Disclaimer—I have no legal rights to Hellsing.

Synopsis—Sent to Japan on a diplomatic task, Hellsing find themselves unwillingly paired with and competing against their adversary, Iscariot...and soon face-to-face with their personal Judas.

Chapter Title—New Beginning

Rating—PG-13 to R, for crude language, sexual conduct and of course, violence.

Author's Notes—Like always, this story originated from a dream of mine, which of course are awesome and beyond words. Anyways, when referring to Hellsing's Judas I am of courses peaking about the amine, order 13 Hellfire when Sir Integra is arrested after the tragic and bloody struggle with Incognito at the Tower of London. Near the end, it said that the betrayer was never discovered, so I thought I would solve the riddle myself—of course with some assistance from creative liberties and access to . This really isn't a sequel to Bloodlust; instead, I try to write my stories in such a way so anyone can read them in any order. When I finished Bloodlust I posted 5 stories for my readers to choose from and basically there was a three-way tie and this story was among them. So I am posting this and The Dying Rose at the same time, so please be patient with me and my updates. In between whenever I have a rough spot I might throw in some one shots.

Remember this sign—"O"—means there's a footnote at the end of the chapter.



OOONew Beginning

--London, England

--Buckingham Palace



A hard voice interrupted, silencing the voice with a cool and hard tone, Gentleman, I have had enough of this prattle."

All eyes, including that of Stephen Rhoades O were focused entirely on the woman dressed in a finely cut black suit with a blood-red ascot tied tightly around her neck. Two sapphire-stone eyes shinned brightly and with about as much warmth as her voice, "I feel somewhat incline to remind you the reason of our existence—for the sole purpose of erasing all satanic and supernatural threats against the church and crown. That is the function, sirs." That Lady paused, exhaling a sign as she tired to clam her boiling nerves and erase all murderous thoughts from her mind. "My jurisdiction lies solely in Britannia.O"

"But Sir Integra you must consider—" a Protestant Knight protested.

Dressed like Walter C. Dornez, who stood on the opposite side next to the Hellsing Director—with a starched white-collar shirt, black suit and tie, hands clasped behind his back, Rhoades chastised the man to himself, You don't know when to cry stop to your tongue, fool. No doubt your tongue shall be the death of you.

While he was a Blood-Concubine, Rhoades self-discovered a tool that played a vital role in his survival…that while his blood and body belonged to the Midians of The Covenant Court—his mind did not. His thoughts were solely his own. Eyes averted downwards in the typical submissive pose of a Blood-Concubine, Rhoades knew that freedom had a price and like life could easily be stripped away, but inside his mind he could block out the pain, craft the most hideous deaths of his captors and insult them. Now required by his newest Master, and a human nonetheless, Rhoades accompanied her to Buckingham Palace for an immediate and urgent conference with the remaining Protestant Knights. Things at the Hellsing Manor had been rough at his arrival, and after all who could blame them? Being welcomed into the Hellsing organization was a long and laborious activity—stripped-searched, probed, interrogated for hours and then at last, brought to Sir Hellsing who said "Welcome to Hellsing, young Mr. Rhoades."

It was a new beginning.

Despite their first thoughts, Rhoades had no traitorous agenda against the Hellsing Organization when he revealed himself to its Mistress and her trump card, the Nosferatu Alucard. Fifteen years under the will and whim of The Covenant, he wanted nothing else than glorious vengeance and when he witnessed Sir Integra in all her splendor and majestic respect, he swore she was an angel. His angel. A sign sent from whatever entity to guide him against his previous owners and save a friend of his O.

Rhoades, regardless of what Alucard said, was not a secret admirer of Sir Integra Hellsing—he merely wanted to serve against the supernatural spites that plagued the world, especially against forms from The Covenant. He promised, "At your humble and eager service, Sir Integra Fairbook Wingates Hellsing. I am yours to do as you will…"

Like with any of his Masters, he would be her vessel to do as she pleased.

Recently employed by the Hellsing Organization, Rhoades had learned very much about his Master and even in 2 days he knew, just knew that she had enough of this endless farce 15 minutes ago. The Royal Order conference was beginning to look a like a complete, utter waste of her time and effort. There was only one perk in being a Blood-Concubine of The Covenant, he was a proficient observer, and better than a behavioral-psychologist.

With one sharp movement she raised her gloved hand and silenced the man's blubbering nonsense. Closing her eyes, she exhaled and desperately tried to ignore the throbbing pain that only intensified with each passing pulse. Perfect, an approaching migraine—but Rhoades, lucky for him had a full bottle of aspirin in his left jacket pocket.

Sweat glistering on his forehead from the heated debate, Sir Eglamour Wood raised up his hands as a gesture of peace and said in a calm voice, "There is no need to be hostile, Madame—we have no conscious intention to be insulting towards the Hellsing Organization. Instead", he paused, "Britannia is indebted to you and your family." Again, another blabbering idiot.

"Funny, I am the one who feels enslaved," Integra noted stiffly.

A verse from the Black Veil popped in his head, "Whom I am indebted is whom I serve" O —somehow, it seemed appropriate given the new circumstance.

While the innocent masses had been seemingly unaware of the Hellsing Organization, expect for the monthly article in the tabloid Sun Cornier and the name in Bram Stoker's Dracula—but no one would, or much less could, believe the ramblings of a newspaper that boast the existence of aliens, Loch-Ness and werewolves, or of the fictional writing of an Irishman. Such evidence would prove to be tangible, but recently was growing ever persistent, annoying and surprisingly, better. Not that it would even matter, since every shred of possible support had been and would always be seized by MI5 and Media Management. Rhoades understood that the Hellsing-Daughter could handle them but it was this new change and this demand that would boil her blood.

Integra whipped out a thin cigar and Rhoades jumped forward lighting for her, and once done returned to his spot. Those things are going to kill her. She took a calculated puff from her smoldering cigar and whispered as wisps of smoked danced from her lips, "After listening to the Royal Order, the reason for my doubt and disagreement is quite simple—I will not send my men on a wild goose chase, especially in a foreign land, who's dilemma is not my own." 

Rhoades watched silently as the Royal Order of Protestant Knights jumped to their feet and voiced their complaints. He wondered how anything ever got done in England, especially with the obstruction known as pride and politics standing in the way. Pride and politics, he thought, it really isn't different than The Covenant.

Sir Islands stopped the debate with a cool and smooth tone, "Enough, we can conduct a civil debate—after we are English." Small, sensitive laughter erupted among the Royal Order at this remark but quickly settled into looming silence. 

Dropping his head Sir Islands replied grimly, "This peace from Millennium, I fear is the calm before the storm…and you must, Sir Hellsing take that into account."

"You mistake me, sirs if you believe I do not fear that as well. Therefore," she added sternly, "that is why the focal point of the Hellsing Organization would be focus ever more so on that target. Millennium is my concern."

"Please," McKellen pleaded, "do not make this a personal vendetta."

Hell hath known no fury of that of a woman's scorn, Rhoades mused, especially that of the Sir Integra Fairbook Wingates Hellsing—but she knew the line between blinded vengeance and civic duty, even if she was flirting dangerously close on the border.

"Please, let us focus at the facts and not assumptions without evidence, even if they are with probable cause." He paused giving each member a deliberate look and then continued, "Shall we review the circumstance at hand?"

Eyes looking at the marble floor, Rhoades shook his head, You are only rubbing salt in the wound. Adding gasoline to the raging fire.

"Since Japan was part of the Axis Powers during the second World War…Umanosuke Tsuruoka and Norihiko Gahosha, who head up the Department of Paranormal Research and Development—like us," he emphasized, "have found themselves forced into this game with Millennium. Their situation is not unlike ours, and the only difference is that we separated only by geological features."

Integra Hellsing fired back, "England has enough problems to keep us occupied, therefore we cannot expunge our resources elsewhere."

"Cannot or will not?" challenged Lord Lexmark, a man with a fox-eyes and a disposition, which only was a thorn in her side.

Rhoades knew that if he weren't the Duchess's favorite and most influential nephew in Parliament, Sir Integra would gladly throttle him personally. Hearing second-hand from Walter, at the annual Foxhunt match in Richmond, Lord Lexmark had repeatedly made sexual advancements towards her, which she dismissed first with some firm words, and then later now, an even firmer knee in the groin. From then, things only got worse. After she crushed him in poker, the man made a degrading remark that Sir Integra Hellsing should find her womanly place in a man's bed, and better yet, on her knees. Of course, in public he behaved like the perfect Englishman who stepped out of Jane Austen romantic novels; however, reality was less than glamorous. As always, the lie is more alluring than the truth, he thought.

For some odd reason, he reminded her of Enrico Maxwell, which of course, only intensified her dislike of him, even more.

Continuing Lord Lexmark smiled kindly, "I just wonder if you are reluctant in performing your civic duty as the Director of Hellsing or even as an Englishwoman—for Queen and country."

"Reluctant is hardly the word, sir," she replied purposely dropping his formal title of Lord. "Calculating, would be more appropriate. Unlike you and remaining members of this committee, I am merely looking at all of my cards before taking a drastic action."

Sir Island cleared his throat and said carefully, "Did I mention that Iscariot has been called as well?"

Rhoades raised his eyes at the sound of the name—Iscariot.

Integra's eyes snapped up and she breathed, "No. You seemed to have failed to mention that, sir. Section XIII of Iscariot, you say?

"Of course," came that odious Italian voice.

As if things could get any worse, Rhoades groaned.

Standing at the entrance was none other than the Archbishop himself, Enrico Orlando Maxwell.




There it is, chapter 1 for Two-Faced. At first I had no intentions of having Rhoades' point-of-view and although he is not a original character of the Hellsing-universe, I thought he should a have a bit more in the story than just someone who tags along. Yes, he does become a liaison between the Hellsing Organization and The Covenant. As I said in Bloodlust he will NOT be a main character or a Mary-Sue, instead, he pops up once in awhile. Little here, and a little there. As you can tell, he likes personally verbalizes his thoughts—because it true, your thoughts are yours and the mind is a fantastic instrument. I remember, whenever my parents were "trying" to teach me a valuable lesson I would just pretend like I was listening, but inside my head I was not even there. I was somewhere else completely. Perhaps, I am not proficient as Rhoades, because their words seemed to get through to me.

Nest chapter—A Wager


Stephen Rhoades O—Yes, he is the young man from the Blood-Bar, who is just as vengeful if not more against the vampires than Sir Integra Hellsing. However, this may be the element to his downfall. He will have a much bigger part in The Dying Rose, as his true intention spring to life. Before anyone asks, he is not the Judas. Nor does he or will have any traitorous thoughts against Hellsing. When I think about, he has a sad story.

Britannia.O—Old name for the island of Great Britain.

A sign sent from whatever entity to guide him against his previous owners and save a friend of his O—If you read Bloodlust than you have already meet his friend, Yvette—the Blind Seer, who like Rhoades will have a bigger role in The Dying Rose. She also has a sad story. 

"Whom I am indebted is whom I serve" O—Actually, I believe this is a line from the Holy Bible.