"Once upon a time, a vampire embarked on a voyage to England…to attain one woman he so thirstily longed for."
-Hellsing, Chapter 57
A cool, toe chilling breeze makes it's way underneath her covers, awakening her from her restless slumber. She groans, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she sits up in bed; her warm white sheets slip off her body, allowing the cold night air to embrace her. She shivers, unable to recall if it was natural for the bedroom to feel so cold at night, her breath cascades down past her lips in a silver mist. "Lucy," She moans as she stops rubbing her eyes and faces the adjacent bed, wondering if her good friend is awake. She gasps when she discovers the neighbouring bed to be vacant, the white sheets pulled clean out from under the mattress and scattered across the floor, drooping like lonely ghosts.
She scrambles out of bed while grabbing and enveloping herself with the shawl she left on its post, she looks around the room, trying to locate Lucy. "Lucy! Lucy!" She calls, but Lucy is nowhere to be found. She starts to panic, the knowledge of her friend's sleepwalking and abnormal dispositions while doing so cause her even more worry. She must find Lucy and quickly, for she does not know how long the poor, tormented girl has been out and about.
A sudden cold gust of air enters the room again, and her attention is turned to the open window, the source of her nightly discomfort. She quickly makes her way towards the window and is about to close it when she spots a figure wandering aimlessly in the churchyard nearby. It is the figure of a woman, her nightgown blew ominously in the wind. "Lucy," She whispers in dread.
Without bothering to close the window, she rushes out of the bedroom, down the stairs and towards the door leading to the road. Her worry is so great that she doesn't even take the time to get a lantern, and instead, bursts through the front door and ventures out into the black night of a new moon. She is almost blind in that blackness, but she trusts herself and knows her way down the path. She will get to Lucy, even if she has to jump through a wall of fire. She runs as fast as she can towards the churchyard, the chilling night air slicing at her throat, causing her to pant hoarsely. But she keeps her frantic pace down the path, despite her discomfort. "Up the hill now, just up the hill." She tells herself.
"Lucy!" She cries, mere feet away from the churchyard now. She finally reaches the gate and all but rips it clean of its hinges. She continues to run towards her dearest friend but is suddenly ferociously pulled back by some invisible force. She gasps and quickly spins around, frightened that it may have been some drunk or attacker, only to discover the corner of her shawl had been caught on the gate she had just flung open. Sighing in relief, she quickly unhinges her shawl, and then continues to run towards Lucy. "Lucy," She calls out, but Lucy does not respond. "Lucy can you hear me? Luc-" She is suddenly struck with silence as she realizes that she and Lucy are not the only ones in the churchyard this night.
Lucy is reclining on one of the benches, her eyes are closed, but she is panting, little mewls escaping her blue shaded lips. Lucy is once again exhibiting that odd disposition, that state of otherworldliness. Lucy is trembling, as if she were overwhelmed with sensation, her mewls now becoming desperate pleas. However, it is not Lucy's state that frightens her, but the stranger looming right beside her. The large dark figure, cloaked in robes of black is bent over Lucy, his very aura exhibits power; and sin. The figure's face is dangerously close to Lucy's face. Lucy's breath escaped her mouth in puffs of hot mist, blanketing the stranger's face, making him sigh, almost longingly.
Surprised, but more so worried for Lucy's safety, she began to approach them, wrapping the shawl tighter around herself; for some odd reason, the air around the churchyard is much colder than the air near the house. She is about to call out to the figure, but he must of heard her approach, for he abruptly leaves Lucy, straightens himself from his bent position, revealing his colossal height, and looks at her. She is rooted into place, her body absolutely refusing to take another step foreword. Fear and unease slithers down her spine and explodes, her entire body tingles with an unconscious urge to flee. It was not this man's aura or height that caused such an animalistic fear to spawn within her, it was his eyes. They are red, alarmingly so, and they are gleaming in the darkness, like tongues of fire. She can't move, can't speak, can't think, as those eyes bore into her, as if into her very soul.
Those eyes are not human.
The figure then looks away, releasing her from her fear dominated trance. She finds herself quickly looking away too, in case the figure looks at her again, but she quickly remembers her reason for being in the churchyard in the first place, and decides that her worry for Lucy is more powerful that this stranger's presence. She looks up again, only to find that the figure is no longer to be seen. Surprised, she looks around. He couldn't have possibly left her sight so quickly.
Lucy suddenly groans from her resting place on the bench and pushing away all that she had just seen, she makes her way towards her friend. "Lucy," she whispers, but her friend is still in a deep sleep. She places her hand on Lucy's shoulder, the chilled skin reaching her hand even through the nightgown. "Oh my poor friend. You're frozen," She then removes her shawl, wraps it around Lucy and then urges her friend to get up. Lucy slowly but surely gets on her feet, mumbling incoherent sleep talk as they make their way out of the churchyard. "It's alright Lucy," She said. "I've got you now. Everything is going to be alright." And it was true, she was going to make sure that Lucy would not have to suffer this same event again. She was going to start locking the bedroom door, and monitor her friend more closely. As the two women leave the churchyard, a chilling breeze brushes against them. She shivers and wraps her shawl tighter around Lucy. The air around the church is still colder than it should be.
I awoke with a groan, my heavy eyelids slowly lifted, revealing a blurry image of the nearly vacant lunch room. My mind was still buzzing drunkenly, as if trying to decide if what I had just experienced was real or fiction. I lifted my head from it's resting position on my left arm, wincing as thousands of acidic needles began to pierce the arm that I had fallen asleep on. "Oh great," I muttered, shaking the senseless appendage. I had to wake it up since I was going to need it soon. "Looks like someone is sleep deprived," I frowned at the comment and looked up to see my fellow nurse and friend, Eliza.
Eliza smiled a greeting smile as she sat down at the table across from me, her deep brown eyes glistening. "You know Meggie, you should take a vacation. You look really stressed lately." She said, her tone dripping with concern. I sighed, avoiding Eliza's gaze. That woman had an annoying ability of reading my feelings right off of my face, but then again, I wasn't really good at hiding them in the first place. "I'm fine Eliza," I lied. "I've just been restless lately, that's all." Eliza arched a brow at that, but then wisely decided to drop the matter. Either that or she was confident that I would eventually talk to her about it.
"Well, my shift just finished, and I was looking for you so I could ask if you wanted to go out tonight. You know, a girl's night out." I shook my head. "Not tonight Eliza. Dr. Richards asked me to stay late." Eliza scoffed at this and abruptly slapped the table, startling me and the other nurses in the room. "You know, Richards must either really hate you, or really like you. He's always asking you to stay late. I've been asked about two times in the past seven months, but you? This is the second time this week Meggie! An-" I quickly placed my hand on her arm and shook it, silencing her, she looked at me with eyes ablaze, and I found it hard not to laugh at her honest irritation. Eliza was easily worked up.
"It's alright Eliza. The hospital has been pretty busy as of late and not only that, but I live only fifteen minutes from here while most of the others live at least half an hour away." I then patted her arm signalling that that was the end of that discussion. Eliza sighed and shook her head. "I swear girl, you have to be mean once in a while otherwise people are going to walk all over you." I muttered a vacant "uh-huh" as I checked my watch. It was 9:43 pm, my break time was just about over, and it was time that I get back to my station. "Don't you "uh-huh" me missy!" Eliza snapped, but with a smile on her plump brown lips.
I rolled my eyes, but returned the smile. "Who are you? My mother? Oh…and is that coffee for me? Thank you!" I said, snatching the hot paper cup nestled in Eliza's palm before she could object. Eliza gasped in a "oh no you didn't" tone and lunged towards me, trying to get her coffee back, but I quickly stepped out of her reach. Eliza growled in defeat, but then smiled, amused. "Well, someone around here has to watch your back. Now get back to work, and then get to a bed a.s.a.p." Eliza said. I agreed, as we both waved goodbye and I left the lunchroom. As I walked down the alcohol scented corridor of the hospital, my mind wandered towards my most recent dream.
It was the most vivid one yet. Everything in it felt real, as if I had been there, as if it was really happening at the time. I glanced at my arm, noticing the goosebumps that covered it, I guess even my body thought it was real. I could still feel the cold air on my skin…could still feel those red eyes. I shivered involuntarily. Maybe I really was suffering from sleep deprivation. After all that would explain the vivid dreams since people with sleep deprivation spent more time sleeping in the REM stage, otherwise known as the stage where dreams occur.
I sighed, and took a sip out coffee, cringing as I realized that it was without cream, milk or sugar. Regardless of the cause of my dreams, I wanted them to end as quickly as possible. I didn't want to see those red eyes again…they bothered me, and not because they scared me. No…it was because I had a deep irrational desire to see them again. "Meggie, you are so going to need therapy when this is over." I whispered to myself.
It was 12:08 by the time I got home. I would have arrived earlier but the moon was beautifully full that night and instead of hopping a ride on the public transit I decided to walk home so I could take her in. After all, the neighbourhood was pretty safe, and the night was warm. As I arrived at the house after the fifteen minute walk, I noticed that the kitchen light was still on. "That's odd." I muttered to myself. Either someone was still in the kitchen or someone forgot to turn the light off. In case it was the latter, I quietly made my way onto the old squeaky porch, not wanting to wake up anyone who left their window open, and just as I was about to gently slide my key into the door, a massive roar erupted from the kitchen, like a thunderstorm in it's prime.
"That is the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard! You must be crazy if you think I'm going to let you do this." My father's rarely heard angry voice startled me, causing me to drop my keys. I cursed under my breath as I bent down and reached for them. "What was going on? Why was he so upset?" Father was seldom angry, so whatever was tickling his temper had to be really serious. My heart began to pound as countless gruesome scenarios played through my mind, a sharp pressure accumulating in my chest. "No Meggie. Calm down, don't let your heart get out of whack." I told myself. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and get my heart under control.
"But daddy! I really want to go! Oh please daddy! Please let me go! Please! Please! Please!" Now that emotion filled voice was unmistakable, and it immediately swept away my lingering suspicions. It belonged to Annabelle, my older sister. Clearly, Annabelle was fighting with father over something, and I really didn't want to have any part of it, but I knew that that was wishful thinking.
Holding my breath, I slowly opened the door and entered the house. "Don't you "daddy" me Annabelle! The answer is clearly "no" and by God, don't you dare oppose me. My answer is final." Father snapped. His voice was much calmer now, but I could still sense the anger in his tone. This argument was not over yet; Annabelle must have been giving him a defiant glare. Before Annabelle could come back with a retort of her own, I slowly made my way out of the entrance corridor and into the kitchen. Both father and Annabelle turned to face me.
Father's face was as stoic as always, it was only his voice that portrayed his emotions. Annabelle on the other hand had tears glistening in her eyes, and her face was bright red. Her dirty blond hair was a mess. "Hi." I said quietly before I made my way towards the opposite end of the kitchen and hung my keys up on the key rack. Neither father nor Annabelle made a sound, they just stayed where they where, staring at the floor beneath them. I shrugged off my coat in complete silence, and then made my way towards the cupboards, pulling out a glass so I could fill it with water; I took out my flask of pills. "How was your day Meggie?" Father asked, finally breaking that awful silence. "It was alright, father." I replied, filling my glass up with water, then popping a pill into my mouth and drowning it down. "Please, oh please don't bring me into this argument." I mentally begged. I was far too tired to argue tonight, and clearly, the argument was a doozy.
"Meggie…" Annabelle began. I put down my glass, and turned to face my sister, imitating my father's stoic expression. But when I saw how sad she looked I couldn't help but empathize. Annabelle was always free spirited, sure she was irrational and had her odd quirks. She was loud and sometimes obnoxious, she had crazy mood swings, and sometimes she drove me mad with her incredible extroverted attitude, but regardless of all that I loved Annabelle. She was my sister after all, and she had a much bigger heart then I did. Sometimes, I wished I could be as loving and could bond with others as easily as she could."…Edward asked me if I wanted to move in with him…and…I said yes." Annabelle finished.
Now I understood why father was so angry. Edward, Annabelle's boyfriend of four years, was the biggest piece of trash out there. He was abusive and had hit Annabelle a few times, causing father and I tell her to leave him on multiple occasions, but she never did. She always said that she loved him too much and that things would get better between them. But they weren't even living in the same house…imagine if they did.
I, like father, was completely opposed to the idea, and I was not going to be lenient. As sisters Annabelle and I sought each others approval when it came to big decisions, it was in our nature, but this time, for her sake, I would not give in so easily. "Annabelle. You know that father and I don't like Edward. He's beating you up, and you expect us to be all happy when you tell us that you are moving in with him?" "He's not beating me up! We've just gotten rough a few times." She retorted. I snorted, crossing my arms in front of my chest. How could Annabelle keep persisting? What did she see in Edward that made him worth all this trouble? Edward was nothing but a pathetic lowlife and if the next morning I read in the newspaper that he had been run over by a bus I would only have two words to say: "Good riddance."
I persisted in my argument. "Annabelle, you haven't gotten rough. He hit you. More than once, and that's not called being rough, it's called abuse." Annabelle was silent for a moment, she removed her gaze from mine and stared down at her fingers, twiddling them. "I…forgive him, for what he has done. I forgive him." She whispered. My mouth fell open in shock and father scoffed. "You're a fool." I told her, sparing her no sugar coated words. "Perhaps," Annabelle replied. "But everyone deserves forgiveness. It's what God teaches us." I shook my head, irritated that we even had to bring religion into this discussion. "That's a pointless argument Annabelle. You know I don't believe in God." I said. "Well, you should." She countered, raising her big hazel eyes so they met mine.
Annabelle's eyes were alight and full of certainty. She truly believed with all her soul in what she was saying. I sighed, and looked away, no longer able to look her directly in her eyes…they were too honest. "Ridiculous." I muttered to myself.
Out of nowhere, father decided to intervene. "Stop dancing around the topic Annabelle," He then looked at me, his lips curled into a feral frown. "Your sister doesn't just plan on moving in with Edward, she plans on moving with him to London, England." Now that just changed things from really bad to a whole lot worse. I glared at my sister, who defiantly glared back. How could she be so stupid? Annabelle spoke before I could voice my opinion of her state of mind. "That's right. I'm going to move to London with Edward, and neither of you can stop me. I'm twenty seven years old, I'm old enough to make my own decisions." "Like hell I'll allow my eldest daughter to go off with some piece of street garbage to the other side of the world." Father said.
Annabelle turned her gaze towards him, I watched as her hands squeezed one another on her lap. This was just as difficult for her as it was for us. "I love him daddy. And there is nothing that you can do to change that. I'm going with Edward, whether you like it or not." And she would. I knew she would. As Annabelle said, she was old enough to make her own decisions, and we couldn't legally stop her. However, I also knew that father would not budge an inch on his decision. True this upset me too, knowing that Annabelle was going to live with that maniac, but something had to be arranged, and quickly, otherwise this situation would result in disaster. Like Annabelle eloping with her beau for instance, or father grabbing his rifle and killing the bastard before the plane could take them away.
"Father," I started, but then paused, making sure this was truly the right decision. But I couldn't think of another way, so this was the way it was going to have to be. "It's alright father. I will go with her to England."
The anger and hostility was completely sucked out of the room, and my father and sister both turned to me with wide hazel eyes of astonishment. "What?" They both gaped in unison, regarding me as if I had lost my mind. Maybe I had lost my mind, that idea wasn't so far-fetched. Regardless of my mental health, I still wasn't satisfied with this idea, but it was the only way to make Annabelle happy without father blowing a gasket. I would only be able to stay there for a short time due to my job, but if I was there to keep an eye on her initially, father and I would at least have a better understanding of the situation; not to mention, we'd know Annabelle's address.
"I said that I will go with Annabelle to England." I repeated myself, for they had failed to acknowledge my answer. I patiently watched as they took my temporary solution in. I wondered if it would work. Finally Annabelle moved, she brought her hands to her face, and I watched as she pushed away crystalline tears from her eyes. Those were not tears of sadness, they were tears of relief. "Y-you would do that for me Meggie? You would come with me?" Annabelle asked, her voice shaking as she tried to hold back more tears. She kept wiping away the few tears that fell down her cheek. I looked at father then, his nostrils were flaring, and his eyes were set hard on me, but I had already made my decision. I was going to stick by Annabelle, even if it meant that she would move in with Edward. "I will come with you to London Annabelle. I will help you get settled in, and I will be there for you. But if Edward so much as lays a finger on you I am going to bring you straight home, even if I have to tie you up and gag you." Annabelle's response to that was one that was expected. She squealed and jumped towards me, engulfing me in a bear-like hug of deep affection. I couldn't help but hug her back just as fiercely.
"Absolutely not!" Father roared. I felt Annabelle cringe and her grip tightened around me. She was near her breaking point, and any moment now she was going to explode at our father, tears would be shed and horrible things would be said. I wanted to avoid that, since the entire thing would be in vain anyway. Annabelle and I have already made our decision. I let go of my sister and gave her a reassuring smile, then I turned to my beet red faced father. "Father. Please calm down and listen to what I have to say. Annabelle has her heart set on this and I doubt that neither you or I have the power to change what she wants."
"Not even the devil has that power." Annabelle mumbled from behind me. Fortunately however, my father chose to ignore this, and he continued to listen to me. I continued with my explanation.
"I'm going to take my vacation soon anyway. I've been overworked at the hospital and now seems like a good time to have a break. I will go with Annabelle to London for a two weeks, and keep an eye on her. I promise that I will take good care of her while we are gone." After I finished, father studied me intently, his eyes searching my face, reading me like the open book of emotions that I was. He didn't say a word, as his angry gaze shifted between my sister and I. I continued, knowing that it would just take a little more coaxing for him to finally agree.
"Come on father, you know me. You know that I will take good care of Annabelle, and that I won't get into trouble." "Yes, I know," Father admitted. "But something could happen to you girls over there. What if you get into an accident? You'll be there by yourselves." "It's London daddy," Annabelle said. "What the hell do you think we are going to encounter there?"
For once, Annabelle was making sense. It wasn't like we were going to a dangerous country, London was safer than most places. Father was also a rational man, it was odd that he seemed inclined to believe that there was something in London that should be avoided. Pushing that thought aside, I remained silent, waiting for my father's response. His silver, blond hair glowed under the light of the kitchen ceiling, his jaw ticked and flexed. This was clearly a painful decision on his part, and I hated to force it on him, however as Annabelle had said, she was now a woman of twenty seven, and this day had always been inevitable, ever-coming, never-stopping. No matter how much father disliked it, he had to let Annabelle go, or she was going to hate him for the rest of his life.
Finally, father's gaze fell upon mine, his clear hazel eyes, unlike my brown ones, were hard, vulnerable and filled with pain. It took everything I had not to look away in shame. "Meggie." He said. "As long as you're going with Annabelle…I will allow it. However, you are to promise me that if anything were to go wrong, if anything were to happen to either of you, that you come straight back home. I want you to promise me that. Do you understand me?" I nodded, my heart lurched with sadness to see him in such a state. He was going to feel so lonely. "I understand father." I replied. "Yes Daddy." Annabelle agreed as well.
My father nodded, unclasped the table he was gripping so fiercely, and left the room without a single word, or a single glance my way. Annabelle sighed a great sigh of relief, walked over to a kitchen chair, and propped herself in it. She smiled a tiny smile of triumph. "Thanks Meggie." She whispered. But I didn't acknowledge her gratitude, for my mind had grown numb as I glanced at the table and saw the kitchen knife. My father must have been gripping it throughout the entire argument, for scarlet red blood made it's way tenderly down the cold, merciless steel.
The past few weeks had been the most tiring and stressful that she had ever endured. Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing sat at her desk, pondering culprits and intentions behind the recent increase in vampire attacks. It was clear to her that some sort of organization was behind all of this. Someone was mass producing vampires, like cars off a factory line, and then releasing them into suburban areas. It was like releasing wolves into a sheep pen. Integra bit her lip at that thought, anger boiling within her. She would have the head of whoever was responsible for these inhuman massacres.
Aggravated, Integra lit her lighter, watching the flame dance at the tip as she placed a cigar in her mouth, she then released the switch, extinguishing the tiny flame. She did this again and again, watching the flame come to life, but then die, only to be reborn again. Suddenly the telephone rang, shattering the silence within the office. Integra's gaze snapped up to Walter, the butler, who snatched up the phone before Integra could. Clearly he was as agitated as she was and desperately sought for something (even if it was as minimal as picking up the telephone receiver) to occupy himself with.
"Good evening, this is the Hellsing organization, how may I assist you?" Walter greeted, his tone polite and courteous. There was a slight pause as Walter listened intently to the words being spoken at the other end. "Before I can tell you if she is available or not, may I ask who is calling, and for what purpose?" Walter asked. "Who is it Walter?" Integra sighed, eyeing her butler and most trusted friend with both irritation and curiosity. Walter removed the phone from his ear and covered the end, prohibiting their voices from reaching the caller. His expression had turned to one of stone, and he didn't speak for several moments. Integra could easily sense his distress. "He has informed me to tell you that he is an elderly gentlemen by the name of Quincey Harker, son of Jonathan Harker."
Integra's entire body froze at that title, and with the mention of it, an entire legacy came whirling down upon her in a ferocious twister of consequence.
That was a name she had hoped that she wouldn't hear uttered throughout her lifetime, most especially at a time like this. Integra instantly remembered her father's words, words spoken to her long ago: "Remember my dear Integra, that the Hellsing Organization has been founded for three purposes and three purposes only." "And what is that father?" Integra, then a child of nine, had asked. "The first, is to protect our church. The second, is to protect our Queen. And the third is to ensure the safety of the Harker family. Our organization must execute these purposes without fail, for it has been vowed upon the holy book that we do so." "But father?" Integra asked. "Who are the Harkers?" She was confused, after all what possible significance could one family have compared to an entire church, or the Queen herself?
Of course, her father had never told her who exactly the Harkers were and why the Hellsing Organization was in charge of their care, but Walter did. After her father's death, her uncle's betrayal, and Alucard's release, Walter had explained to her what her father could not, for telling her at the time would have revealed Alucard's existence. "So what you're telling me, Walter, is that my grandfather, Van Helsing, made an oath to Jonathan Harker that by his power, Dracula would never again plague their family. And that, that is the reason why Alucard is now serving this organization." "Yes Sir Integra. That is correct." Walter had said. "Of course, the oath was mainly to prevent Alucard from seeking out Jonathan Harker's wife, however, I do believe that it would still apply for his descendants."
Snapping out of her memories, Integra flicked the lighter on again, only this time she brought the flame to her cigar and lit it. She inhaled deeply, and released the smoke through her nostrils. She watched the smoke dance and dissipate into the air around her, like a dismal grey spectre. Without another word, Integra snatched the phone out of Walter's grip, and then with a lump of dread resting at the bottom of her throat, she put it to her ear. Whatever Quincey Harker wanted to tell her, she knew that it wasn't going to be good.
"This is Sir Hellsing on the line." Integra said, her commanding voice betraying in no way the slight feeling of unease within her. Quincey Harker didn't reply right away, and the complete silence on the other side of the line caused a knot to form in Integra's stomach. It made her uneasy to think that she had to deal with issues concerning her grandfather's and Alucard's past. Integra wasn't one to dwell on things of the past, she preferred to think about the future. Finally, Quincey Harker spoke. "There is one, and only one reason for this call Sir Hellsing, and I assure you that you will pay dearly if this demand is not fulfilled."
Integra tightly clenched the phone in her hand as those insolent words echoed through the telephone. How dare this man treat her with such disrespect? However, Integra held her tongue. She knew that an argument would get them nowhere and right now she needed to know why Quincey Harker was calling her. But before Integra replied to the obnoxiously rude man, she paused and scanned her office, taking in the air. She was glad to feel no other presence besides Walter and herself. The conversation could take place safely. "What do you want Mr. Harker?" Integra asked, skipping formalities and getting straight to the damn point.
Hopefully, Quincey Harker would be more gracious in his mannerisms, for Integra was in no mood to be tolerant…or forgiving. "Your grandfather, Van Helsing, swore to my mother and father an oath Sir Hellsing. An oath that was bound by God, an oath that has made it's way down your bloodline, and mine. I suggest you seek to it." Quincey Harker said curtly. Integra could not stop the irritated growl that escaped her lips. This man was certainly pushing it, and while she viewed the oaths that her family had taken in the past as important, she did not see them as obligatory. After all, she was not one to concern herself with the past. "I am aware of that oath. Now, if you would please stop dancing around the issue Mr. Harker and tell me what exactly the situation is."
There was another pause from Quincey Harker. Perhaps her sharp tone had made him realize that he was in no position to exert arrogant rudeness, but the man's insolent tone returned, now even stronger than before. "My daughters are making their way to London. They will be there in three days time." Integra narrowed her eyes at the news and the knot in her stomach tightened almost to the point of pain. What the hell did this man suggest she do? If she heard correctly, Harker's daughters were making their way here out of their own accord. They knew the risks, so what was the purpose of this phone call? Surely he did not expect her to take care of them?
Integra sucked greedily on her cigar, taking down not only smoke, but a whole list of obscenities that she would like to shout at the man on the other end of the line. "So, you mean to tell me Mr. Harker, that this threatening, and to be completely honest, rude phone call, is simply to inform me that your daughters are making their way to England? Is this some kind of joke? I have more important things to attend to than babysitting your kin. I will continue to uphold the oath that my grandfather made, the count will not harm your family, however, it becomes an entirely different matter when your daughters come to us. They know the risk-" "No, Sir Hellsing. They do not know." Quincey Harker suddenly interrupted.
Integra blinked, momentarily taken aback. How could his daughters not know? Clearly, this was a matter of utmost importance in their family, so how could he leave his daughter's completely ignorant? But of course, ignorance is bliss. "Well then Mr. Harker," Integra said. "I highly suggest burning their plane tickets, and while you are at it, informing your children of the situation." There was yet another pause, and the next time the Quincey Harker spoke, his voice completely changed. His tone became quiet and defeated. "Sir Hellsing. I…cannot tell them. I know you will not understand my reasoning, but telling my daughters, those two innocent and naïve girls, about the horrors my mother and father witnessed, and the horrors that I in turn had also bared witness to, is something that I cannot possibly do."
Quincey Harker was right, Integra did not understand his reasoning. As she saw it, it would have been better to warn the girls of their family's past and thus the supernatural threats present in the world. Their "innocence" as Mr. Harker said, would indeed be shattered, but it was better than being a sitting target. However, despite their differences in reasoning, Integra empathized with the man. He may be rude, but she could tell that his sole goal was to find some sort of peace in the world; for himself and for his family, away from all of the monsters. Integra understood that desire, though selfish it may be. "So this is the exact purpose of this call Miss Hellsing. You are to keep your pet on a tight leash and under a sharp eye for the next two weeks. My daughter will return home after that time, and then we will be out of your hair."
Integra was confused by this. She was sure that Mr. Harker said "daughters" so why on earth was she to keep a close watch on Alucard for only two weeks? Wasn't one of his daughters staying longer or becoming a permanent resident? "I don't understand Mr. Harker. Why for only two weeks, until only one of your daughters is gone?" Quincey Harker didn't offer his explanation right away, and Integra was getting tired of the tedious pauses in this man's speech. "Answer me." Integra snapped. Then she waited for Quincey Harker's response, in a silence that gutted the careful planning and avoiding of the past century.
"My youngest daughter looks just like her Miss Hellsing, and I don't mean mere resemblance. She is the spiting image of my mother. If you slip up, and if he sees her, I'm afraid you will find that you'll be having much more to deal with than mere ghouls." Integra's heart stopped, as she finally became aware of just how serious this situation was. If Alucard knew… "My youngest daughter will be staying at a hotel during her visit. She will be staying at the Sanctuary House Hotel in Westminster. I trust that you posses enough sense to deal with the matter without any interference from me. Good evening Sir Hellsing." Then Quincey Harker hung up, and the only sound left was the deep croak of the dead phone.
Well, there you have it. The revamp of the first chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it! I currently have the second and third chapter revamped, but I still need a little more time to go over them, so they should be around soon. Thank you so much for reading and let me know what you think of the revamp.