Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Nomine Patri ❯ The Recruits ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

It's Sunday morning as I type this. Can you guess where the inspiration for said fic is coming from?

I still don't own Hellsing or the Catholic Church.

And I'll still put any Latin translations at the bottom of the page.

~*~In Nomine Patri~*~

Chapter 2

There were twelve of them now, these new recruits that were to be trained as Holy Assassins and Exorcists. The Holy See had decreed that each continent would send two priests to be trained, and the last two, one from Australia and the other from South America, had arrived just yesterday.

The first to arrive were the Africans. Father Charles Akimbe, a black Kenyan, and Father Bartholomew Harrison, a white South African, exceeded Anderson's expectations as to what would be coming in to the program. Both men were extremely dedicated to their God and their church, and the level of their physical fitness was already near its peak, so training in martial arts and other battling techniques was coming along perfectly for both men.

Next were the Europeans. Father Stanislaus Pulaski, a Pole was highly favored by the Pope for his uncanny ability to banish demons and heal the sick with miracles sent by God. Anderson tolerated Father Stan, as the jovial man liked to be called, but disliked how the man refused to kill in the name of God. Father Jude van Baalen, a Belgian, did not stand out in any way, though he was not very coordinated, so wielding a blessed blade would most likely be a problem.

The Asian dioceses had a difficult time deciding on which men would be perfect for the job, and finally decided on one Korean, Father Kim Ya-Seung, and a missionary to India, Father Richard Anno. These men were just as good as the Africans which Anderson favored, but tended to add in Buddist and Hindu beliefs with the Holy Catholic Doctrine to their message of salvation, which Anderson was determined to drive from them.

The first two from Australia and South America were did not stand out in Anderson's mind. Both Father Stephen Fitzpatrick and Enrico Cortez followed their orders perfectly and never bothered anyone else. Anderson couldn't really complain about them.

He could complain about the American Priests. Father James King from the diocese of Houston was loud, unruly, drank too much beer, and had been accused of fathering a child or two with women of his parish. He was a good shot, but rarely showed up to practice on time due to a hangover. Father Jonathan McCallister from the Archdiocese of Boston was altogether another mess. Anderson believed that this man was just sent away from his area because of all the accusations of sexual misconduct flying around his archdiocese. It was a pity that the American people were such avid liars, as Father McCallister was an incredibly humble man, but at the same time, Anderson couldn't begin to bring himself to trust or like this man because of the accusations against him. And he was Irish. That should be enough for Anderson to want to end his pathetic existence.

He looked over the names of his men again, sighing as he mused on the two newest recruits, Father Kenneth Pennington from Sydney, and Miguel Vasquez from Argentina.

"Father Anderson?" The soft voice of McCallister drifted in to the small dorm-like room. "James has asked me if we were going to go out on missions soon. He's incredibly bored with all this training."

Alexander Anderson had to use his entire strength of will to not draw one of his blessed blades at that moment so he would not kill the damned meddling American.

"Father King should ask me this himself, and there is no way I'm sending a loose cannon such as him out to the field yet. Tell him to be more like Father Akimbe and then to ask me that again."

"Thank you Father. Kyrie."

Anderson mumbled the farewell to the visiting American, not pleased with the plan that God had set for him recently. It was fun to train these men, but nothing compared to actually vanquishing demons or vampires.

What he wouldn't give to face Alucard one more time. . . .

He blessed himself quickly. The devil was everywhere, and at this moment, he was tempting Anderson to return to the island policed by that Protestant sow and her pet demons. Let Hellsing deal with their own infernal problems. The Vatican controlled the rest of the world.


Every one of the twelve had finally reached a level of training that was acceptable to both God and Anderson, and today, the wild-eyed regenerator decided that his men would be put to the test.

A new outbreak of FREAKS had occurred in Ireland. And though he did not enjoy the Irish, Anderson would rather save them than watch the country turn in to ghouls and vampires.

It had been ages since Anderson had donned the traditional vestments of his profession, and today, he had decided on wearing a white robe adorned with beautiful golden designs of the Mysteries of the Faith for the coronation of his Holy Knights.

He prayed that God would send his power to each of his servants in this mission, for it would be a tragedy to lose any of these men, even Father King.

The training hall for the Holy Knights of Section XIII was hidden deep underground in one of the many unrecognized catacombs of Rome. While the rest of the city was bathed in the unnatural glow of electric and gas lights, this facility still used torches which had to be lit every morning by the men, and today, they had paid extra special attention to lighting every single torch that they could, for the usually dusky halls were bright with an orange light that filled every corner of the room.

The twelve men were seated at their dinner table enjoying a meal cooked by Father van Baalen of what looked to be lamb and some sort of greens that must be native to some other land. Anderson refrained from chuckling. The blasphemous thought of this being a new "Last Supper" with himself being like the Lord and Savior would not have been worth explaining to the bunch of religious men.

"Good evening Brothers." Anderson said with a feral grin, something that every one of the priests gathered knew meant that something that was a test of their faith would be taking place tonight.

"Ahh, Teacher," van Baalen stood from his place at the table to pull out a chair for Anderson that was by an empty plate. "I would be greatly honored for you to partake in the meal I have prepared."

"`sgood." King mumbled with a mouthful of lamb. "Jude's the best cook of all us."

"I am sorry, but I will be unable to partake this food with you tonight." Anderson sighed, not sure how the men would react to finally receiving orders for a real mission to destroy unholy demons. Each had been exorcists in their own right before becoming regenerators, but those were only of minor demons. Vampires and the like were a totally different level of work.

"What is wrong Teacher?" Akimbe smiled, not sure what to make of this situation.

"I have a mission for you."

Every single member of the twelve set their utensils down and stared at their mentor. It had been a year since they had arrived in Rome, and with how Anderson belittled each of them in training, it seemed as if they'd never be allowed to go on real missions.

"Where is this mission?" McCallister's soft voice broke the silence after a few moments. "And which of us will be going? But most importantly, will you be going?"

Anderson closed his eyes. He had expected the Holy Knights to jump at the chance to use their new skills in a real situation. The silence of all but one American was enough to terrify him.

"You are all ready for this mission. God has shown me that it is time for you to take the lead in continuing the work of his Son." Walking over to a world map that hung on the wall, he pointed to the island of Ireland. "In Dublin, there has been a surge in the number of FREAK vampires in the past month. Reports from the local authorities suggest that there are as many as fifty-seven FREAK vampires and countless ghouls taking over the city. According to the treaty agreed to with the Hellsing Organization, they are supposed to keep watch over those islands that make up the United Kingdom, as well as every outlying island nearby, but two days ago my superiors received a letter from the leader of the Hellsing Organization asking for our help since she is out of men to destroy these demons."

Van Baalen couldn't help but chuckle. "Miss Hellsing asked for help from US? How totally out of character!"

"The leader of Hellsing is a woman?" Father Harrison snorted as he began to eat his meal again. "No wonder their organization could not handle such an outbreak!"

"Wasn't Abram van Hellsing her great grandfather? And wasn't he Catholic? Why would that ignorant woman turn away from God if she planned on leading an organization against demons?" Pulaski mused, distracted by the lore he had heard about the Hellsing family.

"Brothers." Anderson snapped at the group, turning their attention back to him and their upcoming mission. "I wish to see you complete this mission as a group, but I will travel with you in order to assist if needed." He raised his eyes to the men gathered around the table. "We will leave in an hour. Please be assembled and ready to go at the train station just outside St. Michaels by then. Kyrie. Amen."

Anderson turned from the group, hoping that each of his men would be up to fulfilling God's work tonight.


Ok. So no Latin was used in this part that I didn't explain in part one. Please review and tell me what you think!