Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing. I am making £0.00
from this fiction. I just write to sooth my tortured mind.
Warning: This may conflict with the manga if so I am
sorry my knowledge of the manga is extremely limited.
~ * ~
Sometimes something becomes too much to bear. The
weight of the world is a metaphorical weight but it has visible physical signs
that are more than apparent in those it affects most, their shoulder slump,
their spine seems to wilt, they tremble with a constant weariness that no amount
of physical sleep will aid to remove.
When this occurs one must decide what action to take,
to continue to bear the weight of this problem until they disintegrate or to
take decisive action against it. Such occurred to myself.
I personally did not carry the weight of the world, such things that weigh
humans down I can easily shrug off. However one near me did.
Hellsing had been quiet, not silent but quiet. Humans
found themselves capable to destroy what we hunted and so I found myself being
deployed less and less, spending much time board and becoming quiet restless.
My new agitated state brought worry to my current
master; I spent much time pointlessly using power that normally I would have
kept under control. The few people who witnessed my mental and physical
fidgeting became quiet unsettled. I was warned that if I could not keep myself
under a more tighter control action would be taken.
While my past experience of Hellsing’s ‘action’ was
unpleasant, the torture of my corpse the rape and dismemberment of my immortal
soul. I could not stop as my power grew
inside of me causing me to feel like a rubber band pulled taut, twanging. This
development frightened even my current master and action was taken.
I admit I was . . . less than pleased. Although being
bound gave me little choice in the matter, I could go kicking and screaming
which would have been undignified and extremely humiliating or I could obey
orders and go quietly, either way I would go.
To dangerous to be let lose on the world, to powerful
to be killed, to much a necessity to be killed, I was stored away. The Hellsing
organizations trump card.
~ * ~
So now I sit in this dank cell in Hellsing’s Basement.
I look around my cell without much interest knowing I could easily break the door
holding me here but also knowing that I wont. My master had bid me stay and so
stay I shall, it will not be forever.
The room I was in was bare enough nothing important
enough to note, but it was a room, big enough for me to move, not the
claustrophobic velvet prison I had been entombed in before. That thought was
cold comfort indeed. From the way Hellsing treated their prisoners it was my
personal opinion that they had no right to have any.
As I stared around my cell noting the crocked stone
work I wondered if all the rooms in the basement were crooked, I wondered if
any one else had noticed this, if it had been done on purpose, this
imperfection here to highlight perfection elsewhere. I stared at the walls a
long time – the only way I could stare at them – the imperfections tormented
me, until eventually I lost interest or became accustomed to them. I disliked
becoming accustomed to things, makes me feel old.
It was after the first few weeks that I was as close
to true sorrow as I believed I could ever come to. It was almost as if I had
been dreaming my time at Hellsing and had just now awoken back in my old life,
I found myself confused, had I ever lived a rich life? Had I ever lifted a sword and used it to beat
back invaders? I suddenly discovered a wanting to return home.
I recognized my thoughts as crazy, delirious and tried
to drag myself back to my reality with words, I spent days muttering to myself,
retelling what had occurred, how I had come to be here, how I had survived
horrific things to now find myself curled up in the corner of a dank room with
crooked stones.
My emotions became somewhat erratic, I would find
myself sniggering quietly at how far I had fallen only seconds later wanting to
weep. The only constant emotion I found myself possessing now was loneliness,
strange it should come now, a pervasive loneliness with no precise beginning
and no end in sight.
I eventually came to the conclusion that the only way
to preserve what little of my sanity Hellsing had not already demolished was to
sleep, sleep until my master came to get me.
~ * ~
It seems my eternity sleeping or staring at these
moldering stone walls is at an end, I knew it would not be forever.
I feel the warmth of some creatures vitae seep into
me, almost instantly recognizing the vitae as that of a Hellsing, my new master
had arrived. I silently opened my eyes they felt dry and fractured and my
vision shattered but repairing within seconds. Men armed with guns aiming at a
bleeding child . . . my master?
Could this child be my master?
I watched silently for seconds feeling the fear
emanate from the child but also a strength of will that was stopping her from
outwardly showing her fear, she was Hellsing. The blood on the floor caught my
attention and almost non-consensually my body moved to it, my movements dry and
stiff, I could almost hear my skin cracking.
However fiery Vitae spread through me, I heard sharp
intakes of human breath and glanced upwards to find all eyes on me.
By the fear in their eyes you would have thought I was
the Anti Christ.
I am not the anti Christ nor am I Christ I am
something totally different I am Alucard.
~ * ~
Authoress note
Light: a little weird I know but still. Please Review.
Alucard: you’ve done it again
Light: What
Alucard: Found a point where I’m tortured and
exploited it!!
Light: you’re a pretty tortured guy it’s hard not to
Alucard: I demand you write something where I do not
get hurt, imprisoned, shouted at or shot!
Light:
Alucard: NO! Or I’ll quit as a muse.
Light: . . . I’ll try