Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Failure ❯ Chapter 1

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Standard disclaimer: I own nothing.




The old retainer had left, with a cordial nod and repeating his offer. "Should you require anything, Miss Victoria, do not hesitate to ask for my assistance." The heavy door had closed behind him with a barely audible click. Seras Victoria was alone in her new quarters.

When she caught herself pacing, round and round the underground chamber, running a gloved hand along bricked- up window openings, she stopped in her tracks. It only made her more restless. She regarded her right hand with weary curiosity. Apart from the silver-scorched tip of her index finger, the white cloth was now stained faintly green from the fine mould that covered every stone down here.

Sighing heavily, Seras draped herself on the bed- or coffin, propped up on one elbow, resting her head in her palm and staring into space. So this was to be her dungeon. Somehow, it felt appropriate. Hadn´t she deserved some punishment? That woman had nearly died, dragged into the gutter by a vampire, all because she, Seras, had lost her nerve... Shame and guilt churned in her gut, making her feel faintly sick.

Seras flipped over onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow. A sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan escaped her, muffled by dusty smelling down. It did not do to dwell on a botched job, she knew that much. The mission had not failed and that was all that mattered, she told herself firmly.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. The whirlpool of thoughts and images in her head would finally drag her down into oblivion and allow her a much needed rest. But even curled up on her side, taking deep, calming breaths out of habit, she seemed to grow constantly more awake. Her sense of hearing picked up acutely on the tiniest of sounds- the crunch of gravel over ground as a car arrived and stopped, a double set of footsteps entering the mansion, a shadow of Walter´s voice welcoming the guests. There was the rapid, irregular beat of gunfire in the shooting range, and, underlying everything, the manifold noises of water; tiny gurgling sounds in the plumbing, a dripping pipe somewhere nearby, even the ever present trickle of moisture that seeped into every wall of the Hellsing basement. When it became an effort to keep her eyes closed, Seras gave in and let them open. "No more sleeping at night, I guess." she said softly to herself, realising.

The constant presence of her Master in the back of her mind was something she hardly noticed anymore, but it seemed to grow stronger as she wandered back to her memories of the first night. Through the haze of pain and mortal terror, she had watched him with a fascination that was beyond fear. He had seemed so solemn as he knelt down beside her, intensely concentrated. She could not help the notion that there was something tremendously rare and important to happen, something almost sacred.

Smiling to herself, Seras lightly touched the side of her neck where the tiny wounds had been. Failure had brought her here, into the grave that was to be her home, under the spell of her Master, under the command of the Organization. If all that was left to her was making sure she would not fail them and herself again, that was exactly what she would do.

With one fluent movement, she swung her legs out of her coffin- bed and stood. The night was still young and her body demanded action. Leaving her dungeon behind, she wandered up the long flight of stairs, heading for the shooting range.