[FFML] [Hellsing/The Shadow] [repost] Under the Shadow of Hell: Prologue to Chapter 6

[Elsa Bibat]

Ack! Just got home and found out that only part three
came through.

Sorry about that. Anyway, here's the prologue to chapter five.
I've added chapter six since I won't be posting six to ten so
as to avoid flooding.

Next week is seven to ten.

BTW, if anyone manages to succesfully annotate this, I'd be
incredibly surprised. ^_^

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Disclaimer:

Hellsing is owned by Hirano Kouta. All licenses belong to the
proper people. This is used without permission.

The Shadow was created by Walter Gibson. All licenses and
rights belong to the proper people. This is used without permission.

This disclaimer also applies to several intellectual properties
referred to in the text. Please be guided accordingly.

This file can be freely distributed so long as it appears in
its complete form and proper credit given. No part may be reproduced
for monetary gain without permission from the author.

An additional note, this story is not set in the Dances Set to
the Music of Time sequence.

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Prologue

Dame Integra Wingate Fairbrooks Helsing, hereditary Knight
Commander of the Protestant Order of the National Knights of Hellsing,
savored the taste of her cigar as she looked over her mail.
After weeks of her incarceration and subsequent weeks of
preparation, Hellsing was finally back to operational capacity. The
"very thorough" fake investigation, orchestrated by the Queen and MI5's
infamous Diogenes Club, had cleared her of all wrongdoing and made her
a free woman. The Helsing Institute was still not in full operating
capacity, though it was well on its way. The London "earthquake" had
quickly overshadowed the Tower incident and had made possible the
reactivation of Helsing's military arm. Also, Ferguson's act of
sacrifice made it possible for the institute to be cleared of any
wrongdoing, once the proper "spin" was put to it.
She was actually thankful for her arrest. Her weeks of
imprisonment had given her a chance to review what had went wrong in
the entire fiasco. Punctuated by Alucard's annoying visits to offer his
blood to her, her isolation had given her several ideas to make sure
that there was no repeat of the incidents that had lead up to the
Institute's almost dissolution.
Already, the Hellsing mansion was experiencing several upgrades
in defensive equipment. Cameras had been set around the perimeter,
along with some rather nasty surprises that Walter had concocted for
the unwary. The main gate and driveway were studded with traps, along
with the mansion itself. A repeat of the Valentine assault would not be
tolerated.
She had also called in several favors. The Diogenes Club was
willing to help her Institute get on its feet, in exchange for a few
favors and a loan of her "special" agents every once in a while. They
had already helped her expand her investigation division and enabled it
to do its own investigations, independent of MI5's bungling. Diogenes
had always despised its bloated bastard creation, now its parent
organization, and they were quite glad to help. The Club was also doing
some politicking for her. It was an arena that she had despised before
her incarceration, trusting to the Queen's mandate. Her blindspot would
have to be filled eventually, but before that she trusted Diogenes
enough for the job. They were like her in a way, dedicated to Queen and
Country in heart and mind, unlike some of those idiots on the Round
Table.
General Hannay, a family acquaintance, had helped her do a
selection of new officers and troops for her military arm. Personal
screenings and complete background checks were required. She had
somehow managed to get the Institute to full battalion strength, with
people she could trust. The new commander, a sturdy fellow by the name
of Makepeace, was smart and tough. He was leading a squad right now for
a shakedown strike on a ghoul building in West End.
She had also some help from Walter's old friends. An elite
Hellsing team like the institute had during World War II would not be
remiss right about now. She had ordered Walter himself to find an
apprentice. There would be a bit of difficulty in finding the sort of
"unique" individuals that would comprise the new 'Sword of Hellsing' as
the unit had been called, but it would all be worth it in the end.
Integra's instincts told her that Incognito was just the first
strike. Alucard had mentioned that the demented vampire had a human
master. Her ruminations on that fact had led her to assume that
something big was coming and the institute was not ready for anything
like this. The thought had galled her at first, but one learns to
swallow pride inside a prison cell, no matter how well she was treated.
Ten years under her leadership had stagnated the Helsing legacy and had
almost led to its demise.
Well, when you fall down, you get up and try again. Harder and
wiser the second time around. Integra let a wry smile appear on her
lips as she looked over more of the official memoranda. Everything was
coming together.
Hellsing was going to war and whoever behind the FREAKs was
going to feel it. She'd probably have to reopen the mansion's torture
chambers after all.
Sifting through the dross of official mail, she came upon two
that made her frown. Opening them made her frown even deeper. She
looked up from her desk. Walter, over-protective ever since she had
been released, was standing at attention by the door.
Six hours like that, the man is incredible.
"Walter, could you explain this?"
The cadaverous butler arched an eyebrow as she held up a
rectangular piece of paper.
"A cheque for two million dollars, madam."
"I know that, Walter. But, what is this ...," Integra looked
back up at the cheque. "Cranston Group? What is this Cranston Group
that it gives us two million dollars?"
"I would hazard to guess that it is for the same reason the
Clark Savage Foundation gave us a cheque."
"Ah...yes, the other generous donor." Integra looked down at
the second piece of rectangular paper she was going to inquire about.
Then she realized something. Returning her gaze to her butler, she
resumed her questioning.
"You were expecting this?"
"They are old friends of the institute. Your grandfather met
their respective founders. I was privileged enough to meet them also.
Doctor Savage and Mr. Cranston were quite a pair. I believe you
yourself met the Doctor when he visited eighteen years ago."
Integra leaned back into her chair and furrowed her eyebrows.
Eighteen years ago...
A white-haired bronze giant of a man visiting her father about
some exercise regimen and a serum...
"Yes...yes...I remember him. Mother held him in great esteem
didn't she?"
Walter nodded. "Lady Parvati was an old associate of his. She
also held Mr. Cranston in high regard, though she was a bit wary about
him. They had a great respect for the Helsing legacy and your family. I
would assume that Doctor Savage's and Mr. Cranston's inheritors would
take interest in our current state."
"You knew they were sending two million dollars a piece?"
"That was the same amount that they gave after the war, madam.
The need for adequate resources, they said, in our particular field of
endeavor."
"Then they know of our mandate?"
"That I am quite sure of, madam."
Integra steepled her hands before her as she considered the two
items before her. Four million dollars. She was loathe to admit it but
Hellsing was quite strapped for cash lately. The upgrades and repairs
had taken quite a bit out of the institute's annual budget. She had
even been forced to draw from personal funds to supplement it.
Four million dollars would go a long way. Integra settled back
into her chair. But four million dollars also meant a big favor. She
hadn't been paranoid enough the first time around. The money could be
bait hiding a very sharp hook. Her gaze returned to Walter.
"Do you think these friends of ours have an ulterior motive for
these generous donations?"
Walter's lips quirked into a wry smile.
"Who knows what evil may lurk in the hearts of men, milady?"
Silence ruled as both master and servant considered the
question.

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Under the Shadow of Hell

A Hellsing/Shadow crossover

by

Elsa Bibat

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Chapter 1 Encounters

Ceres Victoria was a vampire.
She was faster, stronger, tougher than most human beings. She
has had a hole blown through her lungs, stabbed in the throat,
punctured in the stomach and sundry other things that would normally
result in her dying. Her powers, which were slowly emerging, would make
any sane man kill himself before she got their hands on them.
"And that's the bloody reason why I always get to be point,"
she muttered under her breath as she peered into the gloom. It was
something of a tradition already. She happened to be the most
experienced active agent that Hellsing had, mostly because she survived
where other Hellsing operatives died, thus whenever she joined a
deployment, she would inevitably be appointed as pointman.
She couldn't argue against that. Better her soaking up the
damage than the mortals. Add the fact that she didn't need any of the
bulky equipment that normal Helsing troops needed to operate in the
dark, her natural equipment actually being better than the standard
issue, she was the logical choice for point.
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she muttered again under
breath. Raising her hand, she gestured the all-clear. No ghouls. Yet.
She could smell the iron tang of blood and death. They were here
somewhere. She tightened her one-handed grip on the heavy assault rifle
that was standard issue for a clean-up. She preferred the Halconnen,
but that was overkill for something like this.
As her squad poured in to secure the room, she moved on. A
sniff of the air had given her a potpourri of scents to untangle
underneath the heavier ones. Sweat, tears, excreta...something else.
Something was not right. A wrong scent. Unnatural...
It had been confirmed before they entered that there was a
FREAK vampire inside. The place should be crawling with ghouls by now.
FREAKs weren't big on tactics. They just killed and killed until you
kill them.
Now, it was the second floor and they still hadn't found
anything. A multitude of scents permeated everything so that she was
unable to single out anything for tracking.
The dilapidated floor boards made no sound as she stepped on
them. They would have at least creaked if she had been human or at
least if she had come here a few months earlier. She had become lighter
on her feet as time past. Pretty soon she'd walk soundless, like a
ghost. Scanning the shadowy darkness with her red eyes, her vision
pierced like a searchlight through the stygian gloom.
The squad was back on her tail as the creaking floorboards
several meters back suggested. Normally, point would be closer. But she
was a vampire and she could handle anything for the few seconds that it
would take for the squad to catch up to her location. She was about to
turn the corner when she felt it.
The sharp tingle went up her spine and she raised her gun as
she threw her back to the wall. She hesitated as she felt the cold
muzzle of a large gun touch her forehead. Red eyes peered from the
shadows.
"Mas-"
This was not her Master. The gun touching her forehead was not
her Master's Jackal. Instead of her master's red, the vampire before
her was dressed in black. The creature before her was swathed in the
night's cloth, the leather gloved hand shining dully to her sight. The
gun, though not the Jackal, was close enough that it could have been
its cousin. A hawkish profile peeked out from beneath a slouch hat, the
red vampire eyes burning with power. A power she had seen before and
saw every time she looked into her Master's eyes.
This wasn't a FREAK. This was something much better and much
worse.
A No-Life King. Vampire royalty filled with eldritch powers she
could not hope to match.
She did not pull the trigger. She could not pull the trigger.
It would be stupid to pull the trigger, so she didn't pull the trigger.
The being spoke in clipped phrases as he stared into her eyes.
"You are in danger. Get out now. Tell your team to evacuate. I
will give you thirty seconds."
The voice was a harsh whisper. She could not see the vampire's
mouth as it was behind the collar of the dark cloak. The gun retreated
into the dark. An eyeblink and the being before her had become a part
of the darkness, invisible even to her sight.
A moment passed. Awe had overcome her. Then she remembered.
Five seconds.
"Hell."

"GET OUT! GET OUT! THIS IS POINT, EVERYONE OUT! NOW!"
Hellsing rule of survival number three: when the vampire
screams and runs like hell trying to get out, you get out.
Ten seconds

Commander Edmund Makepeace winced, his stone-faced features
cracking, as he heard his point declare an evacuation of the building.
He could hear the pounding of boots against wood.
Running his hand through thinning salt-and-pepper hair, he
looked up the building's facade.
What in God's name is she doing?!
Fifteen seconds.

Ceres took the stairs eight at a time. Questions ran through
her head as she ran. Who was that? How did he do that? What the hell is
going on?!
Twenty seconds.

Hissing in anger, the creature stretched its body taut. The
prey was so close. It had felt the power of its blood, as it was
promised. What had made it go back? A double row of fangs erupted in
its gaping maw as it prepared to move.
"Sssii thu nhon venerisss adh meh, egho vheniam adh teh," it
said in tortured Latin as gangly limbs began to tread the wooden
boards.
Twenty five seconds.

Not even breathing hard, since she didn't need to breathe,
Ceres Victoria skid to halt in front of her commanding officer.
Lieutenant Makepeace scowled down at her. "You better have a
bloody good excuse for this, Sergeant."
Thirty seconds.
"I think I do, sir."
"Friggin' 'ell!"
Lieutenant Makepeace and Ceres Victoria both turned to look at
what caused the shout.
The building was disappearing. Shadows lapped up sides of the
plaster walls, like waves of dark sea. Writhing tendrils reached up and
about as the building was devoured by the stygian assault. Surprisingly
enough, what the shadow had passed became nothing. They could see clear
through to the other side of the building. From the ground up, the
domicile disappeared into nothingness.
"That, Sergeant, is a pretty good excuse." Lieutenant Makepeace
said with grudging respect and he returned his gaze to the blonde
vampire before him. Her gaze still rested where the building had stood.
Makepeace arched an eyebrow at his subordinate's reactions.
Ceres was looking at the vacant lot that used to be the target.
Then she looked up.
As if the building was still there, unseen.
"It's not over yet, sir. Tell the men to take cover."
Makepeace blinked owlishly. But she didn't have to tell him
twice. He felt it himself. Something major was going on. He ordered the
troops to cover, while he himself took a spot behind the APC. Ceres had
gone inside for something and when she stepped out he knew they were in
deep trouble.
One hundred eighty centimeters of blue-gray metal were in her
hands as she stepped. Breaking away the barrel, she loaded in a shell
the size of her forearm. With a clack, the barrel returned into place.
The Halconnen was taller than the petite vampire but she carried it
with ease. A single round from that thing could blow an armored tank
sky-high.
"You think you'd be needing that?"
"I hope to God not."

The creature paused, hissing. Back arching like a cat, it had
felt the shadows swallow its current nest. Swinging its draconian head,
sapphire-blue eyes searched for the threat. It was in one of the top
floor rooms, windows that moments earlier looked out on to the street
and had let faint moonlight in, were now black as the abyss. The
shadows had swallowed its place and even its preternatural senses were
having difficulty piercing the eldritch gloom.
"Hic ego te pugnamus, demonio nocturno."
The whisper, almost inaudible to human ears but quite clear to
the inhuman entity, sounded like gravel being poured on concrete. The
laugh that followed that pronouncement grated the ears with a subsonic
shudder, a cacophonous aural assault to the creature's senses.
"Dohminusss Umhbrah." The creature spat out the words, hate
filling its voice as it warily drew back and surveyed its surroundings
once again. Claws slid out of their fleshy sheaths in preparation for
battle.
An explosive cannonade erupted from the darkness. As if by
great invisible hands, holes were torn into the creature's hide. Gouts
of flame tongued from a pair of guns, their flashes of momentary light
revealing a being clothed in black.
Screeching as the wounds on its body healed, the demonic thing
surged forward, claws gouging the air with deadly swipes. The guns
still boomed, though their wielder had not stayed stationary. Moving
like smoke, the being in black danced around the wide swings.
The being in black and the creature had moved in close to each
other. A deadly dance of glittering claws and jet black metal
punctuated by scarlet tongues of fire. A whirl, a dodge; razor sharp
slices seconds too late and lead meeting flesh at high-velocity speeds.
Duck, bend and an impossible somersault. A morbid waltz set to
the tune of smoke and flame; silver-jacketed slugs drawing forth
demonic screams from a living instrument; a metal and fire symphony
accompanied by the snicker-snack of grasping claws and the rasping,
saliva-filled imprecations of the filthy abomination.
Suddenly, the two separated. Glaring eyes judged, azure eyes
meeting scarlet, as they regarded each other. The freakish creature had
for its troubles a piece of torn cloth and horrendous wounds that were,
against all natural law, starting to close. The being in black was
unscathed, standing tall in front of one shadow-darkened window.
The creature started to laugh, a horrible braying sound that
grated on the ears. It was a thing of clicks and scratches with a
tongue slavering along as accompaniment. The thing drew a ragged
breath, as if gathering spit, then spat out several pieces of shining
metal.
"Argenthum. Pah!!" The dismissal was couched in the sardonic
tone of disdain and disgust. Slowly, the thing smiled.
"Mei occasssio, Dohminush Umbrah!"
It let out a shrieking howl and suddenly the darkness around
the two figures rattled, skittered and scratched as red eyes opened.
The tall shadow inclined its head as it slipped both guns into its dark
attire. Strange amusement burned in the scarlet eyes.
"Nisi argentum, lamia, ergo ignis."
"Quid?!"
With a flick of the wrist, one of the gloved hands produced a
small rectangular box with a blinking red button. The shadows that had
encased the window behind the dark figure retreated to show the London
skyline.
"NOOON!!"

Aim up, little Ceres.
The thought slid into her mind like a snake. Her telepathic
link with her Master quivered at the urgentness of the order.
She aimed up, with a little smile on her lips. At least he
calls me by my name now and the thought warmed her dead heart a little
like a bottle of fresh blood.
She felt it before it happened. The shadows that had earlier
encompassed the building returned. It was a spot where one of the sixth
floor windows should have been and the shadows pulled away like
magician's cloth, revealing the glass and wood of the aperture.
There was the sound of shattering glass and a black shape
exploded outwards with shards of wood and glass. Looking up in the
night sky as the figure opened its arms, Ceres was given the impression
that she was looking at a giant bat with red eyes boring into her soul.
A chilling laugh accompanied the sight, a mind-stopping cacophony of
mirth that made her mortal companions gape in awe at the scene. She was
viewing all of it in slow motion, vampire super-adrenalin coursing
through undead veins.
She unconsciously tugged at the trigger.
NOT YET!
Her trigger finger stopped, held by an unstoppable force.
A split second later the building, now released from its
shadowy embrace, which the dark inhuman missile had earlier left
exploded into an incendiary apocalypse.
She could see it blow for blow. Each shard of glass, wood and
brick falling like new snow. The bat-like creature cresting the
explosive blast, tucking into a slow-motion somersault. The figure was
halfway down the ground when something followed it from the shattered
window.
She could not describe it. The only impression she could get
was something inhuman with gangly limbs and eyes of blue. Unlike the
preceding departure, it was a graceless missile, screaming hate, pain
and fury.
Now.
Her finger pulled the trigger and the HEAT round slammed into
the thing like a freight train.
"Very good, little Ceres." The voice jolted her from the
adrenalin rush. Everything returned to normal speed. She turned around
and almost bumped into her Master's chest.
Her Master looked down at her with his razor-blade smile as he
patted her on the head. Ceres would have found it patronizing if it
weren't her Master doing it. It made her feel warm and loved, though it
could have just been the flaming building behind her.
"The shadow lord would like to thank you. But he's already left
the vicinity."
"The... you mean you know who that was?" Ceres gaped and turned
around. There was no trace of the shadowy figure that had landed on the
street.
Her Master was letting a vampire get away. Alucard never did
that.
"Binding covenants, my dear. Enough of that. You have to make a
report, you know. Integra will be so delighted you managed to cause
such a ruckus."
Ceres blinked as she looked up at her Master's face, then
turned her gaze to the burning building.
"Shit."

Chapter 2 Tourists

"Scheisse!"
Blue eyes and a diamondine smile gave him a look of questioning
condescension or condescending question. No matter. He hated that look.
Flicking the cellphone closed with a practiced move, he slipped it back
into his tailored jacket.
"Someone interfered. Do not say 'I told you so'."
"I will not say it. Merely smile and let you think I said it."
I told you so.
"Will you not do that?"
"What?" Innocence in an angelic face of a demon.
He sighed a long-suffering sigh. Suffering was long, endless if
one were immortal.
"Did you really have to try and kill her?"
"Unlike in the real world, a weak link can become the strongest
if left to itself. Alucard's fledgeling is getting strong. Plus-"
"Plus the fact that Helsing's experimental bloodline has a new
receptacle if ever the main carrier is destroyed or subverted. I know,
I know. I am familiar with the entire song and dance. By the way, they
know we're here."
He arched an eyebrow. "Who are 'they'?"
"They, of course."
"Oh, ja. Be more vague. Bitte."
"Who else can 'they' be?"
"There are a lot of 'theys' out there. Diogenes. MI-5. E
Branch. Hellsing. The Pakistanis. The Freemasons. The Vatican. Who?"
"Mother called."
"WHAT!?"
"She knows we're here. She's sending Schrodinger."
"SCHRODINGER!!"
"Ja. Schrodinger."
"Schrodinger." Calm. Reflection.
Silence.
"Schrodinger. Are you sure?" His question was tinged with
calculation.
"I am dead, not deaf."
"Ja, ja. Schrodinger." He steepled his hands as he stared into
the dark.
"Schrodinger."

"Schrodinger. Wilhelmina Schrodinger. Right?" Talmadge looked
up from the passport as he looked at the person waiting patiently for
her papers.
Green eyes twinkled behind a pair of glasses. Brushing a stray
lock of golden hair from her face, she nodded with a smile. Whoa, those
are sharp.
"Ja. That is me." The faint lilt of an accent lent her voice an
alluring tinge of the exotic. German was his guess. Looking down again,
he blinked in surprise.
Argentina. Must be one of those immigrant things.
He smiled and returned his gaze at the statuesque blonde before
him. Good posture enhanced the woman's inherent beauty and he could
notice well-muscled thighs peeking out from under her mini-skirt.
"Business or pleasure?"
"Business." That smile again. Reminded him of a cat, strangely
enough. He stamped the passport and passed it to her. Her hand brushed
his for a moment and he felt a sensual tingle come up from his fingers,
to his wrist, to his arms, right up to the back of his brain. His hair
stood on end for some strange reason.
"Danke schon." She looked into his eyes and he stuttered a
response.
"Yo-you're we-welcome, ma'am." For a moment, he was
inexplicably frightened of her. Damn. There you go again, Bobby old
boy, stuttering in front of beautiful women.
As the woman sashayed away, out of Heathrow, Talmadge turned to
his co-worker, Trowbridge.
"That was one sexy cat, right, chap?" Talmadge laughed at his
joke.
"Huh?" Trowbridge was obviously lost.
"Cat! Schrodinger! Cat! Get it!"
"Uh...no."
Talmadge rolled his eyes upwards. People here were such idiots.
A simple joke on quantum mechanics and they were lost.
I hate my job.

Chapter 3 Dawn

I hate my job.
"Sergeant Victoria, I believe you've already read the recent
circular I sent out to all the departments of our organization, haven't
you?"
Not that a blood-drinking dead girl can have a very big field of
employment.
"Let's take a look at it, shall we?"
I mean, well, my only other work experience is working in the
police force and not a very good experience at that. Well, I try and I
try... but they don't exactly give out promotions for trying.
"Reduced coffee intake...hmmm...sparing use of ammunition..."
Besides, I don't think they're taking any of my sort. I mean, a
vampire cop? Sounds like some queer little series on the telly for late
night BBC geeks.
"Regular blood pressure checks and blood tests..."
I'd be up in arms trying to keep my little 'habit' secret,
partnered with some curious little bleeder from Liverpool or
Birmingham. Probably try to find a cure for my little 'condition' with
a cute medical examiner down the morgue. Using my powers, if I had any,
to fight the good fight, for Queen and Country-
"Ah... yes, here it is. 'All operations will have the standing
order of keeping itself to a low profile, i.e. limited use of high-
explosives and heavy ordinance-"
The calm-as-a-cat-strung-tight-over-a-roasting-pit voice of her
superior and her line of thought stopped in mid-sentence as they both
noticed Ceres was humming 'Hail Britannia' under her breath, an
affectation from her time as a member of the living. Alucard's
amusement for the moment was flooding her link with him and she could
feel his smile on her lips. The younger vampire would have glared at
him if it weren't for the fact that she was already in enough hot
water.
Ceres noted the almost imperceptible tightening of Dame Integra's
eyes and knew what was coming. She thanked her vampiric senses for the
second's warning and, using a little trick she learned in police
academy, tuned everything out as Integra slammed her hand down on the
heavy oak table with a resounding smack and the last Helsing opened the
dam gates.

"-I bloody said 'low profile' and I bloody well meant 'low
profile'!! And what did you do?! Fire off a high explosive anti-tank
round in the middle of city!! How is _that_ low profile!? Two words.
Two simple words. Low. Profile. Two words used in conjunction to bring
about a particular meaning. Low profile. Are we even speaking
language?! I believe it's called English. English, isn't it?! You know
English, don't you?! They still teach that in all the public schools, I
believe. So what, in heaven's name, made you go and decide that using
what is technically an anti-tank weapon in city limits and letting a
building blown up by incendiary charges were within purview of my
express orders!?!?!"
Five minutes of watching Dame Integra not breathe as she delivered
her machine-gun artillery barrage, once a sight that had made her gape
in awe while flinching in terror, was something she was starting to get
used to.
Ceres almost smirked. Alucard was a terribly bad influence after
all.
Integra's laser stare jerked her back into reality.
"I am waiting for an answer, Sergeant."
"Reflex, sir," Ceres responded in the military manner, using the
masculine address. Well, there's another thing to put on my job
application sheet: period of employment in a covert paramilitary
organization.
"Reflex?" Integra had composed herself back into her stiffly
relaxed pose in her high-backed seat. An arched eyebrow above steepled
hands. "Ah, yes. The reach-for-the-big-gun reflex that seems to plague
the vampiric members of our organization."
The sardonic tone of her voice accompanied the shift of her
attention. "And what were you doing while all this was occurring,
Alucard."
Out of the corner of her eye, Ceres felt and saw her Master uncoil
from his amused stupor like a snake. His relaxed stance and wide grin
radiated that strange aura of menacing power mixed with bon homme good
humor. His response was couched in his customary drawling tease.
"Observing, master. Letting my fledgeling deal with the problem."
"And?"
"She handled it well."
"Handled herself well, did she?" Ceres, hearing the slight edge
that always managed to creep into Integra's voice whenever she had a
talk with her vampiric charge, had the idle thought about discussing
with Walter about switching Dame Helsing to decaf. The thought was
suddenly grabbed and disappeared out of her mind.
Alucard snickered and winked at her. Integra's razor voice sliced
the air once again.
"How about this report of another vampire on the scene?"
Alucard's smile became as sharp as a sword.
"Not just a vampire, master. A No-Life King and a true elder. He
saw Rome burn."
Ceres shivered. The shadowy vampire that she had encountered was
that old? She remembered the burning eyes and the cold touch of gun-
metal on her forehead. But most of all, she remembered the laugh, the
mad cackling that had heralded the elder's flight from the building. It
was terrifying and majestic at the same time, a sight that matched any
of her Master's feats. To have at least survived an encounter with that
being, even though it seemed the creature was helping her...
Integra had narrowed her eyes and was in deep thought. Looking up
she asked Alucard her question point-blank.
"Then why did you not fight? I would think that if the vampire you
encountered was that powerful, I'd assume that you'd be the first to
jump into the fight."
Alucard had that look again. Ceres had seen that look every time
her master was about to play a trump card. Usually the sort of trump
card that hurt a lot. His red eyes seemed to burn like the fires of
hell behind his orange-tinted glasses when he answered
"Cromwell's Pact was invoked. The elder did not wish a fight with
one of the vampires of the Night Guard."
At the mention of 'Cromwell's Pact', Ceres watched Integra's face
harden. Silence reigned in the room for several minutes. Ceres could
hear the gritting of teeth as the last Helsing leaned back into her
chair, the smooth sliding of cloth against leather bringing a strange
counterpoint to the sound of clashing molars and canines.
"Victoria. You can leave now. Me and Alucard have to discuss
something."
Ceres could only blink as her senses returned to normal. Focusing
her attention on a particular person always had that effect of
enhancing her senses concerning that individual. Rather distracting in
a way.
"Victoria." Dame Helsing's voice was a sharp stab.
"Yes, sir."
She saluted and executed a sharp about-face. Her heavy steps made
no sound as she walked out of the room, a peculiar contradiction that
reminded her of her vampiric condition. As the door closed behind her,
she was awfully tempted to listen in on the two, her curiosity piqued.
She leaned in-
Wait for me at your secret place at dawn.
The thought jarred her, no matter how smooth its entrance. Master
had wanted to meet with her at her secret place at dawn? When did he
tell her that?
Now, be a good girl and have a little drink.
Ceres blinked. She suddenly had an awful thirst, even though she
had consumed her blood allowance that night already. Hmmm... must be
because I'm a growing girl. Growing dead girl. Do vampires grow? Her
stomach churned and her fangs itched, a peculiarly ridiculous sensation
she always felt when she was thirsty. Maybe she could cadge a drink off
Walter, maybe a few pints or so of the red stuff.
With that thought, Ceres Victoria walked down to the kitchen,
looking for a drink, forgetting anything about listening in to the
conversation in the office.

As the red streaks in the sky appeared, phenomenon unseen to the
mortal eye, she put on her sunglasses.
They were a pair of Ray-bans that were obviously meant for a man,
the blockish design she had once noted as unflattering on her face.
Ceres just sighed. Not as if I wear them to look good.
She didn't even get hurt by sunlight, her skin not even curling up
and burning like in all those movies. Walter had told her that his
initial warning about sunlight was because of the transition period
between her living and unliving states. She would have been a bonfire
if she had gone out in her first few months, but now her body was
totally dead and the butler had mentioned to her she could stand the
light of day again.
That was the day she found this place.
A forgotten tower in the east wing, when Ceres had first entered it
layers of dust where in residence, it afforded her a perfect vantage
point for the sun's rise. She opened a window and waited for sun to
come.
And almost had her eyes burned out.
Walter had calmly explained to her as he poured blood into her
burning optics that her eyes were still too fragile for a head-on
encounter with sunlight and rebuking her lightly that she should have
told her she wanted a look at the sun. He would have bought her a pair
of sunglasses if she had only told her, he said in his gravelly voice.
A thing which he did, that very day.
Ceres had this sneaking suspicion that she hadn't told her on
purpose, but she couldn't think ill of anyone and let it go. Alucard
had only laughed when he heard of her experience.
"Walter is a rough taskmaster in his own way, police girl," the
elder vampire said in between chuckles. "Be careful about him and watch
him. You'll learn all you'll ever need to survive."
Ceres took her master's advice and soon she saw all the little
things that Walter did to inconvenience her. Things that she could
easily remedy and do herself. Which she did. The cadaverous butler only
smiled at her actions, winked at her and said a sentence that she would
treasure for the rest of her unlife.
"Alucard chose well, it seems."
Ceres smiled at the memory, while touching her sunglasses.
"Memories, Ceres, are important for humans. For us, they are not."
Her Master's voice echoed in the room, seemingly coming from
everywhere at once. She turned around and watched him ooze out of the
floor with the shadows. He seemed to be hiding something in his coat.
It seemed to be wriggling a bit, her Master's iron strength not enough
it seemed to completely subdue whatever it was under the folds of red
pseudo-cloth that made up the elder vampire's trenchcoat.
She ignored it as she gazed up at her Master's eyes. They were the
same lambent red as always, the twinkle of amusement that was always
present giving them an eerie air.
Ceres just stared at Alucard, almost as if on the verge of saying
something, then shook her head. She returned her gaze to the slender
crimson fingers of approaching daylight.
Master always told her things that she wasn't supposed to do, but
never actually enforced any of them, sometimes actually praising her
for doing something she was not supposed to do. It was as if he was
rewarding her for breaking the rules that he set out for her.
"Already learning, I see."
Ceres blinked at the elder vampire's statement as her Master
stepped forward to stand beside her, pulling his hand out from
underneath his coat.
"I'm pleased. Here. Have a bunny."
"Er..."
Her Master was currently holding what was a perfectly healthy
specimen of species Lepus. Shiny brown-gray fur covered a sleek, svelte
body. Beady black eyes looked back at her as one long ear flopped
rakishly across its snouted face.
To put it mildly, Ceres was surprised.
"Take it, Ceres. It's a ... gift." There was a strange lilt he gave
to the word 'gift' that made his fledgeling nervous.
Wide-eyed, Ceres slowly raised her hands and took the rabbit from
her Master's hands. The black glass eyes gaze at her face as the snout
twitched convulsively. It was so cute!
The Master was giving her something! He was pleased! He was being
nice to her!
"Master...I-I don't know what to say! This- this is just-"
Her act of thanks was interrupted by her Master baring a fanged
smile. His feeding smile.
"Well, he's not exactly a gift, actually. More like a snack, don't
you think?"
Ceres blinked. This was getting weird.
"Master, I've already drank twice my blood allowance for the night.
I can't-"
There was dark humor in Alucard's red eyes as he interrupted her
once again.
"But you're feeling thirsty again aren't you?" The voice was smooth
as silk and the question seemed to hang in the air for a few moments,
caressing her ear before finally being wafted away by an unfelt wind.
"I don't-" Her fangs started to itch. Stupid teeth.
"You're thirsty aren't you? How about a little drink, then?"
"I-" Her stomach churned and she could feel the thirst rising.
Ceres could hear the thumping heartbeat of the rabbit as she held it in
her hands. She really was thirsty and it isn't as if it was
human...Besides, Alucard brought it for her personally...
Ceres bared her fangs and leaned down, ready for a bite when her
Master once again interrupted her.
"By the way, his name's George."
Pausing in mid-bite, Ceres blinked again. She mildly noted that she
doing that a bit too frequently for the past few months. Closing her
mouth, she gave her elder a suspicious look.
"George?" An unspoken question hinged after that statement. Rather,
several unspoken questions.
"Yes, George. Ginny loves him very much and will probably cry her
eyes out when she finds him missing."
"Ginny?" This was just getting better and better.
"Yes. Ginny." Her Master's smile was only getting wider and wider.
"Who's Ginny, Master?"
"Hmmm... Ginny Weasel? Whistler? Weasley? I forget. I wasn't
exactly paying attention to names when I was looking for little George
here."
"But you remembered _his_ name?"
"There was a name tag. Threw it away afterwards. Aren't you
thirsty?"
Her throat burned at the mention about her thirst. Why does he keep
on reminding me?
"I can't just kill George!"
"Why?" He honestly doesn't know!
"Somebody owns him! Somebody loves him!"
"You mean its perfectly all right to kill someone as long as no one
loves them?"
"I- Why did you have to tell me all this! You could have just let
me drink!"
"But, this is a lesson, my dear."
"What lesson?"
"People have names. People love them. This rabbit essentially is no
different than any mortal human being. An animal who eats and fucks and
has living blood in his veins. So, what's stopping you?"
What's stopping you, Ceres? You're supposed to be a bloodthirsty
monster. Just dig in and suck little George dry.
Come on.
You can do it.
Just a bit of a sip and Georgie won't even feel a thing. I mean,
you didn't feel a thing when the Master sucked you dry. You enjoyed it.
You keep on dreaming about it during those cold, lonely nights in your
coffin.
Yes, little Ginny will cry, but after a few weeks Georgie-boy here
will be forgotten for the next little cute thing. That's the way the
world works. We get born. We live. We die and are forgotten.
But _we_ don't die, little Ceres, my sweet little bride. We're
better than these shit-makers and worm-fodder. You're better than
George. You deserve this. It's your right.
So, go ahead.
Take a little drink.
"Get out of my head!" Ceres screamed at her Master's face,
forgetting herself. Seconds afterward, she cringed, waiting for her
Master to get angry.
"Hmmm?" Alucard's face only showed amusement.
"I- I won't do it." Her throat was burning and she felt her tongue
go dry and her itching fangs were driving her crazy.
"Really?"
"Really." She was gritting her teeth and was carefully trying not
to clench her fist so as not to squeeze George like a toothpaste tube.
She closed her eyes to avoid looking at the fleshy bag of blood in her
hands, its heart beating a rhythmic into her arms.
"Well, if that's what you want."
Ceres' fangs stopped itching. Her thirst was gone. She opened her
eyes and stared at George, who was blinking his glassy eyes at her,
unaware of how close he had been to his doom.
"So, it seems you've decided to pick up a pet, Ceres."
Ceres sighed and she only kept herself silent as she composed
herself while her Master continued.
"This is totally disappointing, you know. Well, not totally. But,
disappointing nonetheless. If you were so worried about killing the
little thing, why don't you just turn him after you killed him? I would
think Ginny would be quite pleased that her pet would outlive her by
several centuries."
Yes. A vampire rabbit. Just imagine all the fun of that! The wacky
hijinks, the hunt for a three-foot long blood-drinking mammal through
the green hills and meadows of the English countryside and, of course,
the large body count.
Just what England needs: another reason for Integra to shout at me.
"Master, I'm really tired and the sun's about to rise. I'll think
about what to do with George later."
Alucard nodded with a smile and turned to the rising sun. Still
just below the horizon, to vampiric eyes it was as if a thousand
rainbows had been unleashed in the still-dark sky.
"By the way, we're still not finished for tonight. I still have one
little gift."
Ceres suppressed a groan.
"Now, now, little Ceres. It concerns you little streak of
curiosity. I felt you interest earlier in what I mentioned to our
beloved Lady. You can ask me one question about it."
"Why?" Her Master was acting weird again. Well, weirder than usual.
Usually, I have to face every abomination, hellish entity and
catastrophic situation blind. The sudden volunteering of information
was suspicious, to say the least.
"My sense of the perverse."
"Oh." Well, that was another vague explanation.
"Your question, my dear?"
Ceres furrowed her brows. What to ask? About the 'Cromwell's Pact'
thing? Or maybe about the elder? There were a dozen things she could
ask about.
No, not those. She knew what to ask about.
"Master, what is the Night Guard?"
Alucard smiled wide. "You are very sharp, Ceres."
"Just answer the question, Master."
"Very well. The Night Guard is the name of an organization. The
full name is 'Her Elite and Loyal Legion of Supernatural and Immortal
Night Guards'."
Ceres blinked. She had a talent for word puzzles when she was
younger and it had remained with her for the rest of her life.
"But that's-"
"Yes. H. E. L. L. S. I. N. G. Beautiful name, don't you think?"
"But, I thought that it was named after Lady Helsing's family?"
"There's only one 'L' in Helsing, Ceres. If you wish to learn more,
better ask the historian."
"Who?"
"Walter, of course. He is probably the most knowledgeable person to
ask about Hellsing's dark past, other than me. Ask him when you two
spar the next time, won't you? Tell him I sent you looking for answers
and I call in my favor. Now, hush, the sun's rising."
Ceres turned to the east and saw the faint glimmerings of the solar
explosion that had burned her eyes out the first time she gazed on it
full on. She heard the clasping of glass frames and turned to see her
Master without his sunglasses.
"Master! You'll-"
"Hush! I am too old to have my eyes burned out." Alucard smiled at
her. "One day, my dear, you will be able to do this, too."
He was smiling as the sun rose and Ceres just ignored him and
turned her attention to the cosmic fireworks display that was about to
start.
She didn't know why, probably her Master knew, but to a vampire's
eyes sunrise is one of the most beautiful things in all of creation,
matched only by sunset.
When she was little, her Dad had rented a video of a Disney movie.
It was called 'Fantasia'. It was just like that. Some strange musical
symphony that could only be heard by the eyes. Panoplies of colors, the
hues of the rainbow dancing to a tune that seemed to beat in time with
her heart. It had burned her eyes out the first time with its searing
magnificence and even now, her eyes hurt behind the dark sunglasses.
Her reverie was interrupted by her Master.
"You know, I may not like the bastard. But He sure makes a
beautiful sunrise."
Ceres could only nod. And as it rose, Ceres could only use simple
words to convey the magnificence of it all.
The sun was bright and beautiful.

Chapter 4 Tea

The sun was bright and beautiful.
Irritatingly so.
Dame Integra Helsing rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and
yawned, blinking back the powerful onslaught of the sun's morning rays
in her eyes. Dressed in pajamas and a voluminous woolen bathrobe,
rabbit slippers slapping lightly on the carpeted floor, she was the
very image of a beautiful young woman just awakened from her sleep and
ready to face the challenges of the new day.
It was an image she didn't care much for. It was mainly the
reason why she was taking the servant's stairs down to the kitchens.
Most of the staff were about cleaning and no servant would be
using this particular set of stairs right now since they led to the
family kitchen, a subset to the main kitchens added by her late mother,
Dame Parvati Helsing.
Her mother had been obsessed with matters of privacy and
familial connections and sometimes felt that dining in the main dining
room every day was just too... elitist and reduced the personal contact
that she had always felt important in a family. Being raised in a
rather cramped household in Bombay, she felt that a small dining
room/kitchen would be a good place for her family to bond and she was
right. Integra could still remember the delightful dinners that she and
her parents had shared. The smell of her mother's curry and sound of
her father's laughter would be the strongest of memories associated
with the smallish room but there were others: Her mother letting her
help cook the delectable treats that she still sometimes hungered for,
balls of flour and cheese fried in oil, coconut strips dipped and
boiled in brown molasses and, so strangely non-Hindu, chocolate fudge;
Her father telling her of the family's legacy while her mother watched
on with an uneasy look on her face, a face already thinning and turning
pale from the cancer; Listening to how mother had lost her entire
family to the rakoshi, feral vampires from the Indian subcontinent, her
suicidal vengeance trip afterwards and how her father had saved her at
the last minute with the assistance of mother's old friend and mentor,
a Doctor Savage.
The memory of the name made Integra purse her lips and pause in
midstep. Doctor Savage? Yes, that was why the name 'Clark Savage' was
so familiar and Walter did say that he was an associate of her
mother's. It seemed she still had friends she didn't know about.
Integra just shook her head and brushed away a lock of hair and
continued her downward trip. Enough time for that later.
The family kitchen was still used mainly for the purpose of
intimacy, though Integra thought her parents may disapprove of the
times she dragged Alucard into the kitchen to eat with her when she was
younger. She sometimes cajoled Walter into dining with her there,
though the butler was clearly uncomfortable because of his ingrained
training. One does not dine with the master after all. But in her
youth, she looked around for eligible surrogate family members and the
two were the only ones available .
Strange that her family would include a psychotic vampire and a
butler that had a confirmed body count of more than a thousand human
and inhuman enemies, but an orphan could not exactly choose who to make
family, a thought that was rather appropriate as Integra turned down
the final spiraling steps and smelled the wafting odor of freshly
brewed tea.
The sunlight glinted off her short blonde hair as Ceres
Victoria sat in what had become her chair beside the little round table
that was the family kitchen's centerpiece. Her ruby eyes were hidden by
those horrible sunglasses she always wore when in daylight. Dressed in
what was probably her only sleeping outfit, a rather thin ankle-length
night gown with ruffled sleeves, the sort of night gown that one would
usually only see worn by boarding school girls or on young ladies at
the turn of the century. Ceres' bare feet were playing with themselves,
the white smooth skin of her ankles alabaster in the light. She was
nursing a cup of blood tea, a peculiar mixture of tea, water and blood,
since vampiric digestion seemed to allow any liquid items mixed with
the vital fluid, her left hand slowly stroking a rabbit that she had
gotten from somewhere.
It was a picture of beauty and innocence, radiating a soft
sensual aura that was barely erotic but made Integra's spine shiver all
the same. Her father had once told her that some vampiric bloodlines
radiated that field of seduction like a bait for the unwary. Alucard's
bloodline was one of those. Though the elder vampire almost always went
out of his way to be a total ass and present a slovenly appearance, his
handsome features and the majesty of his presence still shone through.
His fledgeling it seems was still unaware of what she was doing to most
of the people in her vicinity, most probably because most who come in
contact with her were aware that she was a vampire and knew of her sire
as an entity that could make sure Hell was the place you'd be wishing
for after he got his hands on you if they ever messed with her.
Fortunately, the aura lessened whenever she was in the field or
on active duty. Unfortunately, at times when she was relaxed the effect
seemed to double in strength. Walter and Alucard, two of the three
people Ceres would usually encounter on her down time, were immune to
the aura, mostly because Walter had survived several years of exposure
to something similar and Alucard, because he was the bloodline's
progenitor after all. The third person who usually encountered Ceres
was Integra herself and she neither was a vampire nor had she
experienced the full power of Alucard's aura.
What was initially an attempt to gauge her new vampiric
charge's abilities and personality became a daily habit of sharing
morning tea. Integra had been trained to need only three hours of sleep
every twenty four hours and Ceres, like her sire, was what vampires
considered a daybird and they both had a need for tea at the exact time
in the morning, about nine o'clock. A weird friendship had blossomed
between the two, both knowing enough to keep their professional faces
when doing work and letting their hair down during their morning
encounters. It almost seemed like a game, Ceres trying her best to put
a smile on the face of the older woman while Integra tried her best to
keep herself as grumpy as possible, a difficult task indeed while being
assailed by Ceres' seductive aura and her strange, for someone who was
undead, propensity for good cheer.
Thankfully enough, her parents had each taught her a few
meditative tricks that they believed would help her in carrying the
burden of being a Helsing. Still, even with her mental focus, Ceres
managed to convince her to go on a shopping expedition.
The shopping trip was not exactly the complete and total
disaster that most people would usually imagine when a rather perky
undead girl with a liking for brightly colored funky outfits and a
rather dour living girl with a propensity to dress in men's clothing
get together to shop.
The experience was, Integra loathed to admit, rather fun. It
was an entirely normal shopping trip, with both women looking for
appropriate outfits. It was a bit uncomfortable, mostly because of
Integra's constant close proximity to the young vampire in various
states of undress, but, after all was said and done, it was quite the
success.
Also, not all of its success could be attributed to Ceres'
attraction aura. Integra liked Ceres well enough and they connected in
a certain way that the elder woman could not understand. There was a
strange feeling of sisterhood that she felt with the younger girl that
was difficult to explain.
The last Helsing was not exactly the most sociable person in
the world and most of her other friendships were mostly gained after
periods of struggle that would sometimes be called epic. Ceres had
managed to worm herself into her good graces with such seeming ease
that it made Integra uncomfortable.
"Good morning, Dame Integra!"
Integra blinked and finally noticed that she had been gazing at
Ceres for several long minutes. Thankfully, the vampire had not noticed
her arrival until now.
"Good morning, Ceres. My tea ready?"
"The pot's nearly on the boil. There." Ceres stood up as the
whistle of the teakettle alerted the room of its heated contents being
ready. Her nightgown flattered her petite figure well and it made her
bust seem-
Integra shook herself. Control. Control. She walked to her
chair and sat down with a relieved sigh.
"You know, Ceres, you really should get a new pair of sleeping
clothes."
"What? Is there something wrong with it?" The young vampire had
set the kettle on the table and bent around looking for a rip or a
tear. It drew the nightgown tight against her lithe curves in such a
way that made Integra's mouth go dry.
"You don't wear anything under that, do you?" Integra asked
with a slight tremble in her voice, as she quickly poured herself a cup
as she turned her eyes away to look outside.
"Well, no. I like the way it feels on my bare skin and it makes
me feel more relaxed." The delivery was so innocent that it almost
bordered on pornographic. Even though she was looking away and Ceres
was wearing her sun glasses, Integra could see in her mind's eye that
wide-eyed naive look on the vampire's face that she always found
strangely attractive.
"Er...yes, well, I would prefer if you got a pair of pajamas or
wore a bathrobe over it. Who knows who might see you in that thing?"
Plus, it would contribute a lot to my peace of mind. "Actually, don't
worry about it. I'll have Walter get you both and have them sent
downstairs."
"No need to trouble him, Dame Integra. I'll just go out and buy
some next time."
"Will you stop doing that!"
"Doing what?"
Integra was about to say that Ceres should stop smiling that
way because it made her so damn sexy but she caught herself.
"Stop using my title. I've told you that there's no need for
formality with me when you're here." Integra made herself smile to put
the young vampire at ease. "Even Walter doesn't call me by my title in
this room."
"Um...sorry about that." Ceres, it seemed, had finally mastered
the act of biting her lips without drawing blood. "Just can't help
myself, I think. Dad always drilled me on acting right. Can't have me
embarrassing myself and my family, can I?"
Integra shook her head and gave Ceres a small honest smile. "We
can't and we won't, dear. But if you ever use my title again in this
room, I'd have to use your title, too."
Ceres' eyes widened. "I have a title?"
"Of course. You've died in the service of the organization,
haven't you?"
"Well, technically-"
"That's always how it works. Technicalities. So, technically
you are a Knight of the Order of Hellsing, one of the lesser degrees of
knighthood, but a knighthood nonetheless, Dame Ceres."
Ceres giggled. "Don't say it like that, Da- Integra. It makes
the name sound pretentious."
"So see to it that you don't call me 'Dame' in this room."
"All right, all right, Integra, if that's how you want it."
They both settled into a comfortable silence as they both drank
their tea.
Integra noticed that Ceres was giving the rabbit on the table a
blank little look. She herself was curious to what made the vampire
take an interest in keeping a pet.
"Having trouble with your little friend?"
The younger woman shook her head in the negative. "I'm just
wondering what to do with him. Alucard gave him to me."
Integra suppressed a spurt of jealousy. For whom that little
jerk of her heart was for, she didn't know.
"Alucard rarely gives gifts to anybody, Ceres. I should think
you'd be happy." I know I would be.
"Well, it's not exactly a gift." Ceres had left off stroking
the rabbit and started to twiddle her fingers and her mouth was
puckered into what Integra thought of as a sexy little pout, a thought
that Integra crushed as quickly as possible. "He said it's my next
lesson."
"Hmmm?"
"I have to kill George here."
Integra spared the little lapine on the table a curious glance.
"I would think that giving a name to something you have to kill would
not exactly be conducive to the act."
Though unseen, Ceres' eyebrows gave away the fact that she had
just rolled her eyes upward in a gesture of helplessness. "I didn't
give him a name, Integra. Alucard stole him from some little girl."
Integra's eyes narrowed. "He took him from her? Personally?"
"Well, I'm guessing he pulled George out of the yard or
something like that. He doesn't like being seen by little kids. For a
vampire, Master has this weird hang-up with children."
I know. "So, you have to 'drink' from little George here?"
Integra suppressed any outward show of her ingrained instinctive
disgust at any thought of drinking blood. She was aware of what her
charges did, but she didn't have to be forcibly reminded of it. "Is
that the problem? Is he forcing you? Because, if he is-"
Ceres interrupted Integra before she could get into full steam.
"No, no, no. It's all right. He's not forcing me into anything.
He just suggested I make George here into a little snack. He backed off
when I said no. It's just that..."
The young vampire looked hesitant. To Integra's eyes, she
looked a bit nervous. "What's the problem then?"
"Well... me and Alucard were having a little ...conversation
about killing George here when he called me something."
"Hmmm?"
"I know, I know. Sounds bloody stupid. It was such a small
thing anyway. I just remembered him saying it about a few minutes ago.
It was such a... I don't know the word...it just had the right ring to
it that I didn't question him when he called me that, you know?"
Integra just gave the petite blonde across from her a curious
look, an eyebrow arched.
"It's not as if he was being serious, though you can't tell
with him..."
Ceres trailed off once again, to Integra's displeasure.
"So, what did he called you?"
"I...well..."
"C'mon, girl, spit it out!"
"Well, he called me ... his 'sweet, little bride'."
Integra blinked. "What!?"
Ceres flinched, alerting Integra to the fact that she had
screeched that last statement. She drew a deep breath and composed
herself and repeated the question in calmer tone. "What?"
"He called me his bride. I'd understand it if you get angry,
Integra-"
"Why should I be angry? Do I look like I'm angry? Do I sound as
if I'm angry? Am I angry?"
"Er... well..."
"I'm not angry. There. I'm flatly stating it out. I am not
angry."
"Okay, if you say so..."
"Shall we continue this conversation?"
Ceres nodded.
"Well, why does Alucard calling you his 'bride', worry you?"
"Er... I was going to ask Walter what it meant-"
"Why Walter and not me?"
"Ah...Walter knows a lot of things about-
"And I don't?"
"I didn't want to worry you about anything." The words tumbled
out quickly, so that they could not be interrupted. The room settled
into a frozen silence.
Integra could feel Ceres being scared, a trick she had learned
from her mother. Why is she scared of me? I sit with her each morning
to share tea and she's scared of me. I mean, doesn't the fact that I'm
willing to spend my time with her signify nothing to her? Why, I should
be frightened of her, damned creature of the night that she is. Another
bright slash of fear pulsed across Integra's senses and she looked
across the table at the pale undead girl. Ceres was hiding it well, but
she obviously wanted to leave.
For some strange reason, after a few moments, Integra realized
she didn't want her to. For a short moment, she felt ashamed at
frightening her vampiric charge. She breathed deeply and calmed
herself. To calm Ceres, she reached out and put a hand over the undead
girl's right hand and smiled. The vampire's hand was cold as a corpse,
but she smiled anyway.
"I'm sorry. I'm still just a bit high-strung."
Apologizing to a vampire would probably gall her normally, but this
particular vampire was special, in a way. "So, you were going to ask
Walter about?"
Ceres had calmed down and offered a little smile of her own. "I
was going to ask him about what Alucard meant by him calling me...
that."
"Well, as I mentioned, you should have asked me. If there was
anything wrong with your sire, I should be the first to know about it."
"All right, Integra, the next time I want to know anything
about Alucard, I'll just ask you."
"Good. Now, you want to know why he called you his 'bride'?"
"Well, I think so."
"Most vampire's of your master's age have a... harem of
fledgeling vampires of the opposite sex to... be their companions. They
are usually called as either 'brides' or 'grooms'. Alucard had a set of
them before he was bound."
"Are they-"
"I said 'had', didn't I?"
"Oh."
"I'd assume you'd want to know what brides did?"
"Well..."
"I shall assume your hesitation as a 'yes' and will tell you
anyway. Brides usually acted as the elder vampire's representatives or
as agents to his will. Also they did most of the menial work for their
elders."
"And that's why they're called brides? Shouldn't they just be
called 'wives' or something?"
"No... the term is mostly from slayer parlance-"
"Slayer?"
"Vampire slayer."
"Oh."
"Well, it refers to the fact that once a person has been given
the dark kiss and turned into a vampire, the elder usually..."
"What?"
Integra was sure that her cheeks were red by now. "Well, what
did Alucard do after he turned you?"
"Er...wrapped me in a curtain and carried me out of the town."
Integra blinked in surprise. That meant Alucard didn't-
"This is very important, Ceres. You were a virgin weren't you?"
Integra had this distinct feeling that if Ceres were mortal,
she'd be blushing tomato red. "Well, yes. I still am. Is that
important?"
Integra gaped at her. "Still?"
"Yes. Why is-"
"One of the more important things that makes a person a prime
candidate for turning is the fact that he or she has had no sexual
intercourse in his or her life. A virgin."
Ceres was obviously blinking with the way her eyebrows were
going up and down.
"Does that mean Master's a-"
"No. That's another part of the ritual. The elder is supposed
to... deflower the newly turned vampire. Are you sure-"
"We-well, everything was a blur and I- It felt so good when he
bit me, it was like flying and I got sort of...what's sex supposed to
feel like, Integra?"
Oh, great. The image of her being a sexual consultant for a
vampire was almost too much for her and the absurdity of the situation
took her near to the brink of laughter. "I'm not exactly the person to
ask that particular question."
"Huh?"
"Let's just say that in some circles I'm called, not exactly
politely or respectfully, the 'Iron Virgin'."
"Oh."
"Yes. 'Oh'"
"I mean, you're so beautiful and-"
Integra really didn't need for Ceres to tell her how sexy she
was, she'd had enough of that during the shopping trip, besides it
wasn't exactly helpful for her self-control to hear someone she
found... attractive to tell her that. So, to forestall the incoming
barrage of praise, she interrupted the young vampire before she could
continue.
"We're getting off-topic. Are you sure Alucard didn't..." She
left the question hanging.
"Pretty sure. I don't exactly check that sort of thing. Maybe
you can-"
"I'd rather not, thank you."
"Er...ask a doctor to check?"
Integra was thinking of someone else doing the checking, so it
was with a definite effort that she suppressed a blush. "No. Besides,
it would be rather moot with you vampiric healing, wouldn't it?"
"Ah, yes. Sorry about that."
"So...are there anymore problems?"
"Well, you've answered what 'bride' generally means, but I
don't think that it answers my question."
Integra nodded. That was a definite puzzle. "Then, you should
look it up, Ceres."
"Look it up?"
"Hellsing has the largest library of vampire lore in the entire
world. Even Iscariot cannot match our library. It was left untouched by
the Valentine assault, thanks to you and Walter. Maybe there's
something in there that would help you."
"I don't-"
"I'll tell Walter to give you free use of it."
"Er... thank you." Ceres smiled at her.
"No problem, my dear."
Integra finally noticed that hand was still on the young
vampire's hand and slowly pulled it away.
"Well, it seems I'm finished. I should be going downstairs."
"Good day, then."
"Good day, too."
Ceres stood up and put her teacup in the wash basin. She moved
to leave and hesitated beside Integra, who had started to read the
Times.
"Integra."
"Hmmm."
Ceres stood beside her holding George in her hands and had a
strange look on her face.
"I-Well, thanks for talking with me. It really means a lot to
me."
Then, Ceres blurred with vampire speed and gave Integra a
friendly kiss on the cheek. She then wafted out of the room like the
wind.
The last Helsing was frozen. Then, with arctic slowness, she
reached up to feel the cold place where dead lips had kissed her. With
Ceres' departure, everything seemed to go to normal. She abruptly
realized what she had just shared with the young vampire and the
strange combined emotions of horror and pleasure enveloped her.
For some strange reason, she had this urge to slam her head on
the table. Repeatedly. A question ran on endless repeat in her mind.
Why do I keep on doing this?

Chapter 5 Diogenes

"Why do I keep on doing this?"
That was the question on Harold Lister's lips as he pushed
through into the Diogenes Club's employee section.
"Because no one else would take you?"
Jack Wildman's rejoinder stung since it was rather close to the
truth. Lister was not exactly top grade material for a servant. Almost
every household he had been in had eventually thrown him out. Only in
Diogenes, where eccentricity was the norm, had Harry stayed on for more
than six months.
"Sod off, Jack."
Wildman only chuckled.
"What is it this time, Harry? Having difficulty with sign
language?"
Harry Lister's primary problem with the Club was that the
hundred year rule of silence still held. Club members used a strange
form of sign language that was like no other in the world, finger
twiddlings mixed with strange positions in the air all with the speed
of telegraph operators.
"No. Some bloke came into the Stranger's Room and requested a
second-story."
Jack whistled appreciatively. One of those.
'Second-story' was the euphemism that the servants used to call
the second floor of the Diogenes Club, probably the most secretive
place in the entirety of London. Visitors had come and gone in strange
hours to that mysterious place and almost always something happened in
the newspapers.
"So what's the problem then? You've dealt with folks like that
since you've arrived. You just don't talk about it."
"This particular egg's kind of hard not to talk about. Heard of
Cranston?"
Jack blinked.
"Who hasn't? Another reclusive multimillionaire from a line of
reclusive multimillionaires. If you ask me there's something in
American water that makes all of 'em go bonkers. Pfah, give me good
decent English nobility anyday."
"Well, make three guesses who the bloke off the street was and
the first two are wrong."
"You don't mean Cranston was the fellow who requested a second-
story?"
"That's what I mean. Couldn't believe it myself, but that's
what the card from the Cobalt Club says."
Jack whistled another long low whistle. Harry was always
irritated by it, since it had that slight trilling tone that made it
sound like Wildman was imitating a bird or something. But he agreed
with the sentiment. The Cobalt Club was America's Diogenes, though he
had heard it was plenty more relaxed than it was here.
"So... what's this Cranston bloke look like?" There was a
strange glow in Wildman's eyes when he asked the question. Lister could
almost see the golden flecks in Jack's eyes dancing around. But, that
must have just been a trick of the light.
"If you want to find out, you just look, Wildman. You got leave
to go up the second-story, I don't."
"Oh, c'mon, Harry. He's probably in the room already and I
can't exactly sneak in."
"Well, you'll see him sooner or later. But trust me, be ready
for the fright of your life."
"Why's that?"
Eyes that held a strange lambent glow, like a predator's... a
pale thin hawk face like a mask, as if there was another face beneath.
Harry shook himself and looked up at the taller man's gold-flecked
eyes.
"Trust me, Jack. Even you'd be frightened."

The Star Chamber of the Diogenes Club was probably the safest
place in all of London. It was guarded by the best that money could buy
and was protected by several structural safeguards from any natural or
unnatural disaster. All of its occupants had weathered many adventures
of their own and faced death in various encounters. But when the entity
calling itself Kenneth Clarke Cranston entered, all six members of
Diogenes' head council felt a tremble of fear.
"I apologize. Forgot about that."
The fear disappeared like it wasn't there. Sir Gerald Tarrant
narrowed his eyes. The being before him never forgot. It just wanted to
remind them of who had power here.
"No worry, old boy. Have a cigar." There was a smile on the
lips of the corpulent Duke de Richelieu, it seemed to be traditional
for a fat man to be on the council, as he sent a cigar flying towards
their guest. Cranston plucked it out of the air with skill.
"Ah. Forgot. Here's a lighter." Another flick of the wrist, de
Richelieu was deadly in his own manner, and the being before them
caught a bright object. The closed hand began to smoke. The duke looked
almost apologetic that Tarrant almost bought it himself.
"Sorry about that. I am getting forgetful in my old age."
Cranston arched an eyebrow as he held up his smoking hand and
lit the cigar with the offered light. Holding it up, the lighter
glistened in the dim light.
"Silver. Touche, duke." Then flung it back in a slow, languid
manner. The duke caught it deftly and Gerald thought for a moment that
he would stand up and bow.
"Now that we've established pack dominance, shouldn't we be
getting to business?" The clear voice of Miranda Mitchison was droll.
Being the only woman to have ever successfully been admitted into the
club, she always managed to rebuke her co-members into submission. She
was technically MI-5, but the triple-digit division and the letter
branches had always answered to Diogenes in the end. She reminded him
of a tougher Modesty, another surrogate child that he had outlived.
"Oh, hush, Miranda. Can't you see we're just being friendly to
the bloke?" That was Howard Blakeney, needling Miranda again. If this
were a schoolyard I'd say those two were attracted to each other,
Tarrant smugly thought. Blakeney had mastered the art of playing the
fop, but those delicate hands of his had killed more men for Queen and
Country than other members combined. He was currently answering
Miranda's glare with a relaxed, almost sleepy, look.
"Strange name to use, Mr. Allard," John Steed, another former
field agent, declared, using the name that he knew the entity before
them by, as he looked over the card that the being before them had
presented downstairs. "'Kenneth Clarke' indeed. Any idea of where that
particular contemporary of yours is?"
"In the company of another Doctor in a police call-box, I
believe."
Vagueness and obscurity, it seemed, was still the order of the
day.
"Ah, yes. The legendary police call-box. If I had a penny for
how many times I have to listen to Lethbridge-Stewart..." Brigadier
General Liam Hannay just shook his snowy mane. The general looked at
Cranston with a jaundiced eye. "So, what brings the world's greatest
detective to our humble quarters?"
The hawkish face smiled. In the dim light, the shadows around
him seemed to swim and ripple. The hand, girasol ring shifting color
from blue to violet to red, ran through black hair, smoothing it back.
Red eyes glowed faintly, in rhythm with the crimson tip of the smoking
cigar in the mouth. The silence was thick enough to cut with a knife.
The council's attention was glued to Cranston as he began.
"I have some things I'd like to tell you about."

Chapter 6 E Branch

"I have some things I'd like to tell you about."
Dr. Moira Quartermass and Dame Integra Helsing looked like two
opposite sides of a coin as they walked down E Branch's white sterile
halls. Pale skin and black hair and dressed in a feminine skirt and
blouse combination underneath her labcoat, Dr. Quartermass was a
counterpoint to Integra's mannish fashion, blonde hair and dark skin.
For some strange reason, their opposite looks irritated her to
no end. Her friendship with the female scientist was one of those
unexplainable things in life that plagued her.
"Moira, if this is another one of those-"
"Trust me, Numbers. It's not one of those things again. What?
You're giving me that look again."
"Will you find me a better nickname than 'Numbers',
Quartermass?"
"Can't find another, 'Integer'."
Another one of those unexplainable things that plagued her life
was why she hadn't killed her yet. Sartre was right. Hell was an
eternity with your friends.
Moira Quartermass was the scion of a scientific dynasty that
had made great contributions to the progress of science, though most of
those contributions had to be kept secret because they usually meant
'the end of life as we know it'. Moira had lived and breathed the
sciences ever since she could talk and she was probably the greatest
repository of profane scientific data on the planet.
She was also, in Integra's opinion, totally and completely
insane. Most people disagreed with her and called it 'genius', but they
hadn't had to room with her when they went to Oxford. The fact that
they were both hereditary leaders of their particular organizations
didn't help any.
Moira disdained of Integra's particular obsession with the
undead, even when Alucard made an unscheduled visit at the dormitory,
she was still dismissive of it. Integra was equally dismissive of
Moira's extraterrestrials, having had to hear of Uncle Alex's stories
about Daleks and disappearing police call-boxes one too many times.
Their respective personalities were also not exactly conducive
to smooth interpersonal relations. To Integra's eyes, Moira was crass,
insulting, had no respect for her social betters and squeezed the
toothpaste tube in the middle, in other words, a stinking commoner.
That Moira should automatically bow to her superior will and breeding
was a given. When she didn't, it only made her more determined to break
her.
Moira was of the same opinion, but of a different standpoint.
How dare this inbred ignorant noble order her around? Superstitious
little bint! She even believes in vampires! How medieval can you get?
Four years of gibes, insults, practical jokes and other sundry events
followed.
But, even through all that and maybe because of all that, they
became friends. Friends who occasionally wanted to kill each other, but
friendships with Integra were usually like that.
They hadn't seen each other in two years, but after five
minutes of meeting each other again, they fell back into their usual
patterns.
"I hope this doesn't concern those... what did you call them on
your last annual report? Ah, yes, your so-called 'Mysterons'-"
"Will you not do that!"
"Do what?" Integra's teasing drawl was like a purring cat's.
"Say Mysterons so that there is an implied quotation mark
around them. I don't do it with your so-called 'vampires'."
"Actually, you do."
"No, I don't."
"Moira, if we're going to start saying you-did-I-didn't we'll
be stuck in that particular rut for the entire day. Now let's act like
adults and just say you do and get on with it." One point for me,
Integra thought to herself as she was doing mental backflips in her
mind.
"Hmph. I would think that you with your pair of unnatural pair
of 'vampires' would be sympathetic to my little pet project."
"If you had called them a less... BBC children's show name, then
I'd be a lot more generous with my disbelief. The security council
would probably agree with me."
"But-hah! Here she comes, my little ace in the hole, to get more
funding-
"To fight the alien menace, I know, I know. Moira, Hellsing needs
more funding and I'd have to-"
Their conversation was interrupted by Moira pulling out a Beretta
9mm from her labcoat and pumping its entire clip into the woman dressed
in a red uniform who had come up to them and was about to say hello.
Integra just arched an eyebrow as the woman slid down the wall
and slumped on the ground. Motionless green eyes stared up at her from
behind a fan of crimson hair. She glanced to the scientist at her side
who was still holding the smoking gun in her hand. No one in E Branch
seemed to have noticed that their Director just shot one of their
workmates.
"You have a good explanation for this?"
Moira reloaded the Beretta and slid it back into her shoulder
holster.
"Dame Integra Helsing, I'd like you to meet Captain Samantha
Scarlett, formerly of Her Majesty's Armed Forces and currently
attached to E Branch."
"She's dead, Moira. She is not going to stand up and-"
"Uuuuhh..." Captain Scarlett groaned from her prone position on
the ground. Integra blinked and looked down at the red-haired woman as
she picked herself up from the ground. Integra glanced at her old
schoolmate and shrugged.
"So she's a regenerator. I can name at least one human
regenerator within my knowledge."
"Bah. I know of Iscariot's Father Anderson and I am certain that
he was created using 'occult' means." The quotation marks she gestured
with her hands were indicative of the doctor's disdain for such an
explanation.
"Oy, doc, did you really have to shoot me? This is the fifth
uniform I lost this way."
"Hush, Captain. It is all in the name of science, besides, the
uniforms are free."
"But clean-up's a bitch and half, doc."
"Sacrifices have to be made so that we may prove to these
Philistines my theories are correct."
Integra smiled thinly and brought the conversation back on
topic. "I am assuming from your tirade, that the Captain here proves
the existence of your 'Mysterons'?"
"Yes. You see, Samantha's condition of immortality is the result
of extraterrestrial tampering. She has survived even total cellular
disintegration and regenerated without loss in any cognitive faculties."
Integra glanced with an arched eyebrow to the svelte red-haired
woman who was looking faintly embarassed. "The doc didn't actually
intend to test if I could survive it...it just sort of happened and...
well... I had to stop Captain Black and the Mysterons..."
"Captain Black?"
"Captain Jeremiah Black was Samantha's former superior in the
Army, they were both abducted during a little expedition under E Branch
auspices. Unfortunately, Captain Black was totally subverted and serves
the Mysterons totally."
Despite herself, Integra was starting to become interested. "And
these Mysterons have been doing what?"
Moira's face contorted into a mask of hate. "Sabotage.
Assasination. They have started a secret war against the human race,
fortunately, we have Samantha here. Fate has made her indestructible
and she is our greatest weapon in our war."
Integra shifted her gaze from the passionate brunette scientist
to the rather embarassed red-head, who was trying to cover the holes
in her uniform. Captain Scarlett did'nt look like any superweapon. She
just shook her head. Not her problem.
"That's all very well, Moira, but my problem is vampires. I've
heard you made a breakthrough with the FREAK chips."
Moira looked at her despairingly. "But-"
"Moira, I'll talk about with Diogenes and we'll try to get you
better funding. Personally, if you need any help, you could just merge
E Branch with Hellsing and everything would be all right."
That last statement made Quartermass make a face of distaste.
"If you think-"
"Really, Moira, we should get back to the business at hand.
Besides, I think Captain Scarlett would want to get a new set of clothes."
And Integra Helsing makes another goal. The people in the stands
are going wild. Moira must be really losing her touch.
"Er...yeah...with your permission Doctor Quartermass..."
Captain Scarlett saluted- impressive chest that girl had- and moved
off.
"Now, Moira, about those FREAKs."
"Feh. I'll have to ask you to meet Giles down in the Arsenal."
"Who's Giles?"
"Our resident sorcerer."
"I didn't think you believed in 'sorcery'."
"'Sorcery' is just the skilled use of unknown natural law. Since
I still have to find a better word as a substitute, 'sorcery' is good
enough."
"So what are you waiting for? Let's go down."
Moira just stared at her with that resigned expression on her face,
a look that she had whenever she knew she was beaten.
"I hate you, you know?"
"I know."
The elevator pinged and they went.
Then they went down.

Notes:

Doc Savage and Hellsing: Doctor Savage's heritage in the Hellsing
world is rather large. See the second novel in this series, "Hell's
Doctor".
Diogenes Club: An alternate version of Anno Dracula's Diogenes
Club.
Latin dialogue: it's perfectly understandable if you know your
M.R. James and are skilled in English.
Shadow eating building: See The Shadow movie's Hotel Monolith
sequence in reverse.
Humor factor: I'm using the anime plot but injecting the manga flavor,
where it was more comedic.
Nazi vampires: The ultimate villains of any story. ^_^ From the Hellsing
manga.
Hellsing acronym: Totally canon. Look it up.
Dame Parvati Helsing: Imagine Himemiya Anthy as Buffy the Vampire Slayer
and you'll get my drift. Anthy the Vampire Slayer, anyone? ^_^
Virgin vampires: Hellsing manga vampirism.
Vampirisim. Vampire rules work different here. All wil be explained.
The three-figure divisions: Watch as Captain Bond bites off more than he
could chew in "You Can Die Twice". ^_^
Moira Quartermass: The final Quartermass movie had the good old prof's
granddaughter running around.
Captain Scarlett and the Mysterons: It should be noted that Chapter 6 should
be filmed in supermarionation. ^_^ E Branch will be more prominent in the
upcoming "The Day That Hell Stood Still".
Giles: Imagine a world without a Slayer, without a Watcher council. Trust
me,
he'll get work somehow.


*************************************************

DANCES SET TO THE MUSIC OF TIME
An Epic History of Humanity
From The Age of Silver
To The Age of Crystal
And Beyond

http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html

Other fanfiction by the same author:
http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html

Kindly archived by Larry F and
The Lost Library of Florestica:
http://rakhal.com/florestica/
*************************************************













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