[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author's Notes: Thanks guys, I didn't expect to get reviews this soon, what with y'all holding
out on me lately and all. J/K anyway, on with Ch. 16!
Yawning loudly despite his best efforts, Malakai slowly ascended the basement stairs.
Victoria was still asleep, but he knew that Alucard would be waiting. He opened the door and
then closed it behind him as he stepped into the hall which was filled with bright morning
sunlight. Alucard was sitting on the right side staircase, head bowed and dark hair shielding his
eyes from the light. Malakai knew his friend was tired. This was stressful for Alucard after five
hundred years with very little change. Alucard glanced up at the sound of the door shutting.
"Sleep well?" Malakai asked.
Alucard shrugged. That was answer enough. Alucard rarely voiced his thoughts, much
less complained about being tired. Malakai was used to it. He walked up the stairs and sat a step
below Alucard, leaning back against the stair behind him.
"Victoria is sleeping, then?" Malakai inquired.
"Yes," Alucard replied offhandedly.
Silence drifted between them before Malakai reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack
of cigarettes. He didn't bother offering one to Alucard; he knew what the answer would be, and
instead he pulled one out and lit it, taking a long drag before leaning his head back and staring at
the stark white ceiling.
"Since when did you smoke?"
Malakai looked down to see Victoria at the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips.
"A while. Just not around you," he replied.
She shook her head, "It'll kill you, you know. You'll get lung cancer, and emphysema,
and all kinds of other nasty diseases."
Malakai laughed. He could almost picture Alucard's grin from behind him.
"Oh, I don't think so."
"You don't, huh? Well, don't blame me if . . ."
"Relax, Police Girl. He's not going to keel over any time in the near future, I promise
you," Alucard said.
"Yeah. `Cause I don't plan on dying any time soon," Malakai added, "Still got lots of
things I have been wanting to do, and lots of places I have been wanting to see."
Victoria rolled her eyes. Malakai took another drag on the cigarette and then stood up,
passing Alucard on the stairs and going to the kitchen. Hungry, but at the same time not, he
searched for something that looked good. Hmm. Victoria entered the kitchen and looked nearly
surprised to see him there. He finally got tired of searching through the cupboards and opened
the fridge. Other than leftovers from dinner there was only . . . brownies. Perfect. He pulled out
the plate and then, without a word, left the kitchen. Cold, or hot, brownies were good. He
thought briefly about offering one to Sir Hellsing, but then decided against it. She didn't like
him very much, human or not. He came to a stop in the middle of the hall, not really focusing on
his surroundings as he became lost in thought. It was the fifth day since they had been
summoned to Sir Hellsing's office, and still no change in Victoria. He wondered just how
accurate those results were. He ached to change back; ached to feel that power, that intoxicating
feeling of invincibility, no matter how evil it was. It was all he had really ever known. The years

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of his life spent as a human seemed insignificant and far away. He had lived longer than any
man had a right to, and he had seen and felt so much, and yet it was still not enough to stop the
hunger. He wanted more, and he knew that it was waiting for him somewhere, but he had looked
for so long, and still he had found nothing. There was an aching feeling growing inside him, a
feeling he was accustomed to, but it intensified with each passing day, and he didn't know why.
And here he was, in the company of his lifelong friend Alucard, and a beautiful young woman
who he admired, and yet it did nothing to ease the pain, the anxious impatient feeling that was
eating away at him. He knew that no human ever felt this way; their lives were so brief and they
knew so little, with all that they desired at their fingertips if only they would reach out for it, and
all the comforts that the world could provide.
Shaking his head, he jerked himself out of his thoughts, which he knew made sense to no
one but him. He silently changed directions and walked into the cold, loud rooms used for target
practice by the soldiers. No one seemed to notice him as he entered and perched himself atop a
table behind the few soldiers that occupied the room at this hour. The sound of gunshots
reverberated off the white walls, ringing in his unprotected ears. He watched them take aim and
pull the trigger, repeating this process until they needed to reload, studying each face with
disinterest as he munched on his breakfast. But one face seemed to stand out. Dark brown hair
and fog grey eyes, standing at about 6'3", the man seemed out of place here because of his
incredibly young age. He could be no more than 20 years old, whereas most of the soldiers here
were in their late twenties to early thirties, and possibly older. The man seemed to notice
Malakai looking at him, and waved before turning back to face his target and firing. It was an
inch off what the man had intended, but it was very close, much closer than some of the hits the
other soldiers were making. The soldier switched on the safety and set the gun on the table
beside him before making his way back to where Malakai sat.
"Hello," Malakai said.
"Hello," the man replied.
Malakai waited for the soldier to speak again, biting off another piece of a brownie. He
did not really know or care why the young man had approached him, but he was slightly curious
as to who this man was.
"Ummm, what are you doing in here?" the soldier asked.
"Watching. Eating breakfast."
"Well, ummm, why were you looking at me?"
"Dunno."
"Oh . . ."
The young man was nervous, Malakai knew, but he could not figure out why.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Malakai asked him.
"Uh, no . . . oh, my name's Isaac, by the way. I'm Sir Hellsing's cousin."
Aaaaah. A member of the Hellsing family. Interesting. And Integral's cousin, no less.
"Well then. A Hellsing. My name's Malakai," he responded, taking another bite of his
breakfast.
"Uh, h-hello. So . . . you're just sitting in here?"
"Yes."
"I see . . ."
He was obviously uncomfortable. This delighted Malakai to no end. Perhaps this would
turn out interesting enough to tell Alucard about. Although meeting Sir Hellsing's cousin was

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interesting enough. Malakai continued acting bored and uninterested as Isaac fidgeted. The
Hellsing finally couldn't stand any more and returned to his former position, picking his gun up,
undoing the safety, and began firing. And missing every shot. Malakai could barely restrain his
laughter. The man was so nervous that he couldn't even focus on his target. However,
amusement at someone's nerves only went so far, and Malakai soon became bored for real. He
stood up and left, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he felt Isaac's stare following
him out the door. Hmmm . . . suddenly, visiting Sir Hellsing didn't seem like such a bad idea
after all . . . he took a turn down the next hallway and, without knocking, opened the door to
Integral's office. She looked up as he entered. Not expecting to see him there, but retaining her
perfect composure, her eyes followed him as he made his way across the space between them and
sat on the edge of the desk.
"So," he said, "I've had the . . . pleasure of meeting your cousin, Isaac. He's an
interesting young man."
"Is that so?" Integral replied, arching a cool eyebrow at him, "Well, he is very different
from my other relatives, especially the one's on my uncle's side. So I suppose he is interesting."
Humoring Malakai was not as difficult as she had thought it would be. With Alucard,
every word spoken was a power struggle, every gesture and movement a part of some weird
game. When Malakai had first entered the room, she had barely restrained herself from throwing
him out. But she had allowed him to come close, and she realized he had come in merely for the
sake of a conversation, one he was not likely to obtain anywhere else.
"Yes . . . he's terribly young, don't you think? Far too young to be here, of all places.
Don't you think it would be better to keep him here? Or perhaps you should send him home . . ."
"His family won't take him back."
"And why not?"
"He is here to . . . honor . . . the family. They sent him here to serve the Hellsing
Organization."
"To die."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"They think he's . . . impure."
"Why? He is their son, their brother. Why send him to his death at such a young age?"
"Your father disowned you. Is there a difference?"
"A great difference. I was not sent from my home alone, to die. My mother was with me.
And I was not quite his age. I was two."
"Ah, I suppose you're right. It's for a few reasons, actually. It's somewhat embarrassing
to discuss. Not that I'm ashamed of him, quite the opposite. It's just . . . not . . . polite, to
discuss such things."
"He's gay."
"Bisexual actually. His father found out. Horrible mess. They sent him here, as . . .
punishment."
"So he's to die for something he can't control."
"Yes," Integral sighed, "I have known him since we were children. I never knew. But
I'm to just let this happen, pretend I don't know, pretend I don't care."
"You can change it, if you want to."
"It's not that simple."

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"It's always that simple. They cannot tell you how to run your organization, your life.
But you don't seem to mind letting them."
He moved closer. The Hellsing did not react to the loss of distance between them. It
actually felt kind of nice, having someone close and telling you things that you have felt all
along, things that no one else seemed to know or understand.
"This organization . . . is your whole life . . . you'd die for it all, wouldn't you? But
feeling that way means taking charge of it, of your life. Not letting people who have never tasted
victory or defeat by it tell you how to live. Don't you tire of feeling trapped by the thing you love
the most?"
She closed her eyes and leaned back, nodding, "Yes."
"Then let it go. Stop letting them control you. Your mission is to kill the impure undead.
Not to let them tell you how. You know how. You are the one who wakes with nightmares in
the middle of the night, seeing the faces of the monsters that were once people, people with
hopes and dreams that were lost, seeing them every time you close your eyes, seeing them
reflected back at you when you look in the mirror. You are the one who lives knowing that you
are the same. That you had to give up all your hopes and dreams to become something dark and
lethal to all that you come across. And you know that the difference is your desire to protect the
people from the monsters who lurk in the darkness. You are the one who is blamed when things
go wrong. They couldn't comprehend any of these things, these feelings. So why are you trying
to let them do it for you?"
Integral didn't respond. The softness of his voice lulled her into a state of relaxation, and
her soul absorbed his words as she listened. She was helpless, unable to move, her breathing
slow and deep, but for once in her life, she truly trusted someone. Trusted him. She didn't care
what happened now; she just wanted to listen to his voice. She knew that if she listened long
enough, the words would become ingrained upon her soul, and she would finally be able to sleep
without the horrific nightmares that plagued her day and night. She would finally be free of guilt,
guilt for taking the lives of ones who had never had a choice, never stood a chance. That was
what she wanted. He continued speaking to her, although the words were different, and as he
spoke, his hand moved up to stroke her hair. No one had done that in a long time.
"I want you to take Isaac away from this," he murmured, "but it has to be your choice.
Do you really want him to die? Or worse, to become like you? You need to remove him from
this situation. It isn't fair, and it isn't right. He is family, no matter what the others say. Would
you reject him still?"
"No . . ." she could barely force the word out.
The hand that was stroking her hair moved down to touch her face.
"I cannot force you to help him. But he needs you. You say you grew up with him. So
don't abandon him. I know this may seem manipulative to you later on. And I'm sorry. But
remember what I've told you, and I promise, things will be different."
And then he planted a soft, closed-mouth kiss on her lips before she heard him get up and
leave the room. A part of her mind that had been subdued suddenly seemed to wake, and it noted
with a small amount of sarcastic amusement how serious this had become. It had started as a
casual conversation, and it had become . . . were there any words to describe what it had become?
Whatever it was, she liked it. She firmly suppressed the voice in her mind and, for the first time
in a long time, she fell asleep without dreaming.

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Malakai didn't know why he had had the urge to influence her. Yes, he liked the
Hellsing, occasionally, when she wasn't trying to manipulate him. But he had never taken an
interest in her before. Perhaps it was only because she was the quickest way to get Isaac off the
field and into a safe place, but he didn't think that was it. But the boy's current situation
reminded him of his own, although it had taken place so long ago. So maybe that was it. At any
rate, as long as the Hellsing did as she was told, life would become much easier for her, Isaac,
and everyone else.
* * * * * * * * * *
Several hours later, Integral awoke in her bed. She smiled, knowing it was Walter who
had put her there. A tray was set carefully on the night stand beside the bed, loaded with food.
Apparently someone believed she had taken ill. That was usually the only time that things like
this happened. Perhaps she was ill. She sat up, and felt a wave of dizziness overtake her before
her vision cleared again and she saw the note on the tray.
Good evening, Sir Hellsing.
Malakai

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