Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Fare ❯ Primal Scream! Die Hellsing, Die! Part 1 ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Author's note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN

At first it felt so good. A surge of energy, like an electric current, moved through him, buzzed through his veins, and he felt that he could trace the vessels' many pathways through his body by this feeling alone. And then . . . . there was nothing but pain. It moved him, shook him, raised his body off the cold metal surface and, ultimately, humiliated him. He cursed, yelled, threatened. He screamed. He begged for it to stop. Sobbed like a child when it didn't; cried helplessly for a period of time unknown to him. There was no light there, no indication of how long he had been held strapped to the tabletop, spreadeagled, naked. How long he lay there while they burned him with her blood.

The circles of blood they traced on his abdomen and the pain they brought were forever scorched into his memory. The feel of her hands, so soft, the touch on his skin so gentle, the mind-numbing agony that arose from that slight contact, would be forever in his mind. Forever a part of him, his living flesh. Because that gaping, raw wound did not heal. He felt sick inside knowing it never would.

But he was immortal. That was what mattered most. He would live forever, and Hellsing would fall.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Where is Malakai?”

Abigail glanced around the room, cast out her senses, and came up empty.

“He didn't come back with you?” she asked warily.

“No, he didn't . . . I though he did . . . but we left so suddenly . . .” Victoria replied, anxiety creeping up her spine.

“Damn. You left him there?! With those things?!” Abigail exclaimed, standing so suddenly that the chair tipped backwards, anger and panic building in her chest.

“Oh, God.”

Victoria felt sick.

* * * * * * * * * *

She didn't speak as she approached him, but she really didn't need to. The grass whispered against her legs as she walked, telling him that someone was coming. The ground shook ever so slightly with her passing, telling him of her graceful step. The air carried her scent, the familiar sweetness of blood mingled with the unfamiliar smell of her body; telling him, as nothing else could have, that she was a vampire. And that, like him, she was many hundreds of years old.

He didn't need to open his eyes to picture the shining crimson irises she was sure to have.

It was his vision approaching him. A strange thrill ran up his spine.

“From Fate. She comes.

He heard the final footstep fall before she stopped several feet away and knew she would come no closer. He opened his eyes.

“Beautiful night,” she commented quietly.

“Yes,” he replied, casting a glance to the silver shine of the brilliantly full moon.

Malakai didn't know what else to say. Odd, really, because he had never been at a loss for words before.

So instead of making a fool of himself with words as he knew he would, he turned to look at her in silence.

She was everything she had been in his vision, brought to glorious life. Everything from her graceful, casual posture to the shimmer of her wine-red eyes to the silver glow of her skin under the moonlight.

And what he felt from her was just as real.

There are certain emotions not normally present in vampires. Gentleness, compassion, and humility are strange companions for bloodlust, rage, and love of destruction. Wisdom of the darkest nature was perfectly common; but the deep, intimate knowledge of passion and love of life he could see on her face were rare even among the best of humans, much less the undead.

Yet here it was. Malakai felt it radiating off her the way he felt Alucard's constant bloodlust, his love for Victoria, the sickly-sweet tinge of madness lurking in his mind.

She was a walking contradiction. Her vampire soul, full of darkness, coexisting with the light of her heart in a way that colored her life a strange shade of grey. He could see it in her smile, the curve of her mouth that was neither cynical nor sweet.

That strange thrill ran up his spine again.

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked him.

“Not really. I didn't know when you were supposed to show up. I only knew it would be here,” he confessed.

Her small half-smile grew. The blatant affection on her face was unsettling to him, though somehow he felt that it was right, because she had been here all along, hadn't she?

“From Everywhere. From Nowhere. From Fate. She comes.

Suddenly, he saw her turn her gaze to the mutilated creatures standing in the shadows.

“It's so sad,” she murmured, “That they would give so much for such a lie.”

“I don't understand,” he said.

She turned her gaze back to him, matching crimson eyes meeting as her expression became thoughtful and his showed that he was clearly not paying attention.

“You will know soon,” she told him softly, “More than you ever wanted to know.”

He didn't like the sound of that. No; he really just did not like the sound of that at all.

But it wasn't like he was getting a choice.

It was at precisely that moment that he finally sensed the other vampire.

Well fuck me sideways, he thought irritably, If I'm not just asking to be killed tonight.

The other vampire walked slowly and calmly to stand beside her, and Malakai, irritated as hell, took a moment to observe them. The newcomer oriented himself around her comfortably, looking very much as if he belonged there at her side. They were nonthreatening, in a way, simply because of the serene expression on their faces, but it was clear that they could be very, very dangerous when threatened themselves. Malakai, however, had no intention of threatening them.

“Shall we go?” Malakai asked, smiling grimly.

One more thing to irritate Alucard. Splendid.

* * * * * * * * * *

His eyes narrowed as he focused on Hellsing Manor. It was so quiet . . . . . . .

It almost made him laugh. Did they think they were so safe? Did they not think that he would be coming back? They had forgotten about him so quickly.

His howl of fury tore itself out of his throat and shattered the peace of the moonlit night. The inarticulate cry was accompanied by a powerful mental voice that shook the earth and sent all creatures of the night into high alert. Dogs and wolves howled in agony and fear, and cats screamed, and small human children, sensitive enough to sense the activities of the undead even in their dreams, woke sobbing.


* * * * * * * * * *

Victoria had been sitting in the library when she heard it, poring over books of vampire lore, trying to look for something to explain the strange way her body and mind had been changing lately.

The silent scream ripped right through her. She clapped her hands over her ears, trying to stifle the noise, but with no result. It was all inside her mind. She called for Alucard, and began trying to weave a barrier around her mind, tried to close herself off from this painful invasion. She passed out on the library floor.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alucard lounged in the beat, rough wooden chair. There was nothing for him to do tonight, again, and he was confined to the house for some off-color comment he'd made, something about having to go slaughter a village just to get some entertainment. Integra had not been amused, and so to punish him she had ordered him not to leave the basement. Again.

“'Unless hell spills over onto the earth, I don't want to see you',” Alucard quoted mockingly.

And then he heard the howling cry, the soundless roar of fury ringing inside his head, powerful enough to move the earth, powerful enough to break into Alucard's psyche without a formal mental link. And he heard Victoria's scream of agony, pleading with him to help her, and felt her fall unconscious.

Son of a bitch. Alucard shot out of the chair, phased himself out of the stone basement and into the library. Because it sounded an awful lot like hell had spilled over to him, and he wasn't going to sit around waiting for his master to agree.

* * * * * * * * * *

Malakai had taken the form of a mist, wanting to soak up every last second out in the fresh air and the moonlight before going into the stone confines of Hellsing. The others followed him, and the three of them blended together in a gentle white fog that mixed well with the existing weather conditions.

And the it hit him, knocking him into his human form so violently and so abruptly that he fell from the air and slammed down onto the hard ground with a loud thud, and then a thunderous crack. It felt like he had broken some bones.

Then the female fell, landing hard on her knees and skidding a small ways across the dirt. The male landed hard, but he landed on his feet. The force left an impression of his feet in the ground. Malakai groaned as he stood, feeling the broken pieces of bone rubbing against each other with a scrape that made his teeth clench. He inhaled deeply, feeling each fracture heal, paying careful attention to the long, slender bones of his hand, making sure that each break mended perfectly. When he was absolutely sure that it was taken care of, he turned to his companions.

The female's knees are scraped, he thought to himself, smelling her blood. And then an irritating thought came to mind; he still did not know what to call them.

“The thought just occurred to me,” he said, “I can't keep thinking of you as 'the male' and 'the female'. I still don't know your names.”

The female, who had been crouched down and watching the scraped and bloody skin of her knees heal with something like fascination, straightened with a smile.

“I am called Deyavi,” she smiled, “He is called Gavril.”

He smiled in return. Vampires were not in the habit of sharing their birth names with each other, and since the change from human into vampire was seen as being a second birth of sorts, they usually gave themselves a new name to symbolize their new life. This was so even for most originals. She had told him the name she had chosen for herself, in true vampire custom.

“Name's Malakai,” he replied.

Deyavi nodded absently as she scanned the sky.

“What was that?” she murmured.

“It was a . . . mental shout. Loud enough to knock us out of the sky, apparently.”

“It was a voice I recognized,” Malakai muttered, trying to remember who it was that had a voice like that . . .

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Deyavi gave him a knowing look.



* * * * * * * * * *

Alucard appeared in the library, and lifted Victoria from the floor. At his touch, the strong mental barrier around his own mind encompassed hers, shielding her from the violent echoes of the psychic force that had threatened to drown her. As soon as he touched her, she woke up.

“Alucard,” she said groggily, touching her head delicately as if she was afraid it would break.

“Get up,” he commanded, helping her stand as he spoke, “We must find my master.”

When Victoria was righted, the phased into the office, finding Integra holding her head in that way she did when suffering from a massive migraine.

“Alucard,” she said angrily upon seeing him, preparing to launch into a furious tirade, “I told you-”

“Hell has officially spilled over, My master,” Alucard smiled.

Integral froze.

“Then that was-”

“The screech of the devil blasting through the gates of Hades, most likely.”

Integral's face grew hard and cold. She pressed a button of her telephone and barked quick orders to Adam before turning back to Alucard and Victoria.

“Search and Destroy.”

“Yes, My master.”

Alucard and Victoria phased out of the office.

The dark, ear-to-ear grin on Alucard's face was enough to frighten even the bravest of Hellsing soldiers. To Integra, it was just Alucard going to work. She was used to it.

As ghouls and monsters made of shadow poured into London, the soldiers of the Hellsing Organization prepared for battle and deployed. The vampires of the Hellsing Organization skipped over the distraction. They flew as a swarm of bats to the source of the problem.