Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Transylvanian Concubine ❯ Sweet Dreams ( Chapter 4 )

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

“Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree?”

Eurythmics (Sweet Dreams)

Sweet Dreams

“Talking”

`Thinking'

Flashback/ Memories

Stressed

Ferdinand Luke's Orphanage

It had been three days since the death of her father. The orphanage had tried to contact what remaining family she had left. Her mother died in childbirth, her grandpa when she was six, her grandmother only two years ago. Her father had not been catholic, but he did work with the orphanage. Sitting in the hall on a brown wooden chair she looked through the glass window. She could see the extremely tall man standing and walking towards the door. The two cops left the room but not before the captain came over to her. The captain and her father were old high school friends.

“Ceres,” the captain whispered as he kneeled and placed a hand on her knee. She still stared past him and at the window. The captain sighed and shook his head as he stood up to leave.

“Captain McGee,” Ceres acknowledged in a faint whisper. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw him smiling. She scowled at him wondering why he had the chance to be happy.

“We couldn't contact your family,” McGee began.

“That's because they're all dead!” Ceres yelled in anger.

“Your half sister couldn't be found either,” the captain softly informed.

`Angela,' Ceres thought.

“She went missing months ago,” the captain sadly notified.

“Where was she last?” Ceres asked even though she could feel nothing.

“She was last seen in Romania.”

`Mother's first child from her first marriage,' Ceres thought making no attempt to talk.

“I'm going to have you leave you here with a nice man,” McGee stated as he wiped a tear from her face. “He'll be good to ya' and when you grow up…you can come join the force.”

“Yes…sir,” Ceres spoke with little emotion.

Her gaze traveled to the floor as McGee stood up. She could hear their footsteps echo against the wooden floor. Wiping her eyes quickly she sat up straight and waited for her fate like a true soldier. A few minutes later a single pair of heavy footsteps came back from the direction. She looked over out of curiosity and her eyes widened in shock. The man was taller then her father, she would guess that she only came to his waist. Quickly becoming intimidated by the taller man she looked away.

“Come lass, don't be like that,” he spoke softly.

Still weary she looked over and up at him. His blonde hair had tints of brown and his green eyes were soft like an ocean color. He did wear glasses. His hair was kept short and messy along with a bit of chin hair, just a few stubbles. He tilted his head and looked down at her with a soft smile. He held out his hand and she stared at it for a few moments. Hesitantly, Ceres set her smaller hand on top of his palm and she marveled at the size difference. He gently pulled her to her feet and led her through the long hallway. They came to bedroom with a bunch of bunk beds in the room. She frowned at the room and tugged at his sleeve.

“Mr…” she trailed off not knowing his name.

“Father Anderson,” he gently answered.

“Father Anderson…I can't share a room,” Ceres softly whispered. He kneeled to one knew and still had to stare a bit down at her.

“Why is that Ms. Victoria?” He inquired, humored by her seriousness. She looked around nervously and went real close to his ear.

“I might have an accident,” she whispered. He smiled trying to hide his laughter that threatened to come out.

“Just use the restroom before bed,” he offered. She frowned at him and shook her head in slight anger. She removed her black rubber gloves and showed him her palm.

“I can use the bathroom, but I can't control my gift,” she stressed in worry. He looked at her palm and ran his thumb over the lightening bolt. He jerked his hand back when he felt a slight shock. His eyes widened as she stared at him and quickly pulled her glove back on.

“What be this?” He asked in mild confusion.

“I shouldn't have shown you!” Ceres cried as she turned around and ran away from him.

“Ceres!” He called to her as he began to chase after her.

She ran back down the long hallway and almost made it to the door. She slipped and went sliding until she bumped her head against the chair she previously sat in. Sitting up she rubbed her head and stood up again. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked behind her. The priest was only a few feet away from her. Deciding not to run she turned and face him keeping her gaze at the floor. He sighed and opened his office door. She walked in and sat on the chair that faced his desk. He took a seat across from her and sighed again.

“Would you like to explain those markings?” He asked.

“Do you promise not to tell anyone?” Ceres seriously asked.

“On the bible,” he assured her.

“My dad said it was a curse and my grandmother said it was gift, but father didn't agree,” Ceres began. “I've had it since a baby, it killed my mother in birth.”

“What did?” Anderson asked.

“I would wake up with holes in ceiling and sometimes floor too, then one day a fire started on the floor,” Ceres softly spoke, “Grandpa died in the fire and only grandma and I got out. Father was away.”

“I don't understand,” Anderson said in confusion.

“The lightening always comes for me,” Ceres vaguely said.

`Is she the type of person that attracts lightening?' Anderson briefly wondered.

“It comes from my body and now through my hands,” Ceres stated as she took the gloves off and show him both tattoos.

“What are the marks for?” He softly asked.

“They make sure the lightening only comes from my hands and the gloves stop it,” Ceres explained as she handed him the glove. He felt the texture and found it was a thicker rubber material.

“If the gloves stop the lightening…then why can't you share a room?” Anderson asked.

“Because…I still have accidents. Just because it doesn't come from me doesn't mean it stops coming for me,” Ceres stressed.

“This is a big story, if you believe…”

“No! It's true…you'll see,” Ceres desperately shouted.

“I'll give you your own room…but if nothing happens then you'll move in with the others,” Anderson bargained.

Eight Years Later

Ceres smiled as she entered the apartment. She could see the front room was small and there was a tiny kitchen. Walking further into the building, she found a small hall way with a door to the left and then a door to the right. Opening the left door, she found it to be her bathroom. Not bothering with the right door, she figured it was a bedroom. She ran back into the living room when she heard the footsteps. Smiling as she watched the man slightly duck under the entrance to the apartment, he set the box down on the kitchen counter.

“Isn't it lovely?” Ceres asked as she walked over and stared at the streets below her.

“Too small for me,” the man commented as he walked over and stood beside her.

Ceres smiled up at Father Anderson as she watched him look out the windows. She came up to his chest, maybe a little less then that. She turned and went back to the hallway and brought another box in. She was finally eighteen and able to be on her own. She had a job working with the police force and was able to support herself. Father Anderson took the boxes as she brought them in and placed them on the counter. An hour later, she had her own bed in her room and assembled thanks to her favorite priest. He was currently opening another box and he pulled aside the flaps and looked inside expecting kitchenware. Blushing her pushed the box into Ceres open arms and walked into the kitchen.

“Wha...” she began until she looked down and blushed in embarrassment. Wanting to curl up and die in embarrassment, she put the box in her room. She closed the door and sighed in relief. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she couldn't believe Father Anderson saw her undergarments.

“Where are the pots and pans?” He called out.

“In the box labeled Kitchen stuff!” She dryly called out.

“Haha, very funny,” he mumbled as he found the items in the box labeled kitchen stuff.

Most of the items were unpacked and she had a useable phone line. Running a hand through his short hair, he smirked at the tiny apartment. Ceres brought out a cup of tea and he happily took it. It had been eight years of living with the church and being watched over by Father Anderson. With two days of having her own room, she blew a hole in the ceiling. He had been shocked and the event but filed it and had her moved to another room. A group known as Section 13 came and looked over Ceres against her will and Anderson's protest. They were going to take her into the Vatican City for further analysis.

Anderson had convinced them that children need a nurturing environment in order to grow to true potential. They grudgingly allowed her to stay under Anderson's care. Within those eight years, she began to look up to him as her own father. She stopped calling him Anderson and stuck to calling him father. He had protested once, but he allowed her to continue. They had both been able to study her powers and watched them react. They had found that anger brought it out along with fear. He had helped her find a calm within god's grace that controlled her power.

She didn't believe life could be rough. Ceres had found all she needed; she had her family and best friend within the priest. The police force became a second family to her and they lovingly called her `kitty.' Life was good and nothing could go wrong. Looking out the window, she watched the light fade away into darkness

Author's Note: