A New Reality

BY : Hemamal
Category: Hellsing > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 1230
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing and I make no money from it (that's Kouta Hirano) but I do own the plot and OCs.

Author’s Notes: For everyone new: Hello and welcome!!!

I know I promised this story a long time ago but truth be told, I had no idea where this story is going. To be even more honest, I still have no clue. I hope as the story progresses I’ll be able to see the shore in my sea of confusion. I have about half of the story planned out (up until Integra meets Alucard). The first three chapters are going to be insanely short as I am just getting back into writing. This is my first fanfiction ever. So be nice please! : )

A/N 2: I have no idea how the British give funerals or funerary ceremonies and I didn’t really want to research it for use in only one chapter. I also don’t know Arthur’s middle names so I just made them up.

Warning: This story does not follow either of the Hellsing plots, so wait to see where this goes before making suggestions. I’m a fan of enjambments and breaking for effect and I don’t have a beta..



On Black Wings

Chapter One


            No rain fell, though the sky was heavy enough. Its coal gray burden adding to the, already somber mood of the day. It seemed as though England itself was mourning the final fall of its unsung hero.

            The precession wound slowly along the paved road. Black flags wisped limply at half mass from car antennas. The hum of engine muted as though groaning in pain. No other sound, human or animal, pierced the air.

            The lead car, a stretch limo, crawled to a final stop. Somber figures approached each side to release three from their black glided prison. The first, a gangly figure, stood tall for all to see, whipping the imaginary creases from his high priced black suit. Greased hair pulled back and smoothed to a dull gleam. His face was placid, not from captive grief, but from something far more grim. The second figure emerged, dark graying hair pulled back in a neat pony tail, without flourish, his attention solely on the one who was the last to emerge.

            Lastly, a petite girl took the hand of the second figure. With poise, she slips silently from the car. Her naturally muted hair shone a gentle light in the dim day. She stands proud and strong, though anyone in close enough proximity could feel the grief radiating from her like a miasma. She allowed the gentleman at her side to place a hand on her back as they passed down the small embankment and the pathway to the grave site; the first man already far ahead of them on the path.


The minister droned on about the natural process of life and calling upon the Heavenly Father for strength and guidance for the family during this harsh time. The girl, now a young woman, heard nothing but the humming of silent air. Her focus only on the black box behind the robed man and the dead yet still brilliant red rose in her hand. Her fingers pressed against the already clipped thorns of the dead stem, anything to keep her focus. The chill in the air was nothing compared to what she felt as she approached the dark box. Within it, the empty coil she once called Father, Sir Arthur Wilson Gregory Hellsing.

 In truth, she saw no use for such ceremony. What was contained within the box was no longer the honorable man, or patient teacher, that was once the center of her world. She would not be the weak little girl who would breakdown and cry as these friends would want. She would be strong as her father last wished. She would be steel.

Integra Fairbrooks Wingates Hellsing placed the rose upon the clothed chest.



Please review. Feel free to give constructive feedback but no flaming. I will block you!!!!

You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story