Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Stray Dog ❯ Thrown to the lions ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Hellsing and all of its characters belong to Kohta Hirano, not to me. I am not making any money off of this piece of fanfiction.

 

Author's notes: This fic takes place after the end of the first Hellsing anime (ie. NOT the manga and NOT Hellsing Ultimate) so I'll be trying to stay in line with that. Also, Anderson talks with a Scottish accent, but I've tried not to go overboard in portraying that. Please enjoy this first chapter of Stray Dog!

 

 

Chapter 1: Thrown to the lions

 

 

The room was dark, only the faintest hint of light creeping in through the night time windows. Why are there nae lights on? Anderson wondered uneasily, staring forward at the shadowed figures, seated calmly behind the huge conference table. He wiped the moisture from his brow with one gloved hand; he was sweating, even though it was chilly in the room. He was very nervous.

 

The summons had come without warning, barely hours after his body had finished healing itself of all life threatening injuries. He still limped slightly, the result of some shrapnel still embedded in his leg from one of the many explosions that had rocked the Tower of London. He hadn't yet had a chance to dig it out and let it heal properly.

 

“Paladin Alexander Anderson,” a voice he recognized, but couldn't place. “You are hereby dismissed from Section XIII.” Blunt, and to the point. Unusual for them.

 

The lanky priest blinked once, shocked, standing stock still. So that's why the lights were off…they didn't want him to recognize them. If he couldn't see their faces, he wouldn't know who to take revenge against. “But…why?” he finally stammered, the surprise still sinking in. Wha's going on? “I've…I've dedicated my life tae this organization! I've given ye everything, and ye toss me away? Ye canna do this!” He stepped forward, toward the shadowed council, shaking with shock and rage.

 

“We can, and we are.” Anderson stopped short as he saw the hand come up, effectively commanding him to bite down on the words yearning to escape his mouth. “Please don't make a fuss over this. We would rather that things not get…messy.”

 

“At least…at least give me a reason!” He was unable to control the shaking in his clenched fists, the anger in his voice. He had to know why they would toss him aside so easily!

 

“You served us well Anderson. Your involvement in this incident was most unfortunate.” The hands folded themselves on the tabletop. Somewhere on the left side, someone shifted and coughed nervously. “We realize you had good intentions, but we cannot allow such a scandal to enter the public eye. All over the world, the church is crumbling. Will you be the one to send us tumbling down?” The voice was so calm, so condescending, as if explaining to a child why he had been punished; the same voice he so often used with his orphans. “It's very much a shame you had to get involved.”

 

Anderson's eyes widened in shock. A scapegoat! He was a fucking sacrificial lamb! “So ye'll send me to the slaughter, and let that filth become a martyr to the Catholic Church!” he yelled, “I was doing His work, as I am sworn to do! I was sent ta do battle with the Heathens, and I did so! And now ye'll punish me for it? Ye canna do this! I am a servant o' God!” He roared at them, reaching into his coat with one hand. He grasped the hilt of a holy blade, resisting, with all his might, the urge to throw it.

 

“Yes, Father Anderson, you are a servant of God. But you are no longer a servant of Section XIII.” A snarl from the priest, and the man in the center slumped forward, bayonet buried to the hilt in his brain.

 

“Dinna think that just because I canna see ye, I canna kill ye.” The room was silent as the Mad Paladin turned away, disappearing in a whirlwind of bible pages before he reached the door.

 

The man on the left coughed again and shifted to his seat, his heart pacing much faster than the steady drip…drip…drip of blood and cerebrospinal fluid, from the head of the man in the middle.

 

“…Do you think…” someone said, after a moment of strained silence, “Do you think that was perhaps a poor idea?”

 

“Anderson was a loose canon. He was beginning to disobey orders, to strike out on his own.” A strong voice. The voice of someone who knew better than to sit front and center. “We could not have someone like that within our organization. Besides, someone had to take the fall, and we really can`t afford to have another scandal of this nature hit the streets. Now that people are beginning to doubt Hellsing's involvement in the Tower attack, they're going to start digging deeper. Anderson's presence there could lead them to us, so it's really for the best.”

 

“Yes…but…do you think he meant what he said about revenge?” Another chimed in. “Is it wise to leave him alive?”

 

“No,” a pained sigh, and more uneasy shuffling, “but we haven't the resources to try and kill him.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Master,” Integra's eyes raised slowly, watching as her servant materialized out of the shadows, “I have learned a most interesting bit of news.” He grinned, silently watching her. She stared back, expectantly.

 

“Well, were you planning on telling me, or do I have to guess?” She asked dryly, after a moment of silence. Damn the vampire she thought, fumbling with her manacles as she attempted to light a cigar, him and his games.

 

“It seems as though the Vatican Dog has become a stray.” The smile spread wider, slowly engulfing his features until it seemed as if his face would crack in half. “The Mad Paladin has been dismissed.”

 

“What? What are they thinking?” Integra muttered to herself, inhaling deeply on her cigar, having finally accomplished her task.

 

“It seems we were not the only ones taken in by Iscariot's trickery. Our Scottish friend is also a victim of foul play.”

 

“But with nothing to control him…my God, imagine the destruction he could cause! He must be fuming!” She marvelled, half amused, half horrified, wondering at what thought could have possibly led the members of Section XIII to make such a foolish decision.

 

“Perhaps that is the point, my Master.” Alucard sat down across from her, in a swirl of crimson overcoat. “It seems they needed someone upon which to pin the blame. I had assumed that was you, but it seems they needed to toss one of their own to the lions as well, though I am unsure of the details.”

 

“You mean, you think they sent him to the Tower, with the purpose of getting rid of him?” Her mind pounced on this new bit of information, gobbling it up with a ravenous hunger.

 

“Perhaps we can turn this situation to our advantage, Master…”

 

“Alucard,” an understanding grin spread across Integra's face, cracking her normally stoic features, “just what are you suggesting?” He chuckled, and she frowned, contemplatively. “But who? It has to be someone who can handle him, but who he won't want to stab on sight.”

 

“Well that leaves me out…and Walter is still in the hospital…”

 

“You don't mean… But, he'll slash her to ribbons!”

 

“Perhaps, yet perhaps not. The Police Girl has grown stronger, maybe strong enough to take on the Judas Priest. And though she's a vampire, he hasn't made an honest attempt at killing her yet.”

 

“I suppose a blessed blade through the throat doesn't count?” A most unladylike snort from Sir Hellsing. “Hmm…I don't think I like it, but I suppose she's our only choice.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Ugh, what am I doing here again?” Seras Victoria tapped one foot impatiently, waiting for her luggage to appear on the carousel, like she had been doing for the past forty-seven minutes. “Babysitting a deadly madman, that's what I'm doing!” she growled, snatching up her duffel bag as it finally appeared. “About time,” she told it, and began to search for an exit to the outside world. “Babysitting a madman in a country where I barely speak the language! A madman who'll sooner stab me in the throat than look at me!”

 

* * * * *

 

“You think she'll be alright, Alucard?” Integra asked, puffing away. She hated to admit it, but she had grown somewhat fond of the girl, and was a little worried at the prospect of sending the petite vampire alone into the lion's den.

 

“Of course, Master. She was my fledgeling, after all.” They'd agreed that it was best to send her alone. Alucard was far too volatile to be trusted in the same country as the priest, and human backup proved virtually useless against the Mad Paladin's attacks. Sending in backup would be sending her few remaining soldiers to certain doom.

 

“Good.” She tapped her cigar into the ashtray that never left her side. “Wait just one minute,” her head snapped up and she stared the vampire in the eye. “What do you mean was?”

 

“Oh, did I not mention it?” Alucard's ever present grin widened to maniacal proportions. What a delightful game, it all was! “The Police Girl is her own master now. She drank of me at the tower, when she thought me dead.”

 

“Oh God, help us all…” the young Hellsing moaned. “I've sent a rogue vampire after a rogue Priest…”

 

“Well,” Alucard chuckled, fading away into his shadows once more. “When in Rome, I suppose. As for me, I grow hungry.”

 

* * * * *

 

“Father Anderson, Father Anderson!” The priest smiled as the children swarmed his car. He stepped out, his tall, lanky form towering over the young orphans, who clambered all over each other, each trying to get his attention. The older ones held back, too cool to express the glee welling up in their bellies, at the return of the beloved Father.

 

“Daddy Anderson!” A tiny voice squealed with delight from within the crowd. Alexander gave a whooping laugh as he swung the little girl into his arms, a great smile on his lips.

 

“Rosa,” he said, tugging gently on one pigtail, “ye've grown so big so quickly! Why, soon, ye'll be taller'n me, lass!” She giggled, squirming in his arms as he bent to put her down.

 

“It's not daddy, you dummy. It's Father,” a boy's voice chided, as soon as her little feet touched the ground.

 

“Och, Iain, be nice now,” he ruffled the boy's unruly red hair. “Ye'll ne'er get into Heaven bein' nasty ta yer wee sister then, will ye?” A mumbled apology, from the boy, and Alexander smiled, pleased. “And who's this bonny wee lassie?” He asked brightly, seeing a new face in the crowd.

 

“Isabelle, Father.” A nun spoke, placing one weathered hand on the girl's auburn head. “We found her wandering through the streets not yet a week ago.”

 

“Well hullo there, Isabelle.” The tall priest crouched down to her level, extending a hand in greeting. “I'm Father Anderson. It's verra nice tae meet ye.” She didn't say anything in response, but merely cowered behind the nun's voluminous habit.

 

“She hasn't said a word since coming, Father, except to say her name once. Doesn't play much with the other children either.” Alexander grunted, a deep, throaty noise of understanding. Many, if not most of the children to pass through the orphanage's walls were troubled in some way or another. The cure was simply a matter of helping them find solace in God.

 

“Well, we'll just give her a bit o time then, aye?” He smiled down at the girl again, before turning to greet the rest of the young marauders tugging at his pant legs.

 

***

 

Much later that night found Anderson in his old room, sitting on the creaky old bed with its sagging mattress, hands clasped, deep in thought. Iscariot had betrayed him, used him up and thrown him out in the cold. “What tae expect,” he asked himself, “from Section XIII? From Judas?” He sighed, lanky frame slumping with the expulsion of air, and closed his emerald eyes, trying to shut out the world.

 

When he opened them again, he saw the room as it had been for the last several years; crowded and cramped, with books and papers littering every surface. He was an avid reader, devouring the religious doctrine and history of the world as if he were starved for it. Heavy Latin tomes lined his bookcase, with its bowed oak shelves, and still more were stacked on the small writing table beside his bed. In a large storage bench were the secret books, the ones he didn't want the nuns or the children to find. Books about demons and vampires, ghouls and the occult; things he needed to know in order to serve God to his fullest potential.

 

But, he was no longer a member of Section XIII, no longer a papal demon slayer, so what was he to do? The children still needed him; he would remain with them, but was it enough? He could not deny the part of himself that wished to cleanse the world of monsters, to make it safe for those small, sweet children he so cherished.

 

“I am still a servant o' God.” He spoke quietly to himself, with a firm voice. “I will continue tae serve God, and may the organization of Judas rot.”

 

* * * * *

 

Seras shivered in the cold, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind blasted past her. Forty feet below was the deadly priest, settling a small matter with two bloodthirsty vampires. From her vantage point above, she could not tell if they were true undead, or just a pair of man-made freaks. “Well, not like it matters anyway, as long as they're losing.” She cringed, watching as Anderson rammed a blessed blade through the eye socket of one night walker. Its shrieks of pain were short lived, as another blade sliced neatly through its neck, courtesy of one angry Catholic. The head bounced to the ground, rolling a meter or so, before it crumbled into dust.

 

“Wha…What the hell are you?” the other screamed, backing away as the Paladin pulled another bayonet from the recesses of his coat.

 

“I am the divine weapon o' God, her tae carry out His work on Earth. I am he who punishes the wicked sinners.” He took a step forward, grim smile spreading across his features. “I am he who will send your soul tae Hell.”

 

Seras blinked, and when she opened her eyes, all she saw was a cloud of dust, drifting on the wind, up and out of the blood spattered alley. Must have been freaks, she thought, rubbing a hand over her throat, remembering the feel of cold silver, her own personal memory of the priest below. No true vampire would succumb so easily. At least not one with any pride.

 

 

 

 

 

Well, there's the first chapter. I hope you liked it! Please consider leaving a review, to let me know what you thought!