AUTHRO’S NOTE: I don’t own Hellsing, or Petshop of Horrors. I just really like both. This story was originally the idea of my fiancé, but I think I did it justice. R&R plz!

Ch. 1 The Meeting

Her?

No, of course I do not question you. Your intuition is far above mine, and as far as the future goes, he who has lived longest is often best at its prediction. Your life is longer than my entire bloodline. I trust your judgment.

Yes, I do see the spirit in her eyes. But all humans have spirit. It is easily turned noble, or evil, or light, or dark. But I reckon that you would prefer the darkness.

Do you believe in fate? Or perhaps that does not matter? No, I suppose when one has as much experience as you, fate does not matter. The bonds of destiny will work themselves out.

You have that much faith in her? I understand. It will be arranged. I will arrange it. The master and the servant will be united as one. But beware, my friend, of the choices you make. Humans are not like you and I, no matter how strong they appear to be.

I see.

Very well.

Thy will be done, Vlad the Impaler.

break-

There are few places on earth quite as dreary as the secluded allies of London on a stormy day.

Cursing himself for forgetting to bring an umbrella, or even a good cloak, the elderly gentleman removed his jacket and used it to shield his ward, a thin, blond child of little more than twelve, from the rain. Shivering in the cold, she muttered a quiet “thank you” and pulled it tight around herself, eyes downcast as they had been during the entire outing. He had hoped that she would brighten up from been outside, at least slightly, but soon realized that even had the weather not turned ugly, his efforts would have been wasted.

Tightening his black ponytail behind him to keep the hair from blocking his vision, the man took the girl’s hand in his gloved one.

“Come, let’s get out of this rain,” he said, frowning slightly.

The girl gazed up at him, watery blue eyes quivering behind large, round spectacles. “Can we go home?”

“We won’t make it when the rain starts,” he told her gently. “Let’s find some place to wait it out.”

Her eyes dropped again and he sighed. Gripping her hand tightly, he pulled the girl across the street, giving his best attempt to keep her from been splashed by the passing cars. Thunder rolled over them like a thousand-horse carriage.

A roll of small shops stood in the gray shadows, looking desolate and lost, their colors washed away by time and hardships. Normally they would have stood open to welcome whatever customer there was, but been Sunday evening, most of them were closed. After several long minutes of searching and getting increasingly wet in the process, the only place that had yet to close was a small pastry shop, and that was where they settled.

Once inside, the girl found herself a wall to lean against and silently watched the rain through the shop’s glass doors. The shop was poorly kept, with peeling walls and flickering lights, but at least it was clean and neat. The warm scent of fresh bread wafted through the air. The man took a deep breath, savoring it gratefully, but his companion paid no notice to it.

Only one other customer was in the shop, a woman in a long-sleeved Asian style gown that bore a meticulously stitched yellow dragon. Standing at the counter, she was tall and slim, with straight jet-black hair that hung the entire length of her face, ending just below her chin. At her side laid a black silk umbrella. Noticing their presence, she half-turned and favored them the most charming smile.

He found himself smiling back. She was very pretty.

Like her clothing, she was Asian, and somewhat out of place in this part of London. It wasn’t so much her ethnicity, but her conduct. Every movement she made was perfectly graceful, from her manicured nails to her elegant stance.

It was almost… mesmerizing.

He watched her make her selections while his ward watched the rain beat down against the window.

“Three cream tarts please,” she said to the man behind the counter, her voice had a strange weight to it, soothing but hard to read.

“Sure thing, Count,” the man said cheerily. “How’s everything at the shop?”

Count?

She sighed. “Oh, it’s the same. Magdaria had her second litter. The poor little dears are running me ragged.”

The man took her money and made the change. “I donno how you do it, D. Without help and all. Lord knows this place keeps me busy enough.”

“The animals help themselves, Hendrik. Better than people can often manage.”

And with that, she picked up her umbrella and glided across the room as if walking on water, the pastries dangling in a bag from two slender fingers. The man behind the counter turned his attention to the other customers.

“Excuse me, sir? Miss? We’re closing.”

Well isn’t that just the luck? He thought in frustration, eyeing the rain again. “Can we just wait out the rain?”

Hendrik hesitated, but shook his head. “Sorry, sir. The shop needs to be closed by a certain hour on Sundays. Don’t want trouble with the Church.”

Rubbing his eyes, the man strained his brain to think of a place, any place, that would be willing to risk the wrath of the Church as this hour. Suddenly, he realized someone was watching. The pretty woman had stopped in front of them, and was stooping to the level of his ward.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said, once again in that unreadable voice. “What’s your name?”

Sensing the girl’s hesitation, he nudged her shoulder gently.

“Integra,” she said, barely audible, then added, “sir.

He opened his mouth to correct her. And froze. Again studying the woman’s features, he suddenly realized his mistake—the weight in her voice, the subtleties of her features.

A man!

And if the man had noticed his shock, he pretended not to. “That’s a pretty name,” he said. “Do you like animals, Integra?”

Intergra nodded, keeping both eyes on the stranger.

“Well, my pet shop if right around the corner. If it’s alright with your dad, maybe you’d both like to come have a cup of tea with me while the rain lets up. I have lots of animals you can play with.”

“Oh, uh…”

“I’m not her father,” the man cut in. “I’m just the butler, taking the little miss out for a walk.” He offered his hand. “Walter.”

The other smiled and bowed politely. “Forgive me if I do not shake hands. It’s nothing personal.”

Walter withdrew his hand. “Of course,” he replied, matching the smile. “But I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“I am Count D.” He handed the bag of pastries to Integra and opened the umbrella over her head as they stepped outside. “Come, I do believe you will like my shop.”

break-

Whatever Walter had expected, the pet shop was not it.

Despite looking like every other slightly-rundown corner store on the outside, the interior was enormous, and covered with lavish decorations that he could not possibly imagine a man running a pet shop getting his hands on.

The sweet scent of incense greeted them at the door. Every wall was covered with silk, elegant draperies hung from the ceiling, and luxurious carpets lined the floor. All the colors were astoundingly vibrant yet soothing at the same time. Sturdy, exotic furniture that would have looked out of place anywhere else in this part of the city stood erect and proud.

But what caught his attention most were the animals.

They were everywhere. With the exception of a few birds (actually, he wasn’t even certain that some of them were birds), animals of every shape, color, and species roamed freely. Dogs and cats of every breed plus a few strolled about casually, or curled up and slept in groups alongside enormous lizards and oddly colored creatures that he assumed were ferrets. A monkey was helping itself from a bowl of fruit with human-like delicacy, and occasionally offered pieces to two turtles that rested in a glass tank beside it.

Feeling that he was been watched, Walter cast his gaze at a dark corner beneath an oak dining table, where a creature with the pointy snout of a fox and nine tails too many emerged slowly into the light. He could have sworn it winked at him before dashing off.

At least half of the creatures he could not name as they strutted across his path, carrying with them an air of pride and dignity, as if he was merely a passerby on their territory. A few reptiles approached him and cast suspicious glares before Count D. gestured for them to move on. They obeyed him completely, although it was impossible to comprehend one hand training so many animals, and so well.

That was when he also realized that none of the animals were fighting, or even giving off any sign that they were annoyed at having to share space with members of species. In spite of their presence, the shop was as serene and peaceful as they came.

The man who called himself Count D led them to a large, heavily cushioned couch and, with the smile that never seemed to leave his face, instructed them to sit while he prepared tea. Integra, overwhelmed by been near so many animals, brightened up considerably. She ate a cream tart and drank two cups of tea and went about petting each animal, particularly the ones that likely did not exist outside of this strange shop.

Walter, having leaned against a long, slippery cushion when first settling down on the couch, was slightly less at ease after discovering it to be a gigantic python. But he accepted the warm cup D offered him and felt his spirits raise as he watched Integra play.

Count D, after setting a plate of various sweets on the table before them, sat down on the couch across from him.

“Is my shop to your liking, sir?”

“Please call me Walter.” Stirring his tea, Walter once again admired the beauty of the shop. “Your shop is beautiful. Though I could not possibly have guessed such a place existed in this part of London.”

“Call it the hidden mysteries of China Town.”

Walter frowned slightly. “China Town? I was not aware that there was a China Town in this area.”

“It’s very small, really,” Count D replied. “To be perfectly honest, I think it only contains this shop and maybe three or five others around the corner. But it’s just fine that way. We are able to maintain a certain degree of privacy and mystique.”

“The animals…” Walter raised the cup to his lips and sipped, then nearly dropped it as he began to cough.

D watched, as if amused. “My apologies,” he said after Walter finally recomposed himself. “I often forget that my taste in tea is a bit… extreme.”

“Good Lord…” Walter gasped, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “How much sugar is in this?”

“It may be better that you do not know,” D said with a good-natured grin and nudged the plate of cakes and sweets toward him. “Here, try these.”

Still wondering whether the coat of sugar now inside his mouth was sinking into permanence, Walter waved them away politely. He cast another glance at Integra, who was now standing, hands linked behind her back, rocking dreamily to the songs of a bright blue canary.

“As I was saying. These are amazing animals. Half of these I’ve never even heard of before, let alone seen.”

“If you have not seen them before,” D said serenely, “it is only because they choose not to be seen.”

It occurred to him briefly that such a comment was odd, but somehow, he felt too much at ease at the moment to pursue it. Instead, he said, “they’re also very well trained.”

“Trained?” the other laughed softly. “None of these animals are trained, Walter.”

Blinking, Walter thought this over, but before he could make anything of it, D had shifted his attention to his ward.

“Integra.” The girl turned to Count D. “Do you like the animals?”

Thin pink lips curled and Walter gaped. It had been quite a long time since Miss Integra smiled like that.

“I do,” she said. “They’re very pretty.”

With one delicate hand the Count pointed to a door that stood slightly ajar in the back of the shop. Walter had not noticed it before. It was well-hidden in the forest of silk and tapestry.

“If you want, you can go down that hall. There are even more animals there.”

A silver of mischievousness seeped into his voice. “Maybe you can even find one to your liking.”

Eyes sparkling, Integra turned to Walter, eagerness written all over her face. Eyeing the dark corridor, his first instinct was to talk her out of it, but there was something that held him back. Be it the comforting atmosphere or the sugar was finally getting to him, he found himself nodding an approval to her.

“Thank you,” she said brightly. “I won’t be long.” With that, she dashed down the hall, and soon disappeared into the darkness.

“She’s special, isn’t she?”

Walter started a bit at the question. Count D was looking straight at him now, and something about the man’s demeanor had changed. “She sure is.”

“Not only as a person, I’m sure. Few little girls warrant this kind of protection.”

“Protection?”

“You, Walter.” The Count sipped his tea casually, black eyes never wavering. “What are those made of? Fine steel? Gold? No, gold wouldn’t be strong enough.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Those wires in your sleeve, my dear ‘butler’.” D set down his cup. “It’s been a long time since I saw those, not to mention anyone who could use them.

Instinct told him to be alarmed, but Walter found that he could not obey it.

Sitting there, facing the strange oriental man in this mist of incense, he began to laugh. It felt almost satisfying.

“You got me,” he said though chuckles. “I’m impressed. I haven’t met anyone else who could spot me so fast.”

D handed him another cup of tea. He couldn’t recall seeing it being poured, but took it anyway. Less sugar this time. Not bad.

“I trust you’ve heard of the Hellsing family?”

D nodded. “Of course. Though they tend to keep a certain amount of anonymity, word does get around.”

Walter nodded toward the door in the back of the shop. “That is Integra Wingates Hellsing, the only daughter of the Master of the Hellsing estate, and the only heir.”

“Such a big responsibility for such a small girl.”

“She’s actually a tough kid, that Integra.” Feeling more relaxed by the minute, Walter poured himself some more tea. “I watched her grow up. Trust me, there’s no one else more up for it than she.”

Count D was watching him, and smiling.

“But she worries me sometimes though,” Walter went on. “Hasn’t smiled much since her father took ill. The poor man’s on his death bed, got his brother taking care of things for him.”

“The girl’s uncle?”

“Scum of the earth,” Walter muttered bitterly, drinking more tea. The room was very warm, and the rain outside pounded the windows rhythmically, like a gentle lullaby. He looked up, and there, standing right behind Count D, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Golden Egyptian robes hugged her luscious curves and the swells of perfectly formed breasts. Her skin was like a mixture of chocolate and honey, smooth and deliciously dark.

“You were saying, Walter?” D’s voice sounded very distant as the woman leaned over the back of D’s couch and batted her misty brown eyes. One of her smooth, dark curls fell in front of her face, dangling temptingly. D, however, was looking at him, completely unaware of the woman’s presence, or merely choosing to ignore it.

Tearing his eyes away, Walter found himself at a loss for words. Searching quickly, he said the first thing that came to mind. “So, uh, Count, that’s a French title.”

The woman was staring at him fixatedly. Then, slowly, seductively, she crawled over the back of the sofa, and settled at D’s feet, resting her head on his lap, but never shifting her intense gaze. He wondered briefly whether he should feel like a dirty old man.

“Yes, it is.”

“Then, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you come about it? You’re obviously not French.”

“Quite right.”

The woman left D’s side and crawled, on all fours, toward Walter, batting her gorgeous eyes all the while. Delicate hands landed on his leg, feeling them. She rubbed her cheek against his thigh and he felt the strangest sensation of comfort as the world began to swirl before his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was the sweet smell of incense and Count D saying, “in fact, I’m from a secluded region in China…”

break-

Integra wandered the long, quiet halls of the pet shop. Doors of every shape and size lined the walls on either side of her. Sometimes she would see a door where there was none before, and other times she would spot a door out of the corner of her eye, only to discover she was mistaken. The entire place was clean and immaculately decorated, but somehow gave the same feeling as a Hall of Mirrors.

How could one small shop house so many doors?

Several times she pushed open a door at random. Count D was right—each one contained exotic creatures, each rarer than the one before. At one point she opened to adjacent doors and found them both leading outside, but one led to a seaside while the other a steamy jungle. A young man and woman were swimming close to shore and waved at her. When they turned and disappeared under the waves she was certain she saw two large tail fins.

So many strange things.

But so intriguing was the world inside the pet shop.

Suddenly very excited, as if drawn by an invisible force, Integra picked up her pace and ran down the corridor, testing whichever door that caught her eye. A few of them wouldn’t open, no matter how hard she pushed or kicked, so she left those alone after a while, running along quickly, past a hole in the wall.

She stopped in her track, blinked, and doubled back.

It definitely wasn’t a hole, but it was black like one. As she studied, it began to quiver slightly, like thick smoke trapped in a bottle. Its edges seemed to undulate as if alive and waiting to be opened, this strange door.

She put her hand on it and immediately jerked it back. The door had swallowed it. But upon closer inspection she saw that it was not the case.

The door was covered in shadow, or what shadow would be if it ever took on a physical form. Tendrils of blackness drifted away as she batted at it, revealing a double-reinforced steel surface. It looked heavy.

Most little girls would leave alone a door like that. It looked like the place where all the monsters under your bed came from.

Suddenly wanting to make sure no one was looking, Integra’s eyes darted about. Then, satisfied that she was alone, she stepped forward and gave the door a great push with both hands.

break-

Count D took Walter’s cup from his hand and set it down on the table.

Carefully, he placed a soft pillow under the man’s head. Walter stirred slightly, but was already too far lost in his slumber. D arranged his guest’s arms to make sure he was comfortable. He also picked up the jacket the girl had left on the couch and draped it over him.

“Keep our guest company, Neferti,” he said to the large gray cat, a rare breed of Egyptian Mao. It purred happily and kneaded Walter’s pants before curling up on his stomach. “I will be back in a few minutes.”

The cat yawned as her master disappeared into the hidden back door.

break-

Instead of opening to one side as a normal door would, the shadow-encrusted black door slide away at her touch, sinking into the room and disappearing in the darkness. No sign of light could be seen inside. It was as if someone had painted the heavy air with tar. A metallic smell filled her nostrils as Integra took a cautious step inside. The door had disappeared, a fact that would have unnerved her had she given it more thought. Instead, she allowed herself to be engulfed by the eerie darkness.

The only audible sound was the cloth of her knee-length skirt brushing against her legs as she moved. Her first thought was that an animal must live here. Logically, it would be nocturnal. But where was it?

Surveying the room, the heir of Hellsing swallowed thickly and tapped her left foot. Stone. The entire room was paved with cold, smooth stone, and from what she could see of the walls, they were no different. Every inch of the room was enclosed like a tomb, not allowing a single thread of light to seep through. Even the light in the hall seemed to stop abruptly at the entrance.

The room wasn’t exceptionally large. Squinting hard, she thought she could see the opposite wall not far ahead. Cautiously, she placed both hands against the wall nearest to the door, reassured by its solidity, and began to walk along it, feeling her way. Oddly enough, the thought that something frightening might leap out in her path never occurred to her.

Halfway across the room, something hard made contact with her knee. Running one hand over it, she felt a smooth surface. Polished wood, perhaps. Keeping one hand on the wall, she felt along its edge and found that she could not reach its end. Suddenly overcome with curiosity, the rest of her body fell to the ground, to the level of this strange apparition, and began to explore it, measuring it.

It was about a foot high. Maybe seven feet long, or a little more. Hard to tell just from feeling. Carved patterns were arranged in several lines on one end of the lid. Perhaps words.

Lid?

With a gasp, Integra pulled back from the silent black coffin that seemed to grow larger in her eyes by the second.

A body… was there a body inside?

Slowly, inch by inch, she raised her eyes. And there, suspended in the never-ending shadows, two pinpoints of light hung above the coffin. Instinct told her to run but her body had completely lost all will as the two spots of light quivered slightly in the air. No, it wasn’t quivering. They blinked.

A pair of blood-red eyes loomed over her and the metallic smell was getting stronger. Integra coughed but kept her own gaze centered on the eyes. They rose, and she could make out faintly, the outline of a silhouette.

A human?

“Integra.”

She blinked. The eyes were gone.

“Integra?”

Soft yellow light flooded the room. She spun around. Though only having been in the room for a few minutes, the brightness of the candle in Count D’s hand already felt foreign. Berating herself silently for been caught in this state, Integra got to her feet quickly and brushed off her skirt as Count D approached her.

“It seems you’ve found a friend,” he said.

Something wet touched her hand, causing her to jump and nearly crash into Count D, who watched with gentle amusement on his face.

Standing behind her was the largest dog she had ever seen. Matted jet-black hair covered its entire body, right down to its enormous paws that were easily the size of the hooves of a pony. Pointy black ears turned in every direction, searching eagerly for any new source of sound as it blinked large red eyes at Integra. As she stood half in shock, it nudged her hand again with its nose, an offer of friendliness.

“Would you like to pet him?”

Surprising even herself, she nodded. As if having a will of its own, her hand raised and ran its fingers through the dog’s hair. It had very strong haunches, the kind that could easily tear apart a deer or perhaps even a small bull without a second thought. Sitting there in front of her, they were almost the same height. In fact, compared to it, Integra was little more than a mouthful.

As she petted it, it opened its mouth and panted happily. She saw that it had at least three rows of teeth, each sharper than the next.

She looked into its eyes and thought it was smiling at her.

“Do you like him, Integra?” Count D’s hand was on her shoulder. Though he did not apply any pressure, she felt as if he held her in place, facing the dog. His voice was intoxicating. The dog was returning her gaze. She could not look away.

“His name is Alucard,” she heard the Count whisper in her ear.

“Alucard…”

“Would you like to take him home with you?”

She kept on petting the dog. They were waiting for her. At least that was how it felt. She didn’t answer. There were no words to be found.

“Your father is ill, isn’t he?”

She nodded.

“He can’t protect you forever. There are things happening that he doesn’t know about it.” Everywhere. His voice was coming from everywhere. “Isn’t that right?”

She nodded again, her hand tangled in the dog’s fur.

“Alucard will protect you.”

“He will?”

“Yes, he will. Alucard is very special. He can be your best friend, or your worst enemy. But he wants to be your friend, Integra. He will always protect you.”

TBC…