Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ For What We Have Never Possessed ❯ For What We Have Never Possessed ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Even with his fullest concentration, Paladin Alexander Anderson could not drown out the mind-bending howls of the child in the room below him. She wailed endlessly, her screams and curses continuing without hope of reprieve. He could hear the nuns trying to calm her, and knew their efforts would be futile; the girl had worked herself into a hysterical rage, and there was little else to do besides grit one's teeth and wait it out.
As much as the situation resembled a demonic possession, it wasn't. It wasn't entirely the child's fault either. She had come to the orphanage from heinous circumstances and was understandably, disturbed.
The sound of breaking glass and pounding on wood let him know that she had gotten quite physical. More curses, cries for help, and animalistic cries led him to the conclusion that she had been restrained. As he counted the passing minutes, he realized she had fallen silent, and wondered if it was of her own volition, or if she had been medicated.
Either way, Anderson said an extra prayer for her as he polished his knives. The child could not help what she was, or the circumstances that made her. She was only a child; she did not know any better. And even if she did, she was only a child with no Christian upbringing. It was such a crying shame. So many lost children, and no one who could offer them the simple justice of a loving home. Turned out to the streets to fend a filthy living in a corrupt world. Abandoned. Alone. Utterly lost with no hope of salvation.
Such a fate was far too cruel for any of God's creatures.
God's creatures... There are things that walk the Earth that are not of God. There are Hell spawn that haunt the night and prey on the soul the innocent. Unholy denizens of Hell. And they deserve pain.
But did they deserve the fate that was far too cruel for any of God's creatures ? Had they not once been of God? Had they not once been
The general nostalgia sickened him. He had no sympathy for the undead. Their souls had long departed and dæmons inhabited their forms. Dæmons capable of deceiving anyone who was foolish enough to believe in their humanity . Dæmons like the disciple of damned Hellsing vampire. That girl with the red hair.
Of course she had feared him. She saw the holy zeal in his eyes and the blessings on his blades. And through it all, she wore the mask of Seras Victoria. She clung to that dead woman's identity with startling tenacity. She believed that because she inhabited that body, because she had the memories, she was Seras Victoria. The accuracy of the masquerade was simply astonishing.
And her refusal to drink blood. Exactly what a good girl like Seras Victoria would have done. Yet, Anderson knew the hunger of a vampire could not go forever without being satiated. Sooner or later she would give in to temptation. Sooner or later she would drain the life blood out of another mortal. Sin cannot be hidden forever.
Sir Integra Hellsing was a foolish woman. Strong, noble, perhaps even admirable, but she was a fool. No mortal can control those creatures forever. Their baser instincts surface, and it is useless to try to suppress them. She sacrificed honor in employing the Nosferatu. It was all with good intent of course; she believed that Hellsing alone had the power to eradicate the night dwellers. Yet, the flaw with her reasoning could not be overlooked Still, perhaps, one could romanticize her as a sort of tragic Faust; her harmartia being hubris.
Anderson smiled ruefully. Perhaps he could identify with her sin.
He was one man blessed by God.
But he was only one man. And he was only a man.
He ran his fingers across the prominent scar on his left cheek. Being a regenerator was not alwaysfun. And killing was not alwayspleasurable. Though he could hardly deny the call of battlethe heat of blood. He could not justify it. After every hunt, he would do severe penance for hissins.
Still, he was hardly a suitable priest. Due to the carnage and suchwhat kind of example was he for the children? Well, they weren't aware of everything he did.
He let the holy knives rest on his knees as he stroked the stubble on his chin. He laughed softly at his thoughts.
For a chosen holy templar of God, he made a rather scruffy priest.
Father Anderson? A knock came at his door.
Anderson quickly shoved his knives out of sight and took a look around his sparse room for any other incriminating items. Damn it was messy.
Come in, he called, adjusting his collar a little sheepishly. Indeed, he was no shining example to anyone.
The door opened, and the slender form of Wolfe Heinkel slunk into his quarters.
Lovely place, she commented wryly. Anderson raised a brow.
Heinkel, what brings you here?
Just in the neighborhood- decided to check up on my fellow Iscariot. She smiled sardonically.
I'm honored- a social call from the misanthropic Wolfe Heinkel? Anderson smiled back, less sarcastically, and more predatorily.
Heinkel leaned back against the wall, her shades sliding precariously off her nose, and a cigarette dangling from her mouth. I was bored.
Anderson shrugged. It's not very exciting here.
It's a bloody orphanage; what a terrible place.
I assume you are not fond of kids?
Well I obviously don't have any of my own.
Despite the irreverence of her humor, Anderson chuckled. True, true. Is Yumiko with you?
Nah. Yumiko hasother things to do. Yumiko's not like us, Heinkel said with a trace of bitterness. And Yumie is simply toospastic for every day life.
I'm a regular berserker, myself, Heinkel.
I know. But, I was bored, and I figured I'd come chat with a fellow Iscariot, she reiterated casually. You know, someone who won't think I'm crazy when I talk about the walking dead.
Yumiko, for all her gentleness, knows about as much as I do. Anderson was slightly puzzled at her reasons for coming. Heinkel was by no means, friendly. She was efficient and business-like. He was pretty sure he had not seen her in any other mode.
Yumiko doesn't like to talk about the stuff Yumie does. Besides, Yumiko doesn't feel the same way we do. After all, she's got two people in her headif not more.
Heinkel frowned at Anderson's expression. Were the Scots all this dense? Hell, she didn't want to flat out say, Hello, Iscariot has put a serious crimp in my social life. I have no friends. So, you kill things too? Let's be buddies.
Come to talk about freaks? Anderson flexed his fingers with a slight grin.
Came to talk.
Anderson retrieved the blades he had shoved under a pillow and the chamois he'd been using. He mildly wondered what the other clergy members were thinking. This strange crass woman showing up past dinner to see a priest; it was a rather interesting situation.
Aren't you going to offer me a seat? Heinkel asked dryly as she lit her cigarette.
Want a seat, lass?
Don't mind if I do. She moved over to Anderson's bed and took the unoccupied space beside him.
Anderson did not comment, but brought out another set of blades from beneath his bed. With startling deftness he began to clean them as well.
Don't do much with your downtime, eh? Heinkel took a long drag on her cancer stick and stared coolly at Anderson from behind her shades.
I'm a priest, he said rather blandly.
So offer me a drink.
Anderson stared blankly at Heinkel. The younger woman seemedtense. This behavior was surprising. Women were simply unfathomable.
Of what?
Something strong.
Anderson did not possess the presence of mind to be embarrassed. They both knew that nights were long and lonely, and the mind played far too many tricks to be trusted to its own devices. Sometimes an old cure-all did some good.
Upper corner of that cabinet. He gestured to one that was well placed, to deter curious children from discovering his cache.
Heinkel glanced at him darkly. I'm not tall enough to reach that.
Anderson exhaled, still bewildered by her presence. He put aside the weapons and procured the liquor. He offered it to Heinkel who uncorked it and drank it straight up. She rested the bottle in her lap.
Thanks.
You're welcome. Anderson returned to his spot. I must ask, why have you come? We're not especially close. No enmity, but we're notfriends.
She did not answer, but instead took a long swig from the bottle before offering it back to him. Anderson shrugged and took a drink as well. He passed it back to the stoic woman. She downed a bit more.
Do I have to keep spelling it out, Anderson? I want to talk. About what? I have no idea. I just know I want to talk to another human being who won't give me their constant prattling sympathies.
So you came to me. Anderson decided that this was shaping up to be an interesting conversation and put aside his work.
Yea. I kill. You kill. I figured there might be some understanding here.
Anderson nodded slowly. Something bothering you?
Heinkel's smile was not pleasant.
Life in general.
Is this a confession?
Probably. Heinkel took another gulp. Russian pisswater, eh?
I don't go to the liquor store often. Anderson noted the droop in her posture and the bitterness in her voice. It was night and he was finally beginning to truly awaken. All this hunting had thrown his internal clock into chaos.
I hate this shit. Heinkel's shades were truly in danger of falling off, and Anderson detected a slight tremor in her voice.
We're doing God's work, he answered gently, not really needing to inquire what this shit was.
Yea, I know. Her composure returned as she looked at him. But don't you ever have issues with faith? Don't you ever wonder why the Hell it had to be this way?
The shock slowly invaded his body making its way up to his mind. Heinkel was having a crisisand of all the choice maniacs of Division XIII, she'd chosen him as a confidante. Anderson sighed softly.
Conflicts of faith? Perhapsbut those were put aside for the concrete evil before him. FREAKS, vampires, ghouls, etc. etc. etc.
I'm an instrument of God, he said simply. But, of course, I have my doubts about some issues.
Heinkel was silent for a long time. Anderson sat before her, studying her blank face. Her messy blonde hair managed to add additional cover for her eyes. The cigarette butt was clenched firmly between her teeth. Heinkel did not come off as very womanly. She reminded him of a certain Hellsing
And that certain Hellsing reminded him of himself.
Perhaps that was what Heinkel had been referring to earlier.
Division XIII's a mental ward, isn't it? Anderson mused. Yumiko has multiple personalities; I'm a Scot with an uncontrollable rage; Father Maxwell is simplydevious, Anderson grinned. What's wrong with Wolfe Heinkel?
She fingered the cross that hung around her neck. Wolfe Heinkel takes no joy from life. Thou shalt not kill, and yet, what do I spend my time doing? Hell, it's fuck'in necessary, butI get tired. Sometimes I wish someone would just strike me down in battleand that would be the end. But I can't just let that happen, can I? I can't seem to dieand neither can you. How's it feel?
Exhilarating in battle. Tedious in life.
Same here.
You should not regret the gift God has given you, Heinkel.
I know.
It would help if you didn't always isolate yourself, lass. He towered over the younger woman.
I know.
So you came to me.
You won't give me pity. I have pride, Anderson. It is a sin, I know. But I cannot possess any of the meekness of the innocent.
I know the feeling. And it hurts to be alone. But in the end, we must bear it; it is life. And being a regenerator, I know what it's liketo be alone.
What about worthless?
You're not worthless.
Heinkel fell silent once more.
It was strange, to see her this way. She, who always seemed to be in unruffled control, sodepressed. And why not? The life of a paladin was hard. Even more so when one felt so lonely. For a moment, her tragic figure reminded him of the crying child from before. Heinkel would not carry on in the same manner, but she would internalize all that pain, that suffering.
Heinkel finished the bottle as Anderson contemplated her condition. This huge Scotsman tolerated her hedonism with surprising patience, and for that, she was exceedingly grateful. With the darkness growing, she removed her sunglasses. Hell, she was so tired. She slumped forlorn on his bed.
Anderson noted with surprise that she had taken off her shades. With the new picture in place, he studied her features. Her hair was more unruly than his and a little longer. Her face was distinctly feminine, and her pale lips, full. She had captivating eyes, startling bright, and strangely unfocused at the moment. She was, to his initial surprise, quite pretty.
Do you have any plans for the rest of the week? Anderson asked quietly.
Not that I know of, Heinkel answered honestly. She looked up at the priest who offered only understanding.
Why don't you stay around here for awhile? The rest will do you good.
Heinkel stared at him wordlessly.
I
Anderson stood and gave her a reassuring grin. You need the rest as much as I do. Take my room; it's messy, but you'll have all the privacy you need.
Thank you, she said quietly, unsure of what else to say.
You're welcome. I'll see you in the morning.
Yes.
He nodded to her, and exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
Heinkel dropped her coat on the floor and the weapons on top of the pile. Looking around, she placed her accessories on the nightstand and pulled the blankets back.
What the Hell was she doing?
She wasn't sure, but she didn't have the desire to leave the orphanage that night. With a strangely accepting sigh, Wolfe Heinkel, slid beneath the covers and rested fell into a dreamless slumber.

Anderson was not exactly certain what had come over him. Still, he made himself comfortable by the door. One of the nuns gave him an odd look and he smiled back brightly.
Our charming guest has my bed, he explained.


Heinkel finally began to stir after finding she was facing the east.
Damn sun.
Whoops. Blasphemous thought; she'd make up for it at confession. Later.
She finally opened her eyes at the sound of yelling children. Another unholy thought crossed her mind.
Heinkel groaned as she realized what she had done the night before. She looked around the room, and found it seemed much tidier. Her coat had been picked up and hung neatly in the closet, and a set of robes, along with basic hygienic materials had been laid out for her.
Anderson had been in here.
Well of course, it was his room.
Heinkel stretched rather reluctantly. This was the best she'd slept in ages. Still, Anderson would probably give her a hard time for sleeping in. She slid out of bed and took the items.
Now where was the bathroom?

Anderson ate his lunch with gusto. He'd been a little late for breakfast, and so, missed it. Yet, the nuns had mercy and he was now enjoying a large lunch.
Good afternoon, Father Anderson.
Anderson turned to see Heinkel standing there, in the robes he'd put out. She looked rested and he greeted her.
Join me for some lunch, Heinkel. Then we can take the children out for some football.
Heinkel forced herself not to wrinkle her nose at that suggestion. Already she'd received some curious looks from the children. It was rather annoying.
Whatever you say.
Heinkel wandered up to the kitchens and retrieved some food, before sitting down with Anderson.
Is it edible?
Anderson laughed heartily.
See for yourself.
Heinkel looked at him balefully before spooning some soup into her mouth. Not bad. Not bad.
Anderson grinned at her. Eat up, lass. I'm going to kick your butt in some football. Heinkel recognized that competitive mad light anywhere, and smiled in spite of herself.
That' s what you think.

It was times like these that made Alexander Anderson believe that life really was good. The spreading warmth of sunlight was a wonderful contrast to the usual cool moonlight that he was so used to. He chuckled and adjusted his glasses. Yes, it was a fine day to be alive.
Heinkel, on the other hand, made sure to get her shades on before leaving the mess hall. She stood beside him, dwarfed by his massive frame. This temperate Anderson was not the Anderson she knew. Did everyone have a hidden persona besides her? Heinkel glanced up at the older priest and shoved her hands into her pockets. Maybe it was a mistake to come here.
It's a fine day, isn't it Heinkel?
...I suppose. She noted a ragtag troop of children coming their way. One held a familiar black and white ball.
You promised to play football with us, Father Anderson!
Anderson grinned at Heinkel. Aye, I did.

It was more fun than she thought. This football...soccer, whatever they called it. She and Anderson had been placed on opposite teams. It took all the self-control she possessed not to simply steal the ball away from every child. Instead, she focused on covering Anderson, the big oaf. He was laughing and playing, going easy on the children. The contrast between I-love-orphans Anderson, and I-hate-vampires Anderson annoyed her a bit. Through all of this, how could he be so happy...?
She stole the ball away from a boy and ran, dribbling it down the field. Noting Anderson ahead, she decided to pass it to a rather hapless looking boy behind him. She kicked it hard, still running toward Anderson, drawing his attention. Momentum was a powerful thing and she let it carry her by.
He tripped her.
It was probably accidental. And in her mind, it all occurred rather slowly. One moment she was sliding through the grass, the next she was horizontal mid-air. Then she went back to the grass.
Heinkel glared at the ground rather balefully and then looked up at Anderson.
Are you all right? He asked extending a large hand.
...Been better. Heinkel ignored the hand and picked herself up, wondering if there was any chance for her to regain her pride. The kids had all stopped to stare and she decided that no, there was no chance. She sighed and brushed herself off.
To her surprise, and chargrin, Anderson began to chuckle.
You should've seen your face, lass! T'was priceless!
Heinkel favored him with a dark look and resisted the urge to do something immature, like kicking him in the shins.

Anderson realized his mistake as Heinkel silently stalked off. He looked rather sheepishly at the group of children.
I'm sorry, I better go after her.
After much protest, and even a few tears, they let him go. By then however, Heinkel was out of sight. He searched for her aura and found it stationary in one of the gardens. Perhaps she needed more time alone.
He massaged his temples slowly. There was a certain agony and ecstasy that came with their lifestyle. A primal rush that ensured survival and something darker. He knew about that. Yes, he knew all about that.

Heinkel stayed in the gardens all afternoon. As twilight fell, she stirred from her spot on cooling stone and ivy. It was truly childish to sit and sulk. Anderson probably knew where she was, but wisely left her alone. There was a certain emptiness about her. An unalienable loneliness that only served to deepen the bitterness of her fate. Heinkel brooded, somewhat ashamed of all the self-centered thinking. Maybe it was a hormone issue.
God, she was so miserable.
She remained there a bit longer, holding a rather optimistic hope that a miracle might occur and she would wake up ten years ago. But you can't change the past.
It was very dark before she decided to leave. Yes, she would leave. She would thank Father Anderson for his time and his care, and apologize for any inconvenience that she might have caused. With a groan, she stood, a little sore from the spill she had taken. Work usually required intense concentration and dodging bullets. Not being tripped by a Scottish behemoth in a rough game of football. She scowled.
As she exited the garden, she noted movement by the windows. Curious, she wandered a bit closer, and in the pale moonlight, saw two figures prowling. Automatically she palmed her guns. Why the Hell would people want to burglarize a bloody orphanage? People were so stupid. Heinkel growled in the back of her throat as she drew nearer.
The two figures turned towards her. Crimson light shone in their eyes, and Heinkel recognized the breed.
Vampires.
Oh Hell. Her guns weren't loaded with the appropriate vampire killing materials. Where the Hell was Anderson?
Catholic scum, one of the supernatural vandals yelled.
Momentarily forgetting about her lack of proper ammunition, Heinkel opened fire on them. Bullets pierced flesh, only to ejected after a few minutes.
We're vampires you fool!
Heinkel gritted her teeth as they came charging at her. She threw herself to the right, narrowly missing flesh tearing talons. She rolled, keeping low as the vampires continued their attack.
They were both male, and clad, ever so originally, in black. She made a mental note to commend that damned Hellsing Nosferatu for his originality.
It's a woman, one of them leered rather suggestively.
The other lunged, and Heinkel jumped back, parrying its blows with her guns. Damnit, this situation was getting out of hand. She smashed the side of one of her guns into the vampire's face. It snarled and backhanded her. She fell backwards onto the soft ground.
This bitch has been a lot of trouble. The duo stood above Heinkel as she tried to focus her vision. Damn these undead dæmons and their supernatural strength. One delivered a swift kick to her ribs. The Iscariot bit her lip as she felt the rage mounting. These cheap FREAK vampires, there was no way under the will of God that she would lose to some cheap imitation of blasphemy. As one leaned over, Heinkel brought her knee up and rammed him in the neck. Even if he was dead, that had to do something.