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

Chapter
8

I

Seras
Victoria had to admit that her favorite �vampiric� ability next to flight was
dream-walking. Dreams were curious things that vampires had but rarely,
and she had slowly become adept at slipping into those of the warm bodies who
slept in the house above her, careful, gentle and slow, watching and leaving,
unnoticed. She loved the �everyday� dreams best, the ones where people
dreamt, rather oddly, of doing ordinary things, sitting down to eat, taking
walks in the park, taking a drive.

Sometimes
she watched the darker dreams out of fascination: Sir Hellsing had many of
those, far too many, but the person whom she never tried dream-walking on
was the Master. Not that she was afraid of his ire � Alucard never seemed
to get angry at her no matter what she did � but she knew she was afraid of
what she would see.

What
she liked to do best was to sink into the half-dream world, and simply let the
�strongest� dream in the mansion draw her, to play guesswork with the identity
of the dreamer, to try and locate him or her in their dreams. It was fun,
and some of the maidservants dreamt vividly, particularly of their
childhoods.

Now
she crept along shadowy, sterilized gray corridors, as slowly and as carefully
as she could, avoiding even the faceless dream-people who occasionally passed
her. The dream world of this dreamer was tightly contained � most were �
and she sought him out, the faint spark of reality that earmarked the
dreamer.

Seras
sidled into a large, circular room, this one blindingly bright, through six
glaring eyes on a surgical lamp suspended above, that focused their merciless
illumination on a kneeling boy, naked and slender and no more than fifteen, on
white tiles stained with blood. Long tubes, wires and drips of various
thickness draped down from a glass container of some bubbling pale solution
from the ceiling, fastened into the skin of the boy�s back, arms, legs, chest,
his body shaved bald of hair. The dreamer was fastened in place by heavy
shackles fixed on iron supports to the tiles. A set of ancient data
consoles adored half of the wall of the room, green text on large green
screens, and there was a laboratory bench against the other, with a set of
metal implements and a gleaming array of scalpels and surgical saws.

The
boy�s back was a pattern of ugly, taut pink scars that looked poorly healed,
and suspiciously familiar.

Seras
began to feel faintly ill.

The
boy�s dull blue eyes stared fixedly ahead of him, at the shoes of two
scientists in stained white robes and gloves. A woman, pretty, her dark
hair tied in a severe bun, holding a clipboard, and a man, bulky and slowly
graying at the temples.

��
the drugs aren�t working?� the man was saying.

�We�ve
changed the dosage,� the woman replied, clipped and businesslike. �His
healing has accelerated, but it�s still limited. He can heal from cuts
and bruises, but not to the extent of a lack of scar tissue, and certainly not
to the requirements of the Project.�

�Imperfect.�
The man pursed his lips. �And he seems sedated? Is that a side effect?�

�No,
the side effect is violence. That boy�s barely human any longer.
Doubt he even hears us. He�s a little berserker out of medication, most
of the time. Hurt some of the nursing staff.�

�Most
of the time?�

�Outside
stimulus occasionally calms him. Yesterday Johnson � some new staff �
managed to calm him down for three hours with the introduction of outside
stimuli, for example.�

�Oh?�

�A
book of psalms. Curious, isn�t it? I didn�t know the boy could read.�

�He
is from one of the Vatican orphanages, Eles.� The man shrugged, walking
around the dreamer. �Limited regeneration, you say.�

�Perhaps
it would improve in time, with practice or with age, but it would always be
limited. Say if parts of him were decapitated, he�d be unable to regrow
or reattach them. If not for his broken mind, I would admit, the limited
regeneration could be useful.�

�Show
me.�

To
Seras� horror, the woman walked over to the surgical table in precise clicks of
her heels, and picked up a scalpel, then turned back to the boy, bringing the
blade up to his cheek.

�No!�
The word was out of Seras� mouth before she could stop herself, lunging forward
at the woman, her gloved hands clawed, only for a hand to catch her arm
tightly. Snarling, she whirled, with an angry glare, and then sagged as
she looked into Alucard�s unreadable eyes.

�Master?�

�Shh.
You�re trespassing, police girl, and not very quietly.� Alucard murmured,
watching intently, as the scalpel cut the boy�s cheek open to his teeth and the
bone of his jaw. Blood spurted onto white gloves and the white floor, and
the boy didn�t even flinch. The man watched intently as muscles and
tendons slowly knit, then flesh, then skin, then the wound became a taut, dull
pink scar.

�You�re
right, Eles. Project Anderson is a failure. But do not worry.
The Ninth recognizes the genius of your effort, and will give you a greater
grant for the regenerator project.�

�Thank
you, Father Aglione.� Eles smiled brightly, as though in relief, then she
paused, looking down at her bloodstained gloves in disgust. �The boy?�

�Will
be taken care of. I�ll turn him over to Iscariot. They�re still a
fledgling organization from the Ninth, and will keep our secrets. Perhaps
they can train something out of him. If he�s truly useless, they�ll
dispose of him. They�re only a bloodthirsty set of assassins, a limited
regenerator would be good enough for them.�

�The
filing? Simply noting �insanity� would likely prompt a probe, from the trustees
of the orphanage if nothing else.�

�Deemed
a failure because of a side-effect of the prototype drugs, which caused
the unfortunate result of �insanity�.� Aglione shrugged. �Very
regrettable, and so on. Various researchers will be fired. Life
will go on.�

Seras
felt her Master tug her inexorably away, to the gray corridor outside, and she
risked one backward glance at the boy. No response. No
change. What was left of her heart managed to twist.

�Poor
thing.�

�Hm.�
Alucard only seemed thoughtful, as though a curiosity had been satisfied.
But then, Seras knew, somewhat warily, he had been undead for far longer than
she. Perhaps someday, in the future, she too would be like him, utterly
inhuman, and she didn�t know whether to be horrified or relieved when that very
thought did not disturb her.

�Weren�t
you speaking with Integral-sama, Master?�

�She�s
still haranguing me for the innocent comment I made about the nun�s habit.�
Alucard shrugged. �So I sent part of my mind on your tail to see what you
were doing. How was the Vatican City?�

�Rather
eventful,� Seras said wryly. �What with the sniper, and then our decoy
plane blowing up. I�m rather surprised we got back to England safely,
Master. How was Romania?�

�It
amounted to some entertainment.� Alucard sighed. �Perhaps I should have
tarried and murdered all the assassins. They might have been
interesting.�

�Integral-sama
said that would have made trouble.�

�I
know.� Alucard yawned. �Or she would have told me to destroy them.
I did set some wolves on them, but I think at least half of them
survived. Ah� Sir Hellsing calls.� With that, Alucard abruptly faded.

Seras
calmed herself, closed her eyes, and pulled herself out of the dream, sitting
up somewhat self-consciously from her coffin and rubbing her eyes.
Suddenly, the cellar seemed claustrophobic.

She
walked out of the door, and squeaked when she nearly strode right into
Anderson, who watched her with red, narrowed eyes, his lips set thin.

�Ah�
er� sorry��

�Dinnae
do that again,� Anderson said shortly, and Seras� ingratiating smile froze on
her face. Of course he had noticed her.

�Hai�
hai, I�m sorry� sorry��

The
Paladin sniffed, and stalked past Seras to the stairwell, pausing at its foot,
and looked up, his back to her. �Ye tried t�stop her. Why?�

�Why?�
Seras repeated, frowning, unable to comprehend the question. �Why not?�

Anderson
made an odd, soft sound, like a curt laugh, twisted and harsh, and then he
straightened, and began to walk up the stairs.

II

Integral
ran out of words after she smoked the cigar to the stub, then she muttered,
irritably, �I am glad you came back, Alucard.�

�Oh?�
Alucard grinned, lounging in the guest chair. �Sentiment, my Lady
Hellsing?�

Integral
glowered at him, then turned back to the old book she had been flipping
through. �You�ve been the most constant fact of my life. You�ve
almost always been there. Unfortunately, it does seem as though I
have �missed� you.� Clipped, irritable, it was still a concession.
Alucard�s grin widened.

He
clasped long fingers before his nose, his gloves once again adorned with the
Hellsing limiter. The restriction sat uneasily on his shoulders again
after being free, but he welcomed it. He had to admit that, on some
level, he liked it, being able to control how much power he used on any
given opponent, always enough to make it somewhat challenging. The
ritual had been short and, on Integral�s insistence, neat, without any
�blooming pagan nonsense� of chanting or dire threats and promises.

Perhaps
Abraham was turning in his grave.

�I�m
surprised you knew how to use the Golgotha properly after all.�

�Bloody
idiot. Of course I knew.� Integral growled. �I�ve removed the
limiter on Seras.�

�Alex?�

Integral
smirked. �I have no clue what you did to him in Romania, but he
declined.�

Alucard
snorted. �As though the limiter works in preventing such matters.�

�No
details. And do allow the poor man his symbols. Heaven knows he
likes them.�

�None
given.� A wicked, evil chuckle. �I should take vacations more often.�

�Stupid
vampire. Romania was enough. Do you have any bleeding clue what a
diplomatic disaster you created, murdering the security at Bran Castle and
�redecorating�?�

�It�s
my property.�

�Property
laws have changed since you were last in residence. You haven�t been in
occupation for centuries. Ergo, the property is no longer yours.
Principle of adverse possession. Read it up.�

Alucard
reflected that Integral, as part of her Hellsing education, had had a brief
introduction to the murky and silly world of human laws, and, even more
strangely, seemed to assume that he was party to them. �No
matter. The maintenance done was fairly decent. So what now, my
Master?�

�Find
something useful in the books, then go to Africa.� Integral lit another cigar.
�Take Seras with you, leave Anderson with me.�

�Oh?�

�I
think he�s probably had quite enough of your company for a while.�

�Are
you sure that�s the reason, Lady Hellsing? Sentiment towards a Midian? How
distressingly feminine.�

�Bloody
idiot!� Integral snarled, but the banked violence in her eyes was grudgingly
hauled under control. �That�s not the only reason, naturally.
Anderson�s presence promises to be, in itself, a damned disaster. You�ll
be working in theory with members from the Ninth and previous members of
the Thirteenth, perhaps. Some of whom he�s apparently had a prior history
with, according to Father Mikaine Ganslein. Leave him here, take Seras.�

�Ah,
but my Master, Seras is stronger than Anderson, I would far rather leave her to
guard you,� Alucard said, as innocently as he could.

�You
like trouble too much,� Integral said sourly.

�No
one will do the chores. Good luck persuading Alex to perform any
housework.�

�I
can find temporary help. Especially since you won�t be here.�

�I
can assure you dear Alex is more than capable of frightening the help.�

�Strangely
enough he�s more reasonable than you, not that that is saying very much
at all.�

�The
Ninth is well aware of his existence.�

�Not
the Thirteenth, and I don�t want unnecessary problems. I want the matter
finished as efficiently as possible.�

�He
himself might want to go, if to keep down Vatican casualties.�

�He
can be reasonable, as I�ve said. I�m not so sure he wants to be the cause
of Vatican casualties, when they attack him for what he is now.� Integral
glared at Alucard. �Stop arguing, servant.�

�Just
exercising my mind.� Alucard said innocently, reaching down towards the shadows
in the carpet, his hand sinking briefly into the floor and, effortlessly,
hauling up a large, three-eyed black wolf by the scruff of its neck, which
yelped and pawed ineffectively at the air. �Giving Alex an informed
choice.�

�Ah.�
To her credit, Integral didn�t even blink. The wolf opened its
mouth. �It is still a no.�

The
third eye screwed close, as though it was about to shift shape, then the
creature stiffened in surprise, struggled briefly, and settled for glaring at
Alucard, who smirked, exerting his will, as Alex struggled with his wolf�s
throat, giving voice only to a series of barks and whines.

�Fledgling
vampires are so entertaining.�

�Can�t
he even speak telepathically yet?�

�Only
to me.� Alucard�s grin widened, as he heard an incoherent snarl of expletives
in his mind, and set the wolf down on the carpet, petting it mockingly on the
head and smirking as it caught his hand sharply in its mouth, but didn�t break
the skin. Since he now also wore the limiter, Anderson�s no longer repelled his
will. �Are you sure you want a fledgling as your guard?�

�I�m
not the one walking into fire,� Integral shrugged. �Do feel free to let
him change back, the barking is getting on my nerves.� The wolf shut up
quickly, albeit with a low, grudging growl.

�Merely
making a point, Lord Hellsing. There�s no danger of recognition with him
in this form, is there?�

The
wolf was suddenly silent, glancing up at Alucard, then shifted back to Alex the
moment Alucard loosed his grip, coughing for a moment, his jaw working, then he
looked over the desk. �Ah want t�go.�

�Vengeance?�

�Nay.
Closure. Ah dinnae get the chance when Ah was still livin�.�

The
answer seemed to startle Integral � she arched an eyebrow, thinking it
carefully over, smoking, then she sighed. �You wish to make peace with
Iscariot, or with your history?�

�Both.�

A
breath of scented smoke, then a grudging, �Don�t make trouble. And finish
the job.�

�Aye.�

�The
two of you will fly via private jet to Johannesburg within the week, whether you�ve
found anything in the damned books or not. It�s likely they�ll try to
attack Hellsing manor while we prepare, and we don�t really have the manpower
to defend without having to involve you, Alucard.�

�I
see no problem in that.�

Integral
smirked. �True. Let them tangle with Hellsing on our home ground to
their regret.�

III

�Did
ye just help me?� Anderson asked later, warily, when he was alone with Alucard,
the other vampire having tailed him to the makeshift library in the Cornwall
mansion.

It
was once a parlor, the books adorning its walls chosen for their stately,
formal leather-bound appearance rather than their contents � Anderson had noted
that almost all concerned the art and practice of fox-hunting. The books
taken from Alucard�s library had been stacked as neatly and as carefully as
possible on the tea table and on most of the couch, and as much as he bemoaned
the damage this would do to the fragile paper from exposure proper humidity
cabinets were yet to arrive.

�Don�t
attribute altruism to me, Judas Priest,� Alucard smirked. The vampire was
sprawled on the window-seat, though the thick blue velvet curtains over the
French windows overlooking the garden had been drawn shut. �Hn. I
don�t think I�ve engaged in carnal activity aboard a plane, before-�

Anderson
threw a bayonet sharply at Alucard, flushing. �Fucken pervert!�

The
vampire merely arrested the blade via moving a palm in front of his face and
allowing the blessed metal to pierce it, and then dragging it out and dumping
it on the carpet. �Just a thought.� A leer.

Annoyed,
Anderson tried his pointed best to ignore Alucard. They were only a
fraction through the books, and Seras was of no help whatsoever, being unable
to read Latin or anything more than colloquial English. Alucard expressed
no desire or interest in helping him, and Integral seemed too busy. As
such, to his irritation, upon their arrival back at Hellsing manor a day or so
ago Integral had promptly dropped the matter of sifting through the books into Anderson�s
lap.

He
wouldn�t have minded if there hadn�t been a bloody deadline.

�I
don�t know why you bother,� Alucard sounded bored, and indeed, seemed to have
gone boneless, catlike, on the window seat, somehow having folded his long
frame against the curtain and yet, irritatingly enough, without losing any
dignity. �All the methods involved are likely useful only by
humans. Vampires fight in different ways, and never commit their methods
to text.�

�An�
if she bests ye?�

�Why,
concerned?� An irritating purr.

�Proceedin�
on the assumption that yer nae use, seein� tha� she was so damnably powerful,
Ah think Ah�ll be lookin� fer some hints t�give the humans, all the same,�
Anderson retorted, with a smirk of his own that made Alucard frown in
irritation.

�I
wonder.� Alucard chuckled, lightly at first, then deepening, edged with
madness. �I wonder indeed!�

�So
if yer nae goin� t�help, why don�t ye take ae long walk off the short village
pier?�

�Getting
a little irritable, are we?� Smug bastard. �Sure you�re not out for
revenge, priest?�

�Ye�ll
like t�see that.� Knowing who on the Ninth was on his tail, knowing who
was seeking the papacy, made Anderson feel a coil of cold sickness in his gut,
but those were matters of the human world, now. None of his.
He existed now, he told himself, first to end the scourge rife in England, or
cripple it enough to contain it, then to destroy Alucard. Even in life,
he had little other purpose that didn�t involve bloodwork.

�I
confess myself surprised that you did not turn against your religion,� Alucard
said idly. �How long did you live in that laboratory, forsaken by your
God?�

�Dinnae
ken.� The days had been marked by pain, and he had long forgotten, drifting
between sedation and bouts of insane bloodlust. �An� Ah wasnae
forsaken. What happened t�me gave me the strength t�fight freaks like
ye. An� fer ae time, long enough, Ah could dwell in the House o� God.�

�You
truly believe that. Holy man.� Alucard made the title sound
disdainful. �I�ve seen the child you were, Alex. I�ve seen your
eyes. It was the laboratories that crafted your capacity to hate, not the
Midians.�

�Even
as ye saw me, Ah had never once turned away from God.�

�Why?�

�Faith.�
Anderson smiled, and for a moment, resembled Father Anderson, the gruff, yet
intensely spiritual priest at the orphanage, more than Paladin Anderson, the
bloodthirsty assassin, and he didn�t see Alucard blink. �Even if Ah can
nae longer touch salvation, Ah will still have faith.�

�Your
strength and your shield, priest?� Alucard mused. �But ultimately, I
think, your damnation.�

�Be
as that may.�

-tbc-
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Psalms for the Fallen