Alright, this is a fanfic about an OC I thought up to pass the time. She was originally in a different situation, but I felt like this made for a better story. I have some idea of where it's going, though not much of one. I really hope to stay away from the romance genre, although I'm not really sure what genres it will fall into.
This is actually an edited version of the first chapter, I had it up before but hadn't really had a chance to re-read it. So here it is, slightly better, or at least I think so.
I really don't find this necessary, as it's extremely obvious, but I don't own Hellsing. Or Alucard, as much as I'd like to. I tried to keep him in character because he's awesome as is.
I waited impatiently in a line of slightly more than ten people to order my lunch. I had taken a rare break from studying in my dormitory room at the behest of my roommate. She had been worried that I didn't get out often enough and had recommended one of the small bistros affiliated with the university. I was beginning to regret following her advice.
But then I was reminded of the supposed quality of the food by the number of non-student locals in line and sitting at the scattered tables. For a restaurant attached to a university to draw anything but half-starved college kids, it had to be pretty damn good. I contented myself with listening to the overlapping conversations around me, as I had no companions of my own with whom I could add another layer to the peaceful chatter that filled the inviting space.
In the next instant, that peaceful chatter was overwhelmed by a noise that I recognized, a sudden burst of sound that violently drew me from my thoughts of sandwiches and essays. The sound repeated itself rapidly, and someone behind me began to scream, shattering the trance of shock and incredulity that had hung over the occupants of the bistro. A searing pain ripped through my shoulder as bodies began to fall to the ground around me.
I could no longer delude myself that I had misinterpreted the sound of the first gunshot; there was indeed someone spraying what seemed to be automatic rounds into the crowd of fear addled and instinct driven bodies, scrambling over one another in a desperate and futile bid for self-preservation. Aside from a distant emergency exit through the small kitchen in an unfamiliar back room, the only escape route was effectively blocked by the gunman as he stood in the front entryway facing in.
Two more bullets pierced my body, one in the hip and one in the leg, and my body crumpled on legs that could no longer support weight. Through the cloud of pain I was dimly aware of the assailant reloading his weapon. Shots rang out again and blood pooled the ground, a stray bullet piercing my chest. What felt like hours passed as the madman continually reloaded and emptied his clip, all the while laughing maniacally. By now, I was certain that there was no one left standing, all most likely mortally wounded if the silence that surrounded me was any indicator.
My helplessness and the injustice of it all infuriated me, although I was far too weak to display the full range of my emotions. I was studying abroad in England for only this one semester, and it just so happened that a mentally disturbed man with a gun would attack the only place I had gone besides from my classrooms in weeks. What had I done to deserve the misfortune, the injustice of it all?
Something stirred around me, my own blood mixing with the blood of the bodies around me. It swirled, slowly encircling my body, and I could hear the voices of the souls that it contained.
You don't deserve it.
You shouldn't die like this.
You can't die like this.
It's too late for us.
Take our lives and live them as your own.
Yes, the blood…
The gunman had stopped laughing at some point. He looked on in obvious horror as I invested the last of my fading strength in moving my mouth to the floor, my tongue snaking out to lap at the blood that was swirling around me of its own accord. It was absorbed directly into my very soul, transforming my body and giving me strength. My teeth lengthened into fangs and my eyes shown with an eerie crimson glow as I glanced up at the terrified man. As my eyes met his, he screamed and turned to escape, his gaze no longer transfixed on the monster I had become. Before he could travel more than a few steps, I took him in my grasp by the neck with uncanny speed and strength.
He's the one who killed you.
Who killed us.
He killed us.
Stole our futures.
Make him feel the pain that we felt!
An insane grin warped my features; I was more than willing to answer the demands of my comrades. The hand grasping his neck tightened its grip almost of its own accord as I pulled him closer to me, his screams of agony and terror the sweetest music to my ears. As I pulled his neck to my eagerly awaiting mouth; the smell of his fear permeated his blood, causing my fangs to lengthen in longing in desire. But I was not about to give him the satisfaction of a swift death. I bit down, my teeth passing first through skin, followed in slow succession by muscle, arteries, the trachea, the esophagus, to finally close on hard bone. A gargled scream escaped through the torn opening in his throat as I ground my teeth together on his spine, slowly closing my jaws until I was exerting enough pressure to crush the vertebrae that were the sole tether between his head and his body. I stopped just short of doing so, relieving the pressure only slightly to instead begin suckling the rent flesh, drawing heavily until his heart struggled to pump blood that was no longer in his veins. Only then did I stab my hand through his chest and into his heart, ending his life with certainty.
His limp body fell from my grasp as I stepped back to admire my work, my comrades congratulating me on a wonderfully exacted revenge. My tongue swirled about in my mouth, savoring the last tastes of the human blood, sweetened with the fear I had instilled in his heart.
I was forcibly pulled from my reverie by the sound of sirens, still in the distance but approaching quickly. It mystified me how the police could only be arriving just now; I knew that it had to have been at least half an hour since the first gun shot.
They're here to save us!
But what from?
It doesn't matter.
But won't they be suspicious?
The only one left.
The real culprit is dead.
But the police are good people!
They'll suspect us.
They'll interrogate us.
They'll punish us for the choice to live.
They'll kill us.
They'll kill us!
I fled from the scene, finding myself able to pass through walls and solid objects with ease, eager to escape the now suffocating confines of the once welcoming space, now spattered with blood and littered with corpses. A part of me was screaming to stop, to tell the police everything that had happened, to be told that everything was going to be all right. But the dominant, logical part of my brain was certain that my comrades were right, that I would be suspected as the only one alive, that I would be punished for taking the lives of others even if offered or in self-defense. And so, I ran, far surpassing human ability in terms of both speed and stamina. But I could not keep up the pace forever even in my new state of existence, collapsing several miles away in a dark alley, gasping for unnecessary air. After slowing my breath, I attempted to stand only to collapse once more, my legs burning from exertion.
It's all right, you tried your best.
I'm sure we're far enough away.
There's nothing to trace to you.
No path to where we are.
You feel it, don't you.
We still can't die here.
I gasped, a strangled scream rising in my throat. I could feel the presence and the hostility it emanated, though the mechanism of this new sense escaped me. I could tell that it was not human, and that it was moving towards me. Fast. I flew to my feet and took off running as though I had not been struggling to even stand moments before, raw survival instinct coursing through my body and drawing out what lest dregs of strength remained.
But this second burst of speed was not nearly as fast as the first. Something flew from behind me, tackling me to the ground as I screamed. I struggled as strong limbs pinned me to the asphalt that made up the road of the alleyway, succeeding only in rotating myself to face my assailant. It was a man, tall and lithe, his thin frame severely contradicting the incredible strength that he was exerting, with ridiculously pale skin and raven hair. I was not surprised to see that his eyes shown the same crimson as my own, but surprise and terror are far from mutually exclusive. I continued to writhe beneath him, beginning to snap my jaws attempting to reach his neck with my fangs as anger overwhelmed my fear, swiftly becoming the dominant emotion shining through my eyes.
I was distracted from my growing bloodlust when he chuckled, a slow rumbling sound from deep within his chest. I halted my efforts, no longer able to detect the hostility previously radiating off of him, and grew even more confused as he began laughing heartily.
He must be mad.
I was distracted from the internal dialogue as the subject of their discussion all but released me, standing both of us on our feet so that he was looking directly into my eyes. I glared at him defiantly, still not entirely sure of his intentions, as he seemed to search my eyes for something. His face split into a grin wider than any smile should ever be; he apparently liked what he had found.
"You have an amazing amount of will power to have turned into a vampire without the help of another."His eyes twinkled with amusement as he continued, "It is, after all, giving up that kills people." He laughed as though at a private joke. "Do you want to die?"
His sudden question startled me. It made me remember the hostility that I had felt coming off of him in waves, remember that he was most likely here to kill me. But I knew my answer without any thought, gasping out the words that burst from within me.
"No. I refuse to."
I very much appreciate any sort of feedback, both positive and negative. I'm sort of looking for someone to tell me what genre it should be... Anyway, please review!