Author's Note: This prologue is actually useless but I love it too much to not post it.

Disclaimer: Do you really need one? Of course I didn't create the Hellsing universe and characters.



"Scream for me love."

The pale hand around the woman's throat pressed her harder into the cold damp wall, causing her to choke.

"Fuck you," the woman spat, followed by such imaginative language, both sailor and poet would be put to shame.

The radiant man's face twisted into a scowl, leaving no trace of the beauty that had lead thousands of women to their deaths. His hand released the pale throat which had began to bruise but any hope for air and freedom was soon crushed as the back of that same hand slammed against the woman's cheek with unearthly force, smashing her skull and knocking out whatever air was left in her lungs.

"Especially disgusting language befitting only an especially disgusting human… I was planning on giving you an easy, beautiful death but I can only expect that your blood is equally disgusting."

With that, the beautiful man sauntered over to the barely conscious woman and smashed a white heeled boot into her stomach, tearing skin and organs. A silk handkerchief was pulled out to wipe the bloody boot and the woman heard the sigh of silk as it fluttered to the ground by her head, followed by two mysterious thuds. Glancing over, blue' eye widened as they observed the beautiful man's body, his decapitated head, and black boots so shiny, they perfectly reflected the beautiful blues. Straining to look up, the woman could not see anything but a massive crimson blob. Closing her eyes against the pain, all that she could do was trust the remaining minutes of her life to this stranger.

"You have lost too much blood, you will die," the newcomer blandly stated. "Do you wish to die?"

"No," the woman breathed.

"Then drink. Forever live your life in darkness, forever a cursed creature, forever a vampire."

With that, something cool was pressed to pale, bloodless lips and the woman sucked readily at the cool, sweet liquid that quenched a thirst that was previously unknown to her. Too soon, the sweet ambrosia was denied and her' eyes opened in confusion to take in the image of an emotionless man in a red suit.

"What is your name, little one?"


"An unusual name. It matches. Sleep, Seras."

But Seras did not need to be told. She was already asleep.

Seras opened her eyes to see nothing but black. Lazily wondering if one can say that seeing the absence of light is truly seeing, the images of last night slowly returned. Marveling at the clarity of her dream and the fact that it was so realistic that she had a ghostly ache where the beautiful man had drove his heel 

into her stomach, Seras laid a delicate hand over the ache to feel rough fabric. Seras gasped and bolted upright. It was gauze bandage and the pain was real.

Confused and afraid, the loss of her vision seemed to her to be torture. Her eyes were dry and ached as they strained against the darkness. Closing her eyes in defeat, Seras took long calming breaths although they seemed to have no effect on her racing heart.

"Panicking is worse than crying," she repeated like a mantra. Tears came but she was thankful because at least they soothed her eyes and calmed her mind.

"There is no darkness like this, I must have gone blind," she thought sadly. "At least I'm still alive. Pain is proof enough of that."

In the middle of her musings about life and pain, Seras realized that she could hear soft, rhythmic patters. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized that they were footsteps and they were coming closer. Perhaps the beautiful man was not dead after all. Or perhaps the man in red was keeping her to torture in retaliation for the beautiful man's death. She had wanted him dead after all. Maybe the man in red assumed that she killed him. Or perhaps she did indeed kill him. Time seemed to slow as the footsteps stopped and time seemed to slow as a door clicked as it was opened, flooding the room with light from the hall. Seras was blind again but she was thankful. She knew this pain and blindness was only temporary. She was not condemned to forever live in the dark after all.

"Please relax. You are safe," said the silhouetted figure.

Despite this assertion and man's calming voice, Seras could not relax. Especially since the shadowed figure began to torture her nose with the sharp smell of sulfur as candles were lit.

"I apologize my use of matches. I know how sensitive your nose is but I seemed to have misplaced my lighter. My name is Walter Dornez. I am the retainer of the Hellsing family and you are currently at the Hellsing Mansion."

The dashing elderly man smiled and despite knowing that the smile was fake and that appearances can be decieving, Seras could not help but relax just a bit.

"As I'm sure you have noticed, I took the liberty of undressing you and tending your wounds."

As a matter of fact, Seras had not noticed. With a blush, she modestly pulled the sheets over herself.

"The bathroom is through that door. I will leave so that you may make yourself presentable and then I will answer all your questions to the best of my abilities because I assume your master will not."

"Master?" Seras ventured.

"That is what you should call the one who saved you from death a human death. You are like his apprentice, of sorts," Walter explained.

"The man in red," breathed Seras.