Integra on her Death Bed.
Disclaimer: I don't own any material contained within this story. All copyrighted content remains the property of the person, people, or organization that holds the copyright. This story is solely for fun.
AN: Okay, this will likely be very short. And the first chapter will be the least funny in the series. But, hopefully, you still enjoy it and continue reading.
"We've done all we can for her." The surgeon informed the two vampires as he exited the mansion's operating room. "We got all the contaminated blood out, but... she's not out of the woods yet." The doctor cast a look back at the room where Sir Integra Hellsing laid, weak and unconscious. "The next few hours will tell; but for now, all we can do is wait... wait and pray."
Seras nearly broke out crying as she heard the news, but she managed to restrain her emotions to nothing more than a few tears that streamed down the side of her face. Pray? Yes, she would pray... even though she wasn't sure if God would listen to a vampire. There was still a chance, right?
Alucard's expression was like stone. He hardly displayed any emotion at all. But anyone who was reasonably close to the No-Life King would've known his master's current condition upset him just as much as it did his fledgling. Still, the ancient vampire would not bother with prayers. Even if God listened to the prayers of vampires, Alucard doubted it would do any good. The Lord had seen fit to take away everyone else the vampire had ever cared about... even before he became a creature of darkness. Why should his master be any different.
Alucard huffed, then looked down at Seras. At least he still had her. And she was like him, immortal, somewhere beyond Death's cold clutches. And heaven help any 'slayer' that tried to take her away.
Inside the operating room, Integra laid, hooked up to a multitude of beeping machines. She had an oxygen mask over her face. And despite her weak condition... or perhaps because of it, the long haired blonde woman slept more soundly than she had in months.
And as she slept, she dreamed. She dreamed of her first days as leader of the Hellsing organization, the death of her father, the betrayal of her uncle and the day when a little twelve year old orphan discovered the 'pet' vampire sleeping in her basement.
But Integra was not quite as alone as one might first suspect. For her time had come. She was to die that night, and with her the last blood descendant of Abraham Van-Helsing. That was what was suppose to happen. But since when did things EVER go the way they were suppose to?
Suddenly the temperature in Integra's room dropped five degrees, and a dark robed figure stepped through the far wall. In one hand he held an oversized scythe; in the other, a clipboard with a list of names on it. Every one above Integra's was already checked off.
"Okay, who do we have this time?" The figure causticly asked himself as he brought his list up and checked it. "Sir Integra Hellsing, huh? Alright, fellow..." He continued as he walked over to the knight's bed. "Time to be shoving off for the after lif-"
The figure stopped mid-word as he looked down at his latest 'fare'. This was no man. It was a woman... a beautiful woman. "What the... you can't possibly be SIR Integra Hellsing." He spoke at the unconscious woman.
"Oh, that's just great. The pencil pushers down in the filing department messed up... again." The figure sighed then bent down and took a moment to brush a hair out from in front of the woman's face. "Well, at least the trip wasn't a total loss." He said before turning and starting to walk away. "You get some rest... I'll go have a talk with the clerks and be back for your brother, cousin, uncle, father... whatever tomorrow.
"Sleep tight... whoever you are." Were the figure's parting words as he made a casual wave and stepped back through the wall.
Death finished the rest of his fares for the day and then went back to the Celestial Bureaucracy, where he worked. Once the spirit finished typing up his reports, he headed down to the file room to figure out just what the clerks had gotten wrong this time. It took fifteen minutes, five different clerks, one supervisor and, eventually, a picture before Death finally understood. Well, he still didn't completely understand. Why the heck would a woman have the title 'Sir' anyway? But after seeing the picture on file, the spirit was finally convinced that the mistake had actually been his own.
He was then forced to apologize to each of the clerks, most of whom were rather reluctant to accept his apologies. Even he had to admit that some of his comments, particularly the ones about dating mishaps that must've resulted from the clerks' inability to discern a male from a female, were a bit over the line. But finally, after 'donating' his last thirty dollars to buy some pizza's for the clerks lunch break, he was forgiven; and everything went back to normal... well as normal as things ever were at the Celestial Bureaucracy.
The next day, Death was suppose to correct his earlier mistake. However, that was not as easy as he thought it would be. 'Sir' Integra had woken up; and when the spirit returned to claim her, he found her sitting behind a desk, shouting orders like a maniac.
Her face was flushed. Her long, platinum-blonde hair flew around with every whipping motion of her head. Her royal-blue eyes were practically a flame. And she spoke... yelled and screamed with such passion. In short, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.
"Ah, crap!" The spirit exclaimed. She was so full of life. He couldn't take it all away from her. He just couldn't. He was crazy. He had to be. That was the only way to explain it. She was nearly foaming at the mouth, and he'd never been so aroused in his life... at least not while still wearing his robe. But he just couldn't help it. He was captivated by her, enchanted by her.
With a sigh, the spirit raised his clipbored and wrote 'undead' in the status box next to her name. It was the best thing he could think of. With an undead status, his bosses wouldn't question why he would return without her soul. And they'd never take the time out of their own 'busy schedules' to verify the report... at least Death hoped they wouldn't.
He cast one more look at the crazed, warrior woman before sighing again and heading off. He ached for her. He had to have her, but she'd never look twice at him. No, he couldn't just introduce himself. He needed help... help from the one man who might possibly be able to instruct him in how to win the woman over, the man who'd helped him get his last date, Peter Griffin.
Well, like I said, the future chapter(s) will be funnier. Just wait until you see/hear... read how Peter 'helps'. ;) This was mostly just to lay the ground work. But I still hope you enjoyed this chapter and got, at least, a mild kick out of some of it. Please review and let me know what you thought. Thanks.
Have a good day, and God bless.