Disclaimer—Kohta Hirano is the Master of the Hellsing universe—and I am NOT. And as I have said before, Alucard along with several other male character (such as L Lawliet, Argent, Jack Sparrow, the Phantom of the Opera, Hannibal Lector, Jareth the Goblin King, Harry Potter, A. X. L. Pendergast and Abel Nightroad) would be chained up in my basement, dripped in chocolate syrup and naturally like any fangirl, would be enjoying him every much…(laughs, rubbing hands together)

One Shot Title—Moon Blood


Synopsis—Alucard is thirsty, and his Master bleeds

Author's Notes—As mentioned in my Hellsing fan-fiction, Bloodlust—Alucard once attacked Sir Integra because of a certain biological issue…and so I wanted to write the segment, simply as a one-shot. I have one specific and personal problem whenever it comes to writing, I cannot do anything short and simple—so I am going out on a limb…Yes, I know this isn't as descriptive as other my stories, but I wanted to get it done or it would never go up. 

Please read and review…





It was winter in London, England—as thick fluffy coats of the whitest snow coated the ground in a frozen a timeless embrace, but only seasonally trapped in a world of rest and death. Icicles swathed empty branches and with every stroke of wind, clinked together in a strange, almost musical harmony. Despite this natural beauty there was one soul in the infamous and ominous Hellsing Manor that was not enthralled by it, but given certain changes, was terribly uneasy.

"Bloody hell," the young girl hissed, and even as she did so, the windows fogged heavily under her breath. It was none other than the newest director of the prodigious Hellsing Organization—Integra Fairbook Wingates Hellsing, who despite her title was trapped by her inexperience and uncertainty inside her private bathroom.

A dry laugh escaped her lips.

What a fall from grace, she thought misery. The Director of Hellsing, trapped in her bathroom not by Midians or ghouls—but rather from an otherwise normal condition. Lovely. Any other time, a situation like this might be considered funny, perhaps ironic, if it was anyone else.

But that was it—she was not like other people.


She was a Hellsing and this was nothing. Merely a moment in life that no doubt, will be reduced to nothing more than a memory, but until then, it was still prevalent and quite on her mind. What to do first, Integra wondered. As the thoughts and possible scenarios rambled endless inside her cranium, she pulled the pale baby blue robe closer. Her prayers were answered with the image of none other than Walter C. Dornez popped inside her mind. Yes, she exclaimed, He will know exactly what to do. Compare to everything else, this will be simply trivial. What would I do without him?

Integra jabbed the intercom button for forcefully and said, "Um…Walter, I am afraid that I need—," she stopped and corrected, "No! Require your presence and assistance immediately.

A short paused follow.

The Daughter of Hellsing added forcefully, "Like now."

A few minutes passed, which seemed to last like eternity before there was a knock at the door.


A pause and then it came much more persistent…Knock, knock.

Flying the door open, young Integra ran into a firm all dressed in a red trench coat. Looking up she gasped with her hand at her heart, "Alucard!" However, she recovered nicely, exhaling sharply and playfully joked, "You sly thing, you frightened me." His presence always made her defensive, almost as if she had something to prove against him, but in strange sense it was true, seeing how she was his Master and the vampire had made more than plenty comments rather or not, she could fulfill the duty. The main argument of course, regarded her sex—simply because she was female. "Besides," she said crossing her arms, "what are you doing here, vampire? I asked for Walter, not you. Make an effort to answer now."

"My humblest apologies," came his dry voice.

Integra narrowed her eyes at him and demanded, "I want an explanation

The vampire wheezed under his breath, "Walter is otherwise occupied, so he sent me for the time being. Now," he forced out the words, "whatever can I do for you, my Master."

This proves troublesome, the Hellsing-Heir thought licking her lips. "I appreciate you coming—but," she added quickly and firmly, "I need a human. A human…" Peering into his face, the words faded from her mouth and mind. Despite his boasted ego, the No-Life King looked different, perhaps ill was the more appropriate phase. Vampires are naturally pale, but his skin had a sickly translucent edge to it, and even his red eyes had lost their fervid luster. His chest rise and fell with each deliberate breath, funny considering the thought that he didn't need to breathe.

"Alucard," Integra noted tensely, "Are you feeling well?"

"Mmmm, what an excellent observer you are," he mused with a weak and reluctant smile.

"I demand to know what plagues you," she asked with her voice firm but concerned.

"I am thirsty," he complained with hungry lips, but there was noted desperation in his tone.

Integra raised a platinum eyebrow examining her pet. "Well," she begun in a smooth motherly voice, "as the Director of Hellsing, I need everyone…especially my trump-card to be in prime fit. A fresh shipment of blood came in this morning." Smiling lightly she slipped her hand in the curve of his back and gave him a firm push towards the door. Best to get rid of him. "So, you have my express permission to go and get yourself a fresh pint. It ought to do you good."

A dry laugh escaped his throat. "How ironic, I drained it dry."

Hearing this she quickly removed her hands as if she touched a hot iron. "What!?" She demanded in a hushed breath, "All of it? That was fifty pints. More than enough to last you 2 months!"

Laughing mechanically, Alucard turned on the spur of his heel to face his Master face-to-face. "Every last drop," he hissed low and darkly. "And my thirst lingers."

Integra shook her head, kept her pet at arm's length and warned, "Remember your distance, Alucard."

"Of course," he replied with his head bowed slightly in submission.

"Now, I will personally fetch Walter, as I originally requested and you," she jabbed him in the chest, "will remain here." As Integra went to fetch the Butler, who had a reasonable solution to every single inconvincible circumstance—a hand lashed out, gloved fingers whisking tightly around her upper arm and even through her cotton shirt, she could feel its coolness. She looked up to see a pair of ruby stones staring at her and there was an unrecognizable expression on his face, which frightened her. Perhaps it was curiosity, or anger? Was it just his hunger? "Alucard…" she whispered.

The No-Life King inched closer and placed a finger on her lips, silencing her.

"Shh…" he smoothed gently, almost fatherly.

He closed his eyes and took in a sniff around the air around her cheek. His nostrils flared. Speechless, she pulled the pale baby blue robes closer against the chill air that always seemed to follow wherever he went. Integra could feel the bristles on the nape of her neck stand erect and the hairs on her forearm brushed against her sleeve. A soft growl pleasure erupted from his throat. At once his eyes snapped open like two candles, glowing and dancing in the dark. A playful smile tugged on his lips as he quirked, "Master…are you bleeding?"

She blinked in disbelief. "No."

"Liar," he accused harshly. "I can smell it."

Pulling her arm free Integra hissed coldly, "I think your sense are clogged."

"Not likely." He smiled, looming over like a second shadow that had risen against the fleshy original. "I know blood."

"Remove yourself from my presence, you vampire-dog!" At the remark, his eyes darkened dangerous but the Hellsing refused to be intimated. "I am your Master."

At the mention of his servitude Alucard hissed, "Merely by chance—but," he added, "I believe in time, you will find that such a title is not glorious as it appears. There is always a price. What are you willingly to pay, Abraham?"

That unnerved to an extend that had never before been touched. "Your annoyance is enough." She finished, "You will maintain a respectable distance from me."

"Where it is?" he asked eagerly.

Too eagerly, she thought. "I have had enough of you, Alucard."

As she turned to exit the bathroom door, Alucard whisked in front of her blocking her movements with that damn smiling playing weakly on his lips. Integra stiffened, because from the day she discovered him and would forever play the part of his Master, Integra promised to herself that she would never submit to him. Never. He shuffled closer to her with his eyes gleaming like two precious rubies. "What a spite you are, Integra. Have I not be a good pet? Shouldn't my obedience be rewarded with a treat? Just a lick, I promise."

Somehow I seriously doubt that, Integra whispered to herself.

A pause followed.

Integra pointed an accusing finger at him and scolded as if he was a child who got his finger caught in the cookie jar. Bubbling with rage she was momentarily speechless and rolling her eyes she managed to hiss, "Look at you, Alucard. What an annoying sap you are. You are like a child, begging for a lick of the spoon after you already ate the cake."

"Tell me," he cooed sweetly, "implore me Master, where it is? Where are you bleeding?"

"Stop your tomfooling," she advised roughly.

Ignoring his presence, much less than existence she pushed past him left the bathroom, then the bedroom and finally into the ominous dark corridor. However, the abomination followed her like a second skin, never trailing farer than a couple feet. Sometimes, he was truly a dog, especially with his begging, stalking her like some half-starved animal and of course, him stiffing the air like a Bloodhound on a hot trail. His nose searched the passing air, desperately looking for such an erotic and sought-out perfume—virginal blood.

Following her out in the wall he whispered darkly, "There's something different about your scent, Master."

She said over her shoulder, "Like I care."

"Oh," he quirked, "now I know." A smile, dark and cryptic melted on his face. "Ah…" he cooed with delicious wickedness, "what a momentous occasion! How terribly intriguing. The child within is dying…as my Master is turning into a woman."

Abruptly, Integra halted in her tracks.

The vampire loomed closer with that damn smug look of triumph on his face. "No words needed, your face is priceless enough…Moon-Blood, my Master that is what it called."

"Menstruating, you idiot. Do not use that loose terminology with me."

"Your Menarche O?" he asked. 

He confessed angrily, "Yes! It is my first." Integra paused, gathering control over herself and calmly said and as plainly, "This is just another phase of life. A biological change, if you will. That and certainly nothing more."

Crossing his arms Alucard replied, "It means you are like a plum, ripe for the plucking."

"How crude of you!" she exclaimed, absolutely appalled. "I am most certainly not a hanging fruit."

He laughed. "Hanging, complete with thorns and poison in it seeds."

"Don't you look at me in such a manner." Integra said in an even but clearly shaken voice, "If you even think about taking bite, I will shoot you. Not just shoot you, but kill you."

Alucard correctly, "Not a bite, just a drink."

Recognizing that menacing look that she witness down in dungeon Integra cried out, "Get away from me. Go away." As the last word came from her mouth, Alucard was upon her in a flash of red and black, looming over her like the Grim Reaper himself, who had personally come to fetch her—but strangely, despite all his threats and plain intentions, Alucard did not touch her. Instead, he simply cornered her against the wall with his fangs inches from her pulsing body. The Daughter of Hellsing might have flinched an inch but other than that, Integra defiantly matched her eyes with his, almost as if to say I-dare-you.

"What an amiable, and perhaps foolish display of courage, Teggy," he tensed using her father's nickname for her, but in way that it did not sound fatherly, as was it original intentions. "I think Hellsing pride will be your demise, if not me."

"What an active imagination you have," Integra noted callously.

"At the moment it would be ill-advise to mock me."

Integra counterattacked, "You are pathetic."

His gloved hand slipped up and wrapped its long, thin fingers around her neck—tight enough to inflict the harm he could do. "Pity is self-destructive trait reserved for humans. I don't need it from you, Abraham." That was the second time Alucard had referred her by the name of her ancestor, Abraham Van Hellsing. "You are reluctant in your Hellsing duties…" and saying that he lifted up his free hand, displaying the signals of the Hellsing Seal, which were glowing brightly and appeared to be staking on the material. "Daddy must've wanted to protect his little girl, especially if he did not tell you about the Hellsing Seals…and especially what is needed to maintain them."

"And what might that be," she asked in a hushed whisper.

He was happy to indulge her curiosity and answered, "Blood. They were written in blood and must be renewed in the same ink. Yours, to be specific."

Father, why didn't you tell me? She asked, feeling betrayed and abandoned

"Knowing that, I imagine you would like a renew the Seal before things becoming," he paused adding, "unstable." Nose blushing a mere inch from her skin, Alucard breathed in her sweet intoxicating virginity scent, along with her sweat and something else, blood, which bloomed like a fragrant rose. "Now that you know the currency, I ask where in what location would you like to donate? Neck, wrist or," he paused looking down and finished, "someplace else?"

Integra rolled against him, "Get off me."

"There is no need to become hostile." The hem to her shirt was slowly lifted above her knee, as a child would undo a ribbon from a favored gift. He mused with sadistic glee, "How intriguing. I bet Abraham Van Hellsing is rolling in his grave. That pine-box of death. Wouldn't you say, Countess?"


"Alucard," she warned, hoping her voice did not quiver.

As the word registered inside her mind, a high-pitched snapping sound crackled, like a whip and echoed in the corridor like thunder. Gleamed like dancing silver, thin razor ropes wrapped around the No-Life King and sliced through his flesh and bone like a knife cutting through half-melted butter. Blood came down like rain, as the vampire was quartered, sliced in half at the wait and spilling his intestines on the floor and on Integra's shoes. Trying to catch his balance as his upper half fell backwards, Alucard latched his hand on her lower arm and pulled her along with him. With the resistance, there was a sickness snap as her ulna-bone broke.

Integra cried out but her voice died in her throat as a familiar figure came beside her—it was none other than the Butler, the infamous Angel of Death, Walter C. Dornez. Wires dangling from his hands he asked professionally, "Sir Integra Hellsing, are you well?"

"I always said you had a knack for timing," Alucard noted painfully, as he started to stuff his guts into his gaping abdomen. 

The Butler demanded, "Vampire! What were you doing?"

"Having some fun."

"That have better be a joke."

Alucard confessed, "Humor isn't my strong suit."

Integra wheezed, "Walter, don't waste for breath on the likes of him. He is nothing. Nothing."

Alucard gave her a dark look.

"You heard me, vampire. You are nothing." Wiping the blood from her split lip with the back of her hand, Integra replied in a kingly voice, "Nothing, as that's all you shall ever be. Remember—when you surpass your usefulness, I-will-be-the-death-of-you, O No-Life King…and as an Hellsing I will put you down, like a rabid sick dog."

"We shall see, Countess."

"Ignore him." He advised. "Besides it will take him a while to gather up his parts." Helping Integra to her wobbling feet and cradling her broken arm, he asked, "Whatever did you need my presence and assistant with, young Integra."

"She is bleeding, Walter. Given her age, you should suspect its origins," the No-Life King hissed with as much venom as his glaze.

"Ah," he mused nervously. "I shall go and get you some supplies for that." Walter humbled a thanks to the Lord, he refuse to consider the possibilities if he had not intervene in a timely matter. With a broken arm and a slit lip, she had certainty gotten off lucky. "And as for you!" The Angel of Death pointed at the Alucard and reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled out a Medical-Blood bag and threw it defiantly at him. "There. A packet of Hellsing blood. Go and lick your wounds in your coffin."

Alucard seized it like a mad dog and gorged himself on him. It may have been from the place he wanted, but it tasted just as fine.


I am trying to write more shots, so it was and I hoped you enjoyed it.

Menarche O—Medical term for the every first period. I screamed like a banshee when I had mine. Over all, a traumatizing experience.