Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Transylvanian Concubine ❯ Of Myths and Legends ( Chapter 3 )

“Sorrow is their master
Cackling with laughter
now he's having just one piece of…”

Raputina (Transylvanian Concubine)

 

 

 

 

Of Myths and Legends

 

 

 

 

“Talking”

 

`Thinking'

 

Flashbacks

 

Stressed

 

 

 

 

 

Her clothes were covered in dust and some various type of mold. The basement had seemed dry, yet there was mold on her. The gray mold didn't match her scarlet sweater. Sighing she entered the tent and did her best to smile. The smile made her appear as a child that had rolled around in the mud or basement cobwebs. Part of that could be noted as true. Turning her attention to Integral, she decided not to sit and ruin the nice seat. Integral's raised eyebrow spoke words to Ceres as she ran a hand through her hair.

 

“I have encountered the vampire,” Ceres answered.

 

“Tilt your head to your left and right side,” Integral ordered. Ceres sighed and did as she was told. Integral seemed to be looking for any bite marks.

 

“The first encounter was a success,” Ceres stated despite her appearance.

 

“Did you learn anything about the target?” Integral asked.

 

`Besides the fact he wears a red trench and seems to turn into goo and shadows?' Ceres asked herself but chose to answer differently.

 

“He goes by the name Alucard,” Ceres answered.

 

“Is that all you learned?” Integral doubtingly inquired.

 

“He can leave the castle for brief moments when he goes into the shadow realms,” Ceres decided to satisfy her boss's curiosity.

 

“Is that all you learned?” Integral questioned as she stared at Ceres.

 

“I need a bigger gun,” Ceres decided to state.

 

`What aren't you telling me?' Integral asked within her own mind.

 

“Very well…talk to Walter,” Integral dismissed.

 

“Thank you Sir Integral,” Ceres dutifully said and left.

 

She walked into another tent and found Walter polishing what looked like a mini tank cannon. He looked up and smiled at her before he placed it out the table in front of her. She looked at the mini cannon and frowned. Walter then placed a box of ammo next to the cannon.

 

“Meet your new best friend,” Walter introduced as he motioned to the cannon.

 

“I can't lift that,” she exclaimed in mild amusement.

 

“This is the anti-freak cannon,” Walter began to explain. “It's a single bullet that is silver tipped and dipped in holy water.”

 

Ceres stared at the bullet in disbelief it was the size of a can. She shook her head and smirked.

 

“I can't lift that,” she repeated.

 

“Nothing to fear Ms. Victoria, it is made of a lightweight metal,” he assured with his own smile.

 

He held the weapon out to her and she hesitated. Reaching her hands out she took the weapon and braced her self in case it tipped her. Her eyes widened in shock as she lifted it with slight ease. The thing weighed as much as a case of pop. She held it against her shoulder and balanced it out. She then set it back down on the table. She picked up the ammo and noted that the ammo was heavier than it appeared.

 

“Not bad,” she commented as she gazed at it.

 

“Designed it myself,” he commented.

 

“Thank you Walter,” she honestly said.

 

“When I saw that shadow swallow you I knew you'd need a bigger gun,” Walter confided.

 

“I knew I saw you and Sir Integral,” Ceres said.

 

“Did Sir Integral inform you of the Vatican?” Walter asked as he watched her reaction.

 

Ceres went silent and her form rigid, “No.”

 

“Then it's not my place to say,” Walter sighed as he went back to cleaning a gun.

 

“Not my place,” Ceres repeated as if in a memory. She then left the tent and walked back to the castle.

 

She traveled upstairs to the bathroom and sighed, there was no running water. She noticed a bucket and picked it up. Walking back down to the kitchen, she found a faucet that gave only cold water. Another sigh escaped her as she walked over to the stove and started a fire. When the bucket was filled, she placed it over the old fashioned stove. She slightly smirked when she saw a cauldron sitting there. Shrugging her shoulders she picked it up and filled that with water. She then replaced the bucket with the cauldron. She plugged the tub up and poured the hot water in. Walking back downstairs, she repeated the process three buckets later and four cauldron fills with it.

 

Ceres then gathered another outfit and a towel. She opened her towel on her bed and filled it with her shampoo and soap. Gathering her outfit in one arm and her supplies in the other, she walked to the bathroom. Placing her outfit on the counter and her towel on the side of the tub, she undressed. Stepping in the hot water, she hissed at the warmth. Easing herself in she smiled and relaxed. She didn't need any candles lit; there was enough sunlight in the halls. She lowered herself in the water and left her nose and eyes above the water. Her blue eyes reflected in the water surface and she left her face neutral.

 

`Not my place,' she repeated in her mind as she closed her eyes.

 

 

 

 

The seven-year-old ran through her village with a red flower clutched in her palm. Her happy smile lit up the dreadful village as she ran to her grandmother's house. She came upon the stone house with the two windows and wooden door. She didn't bother to knock as she rushed inside the house. Her grandmother was standing over the stove mixing something within her pot. Ceres ran over and tugged at her grandmother's gray dress as she smiled at her. Hazel eyes with lines of age met youthful blue ones. Ceres held the red flower forward and the old woman frowned.

 

“Ceres,” she whispered in slight worry, “Where did you find this?”

 

“I found the flower in the woods south of here,” Ceres replied.

 

“Give it here,” the old woman softly ordered.

 

“What's wrong?” Ceres asked.

 

Ceres went unanswered as her grandmother took a blood red petal and mixed into her pot. Her forehead wrinkled in concentration as she mixed repeatedly. The grandmother pulled out a bowl and poured a spoonful into the bowl. Ceres frowned when she noticed that the liquid was black. Her grandmother picked up a needle and then walked to table. She pulled out two chairs and motioned to Ceres to sit. Ceres sat down and watched as her grandmother dripped the needle in the black liquid. She then took hold of Ceres palm and stuck the needle in. Ceres whimpered and pulled her hand away.

 

“It is for your own good,” her grandmother said.

 

“Yes Grandmother Hellsing,” Ceres whispered as she held her palm out.

 

“I am no longer Hellsing, I am a Victoria ever since I married you grandpa,” her grandmother softly spoke.

 

“Why did he leave?” Ceres innocently asked.

 

“He needed to search for that monster,” her grandmother answered.

 

“Did he leave because of my father?” Ceres whispered.

 

“No…he had other responsibilities,” the grandmother assured.

 

“What was wrong with my flower?” Ceres asked as she looked at it and noticed the missing petal.

 

“Do you know what type of flower that is?” Her grandmother asked as she continued with the needle.

 

“A red one,” Ceres ignorantly answered.

 

“It is a Blood flower,” her grandmother excitedly answered.

 

“Blood flower?” Ceres repeated in thought.

 

“They say the Blood flower only grows around the Southern castle because of all the blood that was spilled,” her grandmother informed.

 

“Gross,” Ceres cried as she remembered that it was part of the black ink.

 

“They say the flower has special abilities,” her grandmother quickly said as she wrapped the first palm. She then took the second palm.

 

“Abilities?” Ceres asked in excitement. “Like mine?”

 

“This may help you control yours,” her grandmother said.

 

“While I was in the village a villager said I was from evil blood,” Ceres calmly said as she swung her feet. Her grandmother briefly paused before shaking her head.

 

“You are…we are,” her grandmother informed.

 

“So…am I evil?” Ceres asked as she stared at her wrapped palm.

 

“No…you can choose to be evil like you can choose to be good,” her grandmother stated.

 

“Who was evil then?” Ceres innocently demanded.

 

“My four times or more great grandmother,” she answered.

 

“You mean…”

 

“It is not good to speak her name,” her grandmother explained.

 

“Is that why your mother's mother changed her last name?” Ceres asked.

 

“Yes, Bathory was a feared name, that is why we became the Walkers and then the Victorias,” her grandmother said as she began to wrap the last palm.

 

“This symbol will seal your powers so they won't run wild,” the old woman sighed.

 

“Thank you,” Ceres said as she walked over to the kitchen counter.

 

She noticed her grandmother was cleaning up so she ran over to the open book. She saw a poem on the first page and began to read.

 

Blood of my blood,

 

Can raise me

 

Flesh of flesh,

 

Can bind me

 

Soul of my Soul.

 

Can set me free.

 

Innocence taken by fate,

 

A cruel hand opens the eyes

 

Flesh bounds me to this existence,

 

Blood bathes me

 

An act of God that can be turned.

 

The Judas walks the earth,

 

The blade cuts my skin

 

The paper binds my world,

 

The darkness is again

 

Hallow kisses set me free,

 

I walk again in misery

 

A forked road in my view,

 

Which road shall be chosen?

 

The book slammed shut as her grandmother scowled at the young Ceres. She ran a hand over the smooth black leather and frowned. Before she walked away, she whispered something.

 

“Which road do you chose?”

 

 

 

 

Author's Note:

Can anybody guess Cere's bloodline?