Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Our Beginning ❯ Hunted ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
The weight of her head into the pillow eventually restrained her breathing to the point that she was finally forced to stir in order to turn her face towards fresher air. The sound of rain running harder down the old windows went scarcely noticed as her eyes opened regretfully to focus on the oversized glow of numbers now reading 8:09 from the nightstand.
It'd only been a couple of wasted hours then. Still she felt no better. The world was just as she'd left it, though what could she have expected to wake up to? Nothing was going to change now. Her mind was like a weighted sinkhole, sluggishly consuming itself in “what ifs” and anxiety on par with someone days lost in a foreign wilderness.
The girl smiled half heartedly at the mental picture of herself like some wayward explorer, suddenly thrown into the midst of a jungle without so much as a compass or single survival skill. Alone in a clearing maybe as the night grew dark and the sounds of unseen -yet assumedly hungry- creatures began to amplify all around.
Hah, poor little her then. A brief sense of levity gained, she finally let her eyes drift to the nearest window. Real life darkness now filled up the narrow viewing space between the heavy drapes, and for a moment she wondered if it was night where he was as well. Though no, most likely not. Too far away for the night to swallow both continents for long wasn't it?
Maybe it wasn't thundering there either, perhaps wherever he was it was actually quiet enough for him to hear a number of small, ambient sounds. Like the dry ring of an old phone on some dingy wall perhaps. The outdated, well worn kind she preferred to imagine in some third-world, foreign outpost.
Before she'd sprawled down into her sheets earlier in another try to move faster past the deadness of tonight, she'd promised herself that she wasn't going to attempt bothering him again. Because he'd told her the last time that this would take two more days at most. Two if there were further delays, but only one if he was able to have everything for his trip home proceed smoothly. So perhaps only one day until Walter would return back from across the wide ocean then.
And besides, it was ridiculous to tell anyone -even him- the kind of thoughts she was now thinking. About how bothered she was letting herself become over mad ideas and worries her mind was making up for her all on its own. As if losing her father alone hadn't been enough to break the image of life as she'd known it into a mess of irretrievable pieces.
No, now it'd gotten to the point that she actually preferred to shut herself up in her room for bloody “naps” whenever finally tired of walking on eggshells around Uncle all day. Even if her need to hold her tongue out of respect for an only surviving relative was beginning to fade, she knew it still wouldn't do to actually break out into an actual argument with the man. Not in front of the soldiers or anyone like that at least. Not when morale and faith in the Organization's future was already half in the toilet as was.
But if forcedly civil bickering and the occasional glimpse of contempt in an Uncle's patronizing smile were the worst of it, she'd never have been contemplating another masked distress signal to the old butler in the first place. Going “crying off to Walter” each time something unnerved her a bit certainly wasn't a pattern she ever wished to establish for herself.
Yet there was no other person to speak to. Even if all she wanted was an attentive ear to relate her silliness to. Someone to nod and say her imagination was only running away with itself. For them to insist Uncle was still the same unlikable man he'd always been, and that there was no reason for her to take any more notice of him now. Because in your own home you should feel safe shouldn't you? Among your own family you should feel at comfort. You shouldn't feel the need to lock yourself in a bedroom and wish to sleep until all dust had settled again.
With a sigh that resemble more of a huff, she finally forced herself to sitting. The thickness of the comforter added with an overly soft mattress seeming to make the bed only wish to keep and swallow her there as she swung her legs stiffly to the side. A warm bath would do for now. About all there was to do really, and it was time she changed from her school clothing anyway at this hour.
She didn't know what she was going to do about him really. She was certain this couldn't go on, but where should she start? Uncle clearly wasn't going to be the one to change or give her an inch of leeway. No, it seemed quite the opposite. It'd only been days since she'd unofficially become the new head of the family by dying decree of her father and already she was so scrutinized at every move. Disrespected and spoken to in condescending tones. By everyone really, but who was really to blame?
After gathering her nightclothes from the bureau, she entered the room's adjoining bath, flicking on the light as she placed the folded pajamas atop the marble counter. One glance to the mirror before her and she knew what inescapable things were already holding her back. That unknowing face, naïve eyes staring back at her. Someone so small to them. A girl, just a little girl was the only person they saw. No man would listen to that but out of kindness. Kind people like her father and Walter.
Neither of which were here when she needed them it seemed.
Even with the bathroom door open, she'd never hear someone rattling the handle of the bedroom door. Though had they knocked as well she probably wouldn't have heard so either as the storm outside continued to echo through the old mansion. The first thing she could have ever heard was the call of her name as she looked away from the mirror. Startled to meet eyes with men already standing in the threshold, cornered as her mind tried to ration what emotion to take.
The door was locked…
“This is an emergency, Miss Hellsing.”
They picked the lock.
“You have to come with us immediately, please hurry.”
No, tell me why first.
The surprise was only on their faces as she pulled her wrist away from the first of the men to reach for her. She knew nothing, and that was bad enough at this moment. Her voice was far from accepting. “Then why don't you look alarmed?”
A moment of quiet. No, this wasn't how it was meant to go. Not so soon anyway. “Details later, Miss, please there's a threat to security. Your Uncle wishes you brought to the safe room as quickly as possible.”
Wrong wording, wrong tone, wrong something as she only moved a further step back. Instantly, body language was carrying a conversation back and forth though no one else yet dared to speak.
Threat from who? I don't trust your faces. I don't.
“Okay.” She finally spoke into the silence.
Just get out. Run. Run as fast you can.
No, she didn't know anything. Nothing but her heartbeat in her ears as she eventually started to follow them back out into the bedroom. Their jackets were hanging partly open. Every agent had a holster beneath that jacket, a gun in easy reach of course.
Reason doesn't matter. The hallway. As soon as the hallway, go. The next hallway without looking back. Bullets can't turn corners.
Her muscles relaxed, she put her attention far away. As far as she could as if her thoughts might scream through in every movement she made unless she tried to hide it. Hide her thoughts as they passed the threshold that joined her bedroom to the dimly lit corridor. She waited as the three men began to turn, away from the hall's intersection as her mind only targeted it.
A desperate jerk to the side, evading a hand that never even reached. They didn't expect it. God, they really didn't! Long legs flooded with adrenalin. Seconds before they even chased her, so caught off guard. How had that worked?
Your eyes are too naïve. That's why.
Yes, mirrors didn't lie. She knew that. People put far too much faith in them as well though. Far too much.
She couldn't be sure how long she'd been crawling around through the dust like that. How much time had passed before she finally heard his voice bellowing up for her through the maze of creaking metal before her. The traitor as she would only refer to him now. With the tears burning as she scraped her knees and let the drops blur her glasses. He didn't need to tell her that she'd trapped herself. She knew there would be no leaving now. Not until Hellsing blood was smeared somewhere in this place. This is what he wanted more than anything. And madness like that could never be reasoned with. Her chances were so slim.
It was only when he spoke of her father that she had actually first thought of this option. That she had remembered a last little straw of salvation. When there was nothing left to help her, when her enemies were closing in at all sides. It's what father had said, and it was all she had left in the world to try.
Had father known it would come to this though? Is that why he'd said-
No. She wanted no more thoughts of being the only one to not see this web before it'd eventually ensnared her.
All the way to the dungeons, she'd go there without any more second guessing. Because there was something there. Something when she'd take anything. Yes, this was naïve at its finest.