Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Renfield Wasn't Crazy ❯ A Quiet Sort of Girl ( Chapter 2 )

Renfield Wasn't Crazy

Chapter Two: A Quiet Sort of Girl.

 

 

It was a modern jungle. Buildings rose up like metal trees while people bustled about, taking in the smell of urban living, and the sound of millions of voices all talking at the same time. The air was thin and smelled faintly of oil and hotdogs. Shops littered every corner, with brightly lit displays proclaiming 50% discounts. The general area was filled with the din of music, shouting, laughing, and crying. Pavement, covered in grime and cracks, stretched out as far as the eye could see. And over this nighttime setting streetlamps cast an eerie orange glow. London was a busy city.

 

…For the most part.

 

The oldest city park was filled with ancient oak, beach, and pine trees. Between the trees were dirt and gravel paths that wove themselves intricately throughout the green district. On the sides of the paths were iron benches of the beautiful, but extremely uncomfortable, variety. Sitting on one of these benches were the only inhabitants of the park: a laptop, a cup of hazelnut coffee, a battered copy of Dracula, and a girl. Said girl was around twenty, willowy, pale, blonde haired, and blue eyed.

 

And frustrated. Oh, so very frustrated.

 

Seras Victoria had gotten about as far as, “The novel Dracula, by Bram Stoker, is filled with interesting and highly symbolic characters…” when she promptly ran out of ideas. Well now, that's not entirely correct. To be fair, she had plenty of ideas; she just didn't know how to go about writing them down. This was always where school had been hardest for Seras; she could talk about things, discuss them at length, but never could she seem to write them down. She took a sip of her coffee, briefly toying with the idea of getting someone to transcribe a conversation between her and a classmate, but decided that Professor Vrel wouldn't appreciate that. “Crap, I am so screwed!”

 

And suddenly she wasn't alone anymore.

 

The man walking up the path was tall (somewhere around six feet) and lean. He was pale, with black hair and seemed to be wearing a charcoal colored suit and a red trench coat. And sunglasses. Seras couldn't even begin to guess as to why a man would wear sunglasses at night, especially in the green district where there was no lighting at all. The gravel crunched under his booted feet as Seras continued to stare at him; she didn't mean to stare, she just couldn't seem to take her eyes away. As he drew closer she tried guess his general age, and found to her astonishment that she couldn't. There was something about his angular features that defied time, twenties seemed too young, thirties seemed too old; his face was simply ageless. Overall, he was imposing; the man was over twenty feet away and yet she still felt mildly threatened by his presence.

 

Seras was a quiet sort of girl; she never took risks, or went on adventures. She lived her life through books. That wasn't necessarily the way she liked things, but that was just the sort of person she was. As a result she often felt that she was somewhat socially awkward.

 

Which was exactly why she didn't say a word to the newcomer as he drew closer to her bench. She let out a relieved breath when he drew level with her and still showed no signs of slowing his ground-eating stride. Her relief was short lived however, when he stopped just a few feet past her lonely vigil. He slowly turned his head to look at her, and Seras idly wondered what color his eyes would have to be to appear red from behind his oddly tinted glasses. `Probably mahogany…' He seemed to study her for a moment, but she couldn't really tell since his expression never changed and it was hard to see his eyes from behind that glass.

 

“It's a bit late for young girls to out reading,” his voice was rich, dark, and firm; satin and crushed velvet over steel.

 

Seras bristled; okay, so maybe she couldn't place his age, but he couldn't be that much older than her! “I'm not reading, I'm trying to write,” she snapped, faintly annoyed.

 

“Oh? What about?”

 

“It's really none of your business sir.” Seras began to panic when he turned around fully. If this man had seemed intimidating from twenty feet off, it was nothing compared to now. His six-foot frame towered over her sitting one; and was it just her, or did it seem darker right where he was standing than anywhere else in the park?

 

“There's no need to be so brusque, I'm merely curious,” he seemed to smirk, but Seras was suddenly having a hard time getting any sort of definite grasp on his features.

 

“Dracula. It's for my English class.” He wasn't doing anything but talking to her, he wasn't even standing all that close, but she still felt uneasy. Discreetly, she started to gather her stuff together.

 

A wind picked up from absolutely nowhere. “How very droll,” the dark voice replied. And only the voice.

 

Seras blinked.

 

He was gone! He had utterly and completely vanished, and yet somehow she had heard him speak as if he had still been standing there. She scanned the surrounding trees, and then eyed her coffee suspiciously. Here she was, just trying to get a decent grade in school, and her body had the audacity to create a caffeine-induced hallucination on her!

 

Still…

 

Seras grabbed her belongings, threw away her coffee, and headed back in towards the city, intent on finding another place to write.

 

…Just incase the caffeine hallucination decided to come back to the park.

 

Twenty minutes later and Seras was still looking for somewhere to settle down. She was starting to wish she hadn't left the silence of the countryside to go to school. `Maybe Eddie and Juno have moved their party to somewhere else by now,' but she knew better. No matter how loud it got, no matter how much the neighbors complained, the parties were never over until after 2am. `10pm; I've got at least four hours until my apartment is silent.' The streets were crowded for a Wednesday night but then, what else could one expect from London?

 

She knew she was probably being paranoid, but every couple of blocks she felt as though she were being followed. However when Seras looked around there was never anyone who looked overly suspicious near her. At one point she thought she saw a flash of red clothing ahead of her, but when she moved to get a better look her foot caught on the uneven pavement. By the time she righted herself and looked back up the only person wearing red was some poor kid dressed as a lobster mascot.

 

Seras crossed her arms and pulled her jacket tighter against herself. The mysterious wind had not stopped since she left the park, and only seemed to be getting colder. Unconsciously she gripped her book bag tighter, and decided to stop at the first café or library that she came across. Preferably somewhere crowded where intimidating, possibly not caffeine induced, hallucinations could not approach her.

 

What she found was Rimkus Corner, an underground poetry café with a sign that boasted it to be open from 12pm to 6am. Seras descended the stairs and took a good look around. Rimkus was large and pentagonal, with a small stage near the back. The walls were an interesting combination of maple paneling and dark colored silks; the floor was littered with little wooden tables, bookshelves, and a few booths; the air was blessedly free of the clouds of smoke that she had expected; and the lights were dim, trying to lend an air of mystery which Seras thought was somewhat childish and bloody irresponsible of anyone who wanted to read for an extended period of time. All in all it was a nice place.

 

There was only one problem. Including her and the guy sleeping behind the service counter there was a grand total of five people in the entire establishment. Still, it was the perfect place to write and (Seras could still vaguely feel the wind blowing down the stairwell) it was warm.

 

Feeling that the chances of the exchange in the park having been real, or that if it had been real, her chances of that man being interested in finding her again, were slim she decided to stay. She hesitated for a moment then headed over to the counter to wake the boy up and get something to drink before going over to one of the cozy looking booths. `Hopefully here I'll be able to concentrate and, with any luck, finish this paper so that I won't have to worry about it for the rest of the week.' Seras quietly set up her computer while listening to the couple in the corner argue heatedly about Lovelace and Byron.

 

Two hours later she had succeeded in doing nothing but annoy the guy working for waking him up just a few too many times. `I maintain it's not my fault that he's sleeping on the job,' Seras thought sourly when she noticed him glaring at her from behind his counter again.

 

“Looks like you haven't gotten all that far into your writing since the last time that we crossed paths.”

 

A shadow fell across Seras' computer screen. Slowly she raised her head up, her fears confirmed when she saw Mr. Creepy from the park sitting on the other side of her booth. “When did you get here? Are you following me?” she demanded, extremely bothered by the notion that someone could be stalking her.

 

“I arrived here just before you did, so the question begs to be asked: are you following me?” there was definitely a smirk in his tone.

 

Seras slapped herself mentally; how could she count there being five people in the café and not notice that he had been one of them, for two hours?

 

A/N: Alright, so that's a bit longer than the last one. Hopefully a little more interesting as well. Things should start picking up here now that Seras has bumped into Alucard. Tell me what you think! Review, or email me at royalstratt@aim.com.