The Vampire of the Opera

BY : Gypsy _Reaper
Category: Hellsing > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 1667
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or Phantom of the Opera, nor make money off this fic or the characters in it.

Chapter Three: "Day Job"

"Christine, I love you!" he sang, the very chords shaking her to the core.

The young opera singer would not allow herself to be swayed by the beautiful baritone voice. Not anymore.

"The tears I might have shed for your dark fate, grow cold and turn to tears of hate!" she sang to the Phantom, who held the rope that with a tug would hang her true lover, Raoul.

"I grow tired of these games," the Phantom said with a tug, causing Raoul to gag for a moment. "Make your choice!"

Christine stepped into the watery pool, the water warm around her legs, and she walked towards the Phantom. Under the fine suit, the cloak, and the white mask covering half his face, his undead heart felt like it was tearing in two.

"Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you know? God give me courage to show you you're not alone," Christine sang, closing the last few feet between them, and kissed the Phantom.

For so long he had dreamed of that moment, her soft body, smooth lips against his own. He became passionate, ignoring everything, even the hand that reached behind her back for something....

STAB! He stumbled backwards, looking down at the wooden stake protruding from his chest. Blood was already spreading from the wound. He looked up at her, who was now untangling her lover from his bonds.

"Christine....?" he asked quietly, stunned, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He looked back up at her, waiting to see her smiling, saying it was just a joke, of course she loved him, of course she chose him....

Falling to his knees in the water, which was now gaining a red tint, the Phantom watched his whole world, Christine Daae, sailing away in the arms of another lover. "Christine...." he moaned, his vision becoming redder as bloody tears dripped down his face. The betrayal hurt so much more than the wood in his heart, a few strangling sobs escaping him before the vampire's form lay still in the pool.


Anderson jerked awake a few moments later, accidentally falling asleep on the helicopter to his "job". He shook his head a few times to clear the sleep from his mind...and the tears trying to drip from his eyes. That had been a real tearjerker dream, but why did he have to have such strange ones? And why was he even shedding tears for a vampire? Not even remotely qualified to understand or pretend to understand dreams, the Paladin simply wiped away the tears and got himself into the killing mindset.

The pilots stopped over a thick forest, and Anderson made the usual arrangements with them. He had 12 hours to do his job and be back here for the ride home. "Don' be late," they told him. He winked at them before jumping out of the chopper a good twenty feet over the ground. He landed and rolled a few feet before jumping up and disappearing into the forest. The chopper flew off, and all returned to quiet daytime. It was early morning, the sun's rays bright with promise for the day. The perfect time to go vampire hunting.

Anderson moved quickly, his long legs making short work of the miles to the old warehouse were the "den" was. If someone had seen him, his fatherhood was shown clearly. Black boots thudded through the underbrush. Gray trousers and jacket allowed him to blend in at dusk, but his priest's collar could be seen, as well as the cross hanging over his chest. His overcoat was gray as well, with a purple trim, and it quietly flapped behind him. The spark of blood lust was in his jade eyes. At home, he was caring and cheerful. On the battlefield, however, he reveled in blood and death.

A few hours later, he had to pass through a small town to get to the warehouse, and he earned more than a few curious but respected bows for the cross he wore. "Good day, Father," a woman said as she walked by, and he returned her friendly smile. "Go with God, chil'," he said politely.

It was midday when the vegetation-covered warehouse came into view. Boards and planks were falling off or hanging from a nail or two. Anderson, with a smile that could shame the Cheshire Cat, pulled out two of his blessed bayonets, and broke down the poor excuse for a door. "Ah jist let meself in."

The warehouse was a single open room, and in the furthest corner where perhaps a dozen coffins, their occupants unaware of the danger just across the room. The room was dark, no lights or windows anywhere, but Anderson could smell the death and decay in the room. He wasn't startled when the growls started, or when dozens of glowing purple eyes turned to his direction. Ghouls filled the room, a few dozen, maybe more. The poor remnants of deflowered humans who had been bitten by the vampires became ghouls, slaves no better than zombies. Anderson simply smiled when the horde turned to him. He struck the swords together, the sparks from the grinding metal lighting up his maniacal smile of blood lust. "In th' name of the Father, the Son, an' the Holy Ghost," he said as he cut down the first ghoul. "Ahmen!"


When the helicopter returned a little past sunset, Anderson was sitting on a stump of a tree, clothes a little worse for wear but otherwise unharmed. Well, any injuries he might have sustained had already healed. The helicopter landed, kicking up all sorts of leaves, dirt and other debris, making Alex raise his arms to shield his eyes, so when the figure leapt from a tree onto his back, he was caught off-guard.

The vampire had somehow survived the agent's slaughter and wanted revenge. His long claws dug into Alex's back, his arms, everywhere as he tried to bite the man's neck. Alex swung around like a bull, cursing and roaring, trying to get the monster off of him. With a final snarl, he reached up, grabbed the vampire's shirt collar, and hauled him over his head onto the nearby tree stump. SNAP! The vampire screeched as his spine broke like a twig. Alex quickly sliced it's head off with his sword, but he couldn't stop his pounding heart. That had been too close.

The pilots took off as soon as one of his feet hit the floor. He didn't mind the quick jump he had to do; if he didn't do this for a living, he'd probably be scared out of his mind right then as well. Kissing the cross around his neck, he fantasized about the warm shower waiting for him back and headquarters.

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