Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Nomine Patri ❯ Boston ( Chapter 5 )
Have I mentioned that I love Father Anderson? I really wish he was my parish priest instead of the bloody bastard we have. Father Azazael, as I've so lovingly our parish priest, would be considered a traitor to the faith, and well, *points* Demon! Father Alex! Get the Demon!
Sorry, I must amuse myself with my sick humor that no one else understands besides, well, me. Maybe ChanceTheChase does, but she doesn't seem to be posting around here too much.
Then again, she's Catholic too and has a priest that molested little boys.
So by the introduction, expect a weird chapter.
And review. It makes Mew happy.
Though his Church had forsaken him, Alexander Anderson silently protested the announcement that he would be sent to a parish outside of his home continent to become the head parish priest of a church in crisis. He continued prayer vigils every morning and evening inside St. Peter's, murmuring the words in both Latin and English, asking his God to not turn a deaf ear to this humble servant, but that if this were to be a test of his faith as so many Biblical figures and martyrs had to cope with, then he prayed to have the strength of Job, Peter, Paul, or any of the others he had learned to imitate in his life and his work.
But as his orders were given to head to a small parish outside of Boston where the former priest had been jailed for unthinkable acts of sodomy, Anderson knew that God had other plans for him. Perhaps he would be the salvation of the new Babylon. He only prayed that he could be such a vessel.
"Father Anderson?" A young priest stated as he walked behind the wild-eyed blond, kneeling behind him so that he could speak softly in Anderson's ear. "You received a telegram from a Father Johnny McCallister from the Archdiocese you are to be transferred to. I did not want to enter your quarters without permission," the young priest pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Anderson, "so I brought it here. Do not be angry, please."
"May God Bless You." Anderson whispered as he took the envelope, standing from the pew after blessing himself, and then genuflecting to the Sacred Host that was on display during Holy Hours before leaving the chapel.
Quickly returning to his room, Anderson shut the door, making sure to lock it so no one could see him if indeed McCallister had written about what he wished. Tearing open the envelope, he scanned the words quickly to see if there was any hope of hearing about his men and their accomplishments, but the telegram was simply business, explaining that Anderson was taking over for McCallister's senior pastor, and that it had been Father McCallister himself that had requested Father Anderson to come to Boston when the word of his banishment from Vatican City spread through the ranks of the Catholic Knights and beyond.
Perhaps the American did have some heart and sense about him. It was truly a pity that he had to be caught up in the scandal surrounding the Boston Archdiocese, for McCallister could have had a chance at becoming a Bishop or Cardinal, or something more than just a common Knight.
So tomorrow, Anderson would bid farewell to Europe for an undetermined amount of time to enter a crumbling archdiocese in one of the most scandal-filled sections of the world.
He thanked God that McCallister would be with him.
"Father Alex!" A young boy trotted up to the priest, still in his Catholic School uniform from the long day at school. "Sister Marguerite told me that you would be the best person to interview for what it's like to serve in the church since ya lived in another country for a long time! We hafta do a report in our religion class about different jobs in the church, and I thought that since you worked in Vatican City, you'd be really cool to talk to."
Alexander Anderson smiled, walking in front of the student to the stairs that led up to the St. Michaels, sitting down in plain view of the street and passersby, something that every priest had been told to do in the Boston area. There would be no more scandal, or so they hoped, by doing this.
"Of course Christopher. I'd be happy to tell you about my service to the Vatican." Anderson watched as the boy sat down on the stairs as well, pulling out a notebook and pen. "What exactly would you like to know?"
Christopher scribbled down Father Anderson's name on a piece of paper that Sister Marguerite had obviously given every student for a guideline for what to ask the clergy member they interviewed. "Well, what made you want to become a priest?"
"From a young age I wanted to go in to the service of my God. My mother encouraged me to do this, as it brought honor to our family, but I have always felt the need to spread the word of Christ to those who needed to be healed."
The boy wrote down only parts of what Anderson had said. "Ok, and, well, this isn't on here, but how did you get to actually work in Vatican City?"
"God chose me to be an exorcist. It was his doing that I worked in Vatican City and around the world."
"YOU were an exorcist!?!" Christopher set the notebook down, leaning closer to Anderson, obviously excited to hear such news. "Didja see people's heads spin around and hear voices and stuff!?!"
Anderson sighed, closing his eyes. "That was how movies showed it Christopher. It is much worse than that, and it is best for the rest of the world to not know what demons are truly like" he leaned close to Christopher, growling as he lowered his voice, "because they will make those weak in their faith go insane."
"So demons are real?"
Anderson stood up, glaring down at the boy, fingering the silver crucifix around his neck. "Yes. Go interview someone else son."
The afternoon did not seem to show signs of ending, since as soon as Christopher had left the church stairs, he told his friends about Anderson's former job, so practically every student of St. Michaels Catholic Academy had come to the rectory where the parish priests lived wanting to hear tales of the expulsion of demons from around the world.
"I didn't think it would cause such a fuss to mention that I was in the Knights."
McCallister clapped his hand on Anderson's back. "Alex, please tell me that you of all people didn't tell the children about the Knights."
Anderson smirked, the first semblance of a smile to cross his lips the entire day. "I know better than to say THAT, John. I said I was an exorcist, just like you do."
McCallister sighed, backing away from his former teacher. "I trust the students will forget about this in a week. Just don't bring any tales of what you did before up in their presence again."
Anderson just nodded, turning from the window to lie in his bed. Perhaps God would at least grant him peaceful dreams tonight.
He prayed that sleep could drive the pain from his soul.
Integral Hellsing sat at her desk in her oversized office, upset that Alucard had not once come to her tonight though she had called for him many times. She had been waiting for six hours. Six! He would pay as soon as he returned. . . . .
The young woman snapped back to reality with a start as she heard her telephone ring, quickly grabbing the receiver and placing it to her ear. "Yes?"
"Miss Hellsing," The drawling Italian accented voice of Enrico Maxwell was even sharper than usual, causing Integral to wait to hear what he actually had to say instead of hanging up immediately. "Your pet Vampire apparently has a liking for the blood of the Vatican. He killed Father Stanislaus Polaski by draining his blood, then shooting him as a common ghoul."
"Father Polaski should not be hunting vampires in England, Maxwell." She snapped back, upset that the Vatican had not warned her of their arrival in her territory. "If he was in my country, Alucard had every right to do with him as he pleased."
"Father Polaski was in Belgium when he was murdered by your monster. I have eyewitnesses and photographs to prove that it was your pet Alucard on the scene of the crime, so do not play innocent with me, Miss Hellsing."
Integral closed her eyes as she held the phone to her ear. There could be a million explanations as to why a priest was killed and as for why Alucard happened to be on the scene, but as she checked her email upon the instruction of Father Maxwell, the pictures were obviously not tampered with, and it was obviously Alucard draining blood from a victim in priest's clothing.
"How much will it take to compensate his parish?"
Maxwell chuckled; Integral could plainly hear the laughter through the phone. "Compensation? My dear, Alucard deserves a punishment worse than that of Father Anderson. I believe you asked for death as the extreme measure, and we allowed for exile to a parish outside the continent. I will leave Anderson in exile as long as you return Alucard to the dungeons and lock him up again, never to be released, but I would prefer death, as he is an aberration to God's work."
She sighed. "I will call him back home."
"Integral," She stopped partway through the motion to hang up the phone as she heard the voice through the speaker yet again. "Remember that if another priest dies according to vampiric hands, I will be forced to bring Anderson back to active duty."
The little Hellsing growled as she heard the dead phone signal hum after Maxwell placed the phone back on the receiver on his end. Alucard had killed a regenerator, to which she was actually proud of the vampire, but to upset the Vatican yet again was not a good idea. Not now anyway. She couldn't deal with Anderson without Alucard near her.
"That blasted vampire had better get his ass back here. . . ."