An Angel Falls From Grace

“An Angel Falls From Grace” by MsKittenKaiba



Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or any of its characters, so don’t sue me.



Author’s Note: I’ve determined this story is currently my vent for escaping into my darker, crazier thoughts brought on by the cult of Mary Sunshines I’ve been submerged into for the sake of having ‘the college experience.’





I rose as soon as the sun set, the coming of nightfall having caused a stir within me. As I flicked the switch that raised the top of the coffin bed, I lay quietly as my mind wandered to last night. Master stopped me and Master healed me. I looked at my arms and the pale, scar-free flesh stared back at me.



I sat up slowly, realizing that I had fallen asleep in my work clothes. I glanced over at the empty chair, my only source of company, to find a clean fresh pressed uniform courtesy.



‘Thank you, Walter,’ I thought quietly as I rose. I raised my arms above my head and stretched as every bone in my body popped awkwardly. I stood up and walked over to the chair as my gloved hands undid the buttons of my current Hellsing top. I let it slip to the floor followed by my wrinkled skirt, which left me standing in my white bra, white panties and black mid-thigh stockings.



‘At least my boots were off,’ I thought as I sighed and bent forward to pick up the dirty, blood stained clothes and fold them. As I stood up, a slight chill ran down my spine as the hairs on the back of my neck began to rise. I slowly turned my head to find Master leaning casually against the wall, again in his one piece black suit without his red hat or red coat. His arms were crossed on his chest as he stared at me over the rim of his shades, his eyes a slightly darker shade of crimson than usual.



“My Master,” I said as I came down on one knee and bowed my head. I did not care that I was half naked given how the Hellsing uniform for the only female (other than Sir Hellsing, of course) hardly left anything to the imagination. He stepped forward and bent down, lifting my chin with his gloved hand for me to face him.



“You do not have a mission tonight, Police Girl,” he said quietly. I stared at him blankly and remained quiet despite the fact that my mind was buzzing with questions. “You will not be having missions for a while.”



“Master?” I asked as he came down on his knees. His shades disappeared as his gloved hand slipped along my jaw line to the back of my neck, from which he pulled me towards him violently, causing me to fall forward and hit his chest.. again. “Master?”



His fingers slipped into my hair as he held my head to his chest with so much strength that I felt as if the pressure would make my head burst and cover him in blood and brains. While I welcomed the thought and almost laughed at it, I remained calm despite the awkward position for he was my Master.



“Do you regret me turning you, Seras Victoria?” he asked. He had not referred to me by my real name since he had offered me his blood so long ago.



“No, my Master,” was my automatic response. Despite the lack of immediate thought that went into my answer, I realized that I was being completely honest about it. No sooner had my answer escaped my lips that flashes of bloodshed went through my mind, enough blood to soak the world in its entirety two times over, followed by images of children at play at a local park. My Master turning me allowed me to fight for these children to play freely and remain living in their world of sunshine and butterflies while I shed blood and reveled in the violence underneath the moonlight. For this, I did not regret being turned; my vampirism allowed me to protect the innocent in a way I would never have been able to had I remained human.



My Master loosened his hold on my head and chuckled slightly.



“You fight for the children, Police Girl?” he asked. I began withdrawing from him but his hold tightened again, keeping my head to his chest. While I knew my only purpose was to be a tool, the imagery in my mind was what I’d planted there after I had begun drinking blood. The children were my reason; the maintenance of a safe world for the children I would never bear, the children who would never call me mother and the father who would never come home to me.



For a moment an image from long ago came up. My mother lying dead on the ground as a man had his way with her body while it was still warm. My father lay dead not too far from her. I was a child who had witnessed what a child should never witness. I suppose I could now find comfort in the thought that I’d never bring anything into the world that would witness such violence. I blinked as the smell of blood assaulted my senses. I found my head being pulled away from my Master’s chest only to find him staring into my eyes, tilting his head forward. I felt something warm roll down my cheek from one of my eyes and realized I was crying and, of course, the tear was made of blood. The image of my parents’ violent death did not fade and it struck me that my Master was sorting through the memory.



“Master..” I started as he leaned in and slowly licked the tear away. His eyes bore into mine the whole time as the scene replayed itself in my head; I ran to the man and grabbed the thing that was closest to my hand and thus a fork ended up in the man’s eye.



I find comfort in the violence that I face on my missions and it is outside of the violence that the dejection sets in. It is outside of this violence that last night happens.



“Master, I need the missions,” I said quietly. Master had finished licking the blood tear and pushed his forehead against mine, the crimson of his eyes swirling slightly with shadows of that eternal darkness I longed for, regardless of the madness that came with it. It is this eternal darkness brought by a planet’s worth of bloodshed by raw, natural violence that I hoped to slip into when I crawled into my coffin for bed every night and never wake from. It is this eternal darkness that I witnessed in his eyes that I lusted for whenever he was near and allowed me to look in his eyes and see the madness that resided there.



“You want the violence,” my Master responded calmly as he leaned in next to my ear, speaking quietly as his breath tickled my skin, “and the darkness,” he said as he brought his lips to the sensitive spot between my earlobe and neck, “and the madness,” he said. His hand held my head in place as he slowly brushed his lips down my neck, not kissing, simply brushing. I took in a slow breath as I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand again. My eyes widened and a chill went down my spine yet again.



“My Master,” I managed to say before I felt his mouth open against my neck.



/ You want the violence,/ he said into my mind.



I closed my eyes as he began sucking gently upon my neck. Somehow I managed to speak.



“Violence is what I know.”



With that, I let out a mixture of a gasp and a moan as I felt his fangs sink into me. My arms immediately went around his neck as I tilted my head back and my back arched slightly. Memories flashed through my mind too quickly for me to set them apart as my blood flowed. Somewhere deep inside me I hoped he’d drain me dry.



/They have broken you, Police Girl. It is violence that you want, but it is not violence that you need./



“My Master..” I said as I stared into his distorted face. His usually handsome features were distorted and animal like, his fangs dripping as my blood hit his chin as he growled unnaturally. This was part of what he was really like; a monster who could not go to hell and knew the darkness I so very much longed for. His nature was violent and unrestrained and it was on the receiving end of this violence that I wanted to be on. I suppose that to some extent I wished for this violence to be the end of me someday. As crazy as it may sound, I found comfort in being his and his alone. I was to follow his orders and be alive as long as he wished to keep me.



My Master was the most beautiful in this violent, blood lust form. I leaned in and tentatively licked at the blood that ran down his chin. He remained perfectly still as I traced the blood to his series of fangs before I pressed my cheek against his and rubbed gently.



My Master, my beautifully violent and insane Master, my wonderfully bloody Master, my monster of a Master, my Master, my Master that I so dutifully loved and served for he is my Master, my wonderful Master with a thirst for blood and a knack for violence and bloodshed and torture and such beautiful pain..



He transformed back to his handsome self again and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up and carrying me effortlessly to my coffin bed. He took a seat and sat me in his lap, pulling me against his chest. I tilted my head down and saw the blood staining my white bra. I was still bleeding, I realized, and I did not really mind. His hand snaked around my waist as his other traced the blood from my chest to where he had punctured me. He brought his bloody fingers to my lips and I looked up at him.



His face was emotionless and his eyes were blank. I parted my lips as he slipped his gloved bloody fingers in and I sucked on them gently. He pulled his fingers out and stared at me, his face and eyes still blank as to not allow me any idea regarding how he felt or what he planned to do. He could rip my head off and paint Hellsing in my blood and I would be happy if it meant I was serving him. He tilted his head slightly to the side, which led me to believe he may have heard that thought. Slowly his empty face broke into a grin as he shook his head.



“They’ve broken you, Kitten,” he said, calling me by the pet name the officers called me back when I was still human. Part of me wondered how he’d know that, but that part then mentally slapped itself; he had access to all my memories.



“I’m still fully functional, Master,” I replied. I rested my head against his chest as I started feeling drowsy. I had not fed tonight and Master had fed off me, so I figured my body was aching for the blood lost.



My Master picked me up again but this time he gently lay me down on the coffin bed. He bit his tongue and licked at my neck with his saliva and blood, making the wound close immediately. He slowly licked all the way down to my breast, clearing it of any blood, although the blood that stained my white bra remained. My Master pulled the blankets over me and tucked me in before leaning down and placing a bloody kiss on my forehead.



/Sleep well, my Kitten, as I figure out what to do with you/ I heard in my head. I smiled at him, whether from the blood loss or loss of my mind I do not know. The coffin top started coming down slowly and he never left the side of my bed. His crimson eyes were the last thing I saw before the coffin closed completely and engulfed me in my quiet darkness.