Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Field of Grey ❯ Sunlight ( Chapter 2 )

Anderson struggled to keep conscious, focusing on the pain in his chest in order to keep himself awake.His whole body throbbed, and his face was a mask of great annoyance. All he wanted was to be able to get up, and leave. Sadly that was not possible. His vision was slowly getting clearer, somewhat hindered by a red smear on his glasses. It served as a constant reminder of what had just occurred, as if his wounds weren't enough.

There was a deep loathing within him. Not only had be been bested by piece of second rate scum, but then healed by her.

Oh how he loathed her.

He attempted to lift his arm. It rose a few inches, shaking all the time. No, he still wasn't well enough yet. He sighed, but his breath got caught in his chest and pain raced through him. It should not take this long to heal, he thought to himself. His face was beginning to warm from the rising sun, and absently wondered if she had been burnt in the sunlight. Surely that would make the job of tracking her down and killing her easier.

It all started out as his impatience. Wondering idily if he would cross paths with Alucard, he had walked from the safehouse in the nearby town, following where ever his feet had taken him. Eventually, he came across a chruch. Grey in the moonlight, it captivated him, like many churches did.

"Bitch," he spat, and forced himself up. Pain racked his body, and if he were a lesser man he would have listened to his body's protestations. Crawling over to the roadside, Anderson began to collect his blades. No use in wasting perfectly good blades that would be useful in the future. Then he came to the blade she had so easily plunged into him, and he paused. It was covered in dried blood, and obviously was rusting already on some molecular level. Careless, he thought to himself, completely careless. There shouldn't have been even a moment where he hesitated enough that she could gain the upper hand. Anderson then grew angry with himself. he hadn't fought as hard as he could have. Did he hold off because she was a girl? Because she was so young? He wasn't sure. All he knew is that the cost of hesitation was higher than he could afford.

It wouldn't be like that next time.


Demon.

He turned onto his back, and stared into the pale shades of pink and orange that had on the horizon. He used his left hand to reach for his cross, he needed God's guidance. His groping hand found nothing though, only ripped fabric, and a healing chest. Panicked, he scanned the area for the cross. For a few moments, he saw nothing, and then, in the grass. A piece caught the light and caught his attention. His Cross. It was lying in pieces only a few meters away. His anger and frustration at himself grew. Not only had she destroyed him, but she destroyed the only symbol he held truly sacred.

And for that, above all, she would pay.

Sliding the blades back into his shredded coat, he used both arms to slowly push himself up into at least a sitting position. The pain was lessening, and his vision was clear. He could smell blood and metal; a scent so similar he wondered how he could tell the difference. Another pain shot through his chest, and he thought he was going to vomit right there and then. Then a ghost of a memory hit him. She's kissed him. Corner of the mouth. Right after healing him.

That time he did throw up.

The acidic taste of the bile seemed to awaken his senses even more, and he shook in disgust. He needed to get out of here. Needed it desperately. This time he forced himself up, away from the cross, away from the bile, and away from that newly burgundy field. At the minimum, he could make it back to the safehouse by noon, but he knew it wouldn't take that long.

Master would be pleased, she reasured herself, right before she quickly thought otherwise. It had been a game for her in these last few hours. Guessing Alucard's reaction. No doubt he already knew, his perverse sense of fun did included reaching into her mind, no matter how much she protested. His reaction, was the variable. Seras stared at the lid above her. She had good intentions getting into the coffin, sleep more than anything else. But now, many hours later, she was still awake, and most definatly not at ease. She started mentally counting down from 100. 100, 99, 98, 97, 96.... burgandy field.. 95, 94, 93... oh fuck it.

Somehow she knew the Paladin would be killing her. When, she wasn't sure. But she knew it would happen.