Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Victorious ❯ Victorious ( Chapter 1 )

"Alucard…"

The vampire looked down, following the direction of the voice and seeing with just a hint of sadness his young comrade, fallen, leaning weakly against the tower wall. He was clutching at a wound in his stomach and a thin trickle of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, providing a harsh contrast against his pale lips. His eyes, though clouded with pain, were still as proud and unflinching as they had been while they were fighting together.

"There's a bullet in your stomach," the vampire said, his voice a little softer than usual. The human's eyelids flickered in assent.

"Please…" Alucard felt a strange shiver at that word, uttered from quivering, bloodstained lips. He could sense the life draining from the man; such a waste, he thought. There was something in the fierce pride of his eyes that reminded Alucard somehow of his master, though mixed with something that was almost animal. "I want to…be human. For Hellsing…" the mortal - Pickman; that was his name - managed to stammer, his teeth clenched with the pain

Ah, so one of the filthy false vampires had already tasted this human's blood. He wanted to die human rather than become a ghoul…a true soldier of Hellsing, right unto the very end.

He raised his Jackal, aiming for the man's head; one shot - quick and painless. This was one death the vampire would not revel in. It seemed such a terrible waste; this mortal - this man - had something in his spirit that truly intrigued him.

The soldier's eyes were pleading, dull as they were, veiled by the darkness of death, and a thought struck the vampire. He lowered his gun. He also became aware that his glasses seemed to have dematerialised again, as they happened to do whenever he found himself in a situation that was particularly interesting.

"To die human is a better fate than becoming a mindless ghoul," he said, stepping closer to the fallen man. "But consider: do you really want to die, or are you just afraid of becoming a ghoul?" The mortal's brow furrowed, and he leaned his head back on the wall behind him. Alucard knelt down at the man's side, laying his Jackal carefully on the ground. Very gently he reached one gloved hand to the shivering man's cheek, tilting his head very slightly; Pickman's eyes were strangely blank.

Giving in to that which had been tempting him for some time now, Alucard slowly leaned in and licked at the small trail of blood that flowed from between the mortal's warm lips. He thought he heard the man gasp very quietly at the contact, and something inside him that he had not felt for some while began to stir. Unconsciously he began to smile, and as he drew back to check the soldier's expression he was aware that his fangs had instinctively elongated, the points of which pressed pleasantly against his lower lip.

"What are you doing…?" the man began, and Alucard merely continued to look up at him from beneath dark lashes.

"There is another choice," Alucard said, his voice deep and thick with sudden bloodlust and desire. Pickman swallowed, a look of uncertainty flooding his suddenly very alert eyes. His lips were parted and wet with the vampire's own saliva, a look which Alucard found impossible to resist. Leaning in once again he gently claimed the man's mouth, relishing the mortal heat, the softness of the lips, the intoxicating taste of his blood. The man, to his surprise, willingly allowed the vampire access, a weak groan issuing from his throat as Alucard's tongue slid against his, the lips strangely cold against his own.

Eventually the vampire pulled back, staring intently into the mortal's clouded blue-grey eyes. He said nothing, but his beseeching expression spoke volumes.

Leaning over the warm, motionless body of the man beneath him, Alucard whispered in the soldier's ear: "I know you don't want to die tonight."