Hellsing Ultimate OVA 2: Alucard's Dream

"All flesh is grass. And all the cunningness thereof as the flower of the field. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of our God abideth forever."

Where had he gone wrong?

Then the stake went between his ribs. He had been expecting the pain, but perhaps not to this level; it was immense, more then he had ever felt, and he had experienced a great deal of hurt. His mouth opened as if to scream, but only a gurgle noise came out as blood flew past his lips. He would not scream; that is what the enemy wanted. The hunter wanted him to beg for mercy and plead for his life. That was what he would look for, and he expected no less from the one to kill him. His eyelids felt heavy, but he managed to open them halfway.

The air was humid and moist, the sky gray with rain clouds. The graveyard was completely silent except for the tweet of a bird and the occasional clap of thunder. What details of the atmosphere he could see grew misty as red drops fell from his eyes to match the trail of blood that ran down his chin; they were involuntary tears, and not of just physical pain. All he could do was lie there and stare up at the looming figure of Abraham Van Helsing.

"Have I been...bested, sir?" His rich Romanian accent and hush tone made the words harder to comprehend. At first, he thought Van Helsing hadn't heard him. The response came soon enough though.

"Yes, you are bested. This is not a nightmare you will be awaking from. Your castles are plundered, your dominions in ruin, your servants destroyed."

He didn't respond. What would be the motive for that? Victory was out of his reach; he had been defeated. There was no point in trying to reclaim something that he had lost. Van Helsing only continued to rub his losses in his face.

"And the girl has fled this place forever more! She will never be yours, Count." That sentence hit his heart harder then any stake ever could, and he still did not defend himself. He only stared up into the hard, ice blue eyes of his death. Those eyes narrowed as Van Helsing raised a closed fist skyward, only to come down upon the butt of the stake. He had been counting on Abraham to show pity. He'd been hoping that his human heart wouldn't allow him to be cruel. His tone hinted no survival.

Where had he gone wrong?

It was a killing blow; the wood pierced through his heart completely. The sharp tip of the stake could be seen coming out his back as he flew backwards at the force of the hit. He allowed himself to release a cry of agony as the immense pain turned excruciatingly unbearable. He thought he'd be left here in this graveyard to bleed dry and disenergrate into ash, but two hands reached out and gripped the collar of his black cloak. Van Helsing wasn't finished just yet.

"You are judged, and found wanting, Vampire King! You have nothing! You are nothing! Nothing!"

The words were true. He'd had everything, made a mistake somewhere, overlooked something, and he'd lost all he had. The imaginary weight of his eyelids finally became too much, and they began to close. As he was loosing consciousness and his vision grew dark, he couldn't help but wonder:

Where had he gone wrong?


Alucard's eyes snapped open. He saw no graveyard, and no wood was protruding from his heart. He was in his chambers, sitting in his throne in the middle of the large room. An unpleasant, sticky wetness was begining to dry on his cheeks. Alucard lifted a hand to dab at the wet, and put it out infront of him to inspect.

Red now stained his glove.

A frown played on his thin lips. He had been napping, not weeping. Why would he be crying in his sleep? Why would he be-...realization hit him then, making Alucard frown harder.

"Dreaming...it was just a dream."

When was the last time he had dreamed? Alucard couldn't recall; it must have been centuries ago. He made a displeased sound, looking at the blood tears on his hand with frustration. Why had he dreamed? What was the purpose of such a thing? 'It wasn't a dream.' Alucard thought, eyes narrowing. No...it wasn't possible. He could not dream, but he could remember. Memories came from the past, and the past was irrelevent to the present. Now and the future was what mattered, and there was no use dwelling on things that have already happened.

"It was nothing."