Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano.

Author's Notes: Set after the Manga, spoilers for some events on volume 8. AU written before Hundred Swords IV was published (thus ignores Anderson's apparent suicide). Dedicated to Dawninhell and edited by VampKitty. This is the entry for July Contest in fictionhaven under the theme of mockery (against paternalist government, Christian religion mostly, not trying to be insulting, it's just a story). Warning, this fic is very unusual and trippy.

Furies and Drones

These were perilous times for a lone man to walk on the deserted streets of Midian; once London, now the Capital of the world. A decade had passed since World War Three, yet the tense atmosphere, the smell of smoke and baking flesh and the echoes of the screams had never left for him.

Alexander Anderson was a hunted man, why did he insist on returning every year to the same place that brought the fall of humanity and patriarch governments around the globe? His teletransportation act would not always work; he could feel his hair greying further and the lines of age accentuating despite his regeneration condition. He could not fight the natural passing of time. Maybe it was a ritual to fill the void of past glories, to remind him how impotent he had become and snapped him to battle.

It never worked.

He coughed and put his hands in his pockets, walking on the bank of the Thames River. It was red now, stained with the blood of males who refused to submit every day, the new Red Sea for the demons. He paused to stare at the waters. There was a boat sailing across it. He could not see who the occupant was, only noticing the umbrella that shielded the sailor against the sun.

Anderson bent down and picked up a rock to throw to the waters, watching it sink and fall to the bottom. Suddenly, he heard several loud bangs and sibilants coming on his direction. Moving quickly, he pushed his body to the ground to dodge the oncoming bullets.

"Guten Tag, Herr Anderson. We were waiting for you."

Standing, Anderson clearly saw who the boat's occupant was. Standing there now was a woman dressed with a long, red ceremonial toga. Her long, black hair formed a curl in front of her head and eyes flicked from red to blue. With her right hand she held a musket, the other carried her umbrella. She used to be on the devil's side ten years ago. She had fired at his bayonets, before She awoke and took her and every female around under Her wing.

"Let's see if you can destroy the bayonets this time, she devil!" Anderson grinned madly and summoned his bayonets, his long repressed thirst for undead blood rekindling.

"You think yourself the hunter when you are the prey," she answered, her face darkening and shifting into a fearsome shark like appearance. He was about to attack when the whistle of the bullets zoomed in his ears once more. "You cannot escape my aim, Herr Anderson." He ducked once more, placing a chain of bible pages in front of him to shield himself. Unfortunately, the flying sharp objects pierced through them and hit him. They were darts.

Anderson collapsed, his body weakening at once. He attempted to grasp a bayonet or escape by summoning his bible pages, to stand by employing his elbows, but his functions seemed immobilized. Frustrated, he made his best attempt to remain awake as the vampire sailed towards the bank, using her umbrella as oar. She hopped out of her vessel and landed next to him, poking his ribs with her blood soaked umbrella.

"Süße Träume, Paladin Anderson. You have faced the Huntress," she grinned toothily. "Did you like the new brand of tranquillisers? We devised them specially for you."

"Devil's wanton playmate," he uttered, trying to be insulting. His lids fell heavier and heavier but he caught the shift from her mirthful expression to anger.

Her eyes turned red as she plunged her umbrella on his leg painfully. "Samiel thought he caught Kaspar, but Kaspar won Lilith's favour and became Artemis. They are waiting for you. Pity the Supreme Priestess Heinkel and the General Takagi are in Italy now."

Anderson felt her hands tying something around his ankles. It was a firm rope. As his body became number and his consciousness fled, he realized she was dragging him like a captured animal through all the city towards his destination. He nearly welcomed the heavy slumber to escape the humiliation.


A familiar landscape appeared in front of Anderson: The corpses of his fellow Section XIII team-mates and the minions of death they had fought bravely until they perished. London was destroyed, reduced to a pile of smoking brick. Streets were filled with cadavers of every age.

Yumi was holding an injured Heinkel, screaming his name at the same time Integral Hellsing shouted Alucard an order to withdraw while Seras remained faithfully at her side. But it was too late. His Nemesis and himself met in the final clash they had been anticipating since their meeting; no woman would come between them now. How mistaken they had been. An explosion above them made them pause and turn their heads to the sky. The Zeppelins were engulfed by flames and a white, giant feminine figure emerged from them.

"She has awoken," Alucard whispered, his features shifting from battle lust to the most primal fear.

Anderson was speechless, looking at the strange, glowing being that had accomplished frightening his devilish adversary. She was beautiful and horrid, gargantuan yet small, slim and fat, young but ancient. She had the face of every woman that was, is and would be. "She's…"

"The First!" Integral Hellsing exclaimed aloud, in awe at the awaked entity. "She's but a legend."

Anderson shuddered when Her gaze surveyed the battlefield, feeling undressed by Her look. She was watching him through thousands of eyes. Holding his cross, he tried to shield from Her in vain, the item melting in his hands. It was a relief when She turned Her attention elsewhere, to the women in the field. Her arms opened, welcoming, urging them to come to Her in countless tongues of which he could only recognise a handful.

They responded and Anderson wondered if they even had a chance to fight Her summoning for too long. The dark haired vampire with a musket that had come out from Alucard's coffin went first, Draculina joining soon after. It took a bit more for Yumi, Heinkel and Sir Hellsing to be compelled to follow but they all obeyed, mystified by the godlike manifestation that would eventually wrap their perceptions. She closed Her arms around them, levitating the five of them to keep them near Her.

Anderson could not raise a single bayonet. He was shaking and his faith was collapsing. How could he fight Her? How could a one-armed priest fight something as old as Earth? He understood his rival's fear and envied his courage to remain and witness the rest of the drama, but he could not. He denied recognising this being as the new deity.

In the dream, because Alexander Anderson was certain that remorse made him remember the scene over and over again, he wanted to force himself to change things only for once, to remain instead of run. But nothing changed, the past was unable to morph, and before She had a chance to call for the males, he transported himself out of London.


"Fear makes you flee and guilt makes you return? Or is it something else? You are a strange creature, Judas Priest. Open your eyes, I know you are awake. Open your eyes and face the fate you have been avoiding."

Anderson growled, recognising the mocking tone coming from Alucard's silver tongue. He was weak, his limbs were still stunned by the effect of the tranquilliser. Even so, he attempted to move his arms and legs only to note he was tied to the mattress with paper. Bible pages! His eyes widened in realization, turning his head to his left to glare at the mocking vampire. Alucard was sitting on a plush chair resembling a throne, dressed in a strange black leather outfit that was a cross between a straight jacket and one of gears the lost souls employ for their entertainment.

"You shouldn't be surprised to be chained by your own weapon," Alucard informed him, his lips forming a twisted smile. "Knowing Integral's sense of humour and the fact you are not the only regenerator anymore."

"Even as a hermit, I am aware of how the world changed," Anderson spat, recalling what he saw. Women regenerating their limbs, fighting males. There were no women older than twenty in the world who were not regenerators or vampires nowadays. He often questioned how She accomplished that. That was how they took over power by force. A bloodthirsty Matriarch. "I am waiting for Babylon to fall along with the whore that pretends to be our Creator."

"But Babylon rises again and again," Alucard commented, smirking. His fingers tapped the chair in a damnable way. "Remember, those passages were written by males and now the ones who reign are women. She won't have any traitor in Her midst…"

"Lies and brainwashing, a cult, a glorifying cult against the eyes of Our Lord," Anderson retorted. "That's all I am seeing."

"Is it, Paladin Alexander Anderson?" Integral Hellsing's voice resounded through the room. It was imperial and subtly demanding. He could not move to see her but assumed she had not changed an inch. "Alucard, what did I tell you about sitting in my chair? Return to your proper place."

Anderson wondered if his eyes deceived him. The vampire pouted briefly and stood, revealing a shiny, silver chain and a collar that had been concealed by shadows. He sat on the floor, at the feet of the chair while Integral settled on it. She was dressed in a similar toga, like the Huntress, but deep purple instead of red. Her skin was healthy and she was breathing, an indication she was not yet a vampire.

"How far the mighty have fallen," Anderson muttered, in shame to see the once devoted woman in that condition.

"By all means, Alexander," Integral shook her head, stroking Alucard's hair idly as if he were her lapdog. "I am the same. Aren't I protecting my lands? My people? I am following my duty. But alas, my mortal Queen perished in the flames of war and another took her place." She paused suddenly, inclining her head at the vampire butler to come inside.

Anderson knew the old Walter Dornez had been changed with Millennium Group methods and for some reason, She decided to keep him around instead of destroying him like the rest of Her fake children. Probably to indulge the chief of her idolaters.

Walter delivered her a letter. There was a female symbol as the seal. She scanned through it briefly. "The Great Priestess Heinkel sends her greetings, Alexander. She's looking forward to visiting you soon."

Anderson growled. The mere thought of Sister Wolfe Heinkel lobotomised into a heathen worshiper rekindled his former strength. He fought the bounds, only to realize the grip had tightened.

"Don't force me to harm you," Integral warned, then shot a sinister look at Walter, who menacingly swirled his wires. "Or order Walter to remove an arm or two. You won't need them for a while in any case. But you can't regenerate your limbs as strongly as before, can you? Your powers diminished considerably all these years…"

"How?" Anderson hissed.

"How I have those powers? Or how I know about your impotence?" Integral tilted her head. "She prizes Her personal furies, we are imbued of what we wanted to be. We have special gifts. Walter, you can leave, I can handle this. And Alucard, not a word unless I say so." He saw the butler bowing to depart and the vampire closing his mouth, quite miffed. "You didn't think for a second your little escapes to my city were unwatched, did you?"

Anderson refused to respond. A priest with ruined clothes was easy to spot, but that was because he wanted to be noticed. Even with the disadvantage of his waning might, as long he had strength, he was willing to battle.

"We waited for you to return on your own accord but it seems we need special persuasion," Integral admitted. "The prodigy child was too proud to admit his humble origins."

Anderson's expression hardened. "What are you talking about, Hellsing? Did Her lies consume your brilliance into babblings?"

"Don't use that tone with Sir Hellsing."

Anderson nearly winced. She was the last one, after Alucard, who wanted to see him in the dire circumstances. The Draculina soon approached him, looking at him with ferocity. Seras Victoria was sporting a yellow toga. It was shorter than Integral's, more free to move and fight.

"You should apologise," Seras demanded. Anderson glared at her. He did not care that Seras Victoria was in charge of the security of Her reign as Hellsing was pulling the political strings, he was an outcast of their system. A man.

"Seras," Integral addressed, a gentle smile crossing her features. "It's alright. He doesn't know yet."

"Know what?"

"Have you ever wondered why you felt compelled to return?" Integral inquired, gesturing for Seras to come to her side. "Your whole body wants to belong here, it's not just your remorse." Anderson snorted and was ready to deny such a lie but she continued, not allowing him to speak.

"Sixty years ago, the Vatican made a deal with Major Montana Max in exchange of a piece for the secret of immortality in flesh," she elaborated, closing her eyes. "A portion of Her skin. Doubting Thomas all of them wanted to prove if the propriety of her tissues were as powerful as the Nazis claimed to be. The crystallization experiments began the approval of the Papal seal under the excuse of creating a warrior to destroy menaces. A quest for immortality disguised as self righteousness."

Anderson was speechless, there was a knot in his throat. He yearned to deny those words, to say it was a lie. He could not be Her child, a bastard one no less, just like the Millennium freaks.

"In other words, vampires and regenerators have the same origin. We are like cousins, as odd as that sounds," Seras finished, walking towards the table. She glanced at Integral, who nodded before slashing his shoulder. Blood poured from the wound but Anderson refused to wince. "Your regeneration has slowed down."

"Why didn't they use the experiments to become immortal, if that what they sought?" Anderson questioned her logic, freezing when he felt a cold, moistened tongue lapping at the wound. "Keep your filthy mouth out of me, Draculina!"

He attempted to summon his bayonets or the strength to seal the room with purity of the Lord but found the pages chaining him tightly, leaving Anderson breathless. Seras nipped him, causing him to shiver before leaning off.

"Your attempts to summon your Lord's tricks are useless," Integral informed him as she stood, heading to Seras' side. She did not seem to address his insolence. "This room has been blessed by our Lady's powers, after all. And in your weakened state, you aren't able to fight me."

Her hands were roaming on his chest, ripping the fabric of his rugged cloth with a rough pull. However, she did not undo his priestly collar. Anderson sucked in his breath. Unlike Seras' skin, Integral's flesh was warm and inviting.

"You are the only male regenerator, and because you have treated women fairly, you'll be allowed to remain as such," Integral commented, eyelids half closing. "She did not commit the same mistake to give the power of flesh to males like She committed to offer the secret of Her blood. The oppression of our gender is no longer a reality, the tables are turned."

"Even drones have their uses," Seras smiled, discreetly sneering towards Alucard.

"She wants me to conceive, a Triad of ruling power. She would be the Crone, I would be the Mother and my daughter would be the Maiden," Integral said, her digits caressed Anderson's chest, extracting tickles and pleasurable sensation with their stroking. "My descendant won't carry mortal blood. It must be shaped with Her flesh."

"That's why you sent your she wolf to captured me," Anderson replied, trying to contain the illicit gasps her touching provoked. He had marvellous self-control but he was a man and his senses were aware of the spicy atmosphere, the sensuous musk scent that was suddenly spreading on the air. "To lay with you and produce an abomination-" He winced. Seras had lashed him again, this time on his throat. He convulsed, gasping for air.

"I warned you about what you said to Integra," she pointed out, defensively snaring her shadow trump around Integral's arm, nuzzling it. "You won't be touching her like that." Anderson did not pay attention to the lesbian interaction. His lungs were deprived of air, and he was half repulsed and half relieved when Draculina bent down and lapped the wound closed, nibbling the flesh.

"You will cooperate, of course, Alexander," Integral Hellsing patted Seras' shoulder, brushing the short strands. Her other hand left his chest to reach a plastic receptacle on a table beside the bed. Draculina kept licking, tickling his pulse with her fangs, pushing his collar up with her nose. He shuddered at the scraping, it was predatory and erotic. In horror, he discovered how tight his trousers had become.

"We will assure you to… become excited enough. Don't worry about the intercourse. Even before my transformation, I was planning on artificial insemination," Integral commented as the bible chains freed him for a second before positioning once more, shackling his wrists and ankles instead, providing him a better mobility. But he did not struggle, not anymore. Anderson was occupied in muffling a moan as Seras scraped his chest with her only hand.

"Succubus… whore…" Anderson insulted Seras, who did not seem fazed by his name-calling.

"You aren't my dream date either, but I prefer to touch myself than let my Integra do it," Draculina nipped his Adam's apple viciously, prodding her tongue there.

Anderson's eyes narrowed, he would have preferred someone alive than someone undead in the lesser evils scale. He was paralysed as his zipper was brought down. He prayed silently while Integral's warm hand brushed the heated skin of his groin, sliding his trousers down slightly but pausing in her endeavour.

"You are still fighting," Integral commented, circling the bed to bend in front of Seras, her warm mouth on his ear. "Still starving, resisting the truth."

"And you gave up," Anderson accused, finding his voice in the midst of lust. "To this mockery of what you stood for? What happened to your God? To your religion?"

"I forsake a life of patriarchy lies for the blinding reality. Didn't you do the same when Enrico Maxwell betrayed your ideals?" Integral interrogated, her blunt teeth sank on the shell of his ear. The small gesture enticed a growl of his chest.

"Do you hunger, now that the Vatican doesn't feed you with their special 'meals'? Ever wondered what the menu was about?" Her index finger stroked his scar lightly as Seras' digits tickled his ribs. Anderson absently recalled the dish prepared to him, no matter what it was, always contained meat.

"Your Church sought immortality of flesh, and just like vampirism, regeneration has a price to pay. After creating you and knowing in what consisted, they weren't willing to take Her gift," Integral repeated, her nail descending from his cheek to his throat, brushing against the intact collar before continuing their path to pinch his exposed nipple. "The berseker side effect, just like vampirism," her murmurs fogged Anderson's mind, lulling his senses to stop fighting the seduction. "The advantage of being alive yet with a slower reproduction, mortal one. And our price…"

Anderson's eyes rolled up, overwhelmed by the revelations and the caresses of the two women, cold, icy skin and warm, almost feverish one. He was shaking in passion, the last shreds of his self-control fading.

"We are reborn of her blood," Draculina added to the explanation, her face was buried on his throat, teasing his pulse with her fangs. "We feed from blood, human blood, to maintain our status."

"We are made of her flesh," Integral reminded him, her mouth close to his, her words almost lost to his ear by the silencing kiss both shared. "Thus we must consume it."

They fed him with meat, the strange flavoured dishes that he never tasted again, a secret recipe that allowed him to recover his strength. Flesh, human flesh, his mind screamed to deny the cannibalism practice. In his mental breakdown, he could see Her before his very eyes, the Mother that wanted to become the Crone. She was engulfing his senses completely, encompassing the spiritual release, welcoming where he truly belonged while his body was defeated to the spasms of ecstasy. And before smiling placidly, basking in the afterglow, he heard his former Nemesis.

"Drones have their uses, don't we, Judas Priest?" Alucard asked, no longer mocking. He had nothing to make fun of.

Yes, we do.