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Romance In the Red Moon	By : AmandaJean Category: Hellsing > Crossovers Views: 1906 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or Trinity Blood, nor any character from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1

London was scorched and bathed in blood, wounds so badly carved into her remained blemishes on its once proud history. And old legacies were soon to be extinct.

The Hellsing Organization was one of them. And with it all of the horrors this single Organization, a weapon for the Queen, would be locked away and the horrors of the night would be left to the newer generations. Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, a noblewoman of the Protestant Knights and the last member of the Hellsing family saw to it. No child ever grew in her womb and no heir to her throne of steel and gunpowder and blood was chosen.

Hellsing was going to be nothing more than a mere blimp in history in the many generations to follow.

And locked away to be left as a whispered myth was the ace of the Hellsing family, a vampire so powerful he could bring cities crashing down and scorch the lands he walked with unspeakable pain and horror. A chaotic entity that needed a leash with a name that would not even be spoken come the years to pass.

His fledgling draculina who by the end of the war with Millennium was close to his power and no longer a mere fledgling would too fade from histories knowledge.

And like the good weapon he was set away in a special case just for him to slumber the years away.

And wait. Wait for what, he didn’t know and didn’t care much either.

And like the good person she was, she too was locked away to sleep the years away.

Hoping to be awake one day.

And so the years passed…

Armageddon…

The ultimate sin of humanity perpetrated on itself. Which cast a shroud of death across the world centuries ago…

And out of that lasting darkness. They emerged…

From the legends of ancient times they have been called forth into the world anew…

Vampires…

“Father! Are we even heading in the right direction?” A young girl, she was a historian who was a part of a small office that belonged to the Vatican. She was in charge with keeping up with historic facts and, despite how good they were they knew next to nothing about organizations ran during the Millennium war. The history books only spoke of Nazi’s, her Majesties soldiers and Vatican soldiers. It wasn’t even a paragraph long at this point, more might have been written a long time ago, but any other records would have been lost during the Armageddon era. It was a pity. Her escort into Albion was a tall platinum blond priest who never seemed to stop smiling, tripping and eating when he could. Though he had a deep sorrow in his eyes, and she was too much of a coward to even broach on the topic.

They were lost in a mansion that was practically falling apart around them.

“Even if we weren’t, I’m sure we’ll find our way out of this place.” The priest replied to her happily, she couldn’t help, but shake her head at him. Why was he always so optimistic? Though it was infectious she had to admit to herself. She looked at faded pictures she couldn’t depict now until they passed a mirror that seemed to fit the whole wall. It was cracked and from what she could see there was no wall behind it. A secret passage way! She touched it for a moment fearing she could shatter it easily due to the years that passed.

“Father Nightroad, check this out.” She finally said as she decided to take the chance and open it. She heard the hinges on it protested against being moved, she winced at that. She was going to break something that much she knew.

“A passageway leading downstairs? Odd. Who would have put the entrance here of all places?” Father Nightroad mumbled as he peered down behind her. She peered closer; it was so dark down there. And something sent chills down her spine. It was wrong, something felt terribly wrong, but her curiosity kept her from heeding everything.

“Ewww, it smells like something died down…” She started to say as she plugged her nose, not realizing how close she actually stood to the first step down. Shifting slightly in preparation to get away from the dreary looking place she ended up tripping and tumbled all the way to the bottom. She winced; her whole body was in pain. Those were a lot of steps to fall down. By the time she managed to sit up the priest was kneeling next to her.

“I’m okay…” She said before he could ask, she didn’t have to see him to know he had a worried expression on his kind face. Turning on her small pocket flashlight her father gave to her when she graduated school, he couldn’t afford anything else at the time.

“It’s empty…” She mumbled to her companion who has helped her into a standing position. She stopped and stared at him, he was completely serious. It was something she never saw in him since she met him.

~ Vampires ~ Methuselahs ~ Terrains ~

Abel wasn’t entirely sure of how things changed so much in one tumble down the stairs. At first he thought the chill he felt was because they were farther away from the sun and in a dark looking cellar. If it was a cellar at all? But the more he looked around him, the more it didn’t seem to fit. Being away from the sun wouldn’t cause this kind of chill to creep over his skin even with thick Priest clothing covering his body. Not to mention when he looked down Abel saw a thin layer of fog barely an inch off the ground.

The fog wasn’t natural; the place wasn’t moist enough to assist in creating fog.

“Miss Thomas, I really do think you should go upstairs now.” Abel ordered, he knew she wouldn’t recognize this tone he used. He’s never used it around her, and he felt her eyes on him in both curiosity as well as surprise. He followed the path of light her flashlight made. It landed on a boot.

“Wha…” Miss Thomas mumbled, not heeding what he just said as she directed her flashlight higher to show what looked like a corpse in a leather restraining suit of sorts and secured tightly to the wall behind it. Abel frowned at her lack of movement and felt slightly impatient with her. But he didn’t let that rule him, he hasn’t let emotions like that rule him for a long time now.

“Now would be nice Miss Thomas.” Abel insisted as he nudged her gently to get her moving and, despite the pain he knew she was in. She did. Good girl. He watched her go, when she was out of earshot he contacted Sister Kate.

“Yes?” Her voice echoed in his ear. He was glad at her quick response time when she’s contacted.

“Sister Kate, I really do think you should come to my destination in Albion. The old Hellsing Estate. Could you bring Professor Wordsworth with you?” Abel said as he took a few hesitant steps towards the corpse, not wanting to disturb anything. His eyes falling on a dark shape, a coffin, before turning back towards the corpse restrained in a rather uncomfortable restraining suite.

“Is everything all right Father Nightroad?” Kate’s voice asked. She didn’t have to be hovering with him for Abel to know a concerned look was on her face, she had a rather expressive voice.

“I don’t know to be sure.” Abel answered honestly, his voice calm as he simply stared at the corpse before turning his attention to look up the stairs at the young lady sitting on the top step waiting for him anxiously. She would have to be assigned someone else.

Sister Kate with her steadfast timing had the Professor there within two hours of nonstop flying at rather fast speeds.

Abel stood next to the Professor who took in the sites that Abel already looked at.

“Hmm, well I don’t know what this family was up to… But this is well, I don’t know what this is to be sure. I’ll have to have him transferred so we could take a better look..” Professor Wordsworth explained, it gone without saying that the rest of the building would be searched and studied. Abel took better notice then, what he confirmed to himself moments ago as a coffin. Walking over to it he casually looked it over. Not a scratch was on it, odd. The Professor noted out loud that it was a coffin.

Abel walked along it for a moment, a small cross near the top with an inscription carved elegantly into the black. Calmly he read out,

“The Birds of Hermes is My Name,

Eating My Wings to Make me Tame.”

“Now that’s an odd thing to write on a coffin. If I do recall correctly that is a verse of Ripley Scrowle’s. Back sometime during 1415 to about 1490, which is the lifespan of good old Riply. But to see it on a coffin. That must be quite old, do be careful with it boys. And with our guest.” Professor Wordsworth said as he followed the men with the coffin. Abel wondered how a coffin could remain in such pristine condition like that for so long. Not to mention he couldn’t take his eyes off the corpse that was gently pried off the wall.

There was something about that corpse that caught his attention, even caught the attention of the nanomachines coursing through his veins. Abel frowned.

~ Vampires ~ Methuselahs ~ Terrains ~

Back in Rome and safely tucked away in a laboratory the corpse as well as the coffin were left unattended momentarily. Lights were overhead illuminating every detail of every detail of everything within the room.

Professor Wordsworth was alone with it, and already he’s picked up on many different facts that could be catalogued and written down in his notebooks. Other artifacts from the Hellsing Estate was in another room altogether. Including well-preserved journals of three members of the Hellsing family. Almost like they knew that the books would need to be kept safe. Professor Wordsworth wondered what was so important in them that they felt needed to be preserved. He couldn’t wait to read them.

“Well by the looks of him, he was a handsome young man, perfectly sculpted. Odd though, how he could still have hair attached to his head and I’d say he’s practically mummified due to the well-kept appearance of the corpse leaving every detail he could have had in life intake.” Professor Wordsworth stated in a recording device hanging from the ceiling, it was easier for him then to carry it around all the time while tending to either one of his experiments or situations just like this one.

Moving over to the coffin momentarily while saying,

“By the looks of the coffin, it’s quite old. Well-built and sturdy. There’s soil lining the inside of the coffin, tests shown that the soil was from Romania. How come we found it in Albion then? I for one from the look of the Estate, they don’t strike me as collectors. And from searches done, there used to be a second coffin. A smaller one. Where did that go? Thieves? If they stole that one, why didn’t they steal this one?”

Looking at the table set near both slabs he noted the sunglasses and a rather intimidating weapon.

Walking over to the table Professor Wordsworth casually stated,

“Hellsing ARMS .454 Casull Auto… A very serious weapon if I do say so myself. A semi-automatic pistol about .39cm in length, shoots what tests show is custom-made steel bullets bearing a core made from melted silver linked to the Christian cross of Lancaster Cathedral. No wonder that cross seemed to disappear… Even Father Nightroad doesn’t carry a weapon like this and I know for a fact he could handle one.”

All of what he saw in this room showed him that this was an individual who no doubt was someone who used to do some rather horrible things in his time. It didn’t answer the question on why he was in the Hellsing Estate in the first part. He’s going to have to brush up on his history, and those journals to find out why.

It was then Abel chose to enter asking him,

“Have you found out anything interesting?” Professor Wordsworth looked up from the weapon to his trusted fellow priest and gave a smile as a greeting. A smile was returned to him with natural ease. It always surprised him on how easy it was for Abel to put on the masks that he does. He knows the sorrow in the tall friendly priest is there, but no one dares to utter anything about it or else Abel would close down on them and a wall would be put up. He will still be friendly, but it won’t be the same.

~ Vampires ~ Methuselahs ~ Terrains ~

Abel for the life of him couldn’t calm his nanomachines down any, and that was unusual. They didn’t even react this badly when Cain was around. Shaking that thought from his mind, he would be going down a dark path if he didn’t. So instead he eyed the Professor for a moment that was standing next to a table with sunglasses and a weapon that looked well-built and by some miracle looked like it had absolutely no hint of rust or any wear on it at all. It almost looked like it was new.

“Why yes, but it all shows that whoever owned this weapon isn’t an individual I would want to meet. It’s weird though, how this weapon doesn’t show any sign of the time that passed since its manufacture. It looks nearly new…” Professor Wordsworth explained to them, Abel turned to note that Caterina just arrived and scanned the room. Abel turned his attention back towards Professor Wordsworth, but found that it fell onto the corpse instead. It was laid out on the slab in what would appear to be a relaxed pose for the living.

Odd… What’s pulling me to that corpse? What’s drawing me to him? Abel thought as that chill he felt when he first entered that cellar seemed to run up his spin again. He fought off a shiver, he didn’t want to alarm anyone to his own odd behavior.

“Have you tested its blood?” Caterina asked almost icily, Abel was used to this tone. It was her professional tone. He’s heard her softer ones, her more caring tones. After all he’s known her since she was thirteen years old. He couldn’t believe how quickly time went by, and soon he would unfortunately have to watch her age and die of old age. He would make sure it was old age that claimed her and not anything else.

“Yes. But it’s not just one blood type, it’s many. I do believe we have ourselves a vampire of sorts. Not the kind we’re dealing with today though… But I can’t be sure, I’d have to do more testing.” Professor Wordsworth answered and Abel tore his attention away from the corpse and paid it back to Professor Wordsworth instead.

“A vampire!” Caterina snapped as she now turned her attention to the corpse who laid oblivious to the conversation in the same room as it. She seemed to zero in on the main part of the explanation. The fact that it was a vampire, or used to be. Though there was a chance that it wasn’t, but Abel doubted that.

It makes sense… It’s probably my nanomachines lust for vampiric blood. Abel thought with an odd sigh of relief.
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Romance In the Red Moon