Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Tales of the Iscariot Jerikor Veorraent ❯ Tales of the Iscariot Jerikor Veorraent ( Chapter 1 )

Tales of Jerikor Veorraent Chapter 1

To his Eminence,

The following is a report compiled by myself, your most humble servant, describing the shadowy organisation that is the Vatican's Special Task Force 13, otherwise named the Iscariot Organisation. This secretive task force functions outside of any authority save that of the Pope himself, and their fanatical leader Enrico Maxwell. The purpose of the Iscariot Organisation is to destroy abominations in the eyes of God, that is Nosferatu, Lycanthropes, and Daemons, as well as mortal foes such as Satanic Cults, terrorists and anyone threatening or targeting the Holy Church. Its methods are extreme, almost always using violence through weapons like axes and swords as well as firearms. It is also known that members of the Iscariot Organisation are also priest and clerics of the church proper. How can such violent men and women be part of a non-aggressive church? It is rumoured that they even employ magick and sorcery amongst their armoury. Even amongst the ranks of their Paladins (so are called the brothers of the order) they have several non-humans, most commonly the regenerator. A human who either has the gift of, or have been cybernetically enhanced to be able to regenerate wounds in an instant, making them almost indestructible. They apparently even have several Nosferatu and lycanthropes amongst their number, the very creatures they claim to hunt! Obviously the hypocritical Iscariot Organisation is a threat to the reputation of the Church, and should their existence become known, as well as their quarry and methods, then the Church would lose all credence to the outside world. It is my opinion that the Iscariot Organisation should be disbanded immediately, and their vile creations destroyed, before they fulfil the destiny of their name, and betray the Church like Judas betrayed Christ…

Paladin Jerikor Veorraent lowered the report and laughed mirthlessly. His huge 7 and a half-foot frame towered over the occupants of the room. He was slightly skinny, but his movements are sure and graceful, as well as containing a tensed strength. His unusual purple eyes gleamed with inner fire behind mirrored, sunglasses. A shapeless wide-brimmed black hat was crammed atop his unruly mass of long green hair, unusual in the wide streak of white that ran through it. He wore pure white clothes, a simple shirt and pants, a priest's collar fastened around his neck. A full-length black leather duster shrouded his enormous frame. His long, wiry arms ended in hands covered with white fingerless gloves, his left bore a pentacle with arcane symbols in the spaces, and around the edge in Latin was written "In Nomine Patris et Fili et Spiritus Sancti (1)" and a cross was in the middle of the pentacle, whilst his right hand bore a cross, over which was written "Speak with Dead". His fingered glittered with all manner of rings, all bearing symbols such as crosses, pentacles, yin-yangs and chaos stars. Around his neck a large silver cross hung, as well as a smaller Inquisitor's cross. His voice was a deep baritone, with the hint of an Irish lilt accenting his voice.

Jerikor turned to the other person in the room, Enrico Maxwell, who had summoned him. "Do you want me to kill the person who wrote this?" he asked.

"He has already been taken care of," Enrico said.

"Shame, I would have liked to hang him upside down over a pack of ravenous ghouls, and watched him disbelieve them then!" He chuckled at the thought of the priest dangling over the pack of ghouls, and then switched the priest with Enrico.

As if sensing his thoughts Enrico snapped, "You're not allowed to harm members of the church!"

"Hmmm? If you say so, master" he said the last word sarcastically, "So why did you summon me? Surely not to exchange pleasantries?"

"It is never a pleasure to see you," spat Enrico, "There is a FREAK outbreak in Venice, you need to stop it."

"Need?" Jerikor laughed, "Send your pet regenerators, I have better things to do than deal with boring FREAKs."

"I have," Enrico said grimly, "3, none have returned."

"Ohh, what a shame"

"This is a direct order from your master!" Shouted Enrico, spittle flying from his mouth.

"Okay I heard you. That's great, if they can defeat your regenerators, maybe they might just prove a challenge to alleviate my boredom."

"You will go and destroy this unholy blight in Holy Rome's blessed territory leave none alive, smite them with holy rage, send them to the deepest pits of hell. Sever their souls and send them screaming back to the Devil, who they serve, you are a holy instrument of divine justice, and you shall…" Enrico raved.

Jerikor left, half way through Enrico's rave, who didn't notice him leaving, and continued on. What was important to Jerikor was that for the first time in years, the restraints on his powers had been lifted, and it felt wonderful. He exulted as he felt almost forgotten power course through his veins, penetrating his very being. He laughed manically, "Excellent, they must be powerful indeed if they give me this much freedom, I could destroy the Vatican and everyone in it with this power." He laughed again, even more manically, "I must remember to thank the enemies before I destroy them, so they can understand the joy they have brought me. I am going to enjoy myself. Venice, ehh? The city of love, if I still have time, I might be able to enjoy some human company." He laughed again as he walked into and through a wall, leaving nothing but the ghost of his laughter ringing through the halls.

He blinked and he was in Venice, on a waterbus, as all the main roads in Venice were in fact rivers. The people around looked startled, both at his height and appearance, and at his sudden apparition in their midst. He kissed the cross hanging around his neck and said, "Deus Benedict (2)" Getting off, he headed towards the main park, where the local police, despite their lack expertise, was barely containing the FREAK outbreak. Venice hadn't changed much since he had last been here, some two hundred years ago, although he never took much notice of mortal time. He noticed a large increase in cheap hotels, brothels and prostitutes standing paralysed in lamplight. This is what happens when the world in left in human hands, they change the one of the most beautiful cities in the world into a huge brothel, he thought sadly. Soon, he arrived at the park, it's entrances blocked of by police cars, as police shot at the ghouls emerging from the park.

"Laudans invocabo Dominium, et ab inimicis meis salvo ero, (3)" Jerikor intoned, leaping over the police cars, he heard the shouts of warning from the police but paid them no heed, indeed, no-one seemed overly eager to try and stop the seven and a half foot priest. The ghouls immediately reacted to his presence, reaching out for him, trying to pull him down and feast on his body. His punches disintegrated ghouls wherever he struck, turning them to ash. Soon a pile of ash surrounded him, his enemies defeated.

"Hmm? I thought this was going to be interesting, a challenge. Ghouls are ghouls; so boring" Jerikor muttered to himself.

He proceeded deeper into the park, destroying any ghouls he came across. He arrived in the middle of the park, where a figure in a grey overcoat sat smoking cigarettes. He looked up when Jerikor arrived, his red eyes giving away his true nature.

"Nice night ehh, Nosferatu?" Jerikor asked the vampire.

"What are you?" the figure demanded.

"Ohh, no time for pleasantries?"

"Are you another measly regenerator sent by a hypocritical church? A mere man cannot kill an immortal you know?" the figure said, standing and crushing his cigarette under his heel.

"Ohh, I'm like those you fought before," replied Jerikor, slowly drawing his guns, one from a shoulder holster and the other from the hip. The guns were heavily modified Mark XIX Desert Eagles, modified to match his size, they were about 40 centimetres long and covered with religious iconography. Chambering .50AE calibre bullets made of silver and full of blessed quicksilver, each clip contained 7 bullets.

"Indeed, you must be, I can feel something…odd about you." The figure said, drawing his own weapon, a 9mm Heckler and Koch MP5.

"Shall we start, or shall we just wait until sunrise to save me the trouble."

"I'm ready when you are, Priest of Judas," the vampire snarled.

They both moved. The vampire jumped back, his MP5 spitting a hail of bullets in Jerikor's direction. Jerikor turned side on, and raising his pistol and firing a single shot. The casing fell to the floor, with a dull clink; whilst the bullet blew the vampire's leg clean off. The vampire's bullets pattered off Jerikor like rain. The vampire tried to land, but without his leg, he fell on his back and tried to rise, his eyes wide with fear.

"What are you?" he stammered as Jerikor stepped on his chest, pinning him to the ground. The vampire's gun spat out more bullets at point blank range, but had no effect on Jerikor. Jerikor shoved his gun in the vampire's face.

"A priest of Judas. Abi in diabolus rem! (4)" Jerikor said, pulling the trigger. The vampire's head exploded, and his body turned to dust. Jerikor lit a cigarette, and started thinking. The restraints had not been re-established, so obviously he had not finished his mission, yet there were no other FREAKs in the park, unless they were very well concealed, so obviously he had to find them.

"Oh well, the enemy will show itself soon" Jerikor said to himself, re-holstering his pistols. He strolled out of the park, casually destroying the ghouls who crossed his path. He decided to walk around Venice and see what his presence drew out. He did not have to wait long. An hour later, as he walked down a back alley, a hail of machine gun fire impacted into his body.

"Bah, how many times do I have to tell you," he yelled, spinning and drawing throwing knives from various parts of his clothing, "Guns don't work!" He hurled his knives at his assailants, all minor vampires; dust flew as the dozen ambushers were destroyed. He walked on, leaving nothing but dust and bullets in his wake. He was subjected to three more attacks, until something interesting happened. Until then, the foes had been weak, low-powered vampires, albeit a lot of them, and well equipped. He might not like the regenerators, but he could not doubt their effectiveness, he had faced nothing that could have destroyed a regenerator.

He stopped. He sensed something different. "Hmm, you're not very interesting opponents" he said to the apparently empty street, "I'm still bored."

A shadow formed and stepped into his path.

`Ohh, trying to scare me with half-formed shadows now? I have better things to do with my time" Jerikor said, throwing a knife at the shadow. The shadow blurred, and the knife clanged off the cobblestones.

"Hmm? Maybe someone interesting at last!" Jerikor said, laughing, he hurled another few knives at the shadow that dodged them all.

"Ahh, excellent, most entertaining, you're very fast." He said. The shadow blurred again, and moved so fast that even Jerikor couldn't follow it, and a huge two-handed sword descended out of the darkness, trying to decapitate him, he ducked it and kicked out at the shadow's legs. The shadow somersaulted over his kick, and using the momentum of the kick, Jerikor spun and struck the shadow in the back as it landed, blasting it off it's feet, and into the wall of a nearby building.

"You're fast, but so am I. You can't defeat me with moves like that!" Jerikor said as the shadow regained its feet, "But you will suffice as entertainment for tonight. Come on," he continued moving towards the shadow. The shadow did not speak, and tried to impale the advancing Jerikor on the tip of his sword. Jerikor sidestepped, throwing a spinning back-fist, the shadow back peddled and sliced diagonally, Jerikor dropped and rolled to his left, the sword whistled over his head. Still crouching, Jerikor unleashed a low spinning kick, but the shadow jumped over it, and as he fell, slashed downwards, Jerikor rolled again, the sword embedded itself in the ground next to him. He kicked out, and heard a grunt as he connected with the shadow's torso. He quickly followed through, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks at the retreating shadow. He finally got a telling blow through, his hand puncturing the shadow's torso, where it's heart should be. The shadow stiffened and turned to ash.

"Ohh? That's it, I was hoping for some entertainment." Jerikor laughed. Suddenly, he felt red-hot pain, as the shadow's blade scored a deep wound across his back. The shadow continued his attacks, slashing several deep cuts across his back, which left Jerikor dripping blood from many wounds.

"This is great!" Jerikor exulted. "Thanks to you, my boredom is gone, I classify you as a class 7 threat. Releasing restraints on functions C through E, continue until target is silenced," Jerikor intoned.

The shadow took a step back, the foe should have been dead, but here he was, muttering about restraints. The shadow advanced, and it's sword descended in a brutal arc, whistling towards Jerikor's head…then it impacted with a nimbus of light that had surrounded Jerikor. The sword struggled to penetrate the light and then snapped in two, the shadow fell back, stunned by the turn of events. Its foe should be dead, but what was this power?

Jerikor bent over, clutching his sides, the wounds in his back closed themselves. Brilliant white wings sprouted from his back, sweeping up, they lifted Jerikor off the ground. The nimbus of light that surrounded Jerikor grew even brighter, becoming painful to look at. The shadow felt its form being swept away by the brilliant white light, but maintained its hold on a corporeal body.

"Know Heaven's wrath, Creature of darkness!" Laughed Jerikor, as the light brightened around his hand. Then with a slashing gesture, a beam of light shot from Jerikor's hand and cut the shadow in half. Several lampposts and a building were caught in the light, and they disintegrated at contact from the beam. The light faded from around Jerikor, and his wings folded, draping his body like a cloak before disappearing.

"Ne perdas cum impiis, Dues animam neam, et cum viris sanguinum vitam meam (5). In Nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti, (1)" Prayed Jerikor. The restraints quickly re-established themselves, and Jerikor faded into nothing…

Only to reappear in Enrico's office. "Get back to your quarters," snapped Enrico. Jerikor smiled grimly, and left. No one liked him; they thought him lower than the monsters they hunted. Normally they would of hunted him down and tried to destroy him centuries ago, but he had made a deal with the then-present head of the Iscariot organisation, to save himself, he had bound himself to their will, their eternal, unwilling servant. A Fallen Angel of Heaven.

Latin Translations

(1): In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit

(2): God Bless

(3): Praising will I call upon the Lord, and I shall be saved from my enemies

(4): Go to the devil

(5): Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked, nor my life with men of blood