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Psalms for the Fallen	By : anyasy Category: Hellsing > General Views: 3357 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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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Psalms
for the Fallen

Chapter
3

I

The
orphanage looked less forbidding in the sunlight, its bleached stone crumbling
and old under tended ivy; on the immaculate lawns before it children played
with a battered old soccer ball. The goal posts were flowerpots moved
from the gardens, and boys and girls played alike in a game that was becoming
not so much a match but a free-for-all scrum. From the thick shrubs of
the copse of woods that surrounded the Vatican-funded orphanage, he watched,
gloved fingers curled tight.

The
children should be separated. Fighting against themselves � however
playfully � should not be encouraged. Other priests sometimes said he was
too strict, but children had to learn. Even as he watched, Heinkel
pulled Yumiko�s hair, laughing as she made a grab for the ball, dancing around
a sharp shove by Maxwell as the boy protested that she was cheating.

Heinkel.
Yumiko. Maxwell. The names drifted in his consciousness as
something within him struggled, and he looked down at his palms. The
pentagrams of Hellsing adorned the backs of his gloves, burning red and unholy
and unclean, and he hissed in surprise, trying to pull them off. A
searing pain lanced through his fingers once he began to tug on the hem of a
glove, but he ignored it, gritting his teeth.

A
voice made him stop and look up.

�Ach,
tha�s wrong, ye shouldnae raise ae hand against yer own! Ye�ll never get
t�heaven that way!�

Himself.
Younger, his hair still a richer, tawny gold, running out from the orphanage, trailed
by nuns, wading into the scrimmage of little clawing hands and short, kicking
legs to pull out Heinkel and Yumiko by the scruff of their clothes.
�Heinkel! Yumiko!�

Yumiko
took one look at his stern expression and burst into tears, and from the shrubs,
Anderson watched his younger self�s expression soften. �Yumiko� Yumiko,
hush, child, dinnae fret.�

�I�m
sorry,� Heinkel muttered, suddenly, as Anderson set them down. �Yumiko.�

�Father�
Father Anderson.� Sister Maria was the first to catch up, despite her age, her
wrinkled face creased into a frown. �Let the children play. It was
only in the heat of a game.�

�Do
you cry, when you are weak? Why cry? Why not stand and strike down the other?�
Enrico stared contemptuously at Yumiko, and Heinkel glared at him, the girls
hugging each other tightly.

�Yumiko
is my friend. I was wrong to hurt her,� Heinkel bristled.

�Friend,
foe, war, play,� Enrico looked up sharply at Anderson, who was silent, his
smile cool. �I can see what we�re learning here, Father. The
scripture taught in the classrooms, why some of us are singled out over the
others. Heinkel, myself, Ricard, Oliver, Esther, I can understand, but Yumiko?�

The
younger version of himself adjusted his glasses, silent, and behind him, the
other Sister caught up. Sister Elizabeth, the Selector, the one who chose
future members of Iscariot from the orphanages. Thin and tall, her sharp
features were hooded under the habit, and she was smiling, flat and
unkind.

He
remembered this. The first, small seed of doubt in doing what he had been told
was God�s Will, in questioning, that had led to his murder of the boy
standing defiant before him. Execution. Murder. His stained
hands did not deserve such memories, and so he turned away, stepping
determinedly into the thorny shrubs, closing his eyes as branches raked his
cheeks�

And
awoke, with a harsh gasp, into a dimly lit room. No, not a room � a train
carriage, richly furnished, if with musty, crimson velvets across the
windows. Gold chandeliers hung heavy with crystals from the ceiling, and
he sat on a high-backed, cushioned bench that faced a table draped in white
satin, upon which there was a dark bottle of champagne and an empty crystal
champagne flute. The ground was thickly carpeted in a rich tapestry of
deep turquoise and amber, and the train seemed empty, rumbling underneath him, moving,
and it smelled ashen, dusty, of the faint caked copper of old blood. Alucard.

Quickly,
Anderson pulled open the nearest window drape, and blinked as he watched the
countryside sleet past. They were moving remarkably quickly for what
looked like an antique train.

A
light step behind him made him rise to his feet, bayonets in his hands, and he
narrowed his eyes at the sight of a tall, thin bald man, pale and smiling,
dressed in vest and coattails, sketching a graceful bow. �Ah, Lord
Anderson. You are awake. Would you care for some refreshments?�

Anderson
narrowed his eyes, sniffing. Even if the lack of a heartbeat wasn�t clue
enough, the large, tattered hole in the man�s throat was a decent clue.
�Ghoul.�

�Not�
technically, Lord Anderson. I am Oscar Robsen, late of Suffolk. I
think I was last alive� three hundred and forty years ago, or so. Lord
Alucard has pressed me briefly back into service while he takes care of
business elsewhere, and has instructed me to dress for the occasion.�

Anderson
glanced at the man�s shoes. The shadows they drew were unnaturally long,
curving into the wall of the train, and for a moment, a red eye opened within
it, winking at him, before closing.

Bastard.

�Where
are we goin�?�

�Romania,
Lord Anderson. Bran Castle.�

�Alucard?�

�I
am afraid he is still engaged on business, Lord Anderson, but he assured me
that he would return posthaste.�

Anderson
bared his teeth, flicked his wrist, and skewered Oscar with bayonets through
the man�s head and throat. The old man grinned, jagged, under the blades,
even as he staggered back.

�Perhaps
you wish to be left alone, Lord Anderson?�

Anderson
beheaded the creature with a growl, and watched in some irritation as Oscar
merely dissolved back onto the carpet, slipping back into the shadows, edged in
crimson. Alucard�s insane laughter echoed through the compartment,
red-pupilled eyes opening over the ceiling, blinking at him.

�So
you resisted the compulsion, Judas Priest.�

Compulsion?
Anderson frowned. �What are ye talkin� about now, monster?�

�Removing
your gloves.� Another stretch of insane laughter. �The seal you wear is
different from Seras�. You could break it if you wished to.
Curious, my Lady Integral, very curious, my Lord Hellsing! Did you wish to
distract me with this little dilemma? Do you like the little renovations I
performed on this train, Alex?�

His
seal? Anderson stared down at his gloves, and had to smirk. Indeed, he
was bait, carefully constructed and primed, a puzzle on a silver platter
for a monster, and his respect for the devious mind of the Protestant woman
increased. Integral no doubt hoped Alucard would waste time attempting to
manipulate Anderson, while she marshaled whatever plan she still had to bind
the monster. Very well. The least he could do was to hold out: it
seemed that his subconscious had been equally determined to do so, layering a
memory over a monster�s dream to prevent him from removing the limiter.

�Set
ae guard o�er my mouth, o Lord! Keep watch o�er the door o� my lips. Let
nae my heart be drawn t�what is evil.� Anderson grinned behind the white
claw his gloved hands made before his face, and slashed the bayonet at the wall
of the carriage, drawing a deep rent in the shadows. �Come out, vampire.�

�Later,
sweet Alex. Business calls me from your side.� Alucard�s tone was
mocking. �If you try to leave the train, I will have to restrain
you. Have a drink of champagne and wait for me like a good boy.�

Another
flick of his wrist, and a bayonet shattered the bottle on the table.
�Ah�ll kill ye, monster. Someday. Ah swear it.�

Mocking,
maniacal laughter was the only response.

II

Seras
sat up quickly when she sensed her Master�s approach. She was standing
rather self-consciously in the large stone chamber that Alucard had selected as
his room, and as Alucard had commanded, his coffin, and Anderson�s, had already
been bound for transport.

She
had spent the better part of an hour wondering whether or not to agree to his
request, but the fact that he hadn�t asked her to prepare her coffin for
transport made her curious.

�Master.�

Alucard
grinned as he stepped out of the shadows, glancing at the wrapped
coffins. �Good work, Seras.�

�Where
are you going, sir?�

�Bran
Castle.� Alucard sauntered over to the coffins, and sat down upon them, his red
eyes daring her to ask her question. Swallowing, Seras blinked, and
decided on smaller ones, first. She no longer feared Alucard, having
embraced the darkness that was their birthright herself, but the primal creature
born within her when she had taken Pip�s blood was wary of his raw strength.

�Ah�
Integral-sama went to London with Anderson-san��

�She�s
still in London. On her way back here, I think. And very angry.�
Alucard chuckled, wickedly pleased. �I have to thank her for the
construction of such a delicious little puzzle.�

�Ehh�
in London��

�Another
vampire has awoken. Lady Lamia, Queen of Libya, older far even than me,�
Alucard said curtly, leaning forward, his arms on his knees. �One of the
Old Ones, whose magic stems from what is forgotten, rather than the dark,
demonic blood-magic of those of us born from the Midian curse. They are
Midians, but not Midians. Tell Integral this when she lands. Ask
her to speak to the Vatican.�

�Ahh�
when she comes back� then I-�

�You
are to stay here. Guard her. If she chooses to present her case to
Rome, as I think she might, brash woman, she will need aid.�

�Yes,
Master, but why?� Seras asked, puzzled now. �I would have thought that
you would leave everything, return to Romania.�

�Things
are interesting now, very interesting!� Alucard said lazily. �I wish to
observe a little, and for that I need some� breathing space, as they say.� The
vampire seemed to draw in to himself, his long, black hair falling over his
eyes, curtaining all but his brilliant, manic grin.

�Do
you understand freedom, Seras Victoria?�

�Master?�

�It�s
a joyous thing, for a human. Freedom. Joyous and dangerous.
But for a Midian� an immortal� bah, first it excites, then it interests, then,
centuries and centuries later� it is a curse. Entropy�s curse,
freedom. God�s punishment. All we have the freedom to do is to wait
for our final curtain, that only the joyous, dangerous freedom of a human can
deliver.�

�Master.�
Seras frowned. Alucard was occasionally prone to manic, incomprehensible
rants, and she had never thought very much of it. Now it occurred to her,
for the first time, that his insanity was likely a result of his immortality,
part of �entropy�s curse�, part of his freedom. Certainly the more levels
of Cromwell he invoked, the more insane he became. Did Alucard want Integral
to�

�But
enough of that.� Alucard shrugged. �Ask Integral to look up this word:
�Dominion�. And protect her, police girl. This world has a famine
of interesting humans as she. And tell her I will wait for her in
Romania.� A wicked, shuddering laugh. �Just like I waited for
Abraham.�

�Yes�
yes, my Master,� Seras saluted, as Alucard and the coffins sank into
shadow. She could do that, at least.

It
occurred to her only sometime after Alucard had left that Integral had
told her expressly to delay him and contact her. �Oh dear.
Maa� I hope this is all right��

III

Anderson
was still struggling ineffectively with the shadow-bound doors to the rear of
the carriage when long thumbs suddenly hooked into the hem of his pants, a cool
breath whispering over the nape of his neck, and he growled, whirling, blades
outstretched, only to be pinned against the door, wrists slammed into the
gilded metal, Alucard�s grinning death�s mask inches from his face.

�Hello
Alex, my sweet.�

Anderson
sucked in a breath out of sheer habit and melted into shadow, only to start in
surprise as he was enveloped by darkness thicker than his own.
Desperately, he snapped and clawed and bit, writhing as he was blanketed, then
yelping and trying to flow out, to escape, as, beyond all rational sense and
possibility he felt Alucard�s caress. Light, teasing, playful, everywhere,
and the pleasure was instant and visceral and raw.

Startled,
he shifted back to flesh, pinned back against the door with a strangled gasp as
dark claws ripped his shirt open and slid, cool and sensual, up his ribs to
flick and tug at his nipples, pebbling them in the musty air, hiis heavy,
silver cross settling low on his ribs. Anderson snarled, jerking in the
grasp of the shadows, kicking, and abruptly, Alucard formed again out of his
crimson-tinted darkness, nestling between his thighs, pressing him back against
the metal.

�You
know nothing of being a Midian still,� Alucard said silkily, watching Anderson
arch and bite down on his lip to stifle a whimper as skeins of shadow continued
to toy with him, caress him, hold him helpless to Alucard�s whim. �But I
am glad to see that you�ve taken blood.�

�Ah
dinnae-�

�No?
But you can already shift fully to shadow,� Alucard raised an eyebrow, leaning
down to flick his tongue teasingly over Anderson�s jugular, grinning as the
priest shrank back. �All that through your strength of will? Interesting!
Interesting!�

�Fuck
ye, monster, Ah�ll kill ye, ye sick bastard-�

�Here�s
your first, belated lesson then, Alex.� Alucard trailed his gloved hands over
Anderson�s clothed thighs as he pressed the ridge of his erection firmly up
under the priest�s rump, smirking as Anderson grit his teeth.

�Even
with that limiter you wear, blood calls to blood. Until you free yourself
by drinking from me, you are mine. What freedom and will I allow you is
by my whim. However much you fight. However you resist. I
could make you spread your thighs for me willingly, make you scream my name to
your God as I fuck you and you would not be able to defy me.�

�Wha�
stops ye, monster?� Anderson growled, struggling against the silky compulsion,
the limiter hot on his hands, trying to concentrate on the burn. �Ah knae
why. If ye make me, it�d bore ye, aye? Ye want me t�fight,
sick bastard.�

�Good!
Very good. Yes, if I break your will, it would only be boring. What
fun is there in playing with a doll?� Alucard grinned, wickedly, �And you have
too much pride to give even an inch. All our little lessons, and you
still have yet to call me Master unless I force you.�

�Ah
should bite ye,� Anderson hissed, his eyes angry, then he snarled, muffled, as
Alucard kissed him, thrusting his long tongue deep into the priest�s throat and
chuckling as he felt teeth sharpen to fangs over his flesh, pricking but not
bleeding him. Anderson stiffened under the assault, then choked and
whined, as gloved fingers pinched his nipples, twisted, and Alucard
bucked hard beneath him. All unbidden, his legs had already wrapped
around the monster�s back, and if he writhed now in Alucard�s grasp it was in
pleasure, in want.

�Then
bite me,� Alucard drawled, as he pulled back to tongue Anderson�s neck,
smirking as Anderson let out a hitching moan. �Take my blood. Be
free.�

�Become
ae full monster, like ye?� Anderson gasped, contemptuous. �Perhaps Ah
knae more o� bein� ae Midian than ye think, monster.�

A
harsh, shuddering laugh. �True! True! Take the blood of your sire, and a childe
becomes a full, crowned, No Life King! Unlimited power! Unlimited potential!
But yes, take a sire�s blood, and lose all the fragments of your
humanity. The very last inch of your mortal coil. The very last
step you can take from God. Is that what you fear, Alexander Anderson,
Paladin Anderson, Angel Dust Anderson?�

�Ah
dinnae fear,� Anderson corrected, with a snarl. �But Ah would
destroy myself than t�become like ye.�

�Wonderful!
Wonderful!� Alucard�s laugh was manic, and did not seem to come from his
throat, but from all around Anderson, all the shadows, discordant and insane
and irritating in his ears. �One last scrap of humanity. One last
inch of mortality. Is that enough to kill me, Paladin? Is that enough
when it�s already so tainted?�

�Ah
swear it.�

�Oh,
I am happy to wait,� Alucard purred, pressing close again, grinding up against
Anderson as his hands tightened over the Paladin�s hips. �But until then,
Alex, until then, you owe me the pleasure of your company.�

Tendrils
of shadow drew Anderson�s wrists up over his head as Alucard began to nip at
his collar, others undoing the laces of his shoes and dragging them off his
feet, then socks, then his legs were let down, briefly, long enough for his
pants and underwear to be pulled down. Long, gloved fingers were tender
and cold, stroking his rump, urging his thighs back up over narrow hips, curious
over his flat belly, skilled over his firming cock, and Anderson�s chest was
heaving harshly in needless breaths, his eyes wild.

�Animal.
Pervert. Sick bastard.�

�It�s
a long journey to Romania, Alex.� Alucard�s eyes glittered with a dark, primal
lust, and Anderson jerked back against the door with a hiss as a gloved finger
pushed past the ring of muscle in his arse, dry, probing. �And I am
afraid that you are my only source of entertainment till then.�

Another
finger, and Anderson was panting as Alucard began to rub lightly against his
core, his arms tense in the grip of shadows and his glasses askew on his
nose. The bastard was all too familiar with his body, knew what made him
moan, what made him whimper, cool lips kissing, nipping at his ear, making him
flinch, whine.

�The
Covenant� will Ah nae break, nae alter the thing that is gone out o� my lips.�
Anderson grit his teeth, fixed his eyes on the ceiling, on the writhing
shadows, and hung tight to his final inch.

�Reciting
scripture in such a moment� is that not blasphemy?� Alucard inquired dryly,
even as the monster spat on the palm of his free hand, pale and perfect and
naked before him, stroking the fluid onto his arousal.

�Thou
hast made his glory t�cease, an� cast his throne down t�the ground.�
Anderson drew back his lips in a soundless snarl, as the other vampire began to
push into him, the friction burned, both pain and ecstasy, the
preparation all too insufficient. �What man� is he that liveth, an��
shall nae see death?�

�
�Shall he deliver his soul from the hand of the grave�?� Alucard finished the
quote, his smile lazy, as he buried himself slowly in the Paladin, his
unblinking red eyes challenging, amused, predatory. �Eighty-nine has
always been one of my favorites.�

�Dinnae
speak the word o� God, monster,� Anderson hissed, even as he couldn�t stop
himself from bucking tentatively down into the pressure, encouraging Alucard deeper.

�I
should say the same of you, sinner.� Alucard retorted, as he began to take Anderson
slowly against the rear door, his long hands supporting the priest�s weight,
ignoring his arousal. �Save your breath. You�ll lose your voice
before the night is through.�

�Fucken
monster� aah!� Anderson jerked as Alucard snapped his hips, sharp and
accurate, thrusting up and hard against his prostate, taking in shallow,
strangled breaths as the vampire returned to rocking into him.

�You
liked that, didn�t you?� Alucard taunted, drawing his thumb up against the
leaked pearl on the tip of Anderson�s cock and wrapping his tongue delicately
around it, as though tasting a drop of wine. �Do you prefer it rougher,
Alex? Do you want me to hold and kiss you like a lover, a woman, or do you want
me to rut with you like an animal? Alex!�

�When
Ah kill ye,� he growled, his fingers fisting in the grip of the shadows,
hanging on to his hatred, �It wouldnae� wouldnae be quick.�

�Perhaps.�
Alucard inclined his head, grinning as he felt Anderson begin to move against
his rhythm, almost unconsciously, wrapped to his will, even if the limiter kept
the priest from succumbing. It was obvious that the monster found the
situation delicious, and Anderson had to fight to hold on to his anger, as the
pleasure mounted, growing heady, addictive, even the taboo of his sin
alluring.

He
didn�t know how long it was before Alucard finally picked up his pace, bruising
his shoulders with every brutal, accurate thrust up into his aching body,
twice, thrice, and Anderson lost control of his voice, each spike of sheer
pleasure tearing a cry from his throat. Rougher, harder, and Alucard
abruptly leaned in to kiss him, sinking sharp teeth down onto his tongue, his
lips, the taste of his own blood and the unholy ecstasy from his sire�s bite
enough to make him buck and climax violently between their bodies.

Alucard
waited, licking at his wounded lip and tongue until the wounds closed,
chuckling into Anderson�s mouth, around him, smirking at the priest�s dazed,
sullen glare, still hard and thick within his lean frame.

�Take
yer fucken pleasure, bastard,� Anderson managed to gasp, wetly, then yelped
instead, as the shadows released him, the vampire tossing him easily aside, and
he landed hard against the edge of his bound coffin. Snarling weakly, he
tried to get to his feet, his thighs still nerveless from the strength of his
release, as Alucard sauntered over towards him, bent him down over the wood
with a vice-like grip over his shoulder, stroking the tip of his arousal
against Anderson�s sore opening.

�It�s
a long journey back to Romania, Alex,� Alucard purred. �And you�ve yet to
satisfy me.�

-tbc-
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Psalms for the Fallen