Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Fare ❯ A Careless Cheshire Cat's Lost Toy ( Chapter 19 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Artemis_Vampiress 
An awakening, a confrontation, a revelation
Anime/Manga: Hellsing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Horror / Action | Type: Fanfiction Sequel | Uploaded On: 06.14.2009 | Pages: 5 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 357 | Status: Work In Progress
An awakening, a confrontation, a revelation
Anime/Manga: Hellsing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Horror / Action | Type: Fanfiction Sequel | Uploaded On: 06.14.2009 | Pages: 5 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 357 | Status: Work In Progress
Author's Note: Yes, there are some confusing things in the last chapter that don't make sense with the information given in the previous chapters. All will be made clear. So don't hate me! This chapter could be read with Chevelle's song “The Clincher” playing in the background, to set the mood. I know because that's what I was listening to when I wrote it XD
Malakai felt triumph course through his body and something in the back of his mind told him that it was wrong. It was all wrong. What had Lansing said? It seemed so far away now, in this cold place where only blood and madness existed with him.
Deyavi's soothing presence touched his mind and clarity wiped away the fog of bloodlust.
The walking dead.
They are already dead.
They can only fall if the blood is destroyed.
“Fuck.”
* * * * * *
Victoria felt the chill of panic radiating from the minds of the humans following her and knew they had to move quickly. She would not be able to control them if that panic broke free. So she hurried them along, keeping them quiet, holding them together. And it was certainly a task, they were so ready to fall apart.
Soldiers, my ass, she snorted incredulously.
One of them broke down quite suddenly, wailing loudly, a pathetic cry that made Victoria cringe.
She gritted her teeth and whipped around, ready to give the bawl-baby a tongue-lashing he would never forget, when she saw the monster approaching, too fast for the humans to see.
“Damn it!”
* * * * * *
Integra's blood slid down Alucard's face, mingling with the tainted blood of monsters.
Again he detected movement, to the left of him, but this time he did not close his eyes. So when the body began to materialize from smoke, he saw it. When the lithe form became completely visible, crouched next to his master, tongue stroking Integral's cheek, tasting her blood, he saw it. And when the eyes opened, he saw it, the bulls-eye black and red irises glinting madly.
And the first thought that came to mind was, fucking psychopath Cheshire Cat.
Malakai's foul mouth was contagious.
The hand holding the Jackal whipped up lightning fast and struck the side of the female's face. She staggered back, darting away from him.
But that Cheshire Cat insanity didn't leave her face, and she giggled.
“You're perfect,” she purred.
He grinned, exposing fang. This facial expression not expressing gratitude for the compliment in any way. It wasn't a particularly nice grin.
Especially in light of the fact that this Cheshire Cat had just pierced Integral's stomach with her slender fingers, brutally tearing her internal organs, splattering Alucard with her blood.
No, he wasn't particularly pleased.
Integra was dying. He knelt and lowered her body to the ground, gently. He looked up from examining the wound to find the Cheshire Cat was gone.
Good riddance.
Now it was a matter of saving Integral's life. Without tasting her blood, which ruled out licking the wound closed.
Well, damn.
Alucard's grin grew, now a smile of pleasure.
Looked like he'd be getting his way after all.
“My master,” he murmured.
Her expression was peaceful. Comforted by his presence. It was ironic.
* * * * * * *
Deyavi hissed in anger. Had she not told them that these monsters could not be killed? Even Lansing had told them so!
The monsters lay quiet on the floor, appearing for all the world to be dead. But appearances were deceiving, and Deyavi felt the cold sting of their magic leaving their bodies. The bodies were destroyed, but the monsters themselves . . .
It was the magic. It was the magic that made them, and it was the magic that would destroy everything in their path. That the bodies had been temporarily incapacitated by the blood seal being broken meant nothing. When she called them, they would rise to do her bidding. And in the meanwhile the magic that animated them would rise to wreak havoc on everything around them.
She moved as swiftly as she could, searching for Alucard, her senses numbed by the cold magic that permeated the air. Gavril followed close behind.
They had to be quick. Soon all of their senses would be taken from them, and they would be helpless.
First, their vampire powers. Then, the essential five senses.
She could already feel it.
The very thing that made a human's blood so desirable was the endless well of untapped magic in their blood. It was why vampires had to feed from humans. Vampires also possessed this magic. But it existed in every inch of their bodies, keeping them alive, fueling their incredible healing processes, and their powers, making them a thousand times stronger than any human both in body and mind. It was what made it so outstandingly difficult to drink another vampire's blood; you could never get close enough to try. In order for a vampire to continue to exist, they had to replenish the supply of magic by feeding from a human. Otherwise, the vampire's body would begin to shut down, and they would begin to decay into the state known as The Sleep. Such was the importance of this magic, that if a human lost too much blood, the carrier of the magic itself, they would die.
These monsters were designed to take that power straight from every living source around them. When it was contained within the bodies, their foul magic could only be utilized by the taking of a soul. A process fueled by the dark,hateful nature of the beasts themselves. But once released from the bodies by the breaking of the seal . . . granted, they had removed the physical threat of the monsters. They wouldn't be tearing anyone limb from limb or sucking any souls . . . but once the magic was released from the bodies, it could leech the power from any living being that came in contact with it.
And in their infinite wisdom, Alucard and Malakai had released the magic, from not one, not two, but several dozen of these foul creations.
Deyavi truly felt that she could scream.
But now all she could do was keep running.
Run and pray she got to him before it was too late.
* * * * * * * *
“My master,” he murmured.
“Alucard,” she replied.
The pain was outrageous. If having a rib broken was painful, if stabbing oneself through the neck was painful, then this was . . . . . this was hell.
And she knew it would kill her.
“My master,” he repeated gently, “Let me save you.”
She sighed. Of course, she would have to spend the last moments of her life arguing with him. It was her punishment for . . . well, she wasn't sure what.
“No.”
Her vision began to blur a little. And it was growing rather cold . . .
“Master, you don't have much blood left in you. You are going to die,” he said frankly, “Let me save you.”
“Alucard, you know that I-”
“That you're stubborn?”
Well, that.
“That you're a control freak?”
Yes, that too.
“That you're one of the most strong-willed, courageous humans ever to have walked the earth, and you do not deserve to die like this?” his voice was gentle.
She gritted her teeth against the pain, feeling panic bubbling up in her chest at the singular knowledge that she was not just going to die. That she was dying. In that very moment. She would not give in to this, she told herself.
Give in to what? Your mortality? her own voice mocked her from within her mind.
“Waste not, my master.”
Integral wasn't sure when she tilted her head back or when he lowered his mouth to her neck.
* * * * * * *
“Vampires are the perfect weapon,” she purred.
So much potential. Of course, her beasts had their uses, and they were such fun to create . . .
But they had no soul. They had no power in the face of death. They had already lost the game. They were the walking dead. They stole the life force from the creatures around them and fed her powers with the stolen magic. But they were siphons. Sponges. In the end, that was all.
Only a vampire could snatch a victim back from the hands of death. Bring a dead body to life as a ghoul, or save a human from their mortality. They played the game and walked the line of death. And they always won. Death could not defeat a vampire, not really . . .
And oh, but a vampire with no mind.
Incapable of hesitation. So easy to manipulate. And their powers.
A sane vampire was so carefully in control of their power, limiting its use. An insane vampire's powers could be twisted in ways not possible when restricted by a rational mind.
Jonathan had given her the key when he had agreed to be turned. He had given away his pure Hellsing blood so freely, never thinking of what it would cost him in the end. And she had made him pay for it. He was a traitor and he was made to pay for his betrayal. She had tortured him into madness.
His madness, however, a mere shadow of the insanity that grew in the minds of the old and powerful undead. The psychopathy of an isolated vampire.
Jonathan had died in the end because he was young, and foolish, and driven to pointless, impossible vengeance. He had died because he had dared to challenge Him. Alucard.
The Prince of Vampires who would serve her in the end.
* * * * * * * *
His blood washed the inside of her mouth. She swallowed it, and registered the fact that it didn't taste much like a human's blood at all. It was sweet and rich and she thought that if moonlight had a taste, this would be it.
Integral drank greedily of his blood as he commanded.
She wasn't sure when she felt the warmth return to her body or when her vision cleared.
He had taken her blood so that she could be come one of them. He had given his own so that she would be free.
And in turning her he had become free.
He felt it. Her pure Hellsing blood inside his body. He felt the bonds dissolving.
It was ecstasy.
Alucard pulled his wrist away from her mouth. If he gave her too much, he would begin to drain his own powers.
“Integra.”
She sat up and was not surprised to find that it was painless. She already knew the wonders of a vampire's blood.
Some of them, at any rate.
But now wasn't the time for reflecting on such things. The tension in Alucard's body told her that there was danger close by.
Alucard stood in a fluid, graceful movement, and brought Integra to her feet with his hand beneath her elbow. It was so strange . . . he felt something in the air. Something terribly cold.
“We must be going. Immediately.”
He phased with her in tow. It would be awhile before she mastered her own power, and he didn't have time to teach her.
They were in the middle of a battlefield.
There was a blur of movement just in front of them, and Alucard closed his eyes. Integra closed hers also, unsure of what to think, slightly disoriented from the unnaturally quick transformation.
“Keep your eyes closed, Integra. If you feel vulnerable, reach out with your mind. It should not be difficult. Every time you summoned me as a human, you had to cast your senses outward. Do the same now,” Alucard told her.
She struggled with the concept. But she recalled those days when, in fury, she had called him with her mind. She recalled the times when, in desperation, her mind had screamed for his, called for his aid.
Integral felt her mind open up. She could see the world, not as she saw it with her eyes, but as it was. She saw the life force of everything around her, and felt the chill of the magic creeping into the air, something alien and unnatural and evil . . .
“Do not open your eyes,” Alucard reminded her sharply, and they began walking again.
His finger rested lightly on the trigger of the Jackal. They walked through the remains of the manor and when they passed by a warped and slightly blackened mirror, Integra was stopped dead by what she saw in her mind.
Herself. Herself, in her mid-twenties, eyes closed, clothing torn and bloodied, reflected back at her from the twisted remains of glass.
“I told you, Integra. Time turned backward for you when you became one of us,” Alucard said, almost smugly.
She wanted to slap him.
But it really didn't seem like a good idea at that moment, considering that if she raised her arm, her whole chest would be exposed through the rip in her shirt.
So Integral restrained herself and they pressed onward in silence, leaving Integral to ponder her newly recovered youth.
Her eternal youth.
* * * * * * * * *
Her love for him was everything that love should not be.
It was not the new, bright love of Malakai and Lansing.
She had loved him before the legendary reign of seven kings over Rome, before the Iron Age, which was, to her recollection, more than two thousand, seven hundred years ago. Her love was a corrupt form of itself.
It was not the deeply protective, possessive love of Alucard and Victoria.
The violence that blossomed between them was a self-sustaining pattern, her stark jealousy the catalyst for the end.
It was not the tender, natural, profound love of Deyavi and Gavril.
They had known from the beginning that they were not meant to be together, and yet she had kept her obsessive stranglehold until it killed him. Because he was beautiful, and she wanted him. Because even though he didn't belong with her, he still belonged to her.
These lives were being sacrificed because she owned him. Death had been his escape from her twisted and unyielding love.
But she wasn't willing to let him go.
She refused to relinquish her possession of him. She would not let Death keep him. She would raise him from the dead somehow.
So man times she had stared intently into his blank, unseeing eyes, looking for some change, some spark of awareness that would tell her she had succeeded this time. That she had snatched him back from the hands of Death.
Nothing.
It didn't matter. She would not give up.
She didn't care how many had to die for her to get what she wanted.
“Only one,” she murmured softly, her pupils dilating.
Only Seras Victoria.
And then He would do her bidding.
* * * * * * * *
Deyavi ran. She ran until she nearly tripped, and used the momentum to launch herself into the air and dissolve into a small swarm of bats.
As she flew, she passed Malakai, bloody and becoming weary, sitting among a horde of the monsters' bodies. He looked up and saw her and Gavril in their mad flight, and stood as if to join them. But then Lansing came from within the smoking ruin of the basement, carrying something, and he turned his attention to her.
She saw Victoria, running alongside the humans to escape a monster that had apparently avoided Alucard and Malakai's mindless slaughter. They were successfully staying a good distance ahead of the thing, and Deyavi knew it chased them only half-heartedly.
Not until their mistress commanded it would they truly pursue Seras Victoria.
Deyavi cursed mentally.
When Fate had ordered her to return to the world of the living, she had been forbidden from speaking directly of anything she knew regarding the events that would unfold.
She had nearly crossed the line in telling them of how she and Gavril had come to be there in the first place.
We have to finish this, my love, she said grimly.
It will be finished. We will not fail, Gavril replied, and once more she was awed by his confidence and faith.
I pray you are right, my heart, she said softly.
* * * * * * *
The Cheshire Cat was back.
She was walking alongside them companionably, with her hands clasped behind her back.
She was dressed like a damned fool, in Alucard's opinion. No self-respecting vampire dressed like a little human lolita fairy thing. Of course, this wasn't her real body, but why on earth would a vampire choose such a childish glamour?
“You're utterly ridiculous,” he said bluntly.
She smiled.
“Oh? Am I? No more ridiculous than the Hellsing walking next to you,” she said.
Her smile was sickly sweet.
“So who are you, then? Another misbegotten vampiress come to take over the human world, destroying anyone who has the power to oppose you?” he sneered.
Her smile broadened.
“No. No such thing.”
“What then? Come to avenge yourself on the Hellsing for some petty slight committed before her birth?”
“Oh no! I have nothing in particular against the Hellsings.”
“Oh? What then? What possessed your foolish self to take on such a disgraceful appearance, and drag your whoring body up from hell to destroy my home and human property?” he said, his voice party a growl, partly a derisive laugh.
“I've lost something.”
“How careless of you,” Alucard said dryly.
He prayed that Integral would keep her mouth shut. In that moment it was as if the Cheshire Cat had completely forgotten her existence, and he preferred to keep it that way.
“Well, it wasn't quite my fault,” the Cheshire Cat pouted, “He ran away.”
“You lost your man? Even worse. You aren't making a very respectable impression,” Alucard taunted her.
The Cheshire Cat vampire's strange eyes crinkled in a smile. She thought he was teasing her.
“Well you see, my Prince, he has gone beyond my reach. Death has taken him, and I'm afraid I just haven't been able to get him back.”
Alucard raised an eyebrow.
“He died,” he said flatly, “And this foolishness was meant to do what? Taking lives will not raise him from the dead. No matter how many souls your little toys steal, no matter how many are killed, you cannot persuade Death to relinquish him. It doesn't work that way.”
“Oh? Have you ever tried?”
No, but it was a matter of common sense! This Cheshire Cat was beginning to annoy and unnerve him.
She had clearly lost her little mind.
“ALUCARD! GET AWAY FROM HER!!!”
Deyavi's voice stormed into his mind and he opened his eyes to see a swarm of bats sweeping down to land several feet ahead of them. Integral was shocked by the force of the mental scream and her eyes opened, and she ducked. The bats formed the bodies of Gavril and Deyavi who ran towards them madly, such a look of panic-fear on their faces that it gave him pause. He turned to see the Cheshire Cat grinning, fangs bared, the glamour gone. She was reaching for him, and his hand shot up and he fired the Jackal. Her hand was blown apart, and she leapt backward, away from him and his gun and his fury.
Her healing powers were incredible, even for a vampire. Comparable to his own, in fact. And he was sure she had not come by this power naturally. The bloody bits of her hand were quickly healed and within seconds she had a new appendage. But rather than come at him again, she giggled and her body dissolved into shadow.
Alucard turned and faced Deyavi.
“Apparently there are certain things you neglected to mention,” he said flatly.
She grimaced.
“If it was possible for me to tell you everything, believe me, I would have done so already,” she replied.
Alucard understood then.
“It was a condition of your return that you could not tell all you know.”
“It was the condition of our return.”
He looked up at the darkened, smoky sky and frowned. Integral, sensing that there was too much here she did not understand, went about straightening her clothes and listening. There was no room for her in this conversation.
“So how was it exactly that you were supposed to help me kill this little abomination?”
He returned his gaze to Deyavi and she smiled at him a little sadly, a little secretively.
“I hold her magic in my body. Even Fate was unable to remove it, but it is locked within my blood. I have tasted her blood, I have fed from her.”
“You intend for me to take your blood.”
“Yes. Gavril's, as well.”
“And what if I decide to take all of it?”
“That's your call, Prince.”
Deyavi shrugged and Gavril seemed equally unconcerned.
“You're awfully trusting.”
“Do we have a choice?”
Not really.
“When?”
Deyavi's jaw clenched and Alucard knew he had asked her a question she was forbidden from answering. Gavril glanced away.
“Well, I suppose we'll have to improvise,” Alucard chuckled.
Malakai felt triumph course through his body and something in the back of his mind told him that it was wrong. It was all wrong. What had Lansing said? It seemed so far away now, in this cold place where only blood and madness existed with him.
Deyavi's soothing presence touched his mind and clarity wiped away the fog of bloodlust.
The walking dead.
They are already dead.
They can only fall if the blood is destroyed.
“Fuck.”
* * * * * *
Victoria felt the chill of panic radiating from the minds of the humans following her and knew they had to move quickly. She would not be able to control them if that panic broke free. So she hurried them along, keeping them quiet, holding them together. And it was certainly a task, they were so ready to fall apart.
Soldiers, my ass, she snorted incredulously.
One of them broke down quite suddenly, wailing loudly, a pathetic cry that made Victoria cringe.
She gritted her teeth and whipped around, ready to give the bawl-baby a tongue-lashing he would never forget, when she saw the monster approaching, too fast for the humans to see.
“Damn it!”
* * * * * *
Integra's blood slid down Alucard's face, mingling with the tainted blood of monsters.
Again he detected movement, to the left of him, but this time he did not close his eyes. So when the body began to materialize from smoke, he saw it. When the lithe form became completely visible, crouched next to his master, tongue stroking Integral's cheek, tasting her blood, he saw it. And when the eyes opened, he saw it, the bulls-eye black and red irises glinting madly.
And the first thought that came to mind was, fucking psychopath Cheshire Cat.
Malakai's foul mouth was contagious.
The hand holding the Jackal whipped up lightning fast and struck the side of the female's face. She staggered back, darting away from him.
But that Cheshire Cat insanity didn't leave her face, and she giggled.
“You're perfect,” she purred.
He grinned, exposing fang. This facial expression not expressing gratitude for the compliment in any way. It wasn't a particularly nice grin.
Especially in light of the fact that this Cheshire Cat had just pierced Integral's stomach with her slender fingers, brutally tearing her internal organs, splattering Alucard with her blood.
No, he wasn't particularly pleased.
Integra was dying. He knelt and lowered her body to the ground, gently. He looked up from examining the wound to find the Cheshire Cat was gone.
Good riddance.
Now it was a matter of saving Integral's life. Without tasting her blood, which ruled out licking the wound closed.
Well, damn.
Alucard's grin grew, now a smile of pleasure.
Looked like he'd be getting his way after all.
“My master,” he murmured.
Her expression was peaceful. Comforted by his presence. It was ironic.
* * * * * * *
Deyavi hissed in anger. Had she not told them that these monsters could not be killed? Even Lansing had told them so!
The monsters lay quiet on the floor, appearing for all the world to be dead. But appearances were deceiving, and Deyavi felt the cold sting of their magic leaving their bodies. The bodies were destroyed, but the monsters themselves . . .
It was the magic. It was the magic that made them, and it was the magic that would destroy everything in their path. That the bodies had been temporarily incapacitated by the blood seal being broken meant nothing. When she called them, they would rise to do her bidding. And in the meanwhile the magic that animated them would rise to wreak havoc on everything around them.
She moved as swiftly as she could, searching for Alucard, her senses numbed by the cold magic that permeated the air. Gavril followed close behind.
They had to be quick. Soon all of their senses would be taken from them, and they would be helpless.
First, their vampire powers. Then, the essential five senses.
She could already feel it.
The very thing that made a human's blood so desirable was the endless well of untapped magic in their blood. It was why vampires had to feed from humans. Vampires also possessed this magic. But it existed in every inch of their bodies, keeping them alive, fueling their incredible healing processes, and their powers, making them a thousand times stronger than any human both in body and mind. It was what made it so outstandingly difficult to drink another vampire's blood; you could never get close enough to try. In order for a vampire to continue to exist, they had to replenish the supply of magic by feeding from a human. Otherwise, the vampire's body would begin to shut down, and they would begin to decay into the state known as The Sleep. Such was the importance of this magic, that if a human lost too much blood, the carrier of the magic itself, they would die.
These monsters were designed to take that power straight from every living source around them. When it was contained within the bodies, their foul magic could only be utilized by the taking of a soul. A process fueled by the dark,hateful nature of the beasts themselves. But once released from the bodies by the breaking of the seal . . . granted, they had removed the physical threat of the monsters. They wouldn't be tearing anyone limb from limb or sucking any souls . . . but once the magic was released from the bodies, it could leech the power from any living being that came in contact with it.
And in their infinite wisdom, Alucard and Malakai had released the magic, from not one, not two, but several dozen of these foul creations.
Deyavi truly felt that she could scream.
But now all she could do was keep running.
Run and pray she got to him before it was too late.
* * * * * * * *
“My master,” he murmured.
“Alucard,” she replied.
The pain was outrageous. If having a rib broken was painful, if stabbing oneself through the neck was painful, then this was . . . . . this was hell.
And she knew it would kill her.
“My master,” he repeated gently, “Let me save you.”
She sighed. Of course, she would have to spend the last moments of her life arguing with him. It was her punishment for . . . well, she wasn't sure what.
“No.”
Her vision began to blur a little. And it was growing rather cold . . .
“Master, you don't have much blood left in you. You are going to die,” he said frankly, “Let me save you.”
“Alucard, you know that I-”
“That you're stubborn?”
Well, that.
“That you're a control freak?”
Yes, that too.
“That you're one of the most strong-willed, courageous humans ever to have walked the earth, and you do not deserve to die like this?” his voice was gentle.
She gritted her teeth against the pain, feeling panic bubbling up in her chest at the singular knowledge that she was not just going to die. That she was dying. In that very moment. She would not give in to this, she told herself.
Give in to what? Your mortality? her own voice mocked her from within her mind.
“Waste not, my master.”
Integral wasn't sure when she tilted her head back or when he lowered his mouth to her neck.
* * * * * * *
“Vampires are the perfect weapon,” she purred.
So much potential. Of course, her beasts had their uses, and they were such fun to create . . .
But they had no soul. They had no power in the face of death. They had already lost the game. They were the walking dead. They stole the life force from the creatures around them and fed her powers with the stolen magic. But they were siphons. Sponges. In the end, that was all.
Only a vampire could snatch a victim back from the hands of death. Bring a dead body to life as a ghoul, or save a human from their mortality. They played the game and walked the line of death. And they always won. Death could not defeat a vampire, not really . . .
And oh, but a vampire with no mind.
Incapable of hesitation. So easy to manipulate. And their powers.
A sane vampire was so carefully in control of their power, limiting its use. An insane vampire's powers could be twisted in ways not possible when restricted by a rational mind.
Jonathan had given her the key when he had agreed to be turned. He had given away his pure Hellsing blood so freely, never thinking of what it would cost him in the end. And she had made him pay for it. He was a traitor and he was made to pay for his betrayal. She had tortured him into madness.
His madness, however, a mere shadow of the insanity that grew in the minds of the old and powerful undead. The psychopathy of an isolated vampire.
Jonathan had died in the end because he was young, and foolish, and driven to pointless, impossible vengeance. He had died because he had dared to challenge Him. Alucard.
The Prince of Vampires who would serve her in the end.
* * * * * * * *
His blood washed the inside of her mouth. She swallowed it, and registered the fact that it didn't taste much like a human's blood at all. It was sweet and rich and she thought that if moonlight had a taste, this would be it.
Integral drank greedily of his blood as he commanded.
She wasn't sure when she felt the warmth return to her body or when her vision cleared.
He had taken her blood so that she could be come one of them. He had given his own so that she would be free.
And in turning her he had become free.
He felt it. Her pure Hellsing blood inside his body. He felt the bonds dissolving.
It was ecstasy.
Alucard pulled his wrist away from her mouth. If he gave her too much, he would begin to drain his own powers.
“Integra.”
She sat up and was not surprised to find that it was painless. She already knew the wonders of a vampire's blood.
Some of them, at any rate.
But now wasn't the time for reflecting on such things. The tension in Alucard's body told her that there was danger close by.
Alucard stood in a fluid, graceful movement, and brought Integra to her feet with his hand beneath her elbow. It was so strange . . . he felt something in the air. Something terribly cold.
“We must be going. Immediately.”
He phased with her in tow. It would be awhile before she mastered her own power, and he didn't have time to teach her.
They were in the middle of a battlefield.
There was a blur of movement just in front of them, and Alucard closed his eyes. Integra closed hers also, unsure of what to think, slightly disoriented from the unnaturally quick transformation.
“Keep your eyes closed, Integra. If you feel vulnerable, reach out with your mind. It should not be difficult. Every time you summoned me as a human, you had to cast your senses outward. Do the same now,” Alucard told her.
She struggled with the concept. But she recalled those days when, in fury, she had called him with her mind. She recalled the times when, in desperation, her mind had screamed for his, called for his aid.
Integral felt her mind open up. She could see the world, not as she saw it with her eyes, but as it was. She saw the life force of everything around her, and felt the chill of the magic creeping into the air, something alien and unnatural and evil . . .
“Do not open your eyes,” Alucard reminded her sharply, and they began walking again.
His finger rested lightly on the trigger of the Jackal. They walked through the remains of the manor and when they passed by a warped and slightly blackened mirror, Integra was stopped dead by what she saw in her mind.
Herself. Herself, in her mid-twenties, eyes closed, clothing torn and bloodied, reflected back at her from the twisted remains of glass.
“I told you, Integra. Time turned backward for you when you became one of us,” Alucard said, almost smugly.
She wanted to slap him.
But it really didn't seem like a good idea at that moment, considering that if she raised her arm, her whole chest would be exposed through the rip in her shirt.
So Integral restrained herself and they pressed onward in silence, leaving Integral to ponder her newly recovered youth.
Her eternal youth.
* * * * * * * * *
Her love for him was everything that love should not be.
It was not the new, bright love of Malakai and Lansing.
She had loved him before the legendary reign of seven kings over Rome, before the Iron Age, which was, to her recollection, more than two thousand, seven hundred years ago. Her love was a corrupt form of itself.
It was not the deeply protective, possessive love of Alucard and Victoria.
The violence that blossomed between them was a self-sustaining pattern, her stark jealousy the catalyst for the end.
It was not the tender, natural, profound love of Deyavi and Gavril.
They had known from the beginning that they were not meant to be together, and yet she had kept her obsessive stranglehold until it killed him. Because he was beautiful, and she wanted him. Because even though he didn't belong with her, he still belonged to her.
These lives were being sacrificed because she owned him. Death had been his escape from her twisted and unyielding love.
But she wasn't willing to let him go.
She refused to relinquish her possession of him. She would not let Death keep him. She would raise him from the dead somehow.
So man times she had stared intently into his blank, unseeing eyes, looking for some change, some spark of awareness that would tell her she had succeeded this time. That she had snatched him back from the hands of Death.
Nothing.
It didn't matter. She would not give up.
She didn't care how many had to die for her to get what she wanted.
“Only one,” she murmured softly, her pupils dilating.
Only Seras Victoria.
And then He would do her bidding.
* * * * * * * *
Deyavi ran. She ran until she nearly tripped, and used the momentum to launch herself into the air and dissolve into a small swarm of bats.
As she flew, she passed Malakai, bloody and becoming weary, sitting among a horde of the monsters' bodies. He looked up and saw her and Gavril in their mad flight, and stood as if to join them. But then Lansing came from within the smoking ruin of the basement, carrying something, and he turned his attention to her.
She saw Victoria, running alongside the humans to escape a monster that had apparently avoided Alucard and Malakai's mindless slaughter. They were successfully staying a good distance ahead of the thing, and Deyavi knew it chased them only half-heartedly.
Not until their mistress commanded it would they truly pursue Seras Victoria.
Deyavi cursed mentally.
When Fate had ordered her to return to the world of the living, she had been forbidden from speaking directly of anything she knew regarding the events that would unfold.
She had nearly crossed the line in telling them of how she and Gavril had come to be there in the first place.
We have to finish this, my love, she said grimly.
It will be finished. We will not fail, Gavril replied, and once more she was awed by his confidence and faith.
I pray you are right, my heart, she said softly.
* * * * * * *
The Cheshire Cat was back.
She was walking alongside them companionably, with her hands clasped behind her back.
She was dressed like a damned fool, in Alucard's opinion. No self-respecting vampire dressed like a little human lolita fairy thing. Of course, this wasn't her real body, but why on earth would a vampire choose such a childish glamour?
“You're utterly ridiculous,” he said bluntly.
She smiled.
“Oh? Am I? No more ridiculous than the Hellsing walking next to you,” she said.
Her smile was sickly sweet.
“So who are you, then? Another misbegotten vampiress come to take over the human world, destroying anyone who has the power to oppose you?” he sneered.
Her smile broadened.
“No. No such thing.”
“What then? Come to avenge yourself on the Hellsing for some petty slight committed before her birth?”
“Oh no! I have nothing in particular against the Hellsings.”
“Oh? What then? What possessed your foolish self to take on such a disgraceful appearance, and drag your whoring body up from hell to destroy my home and human property?” he said, his voice party a growl, partly a derisive laugh.
“I've lost something.”
“How careless of you,” Alucard said dryly.
He prayed that Integral would keep her mouth shut. In that moment it was as if the Cheshire Cat had completely forgotten her existence, and he preferred to keep it that way.
“Well, it wasn't quite my fault,” the Cheshire Cat pouted, “He ran away.”
“You lost your man? Even worse. You aren't making a very respectable impression,” Alucard taunted her.
The Cheshire Cat vampire's strange eyes crinkled in a smile. She thought he was teasing her.
“Well you see, my Prince, he has gone beyond my reach. Death has taken him, and I'm afraid I just haven't been able to get him back.”
Alucard raised an eyebrow.
“He died,” he said flatly, “And this foolishness was meant to do what? Taking lives will not raise him from the dead. No matter how many souls your little toys steal, no matter how many are killed, you cannot persuade Death to relinquish him. It doesn't work that way.”
“Oh? Have you ever tried?”
No, but it was a matter of common sense! This Cheshire Cat was beginning to annoy and unnerve him.
She had clearly lost her little mind.
“ALUCARD! GET AWAY FROM HER!!!”
Deyavi's voice stormed into his mind and he opened his eyes to see a swarm of bats sweeping down to land several feet ahead of them. Integral was shocked by the force of the mental scream and her eyes opened, and she ducked. The bats formed the bodies of Gavril and Deyavi who ran towards them madly, such a look of panic-fear on their faces that it gave him pause. He turned to see the Cheshire Cat grinning, fangs bared, the glamour gone. She was reaching for him, and his hand shot up and he fired the Jackal. Her hand was blown apart, and she leapt backward, away from him and his gun and his fury.
Her healing powers were incredible, even for a vampire. Comparable to his own, in fact. And he was sure she had not come by this power naturally. The bloody bits of her hand were quickly healed and within seconds she had a new appendage. But rather than come at him again, she giggled and her body dissolved into shadow.
Alucard turned and faced Deyavi.
“Apparently there are certain things you neglected to mention,” he said flatly.
She grimaced.
“If it was possible for me to tell you everything, believe me, I would have done so already,” she replied.
Alucard understood then.
“It was a condition of your return that you could not tell all you know.”
“It was the condition of our return.”
He looked up at the darkened, smoky sky and frowned. Integral, sensing that there was too much here she did not understand, went about straightening her clothes and listening. There was no room for her in this conversation.
“So how was it exactly that you were supposed to help me kill this little abomination?”
He returned his gaze to Deyavi and she smiled at him a little sadly, a little secretively.
“I hold her magic in my body. Even Fate was unable to remove it, but it is locked within my blood. I have tasted her blood, I have fed from her.”
“You intend for me to take your blood.”
“Yes. Gavril's, as well.”
“And what if I decide to take all of it?”
“That's your call, Prince.”
Deyavi shrugged and Gavril seemed equally unconcerned.
“You're awfully trusting.”
“Do we have a choice?”
Not really.
“When?”
Deyavi's jaw clenched and Alucard knew he had asked her a question she was forbidden from answering. Gavril glanced away.
“Well, I suppose we'll have to improvise,” Alucard chuckled.