Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Caeli et Inferno	By : Jubalii Category: Hellsing > General Views: 1929 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The anime: Hellsing \| The OP: not me \| Do I own it, or make money from it?: No \| Will I own it?: In my (Taylor Swift voice) Wildest Dreams oh oh oh

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
            Fulton awoke to a soft crooning in his ear, the voice too low to tell who it belonged to. There was a coolness below his cheek not unlike that of a pillow, and a hand stroking his hair. For a moment, he was with his mother again, and the voice was hers as she sang him a lullaby.
            The voice hit a high note in an off-key tone and he cringed, coming back to himself and waking up fully. He cracked one eye, peering through his lashes at the crimson floorboards. He wondered at the color, and at the rancid odor permeating the air, before his mind whirled the memory of what had transpired. His leg muscles ached with the fatigue of running, his nose protesting at the thick stench in the room. And beneath his cheek was the leg of the woman—the creature—that had killed him and inadvertently saved his life.
            He pushed himself up, away from the creature, and fell back into an orderly mess of innards and leftover skin. Horrified beyond belief, he pulled his hand back, staring at the sticky mess marring the white skin of his palm. Looking around, he noted that blood covered the floors and walls; in places it looked as though that thing had actually licked the blood off the paneling. He felt his mind protest with shock and terror, overwhelmed with what he saw. He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths, using a method his father taught him to keep calm in times of stress.
            He opened his eyes, looking up at the wall again with a calmer air. A shadow formed there; something impossible to do, since the only window was on the same wall as the shadow. The shadow swirled, became corporeal, and took the form of the creature that had come from the coffin. It grinned in its 2D form, the space where its teeth would be opening up to show the bloodstained wall behind. He stared at it a moment, mouth agape, and then did the only thing he could do: he ran.
            He didn’t stop to think about why he was running; it was easy enough, wasn’t it? He wasn’t going to let this second chance at life go to waste because he hesitated. And that thing would eat him just as easily as it ate his turncoat of a cousin, so he had no time to spare. He didn’t stop to consider how fast the creature-woman had moved when she’d grabbed Melville’s wrist, or how the knife did nothing to stop her. If he dwelled on those dark thoughts, he’d end up hopeless, and he couldn’t have that when he was trying to escape.
            He burst through the attic door, leaping across the pile of books in one go and pausing at the splintered door just long enough to gather himself before scrambling through the Melville sized hole, taking care to keep his hands away from the sharp wood. His hand was still clutching the scrap of paper somehow, though now it was bloody and less legible than before. Salvation? Hah! He thought bitterly as he ran down the third floor stairs. Fat lot of good your salvation did me, he complained to the writer of the words, though he didn’t know who could have wrote them in the first place. My salvation is after me, trying to kill me! He let the torn fragment flutter from his grasp, cursing its existence. Maybe he should have just let his cousin kill him after all… at least in his hurry to be rid of him Melville would have made it quick, if not painless. An eight year old like me shouldn’t have to even think such things, he lamented as he ran all the way to the first floor without stopping.
            He made his way through the foyer, sticking to the walls out of view of the staircase until he arrived at his father’s office. He opened the heavy oaken door with some difficulty, closing it again more quietly in an effort to keep this new threat from finding him. He hid beneath the enormous desk, pushing the chair back into place and cowering in a twisted position as he listened for the telltale sound of boots. He tried to calm his breathing, licking his lips as he rested his head against the backboard of the desk.
            He didn’t understand why the creature hadn’t just eaten him while he was unconscious. Instead it had been petting him like a stray kitten, letting him rest and singing soothingly. Why? He couldn’t understand it. It had been acting comforting and motherly. Maybe… maybe it wanted to save me for later? Maybe I’m the midnight snack? Or maybe—
            “Maybe blood is far more delicious when it’s full of adrenaline?” A voice chuckled from above, tone both amused and sarcastic. He froze, eyes widening. How—!? He hadn’t heard the door open, or even footsteps! How did she get down here so fast? If she had run, he would have heard her. “Will you come out on your own, or shall I drag you out?” the voice continued lightly.
            “I—I’ll come out on my own,” he volunteered when he finally found his voice, that same determination as before filling him again with the will to be brave in the face of death. He pushed the chair back and crawled out from beneath the desk, climbing up into his father’s leather seat and turning so that he could face the right way. He was dwarfed by the chair’s size, his legs dangling awkwardly off the edge from mid-calf down and his head barely clearing the midsection of the puffed, stuffed leather back. He gulped, placing his hands demurely in his lap and adopting what he hoped was a resigned, undaunted expression.
            He shifted beneath the creature’s scrutiny. Strangely enough, while she stared at him from her vantage point across the desk, it also felt as though she looked down at him from the ceiling, and up at him from the floor. Eyes bored into him from all sides, taking in his disheveled appearance. He licked his lips and blinked solemnly at her, wondering when she’d take it upon herself to strike a finishing blow. It looked so innocent despite the bloody clothes, standing there in the form of a lady young enough to be an older sister, if his parents had ever had one….
            “Of course I take the form of a lady, Sir.” The creature arched a brow imperiously. “I am one.” Fulton jumped slightly in the chair, wondering if he might have said that aloud. She grinned. “No, you didn’t. I’m just reading your mind.”
            “Y-you can do that?” Fulton asked timidly, though a small part of him was beyond curious at this new information. “You can see anything in my mind?”
            “Right now, yes. But only because you have no mental shields up. You’ll have to learn how to enable them if you want to keep me out,” the creature replied evenly, crossing her arms. “Now, as my new commander, what will you do?” He didn’t quite know how to respond, so he removed his glasses and took a moment to remove specks of dust and gore from the lenses with his shirt. He pulled his sweater vest back down over the cotton cloth, replaced his glasses on his nose, and looked back at her.
            “You are real, aren’t you?” he asked. “I’m not just imagining things because I killed my cousin. I’m not mental, am I?” The creature tilted her head, regarding him silently.
            “No, you’re not,” she finally answered. “And I am real.” She grinned savagely. “And you didn’t kill that boy. I did. One drop of your blood was more than enough to wake me up. I’ve been sleeping for such a long time; I was rather peckish, you might say.” Her eyes glinted a darker shade of red as she spoke.
            “Who are you?” Fulton couldn’t wrap his head around everything that he was hearing, but at the same time, he’d gone through enough today that it almost made sense. At the moment, he chalked it up to fatigue and a complete desensitization to his surroundings thanks to trauma. Maybe tomorrow he’d find it all absurd, but right now he was willing to take whatever answer this woman could give.
            “My name is Seras Victoria.” What a pretty name, Fulton thought absently. “Thank you.” He started again and she snorted derisively.
            “What are you?” he now asked.
            “I am a Draculina,” she said proudly, practically boasting in her assertion. He narrowed his eyes, not sure what the term even meant.
            “And what is a Draculina, exactly?” She rolled her shoulders in an easy shrug.
            “You know what a Draculina is, my master. You only don’t want to admit it.” He frowned, thinking hard.
            “You don’t mean—like Dracula, do you? You’re a vampire; that’s what you’re trying to say?” She nodded once. “I guess that means you can’t eat steak then, right?” he offered, cracking a smile. “Get it? Stake?”
She didn’t return the grin and it slipped from his face. He felt something twitch behind his eye and then stiffened as a pain racked his head from the inside out. He gasped and then groaned, holding his temples with both hands as he rocked side to side, unable to even scream from the immense pressure pushing down on his mind. Her voice echoed loudly in his head. This is no laughing matter, little boy. It grew higher pitched and more like his cousin’s voice had been. Besides, are you not an English gentleman? Is that any way to behave? Hmm? Hmm?!
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” he managed to gasp, and immediately the pain lessened, though his eyes still throbbed with the effort of staying in their sockets. He looked up at her, blinking back tears as he marveled with fear and awe. She had caused him torrential agony without even touching him! What sort of creature was this? Was this really a vampire?
“Remember that, Sir.” He swallowed hard and a tremble worked its way through his body. “My punishments are quick and merciless, but hopefully you aren’t a complete nitwit. I have no doubt you’ll learn quickly what it means to have a vampire as your servant.” She smiled now, her fangs glinting wetly. “Now, I’ve been stuck in that coffin nigh on a century; I think I deserve a hot bath, and you deserve a long nap. I trust you can find your own bed?” He nodded silently. “Good. Sleep well then.” With that, she turned and actually sank through the tiled floor.
Well, that’s how she gets around, I suppose. He sat at the desk another moment or two, looking around at nothing in particular before getting up and obeying. He didn’t want her to punish him for not being quick on the mark, and from the state of things she’d be the person to do something so outlandish.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Caeli et Inferno