A/N: This is serving to be an introduction to the sequel. I have ideas but nothing has formed yet.

Disclaimer: This serves for the whole thing: I don't own anyone in this.


Mine is the shade that's walking behind...
Mine are the footsteps you never will find...
Try to outrun me, it still is the same...
I am the Hunter...
You are the Game...


A shadow passed across his face as he peered across the way at the building. A heavy rain was falling despite the patchy cloud cover, drenching him and the woman on his right, but they didn't care. Such things didn't bother them, not with what they were.

Undead.

He swept a hank of wet, dripping hair out of his face, the rust colour darkened to a deep copper. His grey-blue eyes blinked once, fixed on what was going on in the room they were observing. Two men were working on technical diagrams for something, and there were various notations on the screens that he recognized.

The blonde woman raised the camera at her side and snapped a few pictures, the gold band on her finger glinting in the light of the moon as it came back out from behind the clouds. Her hair, once short and spiky, was now tied back from her shoulders in a long braid that fell to just below her shoulder blades. She had a large pistol strapped to her thigh, and the flak vest that she wore bore several insignia, one still new: a crown sewn onto the collar of her tunic.

He shifted his weight, feeling the two pistols tucked under his arms rub against his sides. The leather duster he wore was stained from many such jobs as this. He raised the binoculars to his face again in an attempt to read the smaller writing on the projection screen. His fingers tightened around the barrels of the instrument, the fingerless gloves creaking slightly.

"Can you make out anything?" the woman asked.

"No, the damn writing is too small." He lowered the binoculars and hook his hair from his face again, a look of deep thought covering his face.

She tucked the camera away in the small satchel she had behind her. "Well, we've got the primary evidence we were sent to get. It'll be up to Integra to give the Go/No-Go signal."

The man nodded. He looked back at the skylight they had been spying through. Twelve years now, they had been trying to track these people down, and it was still like trying to catch mist in your hands.

"It's like a hydra," he murmured as he fingered the insignia on his collar, the same as hers.

"Come again?"

He looked at her. "I thought I brought you up to speed on mythology, dear child."

"You have. I was asking what you meant."

He gestured back at the building as he scooted back under the small awning they had over their heads. He looked at her red eyes, speckled with bits of blue in them.

"Every time we find and roll up a centre or plant, two more pop up. At this rate, we'll be fighting this fight for all of eternity."

She smirked, the tip of a long tooth appearing in the corner of her mouth. "Not a bad prospect, considering the company."

He reached out and gave her a light shove. The ring on his hand glinted in the moonlight.

"You are too kind, Police Girl. But there are times I wonder if you keep me around because of my amazing wit and superior intellect."

"No, my dear," she said, leaning forward to kiss him.

"It's your guns," she said, as she picked up her pack and began to move towards the interior of the building where the communications gear was set up.

He looked at her as she went.

"Vampire women," he murmured, neither for the first time nor the last.

"What was that, Thanatos?" her voice called.

"Nothing dear," he said, rising to join her.

"Just repeating an old thought."

It was time to leave, and return to England.


Yours is the fear that makes my wine...
Yours is the kind that we hunt through time...
Sharp are our teeth, broad are our wings...
You are the Pawns...
We are the Kings...


He continued to trot across the field, his shaggy fur ruffling in the light breeze that blew across him. He felt the heavy collar about his neck, and he knew that he would cause some raised eyebrows if he was seen, but this form was less likely to draw suspicion since bats were rare in this part of the continent.

He blinked his eyes, the eight orbs closing in succession. He could still pick up the scent. He was getting close.

He could hear the sounds of the forest ahead, the animals hiding from his approach, his strangeness.

Sometimes they were smarter than humans.

He continued to stalk the elusive scent, following it to a small cabin. He shifted into human form just before entering.

"Target is confirmed. Releasing control art restrictions to level four."

Search and Destroy.

His favourite pastime.

Well, second favourite.

Antagonizing the head of Hellsing would be his favourite.

The fight was short, too short for his tastes, but he had the satisfaction of cutting loose for a change.

He left, walking outside and seeing the heavy fog that had settled over the land. He blended with it, sending his mind out to touch that of his Master.

Limited power release, completed.


The Flames of the Inferno shall char...
The Gates of Mortality shall bar...
Your kind and mine, bound by blood...
Should the champion loose...
It will flow as a flood...


She swept her long blonde hair out from in front of her face. She had papers strewn across her desk, each of them containing some technical detail about this bit of technology or a report from a field unit or an update on some project.

She sighed. It never ended, especially for the administrator of an organization as large as hers was. She chewed on the tip of a cigar, trying to find her lighter under the ocean of reports on her desk.

She reflected on the events of the last twelve years as she located the tool and applied it to the wrapped leaves. So many changes in her life, in the lives of her closest friends. Victories short lived, friends lost to battle and the claws of age.

She closed her eyes at the last thought. She missed him so dearly. He had been indispensable to the group.

She exhaled a small cloud of smoke. And this blasted infestation was getting worse, if nothing else. Between the general flood of the chipped vampires and the children sired by the earlier generations, secrecy was no longer an option. They had received increased funding due to public demand for safety.

Of course, she kept the secret that she had two of the creatures they were hunting were on the payroll and that she and another of the group weren't fully human either.

What the public didn't need to know wouldn't hurt them.


The eye of a Hunter will reveal...
What is kept behind the seals...
Betrayal will bear fruit, old seeds sown...
Will become trees fully grown...


He looked about, getting his bearings. His long black coat fluttered in the wind. He continued on, keeping his head low and his hands in his pockets. His short hair, brown with a shock of white running from over his left eyebrow up and back across his head, rippled in the breeze. He scanned the people walking the streets alongside of him. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, hiding his mismatched blue and brown eyes. He knew that they would draw stares. He couldn't be noticed.

He had so much work to do, things to set up and contracts to pick up, targets to hit. He felt the comfortable wieght of his weapons under his jacket, the battered old Berrettas riding at the small of his back and the grip of a long blade bumped against his tailbone.

He noted the address of the building he was passing. Three blocks to go. He arrived at his destination and entered the restaurant. He made his way back to the door that led to the kitchen and pulled on a pair of black gloves. He reached up and tripped the switch hidden in the trim that ran across the low ceiling. A section of the wall slid aside. He stepped in, his hand whipping out and catching the man that had jumped up to oppose him across the throat. He fell, gagging.

He pulled a pistol out and reached into a pocket, withdrawing a silencer and threading it onto the barrel. He walked up to the door at the end of the corridor and kicked it open, striding in and brining his pistol up and firing six shots in rapid succession. Three men fell to the ground, bleeding from two wounds in the centre of mass. He looked at each of them, confirming that they were all the targets he had been contracted to hit.

He reached down onto the floor, picking up the small case that had fallen to the floor and opened it. The contents were intact. He turned and headed back out, shooting the struggling guard as he passed.

No witnesses.

Places will be reversed and roles discarded...
New facts will be brought to be regarded...
Hunter or Hunted, Who can say...
Which is which on a given day?