A/N: So, what went through his mind as he ripped them to shreds? Read on!


I remember that night so well. The sounds, the smells...

A crash, noise.

Blood.

There, there!

I had lost track of the years since I had been ordered in this dank room. My stomach began to roll as I smelled fresh blood nearby. It was young, but it hardly mattered.

I felt a presence at the door, and I recognized it as a Hellsing. She touched the door, and I showed her the images that surrounded my capture, though greatly distorted. I wanted her to fear me. She backed away, and the touch of her mind faded.

There, just there!

Could I be getting released from this Hell, this prison now? How long had it been? Months?

Years?

Decades?

Centuries?

I could not be sure. I was nearly mad with hunger. I sometimes fancied that I could talk with Mina, sometimes with Harker, though that man grated on my nerves. He had made a farce of my hospitality.

Some people just shouldn't be given a room when they come calling.

Voices, a gunshot, more voices.

Blood freed from the body.

I felt myself struggle to climb to my feet, to tear from the wall where I had been fastened, but I was too weak. There, you idiot, there, food, nourishment, sustenance!

I slumped, the curtain of my white hair falling between me and the opposite wall as it had some many times over the...Years? Months?

Eons?

She leaned up against the door, and I felt her fear, sensed her situation.

I know you don't want to die tonight, I said into her mind.

The door creaked open, a small figure leaping through.

Her? That slip, that barely grown girl was the heir of Hellsing, come to release me?

A hoarse laugh, another gunshot. A feminine cry of pain.

The splatter of blood on the ground between my knees.

There, just there, you can reach it, go, go, now! NOW!

There is something about blood from a noble person, it has a, a taste, a hint, a soupçon, of class, of vintage. It was as though it was the finest wine ever fermented and aged for years in the barrel, then decades in the bottle.

And it was just between my knees.

Just out of reach.

I heard voices, muttering, chattering, laughing. I couldn't make out the words, my own mind and body were shouting at me.

There, life, drink it, free yourself! Kill them all!

But she...

Her, whose blood I know smelt before me...

No, she was not worthy of the death about to befall her. The blood of the one holding the pistol on her was foul, rotting from within. The others seemed afraid to be in here.

I knew she was the heir to Hellsing, and if she was here, under attack, that meant that Lionel was dead.

Pity, I rather liked the man outside of his paranoia about me.

I wonder what befell of Walter...

I knew that by drinking her blood, I would be establishing the bonds that would contain me as much as they could, linking my mind to hers, making her call irresistible. But no more. I served these people, this family out of a sense of honor. They had a reason for doing what they did, and though her ancestor, Abraham Van Helsing, might have been a thorn in my side, I can hardly blame them for protecting their homeland from these maggots that threatened to take it over.

Just as the man whose blood bore a tint of the Hellsing line, rotting from within, was threatening to take over this group that I served loyally.

I managed to get my knees beneath me, and bent forward as much as I could in my bindings, stretching out my tongue.

Almost...

Almost...

There!

It was indeed Hellsing blood. I could feel the mental link growing as one of the men cried out. "What was that? The dead body moved! Mr. Hellsing, what is that?"

Richard, Lionel's brother.

Worse than the FREAKS, to betray his blood. No vampire would dream of doing such things. Blood is more than our food; it is the coin of our realm, and the ties made with it are more binding than the most potent spells.

He said something, but I missed it as I flexed my arms, ripping the brittle leather of the bindings that had held me for the years.

"A vampire? Is this how you protect me?"

So the little one hadn't known what was down here.

Amusing.

"Shoot him! Kill him! Send him back to Hell!"

Ah, some fun to be had, it seems.

The first guard hadn't even cleared his gun from his jacket before my hands tore through his skull, one hand shearing through the flesh and bone, the other gripping the top and pulling it to me. I drank the blood flowing from his skull greedily, feeling my power and strength return with each drop.

The other men died quickly, a better death than they deserved. The man named Richard, this Benedict, this Judas, stood with that Walther PPK still held in his hand, whimpering as I approached. I would not drink his blood.

I have standards.

I merely tore his arm off at the elbow, the arm and gun landing in front of the girl.

I looked at her. "You are the one who disturbed my rest," I said in an effort to introduce myself.

"Don't come any closer to me, monster."

I smiled, blood still on my lips. "Your sweet blood was the first I've tasted in over twenty silent years."

She shot me five times.

It kind of hurt.

My pride, that is.

I laughed as I slammed my fist into the wall by her head. I still wanted her to fear me. "Those souls who suffer their righteousness, will know their eternal inheritance." I said to her, intending her to understand that I was at her command, and had killed those men in her defense.

"Vile demon," she spat at me. "I am the lord and master of the Hellsing Family, Integra Wingates Hellsing. I would die before allowing a vampire to order me."

So much for that working.

"That gun is useless against me. Give up, little girl and listen..."

"Shut up! I'll never give up. I would die before giving up. That is my duty and pride as the leader of the Hellsing Organization."

Well, so much for her fearing me. But she was her father's daughter, no mistake. I laughed.

"Wonderful! Just wonderful! You make my blood boil, you are father's daughter!"

I knelt in front of her, to her great surprise. "Forgive my impertinence, Sir Hellsing. Your orders," I raised my head to look at her. "My Master?"

The shocked look on her face was priceless.

I heard a scrabbling sound. "Ridiculous. The brat, and a beast? Damn it! I am the leader of Hellsing, Hellsing is mine!"

That git was up again. He picked up a fallen pistol and fired it.

I slammed my arm out, catching the bullet before it hit Integra. "Your blood rots," I snarled at the refuse heap masquerading as a man. "You are not the master of this house."

He started whimpering again. Simpleton. I've faced ghouls with more fortitude.

"What's your name?" asked the girl as she steadied her arms across mine, aiming the Walther at her uncle.

"Alucard," I said. Names, such a human concept. Go with what Lionel called me? Why not? "That is the name my last master used."

She fired, the bullet ripping into her uncle between his eyes.

"Bastard," she spat at him.

Then, preceded by the pistol, she fell to the floor. At first I though she had passed out, then I realized she was weeping.

It took me a minute to try to understand why: that she had just shot a man she considered family, who had watched over her when she was young. She was weeping for the man that had tried to murder her.

I reached out and placed my hand on her uninjured shoulder. I was going to offer a word of solace, something along the lines of 'It was him or you. You did what was needed.'

Those words never left my throat. As soon as my hand touched her shoulder, she leapt at me, flinging her arms about my neck, still weeping. I knelt there for a moment, arms limp at my sides, not sure what to do. I had always preferred scaring humans to consoling them. After a moment I wrapped my arms around her and held her as she cried, cried over the death of her father, the betrayal of her uncle, her killing of the man that had tried to kill her.

I don't think I'll ever understand humans.

After a few minutes, she pulled back, wiping her eyes. She composed herself and looked at me. "Alucard, you said?"

I nodded.

"Why were you locked up down here?"

"That," I said quietly. "Is a story that is very long and very detailed. Before I tell you, I suggest you get that wound bound. Go," I gestured at the stairs. "I'll clean up down here." The blood would finish reviving me. All but that of Richard Hellsing.

That I would leave for the rats.

She nodded, and left me to feed.

So, now, ten years later, I have been released, and I have been allowed greater freedom than I ever had under Lionel. And I feel something for this human, something I cannot describe.

Feel something for Integra Hellsing. But what is it? Surely it cannot be love.

Can it?

Ah well, I'll think on it after I return from Cheddar.

I do so love Search and Destroy.