Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Lab Specimen (I) ❯ Experiment III ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to its respective creator and companies. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

“A person who forgoes the use of his symbolic skills is never really free.”

 

-Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, “Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience”

 

 

November 19, 1897, morning

 

We delayed experimentation set for yesterday to today just as a precautionary measure in case the Count was still too weak. However, my worries were all for naught, as when I went to check on him yesterday morning, he was back to sleeping quietly in his coffin—an empty bottle abandoned on the floor next to him that was originally filled with his ration of blood for the day before.

 

We began experimentation at midnight, subjecting him to garlic—something light to start out with before heavy experimentation begins.

 

We started out just by recording the results of his reactions around the smell of the garlic and then later moved on to him actually consuming it. The results weren't a pleasant sight to look upon, not to mention that the smell did absolutely nothing to improve the situation.

 

Going along with Darwin's Theory of Evolution, if subjected to something that hinders one's survival, the body should adapt to compensate for that reaction. As such, small amounts of garlic will be added to his daily blood ration while increasing that amount gradually every other week. The results will then be recorded and compared to those taken before to see if there has been any improvement at the end of each month.

 

-Abraham Van Helsing

 

Indeed, subjecting me to garlic wasn't a pretty sight.

 

They had chained me to the basement wall before I had even become fully awake.

 

At first, I couldn't figure out why I wasn't able to break through such chains as I normally could, as they weren't silver, but then it struck me—a restraining spell. Nevertheless, I thrashed about anyway just to make it harder in spite of them.

 

Like always, I had no idea what Abraham had in store for me, and I only managed to get useless snippets of his assistants' thoughts, as Van Helsing had probably told them to make sure their minds were empty of anything pertaining to my experimentation.

 

So, when the smell of garlic being brought into the room reached my olfactory nerves, I wasn't at all prepared for it.

 

My eyes began to water and wretched gagging sounds started spewing out of the back of my throat. I fought the horrible urge to vomit, though I wasn't sure if I could retain my hold on that for much longer.

 

I didn't like the smell of garlic to begin with as a human and I still don't like it now, not that you could blame me—awful stuff.

 

I was still a little drowsy then, so it took a few seconds for me to register the feel of hands holding me down. I expected the blood sample, as that was a procedure performed every other day, but when my jaw was forced open and garlic powder poured down my throat, a large jolt to my system snapped my eyes open to what—I expect—were the size of dinner plates. However, it was too late. Garlic touched my tongue and before I could do anything, I heard Van Helsing's voice:

 

“Don't you dare vomit that back up, Count. That's an order.”

 

Despite how much my body needed to purge itself, the seals pressed down on me, activated by Van Helsing's order.

 

I don't know how long I was watched, and during that time, I didn't rightly care—I was more concerned with the burning feeling residing in my gut, nose, and throat. My eyes were watering and my vision was blurring. Eventually, the room began to spin.

 

And then there was nothing…

 

---

 

My slumber was restless throughout the next day, but no one had come in to wake me up. Even if they did, they probably couldn't—not when I was dreaming for the first time in so long.

 

There was this woman—tall, alert, and with an aura of honor and pride about her. She was of a darker complexion, maybe from Indian descent, but her light hair told stories of the English. Her back was ramrod straight and she was shouting orders to someone named “Alucard”.

 

It didn't make any damn sense!

 

When her eyes finally locked on to mine, something in my brain clicked. Those cold, clear eyes were the same as Van Helsing's themselves! As soon as this revelation occurred to me, the world came into sharp focus—my eyes snapping open.

 

It wasn't until later—much later—that I had not dreamt, but had unconsciously procured a premonition of my future master.

 

That is a story all unto itself, however, so there is no point for me to go into it at the moment.

 

All those thoughts were suddenly shoved aside roughly as that horrible burning sensation deep within the pit of my stomach began again. While the symptoms of garlic were not nearly as horrid as the day before, they still made my head spin.

 

I…cannot really describe what had happened next, but all of the blood and garlic from the day before, along with some of my stomach's own bile, rushed up into my throat where it was then expelled out of my lips, washing over my tongue in the process. Needless to say, I wasn't fast enough and made a mess of myself (as if I wasn't enough of a mess already). It wasn't until later that I realized this fact, though.

 

Almost immediately after my involuntary purging, I felt the hard press of the restriction seals for the second time.

 

I had technically disobeyed my orders given to me previously, but really, did it warrant punishment due to a natural reaction on my part?

 

I don't really remember all that much after that due to memory impairment from some thing or another that Abraham did, but I had more is store for me; this much I knew. So much more…

 

November 23, 1897, dusk

 

The experimentation with the garlic powder was both a failure and a success. The Count did not hold up on his part, however.

 

When we found him, unconscious and involuntarily twitching, he was covered in vomit that must have been expelled only ten minutes prior. I left one of my assistants to clean up while I took a sample of what was on the floor. Much of it, I have found, is just blood, bile, and plasma, but pieces of undigested garlic were apparent.

 

This has created the need for another study, as the amount of garlic didn't nearly equal the amount of the powder given to him three nights ago. Also, what had caused the powder to turn into solid pieces and where had the rest of the garlic gone? Certainly he did not digest it, as vampires cannot perform that bodily function, but his physiology has become quite the mystery as of late, so that should have been expected.

 

I am still shaken to the core from last night's events, and again, the Count's screams follow me even in my slumber.

 

Dissection has begun in preparation for sunlight resistance. We plan to study pieces of his organs (excluding his heart for the moment due to the significant risk it poses at present) to somehow quell his sensitivity as well as whatever causes it. But those inhuman screams…

 

No, I mustn't let such a trivial thing bother me. He is not human, nor is he alive, so I can spare no sympathy. I can only wait until the cultivation stage has finished before I start anything else.

 

At this point, only time will tell.

 

-Abraham Van Helsing

 

Every so often, I find myself dreaming of this day—of my dissection—and every time, a high-pitched scream is wrenched from my lips.

 

While my current master has become indifferent with this occurrence, she still sends down a blood packet or two as I always feel as starved as the day the event actually took place. The police girl, on the other hand, ran from the dungeon screaming (and from what my master says, babbling incoherently as well), causing all the soldiers of Hellsing to erupt into a panicked frenzy. She can be such a complete fool at times.

 

But enough about them. I must breach the topic at hand, no matter how painful it is for me to tell this to you.

 

I don't know how long I was out nor how long it was until Van Helsing and his assistants found me, but when I regained my reeling senses and gotten a firm hold on my bearings, I yet again found myself chained to a wall, though this time I was in what I later found out was one of Van Helsing's experimental laboratories. They must have taken every precaution known to man, using silver chains and shackles reinforced with iron, and the manacle around my neck prevented me from doing any danger to others and, more likely, to myself. Believe me, if I could have gnawed my own arm off in even a sliver of a chance to escape, I would have. As I've said before, I wanted nothing to do with Van Helsing's experiments or whatever else he had planned for me.

 

I couldn't have done anything if I had wanted to either (and I certainly did), as I was too groggy and exhausted. My senses were so out of alignment that I couldn't even feel the silver burning into my flesh, nor the smell of smoke as scorched layers of skin were removed, causing the shackles to meet bare bone, and even then it didn't stop there.

 

I was in Hell. A slow, agonizing, never-ending Hell. And speaking of which…

 

Van Helsing's face swam into focus and I must have looked positively—what do you humans call it nowadays? Drugged?—as I caught the word “pitiful” emerge from his lips. When he began to speak to me directly, however, his voice was faint, like the last hint of an echo bouncing off the walls in a dark coordoor.

 

“You are to stay compliant for the entirety of this procedure and offer no resistance. Do I make myself clear, Servant?”

 

I inwardly cringed at the title. Was I not once royalty? Never should I have been called someone else's inferior. But I digress, I was smart enough to keep those thoughts to myself and, like a good pet, I rasped, “Yes…my master…”

 

The last word tasted almost foreign on my tongue, and I honestly didn't mean to say it—it just forced its way past my lips without my notice.

 

Great… So it seemed the seals were finally up and running from being properly adjusted. Those were going to be an enjoyment for me throughout the years. That is…if I managed to last that long.

 

I was soon cut off from the world with the first wave of pain across my midsection. I looked down, and what I saw disturbed even me—and I had seen a lot in my lifetime.

 

My entire gut had been sliced open, my stomach and intestines clearly visible, the latter of which were beginning to spill out. I felt whatever blood was left in my face leaving me and I started to feel sick.

 

Being a vampire, the sight of blood and gore has never bothered me since I work with it on a daily basis, but seeing my own innards for the first time was another matter entirely.

 

An assistant with a large saw stepped towards me and roughly jerked my head down, blocking the rest of my view. I knew what was going to happen and wanted to struggle, but I couldn't. I was not allowed. There was the sickening sound of metal grinding against bone as a sharp, blinding, absolutely unbearable pain spread across my temple. The world spun around me—and then faded—before I was engulfed completely by the warm blanket of unconsciousness once again.

 

November 25, 1987, midnight

 

The cultivation stage is almost complete, and soon we will be able to start the in-depth examination and adaptation implementation.

 

The Count is still motionless at present, and at first I feared that I had truly killed him, but no, this wasn't the case as I heard an unmistakable low growl emerge from his coffin when I came down for a status report.

 

I must say, I do pity him, somewhat. Whether he realized he was screaming throughout the whole procedure, even when unconscious, I do not know. Some of my assistants still have nightmares that make them physically ill or make them hear the Count's screams ringing in their ears once again. Many are afraid to close their eyes at all in fear of encountering these symptoms, and thus have gotten little to no sleep.

 

Tomorrow, everything will be better. I can only hope.

 

-Abraham Van Helsing

 

No, I didn't realize I was screaming that night, though I can imagine I was. And honestly, you couldn't really blame me. The whole procedure, as I have mentioned before, was all rather painful—and even that's putting it mildly.

 

I became fully conscious two days after the dissection, and while everything had healed itself (I later learned Abraham had given me some sort of mixture of blood and medicine to speed up the process of the reparation of the wounds), whenever I looked down, I still saw my innards, and each time I began to feel sick to my stomach.

 

I cannot say I remained conscious throughout the next few days, however. Due to disorientation and sheer exhaustion, I wound up alternating from consciousness to random intervals of sleep. I honestly don't believe it was even intentional, but something that just happened without warning. I was tired. So very, very tired. I feel groggy just thinking about it, now.

 

There really is not that much to say concerning the next few days and I frequently lost track of the time and wasn't exactly fully aware of my surroundings, so I'm going to jump ahead a little bit.

 

It was the next week, I think, when the cultures were ready, and the results were interesting, to say the least.

 

By the time Abraham came down to perform another routine status check, I was so pitifully weak and weary that my hair had lost its pigmentation and my skin had taken on a sickly, ashen-grey color.

 

I'm sure Van Helsing noticed, but more than likely didn't really care. After all, more important things happened that evening—one that I will never forget. This was the day I received my name.

 

November 30, 1897

 

My assistants and I have dubbed the creature “Alucard”. Yes, the name may seem a bit obvious to those who are sharp enough and know of his origins, but for the most part, people can be rather stupid and dull at times and will never notice what is right in front of them unless it comes up and smacks them in the face.

 

John Harker and his wife have not returned, and for this I am grateful for I fear that the results of my experiments—nonetheless the sight—would be too much for their innocent and relatively naïve minds to handle.

 

The Count still seems weary, even though it has been five days since the dissection. This is probably because he will not drink the blood offered—and even though I can tell he desires it, he is too lethargic to move and he currently cannot swallow and keep food down long enough as well as both he and I would like. I don't know why he hasn't healed fully yet, in both body and intellect.

 

I still have not yet solved the mystery of the garlic, so I have set that aside for the moment.

 

Once the creature has returned to full strength, we shall start injecting him with the mercury sample that we have based off of the data we managed to collect from a piece of one of his dissected arteries.

 

I can only hope that the full blow of winter holds off on its arrival just a little while longer.

 

-Abraham Van Helsing

 

I can never forget this day—won't let myself forget this day. It is too important a chapter of my unlife to forget, as a name is a sacred thing, no matter how unimaginative and ironic it may seem.

 

It is the start of a whole new life.

 

I had heard the door opening and the heavy footfalls that I easily recognized as Van Helsing's. I was too tired to snarl at him and too encompassed by pain to engage in our usual verbal matches.

 

In all honestly, I just wanted to be left alone. Was that so much to ask for?

 

“Alucard!” The word bounced off and echoed throughout the room.

 

Yes, obviously it was too much to ask for.

 

I didn't bother replying. After all, how was I supposed to know that was to be my name from then on? Despite that, though, the word struck a cord within me, igniting a thought I had since dismissed as useless. Alucard… Now where had I heard that word before?

 

“Count, look at me when I speak to you!” Van Helsing demanded after a few beats of silence. He obviously wasn't in a very good mood tonight.

 

I struggled for a minute or two trying to prop myself into an upright position, but somehow still couldn't lift my head. Realizing that was as far as I could go, I settled on looking up at him through my eyelashes—not that I really had much of a choice in the matter.

 

To exhausted to speak, I sent a thought out to him:

 

What do you want this time, Abraham? Come to do some more testing on me? You know that if you keep this up, I'm not going to last much longer.

 

He smiled wryly.

 

“Not tonight, Alucard,” he stated. “Maybe a little later, though.”

 

Are there any particular reasons as to why I am being called in such a manner, or is it just one of your sick fancies? I countered back, still trying to dig up where the name had been mentioned earlier.

 

“It is to be your new name while you reside in my family's estate. After all, is it not fitting that you be addressed in that way as your life is soon to become backwards from all that you once knew, just like your name?” His tone was almost mocking.

 

You need a blood sample again, tonight? I asked him, abruptly changing the subject. I didn't need his taunts tonight.

 

“No, fortunately. I honestly don't feel like dealing with your usual difficulties at the moment.”

 

Good for you.

 

“I told you I'm in no mood for your quips tonight, Alucard.”

 

Forgive me, my master.

 

Again, the response was automatic yet still just as distasteful to say as it was before.

 

I paused in my thoughts for a moment, still trying to get accustomed to the use of that last word before I continued.

 

I'm supposing you came down to tell me something more than that, however?

 

“Indeed,” Van Helsing replied, pursing his lips. “I'm a little concerned about your present condition.”

 

How so? I asked, genuinely intrigued as the matter must have been rather serious if it prompted Van Helsing to be concerned about my condition, of all things.'

 

“There is silver in your blood, somehow, but I can't quite figure out why. I fear this might be the reason why your recovery has been mediocre, at best.”

 

So what do you plan to do then?

 

“We'll wait a few days to see if a certain enzyme in your blood will rid of it for you.”

 

This information was new.

 

And if it gets worse? I asked.

 

“We're still working on that.”

 

I lay back down and suddenly found the ceiling rather interesting. Was God still sending his wrath down upon me for incidents from ages past, or was it just that Fate had the tendency to make one frequently experience the ironic? Either way, the stakes were certainly not in my favor.

 

Anything even remotely positive? I asked, wondering where my condition was heading.

 

“No.”

 

I feel very blessed, then.

 

I could sense Van Helsing mentally rolling his eyes at my last remark before a faint clink reached my ears.

 

“Next to your coffin are two bottles of blood. That is to be your ration for the month,” he explained, his footsteps wandering off in the general direction of the basement's door. “I suggest you use it wisely.”

 

And with that, there was the slam of the heavy door followed by the sounds of whatever method Van Helsing had devised for the purpose of keeping the door firmly shut. Those sounds, however, somehow managed to unlock the floodgate leading to my memories and suddenly, it hit me.

 

“Alucard” was the name the woman in my dream had used, but its meaning as to why it was used was still not clear. She was somehow linked to Van Helsing—that much I knew—but in what way? As far as I knew, Van Helsing didn't have any direct descendents, nor was he married. I couldn't rule out the possibility of affairs, of course. After all, I had had many in my time. But most importantly, how had she—had how I—known what my new name was to be?

 

These jumbled series of questions only managed to produce a large blank in my mind, and as I lay there, I couldn't help but wonder—what did it all mean?

 

Author's Note: I'm terribly sorry for the long delay, my dear readers. Life has the funny way of sneaking up on you and sucking your writing time up like a sponge. I feel this chapter has degraded in writing style, so any feedback on that would be much appreciated. As always, this has yet to go under a full revision, and I apologize in advance for any typos that you might find. Finally, constructive criticism is very much appreciated. Thank you for your patience.