Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Amoare ab Hostis ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

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Eventually Walter's ragged panting dwindled down into slow, even breaths as he fell into an exhausted sleep. Alucard listened to his heartbeat as it settled from erratic to steady, and ran a long-fingered hand up and down the warm, smooth expanse of backside beside him. He traced the pink, raised flesh were he'd left claw-marks just minutes before when he'd gripped Walter's hips in an effort to steady the both of them, as he'd thrust into the boy's body.

Leaning down he kissed a trail down the curve of Walter's shoulder, licking the salty flesh eagerly, and the teenager moaned softly in his sleep. The vampire envied him his ability to rest. He himself was incapable of sleep at the moment. His blood was still itching for more, calling plaintively for him to take the human in front of him for all he's worth; blood, sex and everything in between. He didn't know what had brought on this sudden spell of restlessness, but he was willing to bet it on his recent course of scientifically sound torture.

Numerous needles, loads of chemical injections, ray upon ray of radiation passed through him that burned like acid...all of it combined to make him feel like a stranger in his own skin. He was though, after all a vampire who appreciated power, and the newly afforded abilities he'd been endowed as a benefit to the ongoing testing made him very happy indeed.

He found that he could manipulate his form on the astral plane so that his physical form could break into pieces without each individual piece becoming dead and stagnant. This provided him with the ability to split himself into many different forms, a few of which he'd experimented with lately. The doctors assured him that soon even so much as a drop of his blood would retain his lifeforce and he would be able to recall it back to his physical form by rejoining with it spiritually. This meant wonderful things for Alucard, as even with his former powers as an original vampire, things like dismemberment or decapitation could kill him. However, given a few short months, his head becoming separated from his neck would be nothing more than an inconvenience.

Alucard ran a hand through Walter's damp hair, the scent of sweat and shampoo wafting up to him. It had been six months since the incident in the deserted building. He'd never explained why he'd acted the way he had done, as much as he understood the reason himself. Perhaps he'd acted out of frustration at having been forced to stay away from Walter for three years. Sir Rupert had been away that week, visiting Arthur in Ireland. It had been an opportunity Alucard couldn't pass up, and one he'd known he wouldn't be able to coerce willingly out of Walter after three years of silence.

Afterwards he hadn't stopped seeing Walter, old Rupert be damned. And eventually Walter had stopped asking questions, had stopped fighting, and allowed himself to enjoy whatever it was Alucard was offering. He was grateful for Walter's understanding of his need for silence. Getting into a messy conversation about their relationship now wasn't convenient for either of them.

Three and a half years had passed since his promise to Rupert to kill the young blonde alter boy in Rome named Alexander. He'd dallied in carrying out his mission. He'd like to say it was because he didn't want to kill such a young child. That he wanted to give him time to grow, to age, to enjoy life before he took it away, but it wasn't so.

The reason for his hesitation was simple: power. He wanted more of it, and the longer the experimentation on him went on, the more power he stood to gain. He knew that the second he killed Iscariot's lapdog the experiment would end. Rupert would have him locked away. The head of Hellsing did not take kindly to manipulation by subordinates, and most likely did not intend to honor he and Alucard's transaction.

The four year allotted time period was drawing swiftly to a close, and Alucard supposed that it was time for action. He could simply fail to kill the boy, but he knew what would happen if he did. Rupert would have Alucard killed for his refusal to carry out a direct order, finally having a valid reason to do so under the Hellsing family code. He would break his promise, forcing Walter to undergo the experimentation in the vampire's place. And if Alucard had been reluctant for Walter to suffer through the mutation of his body before, having endured it, his reluctance was now triplefolded.

However, if he killed the boy, Rupert would still lock him away, yes, but Walter would most likely not be harmed. Alucard would be allowed temporary leaves from his imprisonment to fufill his use as this new weapon, and then be incarcerated once more. It was resigning himself to a future he did not like, which went directly against his selfish nature. Part of his decision to surrender himself to this fate was his affection for Walter, but more of it was his desire for power if he took Walter's place. He could withstand beind held behind bars in exchange for power beyond that of any other creature, living or undead. After all, what was his debt to the Hellsing family but a way to hold him captive? The walls of his cage were wider at the moment, but they existed nonetheless. He was already a prisoner. Soon, he would be one with abilities beyond imagination.

Deciding that he was beyond due for a visit with the pretty blonde in the Vatican, Alucard placed one last nipping kiss on Walter's jugular, relishing the sight of his mark already there, and lay down to sleep.

He had a date in Rome tomorrow evening.

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Alexander flopped bonelessly onto his small bed, one arm flung over his eyes as he squeezed them tightly shut against the blackness creeping into the sides of his vision. He waited for the dizzy spell to pass, swallowing thickly against the sour taste in the back of his throat. Tonight's side effects were more pronounced than usual and seemed determined to find Alex retching and sobbing in sweaty misery on the cool, welcome tiles of his bathroom floor again.

It had seemed so wonderful at first, he reflected. The meeting with the Pope...being given a private room, with his own bathroom no less...having a special part to play in the war against demons and the humans who coddle them.

That was six months ago.

Now after seemingly endless nights of sharp needles, burning chemicals that seared through is blood and scorched his skin from the inside, and pumping, beeping, whistling machines all designed to cause more pain than the last...Alex no longer thought of his situation as wonderful. It was still a great honor, and one he would endure with pride. Nonetheless, God had never intended for his body to undergo this metamorphasis, despite Father David and Father Nathan's reassurances. Alex resented the lies that came from people he used to admire and trust. He wished that they would simply tell him the truth, no matter how painful it was, instead of attempting to soothe him with tender deceptions.

He knew the truth, of course. He knew what was happening to him, and what his indended purpose was. He also knew that Father David and Father Nathan, who looked at him with such kindness and sympathy now, would recoil in horror when his transformation was complete.

He was to become a demon, in design and purpose, if not in actuality.

Alex wondered some nights if, when it was all over, he'd remember who he was before. His life, his past, the deaths of parents...would it all be lost to the beast? He hoped not. However painful those memories were, they were his. They motivated him and fueled him in his quest for understanding of God's plan, for enlightenment and purpose. And revenge.

Choking as bile stung the back of his throat, Alex swallowed several times, taking deep breaths until the worst of it passed. A cool breeze washed over him from the open window and Alex moaned in indecent relief as it soothed his flushed face and neck. It felt delightful, and he thanked God that he'd had the foresight to leave the window open before he'd left tonight...

Only, he hadn't opened the window.

Sitting abruptly upright, Alex scanned the room, sparks of color floating before his vision.

"Who's there?" He asked, his voice thick and rusty with illness.

Dizziness flooded him but his heart was pounding too fiercely for him to pay any attention to it. Getting to his feet he swayed perilously, black fog clouding his mind as he began to faint from the sudden movement.

'Not now!' He told his traitorous body.

A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, crossing their wrists around his thin chest and supporting his slight weight.

"Let go!" Alex shrieked

Curling his fingers around the gloved hands locked at his sternum he tugged frantically, digging his fingernails into cloth, trying to pry them loose. He twisted nimbly, squirming in a way that he knew would make him difficult to hold on to, but his attacker was either accustomed to such thrashing or very strong, as his grip did not falter.

The room swayed sickeningly and Alex gagged as another wave of nausea came over him. He fought against the attacker and his own swiftly depleting strength, knowing it was a losing battle against both. He raised one of his legs to kick backwards at the person holding him from behind, only to find that he wasn't standing any longer but rather sitting curled into a ball...in his attacker's lap.

He continued to struggle weakly against the arms walling him in against his opponent's solid form, but eventually gave up in light of the overwhelming swimming sensation in his head. He held himself completely still, tensed and ready for any move his foe made, though truthfully he could do nothing at the moment to stop him from doing whatever he pleased. After an indeterminable amount of time had passed, Alexander's head began to clear and with it brought back his vision and his awareness. He took a steadying breath, readying himself to look up into the face of whoever it was that had snuck into his room, when they began to speak.

"So," a deep, melodic voice spoke into the crown of his head. "This is the weapon Iscariot is crafting? I'm deeply shamed, as I'm sure my master will be, that they have so greatly underestimated us."

"I know nothing of you, or your master," said Alex in a low, controlled tone. "But if you are against Iscariot then you will be destroyed, make no mistake."

That intoxicating voice chuckled deeply, the sound resonating in the chest pressed against Alex's ear. He jerked away slightly, uncomfortable with how intimate their position was.

"But you do know me," Alucard countered. "Moon Child."

Alex gasped, whipping his head back abruptly to stare up into the face above him. The same burning red eyes stared down at him, but the face and hair were different from that of the thing that had killed his parents. Yet, he was familiar to him.

"I pulled the memory from your mind," the vampire murmured. "He was a filthy disgrace to my kind, as most all vampires are in my estimation, but he was onto something with that nickname."

"You!" Alex hissed, jerking away from the demon.

Alucard caught his forearms in his gloved hands before they could be raised in defense, grinning maniacally at the anger and disgust in those pale green eyes. Still no fear shone in them, just as in their previous meeting. He acknowledged the accusation with an incline of his dark head, and held fast when the boy tugged and struggled to free himself.

"Let go!" He shrieked. "Let go of me, you foul-"

"In a moment," said Alucard smoothly. "But first, I am here to deliver a message."

"I'll not tell them anything for you!"

"But the message is for you, Moon Child."

"Don't call me that!" Alex shouted fiercely. "And I don't want to hear it. Let go! I'll scream!"

"I'd be gone before anyone came to rescue you." Alucard assured him. "And besides, aren't you supposed to be the brave man-child they're making into a monster?"

Alex's face fell at this mention of his fate, and he hung limply, half off of Alucard's lap, supported by the vampire's grip on his wrists. Struggling to regain his composure, the blonde, who had grown considerably taller since Alucard had last seen him, straightened his shoulders and scowled furiously at the darker man.

"What's your message?" He asked with more strength than he felt.

"I'm going to kill you," said Alucard calmly, drawing the boy closer through his hold on his wrists. "In six months."

The youth's mouth fell open and he stared up at the demonic look of pure satisfaction on the vampire's face mere inches from his own. After a few moments he swallowed and took a deep breath, staring at the dark devil in confusion.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, genuinedly puzzled. "Why not just kill me now?"

"I honestly don't know," said Alucard, his gaze roaming over the pretty, scarred face so near his own. "Partly for selfish reasons that I don't have time to discuss. Partly for the benefit of someone other than myself. And also because I wanted to give you time to prepare. You're obviously not ready, as I've proved tonight. But you deserve a chance to defend yourself, at least. No matter how slim the chances are of you living past fourteen."

"How did you-"

Alucard tapped the side of the blonde's temple in answer to the half-spoken question. Of course, he'd retrieved the information from his mind.

"The rest of the reason why, even I do not know. Nor do I care to examine it too closely." He concluded.

Alex searched the pale, angular face for answers, surpremely aware of the fact of how strange this situation was, and how oddly he was reacting to it. There was no anger, no denial, no fear. Just acceptance, and curiosity.

"Six months?"

"Yes."

Chewing on his lower lip, Alex chanced a glance up at the red eyes glowing at him through his lashes. "Will you regret it?"

Alucard took a moment in answering, and then answered simply, "Yes."

Alex nodded and slid out of the vampire's lap, standing in front of him and looking down at the figure in red perched on his bed. He held out a hand that shook only slightly, and straightened his spine with all the pride he could muster.

"I will see you in six months, then," he told Alucard. "And may the best monster win."

Alucard grinned ferally, grasping the boy's hand with his own and rising to his feet to tower over the smaller human, though not nearly so much as he had three and a half years ago. Giving the boy a solemn nod, he crossed over to the window and slid silently out into the night with plans to go underground until sunset the next day, when a helicopter was scheduled to collect him and return him to Hellsing, Walter, and a six month long wait.

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