This is Hellsing chapter 1 rewrite three

Integra Hellsing sat at her desk glaring at the seemingly innocent letter clenched in her hand. It was written on clearly expensive paper in small, neat handwriting. The royal crest sitting proudly at the top corner left no doubt as to the identity of the sender. It was not the sender, but the contents that had put the scowl on the young woman's face.

Dear Sir Hellsing,

I hope this letter finds you well. The restoration of the palace is going smoothly, though the corgies dislike the noise.

The reason for this letter is that it has come to my attention that there is no plan for if the public should find out about the Hellsing organization. It seems to me that any potential panic could be lessened if there was a way to quickly give the public accurate information. I have consulted with my various advisors, and it has been decided that the simplest way of doing this would be to make a documentary detailing the day to day workings of your esteemed institution. A film crew will be contacting you in the next few days to make the necessary arrangements. I hope this will not be too much of an inconvenience.

Yours most sincerely,

Queen Elizabeth ll

If people ever found out that vampire and other supernatural creatures were real, Integra highly doubted a damn documentary was going to stop them from panicking. Dozens of horrific scenarios flashed through her mind, ranging from some unintentional maiming by the Wild Geese to some bizarre catastrophe brought on by Alucard's attempts to entertain himself between missions. One such attempt had put a visiting MP in traction for six months. Integra still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, accounts varied, but it had involved a catapult and extensive structural damage to the manor. Suffice to say, Alucard and normal people did not mix.

Integra picked up her phone and dialed.

"Hello?" said a cultured, elderly voice.

"Your majesty," Integra began politely, "this is Sir Hellsing."

"Ah, Sir Hellsing! How are you?" asked the queen.

"I'm fine, ma'am." Integra took a cigar from the box on her desk, wishing to be done with the useless pleasantries.

Unfortunately, that was not to be. The ageing monarch was in a particularly chatty mood and asked questions about everything from Integra's work to Walter's health. She lit her cigar and began smoking it, savoring the buzz from the nicotine hitting her system. It was all Integra could do to keep from grinding her teeth.

"So, to what do I owe this lovely call?" the monarch asked, unintentionally letting her tone betray her curiosity.

You know exactly why I'm calling, you exasperating old bat, Integra thought irritably. "I'm calling about the documentary. I don't think it would be a good idea to have a camera crew following my people around. The work we do is very dangerous and my people can't afford to be distracted having to babysit a bunch of civilians in combat."

"I wasn't suggesting you take them out into the field, dear," the queen said with what Integra could have sworn was a small snort," I meant a couple interviews, maybe a combat demonstration."

"That's still too dangerous, ma'am, the manor's already been attacked once." Integra wondered if the queen had any sense as to just how dangerous the manor was already without having to supervise the film crew.

This went on for a few more minutes until the queen suddenly said, "I have an idea, why not get one of your men to do it? That way you don't have to worry about anyone getting underfoot."

Integra paused. She couldn't really come up with a good reason why that wouldn't work. The queen wasn't going to back down on this, that much was obvious. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Integra reached a decision.

"That, I can live with. Is there a deadline on this?"

"By the end of the week would be optimal. Would that be a problem?" the monarch asked.

"Not at all, your majesty. Good bye," Integra replied wearily.

Hanging up the phone, Integra leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers.

"Walter!" she called.

The Hellsing butler appeared silently and made his way to stand in front of Integra's desk.

"You called, sir?" the elderly man asked, politely.

"Yes, could you ask Seras to come here, please?"

"Of course, sir." Walter replied with a nod of his head. He had worked for Integra long enough to know that whenever he was called, it was urgent.

He left and a few minutes later, a pretty young woman entered the room and took his place in front of the desk.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" she said cheerfully standing to attention, large blue eyes shining with curiosity.

Seras Victoria was a small, pixy-like woman with short blond hair and delicately pointed features. She wore a tan military uniform, leather gloves, and combat boots. Looking at her, you'd never suspect she could tear someone apart like wet tissue paper.

"Yes Seras, I have a mission for you." Integra lit another cigar and took another puff or two on it.

"Really?" she said, excited. Seras had never had her own mission before. She was eager to prove herself.

"Yes, the queen wants us to make a documentary about Hellsing and I'm putting you in charge of it."

Seras blinked. "Isn't Hellsing a secret organization?" she asked, nonplussed.

Seras had to admit that she had never been comfortable in Integra's office. It was an exquisite example of a comfortable Victorian study. There was a fireplace on one wall with a lovely granite mantelpiece, and the walls were obscured by beautiful floor to ceiling bookcases. Comfortable chairs were placed in convenient places around the room. Integra's mahogany desk sat in front of a pair of large windows whose thick curtains had been considerately closed before Seras' arrival to spare her the discomfort of the sun's rays. It was too innocent, as though the room itself was trying to conceal the dark and often terrible decisions its occupants had made over the decades.

"Yes, but that could change. The queen feels that this documentary would sooth any concerns the public may have if they were to ever learn of our existence." Integra replied, brushing a strand of ashy blond hair out of her face.

Seras doubted a documentary would be enough to stave off the inevitable panic that would ensue if the world ever found out that vampires were real. History and Seras's own personal experience showed that when humans felt threatened by something, their first inclination was to eliminate the perceived threat. On the night she had met her master, Seras herself had tried to shoot the vampire when she realized that he wasn't human, rather than actually try to ascertain why he was there.

"I don't know how to make a documentary, sir, not a professional one," Seras said, hesitantly.

"I have confidence in your abilities, Seras. Figure it out," Integra said, fixing the draculina with an icy blue stare. Integra knew that Seras was strong willed, having seen her complete missions, even when the odds were against her. To Integra, it gave her a small token of assurance that Seras would be in charge of the task ahead. It wasn't like she didn't have anyone else to choose for the mission, but rather that this mission's peculiarities might be better handled by someone like Seras. After all, Seras was different from the others, she had a maturity that others didn't have in addition to her childlike persona.

Seras blushed at the vote of confidence. She had an enormous amount of respect for Sir Integra. She also admired the woman's strength and courage, her masterful control of any situation she found herself in. That Integra would entrust this task to her meant a lot.

"Yes, sir," she said with a salute.

"Good, go see Walter about finding a video camera and keep shenanigans to a minimum."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Seras turned and left. As she went to go find Walter, Seras began to see how this could be a lot of fun. An eerie smile soon graced her features.