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Mannequin	By : SweetKitten Category: Hellsing > General Views: 2334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own HellsinG, nor do I pretend to. All characters and affiliations belong correctly and legally to Mr. Kouta Hirano. I'm just using them for a fan powered work of fiction. No profit is made - this is purely from my mind.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
The day that followed was anything but ordinary within the Hellsing walls. An ancient monster sat in a kitchen with an immortal angel, plotting and planning as the hours of daylight passed by unnoticed. A young monster was in her room, dancing with glee at her new found revelation, creating a work of art on her floor with her feet and own coagulated blood. But up in the towers, a cold queen who ruled her little castle was brooding - for something was weighing heavily on her mind. She stood at the window, watching the sun pass through the sky as she shrouded herself in smoke. On her desk lay a single paper file, the pages and pictures scattered across the usually prim and pristine surface. She knew what she had done was a simple and stupid mistake – focusing too much on one thing. Her father would have been furious with what she had let slip, as she was furious with herself for not noticing sooner. Her time within the Queen’s dungeon should have made her realize her stupidity – yet she was still caught up in the events that had nearly leveled London and the fantasy that she had lived in for years.

            “Is it too late?” the blonde wondered out loud in the room. She took another drag from her cigarillo and breathed deep, rolling the question on her tongue. As she exhaled, the smoke curled comfortingly around her, as if soothing her for the answer. Father would have said yes, and used outside sources to quell things before they would get out of hand – and the cycle would continue, her brain answered. It was a cruel thing, this cycle her family lead. To use one of the most powerful monsters – once a powerful warlord who was a prince, and sank to a count to hide himself from the world – to eradicate his kind. But not just that, a cold smile worked its way across her lips.

            “No, it’s not too late.” the answer rang within the hollow room.

            “You are cruel, Vladimir.” Walter narrowed his eyes at the man who sat before him. A cheshire grin greeted his gaze.

            “Cruel? That’s a new one I have not heard from you, angel. Mad, yes – but never cruel.”

            Walter eased his sore elbows off of the kitchen table. After leaning on them for several hours while the vampire outlined an elaborate scheme, the retainer was beginning to feel some discomfort. “I seem to recall a man who was once so cruel that the Church itself was bent on condemning him for all eternity for his crimes.” Immediately the smile vanished.

            “Watch where you tread, angel.” The growl that emanated from the man was laced with promises of pain.

            “I cannot, and will not.” Walter replied. “You forget, Voivode, that I was there when you lost yourself to the madness.” Cool grey eyes studied the broiling red that was across the table, and watched as the red pools flicked through emotions of hatred and anger.

            “Are you begging for a fight?” Alucard ground out at the angel’s statement, his usually deep baritone now darker, and dripping with power. He could feel the tendrils of Walter’s strings wrapping around his ankles as the angel nonchalantly inspected his fingernails.

            “No. I want no fight. However, I will do all I can to prevent this cruelty that you have in mind. Remember, Vlad Dracula, that salvation is not what she needs.” Walter’s gentle voice spat out the last bit of sentence, as if it was a poison. With a roar, Alucard rose from his seat, slamming his white gloved hands upon the table.

            “You forget your place, servant of Hellsing!” he yelled, tendrils of darkness rising from his form. The vampire barely felt the strings around his ankles tighten, and the gentle caress of more that snaked about his form. Walter turned his attention from his hand to the monster that seethed before him. The angel’s face regarded no emotion, just cool collection. Yet the deep grey eyes held such malice it could have been rivaled by the blood red orbs across the table.

            “And you forget…voivode…the salvation you brought upon your people. They still whisper about it today, the travesty that was forced upon innocents. The whispers linger – and not just here on earth. You forget, Vladimir, that I was assigned to you for those crimes that you committed.” Walter pointed a single finger at the vampire. The voice that followed was nothing like the angel, who so diligently and happily went about his work within the manor. No, the voice that emanated from the body of the retainer was a voice that even Alucard was surprised to hear.

            “THERE. IS. NO. GREATER. TASK. THAN. TO. FOLLOW. DEATH. ITSELF.”

            Immediately all anger the vampire held toward the angel was nullified as his vision blurred. A memory came unbidden to the surface – one that he had forgotten since he was young. He knew what the angel was doing, and it was far past the time that he had remembered such things. The monster had let himself slip into comfort, and forgot all that he was – just a servant to a family that had seen his weakness and defeated him once. But there was more to the story, and more to him that was just beneath the barrier that a name held over him…

            A young Vlad Dracul-a was standing in a frozen courtyard, staring at a young blonde boy who lay naked, chest down, on the flagstones. He saw a form kneel near the boy’s buttocks, and reach between the legs to slash at something. In slow motion Vlad watched as the boy reacted, lifting his head and screaming to the heavens. But that was only the beginning. Vlad could feel his heart pick up speed as a large, well oiled pole came into view, sliding between the boys’ legs, and into his body. He watched as the boy’s mouth opened in primal screams of pain, yet no sound issued within the bubble of the memory. It seemed an eternity as Vlad watched the boy’s prolonged torture, his excitement growing at each inch that slid into the boy. He had finally understood, and the death of this boy had brought his revelation. Soon the pole was raised to the sky, the body of the boy slipping down its well oiled surface until the end protruded from his slack mouth. His feet were then grabbed and hastily nailed to the pole, as if in mock crucifixion. The young prince had not once taken his eyes off of the boy, and when his vision was graced with the form upon the pole, the young prince been lost, and he knew that this was his salvation.

            Alucard’s vision cleared as the memory faded, as did his malice toward the man who stood before him. “That memory was never one of my favorites.” The soft sentence slid from between the thin lips of a ragged prince, a man who had been defeated twice – once for his country and another for his life. He slowly sank back into the chair which he had moments ago burst up from, letting his lean form sag into it. The angel across the table watched as the fire within the blood orbs died, replaced by hollow pools. White gloved hands rose to cover the aristocratic face.

            “What have I become?”

            Walter had to strain to hear the mumbled question from the husk of a prince that sat before him.

            “You became what you needed to be for your country, and for you.”

            “My country…”

            “Vlad – if this plan is enacted, you can go home. We can all go home. But do you want to leave behind another legacy that speaks of such madness?”

            The white gloved hands slid down, revealing the eyes that were hollow moments ago. Yet what burned within them was the spirit of a man who had embraced his madness long ago and had let it consume him.

            “Yes.”

            Seras did not know when she had collapsed into her bed, and neither did she know when she had fallen asleep. What she did know was that when she had awoken, her nightshift as well as her feet and bed were covered in her own, crusted blood.

            “Oh! EW!” The young vampress exclaimed, jumping up from the blood strewn sheets. “Oh god, it’s everywhere – what happened?” Her eyes swept around her room, surveying the new décor of rust colored footprints. She recalled summoning her master, and that he had said something to her…but what? Hard as she tried, Seras could not seem to remember.

            “Did we fight…?” The woman questioned to the barely furnished room. “Is that why there’s so much blood?” Quickly lifting her nightshift, Seras set about inspecting her body to see if there was any physical damage. Neither bruise nor cut graced the soft porcelain skin.

            “Dammit! What in the bloodly hell happened!” Seras cursed, stamping her bare feet on the stone floor. Huffing, she set about gathering her toiletries and stomped off to her bathroom, slamming open the door and throwing about the clothes she had decided to wear as well as her wash things. She almost didn’t notice the reflection in the mirror. It had caught the corner of her eye as she had swept past it in order to turn on the water, a small glimpse of brown in the reflected room. Confused, Seras slowly backed up – until she stood before the mirror. She gasped at the reflection she saw. The nightshift she wore floated in the middle of the mirror, nothing holding it up within the reflection. Yet the blood trails on her skin were visible as well, and she could see plainly that she had been crying.

            “I was…crying?” Seras gently reached up to touch her cheek. Her fingers came in contact with a hard crusty substance – the remainder of her tears. “What happened to me?” Seras wondered aloud – stepping forward to gently stoke the surface of the mirror, leaving tiny flakes of dark blood on its pristine surface. Turning away from the odd reflection, Seras continued with her plans to shower as her brain began to mull over the odd events. As she stripped her soiled nightshift from her body, the warmth of the steam began to fill the room, causing goosebumps to rise on her creamy skin. She sighed in happiness at she stepped into the warmth of the water, and soon her brain was happy to forget anything but the feeling of the warmth on her skin.

            It was nearly an hour later that Seras finally emerged from the bathroom – her skin flushed from rigorous scrubbing. She had forgotten all about trying to find out what had happened last night while she was enjoying getting clean, but as soon as she opened the door from the bathroom the events that happened came crashing back. Dozens of bloody footprints were all about her room, and her bed seemed as if something, or someone, was murdered in it.

            “Ugh, god.” Seras wrinkled her nose. “I’m going to get crap from Walter about this one.” Sighing heavily, the young lady gingerly made her way around the footprints, trying hard not to step on any and get her clean feet dirty again. Her goal was the laundry basket sitting forlornly in the corner and after an intricate dance – she finally reached her goal. After dumping her soiled nightshift inside, the vampress turned to regard her room and possibly come up with a plan to start cleaning, since she certainly wasn’t going to get any answers from herself about what happened. As she raked her eyes slowly across the room, her vision settled on a plain bucket that sat near her dinner table chair.

            The blood.

            Her eyes widened slightly. She had forgotten about it! Is there any… the thought trailed off as Seras’s brain began to think of scenarios to explain the macabre context of her room. Did I throw a tantrum? Is this the blood from those packets? Did I – oh god! – did I drink it? Trembling slightly, Seras padded over to the pail. Holding breathe that was unnecessary, she leaned over to peek into it. The ice had melted long ago, and the clear water that remained showed two red packets at the bottom.

            “Oh thank god.” Seras sighed in relief. No sooner than she did though, her tummy gave a slight rumble. Biting her bottom lip with a single cat-like fang, Seras leaned over to regard the red packs again. Her tummy rumbled once more, with a little more force. Well…I guess I AM hungry…her brain kicked in, and she unconsciously licked her pink lips. Her eyes locked onto the red substance, and without her realizing it, she began to lean forward and reach…

            With a gasp, Seras jerked back. “No! No no no no no! I can’t! I won’t!” She screeched into the emptiness of her room.

            Ah, but you will.

            To her horror, Seras watched as her own hand reached down into the bucket and picked up a packet. Her lips parted in anticipation, her fangs extending slightly as the packet moved closer to her mouth. Her eyes grew wide at she felt the plastic touch her nose, and she let out a small squeak as her mouth closed around the pouch and her fangs pierced it.

            Told you so. Her subconscious smiled as it felt the first draws of the life it needed to survive. And now you will see why you need to let go.

            Seras moaned in happiness as she sucked the pouch dry, her body beginning to feel more alive and lithe, due to the nourishing meal. She eagerly tossed the empty pack away and grabbed its twin residing in the pail, savagely tearing at its corner to reach the sustenance within. She never felt so good! It was as if she were eating a favorite food when she was human, the taste and feel of it revitalizing her mind and body. When that pack was drained, Seras happily tossed the remainder away as well, and sank down to the floor, licking her fingertips of any remnants and feeling sated. As she slowly came back down from the euphoria of feeding, Seras began to notice things. First, her vision seemed sharper than before. She could make out a crack in the wall that was so tiny, no human eye could have discovered its presence. She could also hear the people in the halls above her – so many floors above! It was as if they were in her hallway, the sounds were so clear.

            “Wow…”Seras whispered to herself. She never knew it was like this. “I guess it is important to eat now and again.” Smiling, Seras knew that she had done something good. Yet somewhere, in the back of her brain, something grew a little weaker. Seras’s smile vanished as a fleeting feeling of something wrong crossed her brain, but disappeared as soon as she tried to move. Seras squealed in ecstasy, and collapsed back into the position she had sank to on the floor.

            “What the hell?” Seras gasped. Slowly raising an arm, Seras shivered at the contact the clothing she had picked out rubbed against her skin. “Are my senses heightened that much?” She wondered aloud. Trying the same movement again, Seras got the same result – her skin sang with pleasure as the cloth rubbed against it.

            “Oh…” The young vampress bit her lip, and pondered what to do. All her senses were heighted to the extreme right now, and it seemed as movement caused her clothing to rub against her skin, which happened to be heightened to the sense of touch. I guess it was because I ate finally…maybe it will go away in a bit. But – it feels so good…

            Seras had never been the type of girl to experiment in the ways of pleasure. Sure, there had been a few evenings in her police days where a good romance novel had let her imagination run wild and she had rubbed herself down there a few times while daydreaming – but nothing felt quite like this. She never really could say that she experienced an orgasm either, being a virgin when she was turned at all that. Blushing, Seras couldn’t help but think of what a pitiful sight she must be, collapsed on the floor in a heap because she was too self-conscious to move after feeding. She didn’t know it was going to cause side effects like this! Her master should have warned her about this type of thing, the bastard. But that was typical of him; the cynical man would be grinning at her predicament. Blushing some more, Seras could not help but think of what her master would do if her saw her like this. He probably would berate me on how stupid I was for not sucking it up and dealing with the consequences of feeding. And then look at me with those eyes of his…shivering despite the flush on her skin, Seras’s eyes began to slip closed.

            He’d look at me, and see me all flushed and hot.

            Biting her lip, Seras experimentally rubbed her thighs together, cooing audibly at the pleasurable friction that resulted.

            He’d see me with those eyes of his, those hypnotic, beautiful eyes that go so well with his face, and he’d reach for me…Seras’s eyes slipped shut as she reached up to grasp at one of her breasts. She had not put on a bra after her shower, and her heavy, e-cup sized globes had hung freely underneath her shirt. As one hand reached for her breast, the other slid sensually down her hip stopping to rest at the junction between her thighs.

            Oh, he wouldn’t be master then, oh no. He’s a Prince.

            Seras gasped as her hand caressed her breast, the friction causing her back to arch off of the floor. The rough fabric scraped against her sensitive nipple, and she audibly moaned at the brief contact. Her other hand began to lazily move in circles, and move lower to where the fabric of her pants was starting to get damp.

            “Oh………” Seras vocalized, the soft moan turning into a squeak as her hand brushed against her nub. Her eyes flew open for a few moments before slamming shut at the pleasure the fabric was causing.

            My prince… her brain mused. He would be touching me like so…yes…sighing happily; she surrendered herself to the fantasy.

            Seras gasped as his hands roughly squeezed her breasts. “Please!” She cried out, her elbows roughly scraping against the stone she was leaning on. They were in plain view of the town below them. The balcony offered little to hide from the view, despite being high on the mountain as the town rested in the valley below.

            “No one shall see.” A rough voice growled in her ear behind her as a lean, hard figure pressed into her back. “We are too high up for them to see plainly. All they will see is a small figure at best.” His ministrations on her breasts continued as a gloved finger flicked at a hardened nipple. She squeaked at the action, and could feel the grin that he pressed to her neck. “What did I deserve to see this, little one?” the voice drawled, the grin growing wider against the soft, exposed skin.

            “I…I…” Seras stammered, at a loss for words as the hands continued to knead her large bosom.

            “You wanted to please me.” The voice finished.

            “Yes…” Seras mewled, a rewarding caress of silky hair across her chin causing the mewl to climb upward in pitch.

            “Then I am not pleased to see you like this.”

            Seras blinked, not sure of what was said. “My lord?” She questioned, swallowing heavily as a hand moved from her breast down to her waist.

            “I said, I am not pleased to see you like this.” As if to make his point, the hand at her waist tightened, glove-covered fingers digging painfully into the folds of her skirt. Seras gasped at the sensation, a wave of pleasure beginning to curl deep within her abdomen.

            “Then…” she licked her lips, unsure of how to continue. “Then how would my lord like to see me?” A deep rumble against her neck caused her eyelids to flutter shut, the ministrations of both hands beginning to unravel her mind.

            “I want to see you as you are.”

            Her brow furrowed at the answer. “As I am?”

            “Open your eyes.”

            Seras opened her eyes and expected to see the town below her, however what she saw was her own body, in her bloody room. She saw herself in the throes of pleasure, as hands roamed her body, caressing and teasing. But they were not her own hands – no – what she saw caused the coil of pleasure in her abdomen to clench so hard it was nearly painful. She was sitting in his lap, her hands clenching the fabric of his charcoal pants as he caressed her left breast with a white gloved hand. His right hand was between her legs, rubbing slowly at her fabric covered clit. Seras cried out in pleasure at watching the scene below her – and the very male form behind her pressed closer. She could feel him, every contour, and feel the pleasure that was below her as she continued to watch him play with her.

            “I see you.” Was the low rumble that came from behind her, and all of a sudden she was falling.

            Seras jolted up from the floor, panting heavily. What the hell just happened? She slowly removed her hand from between her legs, wincing at how damp the fabric had become. Trying to calm her unnecessary breathing, Seras glanced about her macabre room as she tried to make sense on what had just happened in her fantasy. There was no way that could have been real. Her master would not intrude like that – not him! Closing her eyes, Seras took a deep breath. It had all seemed real due to the after effects of the feeding. Yes, that was all. As if to solidify her decision, Seras raised her arm, and the fabric slid harmlessly across her skin.

            “See? There. All better.” Seras assured herself out loud, despite the quiver in her voice. “Nothing more than a dream. A very vivid dream, but a dream.” Taking another deep breath, Seras rose from her position on the floor.

            “And now I need another shower.”

Please be kind, review/rewind!

SUB NOTES:

Voivode - it is a term for warlord, or ruler in the Lima Romana language that Dracula would have spoken in the time period.

Dracul-a : This also refers to the language Dracul means Dragon or Devil, the a suffix means son. So, put the two together and you get Son of Dragon/Devil.
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Mannequin