, deprecating nature of Alucard's report. Something was definitely irritating the immortal count; getting under his skin, much like he was beginning to do to the sleep-deprived Miss Hellsing. Alucard stepped aside. Heavy red fabric withdrew like a theatrics curtain to reveal the young female vampire, and with a presentational gesture of his already raised, gloved hand, he forced her to take center-stage. Once Integra realized just how stained and ragged the lump of fabric in Seras' arms truly was, lids fluttered wide open. Was that blood? She wondered. It had to be... And what in God's name could she be holding on to in a fashion resembling a mother putting her sleeping child to bed? Eyes locked between human and vampire. Pale cheeks of un-dead flesh flushed with a touch of color before Seras hesitantly withdrew the shrouding textiles from around the boy's face. The cut in the shape of the inverted cross which streaked over the boy's closed eye had ceased bleeding. Youthful cheeks and strands of ashen hair retained stains of residual, coagulated crimson.
Integra felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of the motionless child. A faintly whispered "Oh my..." trickled from the Hellsing butler's lips. Within an instant, the woman shot up from her chair. A child?! She thought to herself. What on earth had happened in that small town in Ireland?! "What is the meaning of this, Alucard?! What the hell happened to that child?! Explain yourself... immediately!" Was THIS supposed to be the thing Alucard had referred to as a 'souvenir' just moments ago? And was it meant to be some sick idea of a joke to provoke an emotional response from her? Well, if it was, then it was most certainly working in his favor. That miscreant, vampiric bastard. How dare he! Her left hand slammed down harshly against the surface of her desk, while the other stubbed the cigar into the bottom of the ashtray with such force that the dried tobacco snapped in half. Pale eyes accentuated by furrowed brows glared at the crimson-cloaked male, demanding answers with dagger intensity. Through the swelling tension that crescendoed faster than a flash flood, Walter was beginning to piece together a thing or two about the true nature of this situation: The confirmation of werewolves in Badrick, the mysterious youngling nestled in the arms of the fledgling, the vexed and sardonic disposition displayed by Alucard after their return... He had witnessed this type of behavior before, and could safely conclude that he knew exactly what was happening here, yet decided to remain quiet until Alucard had a chance to produce the answers demanded of him.
Seras' eyes had grown wider, and she too now looked to her master, perhaps for guidance or comfort. The elevated volume of words being hurled through the open space had caused the whelp to produce a soft whimper despite his state of unconsciousness. Alucard unleashed a sadistic little chuckle while garnet oculars stared confidently back into Integra's. "What happened to it?" He began by saying, words sharp as the fangs they were spoken through. "Tortured and terrorized by the same filthy, undead rats who annihilated his entire pack. That 'child' as you called it, convincing as it might be, is far from that. He's the same as the rest of them: A werewolf." Integra stood frozen, still as a statue while her immortal servant's words sank in. Could it really be? She wondered. It looked so convincingly human.... yet again, so did Seras, despite her true nature. Finally, Walter stepped forward and spoke up. "Ma'am, pardon my interjection, but I'm afraid he is telling the truth. You see, young werewolves, prior to their first transformation, look and act no different than human children; call it a 'survival mechanism', if you will. Despite that, their regenerative capabilities are above human and their blood is said to have a very pleasurable effect on those of vampiric persuasion, similar to a highly potent drug." Adjusting his monocle, the butler directed a sideways glance toward Alucard who had turned his focus to the older human as he showered Integra with information.
"Yes, I remember. It's the same as it was written in my grandfather's journals and manuscripts." The woman's countenance had grown softer, much like her tone of voice returned to a more reserved volume. She supported the weight of her upper body on both arms, palms still pressed firmly against the surface of her desk. "But if this is the case, then why bring that... thing into my house?" Leering sapphire orbs stared inquisitively at the ancient vampire. Alucard could feel himself winning that bet he'd made with Seras back in Badrick just before their departure. Now that Integra was aware of the 'nature of the beast' so to speak, it surely wouldn't take much longer for her to decide on its swift and painless extermination. Crimson eyes wandered to Seras, who had remained uncomfortably quiet throughout the conversation. Maybe this would be a good time for her to finally speak up. After all, he reasoned, it wasn't like this had been his idea to begin with. If it had been up to him, the whelp would have breathed its last breath in that Badrick house along with the others. "I think that question should be answered by the police girl. It was her decision, which makes it hers to defend. She can speak for herself." Alucard shifted his weight before slowly moving from his fledgling's side to stand before the tall window overlooking the courtyard and training facilities. It wasn't that he was willfully turning his back from the young vampire, but it was a good chance for her to gain some confidence in herself by not only taking responsibility for her actions, but also learning to take a stance and defend them.
"I'm sorry, Sir Integra..." The young Draculina started out by saying, her voice quiet and a bit timid. Seras let her focus drift down to the closed eyes of the child-like young creature in her arms for a moment before fixing those deep blue eyes back on the older woman. "... but I couldn't just watch him be killed like the others... like all the rest of his family. I know he's not human, but it still just felt so wrong. He's orphaned now... just like I was." She sighed softly, collecting her thoughts before she continued on. "And maybe, with good care and proper lessons, he'll be on our side...and get a chance at a better life. I got one, so I think it's only fair..." The fledgling vampire's eyes were pleading with the woman who had stepped out from behind her desk and now approached her and the blanket wrapped werewolf whelp pensively.
While Integra studied the unconscious little beast, Walter spoke up once more. "Miss Victoria, compassionate as it may be, the idea of domesticating a true-born werewolf is simply preposterous. It can't be successfully done." The strawberry blonde girl looked between the woman and the butler with a notion of bitter desperation and even glanced to Alucard pleadingly. But the elder vampire remained still, his back turned to the remaining occupants of the room while he kept his observant gaze fixed through the window pane.
Seras was just about to open her mouth to spout some counter-argument she hadn't even really thought through all the way, but was quickly interrupted by Integra, who studiously stood looming over the reclined, injured werewolf whelp. "Walter..." She spoke with a calm, yet assertive manner. "... It hasn't been successfully done, that may be true. But that doesn't mean that it CAN'T be done." She tapped the first knuckle of her index finger contemplatively against the crest of her chin. It were these words which plucked Alucard's attention back to the ongoing conversation. Curiously, he turned his head to glance over his shoulder, lids narrowed over blood-red eyes which trained themselves on his master. Walter himself looked rather perplexed by what the Hellsing descendant was beginning to get at. Finally, she turned to face the butler fully, whisking a stray tendril of blonde hair over he shoulder. "Don't forget who we are, Walter. The Hellsing Organization has captured and harnessed the single most powerful supernatural creature in history... and turned him into an unparalleled asset." The smile which spread its way across her lips was clever and conniving in its nature. Her eyes flicked briefly to Alucard if only to make sure the vampire was paying close enough attention. "I doubt one single werewolf should prove too troublesome."
At last, she paced back around to her desk and noticed for the first time the manner in which the young fledgling vampire's face had lit up with sheer relief. "Walter, I will leave you in charge of his initial training. You've dealt with these creatures in the past. Seras Victoria, since this idea was initiated by you, it will be your responsibility to care for his overall well-being and integration into a team unit." Integra rested her intent gaze on the young woman, who immediately began to thank her profusely with a rather jovial tone. It almost seemed as though Integra had finished her instructions, though at last decided to add one more thing. "And Alucard..." She waited for the elder vampire to turn toward her, which he did begrudgingly with a somewhat disdainful sneer. "...your role in this little... pet project... is to keep things from getting out of control should this creature become too much for either Walter or Seras to safely handle. After all, we agreed that you are to be responsible for your fledgling... who apparently has inherited your new-found impulse to bring home hopeless cases." Integra's lips twitched with a smirk as she glared sternly at the dissatisfied Count who still couldn't quite believe he was hearing the words that were coming out of her mouth. Oh, he could most definitely keep things from getting out of hand, Alucard thought to himself. Hell, he could do that in much less time than it would take for Integra to shout a command for him to stop... THAT would be the true definition of incident prevention. On the other hand, a werewolf trained and perhaps even enhanced by Hellsing, much as he himself had been; a supernatural being from birth... might prove to be a very worthy ally... or if he was lucky, an even worthier adversary. A straight-faced and narrow-lidded expression slowly turned to one of somewhat deranged elation while he let his thoughts linger on the fantasy of being locked into battle with another beast forged, honed, and harnessed by the organization.
"You never fail to amaze me, Miss Hellsing." He spoke calmly through that remaining, possibly even disingenuous grin. "Time will tell which is the more hopeless of the two, I suppose." A sideways glance shot to Seras and the whelp briefly before the Count's maliciously unsettling grin faded to a more deceivingly sincere, fanged smile. "Based on your instructions, there is nothing else for me to do here right now... so I'll be going to my room..." Alucard had already taken his first steps toward the most shadow-bathed corner of the large room and just before he seemingly melded completely with the absence of light itself, mumbled syllables of words resembling "...where it doesn't smell like pure frustration and inefficacy..." were probably only fully discernible by Seras' heightened sense of hearing. Leave it to the others to clean up the mess and find the little beast a suitable place to recover. As far as Alucard was concerned, this was by no means his problem or responsibility. The only thing left for him to do was get comfortable in his chair, drink a couple of glasses of Hellsing's signature 'wine' to help rid his sensory pallet of that provocative smell, and ultimately slip into a hopefully dreamless sleep for the duration of daylight.
They arrived at the Hellsing mansion slightly ahead of schedule. The first rays of sunlight wouldn't grace the sky for at least two more hours. Yet, from the steadfast shadows of the surrounding land, hymns of birdsongs drifted through the darkest hours, serving as spectral heralds of the coming dawn. Walter had opened the front door before Alucard reached the final stair. Interesting, he thought to himself when crimson oculars settled on the man he'd known for many decades as a trusted colleague. Considering their early arrival, he thought that certainly everyone else would still be sleeping blissfully. Something else must have come up.
"Welcome back, Master Alucard, Miss Victoria.... and...." The butler looked with some degree of concern to the bundle carried in Seras' arms, wrapped in a ragged, crimson dappled blanket that at one point might have been a lovely pastel blue. Alucard stepped over the threshold and past the old man, deciding to interject before Walter could get a chance to complete his hesitant statement. "It's a surprise... Hello Walter." At last, he stopped and turned around to let his gaze fall on the curious butler and his sheepishly blushing fledgling. Seras also mustered a nervously quiet and bashful 'Hello', poised like a kitten that brought a dead and mangled creature as a present for its master. The butler shot her a sceptical glance before clearing his throat, adjusting his monocle with gloved fingers, and finally turning toward the red-clad figure of Alucard. "Frankly, I was afraid you would say that, given the usual nature of your so-called 'surprises' ". It was this statement alone that transformed the vampire's rather humorless countenance into that of a mischievous charlatan. Lips creased with tell-tale signs of the butler's human age let go of a gentle sigh. Walter shot one more glimpse toward the blanket-wrapped mystery which bore uncanny resemblance to what he feared might be a child-sized body... a body showing no visible signs of life within the folds of the blood soiled drapery. But if this was indeed the case, and Alucard had chosen to bring it all the way back to London, then the old monster hunter knew without a doubt that there must be a very good reason for these actions.
Without much more delay, Alucard, accompanied by Walter and Seras, moved to the upper level, where Integra waited patiently in her office. She wasn't yet aware of the pair's homecoming, though expected it would inevitably happen before sunrise. When they entered, Integra's face was illuminated by the stark light of her computer screen, round spectacle lenses reflectively glowed bright white. A more soothing, warm light was cast from the two desk lamps and one standing lamp near an armchair in the far corner. An unlit cigar rested idly between the fingers of her right hand as though she had meant to ignite it but succumbed to distractions presented by various images floating among blocks of sans-serif plaintext. Alucard felt the tension of the woman's gaze the instant she looked up at him. "I didn't expect to see you back so soon."
The count donned his conventional grin whilst Walter strolled past him to bring the flame of a lighter against the tip of Integra's cigar. "And I didn't expect to see you up so late. You haven't slept, Miss Hellsing." Even from across the room and through the cloying cloud of the whelp's blood, Alucard could clearly sense the fatigue his master strove to conceal very convincingly otherwise. The only thing giving away Seras' presence at that very moment was the Harkonnen's massive barrel, which jutted toward the tall ceiling from directly behind the broad, red-clad shoulders of the elder vampire. If anyone were to take a wild guess that she was using Alucard's body for a crude attempt at hiding, they would be guessing correctly. At his back, Seras hugged the wrapped bundle tightly against her chest, silently praying that Integra would show compassion for the orphaned werewolf child. The boy's fate now rested solely on the woman's decision.
The head of Hellsing leaned back in her chair and took the first puff the now lit cigar. She was quite curious why Alucard's fledgling tried so desperately not to be seen, but considering her lack of sleep, wrote it off as just another one of the girl's quirky antics and moved right along to the point of the conversation. The quicker this was all resolved the better. "I had a lot of work to do." She began by saying, keeping her sky-colored oculars fixed upon her vampiric servant. Smoke curled from her lips with every syllable as she continued. "So tell me, Alucard, how was Badrick? Did you find anything out of the ordinary?" Thanks to the orange lenses glowing with reflections of the surrounding light, neither Integra nor Walter standing beside her chair could glimpse the blood-red eyes staring back at them; pupils once more dilated like a beast on the hunt. Vexed by the reluctant curbing of his appetite, tensed jaws snared his grin to the likeness of a jagged bear trap. Oh, how he wished she wouldn't stand so damn close while she was still holding on to that...thing. What a coward. Enough of that.
"It was a little livelier than I was expecting... in a sense at least." His right arm bent at the elbow with the gesture of a haphazard shrug. "Your hunch regarding the werewolves was correct. In fact, it seems like a small pack made itself right at home just after the previous incident there." As he verbalized his report, Alucard could feel the tension rise throughout the room by multiple degrees. It was like someone had just cranked up the heat-dial on the thermostat. Walter appeared both puzzled and shocked while Integra virtually slid to the edge of her seat in anticipation. Her pale, intensely focused eyes narrowed to a stern glare. "I see. So they ARE making a comeback then. I trust you eliminated them, as you were instructed." She took another puff from the end of the cigar before rolling the tip gently against the bottom of the ashtray, discarding excess ashes. The crimson Count allowed a dark chuckle to leave his lips. "Unfortunately, that wasn't necessary. We walked in on a handful of Millennium's trash playing exterminators, so at least it wasn't a completely joyless mission after all. The police girl even insisted on bringing back a little souvenir for you."
Integra and Walter were both well aware of the satirical, deprecating nature of Alucard's report. Something was definitely irritating the immortal count; getting under his skin, much like he was beginning to do to the sleep-deprived Miss Hellsing. Alucard stepped aside. Heavy red fabric withdrew like a theatrics curtain to reveal the young female vampire, and with a presentational gesture of his already raised, gloved hand, he forced her to take center-stage. Once Integra realized just how stained and ragged the lump of fabric in Seras' arms truly was, lids fluttered wide open. Was that blood? She wondered. It had to be... And what in God's name could she be holding on to in a fashion resembling a mother putting her sleeping child to bed? Eyes locked between human and vampire. Pale cheeks of un-dead flesh flushed with a touch of color before Seras hesitantly withdrew the shrouding textiles from around the boy's face. The cut in the shape of the inverted cross which streaked over the boy's closed eye had ceased bleeding. Youthful cheeks and strands of ashen hair retained stains of residual, coagulated crimson.
Integra felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of the motionless child. A faintly whispered "Oh my..." trickled from the Hellsing butler's lips. Within an instant, the woman shot up from her chair. A child?! She thought to herself. What on earth had happened in that small town in Ireland?! "What is the meaning of this, Alucard?! What the hell happened to that child?! Explain yourself... immediately!" Was THIS supposed to be the thing Alucard had referred to as a 'souvenir' just moments ago? And was it meant to be some sick idea of a joke to provoke an emotional response from her? Well, if it was, then it was most certainly working in his favor. That miscreant, vampiric bastard. How dare he! Her left hand slammed down harshly against the surface of her desk, while the other stubbed the cigar into the bottom of the ashtray with such force that the dried tobacco snapped in half. Pale eyes accentuated by furrowed brows glared at the crimson-cloaked male, demanding answers with dagger intensity. Through the swelling tension that crescendoed faster than a flash flood, Walter was beginning to piece together a thing or two about the true nature of this situation: The confirmation of werewolves in Badrick, the mysterious youngling nestled in the arms of the fledgling, the vexed and sardonic disposition displayed by Alucard after their return... He had witnessed this type of behavior before, and could safely conclude that he knew exactly what was happening here, yet decided to remain quiet until Alucard had a chance to produce the answers demanded of him.
Seras' eyes had grown wider, and she too now looked to her master, perhaps for guidance or comfort. The elevated volume of words being hurled through the open space had caused the whelp to produce a soft whimper despite his state of unconsciousness. Alucard unleashed a sadistic little chuckle while garnet oculars stared confidently back into Integra's. "What happened to it?" He began by saying, words sharp as the fangs they were spoken through. "Tortured and terrorized by the same filthy, undead rats who annihilated his entire pack. That 'child' as you called it, convincing as it might be, is far from that. He's the same as the rest of them: A werewolf." Integra stood frozen, still as a statue while her immortal servant's words sank in. Could it really be? She wondered. It looked so convincingly human.... yet again, so did Seras, despite her true nature. Finally, Walter stepped forward and spoke up. "Ma'am, pardon my interjection, but I'm afraid he is telling the truth. You see, young werewolves, prior to their first transformation, look and act no different than human children; call it a 'survival mechanism', if you will. Despite that, their regenerative capabilities are above human and their blood is said to have a very pleasurable effect on those of vampiric persuasion, similar to a highly potent drug." Adjusting his monocle, the butler directed a sideways glance toward Alucard who had turned his focus to the older human as he showered Integra with information.
"Yes, I remember. It's the same as it was written in my grandfather's journals and manuscripts." The woman's countenance had grown softer, much like her tone of voice returned to a more reserved volume. She supported the weight of her upper body on both arms, palms still pressed firmly against the surface of her desk. "But if this is the case, then why bring that... thing into my house?" Leering sapphire orbs stared inquisitively at the ancient vampire. Alucard could feel himself winning that bet he'd made with Seras back in Badrick just before their departure. Now that Integra was aware of the 'nature of the beast' so to speak, it surely wouldn't take much longer for her to decide on its swift and painless extermination. Crimson eyes wandered to Seras, who had remained uncomfortably quiet throughout the conversation. Maybe this would be a good time for her to finally speak up. After all, he reasoned, it wasn't like this had been his idea to begin with. If it had been up to him, the whelp would have breathed its last breath in that Badrick house along with the others. "I think that question should be answered by the police girl. It was her decision, which makes it hers to defend. She can speak for herself." Alucard shifted his weight before slowly moving from his fledgling's side to stand before the tall window overlooking the courtyard and training facilities. It wasn't that he was willfully turning his back from the young vampire, but it was a good chance for her to gain some confidence in herself by not only taking responsibility for her actions, but also learning to take a stance and defend them.
"I'm sorry, Sir Integra..." The young Draculina started out by saying, her voice quiet and a bit timid. Seras let her focus drift down to the closed eyes of the child-like young creature in her arms for a moment before fixing those deep blue eyes back on the older woman. "... but I couldn't just watch him be killed like the others... like all the rest of his family. I know he's not human, but it still just felt so wrong. He's orphaned now... just like I was." She sighed softly, collecting her thoughts before she continued on. "And maybe, with good care and proper lessons, he'll be on our side...and get a chance at a better life. I got one, so I think it's only fair..." The fledgling vampire's eyes were pleading with the woman who had stepped out from behind her desk and now approached her and the blanket wrapped werewolf whelp pensively.
While Integra studied the unconscious little beast, Walter spoke up once more. "Miss Victoria, compassionate as it may be, the idea of domesticating a true-born werewolf is simply preposterous. It can't be successfully done." The strawberry blonde girl looked between the woman and the butler with a notion of bitter desperation and even glanced to Alucard pleadingly. But the elder vampire remained still, his back turned to the remaining occupants of the room while he kept his observant gaze fixed through the window pane.
Seras was just about to open her mouth to spout some counter-argument she hadn't even really thought through all the way, but was quickly interrupted by Integra, who studiously stood looming over the reclined, injured werewolf whelp. "Walter..." She spoke with a calm, yet assertive manner. "... It hasn't been successfully done, that may be true. But that doesn't mean that it CAN'T be done." She tapped the first knuckle of her index finger contemplatively against the crest of her chin. It were these words which plucked Alucard's attention back to the ongoing conversation. Curiously, he turned his head to glance over his shoulder, lids narrowed over blood-red eyes which trained themselves on his master. Walter himself looked rather perplexed by what the Hellsing descendant was beginning to get at. Finally, she turned to face the butler fully, whisking a stray tendril of blonde hair over he shoulder. "Don't forget who we are, Walter. The Hellsing Organization has captured and harnessed the single most powerful supernatural creature in history... and turned him into an unparalleled asset." The smile which spread its way across her lips was clever and conniving in its nature. Her eyes flicked briefly to Alucard if only to make sure the vampire was paying close enough attention. "I doubt one single werewolf should prove too troublesome."
At last, she paced back around to her desk and noticed for the first time the manner in which the young fledgling vampire's face had lit up with sheer relief. "Walter, I will leave you in charge of his initial training. You've dealt with these creatures in the past. Seras Victoria, since this idea was initiated by you, it will be your responsibility to care for his overall well-being and integration into a team unit." Integra rested her intent gaze on the young woman, who immediately began to thank her profusely with a rather jovial tone. It almost seemed as though Integra had finished her instructions, though at last decided to add one more thing. "And Alucard..." She waited for the elder vampire to turn toward her, which he did begrudgingly with a somewhat disdainful sneer. "...your role in this little... pet project... is to keep things from getting out of control should this creature become too much for either Walter or Seras to safely handle. After all, we agreed that you are to be responsible for your fledgling... who apparently has inherited your new-found impulse to bring home hopeless cases." Integra's lips twitched with a smirk as she glared sternly at the dissatisfied Count who still couldn't quite believe he was hearing the words that were coming out of her mouth. Oh, he could most definitely keep things from getting out of hand, Alucard thought to himself. Hell, he could do that in much less time than it would take for Integra to shout a command for him to stop... THAT would be the true definition of incident prevention. On the other hand, a werewolf trained and perhaps even enhanced by Hellsing, much as he himself had been; a supernatural being from birth... might prove to be a very worthy ally... or if he was lucky, an even worthier adversary. A straight-faced and narrow-lidded expression slowly turned to one of somewhat deranged elation while he let his thoughts linger on the fantasy of being locked into battle with another beast forged, honed, and harnessed by the organization.
"You never fail to amaze me, Miss Hellsing." He spoke calmly through that remaining, possibly even disingenuous grin. "Time will tell which is the more hopeless of the two, I suppose." A sideways glance shot to Seras and the whelp briefly before the Count's maliciously unsettling grin faded to a more deceivingly sincere, fanged smile. "Based on your instructions, there is nothing else for me to do here right now... so I'll be going to my room..." Alucard had already taken his first steps toward the most shadow-bathed corner of the large room and just before he seemingly melded completely with the absence of light itself, mumbled syllables of words resembling "...where it doesn't smell like pure frustration and inefficacy..." were probably only fully discernible by Seras' heightened sense of hearing. Leave it to the others to clean up the mess and find the little beast a suitable place to recover. As far as Alucard was concerned, this was by no means his problem or responsibility. The only thing left for him to do was get comfortable in his chair, drink a couple of glasses of Hellsing's signature 'wine' to help rid his sensory pallet of that provocative smell, and ultimately slip into a hopefully dreamless sleep for the duration of daylight.
Silently, almost as if death really had touched the boy, he laid unmoving, in the female vampire's arms. The blanket, now pulled back to reveal his marred face, revealed the young boy to the other occupants of the room. The deep scar on his face, though now closed, was caked in dried blood, along with most of the side of his face. With as much blood as he had lost, along with the exhaustion and abuse, the boy could easily be mistaken for a corpse. Yet the faint puffs of air coming from his nose, gave the boy's life away. He was still alive, though only just. The cold stung the wound on his face, making the boy's face contort into a weak grimace.
With all the shouting and high strung emotions, the boy began pulling himself out of the black abyss his unconscious mind left him in. Voices echoed in a dull murmur, hardly able to recognize. He could hear the others in the room speaking. Most of what they were saying was slurred and murmured. It was difficult for his partially conscious mind to understand. "He's orphaned now... just like I was..." The voice was clear enough to make out the words. It sounded soft and scared. As if he was trying to agree, the boy's back arched and he squirmed in the female vampire's grip. An almost inaudible whine echoed from his throat, as the boy turned away from the open air and buried into the female vampire's bosom. It was a few moments before he stilled. His eyes slid open, blinking slowly, once, twice before sliding closed once again, body falling limp once more. He fell once more back into the black abyss of his subconscious.
A shiver shook the boy's frame. He stared into those crimson eyes, eyes akin to windows to Hell itself. The crimson vampire suddenly lunged. He rushed the boy and tackled him. The crimson vampire rolled with the boy, flipping twice and pinning the boy to the ground. One hand held the boy's body in place with firm weight to the boy's chest. The other wrapped itself around the boy's neck. Spidery fingers wrapped around the slim column of muscle, finger tips touching and sliding passed one another. Sliding up, the hand on the boy's neck pushed his chin upwards, forcing his head back and exposing his neck. The crimson man grinned like the Cheshire cat himself before rushing forward. Teeth sliced through skin, sinking deep into muscle and sinew. The boy's body bowed and bucked. He screamed as loud and long as his lungs could muster.
A final jolt and the boy had rolled onto his side. He fell a few feet before landing solidly on the ground. The wind fled his lungs from the impact. He laid on the floor, stunned for a few moments, unsure where he was, what had happened, or even whether or not he was dead. Once he caught his breath, the boy slowly sat up and looked around. He was in a bedroom. Much bigger than his own. Where was he? He didn't know. Panting and shivering, the boy realized that the room smelled like humans. There was a faint hint of the crimson vampire... which scared the boy. Why were there humans living with the vampire? Did the vampire take him back to some kind of nest or something? Did he plan on using him as a blood doll? His Father had warned him about that once. "Don't ever go to a vampire's lair. They will cage you and use you. They will feed off you as long as they can, make you a blood doll." His Father's words rang out in his head. His heart sank into his stomach. Shrinking into himself, the boy thought of trying to escape. Maybe he could get out through the window and run?
The sound of the door opening had the boy turning towards it and seeing an old man in a white shirt, black vest and slacks. His hair was kind of long, tied back in a ponytail. The man had burst into the room, letting the door fly open as he ran inside. A look of fear took over the man's features when he looked at the bed, but was soon forsaken for a more relaxed look when he saw the boy next to the bed. "You really shouldn't be out of bed, young one. Your injuries aren't even close to being healed." He moved towards the boy to help him back onto the bed. The boy drew inwards, taking a few steps back as the man neared him, a small growl rolling from his chest. "Now, now, there's no need for that. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but you need to rest or your wounds will reopen." The old man stopped moving and stood there for a moment, watching the boy. When the boy didn't move, a sigh escaped the man and he moved again, getting closer to the boy. In response, the boy shrank into himself more. He backed against the wall. His small growl growing louder. It was obvious by the sound alone that he was unsure and still very much scared. His growling got louder as the old man drew closer to him. The boy didn't have anywhere to go.
Being wedged between a bed and a wall and back against another wall, he didn't have any room to move. Baring his teeth, the boy hoped that he would get the old man to back off and leave him alone. "There's no need to make such a fuss. No one is going to hurt you." Undeterred, the man took a few steps closer before kneeling. He was just out of (his) arm's reach of the boy. He stayed on the floor for a moment or so before extending his hand for the boy. Seeing as the boy had canine qualities (as seen with his current behavior), he figured that maybe it would be best to allow the boy to know that he was safe. The man knew that dogs, especially wolves, had a higher sense of smell than humans. Not only being more keen in picking up smells and such, but also able to sense emotions through one's scent. It was how dogs (and most other animals) were able to decide whether or not they liked a person. "It's alright. Don't be scared." He said smiling softly. He wanted the boy to calm down before he hurt himself even more. The man was quite surprised at the boy since he'd lost almost enough blood to kill him, and yet he was up and moving about in only a day. He reached just a bit farther for the boy, hoping to make the boy see he wasn't going to harm him.
With a quick glance from the man's hand to his face and back again, the boy struck out. A loud bark and a snap of teeth at the man's hand had the boy launching forwards. His attack caused the man to pull back and lose his balance. He fell back, leaving enough space for the boy to slip through and run. The boy took the opportunity and ran for the open door of the bedroom. He bolted out of the room and into the hallway, hoping that he'd taken the way that led to the front door. The man soon regained his balance and was up on his feet. He quickly moved to the intercom in the room and dialed a code. Once connected, the speaker echoed with a female voice from the other end. "This had better be important, Sir Pennwood is in my office and you're interrupting an important meeting." The man smiled at the woman's tone and mentally chuckled. "Forgive me, Sir. you requested I inform you when the boy is awake. He's currently dashing through the halls, in what I assume is an attempt to escape an unknown environment." "WHAT?! Catch him! Sedate him if necessary. I don't want my staff bitten! That includes you Walter! Now get going!" The man gave a small nod, though the woman couldn't see and replied with a simple, "Right away." before following after the boy, down the hall.
The boy needed to get away. He didn't want to be fed to the vampires here. He didn't want to have to wonder when he was going to be killed. Were they going to do it right away, or bleed him for as much as they could get before his body finally gave out and died? He didn't know and had no intention of finding out. He ran down the hall as far as it would go before he skidded around a corner to keep going. The hardwood floors were slippery and didn't give the boy much traction. He ran through the new hall and soon found stairs. Feeling a bit hopeful, he bolted down the stairs and down the following hallway. He skidded down the last few steps, but it wasn't enough to slow him down. He stumbled a bit to regain his footing, but was soon back to running down the hall.
He kept going, as fast as he could down the hall. He wasn't stopping for anything. He turned quickly to see how far the old man had caught up to him. The man was just turning into the hall, while he was already almost rounding the next corner. Good, he only close enough to be in vocal range, if he yelled. The boy turned back to keep running and saw green. His head slammed into something hard and rebounded, hitting the ground with a yelp. He fell to the floor and heard someone else yelling in pain. The boy opened his eyes and looked up towards the new voice. He had to take a second to blink the blur from his eyes, but once it cleared he saw a group of men, soldiers, and one of them was hunched over, clutching his knee. The one who the boy had hit had short grayish black hair, with matching mustache and glasses. (
guy on the far right) The man smelled like smoke and ash, and he kept saying words the boy didn't understand. The boy scrambled to his feet and backed away, soon feeling the wall at his back. He watched the man for a moment, confused by the unfamiliar words.
A hand soon appeared in the corner of the boy's vision. Jumping, the boy's head whipped to side and he lashed out and snapped at the hand. He'd met his mark with the man's hand, teeth latching onto the man's gloves. The man yelped and pulled his hand back, the glove slipping off and staying with the boy. The boy backed away again and started growling. He glared up at the owner of the hand. The man had long reddish brown hair that was tied in a braid. He wore a green cowboy hat and had an eye patch. The man, in turn glared down at the boy and reached for him again. He was more cautious this time, but the boy's reaction was still the same. He bared his teeth as he pressed himself into the wall, his growling got louder. When the man's hand got close enough, the boy snapped again, going for the man's wrist. Again, the man pulled his hand back, though this time he was faster than the boy and was left unharmed. As soon as the man pulled his hand away, the boy was bolting once more down the hall to find any way out. It didn't matter how anymore. He needed to run. He needed to get away. He needed to find a place to hide until it was safe.
Finding another set of stairs, the boy jumped most of them, slipping on landing and tumbling down the rest. The boy laid still for what seemed like hours (to him). He had landed hard on his shoulder when he hit the bottom of the stairs. It hurt. It hurt to move it. It hurt having his body's weight on it. Taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself, he rolled over, gritting his teeth in pain. A high keening noise escaped his throat as he moved, trying to get back on all fours.... well, three at this point. He couldn't put weight on the hurt shoulder. Forcing himself to get up, the boy fell only once, his body shaking uncontrollably. The sheer exhaustion from all of this hitting him like a freight train. But he couldn't stop. He had to keep moving. He couldn't be captured again. He'd be killed for sure. After a few wobbly steps, the boy was running unsteadily down the hall once more. He couldn't run full out, just at a pace between running and jogging made his shoulder hurt so much! More keening broke out as the boy moved down the hall. It wasn't long before the hallway opened up to a large set of stairs and a open floor that had a large set of wooden double doors on the other side. The front door. The boy stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the door. His body went lax and he sat for several moments, simply staring. Suddenly snapping out of his daze, the boy rushed forward in an all out attempt to reach the door.
With all the shouting and high strung emotions, the boy began pulling himself out of the black abyss his unconscious mind left him in. Voices echoed in a dull murmur, hardly able to recognize. He could hear the others in the room speaking. Most of what they were saying was slurred and murmured. It was difficult for his partially conscious mind to understand. "He's orphaned now... just like I was..." The voice was clear enough to make out the words. It sounded soft and scared. As if he was trying to agree, the boy's back arched and he squirmed in the female vampire's grip. An almost inaudible whine echoed from his throat, as the boy turned away from the open air and buried into the female vampire's bosom. It was a few moments before he stilled. His eyes slid open, blinking slowly, once, twice before sliding closed once again, body falling limp once more. He fell once more back into the black abyss of his subconscious.
A shiver shook the boy's frame. He stared into those crimson eyes, eyes akin to windows to Hell itself. The crimson vampire suddenly lunged. He rushed the boy and tackled him. The crimson vampire rolled with the boy, flipping twice and pinning the boy to the ground. One hand held the boy's body in place with firm weight to the boy's chest. The other wrapped itself around the boy's neck. Spidery fingers wrapped around the slim column of muscle, finger tips touching and sliding passed one another. Sliding up, the hand on the boy's neck pushed his chin upwards, forcing his head back and exposing his neck. The crimson man grinned like the Cheshire cat himself before rushing forward. Teeth sliced through skin, sinking deep into muscle and sinew. The boy's body bowed and bucked. He screamed as loud and long as his lungs could muster.
A final jolt and the boy had rolled onto his side. He fell a few feet before landing solidly on the ground. The wind fled his lungs from the impact. He laid on the floor, stunned for a few moments, unsure where he was, what had happened, or even whether or not he was dead. Once he caught his breath, the boy slowly sat up and looked around. He was in a bedroom. Much bigger than his own. Where was he? He didn't know. Panting and shivering, the boy realized that the room smelled like humans. There was a faint hint of the crimson vampire... which scared the boy. Why were there humans living with the vampire? Did the vampire take him back to some kind of nest or something? Did he plan on using him as a blood doll? His Father had warned him about that once. "Don't ever go to a vampire's lair. They will cage you and use you. They will feed off you as long as they can, make you a blood doll." His Father's words rang out in his head. His heart sank into his stomach. Shrinking into himself, the boy thought of trying to escape. Maybe he could get out through the window and run?
The sound of the door opening had the boy turning towards it and seeing an old man in a white shirt, black vest and slacks. His hair was kind of long, tied back in a ponytail. The man had burst into the room, letting the door fly open as he ran inside. A look of fear took over the man's features when he looked at the bed, but was soon forsaken for a more relaxed look when he saw the boy next to the bed. "You really shouldn't be out of bed, young one. Your injuries aren't even close to being healed." He moved towards the boy to help him back onto the bed. The boy drew inwards, taking a few steps back as the man neared him, a small growl rolling from his chest. "Now, now, there's no need for that. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but you need to rest or your wounds will reopen." The old man stopped moving and stood there for a moment, watching the boy. When the boy didn't move, a sigh escaped the man and he moved again, getting closer to the boy. In response, the boy shrank into himself more. He backed against the wall. His small growl growing louder. It was obvious by the sound alone that he was unsure and still very much scared. His growling got louder as the old man drew closer to him. The boy didn't have anywhere to go.
Being wedged between a bed and a wall and back against another wall, he didn't have any room to move. Baring his teeth, the boy hoped that he would get the old man to back off and leave him alone. "There's no need to make such a fuss. No one is going to hurt you." Undeterred, the man took a few steps closer before kneeling. He was just out of (his) arm's reach of the boy. He stayed on the floor for a moment or so before extending his hand for the boy. Seeing as the boy had canine qualities (as seen with his current behavior), he figured that maybe it would be best to allow the boy to know that he was safe. The man knew that dogs, especially wolves, had a higher sense of smell than humans. Not only being more keen in picking up smells and such, but also able to sense emotions through one's scent. It was how dogs (and most other animals) were able to decide whether or not they liked a person. "It's alright. Don't be scared." He said smiling softly. He wanted the boy to calm down before he hurt himself even more. The man was quite surprised at the boy since he'd lost almost enough blood to kill him, and yet he was up and moving about in only a day. He reached just a bit farther for the boy, hoping to make the boy see he wasn't going to harm him.
With a quick glance from the man's hand to his face and back again, the boy struck out. A loud bark and a snap of teeth at the man's hand had the boy launching forwards. His attack caused the man to pull back and lose his balance. He fell back, leaving enough space for the boy to slip through and run. The boy took the opportunity and ran for the open door of the bedroom. He bolted out of the room and into the hallway, hoping that he'd taken the way that led to the front door. The man soon regained his balance and was up on his feet. He quickly moved to the intercom in the room and dialed a code. Once connected, the speaker echoed with a female voice from the other end. "This had better be important, Sir Pennwood is in my office and you're interrupting an important meeting." The man smiled at the woman's tone and mentally chuckled. "Forgive me, Sir. you requested I inform you when the boy is awake. He's currently dashing through the halls, in what I assume is an attempt to escape an unknown environment." "WHAT?! Catch him! Sedate him if necessary. I don't want my staff bitten! That includes you Walter! Now get going!" The man gave a small nod, though the woman couldn't see and replied with a simple, "Right away." before following after the boy, down the hall.
The boy needed to get away. He didn't want to be fed to the vampires here. He didn't want to have to wonder when he was going to be killed. Were they going to do it right away, or bleed him for as much as they could get before his body finally gave out and died? He didn't know and had no intention of finding out. He ran down the hall as far as it would go before he skidded around a corner to keep going. The hardwood floors were slippery and didn't give the boy much traction. He ran through the new hall and soon found stairs. Feeling a bit hopeful, he bolted down the stairs and down the following hallway. He skidded down the last few steps, but it wasn't enough to slow him down. He stumbled a bit to regain his footing, but was soon back to running down the hall.
He kept going, as fast as he could down the hall. He wasn't stopping for anything. He turned quickly to see how far the old man had caught up to him. The man was just turning into the hall, while he was already almost rounding the next corner. Good, he only close enough to be in vocal range, if he yelled. The boy turned back to keep running and saw green. His head slammed into something hard and rebounded, hitting the ground with a yelp. He fell to the floor and heard someone else yelling in pain. The boy opened his eyes and looked up towards the new voice. He had to take a second to blink the blur from his eyes, but once it cleared he saw a group of men, soldiers, and one of them was hunched over, clutching his knee. The one who the boy had hit had short grayish black hair, with matching mustache and glasses. (
guy on the far right) The man smelled like smoke and ash, and he kept saying words the boy didn't understand. The boy scrambled to his feet and backed away, soon feeling the wall at his back. He watched the man for a moment, confused by the unfamiliar words.A hand soon appeared in the corner of the boy's vision. Jumping, the boy's head whipped to side and he lashed out and snapped at the hand. He'd met his mark with the man's hand, teeth latching onto the man's gloves. The man yelped and pulled his hand back, the glove slipping off and staying with the boy. The boy backed away again and started growling. He glared up at the owner of the hand. The man had long reddish brown hair that was tied in a braid. He wore a green cowboy hat and had an eye patch. The man, in turn glared down at the boy and reached for him again. He was more cautious this time, but the boy's reaction was still the same. He bared his teeth as he pressed himself into the wall, his growling got louder. When the man's hand got close enough, the boy snapped again, going for the man's wrist. Again, the man pulled his hand back, though this time he was faster than the boy and was left unharmed. As soon as the man pulled his hand away, the boy was bolting once more down the hall to find any way out. It didn't matter how anymore. He needed to run. He needed to get away. He needed to find a place to hide until it was safe.
Finding another set of stairs, the boy jumped most of them, slipping on landing and tumbling down the rest. The boy laid still for what seemed like hours (to him). He had landed hard on his shoulder when he hit the bottom of the stairs. It hurt. It hurt to move it. It hurt having his body's weight on it. Taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself, he rolled over, gritting his teeth in pain. A high keening noise escaped his throat as he moved, trying to get back on all fours.... well, three at this point. He couldn't put weight on the hurt shoulder. Forcing himself to get up, the boy fell only once, his body shaking uncontrollably. The sheer exhaustion from all of this hitting him like a freight train. But he couldn't stop. He had to keep moving. He couldn't be captured again. He'd be killed for sure. After a few wobbly steps, the boy was running unsteadily down the hall once more. He couldn't run full out, just at a pace between running and jogging made his shoulder hurt so much! More keening broke out as the boy moved down the hall. It wasn't long before the hallway opened up to a large set of stairs and a open floor that had a large set of wooden double doors on the other side. The front door. The boy stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the door. His body went lax and he sat for several moments, simply staring. Suddenly snapping out of his daze, the boy rushed forward in an all out attempt to reach the door.
Moderators: Alucard (played anonymously) Integra Hellsing (played by KhaleesiDany) Seras Victoria (played anonymously)