Sweat | By : GoldAngelFish Category: Hellsing > General Views: 4753 -:- 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. |
~Hellsing
and all related characters belong to Kouta Hirano. Thou shalt not sue the
muse.~
(Something
very basic which separates humans from the undead, and yet something so often
overlooked. How does the scent of human sweat affect a vampire?)
She blinked, and her vision
cleared. The target came into focus, and she allowed herself the slightest hint
of a smile. One slight squeeze of her finger, and the gunshots echoed through
the hall. Holes appeared, as if by magic, in the paper target, marking the
center ‘X’ in the head. She counted the shots mentally, reciting them like a
mantra, and when she hit thirteen, clicked the clip release button. Her free
hand was instantly there, slamming a fresh clip into the gun. Racking the slide
in one smooth movement, she blinked again, clearing her vision.
The heavy wool she wore felt sticky, almost itchy,
and she glanced about, still firing into the hapless silhouette. The firing
range in the Hellsing basement was empty, all of the soldiers being out on
basic drills, and Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was alone. Walter was
upstairs, finally asleep, and Seras Victoria was away with the troops.
Alucard…well, it was impossible to keep track of him, but considering the
beautiful full moon Integra had seen before heading to the empty range, he was
probably out moon gazing. She glanced around again, her hand straying to her
tie. A few deft flicks of her fingers, and the gold cross was laid aside,
followed swiftly by the blue silk. Another flick of her finger opened a few
buttons, and damp golden skin was revealed. Pushing at strands of her platinum
hair, she focused her eyes again, blinking the beads of sweat from her eyes. It
was awfully hot in the firing range, and the heat from the gun was simply
making it worse. Being English, Integra was very accustomed to cold. It was the
heat that always unnerved her, making her irritable and edgy. She narrowed her
eyes, and fired seven shots in quick succession. Glancing at the target, she
allowed herself a smile, noting the cross now over the target’s heart.
“Releasing a bit of tension,
Master?” The voice came from the depths of shadow, directly behind the
mutilated paper. Integra’s hand almost moved for her discarded tie, then
clenched on the butt of her gun.
“Keeping my hand in, Alucard.” The
vampire’s flashing grin emerged, peering through the large central hole in the
target’s head.
“I see.” She casually reloaded the
gun, and Alucard smiled broadly as he slid fully from the shadows.
“Silver rounds now, Master? Am I to
become the target?” Integra’s cool blue eyes met the gleaming lenses of his
sunglasses.
“If you give me just cause,
monster.” He laughed, his boots making ringing noises off of the cement walls
as he walked out of the firing area. Shadows twisted beneath his blood-red
coat, winding about the grey suit as he stepped closer to his master, phasing
through the dividing counter.
“What would be just cause then,
Master?” Integra did not move away, tilting her head up to gaze at her monster.
“Coming three steps closer,” she
said quietly. Alucard laughed, orange sunglasses sliding down his aquiline
nose, revealing burning eyes.
“Very well then.” He moved,
silently now, two steps closer, and stopped. His hat brim shaded her face from
the overhead lights, and she saw his mouth twitch as her pupils dialated. There
was a moment of silence, and then she heard something one doesn’t expect around
vampires.
He inhaled.
Deeply, drawing lungfuls of air,
leaning over her to sniff rapidly at her hair. Integra nearly backed away in
surprise, but steeled herself, spine stiffening. Her eyes narrowed as she
looked up at him, a frown drawing her lips tight. When she looked at his face,
she admitted surprise to herself. His eyes were closed, and the vampire was
leaning closer, towering over her. He kept inhaling, tongue sliding out to lick
his lips. Integra finally gave in to her instincts and backed away a step. As
her foot was lifting for the second, his arm shot out, pinning her arms to her
sides.
“Alucard! Release me this instant!”
Her voice was sharp, commanding, and held no fear, such was she so carefully
schooled. It was instinct, pure and simple. She knew not to show him fear, for
that would trigger vampiric desires she had no wish to fight off tonight. His
arm was like iron, completely cold and without flexibility. The flesh did not
yield when she leaned her body away, and his grip tightened.
“No…” It was not speech, it was a
growl. She did not panic, mentally reminding herself over and over again not to
struggle. Such would imitate prey and only spur him further. Alucard leaned his
head down, Integra leaning away as he did so. She ended bent backwards over his
arm, pinned by his grip, with his face against her bared throat. The heat in
the room was becoming unbearable. She felt a trickle of sweat run down her jaw,
and heard Alucard’s sudden inhalation. Is that what has him so excited?
Integra blinked, then her jaw firmed.
“Alucard.” A grunt answered her,
and she felt the chill of undead flesh as his nose came in contact with her
throat. “Release me. Now.” He lifted his head, and when their eyes met, she
felt her blood run cold.
Those were not the crimson eyes she
knew, filled with mockery and wry humor. The look of grudging respect had fled,
replaced by plain lust. Although Integra did not have much experience with the
emotion of lust or subsequent actions, she understood the look when she saw it.
His hands tightened on her body, and she realized, with a slight flexing of
muscles, that escape had just become impossible.
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