Hellsing Note
folder
Death Note › Crossovers
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,527
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Death Note › Crossovers
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,527
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Hellsing or Death Note. I make no money off of this.
Mello Doesn't Want to Die
Author's Note: This is an answer to the following prompt on the Death Note Kink Meme: http://dn-kink.livejournal.com/634.html?thread=1900410#t1900410
***Hellsing Note***
***Chapter 1: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die***
“This is L,” the voice was the normal unemotional voice that he was used to. The man who had taken over the Hellsing organization at the age of twelve. L was a sugar addict and more than a little childish, but he did take his work seriously. “Tell me your status, Alucard!”
Only two people in the world knew what he really looked and sounded like; Watari, the old inventor who had raised L since he was young, when his father could not, and Alucard, the Hellsing pet vampire.
“Hmm,” Alucard was also a bit childish, despite his several hundred years, or maybe because of them. “Yeah, sorry. I was moon gazing.”
“”Keep it together, Alucard! You’re the only one we can count on!” L told him. He had no doubt that L was sitting in his odd crouched position in Hellsing manor while Watari went to rendezvous with the local authorities.
L was pretty pissed about this job. There had been no reports of vampires in England for the last two years, Hellsing had pretty much wiped them out. Alucard knew there were a few old ones still in England, but they pretty much kept to themselves and didn’t create armies of Ghouls. He wouldn’t have had any problems moving to England a hundred years ago if it wasn’t for Mina Harker and L’s ancestor, but that was past, and it was best to forget about it.
This vampire, though, was not one of the old ones, and the English vampires he knew, wouldn’t create a new dracul that they couldn’t control. So where had this vampire come from? The missing people reports started two weeks ago with a young boy from the village. Then two days ago the townspeople went to confront the village priest after a young boy had told them that he’d seen the priest with blood dripping from his mouth.
Still Hellsing hadn’t been called, not until half of the county’s police force had been turned into Ghouls. That was why it was Alucard’s job. Had it not been for the share number of ghouls this dracul was creating, then the regular Hellsing task force would have gone in and dealt with this vampire.
It was a beautiful night, though. The type of night that made him want to have a bite to drink.
~~~Hellsing Note: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die~~~
When he had signed up with the county police, he had expected some rude drivers and maybe a nice drug bust every so often.
He had not expected zombies.
He wasn’t a cop for the people, he could care less about the people. He was a cop for the mafia. The family that had taken him in when punks had killed his father and mother in cold blood before his eyes and then raped his dead mother’s body.
He shot behind his back, knowing that it was unlikely that he would hit anything, but feeling more accomplished for it. But he was running out of ammo and running out of time.
Mello heard the distinct click of an ammo-less gun and cursed, quickly dropping the clip and moving to grab a new one, only to be slammed into the ground. The village priest had unnatural red eyes and long pointed teeth, vampire. He wasn’t normally superstitious, but he knew of the legends surrounding creatures of the night. He was also a devout Catholic and moved his cross before before him.
He would pray, through a few “Hail, Mary”s into the mix, and generally hope that God was watching out for him. The cross was knocked from his hands and he saw it there, lying on the grass. The vampire lifted him up, “Guns won’t do a thing. A gun could never kill a vampire. And crosses aren’t the best defense, either.”
He breathed heavily, silently praying. “All your comrades now belong to me. And next it’s your turn,” indeed Mello could see his coworkers with the sharp teeth, but not the red eyes. They were the zombies he had been running from.
“All I want are devoted slaves. I won’t even make you a vampire with free will. There probably aren’t any virgins your age these days anyway,” the vampire said. Mello found himself highly insulted. He was saving himself for marriage. He was a good Catholic, even if he was a member of the mafia. He just looked the other way when it came to dirty work and prayed at night for his sins to be forgiven. “First I’ll rape you, then take my time draining you. In the end, you’ll be one of my ghouls.”
“God No!” Mello screamed.
“Hold it,” a voice said as another person joined the party. He was dressed all in red, a large red fedora, ankle length red duster with upturned collar, even red tented shades. His pants and boots were black, though, or some dark shade that looked black in the dark night. “I think you’ve had about enough fun.”
He came out of the shadows behind the vampire as if he had been made of those same shadows. The vampire turned around and looked over his shoulder at the new intruder. Mello couldn’t help but hope that God had answer his prayers, that maybe this person would save him.
“Youngsters these days, they’re so common. Whatever happened to moral values? Nothing more than the town punk,” the man said.
“Who are you, then? Some backwoods nit with bad timing?” the fake priest asked.
“My name’s Alucard,” the man in red introduced himself. “I’m an agent who takes out the trash for the secret service Hellsing. A hit man, for the likes of you.”
Hellsing organization? Mello had never heard of it, and that was rare. He was the adopted son of one the higher up lieutenants, he knew people that a country cop shouldn’t, yet he had never heard of this organization.
“Hit man, you say? Seriously? You? No Lie?” the priest began chuckling in disbelief. And then said, “Kill him.”
The zombies, ghouls, began emptying their weapons on the single man, shooting him full of holes. His arm fell off, half his face was ripped to shreds, and not just that, but rivers of blood flowed from the numerous chest shots that made him look like fine Swiss cheese.
“Spent already, hit man?” the priest said, laughing raucously.
But he wasn’t the only one laughing, and it was this that made the priest stop laughing. On the ground the man in red laughed like one of the deranged, “Guns won’t do a thing. A gun could never kill a vampire!” The pieces of his body were dissolving as he stood up, turning into blood that flowed towards him. He was a monster. The priest vampire was nothing compared to this vampire.
“That is,” he said, reaching into his coat and grasping the but of the largest hand gun that Mello had ever seen, and he had seen some big ones. This thing looked like it was made of silver and was about as long as his forearm, yet the vampire in red held it in one hand and aimed it for the ghouls.
Heads blew apart, chests explode, and limbs disappeared as the ghouls were killed by the bullets in this silver monstrosity.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” the priest yelled, using the same sentiment that Mello wanted to scream.
“Wh-why? Why do you...?” the priest couldn’t speak, fear gripping him for the first time since he was turned. “Why is a fellow vampire with the humans?”
“The problem with you little shits is that you go on these rampages whenever the urge hits you. If you keep playing this game, humans go extinct and we all die out, you shortsighted punk,” Alucard said. Well that made sense. “Besides it’s kind of complicated, but I can’t disobey the humans.”
He ejected the spent cartridge case allowing it to drop out of the bottom and onto the ground. “Thirteen millimeter explosive steel rounds, alloyed with silver melted from a Lanchester Cathedral Cross. There’s no freak around who can eat these and come back for seconds.”
Thirteen millimeter explosive silver rounds? Mello felt his eyes widen, that would kill anything, not just a vampire. He had been shooting nine millimeter slugs at these ghouls. Looking closer he could now tell that it was a heavily modified .454 Casull. Someone had probably bored out the barrel and had to cast those cartridges by hand.
“DIE!” Alucard said, leveling his reloaded gun at the priest.
The priest grabbed him around the waist, pulling him close as a human shield, a hostage. “Quite enough, hit man! Not another step! She’s the only survivor! Don’t you want her to live? Why all the fuss, just let me go! Just pretend I got away!” the priest was talking fast, sweating bullets. He was disgusting.
“Hey guy, you a virgin?” Mello turned red. He knew he did.
“Wha...What’re you goin’ on about now?” the vampire priest asked.
“I asked if you’re a virgin, blondie. Answer me.”
“Bastard! Enough of this crap!”
“Answer me!”
“Yes!” Mello cried out, shutting his eyes in shame. Yes, he was a virgin, did it matter anymore, why was this vampire so insistent.
His eyes snapped over as he felt his chest explode. He had been shot by one of those freakishly large high powered bullets. He had the though, as he fell to the ground, knowing he was going to die tonight, that it was a wonder that the gun didn’t explode in the red vampire’s hand.
“Bloody hell?!” the priest screamed. He had been shot through, too?
Alucard rushed forward pulling his empty hand back and thrusting it straight through the vampire priest’s chest, crushing the heart and turning the priest into blood and dust that would never grow back together.
“I shot through your lung to hit his heart,” Alucard said, approaching Mello who lay on his back in the ground. “Sorry, this gun leaves a big hole. You don’t have long.”
Mello wondered what he was going on about until he smirked and asked, “What will you do?”
Then it clicked, the priest had been going on about raping him to make sure he wasn’t a virgin. This vampire had been insistent on knowing he was a virgin. A vampiric legend that he knew said that vampires could only turn virgins.
“I don’t want to die,” he whispered. The vampire smiled and leaned down, lifting him up. It was a sharp pain in his neck and as he fell unconscious he thought, ‘Dear god, what have I done?’
~~~Hellsing Note: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die~~~
Alucard walked to where Watari should be, carrying his newly created vampire. This blond had spunk, a mafia raised child. He was rather eager to find out what kind of vampire a Catholic made when changed like this rather than like he was.
He only hoped that L would let him keep the young vampire.
~~~Hellsing Note: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die~~~
Note: .454 Casulls are real guns. They’re modified .45 Colts with longer cartridges. Alucard’s 13 mm rounds wouldn’t work in a normal Casull (which is metrically equivalent to 11.53 mm). In other words, the barrel had to be bored out and new cartridges made.
***Hellsing Note***
***Chapter 1: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die***
“This is L,” the voice was the normal unemotional voice that he was used to. The man who had taken over the Hellsing organization at the age of twelve. L was a sugar addict and more than a little childish, but he did take his work seriously. “Tell me your status, Alucard!”
Only two people in the world knew what he really looked and sounded like; Watari, the old inventor who had raised L since he was young, when his father could not, and Alucard, the Hellsing pet vampire.
“Hmm,” Alucard was also a bit childish, despite his several hundred years, or maybe because of them. “Yeah, sorry. I was moon gazing.”
“”Keep it together, Alucard! You’re the only one we can count on!” L told him. He had no doubt that L was sitting in his odd crouched position in Hellsing manor while Watari went to rendezvous with the local authorities.
L was pretty pissed about this job. There had been no reports of vampires in England for the last two years, Hellsing had pretty much wiped them out. Alucard knew there were a few old ones still in England, but they pretty much kept to themselves and didn’t create armies of Ghouls. He wouldn’t have had any problems moving to England a hundred years ago if it wasn’t for Mina Harker and L’s ancestor, but that was past, and it was best to forget about it.
This vampire, though, was not one of the old ones, and the English vampires he knew, wouldn’t create a new dracul that they couldn’t control. So where had this vampire come from? The missing people reports started two weeks ago with a young boy from the village. Then two days ago the townspeople went to confront the village priest after a young boy had told them that he’d seen the priest with blood dripping from his mouth.
Still Hellsing hadn’t been called, not until half of the county’s police force had been turned into Ghouls. That was why it was Alucard’s job. Had it not been for the share number of ghouls this dracul was creating, then the regular Hellsing task force would have gone in and dealt with this vampire.
It was a beautiful night, though. The type of night that made him want to have a bite to drink.
~~~Hellsing Note: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die~~~
When he had signed up with the county police, he had expected some rude drivers and maybe a nice drug bust every so often.
He had not expected zombies.
He wasn’t a cop for the people, he could care less about the people. He was a cop for the mafia. The family that had taken him in when punks had killed his father and mother in cold blood before his eyes and then raped his dead mother’s body.
He shot behind his back, knowing that it was unlikely that he would hit anything, but feeling more accomplished for it. But he was running out of ammo and running out of time.
Mello heard the distinct click of an ammo-less gun and cursed, quickly dropping the clip and moving to grab a new one, only to be slammed into the ground. The village priest had unnatural red eyes and long pointed teeth, vampire. He wasn’t normally superstitious, but he knew of the legends surrounding creatures of the night. He was also a devout Catholic and moved his cross before before him.
He would pray, through a few “Hail, Mary”s into the mix, and generally hope that God was watching out for him. The cross was knocked from his hands and he saw it there, lying on the grass. The vampire lifted him up, “Guns won’t do a thing. A gun could never kill a vampire. And crosses aren’t the best defense, either.”
He breathed heavily, silently praying. “All your comrades now belong to me. And next it’s your turn,” indeed Mello could see his coworkers with the sharp teeth, but not the red eyes. They were the zombies he had been running from.
“All I want are devoted slaves. I won’t even make you a vampire with free will. There probably aren’t any virgins your age these days anyway,” the vampire said. Mello found himself highly insulted. He was saving himself for marriage. He was a good Catholic, even if he was a member of the mafia. He just looked the other way when it came to dirty work and prayed at night for his sins to be forgiven. “First I’ll rape you, then take my time draining you. In the end, you’ll be one of my ghouls.”
“God No!” Mello screamed.
“Hold it,” a voice said as another person joined the party. He was dressed all in red, a large red fedora, ankle length red duster with upturned collar, even red tented shades. His pants and boots were black, though, or some dark shade that looked black in the dark night. “I think you’ve had about enough fun.”
He came out of the shadows behind the vampire as if he had been made of those same shadows. The vampire turned around and looked over his shoulder at the new intruder. Mello couldn’t help but hope that God had answer his prayers, that maybe this person would save him.
“Youngsters these days, they’re so common. Whatever happened to moral values? Nothing more than the town punk,” the man said.
“Who are you, then? Some backwoods nit with bad timing?” the fake priest asked.
“My name’s Alucard,” the man in red introduced himself. “I’m an agent who takes out the trash for the secret service Hellsing. A hit man, for the likes of you.”
Hellsing organization? Mello had never heard of it, and that was rare. He was the adopted son of one the higher up lieutenants, he knew people that a country cop shouldn’t, yet he had never heard of this organization.
“Hit man, you say? Seriously? You? No Lie?” the priest began chuckling in disbelief. And then said, “Kill him.”
The zombies, ghouls, began emptying their weapons on the single man, shooting him full of holes. His arm fell off, half his face was ripped to shreds, and not just that, but rivers of blood flowed from the numerous chest shots that made him look like fine Swiss cheese.
“Spent already, hit man?” the priest said, laughing raucously.
But he wasn’t the only one laughing, and it was this that made the priest stop laughing. On the ground the man in red laughed like one of the deranged, “Guns won’t do a thing. A gun could never kill a vampire!” The pieces of his body were dissolving as he stood up, turning into blood that flowed towards him. He was a monster. The priest vampire was nothing compared to this vampire.
“That is,” he said, reaching into his coat and grasping the but of the largest hand gun that Mello had ever seen, and he had seen some big ones. This thing looked like it was made of silver and was about as long as his forearm, yet the vampire in red held it in one hand and aimed it for the ghouls.
Heads blew apart, chests explode, and limbs disappeared as the ghouls were killed by the bullets in this silver monstrosity.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” the priest yelled, using the same sentiment that Mello wanted to scream.
“Wh-why? Why do you...?” the priest couldn’t speak, fear gripping him for the first time since he was turned. “Why is a fellow vampire with the humans?”
“The problem with you little shits is that you go on these rampages whenever the urge hits you. If you keep playing this game, humans go extinct and we all die out, you shortsighted punk,” Alucard said. Well that made sense. “Besides it’s kind of complicated, but I can’t disobey the humans.”
He ejected the spent cartridge case allowing it to drop out of the bottom and onto the ground. “Thirteen millimeter explosive steel rounds, alloyed with silver melted from a Lanchester Cathedral Cross. There’s no freak around who can eat these and come back for seconds.”
Thirteen millimeter explosive silver rounds? Mello felt his eyes widen, that would kill anything, not just a vampire. He had been shooting nine millimeter slugs at these ghouls. Looking closer he could now tell that it was a heavily modified .454 Casull. Someone had probably bored out the barrel and had to cast those cartridges by hand.
“DIE!” Alucard said, leveling his reloaded gun at the priest.
The priest grabbed him around the waist, pulling him close as a human shield, a hostage. “Quite enough, hit man! Not another step! She’s the only survivor! Don’t you want her to live? Why all the fuss, just let me go! Just pretend I got away!” the priest was talking fast, sweating bullets. He was disgusting.
“Hey guy, you a virgin?” Mello turned red. He knew he did.
“Wha...What’re you goin’ on about now?” the vampire priest asked.
“I asked if you’re a virgin, blondie. Answer me.”
“Bastard! Enough of this crap!”
“Answer me!”
“Yes!” Mello cried out, shutting his eyes in shame. Yes, he was a virgin, did it matter anymore, why was this vampire so insistent.
His eyes snapped over as he felt his chest explode. He had been shot by one of those freakishly large high powered bullets. He had the though, as he fell to the ground, knowing he was going to die tonight, that it was a wonder that the gun didn’t explode in the red vampire’s hand.
“Bloody hell?!” the priest screamed. He had been shot through, too?
Alucard rushed forward pulling his empty hand back and thrusting it straight through the vampire priest’s chest, crushing the heart and turning the priest into blood and dust that would never grow back together.
“I shot through your lung to hit his heart,” Alucard said, approaching Mello who lay on his back in the ground. “Sorry, this gun leaves a big hole. You don’t have long.”
Mello wondered what he was going on about until he smirked and asked, “What will you do?”
Then it clicked, the priest had been going on about raping him to make sure he wasn’t a virgin. This vampire had been insistent on knowing he was a virgin. A vampiric legend that he knew said that vampires could only turn virgins.
“I don’t want to die,” he whispered. The vampire smiled and leaned down, lifting him up. It was a sharp pain in his neck and as he fell unconscious he thought, ‘Dear god, what have I done?’
~~~Hellsing Note: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die~~~
Alucard walked to where Watari should be, carrying his newly created vampire. This blond had spunk, a mafia raised child. He was rather eager to find out what kind of vampire a Catholic made when changed like this rather than like he was.
He only hoped that L would let him keep the young vampire.
~~~Hellsing Note: Mello Doesn’t Want to Die~~~
Note: .454 Casulls are real guns. They’re modified .45 Colts with longer cartridges. Alucard’s 13 mm rounds wouldn’t work in a normal Casull (which is metrically equivalent to 11.53 mm). In other words, the barrel had to be bored out and new cartridges made.