AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is it. Sorry this one's rather short.

PART 4

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination playing tricks, but the dungeon suddenly grew cold. Integra scooted back against the wall as Alucard straightened and approached her. His eyes glowed like burning coal, and all the light in the dungeons seemed to have drained away, into those blazing eyes. A few steps closer, and he dropped to his knees, eyes still fixated on her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hearing the fear in her voice. Terror found her once more, and she suddenly realized how foolish she was to believe she would be safe alone with a vampire.

He smirked. "Playing," he purred, as he crawled toward her on hands and knees. His body was changing, melting away, shifting like smoke as he moved.

For a brief moment all she could see were his eyes. Then she blinked, and they changed from red to blue. She was looking into a mirror. A sneering double of herself looked back.

"Wh-what…"

"What's wrong, master?" the copy of herself asked. Its voice was even an echo of her own. "I thought you weren't afraid of me."

She shivered and pressed her back against the wall. The copy crawled a bit closer, its blond locks touching her knees. "Why…"

"I wanted to see," said the copy, reaching out and sliding a strand of Integra's hair through her fingers, "what it's like to be you. It's interesting. Though I cannot mimic the heat of your body, I feel like I can understand a little about your heart in this form."

Integra shook her hair out of the double's grasp. "Stop it."

The reflection of her face melted away like a ball of wax in high heat. It was the most unnerving sight to behold. The long strands of blond were replaced by black. A moment later her carbon copy had morphed into a completely different person, a young girl no older than herself, with streams of black hair spilling over her shoulders. Integra saw with an uneasy twinge that she was nude.

"Your heart is pounding," said the girl, drawing her knees up in front of her, black hair covering her bare front. "Is it your nerves? Your heart? Or your loins that's making it pound? The fickleness of human hearts make it pound often."

Something had changed. Just a moment ago the vampire was speaking to her like a human, carrying on an unassuming conversation. Now it was in front of her, toying with her. She felt like a dormouse in front of a cat.

The girl leaned in close, her bare skin separated from hers only by the thin fabric of Integra's clothing. "Did your father ever tell you you're pretty, master?" she cooed, and pecked Integra's cheek with her cold lips. "This is the form I took for both Walter and Arthur. They told me I was pretty, too."

How easy it was for it to rattle her, treat her like a toy. One moment she felt completely secure and safe, the next she was chilled to the very core of her being.

"Why aren't you saying anything, Integra?"

The vampire caressed her face with cold fingers.

"I thought you liked me. I saw you watching while I was washing."

Her face burned despite the vampire's frosty fingertips.

"Unfortunately," the vampire said as she sat back cross-legged on the floor. The cold didn't seem to bother it one bit. "Not all my forms are so pleasing to the eye."

Something moved to her right. She turned just in time to see something long and many-legged crawl into the shadows. Then another to her left. And another. With a shriek she sprung to her feet as a swarm of black centipedes ran past. She tried to stomp on them but more and more appeared.

The dark-haired girl was laughing. The centipedes were crawling all over her. No, they were coming from her. Integra watched with a hint of nausea as another fat centipede emerged from underneath her dark locks.

"This is part of my form, too," said the vampire, completely undisturbed by the crawling creatures. "They are a part of me. They carry my life's blood." With two nimble fingers she picked up a wiggling centipede. "Here. They won't bite."

Integra wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and run from the house, away from its stifling walls and the creature it housed. The vampire dropped the centipede into the swarm on the floor and grinned at her. Its face was eerily, sickeningly, pretty.

Its eyes were laughing. They were laughing at her. She could almost hear it.

"Stop it." It sounded so stupid, so weak. Any moment now those creepy crawlies would overcome her, bury her, and eat her alive. "Stop it right now."

The centipedes disappeared. It took her a moment to notice they were gone. As quickly as they'd come, they vanished into thin air. Light returned to the room, lighting the walls and floors dimly, just enough for her to see that they were indeed nowhere to be seen. The vampire stood.

"As you wish, master," it said, and bowed.

Integra rubbed her face and smacked her hands against her cheeks, trying to clear her head. The vampire waited for her to finish.

"Change back," she said, and added for good measure, "I'll go get some clothes for you."

"No need, master," replied the vampire as its form broke into smoke. A few seconds later he stood in front of her, once again a man, instead of the monster from a moment ago. It amazed her how he could shift from one to the other so quickly.

He had dressed himself in a dark suit, topped by a Victorian style coat, red as his eyes. Around his neck he wore an ascot. The whole getup reminded her of the European gentlemen she saw in old movies.

They stood in silence, facing each other. Realizing her fists were clenched, Integra put a considerable amount of effort into loosening them.

"Why did you do that?"

Alucard smiled. It was almost kind. "To show you just how ugly I am."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, "to master a vampire, you must not become bewitched by one. Vampires are enchanters, I'm sure you know that. A low vampire only knows to attack. A higher vampire knows how to lure in its prey with charm."

He ran a hand through his hair and Integra couldn't help but notice how dashing he was. It was as if he exuded allure and a strange magnetism.

"This isn't about vanity or conceit," he continued. "I am well-aware of how many beautiful faces I can put on. The reason I became used to this particular form, master, is because it once brought in the most prey. It is only because I see potential in you that I tell you this – always remember the monster that hides behind the pretty faces."

She couldn't tell whether he was talking down to her or not, but color was creeping back onto her face. The color of shame this time, at letting herself get carried away by his looks.

He was right, and that unnerved her.

"I saw you watching me." She averted his gaze. "I know that look. Don't become drawn to me. It's like a moth to a flame, and as the master, you cannot be the moth. You should by now begin to understand, just how much power you have over me. Although I must say." He chuckled. "You faired better than your father did under that little test."

"My father?"

"A good, capable man much too weak to the desires of the flesh. I had to bring out that dark side many times for him to understand just how veil-thin my beauty was. But when you're older…" Alucard spread his hands casually, "and have a better grasp of yourself, I would be happy to put on whatever pretty face you like, and do whatever it is you order."

"Stop that."

Reaching up, Integra pushed her glasses upward on her nose. Fear had melted away into annoyance.

"You can stop implying all of that," she told him. "I know what you're saying, and if you really think I'd allow myself to do… that with you, then you're wrong. I have more important things to worry about. More over, there is something I find more repulsive than your dark forms, and that is your personality."

Alucard arched a brow and said nothing.

"Stop playing with me," she continued. "Stop toying with me, acting like a friend one minute and a monster the next. It's not helping me trust you, and with every word you say I can't help but doubt what it is you really want – to help me or to hurt me. I…I…"

She ran out of words. There was nothing else to say. She had thought she would storm out of the dungeons, or burst into tears, or at least something. But when the words disappeared she was still standing there, dry-eyed and waiting.

"I'm so tired," she said half to her herself after a long moment. "It's been a really bad couple of days."

"You should return to bed, master. Only condemned creatures like me prowl the night."

Integra sat down on the stone steps. "Would you stop calling yourself that?" she said, drawing her knees up to her chin. "It's really irritating me. Besides, you're not the only condemned one here, you know."

There was a pause. Then, to her surprise, he came to her and sat down a respectable distance away from her.

"I killed my uncle. Now I have to pick up on father's legacy all by myself. There has never been a female leader of Hellsing, not to the mention the Convention of Twelve. They're going to put me on a stand and lynch me."

"Possibly." At least he was honest. "But you are wrong about one thing – there had once been a female leader of Hellsing, before it was made of walls and weapons and soldiers, when it was just a small group set out to hunt down the most powerful vampire in the world armed with nothing but sticks, pistols, and folklores. It was a woman who led their way."

"You're talking about Mina Harker. But that was different."

"It was. She was the first. Now, as the second, you will surpass her."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you're giving yourself up to be condemned."

Arms and chin on her up-bent knee, Integra felt silent once more. She debated going upstairs and back to bed, but couldn't seem to find the will to. The house above was empty. At least here, she wasn't alone. Even if it was with this arrogant, irritatingly mysterious vampire. He didn't question what she wanted to do, merely sat there next to her, and waited.

"Who are you really?"

"Whoever you want me to be."

"Who did you used to be? Way back?"

"A king, a count, a murderer."

"Count Dracula?"

"Yes."

She smiled thinly. "I knew it."

oOo

She woke up in the dungeon for the second time. But there was no stone underneath her. Instead, there was silk. Integra sat up and felt something heavy and soft slide away from her torso. It was red.

"I thought you might be more comfortable there."

It didn't take long to spot his glowing eyes in the darkness. She pushed his coat off of her body. The fact that it was a manifested part of him only bothered her a little.

"Thanks," she muttered. "What should I do now?"

"Are you asking me?"

She met his eyes firmly. "So what if I am? Can you give me answers, Count?"

"I forsook that title long ago. But I do have an answer for you if you want it." He was still sitting on the step. Had he not moved her during the night, she would've thought he sat there unmoving all night. Without his coat, he wore a black suit that fitted his long form like a second skin. For a "condemned creature", he had very good taste.

"Just tell me."

"You should go. Get out of this damp dungeon and go do something in the light. Hiding in the dark is what turned me and many others into what we are now, and you don't want that. You've already spent too much time here."

She began to climb out of the coffin awkwardly. "What about you?"

"Did I already tell you that my fate is up to you?" He seemed neither saddened nor remorseful at the idea.

"Do you want to leave here?"

The question seemed to take him by surprise. "That is not up to me."

"But I'm asking you," she said stubbornly. "Do you want to go out?"

"It would be nice," he replied, "to be out in the fresh air again, even if I no longer breathe. I haven't seen the moon in over twenty years."

"Then come."

She stepped past him without a pause and headed out of the dungeons. At the door, she stopped to look down. He had stood, but seemed to be hesitating.

"I am ordering you, as your master, for you to leave the dungeon," she said, "on the condition that you obey me without question or reservation."

"You have decided you can trust me?"

"I have decided I can begin to try."

The vampire stood at attention and bowed deeply. A faint red light appeared all around him, forming a complex pattern on the ground. When it faded, the same pattern appeared on his gloves. "In that case, master," he said, "the contract of servitude has been formed. I am at your service – body, mind, and soul."

END