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Chapter Text

The door opened and a woman stepped in. The most notable thing about her was her long blonde hair. If the men had cared to look and think, they’d notice that she cast no shadow, despite the light coming through the door behind her. Her vibrant blue eyes narrowed as she saw what was being done to the woman’s corpse.

‘Pathetic.’ She spoke with a Romanian accent. ‘Murdering a family and terrorising their young child before you kill her too.’

There was a whimper from the girl in question. She was curled up on the floor, pain in her stomach and lying in a pool of red. At seven years old, she didn’t fully comprehend what was happening here. All she’d been able to do was react – and she reacted much more strongly than these men had anticipated.

‘I’m encouraged that she put that fork in your eye.’ The woman went on. ‘But, as I said to some of my brethren, you’re not worthy for your lives.’ In the next instant, she’d grabbed the child, threw her back into the wardrobe and closed the door to block the girl’s view. ‘So allow me to take it away.’

The small child inside heard laughter from the monsters. Inhuman noises followed – screaming and snarling. The girl clamped her hands over her ears and jammed her eyes shut. She whimpered and rocked herself. ‘Mummy…daddy…’ She wished this was just a horrible nightmare. She wanted to wake up and find everything back to normal.

Then the noise stopped. She trembled. The door opened again and she jerked her head up again. She was expecting to see those monsters again. Instead, the woman stood there, wiping her hands on her jeans. There was blood splattered on her. Fearfully, the girl went to look past her.

‘Uh-uh.’ The woman moved her leg, blocking the girl’s view. ‘I think you’ve already seen far too much.’ She pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. ‘I’m going to remove you from the house, so shut your eyes.’

The girl jammed her eyes shut. Everything was a blur after that. She was handed from one person to the next. Someone looked at her belly and then bandages were wrapped around it and she heard the word “ambulance”. At some point, a blanket was wrapped around her and a mug of hot chocolate was pressed into her hands. When she was able to refocus, finally, she saw the neighbours were all out on the street. There were a few police cars around and the woman was speaking to some officers.

She curled in on herself and whimpered. Keeping her eyes glued on the woman, though, she sipped at the hot chocolate. Normally such a thing would make her feel better. Right now, though, she just felt numb. It was as if she had already cried out all her tears, but she couldn’t remember crying.

In fact…in a lot of ways, it felt like she wasn’t in her own body anymore. She felt like she was just watching and all of this was happening to somebody else. She was barely even aware of people talking to her. They seemed to be asking her pointless questions anyway. The only person that seemed real was the woman who had come in and saved her.

The woman suddenly turned. Her mouth moved and one of the officers nodded and walked over to the barrier. She watched them go to the barrier, where people were being held back and speak to a man who’d just pushed his way to the front of the crowd. They spoke for a short moment, the man lifted a card before the officer lifted the tape and the man ducked under it.

‘Crina,’ he spoke to the woman, ‘I got here as quickly as I could.’

‘I thought you would.’ The woman pointed to the girl. ‘She’s over there.’

The man smiled in a reassuring way and walked over to her. ‘Hello. I’m Dr. Alice.’ He crouched down. ‘And what’s your name?’

‘…Seras.’ Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

‘Well, Seras, can you tell me what happened?’

Seras opened her mouth, but nothing came out. All she heard was a choked-up sound. Her eyes burned but no tears came. Dr. Alice nodded and straightened up. ‘It’s all right. I’ll come back later and talk to you, all right?’

Seras nodded.

Dr. Alice did come back. Even when Seras was shipped off to the orphanage, he made regular visits. They would sit in a room by themselves and talk about what happened. Seras was given strict instructions to never tell anyone anything but the cover-up story which the woman had told the police.

The house had caught fire. Her parents had become trapped. The woman had run into the house and managed to pull Seras out of the building. She wouldn’t questions how they explained away the blood for years. By then, she would know the answer.

They had to lie. Dr. Alice made that clear. ‘It’s more for Crina’s sake. She comes from a very different world and she’s a woman of short temper. Her version of justice would be seen as savage by this world. They wouldn’t understand it, nor would they want to. But sometimes, the only way to make someone stop is to put them in the ground.’

Seras looked forward to his visits. The other children and the staff of the orphanage were cruel to her, but Dr. Alice was kind. He understood what she’d been through. He understood her pain. He didn’t blame her for lashing out like the others did; he was the one who taught her to manage her trigger responses.

Seras was able to move on, put the tragedy in her past, and become a police officer just like her father. That was until her unit were sent into the village of Cheddar. When they arrived, Seras immediately had a bad feeling. Her skin crawled and her senses became hyperaware. But they were given orders to march in. The town was completely deserted. Seras still felt eyes on the back of her neck.

Then they came to the church.

The moment Seras saw the eyes, she knew. Vampire. Dr. Alice had been a demon hunter, well-versed in vampires and she’d ended up finding out about that. What vampires really were and what they could do. And this one was clearly rogue. This was only the D-11 unit. They were in over their heads! The vampire clicked and Seras watched as rows of…were they people? She didn’t think so. They looked more like zombies. At any rate, they stood up and began advancing on her and her fellow officers.

Dr. Alice’s words came back to her. ‘When killing a vampire, we go for the head or the heart.’ Seras was the first one to start shooting. All the same, she knew it was pointless. They kept coming, no matter how many bullets tore through them. They’d have to run.

The woman strode through the woods.

The time had come. There was only one member of the Hellsing line left. She finally had enough information. Now they were here. It was time for her to draw their attention to herself. The best way to do that was to kill this vampire and their ghouls. She was sure Hellsing would find an advantage in a creature like her. That would place her in the perfect place.

There was one human left from the D-11 task force. Hm. Smells familiar. The woman came out onto the grassy knoll and slowed to a jog. Oh, that was why she smelt familiar! That was the same girl she’d called David Alice for – the one in the wardrobe. Turned out, her job had gotten her into this mess.

The vampire – masquerading as a priest – had her by the neck and was ranting about violating her. After what had happened to the girl’s mother, she should have been paralysed in fear by now. Instead, she gripped the arm around her neck and continued struggling against the hold he had on her.

But a mere human could never escape alone.

‘Do you really love the sound of your own voice?’ Crina walked down. ‘You’re certainly cocky, I’ll give you that. Most would be more dubious about killing off the population of an entire town.’

The vampire’s head snapped up. He looked annoyed. The girl – Seras Victoria, if she recalled right – looked over in surprise. Recognition flared across her eyes. So she hadn’t repressed the memory. Humans sometimes did that after an attack like that. And, clearly, she was more aware of the danger she was in than her cohort would have been, judging by the way her eyes kept flicking to the vampire’s teeth. David had mentioned that vampires had come up. How, she had no idea.

‘Who the hell are you?’ the vampire demanded.

‘Do you really care?’ she asked doubtfully.

‘No.’ The vampire smirked again and clicked.

The ghouls lifted their firearms and aimed. They opened fire. The woman moved faster than bullets though. She leapt through the air, phasing through any bullets that might get in her way. With practiced ease, she shot through the ghouls. Her clenched fists punched through her skulls. While she was doing this, she was aware of Hellsing arriving…and then freezing.

She stopped in front of the sneering vampire. The ghouls dropped behind her. They didn’t get up. Hellsing had frozen right where they had moved in, more from shock. The vampire nearly jumped out of his skin. She snapped her hand out and ripped the vampire’s arm off, effectively freeing Seras. The human girl gave a yelp of surprise.

‘Pardon me, Padre, but allow me to relieve you of your hostage.’ She grabbed Seras around the waist and yanked her away from the vampire. She crossed the field and spun the human around behind her. Seras stumbled and fell onto the grass.

The woman glanced over at Hellsing. ‘Pardon me again.’ She extended her hand and a rifle loaded with blessed bullets flew from them into her hand. She caught it, swung it around and took aim. ‘Any last words, Padre?’

‘Wait!’ He lifted his remaining hand. ‘Why are you so intent on saving this human! We’re both vampires—’

The woman chuckled. ‘Terribly sorry. I’m afraid I’m not a vampire.’ She took aim. ‘I’m a dhampir.’ A wide feral grin spread across her face. She pulled the trigger.

A hole was blasted in the vampire’s chest, his heart obliterated. He fell into the mess of a dead vampire, and his ghouls followed suit. The woman lowered the rifle and stuck it into the ground. She calmly walked back and sat next to Seras. The first words out of the human’s mouth surprised her.

‘You must be getting sick of saving me.’

She barked out a laugh. ‘Well, I would if it were your fault in any way. But, let’s be frank, last time you were a little kid living in a house that was attacked. This time you were sent to a place you never should have been sent to by a blundering commander who should’ve realised it was out of his jurisdiction when no one else returned or reported back.’

Seras looked at the remains on the knoll. ‘What were those?’ She still hadn’t seen the Hellsing Organisation who were slowly approaching. They were close enough to hear.

‘Ghouls,’ the woman said. ‘It’s what happens when a deflowered person is bitten by a vampire.’

Seras went silent for a few seconds before asking. ‘Who are they?’

Oh, so they were close enough to see now. She smiled. ‘The Hellsing Organisation. They’re an establishment of trained vampire hunters. They were the ones who should have been sent in.’ She looked over. ‘Better late than never I suppose. Thank you for the use of your rifle.’ She tossed it back.

The man in charge huffed good-naturedly. ‘Well, I suppose a “thank you” is as good as a “please”. May I ask what a dhampir is?’

The woman grinned. ‘Not to float my own boat, but only the greatest vampire hunters nature ever produced.’

‘So I see.’ He chuckled and nodded to the mess of remains. ‘And your name?’

‘Crina Tepes.’

Chapter Text

Hellsing Mansion
‘Dhampir.’ Walter read his notes as he followed Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing through the hallways. ‘A word of Albanian origin made up of the words for teeth and drink. Strongest associations are found in Balkan and Slavic folklore. The dhampir is a creature most commonly born of a human mother and a vampiric father.’

‘So she wasn’t entirely truthful when she told the Cheddar vampire that she wasn’t one.’

‘Where it matters, she was telling the truth. The records of dhampirs which could be found and certified indicate that they are not monsters as their vampiric parents are, but perfectly capable of functioning in human society. However, records on dhampirs are rare as real ones seem to be few and far between.’

‘What distinguishes a dhampir?’ Integra asked.

‘The most notable characteristic about them is that they never cast a shadow.’ Walter read from his notes again. ‘Dhampirs have all the powers of their vampiric parents with none of the weaknesses. They have the speed and strength of a vampire. They can turn into mist and phase through solid objects. However, blessed items and silver would not harm them. Vampiric barriers would not contain them.’

‘The best of both worlds,’ Integra murmured. ‘What about bloodlust?’

‘They do have a taste for blood, but all records indicate they will more commonly sit and eat human foods. You can ask Miss Tepes yourself when we meet her.’

‘And the police girl?’

‘Seras Victoria.’ Walter flicked through his notes again. ‘The only survivor of the Cheddar slaughter. But this was not her first encounter with Miss Tepes. She was orphaned at the age of seven. Official records state that a fire started in her home in the night. However, the conversation overheard in Cheddar and the fact that Miss Tepes, herself, was the one to carry her out of the burning house indicate this was just a cover-up. I got the true story from Miss Tepes herself.’

‘Hm?’ Integra looked back at him.

‘It was a home invasion. The late Mr. Victoria was a police officer himself, so I would presume it was a revenge attack. Miss Tepes claims to have caught the men raping Mrs Victoria’s corpse in the child’s view.’

Integra ground her teeth. Rage churned in her gut. Vampires were monsters, plain and simple. It was a fact of life she’d been raised with, something she knew like her own name. But sometimes she forgot that humans could be just as bad. They could do much worse for far less reason. That an innocent child had suffered for this…

‘Miss Tepes killed the men and then lit the house on fire before carrying the girl out. She then told the authorities that the parents had become trapped and were unable to escape. More likely than not, her means of killing the criminals was the reason she lit the fire.’

Yet, the dhampir had saved her. She had found the girl right when she needed help – twice. Was it coincidence? Fluke? Or was she out hunting? There was only one way to find out. Walter opened the door and Integra stepped into her office. Crina Tepes was sitting in the chair in front of the desk, waiting. Seras Victoria had been given a room already.

Due to her…experience, Integra had decided to have her transferred to the Hellsing Organisation. After what had just happened to her, she wouldn’t need instruction on just how evil vampires were. She had first-hand experience on that. Crina Tepes was a tall woman with long blonde hair and deep blue eyes. As Walter had said, she cast no shadow under the light.

Crina stood up. ‘Sir Integra.’

Integra nodded. ‘You can be seated, Miss Tepes.’ As the dhampir sat again, Integra walked around and sat behind her desk. Taking out a cigar, Integra began. ‘As I’m sure you can understand, your existence has surprised us and we have a few questions we’d like answered.’

‘Naturally,’ Crina said.

‘Where are you from?’ Integra asked.

‘Nowhere in particular,’ Crina said. ‘But I was born and raised in Muntenia.’

‘Muntenia is a province in Romania, Sir Integra,’ Walter informed her as he lit her cigar, knowing she’d never heard of it before.

‘Nowhere in particular?’ Integra asked. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Dhampirs are typically nomads,’ Crina said. ‘We have no home often due to the fact that our vampiric traits have a tendency to surface before our human ones.’

Children whose lives were ruined by vampires.

Integra puffed her cigar. ‘How many are you?’

‘Not too many.’ Crina’s lips tugged upwards. ‘For instance, the entirety of the dhampir population could comfortably stand around your desk there.’

Integra looked at her desk. It was a large desk but it would still only allow for about 10 people to stand comfortably around it. Crina was right. That wasn’t very much at all. Which begged the next question. ‘My men reported you had an unnaturally easy time killing the ghouls.’

‘Unnaturally?’ Crina smirked. ‘Perhaps. Dhampirs have an easy time killing – it’s one of our many curses. When we go for the head or the heart of any supernatural being, no matter what it is, it won’t be getting up again.’

‘In any circumstances?’ Integra asked. It sounded like the ultimate hunter. God’s Own Vampire Hunter.

Crina inclined her head thoughtfully. ‘Conditionally.’ She lifted a hand. ‘It only works that way if we do it with our bare hands.’

How could such a thing exist? Born of human and vampire, the ultimate vampire killer. Were the hands of dhampirs themselves holy? If such a thing was only found in individuals so rare, it was hardly a wonder no one knew about it. The odds of a true vampire hunter meeting one of these people was slim at best.

Integra intended to take full advantage of it. ‘We may like a demonstration.’

‘Very well.’ Crina smiled to herself. ‘I usually stop for a while every now and again. I’m about due to. I suppose I could lend my services to the Hellsing Organisation.’ She looked Integra right in the eye. ‘That’s what you’re really asking me, isn’t it?’

Integra smiled herself. ‘I was trying to be diplomatic.’ She tapped the cigar in the ashtray. ‘If you’re sticking around, I suppose we’ll see your powers for ourselves.’

‘Quite.’ She smiled. ‘Do you intend to find your answers in this way then?’

‘With one exception,’ Integra said. ‘What about your bloodlust?’

Crina inclined her head. ‘Vampires drink blood in order to obtain the nutrients their bodies need to sustain them. As half-humans, we can acquire these very same nutrients from human food. Most of our true bloodlust comes when we are severely wounded and need to heal.’

That was sufficient reassurance.

‘Very well,’ Integra said. ‘Walter will show you to your room.’

Walter did as he was told, leading Crina out. As he left, Integra heard him ask, ‘Is there any food in particular you prefer?’

‘I’m partial to sângerete.’

Curious, Integra turned to her computer and searched for the word sângerete. It came up instantly. Blood sausage. It was called different things all over the world. Sângerete was simply the Romanian word for it. Countless humans all over the world ate such a dish, but it made Integra think. Would a human-vampire hybrid, as a dhampir was, prefer foods with blood content?

It would seem so.

Crina had never slept well at night.

That wasn’t entirely true, actually. Once, she had slept through the night – when she was human. That seemed so long ago though. Now, the vampire blood in her veins made such a thing impossible. That, and the vampiric presence she could sense. Crina knew he was supposed to be in the building somewhere.

But a dhampir should have had him come and look by now. The fact that he hadn’t – and she’d know if he had – screamed all sorts of “wrong”. The last he knew, she was dead. After 500 years, it was out of character for him not to come up and ask questions. Finally giving in to the temptation, Crina rolled out of bed. She pulled on her dressing gown and phased through about three levels of floor until she landed in the dungeon.

The stone floor was cold on her feet, but Crina barely noticed. She followed her senses and walked down. She followed her nose into the deepest parts of the dungeon, passing through the walls that barred the way for anyone else. Soon, she came to a long hostile-looking hallway.

At the end of the hall, there was a cell with distinct seal painted on the door with blood. But whose blood? Crina walked towards it. It was a clear vampire seal – meaning it wouldn’t work on her. It didn’t scan her blood. It scanned her physiology. If it found a heartbeat, everything was cool.

Crina came to the door and sniffed. Her eyes narrowed. Vampire blood. It had been made with a particular vampire in mind. Bracing herself, Crina stepped through the door. She stopped at the top of the stairs and stared down into the cell. She was aware, to an outsider, her eyes would look like ice. The rage boiling in her gut had once gotten her into a lot of trouble. Now, she had much better impulse control.

The figure in the cell looked like an old rotted corpse. The arms had been bound tightly to his body in a severe-looking straight-jacket, pinning the man to the wall. Long inky black hair fell in a curtain around him. His eyes were hollow and sunken in. His skin was papery and whiter than it should have been. He was all skin and bones.

‘Tată…’ Crina crouched down. She looked to her left. There was a bucket of blood bags sitting next to her. That seemed more than just a little cruel – starving him, but leaving food where he could see it. The bags, Crina noted, as she picked one up entirely blocked the smell of the blood.

But he would still have been able to see it.

Curious, Crina straightened up. She lightly pulled on the cell door handle. It moved. It was unlocked. Why was it unlocked? This was suspicious, to say the least. Crina picked up the bucket of blood and pulled the door open. She paused and looked back at him.

‘I’d like to feed you,’ she said. She didn’t address him by “tată” again because she didn’t doubt she was being watched. She couldn’t risk the big secret getting out. ‘But, obviously, somebody wants me to. Smells a little too much like “trap”, so I’ll come back and feed you when I’ve worked this out.’

That said, Crina left with the blood.

She phased back through the mansion and tucked the blood away. However, she picked up one bag and walked out of her room and down to the kitchen with it. There was a specific reason for that. Crina stepped into the kitchen to find one Seras Victoria sitting up at the bench with a mug of coffee.

‘Couldn’t sleep?’ Crina asked.

Seras jumped and turned. She sighed and turned back to her coffee. ‘No. I kept having nightmares. Dr. Alice said similar events to that night might trigger them.’ She looked over. ‘What about you?’

‘I’m a dhampir,’ Crina said with a wide grin, going over and getting another mug down. ‘My night-time is your daytime.’ She ripped open the packet and poured the blood into the mug. ‘I tend to sleep during the day.’

‘That’s your vampire genes?’ Seras asked.

‘Precisely.’ Crina took a sip of blood.

‘So…how do dhampirs get…?’

‘The same way humans do, just it’s a lot less likely.’ Crina smiled in amusement. ‘If a vampire does shag his dinner…well, think about what nearly happened to you in Cheddar. That’s the normal scenario. They get raped or seduced so they turn into ghouls instead of vampires when they’re bitten.’

Seras shuddered at the thought. Crina heard it.

But she ignored it. ‘So if a dhampir is conceived in this way, they never survive to full term.’

‘Wait…’ Seras looked at her. ‘Sex is a requirement…?’

‘A vampire requires two prerequisites.’ Crina counted them off on her fingers. ‘The potential childe has to be willing to make the change, and they have to be a virgin of the opposite sex to their sire. Lacking either of these and they’ll turn into a ghoul instead. Rogue vampires like to ensure it by removing potential virginity, by force if they must.’

Seras still looked confused. ‘Once more with clarity?’

Crina smiled indulgently. ‘To create a new vampire, the vampire master must bite a virgin of the opposite sex who is willing to change. Most of them don’t want to create new vampires, though. They want ghouls. A deflowered human cannot, in most circumstances, become a vampire.’

There was only one exception that Crina knew of. It had been a huge shock to the entire supernatural world. Vlad the Impaler had not been a virgin when he became a vampire. No, he’d had a daughter already. He had, in fact, two daughters and four sons. All biological too, so he had to have had sex at that point in his mortal life.

After that revelation, other pieces of information started coming out. No one knew who had sired the Impaler, no one knew who had taught him. He had literally popped out of nowhere. It had begat the theory that there were other ways to transform into a vampire.

‘In most circumstances?’ Seras asked.

Crina smirked.

Chapter Text

The dhampir apparently had a sadistic streak.

They received reports of a string of vampire attacks. The victims heads had been ripped off, messages were left on the walls, written in blood, and often accompanied by an inverted cross. Integra had taken one look at one such display and stated, ‘This is an offence against God and Christendom. They mock our church, our country, and Hellsing itself!’

Crina Tepes had then not only tracked the vampires down and taken Seras Victoria, now affectionately known as “police girl” in Hellsing, with her. She’d then shown incredible audacity. According to the report of the commanding officer on the field, she’d knocked on a door, while everyone else was trying to work out which apartment the vampires were in, and hit the doorbell.

‘Did someone order a pepperoni pizza?’ she called.

The vampire had then opened the door, really believing the humans who lived in the apartment, had ordered such a food item. She’d then moved fast, thrusting the heel of her hand into the vampire’s face. His entire skull had shattered in a spray of blood and he’d dropped to the floor.

The female with him had fled.

Integra had seen the next part personally. It was quite impressive to watch. Crina had materialised on the roof, where she’d had the police girl lie in wait with a bazooka, loaded with a holy charge. The police girl aimed, only having to be corrected a couple of millimetres by the dhampir, before firing.

The heart was blown right out of the female. Crina had watched with a wide grin. It would seem that enjoying bloodshed was an inescapable part of vampiric nature, even if you were a Halfling. Then, on the ride back, Crina had joyously munched on the blood sausage Walter had acquired for her at some point.

…At the very least, she’d taken the newbie under her wing.

Crina materialised in Integra’s office.

Integra glanced up, only slightly startled. ‘I was under the impression only vampires could do that.’

‘Powers of the vampire, but none of the weaknesses,’ Crina said. ‘You wanted to see me, ma’am?’

‘Yes,’ Integra said. ‘Miss Victoria is coming along nicely so I wanted you to take her out for a little field test.’

Walter handed Crina a file. She flicked it open and read it. ‘Ireland, huh? Vampire taken over the hospital?’ She raised an eyebrow and looked at Integra. ‘Any reason you want me to take the police girl on her field test specifically?’

‘You seem to be the most experienced vampire hunter in Hellsing, barring Walter, of course,’ Integra remarked. ‘I want the police girl learning how to handle herself alone and you seem capable of teaching that.’

Crina stood. ‘As you wish, Sir Integra.’

Italy
‘Now, both of you stop that,’ an Irish-accented man told two small boys. ‘There’s no fighting between friends. How do you expect to go to Heaven acting like that?’

‘Sorry, Father,’ one of the boys said.

The priest straightened up. ‘Listen. Violence is never the right answer, except when used against heathens and monsters.’ He looked at the man approaching and decided to wrap this up. ‘All right. I want both of you to run straight up to your rooms.’

‘Yes, Father,’ they both said in unison.

The two boys ran off.

The priest turned and walked in the other direction, trusting the approaching man to follow him. He did so. ‘To what do I owe this visit?’ the priest asked. ‘What happened?’

‘I’m afraid we’ve been hearing a lot of bad news lately,’ the other man said. ‘Coming from England.’

The priest worked a crick out of his shoulder. He turned around. ‘Yeah? They’re working hard to keep everything quiet.’

‘Ahh,’ the man said. ‘Vampires.’

The priest gave a wide grin.

‘There have recently been multiple vampire attacks within their borders. Far too many to be pure coincidence.’

‘Well, nothing wrong with that, is there? If a vampire wants to eat some protestants, how’s it our business?’

‘But there’s more. Hellsing. They are a problem. They’ve been holding a stronger front than we expected, keeping damage to a minimum.’

‘They are nothing but amateurs. Hellsing is practically a kindergarten compared to us. The Catholics, the Vatican, and the Iscariots. We were fighting against the forces of darkness centuries before the Hellsing Organisation even existed. So why are you here? If all the trouble’s over in England then surely the English can take care of it all.’

‘But it’s not only in England.’

The priest’s eyes widened. ‘What?’

‘There’s been an attack in Ireland. Northern Ireland, a little town called Badrick.’ The other man walked past him. ‘Hellsing is on the move, and we will not just sit back and watch.’

The priest looked back with a wide grin. ‘The nerve of them, sneaking around where they’re not wanted. These fools are as shameless and presumptuous as ever.’

‘We will teach them to know their place, Anderson.’ The other man stopped. ‘They tread on Catholic lands. This vampire is ours to destroy.’ He looked back. ‘We want you to deal with this before they do.’
Father Anderson was grinning widely. ‘And if I should run into the Agents of Hellsing?’

He turned around. ‘Just remember: we are a part of God’s Divine Instrument on Earth. We do not retreat when we are challenged by heretics.’

‘And if anyone does not love the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be accursed at his coming or save you from your fate. Amen.’

Ireland
Seras had been planted at the end of the hallway. She hadn’t done this before joining Hellsing, but Crina had been doing it for centuries. She knew what she was doing. Seras would take comfort in that. So she did exactly what she was told, lined up and aimed and blew the heads off of the ghouls.

‘When you shoot, aim for the head and the heart,’ Crina instructed her, from beside her, a gun in her own hands. ‘These people did not choose to become ghouls. Much like a dog with a painful terminal disease, it’s much kinder to just put them out of their misery.’

‘Right.’ Seras aimed and fired. She still flinched when the heads exploded in bone shrapnel and a burst of blood and brain. Strangely, though, it no longer made her want to toss her cookies. Was she becoming desensitised to it? Seras wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Crina suddenly chuckled and turned. ‘Oh, goody!’ She shot off and Seras guessed there must’ve been more coming from behind. Seras kept her focus. That was one of the first things they’d taught her: keep focus and don’t deviate to what your allies are doing. Seras shot ghoul after ghoul as they advanced down the hall.

Suddenly, Crina made a confused sound in her throat. ‘What the…? That’s not right.’

‘What’s the matter?’ Seras asked, still shooting.

‘The vampire’s just been destroyed,’ Crina said. ‘Which means there’s somebody else here.’

Seras scrutinised the ghouls she was shooting. ‘But then why are the ghouls still coming? Shouldn’t they have dropped when the vampire that created them died?’

‘Very good. Hold on.’

England
‘Sir,’ Walter hurried into Integra’s office, leading another man with him, ‘a report from our Vatican intelligence officer.’

The other man held the report up. ‘It reads: our fears confirmed. The Vatican Special Operations, Iscariot Organisation, is on the move.’

Integra snipped the end of her cigar. ‘Iscariot? The Vatican’s Special Operations Unit. The most powerful agents the Vatican commands. Professional exorcists. Assassins trained to deal with heathens and heretics.’ Would Crina have heard of them? Quite likely. ‘They’re working under Section XIII…a black operations unit. How large a force did they send?’

‘Just one agent was deployed,’ the messenger said. ‘The Paladin, Father Alexander Anderson.’

Integra drew back. ‘Did you say Alexander Anderson?’

They hadn’t yet briefed Crina on Alexander Anderson, the Vatican’s biologically engineered regenerator, and Integra still didn’t know of Crina’s full power. She had merely said that her vampiric traits had showed first, and they really seemed to as well. In the time she’d been here, if one didn’t know better they’d mistake her for a vampire. And Alexander Anderson would. He wasn’t the kind to stop and listen either. He would just keep trying until he’d cleft the woman’s head from her shoulders.

Crina was half-human. That would surely kill her.

Integra stood. ‘I’ll leave for Badrick immediately! Fetch my gun, my sword, and prepare two bodyguards.’

Ireland
The last of the ghouls dropped under Crina’s hand. She straightened up and looked around, eyes narrowing. Seras straightened up. She lowered her gun. Even as she wiped her hands on her trench coat, Crina lifted her nose and sniffed. Her teeth snapped together.

‘What’s going on?’ Seras asked.

Crina suddenly shot over. ‘Duck!’ She pushed the human girl down just as a bayonet flew right where her neck would have been. Seras shrieked. Crina growled. ‘You do realise she’s human, right?’

A series of glowing papers flew about the place. They adhered to the windows and walls. An Irish accent carried down the hallway. ‘If she is, you’re certainly not.’

Crina planted her hands on her hips and heaved a sigh. ‘Here we go again.’

Seras stumbled back to her feet, still shaking like a leaf.

A tall man with blonde hair, wearing spectacles and a Crucifix stepped around the corner. There was a wide toothy grin on his face. Blood dripped from his blade. ‘We are the servants of God and the messengers of his justice. We are the instruments of his Divine Wrath on Earth. We are called upon to cleanse his kingdom,’ he lifted his bayonets and formed a cross in front of him, ‘bringing ash from the flesh of thine enemies. Praise to our Lord!’

‘You are from Iscariot,’ Crina said. ‘I never understood why the Vatican’s vampire hunting Section XIII named itself after the one disciple who is remembered for betraying the Son of God.’

Chapter Text

Ireland
The Paladin – that’s what Iscariot called their vampire hunters – strode towards them at a steady pace. ‘Beautiful moon tonight, don’t you think?’

‘You killed the vampire?’ Crina checked.

The Paladin chuckled. ‘You’re the only one left.’ He regarded her. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve had a good hunt. I plan on enjoying this.’

‘Huh?’ Seras looked at her.

‘It happens,’ Crina told her. ‘My kind are often mistaken for vampires.’

‘Mistaken?’ The Paladin barked out a laugh. ‘Don’t go trying to convince me that you’re not one of them.’

Crina went on. ‘Hellsing was actually unusual in the fact that they noticed the discrepancy in that particular theory. For instance, since when could a vampire kill ghouls like that?’ She jerked her thumb at the ghouls in question.

‘I’m sure you’ve got some trick,’ the Paladin said.

‘I’m gonna have to fight you anyway, aren’t I?’ Crina asked in the manner of a tired soldier.

‘Right you are, you pathetic Hellsing dogs.’ The Paladin continued his advance.

‘Very well.’ Crina began hers. ‘Police girl, take the gun and get out of the building.’

Seras gasped, but she didn’t move. Crina and the Paladin stopped just a foot from each other.

‘So what exactly are you trying to convince me you are?’ the Paladin asked.

‘Does it matter?’ Crina smirked widely. ‘You clearly won’t believe me anyway. Seems I’d be wasting my breath.’

The Paladin sneered. He stabbed with the first of his bayonets, moving fast and startling Crina. The sword flew into her throat. ‘Guk!’ She made a strangled sound. The Paladin’s grin widened. Crina swung her fist, perhaps a little harder than necessary. There was the sound of bones breaking and he flew back, blood flying from his nose. He hit the wall and stayed there.

‘Shit!’ Crina pulled the sword out of her neck. She looked at it. ‘Oh, a blessed blade? Too bad it doesn’t work on me.’

‘…Seems to work just fine,’ Seras remarked, moving over to her. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah.’ Crina touched her hand to her neck and pulled it away, covered in blood. She lapped up the blood, smiling to herself at the queasy look on Seras’s face. The wound closed up and healed though. ‘When used on vampires, blessed blades tend to pin them down and incapacitate them if not punched through the head or heart.’

‘And if they are, they kill them?’

‘Exactly.’ Crina nodded.

‘And those bits of paper?’

‘Vampire barrier. No vampire can leave the area.’ Crina grinned widely in amusement, knowing she looked almost psychotic. ‘Now what say we get outta here?’

Suddenly a collection of bayonets came her way again. Crina grunted as she was thrown back and effectively pinned to the wall. Two more came at her, pinning her hands to the walls. Pain shot through her, but no more than could be expected from having sharp objects skewered into one’s body. Crina had felt worse pain.

‘Crina!’ Seras called out, alarmed and scared.

The Paladin stood up.

‘Okay,’ Crina said. ‘That’s a new one. Since when could humans do that?’

The Paladin laughed and brandished two more bayonets as he approached again. ‘I am the regenerator of the Iscariot Organisation! I am the ultimate weapon of the Lord’s divine justice.’

Crina blinked at him. ‘Can you talk like a normal person?’

‘Amen.’ The Paladin slashed, aiming for her neck.

Crina snarled and transmuted her body, transforming into mist. The blades passed right through the gaseous substance and Crina slipped free. ‘Those blades would have pinned a vampire in place; stopped him doing what I just did. But, as I said, I am not a vampire.’ The mist took off. ‘Get outta here, Seras!’

The Paladin took off after her.

Seras followed him, pulling out her hand gun.

Aw, futu-i!

She could just about hear her mother’s voice: VLAD, WHERE DID SHE LEARN THAT WORD?

Integra arrived at the hospital and rushed in, followed by her two bodyguards. She strode through the hospital, seeking Crina and Seras out. From the looks of things, the ghoul corpses and the bayonets in the wall, the fight had already started. The sound of gunshots drew Integra to the point of conflict.

She turned to corner to see Seras Victoria against the wall, having just had the wind knocked out of her and Anderson was making to stab her with his sword, regardless of her being human. Integra raised her own gun and shot. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! The bayonet shattered. Both the police girl and the paladin spun.

‘That girl belongs to me,’ Integra stated. ‘What’s your business here, Paladin of Iscariot, Father Alexander Anderson?’

Crina’s voice came from above. ‘Thanks for that. I was getting sick of calling him “the Paladin”.’

Anderson looked up, seeking through the rafters.

‘Don’t bother looking,’ Crina said. ‘You won’t find me. Mind you, I was about to come back and find out if you could survive having your throat ripped out. Just answer the question.’

Integra reminded herself that Crina Tepes was half-vampire. It was to be expected for her to hold some vampiric…enthusiasms.

Anderson growled but he faced her. ‘Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. To what do I owe the honour of such a personal appearance?’

‘Enough, Father Anderson!’ Integra snapped. ‘This is a violation of our agreement. The situation here is under our control. Withdraw immediately. Neither the Iscariot nor the Hellsing Organisation can afford this sort of battle. I don’t care who you think you are. This act of aggression ends now.’

‘Withdraw.’ Anderson sneered. ‘Is that an order?’ He flicked out the bayonet. ‘You expect the Iscariot Organisation, God’s own Chosen Instruments of Judgement, to just withdraw on your order? Did you really expect me to run away screaming in fear from a filthy Protestant whore?’

He charged. Integra grabbed her sword and her bodyguards moved to defend her. He didn’t that get far though. In the next instant, Crina was there. She moved fast. His bayonets flew to either side and imbedded in the walls. Anderson staggered back, coughing up blood.

‘Funny.’ Crina folded her arms. ‘I had thought humanity were past their Catholicism vs. Protestantism shtick in their Christian faith. Or is this just your bunch?’ She looked over. ‘Seras, get over here.’ The police girl immediately scrambled over. Crina grinned. ‘I thought I told you to get outta here.’ She shook her head. ‘I suppose you’re one of those Honour Before Reason types, but that was pretty good considering how green you are.’

Well, that was another thing to know about Crina though: she was the type to be more impressed than annoyed, even if she was disobeyed.

Anderson glared up. ‘Since when did you go and enlist vampires?’

Integra smirked. ‘Oh, you haven’t figured it out yet?’

‘He used his blessed blades on me and everything,’ Crina said with a wide grin and an air of mockery.

Integra chuckled. ‘And you didn’t wonder why your blessed blades didn’t work? Why all they did was cut her? This is not a vampire.’

Crina frowned. ‘While we’re on the subject, what is this guy?’

‘An artificially bio-engineered regenerator agent,’ Integra said. ‘He’s a thing!’

‘Perhaps!’ Anderson sneered. ‘But if you’re claiming this one here isn’t a vampire, then what would you call her? She drinks blood, kills ghouls with her bare hands, and turns into mist. What else could she be?’

Integra smirked. ‘Crina, here, is a dhampir.’

Anderson drew back and ground his teeth a moment. ‘That’s impossible! Dhampirs are a myth! They don’t exist! Just a story whores tell to cover up their sins!’

‘Really?’ Integra sneered now. ‘Then how do you explain someone with all the powers of a vampire, but none of the weaknesses? The dhampir is real. They are rare and difficult to come by, but they are very real. And this dhampir is under my service, killing vampires in order to protect humanity from their menace.’

Anderson growled and charged. Crina dodged, grabbed him by the throat and threw him into a wall. He rolled to his feet and threw his bayonets. Crina smiled, grin almost splitting her face. Black shadow tendrils shot out and grabbed the bayonets. The shadow arms held them up as if to hit him with his own weapons.

‘I think you’re beginning to understand,’ Integra said. ‘What will you do now, Anderson?’

Crina’s eyes were just about glowing in the thrill of the fight.

‘I’ll leave.’ Anderson lifted his bible. ‘I’ll need further preparation to kill this one.’ He swung open the bible and pages came back, wrapping around him to transport him away. ‘We’ll meet again, Hellsing! Next time, I’ll butcher you.’ And he was gone.

Integra lit a cigar as Crina went over to check on Seras. It had likely been the first time that something which wasn’t a vampire or a ghoul had tried to kill her. Integra waited until Crina nodded and left Seras. She walked over to her. ‘When he comes back, he won’t try to kill me. People, especially Catholics, have an odd fixation with trying to weaponise my kind.’

Integra nodded once. She could imagine why. ‘Anderson has violated our agreement, attacked without provocation, and tried to kill both you and the police girl. The Vatican will pay dearly for this. However, they are not our priority. There’s a shadow organisation somewhere out there that is responsible for this increase in vampire attacks.’

‘Yes.’ Crina inclined her head. ‘Speaking of which, a most peculiar thing just happened.’

‘Hm?’

‘While Seras and I were fighting ghouls, Anderson killed the vampire responsible, but the ghouls didn’t fall. We had to finish every last one of them off ourselves.’

Integra lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s not normal.’

‘No, it isn’t.’

But they couldn’t hang around. They moved into the helicopter. As they were flying back to England, Integra finally had the chance to bring it up. ‘Crina, we looked up your name in the history books.’

‘I imagined you might,’ Crina said. ‘What did you find?’

‘You’re listed as the daughter of Vlad Tepes III of Wallachia – Vlad the Impaler.’

‘Yes. And?’

‘Before he was a vampire.’ Rightfully, that should have been impossible. If Vlad the Impaler had been a father, he wasn’t a virgin. He should not have been able to become Count Dracula, who her great-grandfather had smote.

Crina squinted in confusion for a moment before her eyes widened in realisation. ‘Oh! I see where you’ve gotten confused! “Dracula” wasn’t actually his name. It was a title he shared with both of his brothers.’

Now Integra was even more confused. ‘Explain.’

‘Right.’ Crina leaned her arms on her knees. ‘My grandfather was known as Vlad Dracul – Vlad the Dragon. In Romanian culture, such a nickname earned his three sons the name Dracula – son of the Dragon. Mircea, son of the Dragon. Vlad, son of the Dragon. Radu, son of the Dragon. Of the three, only my Uncle Mircea died a virgin.’

Ah. That made sense. ‘So it was Mircea, not Vlad, who was Count Dracula?’

Crina smiled. ‘My father was just singled out because he is the one the history books remember best for brutality.’

‘So if it was your uncle, not your father, how did you become a dhampir?’ Seras asked the next obvious question.

‘I wonder that too,’ Integra said. ‘Especially considering history recorded that you were impaled at age 7 by your family’s enemies, several years before Vlad the Impaler was beheaded.’

‘Yeah. Most pain I ever felt in my life.’ Crina shook her head. ‘The answer to that is that I was resurrected with the use of the Count’s vampiric blood. It went into me and I became a dhampir.’

‘Why were you resurrected?’ Integra asked.

‘Damned if I know,’ Crina said. ‘I was seven and I was terrified. I didn’t exactly stick around and ask.’

That was a pain.

Understandable, but a pain.

Chapter Text

Walter was surprised to say the least. ‘So he wasn’t Vlad the Impaler?’

‘It would seem not,’ Sir Integra said, smoking one of her cigars.

Actually, come to think of it, no one had ever asked Alucard if he was Vlad the Impaler. As Crina had said, it’d been an assumption made based on historical records. Yet no one had ever checked. No one had questioned it. Now it turned out that it was wrong. Vlad the Impaler had been a father, so he couldn’t possibly have been the Count.

Of course, now it made perfect sense. The last few days, he’d been scratching his head over Crina’s existence and story. It was well known that one could only be turned into a vampire if they were a virgin. If Crina was the daughter of Dracula, he never would have become the Vampire King. He never would have even become a vampire. Being his niece, on the other hand…And there would still be enough genetic relation in the blood for it to work.

And being from the same household…it also offered the idea that a sadistic streak may have simply run in the family.

Walter thought back to his time fighting alongside the famed vampire. A few things jumped out that he hadn’t noticed before. For starters, Alucard had kept soundly away from children. His response to the sight of children in the holocaust camps was to turn on the guards in chilled rage. Was the image of his impaled niece still haunting him, even then?

Was his tendency to impale enemies a tribute to his fallen brother?

But then why hadn’t his niece freed him?

‘Walter,’ Integra said, ‘call the Round Table to conference.’

Walter bowed. ‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Well, now. The situation must be impossibly dire if you’ve got the gall to convene a Round Table Conference. Am I right, Sir Integra?’

‘Yes,’ Integra said.

Another member of the Round Table spoke up. ‘Civilian reports of vampire attacks on British soil have been rising steadily over the past few months.’

‘We can’t keep this quiet for much longer,’ the man next to him said.

‘There are limits to the information we can suppress,’ yet another stated. ‘What is going on, Sir Integra?’

‘We have been conducting a thorough investigation into the matter, and finally we have come across our first solid piece of evidence.’ Integra held up a small microchip.

The men looked interested in spite of themselves.

‘And what is that supposed to be?’ The military representative, Sir Penwood, asked.

‘A transmitter,’ Integra said. ‘Perhaps much more. We’ve been finding these microchips embedded within the vampires. These chips seem to relay information regarding the creatures’ physical and mental state, movements, and altercations.’

The men reacted in alarmed surprised, Sir Penwood most strongly as he stood quickly and exclaimed, ‘Good God!’

Integra tucked the chip away again. ‘These attacks are not random. There’s someone creating these vampires, controlling them,’ she picked up a cigar, ‘moving towards some unknown purpose. And that’s not all. It gets worse.’

‘What?’ one of the men demanded.

The head of the Round Table nodded. ‘Please, go on.’

‘These are different.’ Integra lit her cigar. ‘Traditionally, ghouls come from the corpses of deflowered men and women once they’ve been drained of blood by a vampire. But not anymore. During these last few incidents, not one new vampire has been created. Even young boys and girls, who are clearly virgins, have become ghouls instead of vampires.’

Elsewhere in the mansion, Crina’s eyes narrowed. Boy, that’s optimistic.

Integra went on. ‘Also, the traditional ghouls we’ve encountered in the past do not survive the destruction of their host. But during the Badrick incident, Vatican Agent Anderson claimed to have destroyed the vampire well before our arrival.’ She pulled the cigar from her mouth and tapped out the ash. ‘The host vampire had already been dispatched and yet the ghouls still walked.’

‘So what does it all mean?’ the head of the Round Table asked.

‘We are at war against a conspiracy of vampire experts, and they’re displaying remarkable skill.’ Integra’s eyes narrowed. ‘Gentlemen, the enemy is just like us.’

Crina sat in the kitchen, talking to Seras as they ate lunch.

Walter walked in. ‘Pardon me for interrupting.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Crina said. ‘What’s wrong, Walter?’

‘I was wondering if you knew about this.’ The butler handed her a report.

Crina looked at it and smiled. ‘I suspected something like it might happen, yes.’

‘What’s going on?’ Seras asked.

‘It seems vampires are turning against each other.’

‘No,’ Crina said. ‘True Vampires are turning on chipped vampires. Truth be told, it’s not that surprising. There is a big difference between True Vampires and these cheap imitations. The genuine article would know in an instant.’

‘Can I ask why?’

‘Why are the true vampires attacking the chipped ones?’ Crina waited for his nod. ‘I would say it’s because vampires don’t like being imitated – and especially not when it’s done so badly. Hadn’t you noticed? Vampires are very picky about who joins their ranks. Masters have even been known to destroy their new fledglings if said fledglings don’t live – or unlive – up to a certain standard.’ She took a sip of the bland drink. ‘So there’s some proastă proastă going around making them willy-nilly. He shouldn’t be surprised when real vampires go around killing them.’

‘“Proastă proastă”? What’s that mean?’ Seras asked.

‘It’s Romanian for “damned fool”,’ Walter said.

Crina looked at him, impressed. ‘You know the language?’

‘I once had a Romanian partner in my prime,’ Walter said. ‘He would sprout phrases in Romanian so no one knew what he was saying about them, often to their faces, so I took it upon myself to learn the language.’

Crina sniggered.

Two males walked towards the mansion.

One of them chuckled. ‘And so this dude’s friend – I mean, he’s like a real doctor but does the cosmetics shit on the side, right? So then that same crazy fuck with the horn comes back but now he wants a plexiglass plate for his skull. And the doctor fucking does it! He makes a window! You can see the fucker’s brain and shit! The guy’s got a big monster horn and his head meat on display! The guy’s a freak! I mean what the fuck!’ He laughed. ‘Yeah, Luke. You get it?’

‘Shut up,’ the other one told him.

‘Huh?’

‘The stream of drivel pours from your mouth before every job,’ Luke said. ‘Can we just this once try for quiet, focused, and cool?’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah!’ The first one rolled his eyes. ‘I got it! Same old shit. I know. Fucking A, bro.’

‘Failure is not an option,’ Luke said.

The brother snorted. ‘Oh, please! I could pull this job in my goddamn sleep.’

The two of them approached the front gate of Hellsing Manor.

The guards stepped forward.

‘Hey,’ the nearest one of them called. ‘What are you two doing here? These grounds are off-limits.’

‘Oh!’ Luke drew back slightly. ‘So sorry. We’re on a sightseeing tour of famous English Estates.’

‘Are you saying this mansion isn’t open to the public?’ the brother asked.

‘This is private property,’ the guard said. ‘Please leave at once.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the brother said.

‘All right,’ Luke said at the same time. They both turned and Luke clicked.

The ghouls inside their buses opened fire.

Seras didn’t know why Crina suddenly grabbed her. She did know, however, that they were suddenly in a dark stone area. Seras looked around. ‘Where are we?’

‘Dungeon.’ Crina produced a huge firearm of some sort that looked like it should buckle her under its weight. ‘The Manor is under attack. I could hear them coming a mile away. They have two objectives: killing Sir Integra and getting what’s down here. When we’re finished here, I’m going up to help Integra. You are going to lie in wait down here.’

‘What are they after?’ Seras asked.

‘Come on!’ Crina led her into the bowels of the dungeon and down, deep into the cell block.

‘You don’t expect me to lift that, do you?’ Seras asked pointing at the gun.

‘Come on, now!’ Crina scoffed. ‘Being optimistic, a gun this size would do your back in. I’m gonna set it up and, when he comes in, you’re just gonna pull the trigger.’

‘Okay…So what’s down here?’

Crina took her to a cell at the end of the block with some kind of circular pattern drawn in red. It looked like blood, but Seras didn’t want to think of it. The door, she saw when Crina pulled it open, was unlocked. The dhampir snarled when she saw this and began muttering.

‘Do they ever lock this?’ She cleared her expression and stepped aside to let her into the cell. ‘Seras, have you met my father?’

Seras gasped as she took in the figure strapped to the wall at the far end of the cell. She slapped a hand over her mouth. The figure looked like a corpse that had been starved to death and just left here.

‘…What?’ Seras looked at Crina as she set up the gun.

‘Yes, that’s the vampire, Count Dracula.’ Crina gave a bitter smile. ‘Mind you, the Hellsings changed it to Alucard.’

The absurdity of what she was seeing finally got to her. ‘That’s just Dracula spelled backwards!’

‘Yeah, not very creative, are they?’ Crina sneered.

‘But didn’t you say that the vampire Dracula was your uncle?’ Seras asked.

‘No, I mislead Integra to that conclusion,’ Crina said. She walked down the stairs to her father. ‘Do you remember what I said about being a virgin?’

‘Yeah…’ Realisation dawned. ‘Wait, if he’s your father, there’s no way he was a virgin.’

‘Precisely.’ Crina looked at her. ‘Tată went through something known as vampiric selection, sireless turning, or self-siring, respectively.’ Her lips quirked. ‘It’s why the notion of destroying all vampires is a mad hopeless dream. When a wronged person is on the brink of death and feeling nothing but the need for vengeance, this occurs. Due to humanity’s propensity for selfishly-driven hate crimes, this means vampires will always exist. Self-siring creates vampires, and exceptionally powerful ones at that, regardless of whether one is a virgin or deflowered.’ She looked down at her father again. ‘I was allowed to carry out this operation on the condition that Hellsing never discovers this mode of transformation.’

‘Operation?’ Seras asked.

Crina crouched down and reached out, laying a hand on her father’s face. ‘My father is sealed in slavery to the Hellsing family. The only way for him to be freed is if the Hellsing family were to die out. I came here to ensure Integra Hellsing never bears any children to inherit the master-hood over my father.’

‘He’s a slave…’ Seras murmured, horrified.

‘And a starved one at that.’ Crina withdrew her hand and stood up. ‘He hasn’t had a drop of blood in 30 years now. This is what happens when vampires don’t feed.’

‘So, why don’t you feed him?’ Seras asked. ‘I’ve seen you drinking blood. It grosses me out, but I’ve seen it.’

Crina sighed, a sadness tinging her features. ‘I would love to. Unfortunately, if I were to give him blood and restore him he still would be a slave of Integra Hellsing. If I wait until she died to feed him then he will be free and we can go straight home. I’m simply playing a very long game – like a snake in the grass.’

Seras nodded. ‘I still can’t believe it. I mean, Sir Integra seems nice enough.’

‘Sir Integra and Walter are polite,’ Crina said. ‘Do not mistake that for being nice. I do believe, however, that Integra believes she’s doing the right thing – but so did her great-grandfather – and look at the disaster he caused in the name of “the greater good”.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Later.’

Chapter Text

Walter looked up as Crina stepped through the wall, in much the same way Alucard used to do. ‘Miss Tepes has just walked in, Sir Integra.’

‘Where have you been, Crina?’ Integra demanded. ‘Report!’

‘One’s heading up to you, and one’s going down to the dungeon,’ Crina said. ‘I was down there setting a trap for him.’

‘It better be good,’ Integra stated.

Crina smirked, looking an absolute mirror of her uncle. ‘Oh, it will be.’

Integra sat back to wait.

‘Who…is Crina?’ the head of the Round Table asked.

Integra smirked. ‘In Eastern European folklore there is a figure called the dhampir. This creature is a natural vampire hunter who actively protects humans. It has all the powers of a vampire, but none of the weaknesses. Crina Tepes is one such dhampir.’

A full briefing would have to come later.

The men looked startled.

‘Such a thing exists?’ Penwood asked.

‘And aren’t you that glad it does?’ Crina chose that moment to step through a solid wall.

Integra smirked as nearly every man at the table nearly jumped out of his skin. ‘Good to see you, Crina. Where’s Walter?’

‘Not far behind.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sir Penwood demanded, sounding on the edge of panic. ‘There’s no way to get through the ghouls!’

At that moment one of the roof panels dropped down and hit him right in the head. Walter dropped down.

Integra smiled. ‘Walter!’

‘I do apologise for the delay,’ Walter said, walking over. He lit her cigar for her. ‘The manor’s defensive forces have been roundly decimated. I don’t know who armed and trained these creatures, but whoever did is a tactical genius. They knew exactly how and where to hit us.’

Crina watched him, silent as a ghost.

‘Walter, honestly. Do you think we’re done for?’

‘No.’ Walter held up two fingers. ‘Of course not. Compared to the sorts of trouble Van Hellsing faced a century ago, I think it’s fair to say this hardly rates as a crisis.’ He cracked his knuckles in preparation. ‘The plan is as follows, Sir Integra. Seras will intercept our attackers in the sublevels and set off the trap. Crina and I will clear out this floor. Your standing orders will be followed to the letter.’ The blue wire flashed out from his fingertips. ‘I promise that not one of these villains will ever see the light of day again.’ He paused. ‘Now, with your permission, sir, I believe it’s time I gave these young people a proper lesson in violence.’

Integra smirked and chuckled.

Jan Valentine swaggered through the hallway with his ghouls.

‘Little Hellsing chicky!’ he called, mocking. ‘We’re coming to find you! Come on out and play, little Hellsing. I promise it’s gonna be a lot of fun. Just wanna torture you, kill you, maybe skull-fuck your corpse a couple of times, burn the house to the ground, go home and masturbate, okay?’

Ahead, the door opened and a man walked out.

Jan stopped, smirk still firmly in place.

Then the man turned to them and flicked a hand without lifting it from his side. The next thing Jan knew the cigar in his mouth was cut in half. What the fuck…? Roaring behind him got his attention and he looked. The entire line of ghouls behind him came apart. Jan glared at the human, watching as blue lines of some sort slid around in front of him.

The human walked forward. ‘Oh, dear. I missed. I guess I’m not as spry as I used to be.’

Jan’s eyes widened. This guy had just killed an army of ghouls from the other end of the corridor!

‘My name is Walter Dornez.’ He tightened the gloves on his hands. ‘Butler to the Hellsing family, and former master vampire hunter.’ He lifted his hand and the blue lines shot out again.

‘Fire!’ Jan ordered the remaining ghouls. They opened fire on the human, but they were slow and sluggish and the human was fast. He leapt out of the way and the blue lines shot out again.

‘Bit on the slow side, aren’t they?’ the human asked. ‘After all, a ghoul is just a ghoul. In theory threatening, certainly tenacious, but honestly they’re quite a distance from indestructible or invincible.’

The ghouls were torn apart. Their blood splattered.

No…humans weren’t capable of this. Humans weren’t capable of this!

‘I highly recommend pissing yourself,’ the human repeated Jan’s own words to the Hellsing bitch, ‘followed by, of course, praying to your impotent God.’

Jan sneered and began to laugh. ‘Now, that’s fucking great! Cause I gotta tell you, ploughing through you people was really starting to bore the fuck outta me!’ He clicked.

A crowd of heavily-armed ghouls gathered around him with heavy shields. They lifted guns and pointed them at Walter.

‘Oh, my.’ The human watched in interest.

‘Hut!’ Jan ordered.

‘Miss Tepes,’ the human said. ‘Now would be a good time for some sport.’

Black tendrils suddenly shot out of nowhere and every ghouls head was punched open. They all dropped. Jan flinched back. ‘What the hell…?!’

A laugh filled the hallway. ‘A real vampire would be perfectly aware of what just happened, boy.’ A blonde chick then stepped right through the wall, grinning widely and her eyes glinting. ‘But, then again, you’re not a real vampire. You’re just a cheap imitation.’

‘Oh, fuck you!’ Jan yelled, rage beginning to build up. She dared to call him a cheap imitation? He was a motherfucking vampire! He grabbed two guns, laughing as he charged her. He was going to rip this bitch limb from limb and make her scream.

Her grin widened and she looked truly frightening. And he didn’t like that. Before he knew what was happening, a sharp pain went through his torso and the guns were ripped from his hands, taking a few fingers with them. He screamed. The taste of his own blood hit his tongue as he hacked.

The next thing he knew, he was looking down the black tendril at the human and the woman. She was grinning widely. The human looked at her.

‘You know you look quite psychotic at the moment.’

‘I’ve been told. He keeps this up, though, and I’m gonna relieve him of his limbs.’

‘Is this all you’ve got?’ Jan asked, trying to maintain his power. ‘No wonder we tore this place apart.’

‘I’ll be asking the questions,’ the human snapped. ‘What is the purpose of this attack? Who are you taking orders from?’

‘Me?’ Jan asked. ‘I’m just a tourist. I was passing by. Totally minding my own business. Thought I’d have a look. So we cool…dude?’

The human and the bitch looked at each other.

The bitch sniggered. ‘You know, if he was a real vampire his sire would have destroyed him by now. He’s too stupid.’

Pain suddenly spiked through Jan’s entire middle. He cried out, spitting more blood.

‘So what exactly are you doing?’ the human asked curiously.

‘Twisting his organs,’ the bitch said. She looked up at him. ‘You wanna try again?’

‘We were following orders, all right!’ he snapped. ‘We were told to attack the Hellsing Headquarters and kill everyone we found inside. We were supposed to confirm the deaths of the Round Table and retrieve your secret weapon from the dungeon.’

‘Hold on,’ Walter said. ‘You’re not the only one in charge here. Who else?’

Jan laughed. ‘Wow. You’re quick. Right now, big brother Valentine is downstairs, heading into the cell.’

‘Actually, he’s still approaching the cells.’ The bitch smirked again. ‘And he’ll get a nasty surprise when he gets there.’

Seras waited. First sign of movement, Crina had said. She waited, tucked into the grove of the gun, half-way through the cell door. She felt bad for Dracula, but she knew Crina was right. If he was fed now, he would just return to being a slave of the Hellsing family.

She was only to feed him if this didn’t work. The dagger lay by her hip, ready for if she missed the target. Spilled blood would rouse him from his starvation-induced coma and then all that was needed was to bring the blood to him, which he could do on his own. It scared Seras a bit, but she understood why.

The door opened and Seras squeezed the trigger.

BOOM!

‘Fuck!’ The fake vampire fell as his legs disconnected at the knees.

Blood.

The sweet scent wafted to his nose. He wanted to move, to seek out the food. His fangs ached and his stomach growled. His tongue curled in his mouth. He inhaled. There was a human in here – a virgin. She’d been in contact with someone though – a scent that taunted his memory. He couldn’t quite place it. There was also something else – the source of the blood – that smelt artificial.

Food…

But in this state – in this hateful state – he could not pull the blood to himself; not without battle orders.

But still he felt the Hell Hound of Baskerville slip from him to seek out the meat it could smell.

‘You’re in no position to make threats,’ Walter said in response to the vampire’s grandstanding.

The vampire laughed. ‘You must be going senile, Alfred.’

Suddenly something caught their eyes. Walter and Crina both looked. Walter looked alarmed but Crina quirked her lips. The vampire then made the attempt to flee, almost tearing himself in half. Crina sneered and let him go. He’d been torn in more than two in a moment. May as well let him think he had some advantage. It made his defeat that much more delicious.

‘And now!’ The vampire landed. ‘For our next trick, check out door number three!’

With the slightest thought Crina lanced them through the skulls. Yes, they were ghouls from the Hellsing personnel, but they weren’t themselves anymore. In the same move she grabbed the vampire again and pinned him to the wall but his throat, arms, and legs. She then walked over casually as he stared in disbelief at the mangled ghoul corpses.

‘What the hell are you?’ he demanded.

‘Even a mongrel like me is regarded more highly than the weak copies that you are,’ Crina said, walking over. ‘Now, I believe I said something about your arms and legs.’

‘Hm?’

In the next instant, the tendrils around his arms and legs tore them right out of their sockets. Blood sprayed. The vampire screamed. The limbs were discarded. Crina reached out and took a hold of his jaw. ‘I honestly don’t care who you are, but a real vampire would hand you more pain than this for even daring to exist in this capacity. You’re not a vampire and you haven’t got the power to proclaim yourself one. You’re proving it at this very moment.’

‘…W-what?’

Crina sneered. ‘A vampire would be able to regrow their limbs right now. You have no such power. You’re a cheap imitation!’ She turned her head, the sneer turning into a mere smirk. ‘I expect you would like to question this cretin, Sir Integra.’

‘Yes, I would.’ Integra strode over, gun in hand. There was a ferocious rage in her from having seen so many of her men turned into ghouls.

Crina stepped aside, but did not let go of the vampire.

The vampire swallowed and smirked. ‘What up, bitch?’

Generally, Crina thought to herself, when they’re this stupid, they’re killed in the first few days.

Integra immediately shot three bullets into him. ‘We’ll have no more of that. I’m pissed off.’

The vampire coughed out the holy round Crina had allowed to enter his throat. ‘Ow…’ He whined.

‘Who the hell are you people?’ Integra demanded. ‘What did you hope to accomplish here? Who’s responsible for this? Start talking!’

The vampire began to laugh instead.

‘Answer!’ Integra snapped.

‘Come on, bitch, you know,’ the vampire said. ‘The ones that put the fucking chip in me. The chip that’s sending them information letting them know we fucked up. They can hear us talking – every last goddamn word. If they knew I was standing here, all fucked up and dying about to tell you everything, you think they’re gonna let me fucking live?’ He suddenly ignited in blue fire.

All three of them – Integra, Walter, and Crina – drew back in alarm. Crina dropped him.

‘See?’ the vampire crowed as he burned. ‘I so fucking told you!’ He laughed. ‘Well, since I’m fucked, how about I piss a little wisdom on you dipshits?’

Walter ran forward to protect Integra from the flames.

‘You can take this clue, and shove it up your ass, bitch! Beware…the…Millennium.’ The vampire dropped to ash.

‘That’s it?’ Integra asked softly. ‘Millennium?’

‘Huh…’ Crina’s mobile suddenly rang. She flipped it open. ‘Hello? Seras, did…What?’

Walter and Integra looked at her.

‘How big?’ Crina asked. ‘How many eyes did it have? Okay…Okay, just come back up here, I’ll come down and clean up later.’ She hung up.

‘What happened?’ Integra asked.

‘Well, the trap worked,’ Crina said. ‘The other one got his legs blown off.’ She furrowed her brow in confusion. ‘But then a six-eyed demon dog came outta the wall and ate him.’

Chapter Text

Walter read the report. ‘Out of the 96 members of the Hellsing Organisation’s Headquarters in London, only 12 are left. 8 of which are only alive because they were away at the time of the attack. Excluding them, the only survivors from this ordeal are myself, Crina Tepes, Seras Victoria, and you, Sir Integra.’

Integra dropped the report on her desk and picked up a cigar. ‘Any word yet on Millennium?’

‘We solicited the resources of the British Intelligence Service, as well as the National Public Safety Commission who went so far as to rummage through the unsorted book stacks at the British Museum. Internationally, we discovered seven occult military enthusiast organisations throughout Japan, France, and the United States, including a Star Wars related club in Los Angeles.’

‘Star Wars?’ Integra asked.

‘The Millennium Falcon,’ Walter elaborated. ‘It’s the name of Han Solo’s ship.’

Integra sat back, annoyed. ‘So what you’re telling me is we have no solid leads at all.’

‘My apologies, ma’am.’ Walter bowed. ‘At this point, the only thing we know is its definition: a span of one thousand years.’

‘Now that is something,’ Integra said.

‘Yes?’

Integra stood up. ‘Don’t you remember, Walter?’ She leaned on her desk. ‘The Empire of the Millennium. The order that sought the glory of a thousand-year kingdom and plunged the entire planet into a world war.’

Walter’s eyes widened.

Integra lit her cigar. ‘Hitler’s Germany. The Millennium Order of the Third Reich.’

‘Count Dracula.’ Crina leaned back in her seat. They had settled into a quiet and empty corner of a small café. ‘The No Life King. King of the Vampires. Vampire King. Call him what you will. He became a vampire in the 1500s from a self-siring. He stepped into a world without a power structure – without rules or laws. It was anarchy. So he fortified his power and gave them a power structure, with himself as the king.’

‘And no one protested to that?’ Seras asked.

‘Of course they did,’ Crina said. ‘They’d lived lawlessly for so long, they were heavily offended that some prince got turned and immediately decided he should be king. However, over time, they saw how it was better. Dracula’s laws meant people started forgetting how to recognise vampires, which made finding a meal easier and there was considerably less running from angry mobs with pitchforks and flame torches. Vampire hunters also began to struggle in finding them.’

‘So, your world accepted his rule because of that?’ Seras asked, biting into her sandwich. It made sense. Laws gave a sense of stability and security. People liked to feel safe, even vampires it seemed.

‘Everyone likes to be safe, even vampires.’ Crina smiled to herself, likely intentionally echoing the words in her head. ‘Hell, they even started enforcing the laws my father set out without his input. It made life safer for humans too. While tată was in charge, things like the Cheddar village massacre just didn’t happen. Or, if they did, they did not go so far.’

‘Because it was illegal?’

‘That and my father had both a short temper and a sadistic streak a mile wide,’ Crina said. ‘You didn’t want to displease him – especially if you were no one to him.’

‘Well, he was Vlad the Impaler.’

‘Correct.’

‘And that’s what Van Hellsing did, isn’t it?’ Seras asked. ‘When he enslaved your father, he took that protection away from all of us – human and vampire alike.’

‘Yes.’ Crina scowled. ‘Of course, he didn’t see it that way. Humans rarely do. Vampires derive sustenance from your blood. I understand that most of you have a problem with that. Is that any reason for the antelope to kill all the lions though?’

‘No.’ Seras sighed. ‘So what about the rest of vampirekind?’

‘They want their king back,’ Crina said. ‘If this is the only way to do it, they will take that risk. They’ve seen it or they’ve heard of it. The seal on my father acts like kind of a shock collar. If he refuses to kill a particular vampire, for instance, it riddles his body with agony.’

Seras gasped. ‘Then how do you…?’

Crina nodded her head. ‘Break the seal? You can’t. The only way it can be rendered inert is if the family it seals him to – the Hellsings – no longer exist.’

‘Sir Integra,’ Walter said. ‘In light of your orders to bolster our current Hellsing membership, I’ve taken the liberty of hiring professional mercenaries.’

‘Mercenaries?’ Integra asked doubtfully. ‘Men motivated by a lust for money. Can we trust such soldiers?’

‘Normally, I wouldn’t. But these men are proper professionals. As long as they have a contract and get their money on time, the Wild Geese will never break their word.’

Pip Bernadotte had brought his Wild Geese to Hellsing Mansion in London. With that civil war over, it looked like they needed a new job. This place was some kind of special operations unit that had just lost a majority of their men. It wasn’t surprising. Mercenaries were usually hired for such jobs.

‘Captain Bernadotte, what the hell is this?’ one of his men asked him.

‘Heh.’

‘So…what?’ another asked. ‘Are we going to be fighting in London?’

All the men were agitated, actually.

‘Since when do we work security guards?’

‘I didn’t sign up to shadow some rich arsehole.’

‘My God, you people!’ Pip was amazed that his men were so picky. ‘I really can’t think of any other way to put this so here it is: they are going to be paying us to kill monsters.’

‘They’re gonna be paying us to do what?’

A few of the other guys chuckled.

‘Monsters, you’ve gotta be kidding me.’

‘It’s true.’

Pip looked up at the new arrival. At first it took him a moment to realise that was a woman – she looked more like a skinny man. She also had a firm, no-nonsense expression on her face. Which was odd considering what she’d called them here for. It seemed a contradiction in terms. Pip studied her as she continued.

‘The enemies are immortal creatures who sustain themselves by drinking human blood.’ What was amazing was that she said that with a straight face. ‘Your job, gentlemen, is to fight these monsters with bullets, garlic, and holy water. Put a stake though his heart, cut off his head, burn the corpse, scatter the ashes to the crossroads. For further instructions, consult Bram Stoker.’

‘That’s just ridiculous,’ his second in command said.

‘Everybody knows there’s no such thing as vampires,’ Fatty added.

The Hellsing woman smirked widely. ‘Crina, will you come in here?’

Pip was expecting someone to walk through the door. Instead, he watched as a woman stepped right through the solid wall.

The smirks immediately fell off of their faces. The men all jumped back. Pip fell clean off his chair. What the hell? The woman was tall and blonde, with bright blue eyes. She held a mug in her hand and a bag in her other marked: PLASMA – A+. She eyed them over in disinterest. She wore a black overcoat and black jeans. Her undercoat was red and her shirt was white. She tore the plasma bag open with her teeth and poured the blood into the mug She spat the tag into the nearest bin.

‘So these are the mercenaries, eh?’ she asked, a Romanian accent tinging her words. ‘Don’t look like much to me. You sure they could take out a vampire?’

‘Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?’ Integra Hellsing – that was her name, Pip remembered – remarked. She turned back to them and gestured to Crina. ‘Gentlemen, this is Crina Tepes, a human-vampire hybrid, otherwise known as a dhampir. She has all the powers of a true vampire, but none of the weaknesses.’

The surname rang a bell but it took Pip a moment to place it. ‘Tepes? As in…?’ Vlad Tepes; Vlad III of Wallachia; Vlad the Impaler…But that wasn’t a last name.

Vlad Tepes and Vlad the Impaler…literally meant the same thing.

‘That’s right.’ Crina smirked. ‘I get my dhampir status directly from the infamous Count Dracula.’ She swallowed a mouthful of blood. ‘And I’ll be giving you a crash course in vampire hunting, gentlemen. Quite a few of the stories you’ve heard are simply untrue.’

A cute elfin blonde girl stuck her head in, looked them over, and giggled. She then spoke to Crina. ‘Are you done tormenting the mercenaries yet, Crina?’

Crina looked at them and grinned. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

An older man walked in then. ‘Now that introductions are over,’ he flicked out an envelope for Hellsing, ‘a most unusual letter arrived in the post today.’

Hellsing took the letter. ‘What sort of letter?’ She looked down and read it, muttering to herself.

That was just fine with him.

Pip was going to need time to acclimatise to this idea.

Chapter Text

The meeting place was the British National Museum.

‘What time is it, Walter?’ Integra asked her butler.

‘It’s just past three.’

Integra stared up at the painting in front of her, annoyed. ‘They arranged this meeting and still managed to be late. Do you think it’s a trap?’

‘I doubt Iscariot would be bold enough to stage a daylight attack, especially an attack in public right in the heart of enemy territory,’ Walter said.

Italian-accented chattering drew her attention. Integra looked over. There they were. Enrico Maxwell and his right-hand man were walking towards them. Irritation stirred in her guts. They were certainly taking their time about it. Integra kept the glare on her face as she watched them approach.

They stopped when they noticed her. Maxwell looked at the man with him. ‘I think we’re a bit late.’

‘It would appear so, sir.’

‘Oh, dear!’ Maxwell walked forward, playing up his false civility. ‘So sorry to keep you waiting—’

‘That’s close enough!’ Integra snapped, stopping his approach. ‘What business does the Vatican have here, and why send the Iscariots, the dirtiest of their dirty little secrets?’

Maxwell smirked. ‘How unfortunate. It appears our reputation has preceded us.’ He pulled off his glasses. ‘Allow me to introduce myself.’ He bowed respectfully. ‘My name is Enrico Maxwell. I’m the head of the Iscariot Organisation. It is an honour to meet you.’

‘I really don’t care who you are.’ Integra told him. ‘Just tell me what you want.’

Maxwell straightened up. ‘There is no need to take such a harsh tone. We didn’t come all the way to England just to pick a fight with you, Sir Integra.’

Integra turned around fully. ‘I don’t believe you! You’ve done nothing but show contempt for our treaties. This latest incident with Anderson in Northern Ireland was inexcusable! He killed two of my best men in Badrick. I barely managed to escape with my head still attached and you have the gall—’

‘Shut up!’ Maxwell barked, crushing his glasses in his hand.

Integra narrowed her eyes. ‘How dare you!’

‘You really expect us to just let you do as you please?’ Maxwell asked. He dropped the glasses fragments. ‘Two men? If we had slaughtered two million of your protestant scum I would not have shed a tear. I’m here on the direct orders from His Holiness, otherwise I would not bother with you filthy creatures.’ He leaned forward with a toothy sneer. ‘So just shut up and pay attention, you miserable English sow.’

‘Sow?’ Crina chuckled as she stepped through the wall and stopped behind Integra.

It was quite amusing to watch Maxwell draw back with a gasp. ‘Dhampir!’

‘Very good.’ Crina smirked at him. ‘I guess you missed the memo, though. These days territory is not marked by religion, but rather by officially recognised borders. Northern Ireland is officially recognised as a part of the United Kingdom which is under Her Majesty’s sovereignty and, therefore, Hellsing’s jurisdiction. You were the one who had no business being there.’

Maxwell ground his teeth.

‘As for that “sow” comment, hasn’t anybody told you?’ She chuckled. ‘As far as Orders of monster hunters go, Hellsing is the Organisation to be wary of. It’s run in an intimidating way; the family leading it is intimating. These are the people who defeated the Vampire King. Iscariot has one intimidating agent. Aside from that, encounters with you make for a good joke later on.’

Integra smirked. She knew Crina was friends with many of the other dhampirs around. It should be expected that some of them followed more the vampiric side of their natures – based just on what she’d seen – or even if they mingled in with other supernatural beings. Either way, there was no question how she knew that.

‘ANDERSON!’ Maxwell yelled.

‘Ah!’ Crina grinned widely as she saw the man in question at the other end of the hallway. ‘Speak of the devil.’

Anderson struck one of his bayonets into the marble floor. ‘Ask of me and I shall give thee the heathen for thine and heretics.’ He advanced. ‘And for thine possession the ends of the Earth. I shall break them with a rod of iron. I shall dash them in pieces, like a potter’s…’ And he went on and on.

Maxwell suddenly seemed to realise fighting in a museum wasn’t the brightest idea. Crina didn’t seem to register the same though. A wide anticipatory grin crossed her face and she bent her knees, preparing for the fight. Maxwell tried to stop Anderson, but the man was clearly too carried away.

Integra and Walter drew back in preparation.

Crina and Anderson stood just a few feet away from each other. Crina chuckled. ‘Well, neither of us could back off a fight. The question is: who’s going to strike first, Judas Priest?’

Anderson laughed. ‘You won’t be so lucky this time, half-breed.’

‘Stop!’ Maxwell barked. ‘I’m ordering you to stop!’

Suddenly Seras came between, guiding a crowd of senior citizens between the two. ‘Hi! Right this way everybody!’ She waved a hi-vis flag for them. ‘Everyone with the Japanese Tour, right this way, please! Konnichiwa! Right this way. Walking!’

Crina straightened up. ‘Well, Seras is right. This is neither the time nor the place for a fight.’

‘Yes. May have a point.’ Anderson tucked his bayonets away.

Crina turned and walked away. ‘Well, I’m going back to sleep. I don’t like being up during the day. It’s exhausting.’

Anderson walked off too, but not before stopping by Maxwell. ‘If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’m going back to Rome.’ He smiled at him. ‘I must say, this is an excellent museum. Perhaps next time, you’ll allow me to bring some of the children from the orphanage.’

‘Of course,’ Maxwell said. ‘That would be lovely.’

Anderson continued on his way. ‘Next time I swear I will rip her to bloody pieces.’

Integra chuckled to herself. I’d like to see you try. She waited until Maxwell turned around. ‘It seems we both have to contend with some rather difficult subordinates.’ She inclined her head. ‘Well, are you done, pig?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Maxwell said, sufficiently cowed. ‘I am quite done. Now that the violence is out of the way, perhaps you would care to join me in the café galley?’

‘Hmph.’ Integra smirked. ‘Well, after you then.’

Twenty minutes later, they came to the business Maxwell had come to England to discuss. It had something to do with the culprits on the attack on her men. Apparently the Vatican was in possession of the information. The Pope had decided to share the information, even if Maxwell didn’t like it.

‘Millennium, correct?’ Maxwell said. He tapped a finger on his suitcase. ‘I know this is special operations business but we do have some information regarding Millennium. Do you want our finds? Do you really wish to know what we know?’

Integra glared at him.

‘Come on!’ Maxwell was still fishing. ‘Yes, or no?’

This was no time to be prideful. ‘Yes, please.’

Maxwell, of course, began laughing. He recovered himself quickly though and opened up the briefcase. He tossed a small book on the table. ‘I give you Millennium.’

Integra narrowed her eyes and picked up the book. She started looking through it.

‘It started over half a century ago,’ Maxwell said. ‘During the Second World War. Nazi Party loyalists were preparing to flee from Germany. An extraction operation began just as allied forces took the country. Understandably, they needed enough time to evacuate while still standing their ground long enough not to be considered traitors. The majority of these party members and soldiers ended up in South America, where they found refuge with a number of…Nazi sympathisers.’

‘They’re survivors of the Millennium group?’ Integra asked.

Maxwell was just setting the briefcase aside. ‘Yes. Millennium also refers to the classified operation to move these individuals and supplies to South America. And the military unit that carried out the orders.’

Integra looked up, realisation setting in.

‘Oh, you just figured out how we know all this!’ Maxwell looked a little too pleased with himself. ‘Yes, we helped the Nazis do it! The Vatican gave their full support and helped create the Millennium group!’

Inside the café were two men, listening to this.

‘I think perhaps they’re starting to put it together,’ the man by the window said. ‘They know about Millennium.’

‘Put it together, you say?’ asked the man sitting down, grinning widely. ‘Nonsense. They don’t know anything about anything.’

The first man turned. ‘Is it my imagination, or are you enjoying this?’

‘Enjoying is hardly the verb for this feeling, Doktor,’ the second man said. ‘I’m ecstatic! Positively giddy with anticipation. Just think of what a terrible bloody struggle awaits us. It will be the greatest struggle of them all. Egrost kamf!’ Certainly his grin was wide enough.

‘And the dhampir?’

‘A small complication.’ He chuckled. ‘I had not known the vampire had such a living relation walking around – then again, neither did he. She was resurrected with his blood. He didn’t need to be present for it. All we have to do now is wait for her to awaken her dear old Uncle Alucard.’

Chapter Text

‘I assume you’ve heard the news,’ Walter said.

Crina nodded once. ‘Yes.’

‘The Nazis again. I fought them once when I was a boy.’

‘I had heard about that too.’ Crina inclined her head. ‘They said you worked with a partner of a supernatural persuasion back then.’

Walter turned with a light smile. ‘I was still a boy. I needed to be taught.’

‘Hmm. We all have to learn somehow.’

‘Speaking of which, we’d like you to take Miss Victoria with you.’

‘I intended to. I want to get the girl used to what I do.’

‘I thought she’d become accustomed to your blood-drinking. She barely bats an eyelid at it anymore.’

‘She sees me drink blood like it’s a cup of tea,’ Crina said. ‘Never seen me take it right from the source though. If we do encounter any of these Millennium jackasses in Brazil, that’ll be the quickest way to get information.’

‘You can read someone’s mind by drinking their blood?’ It was something Alucard had been able to do as well.

‘Basic vampire power,’ Crina explained. ‘I think it’s something to do with giving a vampire the most efficient way to train a new childe to this life.’

‘I see.’

Crina grinned. ‘Let’s be honest, Walter. There’s not a lot of people who are willing to enlist the undead to do their fighting. Did you see their undead research institute completely destroyed, or was that just an assumption? I heard you killed every last Nazi you found.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Walter remarked. ‘God, it’s been ages.’ He looked her right in the eye. ‘Crina, you already know we’re sending you to South America. You want to take the police girl with you. Anyone else?’

‘It’d do some good to take one of those Geese with us,’ she said. ‘Preferably the leader – Pip, isn’t it? – so he can see how this shit rolls.’

‘An excellent idea,’ Walter agreed. ‘Fighting wars is one thing but, I’m sure they’ll find, wars against vampires are quite another.’

‘And, cheap imitations or not, these vampires are not going to be easy to take down,’ Crina added.

Walter nodded. ‘We’re not the sort of people used to stepping down – especially when someone is very clearly trying to pick a fight.’

‘Huh.’ Crina inclined her head. ‘That is a very British attitude. I should think discretion would fit you better.’

‘If something can be achieved easily, it probably isn’t worth it.’

Crina grinned.

The door opened and Crina turned to see Integra.

‘Good evening,’ she said. ‘Has Walter explained the situation?’

‘He has.’

‘The orders, then, are simple: search and destroy. Now go.’

Crina smiled. ‘A pleasure, Sir Integra.’

They went by private jet.

At the motel, when the bellboy offered them two separate rooms, Crina grinned at them. ‘Want to see something cool?’ She lifted her fingers to the bellboy’s nose. ‘We’ll be staying in the penthouse.’

The bellboy’s eyes suddenly glazed. ‘You’ll be staying in the penthouse.’

‘Thank you kindly.’ Crina took the keys and led them up. ‘Mamă always taught me to use my manners.’

Pip’s place was less flattering. ‘So you two get a penthouse and I’m stuck with a cheap hotel.’

Crina smiled at him. ‘Cheap hotels can be extremely charming.’

Pip wasn’t impressed with this. But he went. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘We’ll start the investigation tomorrow. I’ll come by for you two once the sun sets. Since you’re half-vampire I presume you like to work at night?’

‘I can hardly wait.’ Crina had seen the guy spying on them though. ‘Good evening.’

Seras was eating supper when Crina put down the book she was reading and walked over to the window. For most of the time in the motel, she’d been on the phone. She’d only just settled down. Crina looked up and clicked her tongue when a helicopter flew past and shined a light right into her face. Crina huffed, and turned. She pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and sent a text.

‘What’s going on?’ Seras asked.

‘Apparently, we’ve been noticed,’ Crina said. ‘An agent of Millennium told the local authorities that we’re highly-dangerous terrorists. They’ve got shoot-to-kill orders.’

‘Huh?’ Seras dropped the fork. ‘What do we do?’

‘I just texted Pip.’ Crina looked at her. ‘You remember when we first met?’

‘Yeah.’

Crina nodded her head. ‘Get in the wardrobe.’

Seras ran over and climbed into a wardrobe that was off to the side of the room. She jumped up and rolled onto the empty shelf. She was really surprised it held her weight. Crina closed the door after her. Seras curled up on the shelf and waited, heart pounding in her chest. Every second seemed to stretch on forever.

The door was kicked in. Gunfire suddenly rattled through the room. After a few moments, it died down.

Crina spoke, alerting Seras to the fact that she was all right. ‘Well, that was a perfectly good window.’

‘What the hell?’ someone yelled.

The next thing she heard was the sound of aborted yells and screams and bodies hitting the floor. The last thing she heard was a gunshot, then a loud snarl from Crina. It brought back memories of the night she’d first met the dhampir. Seras wondered what was going on out there. She didn’t have to wait long in order to find out.

‘Okay, you can come out now.’

Seras stepped out of the wardrobe and froze. Last time she’d been a little girl. Crina had been aware that the sight would have been traumatic. She’d covered her eyes so she’d seen nothing. Now, Seras saw everything. Bodies were scattered all over the floor in pieces. Throats had been torn and blood covered the floor, walls, and stained the carpet.

‘Crina…?’

‘Prepare for battle.’

‘But…’

‘Is there a problem?’ Crina growled, sounding truly annoyed.

‘But…Crina…these are humans!’

‘Yes. And?’

‘These people are human beings!’

Crina glared at her. ‘You forget, Seras! My father was Vlad the Impaler! He slaughtered 40,000 of these human beings to protect our borders! I’m not really going to throw a fuss over killing a few more – especially not ones who kick the door in and shoot to kill! I’ve been killed before, in case you forget!’ She pointed to a small circular scar above her collarbone. ‘I don’t fancy a repeat of the experience!’

‘I know but…they’re just…’

‘Besides,’ Crina said, calming herself, ‘humans are part of my diet on a bad day. The fox feels no guilt for devouring the hare. This is just the way it is.’ She turned her back. ‘Come along now, Seras. There is no time for any culture shock.’

Seras was silent for a moment. ‘Yes...Right.’

Crina pulled out her cell phone and dialled.

Integra answered very soon. ‘Who is it?’

‘Crina,’ she said. ‘I just dispatched a SWAT team that was sent into this room with shoot-to-kill orders. I assure you that I made their deaths as painless as I possibly could. There is a second SWAT team outside the doors and the building is surrounded by the local authorities under the impression that we are terrorists. I’m calling for further instructions.’

Integra was silent for a moment. ‘What did you do to that SWAT team?’

‘I ripped their heads off, fast enough that they wouldn’t have felt a thing. The last thing they would have been consciously aware of was me coming at them.’ Crina’s eyes narrowed. ‘My father was Vlad the Impaler. I feel no guilt for killing in order to survive. Not one of them is left standing. Your orders, Sir Integra?’ She waited. ‘I believe the policia are under Millennium’s control. These people may be ignorant humans but if they try to kill us, I will kill them first. I will not hesitate. I regret nothing of this. Just give me the order.’

For a long moment, Integra said nothing. Then she gave the order Crina had been looking for. ‘Don’t you dare question my resolve! I’ve already given you your marching orders, soldier! You will search and destroy! Search and destroy! Any resistance you encounter is to be crushed! Hellsing does not run from our enemies! Kill them all! I order you to leave nothing but bloody stains in your wake!’

Crina chuckled. ‘I was hoping you’d say that. It shall be done.’ She hung up.

‘Crina?’ Seras asked, unsure.

‘Get the bazooka and meet me on the roof,’ Crina said. ‘I’m off to find this guy.’

She walked out.

The SWAT team waited outside the room. It had gone silent. There was no sign of the first team. They should have reported back by now. Every man waited with bated breath. Then, suddenly, the doors opened. Instead of the first SWAT team, though, one of the targets walked out – the taller one. With startling audacity, she strolled out, twirling a handgun on each forefinger. She chuckled in enjoyment at their fear.

She hadn’t overcome the entire first team, had she? By herself?

One of the men opened fire, which brought the other men to remember what they were supposed to do. They all opened fire. Not a single bullet seemed to hit her, though. Instead, it looked like they passed right through her. Soon, they ran out of ammo. The woman chuckled and turned. She opened fire herself.

True to her word to her boss, not a single man felt the pain of his death. Each was punched between the eyes with a bullet a man. One of the men started screaming for help into his radio. Half of the team fell before the others decided running was a good idea. They all rushed to the elevator, crowding in with terror – what kind of person could survive being shot at by such well-trained men.

As the last of the men gathered in the elevator, one of the men hit the “close doors” button. The doors began to slide closed. The men began to breathe a sigh of relief. The doors closed and the elevator began to move. The men heaved a collective huff. They were safe. Then they heard a voice from above their heads and they all looked up.

‘You didn’t really think you could get away so easily, did you?’

The woman was there, crouching in the upper-back corner of the elevator like Spider-Man or something. The grin on her face was wide and deranged, though, like they were stuck in the metal box with Batman’s Joker. The men had no time to react. She jumped down, heading for the nearest man.

The elevator was filled with screams.

Chapter Text

The elevator doors opened. Crina sat upon the pile of bodies, gnawing on a man’s severed arm as she waited. God, I would have loved to do this to those fucking Turks. She dropped the limb and sauntered out. Twirling her freshly-reloaded guns, Crina looked about the place. There were men in the lobby too. Search lights shone outside. She waited for them to attack.

All six men went flying through the glass doors. Crina stepped out, ignoring the lines of panicking humans, and looked at her handiwork. Tată would be pleased. The men had all been impaled on the six flagpoles surrounding the hotel. While impalements through the arsehole were slow and painful, impalements through the torso were much quicker – if only because they were more likely to skewer vital organs. You also passed out from the pain of it so fast you didn’t even register you’d even felt pain in the first place.

Then a suave man in a brown suit walked through the barricade. ‘You really shouldn’t play with your food.’

‘Yeah.’ Crina rubbed her earlobe. ‘Mamă used to tell me that. But then tată would throw bits of food at me to see if I could catch it in my mouth.’ She looked at him. ‘So who the hell are you?’

He bowed theatrically. ‘My name is Tubalcain Alhambra, Miss Crina. But some people have taken to calling me Dandyman.’

‘Oh, really?’ Crina walked down. ‘So did these poor souls belong to you?’

Dandyman straightened a little and pushed back his hat with a finger. ‘Oh, you’re speaking of those unfortunate men up there.’ He looked at the impaled bodies. ‘Their superiors were fools and so they allow their men to end up in such a state. Truly amazing what some people will do on the promise of immortality.’ He lifted a card.

Crina smirked. ‘You do realise that, as a chipped vampire, you cannot actually grant immortality?’

‘Yes, of course. But there was no reason to tell them that.’

‘So you got a bunch of men killed for shits and giggles?’

‘Partially. I was also under direct orders from my own superiors to test what you would do in such a situation. Apparently, they wish to see how like your uncle you are.’

‘Are they satisfied?’ Crina asked. ‘Is this the part where you try to kill me?’

Dandyman gave a toothy grin. He lifted his arm and cards started swirling around him in a concentrated pattern. ‘You see, Millennium has given me the task of bringing you in. Well, at least a sample of you in.’ The cards swirled around her and then went flying at her.

Judging them to be more lethal than they looked, Crina dodged. The cards obliterated the series of steps where she’d been standing. She landed on the same level as him. Keeping an eye on him, Crina dodged as he fired more and more at her. The problem with crowds, she mused, was that they tended to get caught in the crossfire, and that was true here.

But they were also clearly too dumb to turn tail and run.

Crina didn’t have holy bullets so she didn’t bother with her guns. Instead she struck like a snake – diving in for a hit and then bouncing back again. It was a tactic she’d watched her father work through when they were both human. Dandyman dodged just as easily. Crina was just glad he started running away from the direction of the human crowd.

Finally Crina got him in the neck.

There was no sound of bones breaking. Instead he came apart with a mass of cards. Hm. Card clones. So where was the…? Crina’s question was answered as she was hit by a mass of exploding cards at her back. She flew forward and hit the ground. Pushing herself up, Crina turned her head. There he was, standing behind her with a smarmy grin.

‘And right into my trap.’ Dandyman clicked.

A ring of cards appeared around Crina. She moved right before the deadly explosion though. She didn’t escape entirely. Her feet came to rest on the side of the building. The Dandyman looked where she had been and waited for the smoke to clear. Crina quite enjoyed the look on his face when he realised she wasn’t there.

Well, this is fun. Crina let out an exhilarated growl. The Dandyman spun around and quickly found her. It was time for her to go up to the roof, where Seras was waiting. Crina ran vertically up the building wall. She trusted that the Dandyman would follow. Idly, she wondered where Pip was.

A quick scan, and she was chuckling.

Pip approached the tent.

‘Mr. Alhambra’s still in the middle of fighting,’ someone said.

‘If anything happens to him, who’ll give us our immortality?’ the other man responded.

Sir Integra had called him and told him to neutralise these guys. He could see why too. Crina had told the boss the policia had attacked under the impression that they were terrorists. Then came the fight in front of the hotel. It had been clear that the brass, or whatever they were called in civilian units, had intentionally sent men to die.

As a leader himself, Pip was disgusted at that.

They deserved to die.

And so they would.

Crina knelt on the roof, lapping at her own blood. The wounds were slow in healing though. ‘I can’t stop bleeding. Those cards of his must be very special indeed.’ She glanced back. ‘I should add them to my collection once I’m done here.’ She dropped her head again and chuckled. ‘Magic playing cards. How interesting.’

Dandyman finally arrived.

Crina chuckled again. ‘You, sir, Dandyman, are very amusing.’ She looked back. ‘Hi.’

‘Are you ready for another round, Miss Crina?’ Dandyman asked. ‘I bet they have a special place ready for you in the deepest pits of hell.’

Crina laughed.

‘What?’ Dandyman now seemed annoyed. ‘Is something funny?’

‘I’m just pleased is all,’ Crina said. ‘Most chipped vampires are all bark and no bite. So weak they make fledgling vampires look powerful. It’s why true vampires keep killing them. They’re an embarrassment to the species. You, on the other hand, have something a bit fun.’ She stood up. ‘But, in the end, you are still just a chipped vampire.’ She turned around, eyes glowing. ‘A new Millennium group! A revived Last Battalion! Last time, it was the Count! This time, let’s see if I can live up to him, shall we? I’m grateful that the world still breeds such madness!’ She spun around. ‘Now, it’s time to play, Dandyman! I’d like to hear you squeal like a pig!’

Dandyman smirked. ‘You expect me to squeal? You’re serious? Don’t you see what is happening? If only the world was so simple. You really have gone completely soft in the head!’ He threw more cards in her direction.

Crina transformed her body. The cards went right through her without touching or harming her once. Dandyman narrowed his eyes.

‘Trying to run again?’ he asked, lifting his cards. ‘Useless.’

‘Oh, not at all.’ Crina’s voice sounded from all around. ‘I’m still here.’

A missile suddenly hit his cards and bounced off them. They sent his cards flying and his hand tingled. Seras loaded again and fired. Crina grinned to herself as Dandyman growled in frustration, using his cards as a shield. That was not an ordinary bazooka. It could fire off several rounds – and it looked like Seras had just discovered that little fact. Dust flew up and surrounded Dandyman.

‘Bitch!’ Dandyman yelled. He was suddenly sounded by smog. ‘I’ve had enough of this!’

Crina materialised behind him. Dandyman turned and grabbed a card. He aimed at the dhampir’s head. Crina smirked and grabbed his forearm. She squeezed. The Dandyman’s eyes bugged and he screamed. He pulled, trying to escape. His voice became high-pitched and he squealed. Crina grinned in dark satisfaction. His forearm tore in half under her grip.

‘There it is.’ She grabbed his head with her other hand as she let go and quickly relieved him of his cards as she lifted him. Pocketing them, she adjusted her grip on him and levelled him with a smirk. He stared in horror, finally understanding that picking a fight with Alucard’s “niece” was not the brightest idea. ‘It’s time to start dealing with the business at hand. I’m now required to give you a thorough interrogation. You are going to tell me everything you know – well, your blood will anyway.’

Crina grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.

She bit into his throat and began to drink.

Seras watched as Crina fed.

Over the past few months, she’d grown used to Crina drinking blood. The woman would consistently drink the donated stuff out of a mug like anyone else would drink tea. Over time, one became desensitised to it. The Wild Geese would soon enough. Her savage fighting style was also something Seras had gradually been desensitised to. At times she wondered if that made her a bad person.
Now, watching Crina drink blood right from the source, Seras found she felt no disgust. Her analogies over the past few months came back to her: snake and shrew, lion and antelope, fox and hare. These were all things that vampires or dhampirs and humans could be compared to. They were predator and prey and no more.

It was as simple as that.

The chipped vampire burst into flames underneath her and Crina dropped him. She started clapping. Seras got up and wandered over. Crina had began laughing as well. She was doubled over, gripping her stomach and she laughed to her heart’s content. Seras wondered what was so funny.

‘Crina?’ she asked.

Crina grinned at her. ‘He thinks he’s inciting a war.’ She shook her head. ‘Wars are fought between nations for political reasons – not because some smarmy little Nazi with a vampire army thinks he can start one. At the very most, he’s a terrorist. Nothing more. This will be bloody, and a lot of people will die. But it won’t be war.’

Pip then arrived with a helicopter.

Chapter Text

Crina sat in the lobby of Pip’s motel, flicking through a book. Next to her, the phone was on speaker. ‘The targets are neutralised. Millennium, it appears, is trying to incite a new war.’

‘Well done, Crina,’ Integra said. ‘Save your report for when you arrive back, though. Her Majesty herself has called for a gathering of the Round Table.’

‘Ah.’ Crina turned a page. ‘What an honour.’

‘Return at once to make your report. Do not keep her waiting.’

‘As you say.’

‘Hm. How’s that book coming along?’

Crina looked down at it again. ‘Well, so far the only thing Stoker got right was the fears of the villagers and the fact that the vampire women existed.’

‘That’s all?’

‘Hm. You haven’t read it?’

‘Unlike you, I’ve never met Dracula. I couldn’t see any inconsistencies between his actions in the novel and his actual behaviour.’

‘True. We’ll return to England as soon as we can.’ She hung up.

When Pip and Seras returned half an hour later, she told them.

‘No,’ Pip said. ‘No way.’ He didn’t want to fly again, which it looked like they had to.

‘But going by boat will take us an extra week,’ Seras pointed out.

‘Private jet is out of the question,’ Pip said. ‘I had enough of that the first time around.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Crina said. ‘It wasn’t so bad.’

Pip gave her a bland look.

Suddenly the door was kicked in. Pip and Seras nearly jumped out of their skin. Crina looked over in vague disinterest. ‘Anderson, didn’t your mother ever teach you how to knock?’

Anderson pitched a sheet of paper on a knife at her with pinpoint accuracy. It hit the wall over her shoulder. Crina lifted an eyebrow and looked. As she did, Anderson explained. ‘The Vatican has a small private jet 13kms north of here. There’s your release paper. People are expecting you. So take it and get the hell outta here before I decide to disobey orders.’

He stormed out.

‘Huh?’ Pip asked.

‘He’s weird,’ Seras said.

‘He’s conflicted,’ Crina corrected her. ‘Vampire hunters generally have the world split up into nice and clean “good” and “evil” categories. Beings like me make the whole thing that much more complex, you know: being a cross between something they consider good and something they consider evil.’

Pip just sniggered.

On the jet, Crina turned this latest problem over in her head.

She had heard that, in World War II, her father had contact with the English Queen – then Crown Princess – so there was every possibility that the Queen would know that Crina was Dracula’s daughter and not his niece. This wasn’t a situation she could bow out of or avoid. She considered the two she needed to maintain her charade to.

Were either of them likely to “correct” their Queen?

No. She didn’t think so.

That would be speaking out of turn.

Were they likely to believe the Queen was simply mistaken?

…Yes.

Crina could easily see them believing that the Queen had made the same “mistake” as everyone else – even themselves. Though she had met and spent time with Alucard…well, Walter considered him a leashed monster. The idea that he could talk to the royal woman under his protection would never occur to him.

And this would be the first Integra would even hear about Alucard.

Crina wasn’t absolutely sure, but she had no sense that Integra Hellsing knew there was a starved vampire in her dungeon. Her reaction to the demon dog was to send Walter and Crina down to comb the dungeon. Walter had been about to send her to look through the area where her father was, but Crina beat him to it and left that part to him.

As she suspected, he didn’t argue.

He’d have no safe answer if he insisted, and she asked why.

So…Crina’s secret was safe, she was 90% sure.

The dice would simply have to be rolled.

England
Integra sat at the head of the table. The Queen, of course, was situated on the throne upon an elevated part of the room behind Integra. The Round Table committee sat on one side of the long table. Maxwell and his right-hand man sat on the other side of the table. They were waiting on one person.

The door at the end of the hallway suddenly opened. Crina led Seras and Pip in. Crina stepped in, leading the two humans. ‘Buna dimineata.’

Beside her, Walter responded. ‘And good morning to you.’

Crina smiled.

‘Speaking Romanian.’ The Queen spoke up from the head of the room. ‘The Princess Crina of Wallachia, of the House of Barsarab.’

Crina smiled. ‘At Her Majesty’s pleasure, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been addressed by my full name and title.’

Integra was only mildly startled. Crina hadn’t mentioned she was of such high royal prestige – although probably not anymore. Then again, she was the daughter of Vlad the Impaler. The man had, technically, at one point been the ruler of that territory in Romania. Prince Vlad III, Integra suddenly remembered. It stood to reason that she’d been heir to the throne in that timeframe.

‘Approach, Crina,’ the Queen said.

Crina stepped away from the table and walked over. She ascended the stairs, as was allowed for other royals approaching the Queen, and dropped to her right knee before the matriarch of the British Royal Family. She kept her head lifted though, as she would be considered high enough in status to do that.

The Queen reached out and placed a hand under Crina’s chin. ‘You look just like your father.’

For a moment, Integra was confused. Father? She looked at Walter in question. It was clear that the Queen had made the same mistake as everyone else: believing that Vlad the Impaler was Count Dracula. But at what point could the Count have come into contact with the Queen of England?

Crina, likely out of a sense of protocol, didn’t bother correcting her. ‘You met him?’

‘During the Blitz.’ The Queen said something most peculiar. ‘He went by the name Alucard at this time. He was tasked by his master with my protection when the city was infiltrated. He not only kept me safe but he kept me warm as well.’ There was something underlying her statement.

Integra looked to Walter for some explanation.

Walter leaned over and whispered. ‘Your great-grandfather did not kill Count Dracula. He sealed him into servitude to your family and renamed him Alucard.’

‘And where is this vampire now?’ Integra wondered why this hadn’t been mentioned before.

‘In the dungeon,’ Walter answered. ‘He is locked in a cell with a vampire barrier keeping him in place and he has not had a drop of blood in 30 years. He is no longer a danger to anyone.’

That would have to suffice. Far better it be for him to stay there anyway. It would not do for Crina to learn where her uncle was. But why had he been free and in such close contact with the Queen? Integra decided to try and draw this whimsical conversation to a close. Whatever the Queen was saying, she drew it to a close instead and gave Crina instructions.

‘Proceed with your report, dhampir.’

Crina stood up and turned around. ‘55 years ago, a deranged Nazi Major attempted to breed a vampire army. We in the supernatural world all heard about it, of course. Walter, I believe you were actually there?’

‘I was,’ Walter said. ‘I was 15 at the time and I was working with a figure called Alucard who was, at the time, in the guise of a young lady. We killed every Nazi we found.’

Ah. That must’ve been it. He had been released for the war. It must’ve been a very uncertain time and they pulled out everything they had.

‘It seems you missed the Major himself,’ Crina said, walking down and circling the table. ‘Along with several other key players. They appear to have simply refused to die. They’ve returned, replenished their numbers, and are preparing to attack again with the hopes of starting a new war. That’s what Millennium truly is: the Last Battalion.’

Everyone at the table sat in complete shock.

Suddenly there was a new voice. ‘I guess Mr. Tubalcain’s blood must’ve given us away!’

Everyone in the room turned in surprise.

‘The Major sure blew that one.’

‘Jesus F-ing Christ!’ Crina yelled as several guns came out. ‘How did you do that?!’

The person, who appeared to be a blond fourteen year old boy in a Hitler Youth outfit with cat ears, lifted his hands. ‘Whoa, there!’ He walked forward. ‘I’m just the messenger. I’m not here to fight anyone.’

‘Explain this,’ Integra ordered.

‘My deepest apologies, ma’am,’ Walter said. ‘I don’t know how he got past security.’

The boy pulled a monitor out of nowhere and placed it on the table. ‘They are useless against me. I’m everywhere and nowhere.’

‘So, what?’ Crina asked. ‘You’re a walking paradox?’ She inclined her head as he glanced over at Seras. ‘That explains how you popped out of nowhere.’ She then caught Seras’s expression – as well as the expressions of over half the room. She scoffed. ‘Nobody be fooled. He’s nowhere near as young as he looks.’

The cat-boy smirked.

Crina inclined her head. ‘So why don’t you get this message delivered, then?’

‘Of course. My commanding officer, the glorious Major, has a message for all of you. Please attend carefully.’ He pulled out a remote, and then seemed to have trouble turning it on.

‘What are you doing?’ a voice asked from the box. ‘There’s no picture.’

Crina didn’t bother hiding her smirk.

‘What’s going on, Schrödinger?’ the Major’s voice demanded. ‘The screen is not working.’

Schrödinger…Schrödinger’s cat…That was either a really weird coincidence or…

Then it finally started to work and the Major’s face was shown on screen. ‘Wait. Hold on. Right there! That’s good.’ Suddenly they were treated to a visual of ravaged bodies. Crina frowned in distaste. It was clearly the handiwork of sloppy and ravenous vampires. Both Integra and Maxwell narrowed their eyes.

‘Major,’ Schrödinger said. ‘Looks like you’ve really got your hands full.’

‘No, things are going well,’ the Major remarked whimsically. ‘It feels as if a weight has finally been lifted from my shoulders. I’m feeling great!’

‘Huh.’ Crina walked around. ‘So this is what you look like.’

‘Ah, young Crina,’ the Major said. ‘I must admit, I was not aware of your existence prior to your arrival. I do wonder what Alucard would think if he saw you – his dear little niece back from the dead.’

Crina smirked.

Integra cut in. ‘What is it that you want?’ she asked the Major.

The Major chuckled. ‘Oh! Finally, face-to-face with the Fraulein herself. Sir Integra Hellsing.’ He bowed in mock-politeness. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘What’s the purpose of this?’ Integra just rephrased her question. ‘What are you trying to accomplish? Answer me!’

The Major paused. ‘Superfluous! What a silly question, my beautiful Fraulein.’ He muttered to himself and chuckled. ‘To put it in the simplest possible terms, Fraulein, our purpose is a total absence of purpose.’

The camera suddenly focused on a Nazi soldier, clearly human, tied up and gagged with a sign around his neck: HANG THE DEFEATIST. It was in English…for some reason. He whimpered and flinched back. A group of Nazi vampires advanced on him. The Major went on with his monologue.

‘You should be aware, Fraulein, that there are some people in this world, some irredeemable louts, for whom the means does not require end. I speak, of course, of myself.’ He clicked and the vampires converged on the human Nazi. The man screamed through his gag a moment before blood sprayed.

The person holding the camera spoke up then, voice mocking. ‘Be sure to eat every bite. If he turns into a ghoul, I will not be happy.’

Chapter Text

Crina wouldn’t admit it – not to humans anyway – but she was getting hungry watching this.

…Even if it was the equivalent of watching a toddler getting fed. Pip and Seras were openly horrified, as well as the men of the Round Table. Integra and Maxwell stared in rage though. Schrödinger looked around amused, though, ‘Oh, wow! I didn’t think the decision would be that harsh, sir.’

‘You’re insane,’ Maxwell stated. ‘All of you.’

No, they’re animals. Because real vampires didn’t eat the meat. They knew how to leave their dinner a corpse and not raise them as ghouls. They often left their food as no more than a pale body with puncture marks in the neck. Hell, vampires couldn’t stand the taste of anything that wasn’t blood!

The Major immediately seized on the remark. ‘Did I just hear someone from Iscariot question my sanity? Then let me ask you: if your God would allow my madness to flourish across the globe then wouldn’t it seem to you that any God like that would be just as mad as I?’

Maxwell’s eyes widened at the insinuation.

‘We are the finest of the Third Reich,’ the Major said. ‘Do you have any idea how many people we’ve killed?’

Crina zoned out for his bragging.

‘I must say, what foolishness! You didn’t have any objections 50 years ago. But never mind that. Try to stop us then, you self-proclaimed normal people. But, unfortunately, Iscariot is not my true enemy.’

Crina paid attention now.

‘My true enemy is Britain,’ the Major said. ‘The Hellsings. But, really, the vampire rotting in your dungeon, Sir Integra.’

Crina started chuckling. Her chuckles turned into laughter. She began laughing so hard, she was doubled over. After a few minutes, she managed to recover herself. ‘And that’s it, isn’t it? It’s why you sent the Valentine brothers to attack Hellsing Manor – to get the vampire out.’ She shook her head. ‘From what I heard, Abraham Van Hellsing made him the only unkillable vampire you’ve ever met. He’s a former warlord – made an art out of what you seem to consider a game. And he’s naturally psychotic. Believe me, I know. And you want to wage war against him?’

‘Yes,’ the Major drawled like it was a particularly thrilling adventure. ‘No matter what you do, we will never give up. If Alucard is not awakened in time, though, we will simply destroy you. He will look upon his niece’s dead body once more.’

Crina grinned, blood rushing. ‘Oh, please, Major. Try.’

‘We intend to, prinzessin. We will destroy all of you.’

Integra gave the order. ‘Crina, kill him.’

Crina strode over to Schrodinger and punched his skull open. Blood flew as the body dropped. The blood quickly spread across the marble floor. Crina looked down and smiled to herself as the blood touched the bottoms of her boots. All of the blood drew in as she absorbed it. Seras and Pip looked down in surprise, having never seen something like that before.

‘Fine, shoot the messenger if this is what its come to.’ The Major chortled. ‘Auf Weidersehen, mein Fraulein. I look forward to meeting you across the battlefield.’

Crina crushed the monitor under her fist. Then she noticed something.

The Queen spoke up again. ‘Crina, Sir Hellsing.’

Crina focused on the British monarch, rather than the strangeness moving through her head. Integra stood up from her chair and turned around.

‘Destroy them,’ the Queen said. ‘You have your orders.’

The Queen’s aide followed her through the palace. ‘Ma’am, if I may ask a question?’

‘Speak,’ the Queen said.

‘You referred to the vampire as Princess Crina’s father. The Major seemed under the impression that he was her uncle. Which is it?’

The Queen smiled. ‘The vampire they speak of is Count Dracula. There is some debate as to precisely who Count Dracula was. His father was called Dracul, which means “the dragon”. Dracula means “son of the dragon”. Dracul had three sons. When I knew Alucard, as the Count has become known, I asked him which brother he was. He told me that he was Vlad the Impaler.’

‘Yes?’ There had to be more to it than that.

‘Ordinarily a vampire cannot be created unless he is a virgin. Crina was born before her father became a vampire. So he was an exception to the rule. It would be reasonable for most vampire hunters to presume the vampire Count Dracula was Mircea Dracula, the only brother who bore no children. And, presumably, the only brother who died a virgin.’

‘Princess Crina has not corrected this?’

‘It is likely something not given much thought,’ the Queen said. ‘When I asked him, Alucard informed me that I was the first to ask him such a question.’

Walter walked into Sir Integra’s office with the tea.

Sir Integra looked up. ‘Where is Crina? I haven’t seen her in three days. Generally, she sits in the library.’

‘She’s in bed, Sir Integra,’ Walter said. ‘She said she’d explain when she wakes up. Apparently, she ate something that didn’t agree with her.’

Integra frowned. ‘So she went to sleep for three days?’

‘That’s what I understood from Miss Victoria,’ Walter said, pouring out the tea. ‘In the meantime, our enemies appear to have gone silent.’

‘Hm.’ Integra took the tea Walter handed her. ‘Walter, about this vampire in the dungeon…’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘How did this happen?’

‘Well, I don’t know all the details, but I will tell you what I can.’ Walter folded his arms behind his back. ‘When your great-grandfather defeated Count Dracula, he decided to put a seal on him rather than kill him. This seal ensured that the vampire, who was then renamed Alucard, remained entirely subservient to the Hellsing family and Organisation. Your great-grandfather and then your grandfather conducted experiments on him and created the ultimate weapon.’

Integra frowned, but let him continue.

‘When I came to your father and grandfather’s attention, it was Alucard who mentored me. He may have been a subordinate, but he did exactly as he was told.’

‘So why was he locked up?’ Integra asked. ‘Why are we not still using this resource?’

Walter hesitated a moment. If she’d known her father worse, he could have feigned ignorance. If he did so, he’d be caught lying. He had to tell her the truth. ‘We came into contact with a freelance vampire hunter in the 70s. This vampire hunter, at first, wanted to kill Alucard, and then he began to pity him.’

‘Pity?’ She sounded curious.

‘The vampire hunter suggested that Alucard’s protectiveness over his master – your father – was unnatural given how Sir Arthur treated him. He made the rather audacious suggestion that Alucard may have been suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.’

Integra drew back, alarmed. Stockholm Syndrome: Named for the hostage incident in 1973 in the city of Stockholm; the phenomenon wherein a captive develops positive emotions towards their captor as a coping mechanism for their imprisonment. ‘That’s a human condition!’ How could a vampire develop such a thing?

‘Yes, it is,’ Walter said. ‘Usually, when such claims were made, Alucard would laugh and dismiss them. In this case, however, he began to seriously consider the possibility. In the end, I believe he began to believe he had developed Stockholm Syndrome and he grew resentful of it. He became just as likely to strike down an ally as he was an enemy. Your father saw no choice but to lock and contain him within the dungeon.’

Integra’s eyes narrowed. ‘You mean to say he started attacking our men?’

‘Well…’ Walter hesitated. ‘Not actively attacking them. He just adopted a…how shall I say? “Too bad, so sad” attitude if any happened to be caught in the crossfire. Your father was afraid he might start actively killing them. Alucard is a monster, and not one who should be allowed to wander free.’

‘So he took preventive measures.’ Integra’s eyes narrowed. ‘And Millennium expects us to release him from the cell?’

‘It would seem that is what they were hoping for.’

‘Then, if he’s so dangerous, why wasn’t he just destroyed?’ Integra asked.

Walter frowned. ‘You heard what Crina said about him being unkillable?’ He waited for her to nod. ‘Though I’m sure she was merely repeating hearsay, she wasn’t wrong. Your great-grandfather and your grandfather somehow came about the process that all of the souls he has consumed in four-to-five hundred years operate as spare lives. If he is killed, he simply regenerates.’

‘How extensive is it?’ Integra asked, worried.

‘If Anderson took him on, Anderson would run out of nanobots before Alucard ran out of lives.’ Walter sighed. ‘Your father didn’t destroy him because he simply considered it impossible to do so.’

Integra considered the situation for a moment. ‘…Does Crina know her uncle is here?’

‘If she did, do you really think she would have left him there?’

Integra nodded. ‘Certainly not. Ensure that she never finds out.’

‘That may be difficult,’ Walter pointed out. ‘She was there when the Major mentioned him. I think she took it for a manipulative lie due to her reaction, but we can’t be certain. She can walk through walls and I’m fairly certain a vampire barrier will not contain her. If she decides to look, she may recognise him.’

‘Then keep her from looking there,’ Integra barked. ‘She is never to find out that her uncle is in the dungeon!’

All around the world, phone calls were made.

Men and women stowed away on boats, planes, and stole vehicles when they arrived on the island. Some ran, some walked, some took a ride. Everyone moved. Regardless of their method of travel, they all headed for the city of London. The message was clear, and so was their reaction.

The vampire world was going to war.

Crina slept for a full week.

When she woke, she was fully willing to explain what had happened. At the time, Walter had gone to the city to pick up a delivery. ‘It seems Schrödinger was not a meal that agreed with me.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Integra asked.

‘Oh, I saw it,’ Seras said. ‘After Crina killed Schrodinger, she absorbed his blood. That’s why there was none on the floor when they cleaned up his body.’

Crina shrugged. ‘I was hungry and that was the closest food available.’

‘So you do occasionally eat people?’ Integra asked.

‘Very occasionally,’ Crina said, ‘and I assure you it is entirely circumstantial. I had, over my life, eaten enough people for Schrodinger to be something of a problem.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Schrödinger said he was everywhere and nowhere.’ Crina inclined her head. ‘When I absorbed his blood, I found that I was simultaneously all of the people I had eaten in my lifetime and none of them. Fortunately, I could still find focus but it was very difficult. The sensation with both disorienting and overwhelming. This past week, I’ve been killing off all the other souls in my body.’

‘So this will no longer be a problem?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘How did he manage this?’ Integra asked.

‘He was a living paradox.’ Crina shrugged it off. ‘Don’t bother trying to work it out. You’ll just give yourself a headache.’

Chapter Text

‘We lost communication with the Aircraft Carrier Eagle 18 hours ago,’ Sir Penwood said. ‘She’s currently anchored approximately 300kms off the coast of Politian Bay. We’ve confirmed she’s flying their colours.’

Integra was looking at the photographs that had been taken. One of which showed a large Nazi swastika painted on the deck. ‘Millennium.’

‘That’s why we called you,’ Sir Penwood said. ‘The situation on board the Eagle has gone far outside the Royal Navy’s jurisdiction.’

Integra lowered the photos. ‘What’s the status?’

Sir Penwood turned to his aide. ‘Go on.’

‘Sir,’ the man said. ‘As the General said, we’ve lost contact. The Eagle has ignored all emergency hails. However, satellite photos have revealed not only the Nazi emblem but the presence of a lonely agent on deck holding a parasol.’

‘Hm?’

‘Two SAS platoons are approaching the Eagle by helicopter in order to assess the situation and hopefully bring this to a resolution.’

‘General,’ Integra said.

‘Yes, Sir?’

Integra narrowed her eyes. ‘Those men are defenceless against what’s out there. Cancel the operation and order them to return immediately.’

An alarm suddenly went off and the operator spun around. ‘Both helicopters have been shot down!’

‘Did the Eagle open fire on them?’ Penwood’s aide demanded.

The operator looked back at the readings. ‘No, sir. Someone fired at them from the deck.’ He looked back. ‘With a single musket shot!’

‘That’s ridiculous!’ Sir Penwood insisted. He looked back at Integra.

‘I’m getting confirmation,’ the operator said. Integra sighed in exasperation and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer for the men. She then stood up. She headed for the door.

‘What will you do, Sir Integra?’ Sir Penwood asked.

‘We’re under direct orders from Her Royal Highness,’ Integra said. She turned back around. ‘We’ve determined this incident to be the work of vampires and we’ll be assuming jurisdiction.’

The men gawked and muttered, apparently scandalised. Of course, there were some in the room who had no idea vampires existed.

Integra pulled her cigar out of her mouth. ‘There you are, Sir Penwood. Anything to add?’

‘No, ma’am. Good hunting, Sir Integra. I’m handing over control of this operation to the Hellsing Organisation.’

Integra put the cigar back in her mouth. ‘Good.’ She led Walter out of the room.

They began discussing their options as soon as they were clear of the military.

‘They aren’t launching any attacks,’ Walter said, ‘but they do open fire when we approach. It’s textbook, ma’am. They’re trying to lure us in. That ship is literally a floating fortress.’

‘I don’t suppose we can just ignore the damn thing,’ Integra remarked. ‘How do we deal with a ship full of ghouls?’ She paused. ‘Moving vampires across large bodies of water is problematic,’ Integra stated. ‘The situation hinders their movements and ours as well.’ She turned. ‘Can Crina cross running water?’

‘I would imagine so,’ Walter said. ‘The inability to cross water is a vampire weakness, which the dhampir race is not subject to.’

Integra stopped and turned around. ‘So she could swim there?’

‘Theoretically, but it would take far too long and we can’t count on them to stay put. Perhaps a faster method of transportation.’

Integra frowned. ‘Walter, they have high-calibre anti-aircraft Gatling guns. A speedboat would be lost in a hail of bullets. What about dropping them in from above?’

‘No, the Eagle is well-stocked with anti-aircraft armaments. We couldn’t get a plane anywhere near it. Perhaps an aeroplane with a lot of decoy chaff.’

‘No,’ Integra said. ‘They still won’t fool those damn magic bullets.’

Crina suddenly appeared through the wall and leaned against it. ‘So against their stockpiles of missiles and magic bullets, your only hope is to get me onto the flight deck of that ship? Isn’t that right?’

‘It may not be possible,’ Integra said.

‘Wait.’ Suddenly Walter smiled. ‘I know an aircraft that could get you on board. However, I think there may be only one in existence.’

Crina smirked. ‘That’s okay. I’m the only one going.’

Rip Van Winkle danced around the deck, singing, as she watched her magic bullets destroy the missiles that’d been fired at the ship. She had her orders: destroy everything that came for the ship and wait for the dhampir to arrive. But there was no reason she shouldn’t pass the time enjoyably.

Suddenly, a new type of plane entered her perception. This one was not merely a human. It was the Untouchable – the dhampir! But how was she…? Rip Van Winkle dropped to her knees. ‘What is happening? It’s her! Oh, no…Oh, God!’

The men started muttering on the bridge.

‘It’s her!’ Rip Van Winkle screamed.

She heard the call from her radio. ‘Report. First Lieutenant, what do you see out there?’

Rip Van Winkle began preparing her musket, desperation taking over. ‘It’s her. It’s the Untouchable! I hear her! She has come for me!’ She began to mutter. ‘She charges this way upon a steed of black iron…the stench of death is turning this way…’

The aircraft nosedived for the ship.

‘Sir!’ A subordinate yelled on the bridge. ‘She’s diving!’

‘Mein Gott! She’s going to ram us!’ The commander began barking out orders. ‘Engines to full – evasive manoeuvres! Get up out of the way! Fire the guns!’

The guns were lifted to the air and the rounds were released. It was no good. Ordinary bullets bounded right off the hull of the aircraft The Untouchable was driving. Rip Van Winkle laid back on the swastika. She propped her musket up and took aim herself. There was only one way to stop The Untouchable. She grinned wide and fired her magic bullet.

The bullet shot through the air in intricate patterns, leaving a streaking trail behind, before it hit the craft. The dhampir’s aircraft exploded just as easily as all the others did. The men on the bridge cheered. Rip Van Winkle grinned and breathed a sigh of relief as the thing plummeted to the deck.

Then, suddenly, something pushed into her consciousness.

‘I…hear…a voice…calling me.’ She began to shake. ‘I hear a voice and she says she’s coming for me!’

A dark mist began swirling around the plummeting aircraft. The dhampir’s voice could be heard as she chuckled darkly. ‘You really thought that would kill me? Pathetic little girl, taking your Halloween dress-up too far! You are not a vampire and your presumption of such has brought you to this!’

Rip Van Winkle stared in horror and quoted the opera she so loved. ‘Mein Gott! How sad the hunter’s spirit? For my heart will not cease to tremble!’

The aircraft hit the deck in a fiery explosion. Rip Van Winkle clung to her musket. She was done for! She gasped and shook in terror as she viewed the flames that burned many of her compatriots to death. The Untouchable One’s silhouette rose up on the flames, unharmed. A terrified whine found its way out of Rip Van Winkle’s mouth. The aircraft behind the dhampir burned in the shape of a crucifix.

The symbolism was not lost on her.

The Major’s words came back to her. ‘First Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle. Do you know how Der Freischütz ends? Kaspar, having trifled with the Black Huntsman Samiel, is whisked away to Hell. His corpse is then thrown into the bottom of a ravine to be eaten by wolves. Prepare yourself, First Lieutenant, for now Samiel comes to collect you.’ The dhampir jumped down from the ledge she’d stood upon, causing Rip Van Winkle to stumble back, away from her. The Untouchable began to advance on her. She remained frozen in fear as the immortal half-breed creature approached her.

The dhampir stopped a mere foot in front of her, and inclined her head in something akin to boredom. She did not view Rip Van Winkle as a threat. She reached out to strike the killing blow. The Untouchable spoke again. ‘Those that dare to impersonate the dead are judged to join their ranks.’

Rip Van Winkle flinched back. Suddenly, the dhampir stopped and looked away. Abruptly, sharp black tendrils abruptly shot out of the ground. The vampires who had rushed down from the bridge, trying to aid her, were suddenly skewered through the heads, shattering their skulls and killing them dead.

Rip Van Winkle rocketed back. She wiped her eyes as the dhampir turned her attention back. The clock alarm suddenly began ringing. It was time. Rip Van Winkle aimed her musket and gathered up what was left of her courage. The dhampir just smirked. Her mind flashed back to the Major’s words.

‘What will you do,’ the dhampir asked, almost as if she could read her mind, ‘Rip Van Winkle?’

‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do, soldier! My bullet punishes all – without distinction!’ She pulled the trigger.

The bullet flew at her…and passed right through the dhampir. Again and again, the bullet passed right through her as if she wasn’t even there. The blonde woman smiled in amusement as she finished her approach. The last thing that Rip Van Winkle would ever see was the pale hand coming at her skull.

Crina watched as Rip Van Winkle’s headless corpse dropped. The bullet, really a musket ball, stopped. She bent down and picked up the musket. I like this; I’m keeping it. As her cell phone rang, Crina pulled it out of her pocket. The caller ID flashed up on the screen. She flicked it open and pressed the phone to her ear.

‘Vasilii?’

‘We can see them. They’re on route. I give it about five minutes. Everyone wants to know if you want us to start the party without you?’

‘Go ahead.’ Crina walked to the edge of the deck. ‘I think I need to get to the Hellsing Manor before I go to London.’

‘The police girl.’ Vasilii clicked his tongue. ‘Any particular reason you’ve shown such interest in her longevity?’

‘There’s potential in her. I’d hate to see it go to waste.’

Crina then hung up and dived off the edge of the deck.

The Major looked around in mild disinterest. ‘Where is Schrödinger?’

‘I haven’t seen him,’ the Doktor said. ‘Not since we sent him to London. The dhampir can’t have possibly killed him permanently?’

‘Of course not.’ The Major waved it off. ‘Oh, well. He’ll turn up.’

Chapter Text

Integra had returned to the Royal Navy Headquarters with Walter.

The alarm on one of the monitors beeped. ‘Sir, our communication feed to Boxhaul Cross has just been cut off! The SIS is offline!’

Sir Penwood turned to the operator. ‘It’s what?’

Another man turned around in his chair. ‘We’ve also lost contact with London, BT, and Control. Civilian communication networks across the city are apparently also offline.’

Yet other man turned. ‘Sir, we’ve lost contact with our Air Force Base!’

‘No response from the Atlantic Fleet,’ yet another said, ‘or from Fleet Command.’

‘We’ve had no word from Defence Intelligence Headquarters.’ This was the only one who did not turn around to address Sir Penwood. ‘All lines are down!’

A junior officer turned in his chair. ‘General, we’ve received civilian reports of a fleet of dirigibles moving north over New Haven. They’re on a direct course for London.’

‘Good Lord,’ Sir Penwood muttered. ‘A fleet of airships?’ The implications were sinking in. ‘Impossible!’ He looked at Integra. ‘They can’t be trying to declare war on us!’

‘We’re past that,’ Integra said.

His head snapped up. ‘Sir Integra?’

‘The enemy is at the gate.’

Bombs rained down upon the city of London.

People ran, screaming. Everyone in the way, though was mowed down – first by artillery and then by Nazi vampires. The remaining humans ran as fast as they could as ghouls staggered after them. Suddenly something shot across one ghoul. Something else shot across another. This went on and, as it occurred, the ghouls changed their course. They began ambling towards the Nazi vampires.

This vicious attack suddenly turned into mass confusion as more and more vampires poured in. The same thing happened all over central London. Humans were killed, turned into ghouls, ambled only a short distance after the still-living humans, and then were hit. They turned on the vampires. The Nazi vampires tried to work out what was going on. They never saw the true vampires standing in the shadows.

Still, thousands of people were killed.

The few survivors rushed out of Central London where they found a barricade being set up. The barricade, which they were pushed past, was manned by a large group of men and women. Some stood inside the barricade with their arms folded and staring into the area that had become Hell on Earth. The older of these people stood outside, ensuring no one entered.

‘I’m sorry, officers,’ Dr. David Alice said when the police arrived on the scene. ‘We have strict orders to let no one pass into the barricade – not even you.’

The door was suddenly kicked open and armed soldiers suddenly rushed in. They circled both the Round Table and the entire room, putting everyone at gun point – well, Integra mused, almost everyone. They clearly hadn’t seen Walter in the corner there.

Sir Penwood half-rose from his seat. ‘What is the meaning of this?’

Integra was only mildly surprised when Sir Reginald walked in with a smirk and a mouthful of previously-concealed fangs. She’d known there was a traitor somewhere. Now, at the eleventh hour, he had revealed himself. He pulled out his own gun and pointed it at her head as if that should intimidate her.

‘Please, no sudden moves,’ he said, ‘Sir Integra.’ He turned his gun around the room. ‘As of now, this facility is under the control of Millennium.’

Sir Penwood, looking horribly out of his depth, looked around the room. Still, he quite admirably swallowed back his fear at the sight of the sneering vampires. ‘Enough! What is going on?’

Sir Reginald flashed his fangs. ‘Shut up! What is going on, Sir Penwood, is a very good day for vampires.’ He began walking around the table.

Sir Penwood went white in the face.

The vampires around them began chuckling.

Sir Reginald went on as Sir Penwood and the other members of the Round Table stared in horror. ‘A very good day indeed, considering I’ve just captured the Great Sir Integra.’

Deluded fool. Integra chuckled.

The smarmy look went off his face and Sir Reginald looked at her in disbelief. He turned the gun back on her. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Why, the whole thing of course,’ Integra said. ‘Really, you’re the vampire equivalent of newborns. We, on the other hand, are the institute of your annihilation. Frogs parading in front of the viper. Of course it’s funny.’

For a moment, Sir Reginald looked startled. Then he tightened his grip on his gun. ‘I’m not scared of you!’

‘I hope you can claim your Iron Cross from your corporal,’ Integra calmly said.

‘Shut up!’ Sir Reginald snapped.

Suddenly, Walter struck. There was a very good reason Walter went everywhere with her. It wasn’t merely because he was her butler. The poor, dumb fool never even knew what hit him. One moment Sir Reginald was pointing his gun at her, the next, his arm was sliced apart and he cried out in pain.

‘Walter,’ Integra said. ‘Clean up.’

‘As you wish, Sir Integra.’ Walter stepped out of the spot where he hadn’t actually been hiding but he had still been missed. ‘Now, then, it’s time to take these children across my knee.’

The vampires fearfully turned their guns on Walter. The butler just smirked. As they opened fire, the blue lines of his signature weapon flicked out in front of him. With a simple movement of his fingers, the vampires on one side of the room were sliced apart. Flicking his wrist, Walter dispatched the vampires on the upper level. The last of the vampires were killed with but a few more sweeps of his arms.
Integra sat patiently as the blood sprayed everywhere.

‘Is that all?’ Walter asked as the soldiers stared around in horrified astonishment. It was hardly a surprise. They, as well as the Round Table, were used to hearing about vampire hunting. But they were also entirely unfamiliar with the actual process. Integra didn’t doubt that most of them had never seen it done before now.

Integra looked down at what was left of Sir Reginald in contempt. ‘Bloody traitors.’ She looked back up at the shaking Sir Penwood. ‘Sorry, Sir Penwood. Are you all right?’

Slowly, Sir Penwood seemed to drift back. He was so stunned by what had just happened.

‘Up until now,’ Integra admitted, ‘I had been convinced that you were the traitor in our midst.’

Sir Penwood smiled, showing impressive recovery time, and wiped the blood from his face. ‘I may be powerless against them, but I’m certainly not a coward.

The suddenly began flashing red with “WARNING” across the top of them.

One of the operators turned. ‘Sir, the city is under siege!’

‘No word from the chief of staff!’

‘We’ve lost contact with over 150 military installations and command centres across the British Empire! It is possible they’re currently engaging the enemy forces.’

Integra looked down at the dead vampires and corrected the assumption. ‘It’ll be the same everywhere.’

Sir Penwood began to shake.

They weren’t answering because they were dead. This particular base had been lucky in that Walter had been present. Vampire hunters were not easy to find. The odds of any of them being in those military bases were practically non-existent. Integra stood up. ‘This facility is sure to be on their list of targets. We should be gone before they arrive. It’s time to leave.’

Another one of the operators turned. ‘There are Nazi soldiers dropping from the airships! It’s the Waffen SS!’

‘It can’t be!’ another operator insisted before turning to check himself.

Frustrated, Integra leaned on the table. ‘Sir Penwood, it’s time! This building is about to be overrun by an army of vampires.’

Sir Penwood fidgeted for a moment before he responded. ‘Sir Integra, you and your man will return to Hellsing Headquarters as quickly as is possible. There are duties you are honour-bound to perform. Go, and see to your sworn obligations. I must stay and perform mine.’

With newfound admiration for the normally meek man, Integra straightened up. ‘This place can no longer function as a command centre. Do you have a death wish?’

‘It’s still possible for us to restore communications,’ Sir Penwood said. ‘And we may be able to issue orders even. We will need to establish a chain of command with whatever bases are still fighting off the invasion.’ His fidgeting hands tightened. He closed his eyes. ‘I am the commanding officer here. This is my facility. I cannot abandon my post.’ He began to fidget again. ‘I know that I’m not a strong man. I’ve always been nervous. Even I’m not entirely sure how a man like me ended up in such a position of authority—No. That’s not true. I was born with a title and money. My authority was expected, and my position handed to me by obligation.’ He looked back at Integra. ‘So, given that, the least I can do is perform the responsibilities I was handed.’ He paused. ‘Now, off with you, Sir Integra. There are evils moving against us that only you, that only Hellsing, can face.’

Integra reached into her coat and set down a gun for him. ‘It’s loaded with blessed atomised silver-tip rounds. You should find them more effective than ordinary iron.’ She pulled the cigar out of her mouth. ‘Sir Penwood, best of luck and good hunting.’

Sir Penwood smiled.

Now it was time for Integra to stop this. Nothing is going to get in my way. As head of the Hellsing family, I swear it.

Walter drove Sir Integra through the by-now deserted streets of London.

The radio suddenly buzzed with Sir Penwood’s voice. ‘Attention all soldiers. Attention all soldiers.’ Walter adjusted the dial until his voice came through loud and clear. ‘Anyone! This is Vice Admiral Penwood speaking from the British Security Special Command Centre. I don’t even know if there’s anyone left to receive this message.’

Outside the barrier, David stood at his post. The message was playing on all radios. People gathered around car radios, hand held radios, and any other receiving device they had to listen to the message. By now, the police had joined David’s people in keeping civilians back from the barrier.

They’d seen enough vampires having to be stopped from getting near the barrier by lethal means to know why it had been set up. They had seen what the vampires did to the people they caught – the ones fleeing from inside the barrier. Police stood around it with them. All the civilians stayed well back. No one dared approach the place where such unspeakable beasts stalked the streets.

‘This facility will soon fall. The monsters are almost upon us, past the last of our defences. I now deliver the final orders from this facility, to whomever is listening to this transmission: keep fighting. Do your duty.’

The commotion in the background was heard by everyone. The terror in the air was palpable. They huddled together, fearful of what was about to happen. There was an explosion through the speakers. A lot of people jumped. Even more looked in the direction of the area barred to them but no one dared move.

A German-accented voice was heard, but not understood. Vice Admiral Penwood chuckled at whatever was said. The voice spoke again. Then the Vice Admiral’s voice came through again, obviously not addressing the audience. ‘Pathetic, am I? This coming from an undead maggot. Course it’s bloody funny.’ There was a pause. ‘Farewell, Integra Hellsing. It was an honour and a privilege.’

The German yelled again and there was a gunshot.

‘Never!’ Another gunshot. ‘I will not take orders from swine like you.’

The radio suddenly emitted white noise.

Walter flicked the radio off.

Sir Penwood was dead with honour.

‘Walter?’

Walter looked in the rear-vision mirror. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Faster!’

Walter put his foot down and sped back to the mansion, mowing down all of the ghouls that got in his way. It wasn’t long however before he saw something disturbing. He slammed his foot on the brakes. The car loudly skidded to a stop. Then he glared down the road at the figure that approached.

‘What is it?’ Sir Integra asked.

It was time. ‘Sir Integra, please take the wheel of the car, and find another way across town.’

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

Walter opened the door and got out. ‘Take the car and go. As fast as you can. Do not try and fight me. And no matter what do not look back.’

‘Walter…’

‘The way I am now, I don’t know how long I’ll be capable of holding out against that man.’

Sir Integra opened the car door and climbed out. She closed it behind her. She paused a moment before getting into the car. ‘Walter, live through this. Consider that an order. Understand?’

Walter smirked. ‘If you insist, ma’am.’ He adjusted his glove on his hands.

Sir Integra got in the car and started it up. She reversed and swung the car around. Then she took off. Walter looked ahead to his fate. It was a shame, Walter mused, as he approached with his wires, about Alucard. If Crina hadn’t been so confounding and stubborn, this could have gone perfectly.

Well…the plan had simply had to be adjusted.

Integra tore through the city, unused to driving at such high speeds – or driving at all. Her mind was only on one thing: get back home. She tensed as her car came to and vaulted over some debris spilled across the road. Something caught her eye and, to her annoyance, Integra saw vampire Nazis running alongside the car.

Annoying bastards.

Integra spun a sharp turn, the brakes squealing as she applied them. But, before she knew what was happening, the sensation of flipping…A feeling over took her whole body and she pressed the brake all the way down. Almost in slow motion, she saw the water of the Thames rushing up to meet her.

The chipped vampires were all skewered through the heads by various pieces of flying debris, flung like spears.

The Iscariot Agent, Alexander Anderson, then jumped down and started looking around. He looked down at the water as the last of the bubbles drifted up. He knew there was a vampire around, and that was the only thing that stopped him from diving into the water to save Sir Integra Fairbrook Windgates Hellsing.

But the vampire he was looking for was a True Vampire.

Only such a monster could have such impeccable aim.

The vampire watched, concealed in the shadows. He smiled. ‘Long live the King.’

Now he had a delivery to make.

Chapter Text

Seras glanced down at the radar next to her. Just another couple of miles and then it would work. She waited patiently. While the kind of gun needed…only Crina would be able to lift the actual gun. But Crina wasn’t here. She was still crossing the distance from the boat in the Atlantic to return.

The radar beeped.

Seras hit the button. She repeated the action for each enemy missile coming at them. The heat-seeking missile zeroed in on the explosives. That done, she jumped up and bolted for the other gun they had waiting. She paid it no mind as the search lights shone on her. They had already gotten their rockets blown out of the air, and now their zeppelin could follow.

‘24 for 24, Mon Cherie,’ Pip said in her earpiece. ‘Your new equipment is nothing to scoff at. We’re pulling out all the stops against these Krauts, aren’t we, Mon Cherie?’

‘Mr. Bernadotte, would you please stop calling me “Mon Cherie”?’ Seras asked, annoyed. ‘I have a name and it’s Seras.’

Pip laughed. ‘Apologies, Mon Cherie.’ He paused so she assumed he was lighting a cigarette. ‘Tell me, can you see London right now?’

Seras looked. All she could see of it was the horizon. ‘Just a red line from where I’m standing,’ she said softly.

Pip audibly blew out a stream of smoke. ‘Piccadilly Circus, Soho, and Covent Garden are nothing but ashes. The London we knew is gone, replaced with this…hell. I can’t stand London – never could. It always seemed like such a stuffy town. We never saw eye to eye, old London and me. But the boys would always drag me out to this one tavern. The beer was cold and tasty, which is good because the only thing dumber than the bartender were those jokes of his. Or we’d go whoring. This house filled with the ugliest girls you’ve ever seen, but you know…they were all nice to us, but they had the saddest eyes. Then there was the lady with the place on Versailles Road. I never ordered fish and chips but it was all she’d serve me. She’d say, “‘ere, luv, have a taste of some right proper British food”, every time. I wanted to tell her it was too greasy, I couldn’t eat it. But I didn’t want to offend her, so I choked it down – bite by bite. I’m not really going to miss this London. But the people who lived here – that bartender and the whores and the fish and chips lady. This pissing match was never theirs to lose. That little Major, and Section XIII, the Last Battalion, even Hellsing itself meant nothing to them. But now, they’re all dead. Corpses feasting on each other.’ His voice hardened. ‘And that is something I just cannot abide. Let us finish them, you and me, Seras. Do it. Blast them clean out of the sky.’

Seras looked up at the zeppelin as she got into position. ‘Yes, sir. For those who’ve died tonight, and for London.’ Pulling the levers, Seras swung the gun into position. It was specifically built for those not strong enough to lift it.

‘Now, Mon Cherie, target the enemy dreadnought! Fire upon my mark!’

Seras aimed.

‘Fire!’

Seras pulled the triggers. The zeppelin was bombarded with fire. Smoke began billowing from the shell.

‘Hit those Nazis!’ Pip called. ‘Send them down into the pits of hell!’

The zeppelin altered its course and headed right for her. Seras narrowed her eyes and reached back. She hit a button. The massive incendiary grenades flicked out of the cannon behind her head. The screen next to her displayed the lock-on target and Pip muttered in astonishment. Pulling the trigger, Seras fired the grenades. The sailed at the zeppelin and impacted, punching two holes in the zeppelin. The aircraft diverted and crashed heavily into the ground. It exploded in a mass of flames.

Knowing the others would be celebrating, Seras moved off again. She had seen enough of vampires to know that this wouldn’t kill them. She ran to arm herself appropriately. If they got to the mansion before Crina returned…well, that would be the end of all of them. Seras thought she’d rather be bitten by a true vampire rather than these cheap imitations.

‘We’re not done, ladies,’ Pip said over the PA system. ‘Don’t call it a night yet. They’re still coming.’ The men must have been shocked to see the vampires still moving. ‘What did you expect, Legarde? Those aren’t people. They’re monsters.’

Seras ran back into the mansion, reloading to stock up again.

‘All right, Wild Geese,’ Pip said over the PA. ‘It’s time for us to take the stage. No more foreplay. These Nazis want it rough and I’m feeling generous. Let’s give them a wild night! Lock and load, men!’

Seras looked out the window as she passed it and stopped. She cocked her gun. The vampires were streaming towards the mansion.

Pip spoke again. ‘These creatures, they are vampires. They are faster and stronger than any man alive, and they’d storm heaven itself for a juicy goose dinner. To them, we are marionettes wobbling on strings. They know the moves we make before we do. They’ll dodge our bullets and take off our heads before we even realise we’ve missed. Mon Cherie, does that about some it up?’

Seras nodded.

She was suddenly startled though when explosions started dotting the front lawn. What the….? She turned more fully to the window and watched and the explosions ripped up the lawn. The second line of vampires managed to stop and draw back as they realised what was happening.

‘They got wise,’ Pip said. ‘Hit it!’

Next, it was bombs going off, throwing the vampires sky-high and scattering them over the yards of area that made up the front of Hellsing Manor. ‘Your men booby trapped the yard?’

‘Booby trapped?’ Pip asked. ‘You make it sound so tawdry. Serves them right for charging in. If our foes are going to play dirty by going vampire, the least we can do is try to even the odds. 60 claymores packed with blessed ball bearings all detonated at once. Let’s see them try to dodge that.’

Good point.

‘We are not the greatest fighting force,’ Pip pointed out. ‘Engaging the enemy in the open is such a messy affair. This is more our speed.’ He barked out an order. ‘Third floor grenadiers, fire! Constant bombardment, men!’

Seras holstered her guns and ran up to a defensive position. If they got past them then, she had to be ready.

‘That’s it! Tear that perimeter to shreds! Rifle squads! Concentrate all of your fire into one spot at a time! Anything twitches, you shoot!’

Seras ran up the stairs and down the hallways. She ran as fast as she could. She wasn’t even close to the position she had in mind when it happened. Something odd began happening outside. She stopped and looked as a massive being took shape. The artillery and gunfire stopped as the men saw what she did.

Suddenly, they were faced with a massive female vampire, easily a hundred feet tall. She had a contorted and twisted face and held an equally as massive scythe. Seras’s gut twisted in terror. How were they supposed to fight that? There was just no way! Where’s Crina? She’d know what to do! She felt herself backing up. She wasn’t the only one either. Every man in the corridor was backing up.

‘Holy shit!’ someone yelled. ‘What the hell is that thing?!’

Pip yelled something at them. Obviously he couldn’t see.

One of the men turned. ‘Hey, you guys. Have you lost your fucking minds too?’

‘Talk to me!’ barked Pip. ‘Someone tell me what the hell is going on! Goddamnit!’ Pretty soon, Pip came into the corridor. ‘What the hell? Resume fire no—’ He cut himself off as he saw what was out there. ‘Mon dieu…nobody said they could do…this!’

The giant vampiress suddenly lifted her scythe and brought it down on the building. Seras ricocheted back as the blade sliced through the building. For a moment she hit the wall. She struck again, ripping the building up, everyone diving for cover. She heard men scream in pain.

‘This can’t be!’ Pip insisted. ‘We’re getting torn to pieces by a giant!’

The vampiress looked in one of the holes she’d made and then she straightened up again. She swung her scythe down again and Seras found herself rolling out of the wall again, her heart pounding against her chest. She clutched her guns as dust flew all around and it became impossible to see.

As the dust settled and all she heard was the men yelling and cursing, Seras opened her eyes. The giant vampiress was straightening up again and preparing to attack once more.

Fearfully, she looked around at the panicking men. Overwhelmed, Seras dropped to her knees. Please…no…this isn’t happening…

‘Oh, you have got to be kidding me!’

Seras twisted around. She was surprised and startled to see Crina Tepes take solid form from mist. She leaned down and scooped up a gun. Despite the men with their severed limbs and all the damage to the hallway, she walked like nothing was amiss. Was it because she was a dhampir and her brain was geared to find this sort of thing appealing?

‘You guys didn’t mention that vampires could turn into giants like this!’ Seras pointed out, in something of a panic as Crina aimed.

‘They can’t.’ Crina pulled the trigger. The missile left the gun and shot into the line of trees surrounding the Hellsing property. In the next instant a cut appeared on the giant’s cheek, spurting blood, and she flinched back with a scream. Her entire form disintegrated. Seras watched as the damage to the building and to the men all vanished as if they’d never been there in the first place.

An illusion! It hadn’t been real.

The men slowly pushed themselves up and looked around as they too were freed from the illusion.

‘Wow…my arm…it’s fine!’

‘What the hell was that?!’

‘I don’t know.’

‘That was fucked up!’

Crina waited until they recovered themselves before she spoke again. ‘Vampires can, however, create illusions.’

Pip nodded, somewhat annoyed. ‘Such as being a 100-foot tall giant.’

‘Exactly.’

They all spun around as vampires suddenly crashed in front all around. The first man unfortunate enough to be closest was just about decapitated. His blood sprayed and the body dropped. As it fell, though, something curious happened. The blood of the slaughtered man drew away, as if it had a mind of its own. It slid through the carpet, not leaving so much as a stain. It slithered out in a way that Seras had only seen once before.

‘Oh, it’s a vampire thing,’ Crina had explained on the way back after the meeting before the Queen. ‘If blood is spilled on the ground, a vampire can draw it in and absorb it without suffering the indignity of dropping to his hands and knees and lapping it up like a goddamn dog.’

In the next instant, Crina leapt, cracking the punching vampire’s skull open. His blood sprayed and his body dropped. Like the fallen human, his blood was drawn away too. Seras knew exactly where the blood was going. She didn’t know how or why, but she knew what was happening. And she wasn’t the only one who knew what that meant.

Crina slid into a crouch, Mephistophelian smile upon her face. When she spoke, she spoke in Romanian. ‘Împăratul va sărbători!’

Since she’d been here, Seras had been taking lessons in Romanian from both Walter and Crina. Because Crina had a tendency to throw out words and phrases from her native tongue, Seras had thought knowing the language would help her keep up with the conversations. Crina’s words now, if Seras was translating correctly with her meagre skills, confirmed what she’d thought.

The king will feast.

The blood travelled down from the third floor. It slipped into the dungeon and down the stone steps of the cell block. It then travelled in networking lines to the cell at the end of the block – the one with a fractured vampire seal painted in blood, a seal that had now lost its power. The blood slipped under the doors and down the last steps.

It made its way to the figure sitting against the wall, his arms strapped tight against his body. The blood slipped up through both his nose and his mouth. The being suddenly moved. His skin smoothed out, his body filled out and returned to the form it once had and the figure tore through the binds on his body.

Crimson eyes snapped open and a Mephistophelian grin crossed his face.

‘The seal,’ he said, ‘is broken.’

Chapter Text

Pip watched as Crina finished off the rest of the vampires around them.

Before he could ask anything, she flicked out her cell phone. She spoke in low tones to whomever she was calling. Seras stumbled over to her, still clutching her guns. She looked around with a quick gaze and then waited. Crina talked for a further minute and then she hung up the phone.

‘What happened?’ Seras asked.

‘Sir Integra is dead.’ Crina’s face remained completely impassive. ‘Apparently, some vampires – and I use the word loosely – were chasing her as she was driving back and, whilst trying to throw them off she ended up rolling her car right into the Thames.’

Seras seemed strangely unaffected by this. ‘And Walter?’

‘He’d already gotten out of the car to face off against a werewolf.’

‘A werewolf?’ Pip demanded.

‘A werewolf.’ Crina sighed and tossed aside her gun. ‘Now, the building is full of vampires. This place is just a few of them. Any others in the building would surely have been eaten by now. My father’s on his way, but he might be a little while.’

That really surprised Pip. ‘Your vampire father?’

‘Yeah,’ Crina said. ‘Contrary to what every vampire hunter outside of the Clan think, vampires are not inherently evil. It just so happens that they develop violent and often sadistic tendencies due to the fact that to get to their main source of sustenance they have to tear peoples’ throats open. Do you really think someone with a strong moral compass could do that nightly?’

The guys all looked around at each other. She had a point, and they all knew it.

‘Exactly,’ Crina said. ‘Old tată is the most powerful vampire alive – er, undead – at this point for reasons that would take far too long to explain. The point is that the vast majority of true vampires only kill when they need to feed, or to defend themselves from those who come at them with intent to kill. These are not true vampires. Their sadism has been ram…oh, crap. What’s that expression?’

‘Ramped up to 11?’ Seras guessed.

‘Yes, thank you, Seras. It’s been ramped up to 11.’

‘So, in other words,’ Pip said, ‘protect ourselves and shoot to kill.’

‘Yeah.’ Crina’s eyes narrowed. ‘As I said, they’re not true vampires. They can’t phase through solid objects like I can. Your best bet would be to barricade yourselves inside of a room. I’m gonna go kill me some fake vampires.’ She shot right through the wall and vanished.

Pip grinned. ‘Her father’s Vlad the Impaler?’

‘Yup,’ Seras said.

‘So we’re getting help from Count Dracula?’

‘Yup.’

‘So…how accurate was Bram Stoker then?’

‘Really not.’ Seras grinned. ‘Remember that book she was reading in Brazil? That was Jonathan Harker’s diary. Crina borrowed it because she thought Stoker’s version was too sloppy for the real Dracula.’

The Geese started laughing and they all moved out of the hallway.

For a moment, Alucard could not make sense of what he was sensing. Then a slow smile came to his face. He lifted his head. ‘Copilul meu dulce…’

Even now, he watched through his third eye. Crina slaughtered the Nazi vampires around her with the ease of a natural instinct. She spilled all the blood she possibly could, intentionally supplying him with the much-needed liquid. He absorbed all of it. How long had she been doing this? It brought a smile to his face. A little girl, ill-prepared for the world, had grown up and become a true force of nature.

The question was: how did she live again?

Alucard had the feeling that all he had to do was to wait. What she’d said to that pack of humans, about these false vampires, was not for their benefit. She was telling him what was going on. To their minds, she’d been reinforcing what they already knew. The only reason for her to say it, then, was in order to explain the situation to Alucard himself.

She knew he could hear her.

Alucard delved into Crina’s mind, upon finding a link and wondering at it. She must have been around and in this state for quite a while, because she directed his attention to a particular pocket of memories involving the human police girl upstairs – Seras Victoria. Even as he looked over the memories, he knew what she was asking.

She was a human girl who had been orphaned in a home invasion, watched her mother’s corpse be raped, and then, years later, be confronted with a vampire who was quite vocal in his intent to violate her. Yet this girl had not cowered as many humans would. Her colleagues had been turned into ghouls, she was faced with one pathetic excuse for a vampire threatening to rape and murder her. It was as close to hell as any human could imagine. Yet she had still fought to escape. She had not given up.

Yes, it was clear to see why Crina liked her; why she considered Seras Victoria the very essence of everything worth saving in humanity.

Yet Crina knew what would happen to every human here tonight. These chipped FREAKS who had the nerve to call themselves vampires were plenty in number, cocky, and had every last vestige of humanity erased from them. They would kill all and they would relish in doing so. The only one Crina really considered worth saving was the police girl.

But a dhampir – that is what she was now – could not create an immortal.

No, she wanted Alucard to do it. Crina was very deliberately manipulating the police girl into a position wherein she could prove her worth. She remembered her father well. Well enough to remember that he would not take just anyone. If he was going to transform Seras Victoria, she had to prove that she was worth transforming.

Crina was presenting her with the opportunity to do so.

Seras helped push the last piece of furniture in front of the doors.

That, she knew, would keep them out only for a period of time. It was the one good thing about dealing with chipped vampires – they didn’t have the ability of true vampires, to walk through solid walls. As Pip moved around, initiating contact with any man he could find still alive outside the room, others moved to tend to the wounded. Seras began preparing a defence for when they did finally break open that barricade. She was under no illusions. They weren’t likely to survive this.

Even when Vlad Dracula did come up here, he’d only be interested in one thing – his daughter. It was unlikely he’d care if they lived or died. From Crina’s attitude alone, Seras knew that human casualty was something the Tepes family accepted and expected in war. They didn’t shed tears over them, and especially not a man who had been treated so cruelly by humans.

He wouldn’t save them, and Seras didn’t blame him one little bit.

But she’d be damned if she didn’t take as many with her as she could.

Crina moved through the room. Moving quickly, she took out two vampires who were munching on the human remains and guessing their blood types. That was funny. Guessing – ha! Honestly, once you started drinking it took a couple of weeks to work out the differences in flavour between blood types.

Crina herself was partial to B+.

Crina paused to stretch her vertebrae. There was a nice little trail of blood and guts behind her, and the mercenaries were splattered all over the place too. She hadn’t stopped out of necessity, though. She could’ve kept going all night. But she had company. She rolled her neck and looked at a wall to her left.

‘Hello, Ruthven.’

A swarthy vampire stepped out of a passageway, carrying a case of some sort. ‘Crina. Where’s your father?’

‘Still in the dungeon. As you know, he hasn’t eaten in 30 years.’ She pointed to a trail of blood drawing away. ‘I suppose he’s still hungry.’ She looked down at the case he was carrying and raised an eyebrow. ‘What have you got?’

‘I figured your father might want a more...contemporary set of firearms.’ Ruthven set down the firearms and opened the case.

‘Oh!’ Crina’s face lit up. ‘Yes!’ She leaned down and picked up one of the firearms. ‘Yes, I do believe he will appreciate these.’ She looked up at him as she returned the pistol and closed the case. ‘Well, off you go then. With the last of the Hellsings dead, their magic has lost its power.’

Ruthven nodded, collected his case, and turned.

Crina returned to work.

Ruthven followed his nose down into the basement of the Hellsing Manorhouse.

This had all gone frighteningly well. Ruthven had served under the authority of Dracula many times before he was captured. So, when Crina appeared, it hadn’t taken her much to prove she was who she said she was. She looked very much like the No Life King in the face – from her features right down to her jawline. Her blood also carried a trace of their imprisoned ruler’s essence, and she was half-vampire herself.

And, by God, did she inherit his brain for battle tactics.

Or…maybe he’d taught it to her before her mortal death. She had gotten all the information she needed and then she put everything together. She had anticipated most of what had happened. She only worked out the full extent of that insane little Major’s plan, though, when she got into this enemy base.

Ruthven stopped as he felt the presence. He dropped to his knees and bowed.

‘Edmund Ruthven,’ the calm voice of his King came from the shadows and the man in question melted out of the shadows of the long corridor. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know how my daughter is here, would you?’

‘I can explain it, to some degree.’ Ruthven lifted his head. ‘Vampire King, Vlad the Impaler…Dracula.’

The Vampire Lord before him smirked.