Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Fare ❯ Primal Scream! Die Hellsing, Die! Part 2 ( Chapter 16 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Author's notes: The last few chapters have been more about creating an understanding of the story than anything else; now it's time to bring in some Alu-action. And, could you possibly spare five seconds to review so I know what you think of this? I have had maybe two reviews since chapter eleven. I know you're reading it; I just need to know your opinions. Flames are, as always, welcome.

He felt the gentle weight of thin metal frames and yellow glass in his gloved hand and slid the glasses on to his face. Alucard briskly walked the halls of Hellsing with a determination that could never be matched; should anyone be foolish enough to get in his way tonight, they would surely die.

Everything they had learned tonight was irrelevant, as far as he was concerned. Interesting, but irrelevant. He did not particularly care what plans Fate had laid out for him; he had long ago accepted it as fact that he would be the one to exterminate this new enemy. It was his duty, his right.

His boots, heavy though they were, made no sound. The whisper of his leather coat was the only noise now. He was without his hat; though unusual, it mattered little to him.

Alucard was not in the mood to worry about such things.

He stepped into Integral's office without knocking, as was his custom. What was the point of knocking when she could sense him coming?

“My master. You must leave this place.”

She looked up at him, appearing annoyed at his interruption, but he could sense the slight confusion underneath; though the irritation was certainly real, she was used to his interruptions. It was the fact that it had taken him so damned long to respond to her calls that pissed her off.

“I've been summoning you for the last ten minutes, Alucard. Where have you been?” she demanded.

He merely grinned, “I have been busy uncovering the plans of our enemy, my master. Do you not want to hear them?”

Integral sighed. Bleeding git.

“Tell me, then.”

He spoke not a single word. Instead, he showed her. She saw a glossy black floor and the blood splashed on the walls. She saw humans and vampires held captive, slowly transforming into something horrifying and empty. She saw a lovely, slender female vampire being awakened from a vampire's sleep, heard her story, heard their enemy's plans exposed.

Her face was expressionless. Then, she seemed thoughtful.

“Our men cannot fight these demons,” she said to herself grimly.

No one could fight them. They could not be killed. The soul-devouring monsters, so much worse then the average vampire, were indestructible. Unless you killed the one who made them. And only Alucard could do that.

Alucard grinned, pleased. Integral would not stop him from doing what he had to.

He phased out of the office without waiting for orders. He already knew them well. She had spoken them once this night; no need for her to repeat herself.

Tonight, it would be his pleasure to search and destroy.

He heard his master's phone call, and heard her leave her office, donning a coat as she went, preparing to leave the manor. The enemy was here; it was not safe for her. He walked down the basement hallway, the familiar cold stone greeting him.

He saw Abigail lying motionless on the floor. A frown creased his face. When he came to her side, he knelt, and turned her so that she lay on her back. Her eyes stared blankly up at him, unseeing.

The monsters had been here, led by the traitor himself. Somehow Alucard could taste Jonathan's scent on the air, even down here. Abigail was gone, despite her body lying there on the floor of Hellsing's basement.

The sound of a gunshot reverberated through the hallways as Alucard walked away from the ashes.

He phased, a short jump to the outside. And again, another short jump, until he could see the battle waging on the street ahead of him.

Ghouls poured into buildings and out of them, leaving the houses and apartment buildings strangely untouched. An army of ghouls, many thousands in numbers Alucard had rarely seen. A wicked grin spread over his face.

Ghouls were boring, but at least they could be killed. And it did seem as if the outnumbered human soldiers needed help.

He was in a generous, helpful sort of mood at the moment.

He raised his arm smoothly and fired shots into the mass of ghouls. Empty clip; easy problem to fix. Reload, fire again. And he did. He strode briskly down the road, killing ghouls as he went, ignoring the relieved looks and the calls of the Hellsing soldiers as he came to their aid.

After a time, his insatiable curiosity reared its head, and he went into one of the houses, to discover just exactly why the ghouls were leaving human residences alone, when normally they flocked to such places.

There were no obvious signs that would answer his question, only a mother and her two children hiding under a table, a small revolver clutched tightly in the mother's hands. He left before the woman wasted bullets on him. He went back out onto the street, crushing the head of a ghoul that had fallen under his heavy boot. He heard someone call his name and didn't bother turning around. He knew it was Victoria.

“Alucard,” she called again, “Wait up! Oh, damn it-”

His little blonde mate phased to his side and he ignored her. There was no excessive need to acknowledge her at the moment; and an instinct deep within him told him to drive her away, to keep her away from this battle, to make her safe. He had never felt that way before. He had never minded having her fight alongside him. It was different tonight.

“Get out of here,” he growled at her, not looking at her and not stopping as he spoke with her.

“No! I can't let you do this on your own. That aside I have orders from Sir Integra to assist in the battle here,” she argued.

He rolled his eyes and just that quickly, she disappeared. He sent her in the blink of an eye back to the basement of the mansion, locking her in his room with both the locks on the door and his own safeguards. He heard her scream of indignation inside his head and grinned a fangy grin. At least she was away from here.

Do you want to die tonight, Jonathan Hellsing?

It was not long before he approached the place where they waited, a secluded spot by the great river where, long ago, Victoria had dumped the body of Integral's husband into the racing water. He stopped on the side opposite them, strategically keeping his distance for the moment.

His wicked, maniacal grin did not falter as he saw the abominations standing on the riverbank opposite him.

“Hello, son of my master,” he said in that obscene, excited growl of his.

Alucard's crimson eyes widened, and his smile spread from ear to ear. His catlike pupils dilated at the thought of what was to come, a small rumble of borderline insane laughter sounding in his chest.

The foremost monster, paler in a different way than the rest, eyes still intact, shifted to the side, catching Alucard's attention. Alucard frowned slightly. Why was this one so familiar? This wasn't Jonathan; that he knew. Unless . . . oh God. Isaac. Jonathan's younger brother.

“Your betrayal runs deep, filth,” Alucard said, fury working into his voice, “There are no lines you would not cross, are there, Cain?”

A mocking laughter arose form behind the crowd of mutilated monsters.

Jonathan Hellsing, vampire, monster, traitor, stepped from behind his soul-less brother. His smug smile spread from ear to ear, as Alucard's once had. It didn't look like Jonathan's would be disappearing, though, as Alucard's had. Only death would erase that expression from that hated face.

A death Alucard would gladly deliver himself.

“A-lu-card, A-lu-card, thought he was so smart, so strong, A-lu-card, how wrong, how wrong he was, that A-lu-card,” Jonathan cackled in a sing-song voice.

A soft growl rose in Alucard's throat.

“Is it worth it?” he asked in a low voice, “Is it worth it, betraying your family, your country, your race? And what are you gaining from this, Cain? What did they offer you to give them your innocent Abel? What did he do to cross you?”

Alucard did not move, but suddenly his presence seemed to be larger than life. His voice was quiet, but the menace wrapped lovingly in every word was easy to hear, the underlying fury boiling up that would send shivers down the spine of any enemy.

Jonathan was no exception. He recovered so quickly, though, that it would have been easy for a human to miss the subtle shudder and flinch before he regained his composure. Not Alucard. Not the No Life King, the Prince of the undead.

“You all betrayed me,” Jonathan replied hatefully, “You allowed that vampire filth to destroy me, you wanted me dead! You took my Hellsing Organization from me. It was mine! My mother was not suited to lead these men. It was MY place!”

“I think someone needs to remind you of your place,” Alucard spat, raising the Jackal that had come obediently into his waiting hand, “You seem to have forgotten.”

Ever the coward, Jonathan stepped slightly behind the monster that was once his brother, using that body as a shield to protect him from Alucard's wrath. As if a bullet from the Jackal wouldn't rip its way easily through that sickly white flesh on its way to Jonathan's heart.

Clearly, Jonathan had forgotten the power that Alucard's favored weapon was capable of.

A shot, loud and violent, rang out into the air and a moment later an explosion of flesh blossomed from the chest of the once-Isaac. A piercing shriek followed Jonathan's attempt to evade as the bullet struck his side, missing his heart. Alucard didn't acknowledge the miss, simply fired again, and again, sweeping his weapon in front of him, following Jonathan as he darted to and fro, trying to avoid being hit again. But each bullet fired struck its intended target, missing the heart, each hit slowing Jonathan's desperate movements, and when one of the bullets finally clipped his leg, severing it, it brought him down.

Alucard was on the other side of the river in an instant, the Jackal aimed at the precise center of Jonathan's forehead.

The Hellsing traitor's eyes widened. The irises, a shade of velvet red, reflected Alucard's image back at him. There would be no escaping.

But before Alucard could pull the trigger, the silent, gently swaying abominations were suddenly jolted into action by a snap of Jonathan's fingers. They lunged for Alucard, grabbing at his coat, his hair, his hands and legs, trying to immobilize him. Thankfully these were nothing compared to the binding powers possessed by Alexander Anderson's accursed holy scripts, and so Alucard was able to slide himself fluidly from their grasp and phase across the river.

The touch of their bony, clammy hands chilled him even through the thick leather of his coat.

Jonathan's laughter, infuriating, sounded through the night.

Alucard hissed at him, a feral snarl tore up from his throat. He bared his magnificent, elegantly pointed fangs at the filth.

“You cannot get to me!” Jonathan cried, elated and mocking, “A-lu-card, you are not strong enough to destroy me, no matter how hard you try. How does that make you feel, A-lu-card? Does it make you angry, A-lu-card?”

The insane cackle shaking Jonathan's body was unlike anything that Alucard had heard or ever cared to hear.

As Jonathan threw up his hands, he exposed his wrists to Alucard's view. He exposed the sight of the small, pink, raised scars on his arms, the blasphemous symbols etched into his flesh by something more evil and more powerful than himself.

Jonathan, too, had been burned with the blood of their enemy. But he was not like the others. Which meant that they had found a way to perfect their art.

The gleaming madness in Jonathan's eyes suddenly seemed obvious. Jonathan chanted Alucard's name in a little sing-song voice, a childish rhyme to accompany it with its infuriating rhythm.

The soul was still inside the body, but the mind was long gone.

This was how they would bend the world to their will.

An insane vampire was the most dangerous of all.

“I almost pity you,” Alucard said softly.

He had fired a last round before Jonathan had had time to blink. The last round hit its mark, perfect, deadly, exploding through flesh, not slicing cleanly through it, on its way to Jonathan's heart.

The ashes bloomed, the mushroom cloud of what remained of Jonathan Hellsing coughing upward before dissipating into the air as if it had never been.

A scream, hateful and anguished, lingered even after the body had been destroyed.

Alucard was already walking away.