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Hunting the Hunter	By : DreadfulPenny Category: Hellsing > General Views: 6416 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Walter searched the silver-lit landscape for the source of the howls. Arthur had said he heard howls at the start of the attack at Hellsing; it could hardly be a coincidence that Walter was confronted with howls as he tried to leave to get back to London. He tucked the keys in his pocket and shook out a handful of wire to try to catch that first shadow when Doru jerked him by the back of his waistcoat, pulling him out of the doorway in time to slam the door closed.

A bullet punched through the thick wood where Walter’s head would have been.

“Sniper.” Doru’s eyes were shading to an angry red.

There were crashes from around the house, the sounds of breaking glass. A dark form landed on the rug in the front room and immediately launched itself at Walter and Doru.

Walter hesitated, not wanting to cut into Doru, and it was Doru who batted the thing aside with a powerful blow that tossed it into a wall with a hard thud that left it dazed for the space of an indrawn breath.

Walter had time to register what he was seeing, although it was unlike anything he had seen before - humanlike, but hunched as though not really designed to walk upright on two legs, its stubby fingers ended in claws better suited for gouging than cutting or tearing. Its unclothed body was covered in patchy, coarse, black hair. Where skin showed through the patches of hair, it wept clear fluid as though traumatized by whatever change had taken a man and made it into this thing.

It was the face, though, that was most disturbing, with a man’s eyes glaring hatefully out of a face had been pulled into a mockery of a muzzle, its mouth filled with a confused mixture of rending fangs and human teeth.

If some demented child god had been given the power to squeeze a wolf and a man together like modeling clay, perhaps this would have been the result.

Walter took it in during the instant that the creature was dazed, then another followed the first in through the broken window and two more ran in from the kitchen and bedroom.

“Those two,” Walter said urgently, pushing Doru toward the one he had already hit and the one that had followed it into the room. It was all he had time to say before the werewolves - if that was what they were - were upon them.

He lashed the wires he had already dropped from his rings, using them like a cutting whip against the creature in the lead. There was a surprising amount of resistance when he jerked the wires tight, but a second harder jerk sent his attacker flying in pieces that spun away from the wires like only so much butchered meat.

The other creature drove its full body weight into him, sending him crashing back against the wall and driving his breath out in a whoosh. He slammed the heel of his hand upward to snap its jaw closed before it could bite him and slapped his other hand down on its side, under its upraised arm. He released enough wire with the slap to wrap its upper body, then he jerked his hand away.

The creature split in half, its legs giving out and falling under Walter’s feet, its upper body still tried to grab for him to claw or bite even when Walter shoved it away from him to fall to the floor several feet away.

He spat in disgust and whipped wire around its neck to sever its head, then turned in time to see Doru plunging his hand into the last surviving creature’s chest. No, not into - through. His hand exploded out of the creature’s back, and if he had grasped its heart, what remained of it was little more than shredded meat now.

He had dealt with the fourth creature while Walter was busy dispatching his two. It lay crumpled against the wall with its head hanging on by a tenuous bit of flesh and tendons.

While Walter watched, he pulled the curtain over the shattered window. “I can hear more out there, and at least one has to be the sniper. Stay away from the windows.”

Walter surveyed the carnage. It had been less than a minute since the sniper’s bullet had hit the door.

“Werewolves?”

Doru looked at the bodies and shook his head. “I haven’t seen one in a century, but it didn’t look like that. They make me think of ghouls. If a werewolf could make a ghoul, they might look like these things.”

“Wereghouls?”

Doru snorted a laugh and shrugged. “Near enough.”

The creatures might not have been werewolves, but now that they were dead, they were twisting and changing, losing the hair and claws, the faces wrenching back to human.

Walter recognized Rolf Lieber’s face on the one Doru had torn the heart out of. The other two that were at least somewhat intact looked to be Rolf’s “cousins.”

Walter didn’t have time to digest that information as another chorus of howls rose outside. It sounded as though they were coordinating a fresh attack, signalling to one another. If all of Rolf’s ersatz family were creatures like these, he could expect another half dozen attackers at least.

“They’re coming again.”

“Yes.” Doru absently licked blood off his fingers and then said, “I’m going for the sniper. I trust you can manage anything else they send at you.”

“Go.”

Doru flashed him a smile and in an instant had thrown himself through the broken kitchen window and into the night.

He heard the rifle crack again and ruthlessly quashed any concern for Doru. He heard something thump on the floor in the kitchen and reacted instantly the sight of a grenade bouncing toward the front room..

He dove through the broken front window and received an extra boost from the concussion of the grenade’s explosion, rolling on his shoulder and bounding up to take cover against the Bentley in case Doru hadn’t taken out the sniper yet.

More of the wereghouls - he thought the term would stick - ran at him, rounding both sides of the cottage. In the back of his mind he hoped Doru would be smart enough to get out of the way as Walter rose from cover and sent a whirlwind of wire to ravage the pack before they could draw near.

The carnage was nearly instantaneous, turning monsters to meat in a blink. Walter heard a howl behind him cut off to a yelp of pain before Doru was once again standing at his side.

Walter looked toward the cottage in time for a second explosion to nearly knock him off his feet. Doru steadied him and they watched flames lick out of the broken window.

“Gas line?”

“Probably.” Walter looked around for any further movements in the night. The fire made shadows dance all around him, but nothing large moved while he scanned around them.

“There were two snipers,” Doru informed him. “I took care of them and one other that was trying to circle behind you. I don’t think there’s anything else out there.

“Good.” Walter pulled open the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. “Come on.”

•••

After the howls and rattle of gunfire, Arthur had taken control immediately. He had ordered the guards in the hallway into the meeting chamber and set them to securing the room. The meeting chamber was well-equipped for security with reinforced doors and walls and heavy steel shutters that could be locked and barred over the windows.

It was cold comfort to Arthur that he and the rest of the Round Table could be safe in their cage while his people died in the rest of the manor. The servants were noncombatants, dammit!

He was surprised the telephone had not been cut off, but perhaps that was next. His first call was to Walter, his second was to the nearest Army company.

Hugh was at his shoulder. “The RAF and Aberdeen airport if you can get through,” he suggested. “Your man has to get here somehow and I should hope he’s too clever to think to drive over 500 miles to come to our rescue.”

Arthur clapped Hugh on the shoulder and made the calls. Halfway through his call with the administrators of the airport in Aberdeen, “Yes, check my authorization codes, but bloody well do it!” the line finally went dead.

“That’s that, I suppose,” he said mostly to himself. “Our duty now is to keep the members alive until reinforcements come.”

The Tannoy crackled to life and all eyes in the room turned upward to the ceiling-mounted speaker grille and Richard’s voice greeted them. He sounded tense and eager, and filled with a seething undercurrent of rage. .

“We can do this the easy way. Just unbar the doors and send Arthur out. Once he’s dealt with, there will be no further need to debate who van Helsing’s heir is.”

To Arthur’s surprise, it was Sykes who made a rude noise and shook his head at the rest of the Round Table members. “He can’t risk that. If we open the doors, he has to kill us all. I can’t even say he’d spare those of us who voted for him; he’s just that vicious. I think he’s going for a clean sweep”

Aubrey surprised them all. “Then why did you back him?” He looked abashed at speaking up, but Arthur gave him an approving nod. Sometimes Arthur thought he might have to revise his impression of Aubrey as a sad guinea pig. .

Sykes spread his hands and said unapologetically, “I thought I could use him.”

Arthur’s observation on Sykes’ shortsightedness was cut short by Richard. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. The manor is cut off, my forces have already killed most of Arthur’s incompetents, and if you give them too much time to get restless... well, I think they might just act like animals.”

There was a sound of shuffling and struggle from the speaker, then muffled whimpers. They could hear Richard’s voice soothing and cajoling someone before the muffled whimpers suddenly turned into full-throated screams of terror and pain mixed with animalistic snarls.

Richard left the connection open.

The screams went on a very long time.

•••

Walter blessed Arthur’s foresight from the cockpit of a Hawker Hunter training jet. He and Doru were crushed together in the trainee’s seat while the pilot took them on a high speed flight from Aberdeen to London. To call it “highly irregular” was a charming bit of understatement, but whatever got them to their destination was a highly irregular bit of good fortune.

The trainer had been scrambled for him before he had even reached the airport to demand the fastest transport they had. It touched down and refueled while he was still giving them the identification codes that would authorize this breach of security.

When a confused-looking official had tried to request authorization for Doru, Walter had been ready to beat the man’s head against his desk until he got out of the way, but Doru put a cautioning hand on Walter’s arm, smiled warmly at the official, and murmured, “There is no problem.”

Walter watched the dazed expression spread over the man’s features before he murmured back, “There is no problem?”

Doru smiled more and squeezed Walter’s arm. “There is no problem.”

Less than twenty minutes after Arthur’s call they were in the jet and flying directly toward Hellsing manor. No, not the airport, Walter had repeated until the pilot finally gave in. He gave the pilot the exact coordinates and said no, thank you, he would not be needing a parachute, although his companion...?

Doru answered the hanging question with a shake of his head.

No parachutes.

It was too loud in the jet to have a conversation. He settled for trying to relax in Doru’s arms. He was pumped full of adrenaline and fear for Arthur, but he knew there was nothing he could do in transit.

They were pushing the outer limits of the jet’s flight range, but it was worth the risk.

Forty minutes later, one hour after Arthur had made his call, the pilot gave the signal that they were approaching the right coordinates. Walter did not know if the man saw him twist to give Doru a hard, thorough kiss, and he did not care in the least.

The jet dropped lower and popped its canopy and Walter and Doru stood up to be swept out of the plane by the punishing force of the wind.

Walter whooped with glee despite the situation. There would never be anything better than free fall, except perhaps, free fall with someone to watch his back when they hit the ground.

He pointed Doru toward the manor grounds and tipped his body to guide his fall toward the open sward of the manor grounds. They would search for every invader, and they would destroy every single one.

He cast out a virtual tornado of wires, keeping Doru safe with him in the calm center of the funnel, and used the wire to slow his descent on trees and the sides of the manor until he landed with a hard thump on the grass, knees bent to absorb the shock.

They rose together and were both silent for a moment. There were occasional bursts of gunfire that signaled that not all of Hellsing’s soldiers had given up the fight yet.

With a hand on Doru’s arm, Walter guided him to a side door. There should have been a guard on the door, and Walter found his body tossed into the hedge.

“Claw marks, not bullets,” he observed before opening the door and slipping into the hallway. The lights were still on, making the blood he saw smeared on the black and white checkered tile almost scream up at him. The hall was lined with doors, most of which stood open.

He moved forward to look into the first empty guardroom. There were two dead men tossed casually on the floor, their card table knocked over. Playing cards littered the floor, spattered with spots and lines of blood.

“Angel!”

Walter turned back to see Doru standing at the threshold. “Come on!” ‘

Doru shook his head. “You have to invite me in.”

Walter frowned. That was usually a myth or fewer people would succumb to vampire attacks.

As though he could read the thought off Walter’s face, Doru hissed, “It’s Hellsing, Angel. Did you never think it would be protected in other ways than just guns and wires?”

Walter shook his head; there simply wasn’t time for an argument when there were people he knew who he could be saving. “I invite you in.”

Doru grinned broadly and stepped over the threshold.
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Hunting the Hunter