Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ What Immortal Hand ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

What Immortal Hand

Prologue

She sat at the open window looking over the city. How beautiful it all was. The lovely and tempting Paris laying herself at one's feet to enjoy as they will. At least that's how it looked at first glance; the shimmering lights attracting the world to their glow. But Paris as she knew it was cold and harsh. The expensive yet fake beauty of the prostitutes, the hollow beauty of alleyways, this was the beauty she had seen of Paris. This was what she lived in. Yet she would rather surround herself with the dregs of Parisian society than be upheld by the betraying hands of the upper class. She didn't want to be among the light, she was content just to observe it from the shadows.

Yes, she loved to be among the creatures of the night. Loved to converse with the forgotten children and forsaken souls. Yes, she collected life stories in the liberating darkness that came with the setting of the sun. She loved humanity, even more so now that she herself was no longer human. At least not by her own definition. To be human meant to be mortal, but death could never touch her now. Not since she first died all those ages ago.

She sighed as she gazed out upon the lavish cityscape, the breeze lapping at her auburn tresses. It was a shame that she would have to leave this all at once gaudy and awe inspiring place so soon. And after it being her home for so many years. But no, the Dark Man was coming for her; either to cage her or slay her, and she didn't much care for either choice. Best go with the Red Knight, a future with him seems to be much more entertaining.

Besides, I've never been to London, strangely enough.

***

He walked the dark halls of the cathedral, his heavy black boots falling noisily on the marble floors. The sound echoed thoroughly onward, heralding his arrival, but he didn't care. He had nothing to hide, so why sneak around?

He turned briskly left, turning into a large archway that led outside. His footfalls became muted once his feet hit the moist grass of the inner garden. The cool early evening air crashed into him, a hint of the cooler weather to come on its breath. The summer was coming to a close and it felt glorious. Yet more proof that the one true God was in control of everything and His Divine Plan was at work. He breathed in, feeling the coolness of his surroundings invade his lungs and chill him from the inside out. He chuckled slightly at the sensation. Oddly enough it felt good.

As his eyes began to adjust to the shadows of the moonlit garden, he could faintly make out a rather ornate fountain standing in the middle of a courtyard. No more than three feet to the left of it he saw a tall figure shrouded in darkness. His lip curled and he began to walk towards this new figure. His boots began to make noise once again as they fell upon solid patio stones.

"Father Anderson," a high, nasal voice sounded through the night air. "You're early."

Anderson was now standing beside the shadowy man and was looking at him. He was staring at the rising moon, it's luminescence shining down upon his face. "Is that so wrong, Your Grace?" he answered, and he turned to look at the moon as well.

The two men just stood there together for countless moments of silence. The garden moved with life, all the miraculous nocturnal creatures of Nature that God had created, moving according to His design. Magnificent.

"Father Anderson, my superiors have brought to my attention that you have been having some trouble in England." Alexander stiffened slightly at the mention of the Protestant nation. He unknowingly began to think of that Hellsing woman and her pet monster. But he quickly purged himself of such prideful thoughts. "But your endeavors involving the undead and inadvertently, the Hellsing Organization, will have to be put on hold for the time being."

"Your Grace?" Alexander turned in surprise to the Cardinal, his superior in the Iscariot Organization. Without even so much as letting his eyes move from their spot on the lunar surface, the Cardinal continued.

"We have been told of another anomaly. Another freak of nature. Apparently, the Catholic Church has been collecting information on this being for centuries, and feels that now is the time to capture it."

"Is it a vampire of some sort, Your Grace?" Alexander asked of the man beside him, who still would not look at him.

"No, not according to our records." The Cardinal responded placidly, face emotionless.

"Than what sort of ungodly creature is it?" he demanded, disgusted that more unholy creatures were running freely around God's lands.

"An Immortal."

***

"Here is your tea, Sir Hellsing." Strong yet aged hands set the silver serving tray upon the wooden desktop and began to arrange the contents in front of the only other person in the exorbitantly large office.

"Thank you, Walter." Came the tired reply.

As Walter poured the cream into the fine china cup, an equally tired and weary sigh slipped from his mistress's lips. Walter stood to the side of the large desk as Sir Hellsing took a sip from the cup set before her. But instead of his usual line of `Will that be all?', he ventured onto more personal territory.

"Is there something bothering you, Sir Hellsing?"

Sir Integra Hellsing turned her head sharply to glare at her butler of sorts, but soon she found she hadn't the energy left. It had been a tiring week, and it was all catching up to her now. She was beginning to wonder if she had the strength required to be the head of the Hellsing household and Organization. Dealing with politicians, lawmen, the undead and Alucard on a daily basis was all becoming too much of a stress on her. She set her teacup carefully on its saucer and leaned her head onto her hands.

"Yes, actually. I'm tired of all of this responsibility. At times like this I loathe this cross that God has bestowed upon me. I know that it is mine alone to bear, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else, but still I feel overwhelmed." She sighed again, this time more heavily, as if to release all of the tension her small body was withholding.

Walter stood by his mistress's side, overwhelmed himself at the information laid before him; that such a strong and noble woman such as Integra would vent her insecurities to him was both an honor and a burden in itself. For several moments he didn't know what to say, and he began to fear that the Lady Hellsing would regain her austere exterior and order him away, walling herself up again, but then words finally came to him.

"It is not yours alone to bear, Integra. We are here to help you if you so wish to share the burden."

Integra looked at the man she had known for most of her life. Both as a servant and a comrade of sorts, though nothing as intimate as genuine friendship had been uttered between them in all those long years. And now, for the first time in a long while, he had surprised her. Then suddenly, the concerned and readily comforting face that he had shown changed. He stood straight again, just as a proper servant should.

"Will that be all for tonight, Sir Hellsing?" he queried.

She turned her head, gazing into her cup of cooling tea and blinked, as if that single act could bring her back to reality. A reality where she was the master and all others servants. Where she was alone and left as such to make decisions no normal human could.

"Yes, that will be all, Walter."

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A/N: There, how was that? It just sorta popped into my head and demanded to be written, so I did. I've got lots of ideas for this, so if you guys liked it, please be kind enough to review and let me know. Otherwise I'll have to just leave it alone to die. Please, would you let an infant story die without giving it a chance at a real literary life? (hehehe) But seriously folks, please review and let me know what you think. This story has some real potential to grab at your heartstrings, so tell me: Yea or Nay?

~ Tabitha, The Mad Hatter