Damn e-mailer...

Again...

Set in the "Pulp Hellsing" timeline _not_ in the "Dances
Set To The Music Of Time" timeline.

*************************************************

            DANCES SET TO THE MUSIC OF TIME
                       An Epic History of Humanity
                          From The Age of Silver
                           To The Age of Crystal
                                 And Beyond

         http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html

                 Other fanfiction by the same author:
          http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html

                  Kindly archived by Larry F and
                   The Lost Library of Florestica:
                    http://rakhal.com/florestica/
*************************************************




-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: hellp.txt

**********************************************************************

    Disclaimer:

    Hellsing is owned by Hirano Kouta. All licenses belong to the proper
people. This is used without permission.

    The Shadow was created by Walter Gibson. All licenses and rights
belong to the proper people. This is used without permission.

    This disclaimer also applies to several intellectual properties
referred to in the text. Please be guided accordingly.

    This file can be freely distributed so long as it appears in its
complete form and proper credit given. No part may be reproduced for
monetary gain without permission from the author.

**********************************************************************

    
    Chapter 1 Encounters

    Ceres Victoria was a vampire.

    She was faster, stronger, tougher than most human beings. She has
had a hole blown through her lungs, stabbed in the throat, punctured in
the stomach and sundry other things that would normally result in her
dying. Her powers, which were slowly emerging, would make any sane man
kill himself before she got their hands on them.

    "And that's the bloody reason why I always get to be point," she
muttered under her breath as she peered into the gloom. It was something
of a tradition already. She happened to be the most experienced active
agent that Hellsing had, mostly because she survived where other
Hellsing operatives died, thus whenever she joined a deployment, she
would inevitably be appointed as pointman.

    She couldn't argue against that. Better her soaking up the damage
than the mortals. Add the fact that she didn't need any of the bulky
equipment that normal Helsing troops needed to operate in the dark, her
natural equipment actually being better than the standard issue, she was
the logical choice for point.

    "Doesn't mean I have to like it," she muttered again under breath.
Raising her hand, she gestured the all-clear. No ghouls. Yet. She could
smell the iron tang of blood and death. They were here somewhere. She
tightened her one-handed grip on the heavy assault rifle that was
standard issue for a clean-up. She preferred the Halconnen, but that was
overkill for something like this.

    As her squad poured in to secure the room, she moved on. A sniff of
the air had given her a potpourri of scents to untangle underneath the
heavier ones. Sweat, tears, excreta...something else. Something was not
right. A wrong scent. Unnatural...

    It had been confirmed before they entered that there was a FREAK
vampire inside. The place should be crawling with ghouls by now. FREAKs
weren't big on tactics. They just killed and killed until you kill them.

    Now, it was the second floor and they still hadn't found anything. A
multitude of scents permeated everything so that she was unable to
single out anything for tracking.

    The dilapidated floor boards made no sound as she stepped on them.
They would have at least creaked if she had been human or at least if
she had come here a few months earlier. She had become lighter on her
feet as time past. Pretty soon she'd walk soundless, like a ghost.
Scanning the shadowy darkness with her red eyes, her vision pierced like
a searchlight through the stygian gloom.

    The squad was back on her tail as the creaking floorboards several
meters back suggested. Normally, point would be closer. But she was a
vampire and she could handle anything for the few seconds that it would
take for the squad to catch up to her location. She was about to turn
the corner when she felt it.

    The sharp tingle went up her spine and she raised her gun as she
threw her back to the wall. She hesitated as she felt the cold muzzle of
a large gun touch her forehead. Red eyes peered from the shadows.

    "Mas-"

    This was not her Master. The gun touching her forehead was not her
Master's Jackal. Instead of her master's red, the vampire before her was
dressed in black. The creature before her was swathed in the night's
cloth, the leather gloved hand shining dully to her sight. The gun,
though not the Jackal, was close enough that it could have been its
cousin. A hawkish profile peeked out from beneath a slouch hat, the red
vampire eyes burning with power. A power she had seen before and saw
every time she looked into her Master's eyes.

    This wasn't a FREAK. This was something much better and much worse.

    A No-Life King. Vampire royalty filled with eldritch powers she
could not hope to match.

    She did not pull the trigger. She could not pull the trigger. It
would be stupid to pull the trigger, so she didn't pull the trigger.

    The being spoke in clipped phrases as he stared into her eyes.

    "You are in danger. Get out now. Tell your team to evacuate. I will
give you thirty seconds."

    The voice was a harsh whisper. She could not see the vampire's mouth
as it was behind the collar of the dark cloak. The gun retreated into
the dark. An eyeblink and the being before her had become a part of the
darkness, invisible even to her sight.

    A moment passed. Awe had overcome her. Then she remembered.

    Five seconds.

    "Hell."

    "GET OUT! GET OUT! THIS IS POINT, EVERYONE OUT! NOW!"

    Hellsing rule of survival number three: when the vampire screams and
runs like hell trying to get out, you get out.

    Ten seconds

    Commander Edmund Makepeace winced, his stone-faced features
cracking, as he heard his point declare an evacuation of the building.
He could hear the pounding of boots against wood.

    Running his hand through thinning salt-and-pepper hair, he looked up
the building's facade.

    What in God's name is she doing?!

    Fifteen seconds.

    Ceres took the stairs eight at a time. Questions ran through her
head as she ran. Who was that? How did he do that? What the hell is
going on?!

    Twenty seconds.

    Hissing in anger, the creature stretched its body taut. The prey was
so close. It had felt the power of its blood, as it was promised. What
had made it go back? A double row of fangs erupted in its gaping maw as
it prepared to move.

    "Sssii thu nhon venerisss adh meh, egho vheniam adh teh," it said in
tortured Latin as gangly limbs began to tread the wooden boards.

    Twenty five seconds.

    Not even breathing hard, since she didn't need to breathe, Ceres
Victoria skid to halt in front of her commanding officer.

    Lieutenant Makepeace scowled down at her. "You better have a bloody
good excuse for this, Sergeant."

    Thirty seconds.

    "I think I do, sir."

    "Friggin' 'ell!"

    Lieutenant Makepeace and Ceres Victoria both turned to look at what
caused the shout.

    The building was disappearing. Shadows lapped up sides of the
plaster walls, like waves of a dark sea. Writhing tendrils reached up
and about as the building was devoured by the stygian assault.
Surprisingly enough, what the shadow had passed became nothing. They
could see clear through to the other side of the building. From the
ground up, the domicile disappeared into nothingness.

    "That, Sergeant, is a pretty good excuse." Lieutenant Makepeace said
with grudging respect and he returned his gaze to the blonde vampire
before him. Her gaze still rested where the building had stood.
Makepeace arched an eyebrow at his subordinate's reactions.

    Ceres was looking at the vacant lot that used to be the target. Then
she looked up.

    As if the building was still there, unseen.

    "It's not over yet, sir. Tell the men to take cover."

    Makepeace blinked owlishly. But she didn't have to tell him twice.
He felt it himself. Something major was going on. He ordered the troops
to cover, while he himself took a spot behind the APC. Ceres had gone
inside for something and when she stepped out he knew they were in deep
trouble.

    One hundred eighty centimeters of blue-gray metal were in her hands
as she stepped. Breaking away the barrel, she loaded in a shell the size
of her forearm. With a clack, the barrel returned into place. The
Halconnen was taller than the petite vampire but she carried it with
ease. A single round from that thing could blow an armored tank sky-
high.

    "You think you'd be needing that?"

    "I hope to God not."

    The creature paused, hissing. Back arching like a cat, it had felt
the shadows swallow its current nest. Swinging its draconian head,
sapphire-blue eyes searched for the threat. It was in one of the top
floor rooms, windows that moments earlier looked out on to the street
and had let faint moonlight in, were now black as the abyss. The shadows
had swallowed its place and even its preternatural senses were having
difficulty piercing the eldritch gloom.

    "Hic ego te pugnamus, demonio nocturno."

    The whisper, almost inaudible to human ears but quite clear to the
inhuman entity, sounded like gravel being poured on concrete. The laugh
that followed that pronouncement grated the ears with a subsonic
shudder, a cacophonous aural assault to the creature's senses.

    "Dohminusss Umhbrah." The creature spat out the words, hate filling
its voice as it warily drew back and surveyed its surroundings once
again. Claws slid out of their fleshy sheaths in preparation for battle.

    An explosive cannonade erupted from the darkness. As if by great
invisible hands, holes were torn into the creature's hide. Gouts of
flame tongued from a pair of guns, their flashes of momentary light
revealing a being clothed in black.

    Screeching as the wounds on its body healed, the demonic thing
surged forward, claws gouging the air with deadly swipes. The guns still
boomed, though their wielder had not stayed stationary. Moving like
smoke, the being in black danced around the wide swings.

    The being in black and the creature had moved in close to each
other. A deadly dance of glittering claws and jet black metal punctuated
by scarlet tongues of fire. A whirl, a dodge; razor sharp slices seconds
too late and lead meeting flesh at high-velocity speeds.

    Duck, bend and an impossible somersault. A morbid waltz set to the
tune of smoke and flame; silver-jacketed slugs drawing forth demonic
screams from a living instrument; a metal and fire symphony accompanied
by the snicker-snack of grasping claws and the rasping, saliva-filled
imprecations of the filthy abomination.

    Suddenly, the two separated. Glaring eyes judged, azure eyes meeting
scarlet, as they regarded each other. The freakish creature had for its
troubles a piece of torn cloth and horrendous wounds that were, against
all natural law, starting to close. The being in black was unscathed,
standing tall in front of one shadow-darkened window.

    The creature started to laugh, a horrible braying sound that grated
on the ears. It was a thing of clicks and scratches with a tongue
slavering along as accompaniment. The thing drew a raggedy breath, as if
gathering spit, then spat out several pieces of shining metal.

    "Argenthum. Pah!!" The dismissal was couched in the sardonic tone of
disdain and disgust. Slowly, the thing smiled.

    "Mei occasssio, Dohminush Umbrah!"

    It let out a shrieking howl and suddenly the darkness around the two
figures rattled, skittered and scratched as red eyes opened. The tall
shadow inclined its head as it slipped both guns into its dark attire.
Strange amusement burned in the scarlet eyes.

    "Nisi argentum, lamia, ergo ignis."

    "Quid?!"

    With a flick of the wrist, one of the gloved hands produced a small
rectangular box with a blinking red button. The shadows that had encased
the window behind the dark figure retreated to show the London skyline.

    "NOOON!!"

    Aim up, little Ceres.

    The thought slid into her mind like a snake. Her telepathic link
with her Master quivered at the urgentness of the order.

    She aimed up, with a little smile on her lips. At least he calls me
by my name now and the thought warmed her dead heart a little like a
bottle of fresh blood.

    She felt it before it happened. The shadows that had earlier
encompassed the building returned. It was a spot where one of the sixth
floor windows should have been and the shadows pulled away like
magician's cloth, revealing the glass and wood of the aperture.

    There was the sound of shattering glass and a black shape exploded
outwards with shards of wood and glass. Looking up in the night sky as
the figure opened its arms, Ceres was given the impression that she was
looking at a giant bat with red eyes boring into her soul. A chilling
laugh accompanied the sight, a mind-stopping cacophony of mirth that
made her mortal companions gape in awe at the scene. She was viewing all
of it in slow motion, vampire super-adrenalin coursing through undead
veins.

    She unconsciously tugged at the trigger.

    NOT YET!

    Her trigger finger stopped, held by an unstoppable force.

    A split second later the building, now released from its shadowy
embrace, which the dark inhuman missile had earlier left exploded into
an incendiary apocalypse.

    She could see it blow for blow. Each shard of glass, wood and brick
falling like new snow. The bat-like creature cresting the explosive
blast, tucking into a slow-motion somersault. The figure was halfway
down the ground when something followed it from the shattered window.

    She could not describe it. The only impression she could get was
something inhuman with gangly limbs and eyes of blue. Unlike the
preceding departure, it was a graceless missile, screaming hate, pain
and fury.

    Now.

    Her finger pulled the trigger and the HEAT round slammed into the
thing like a freight train.

    "Very good, little Ceres." The voice jolted her from the adrenalin
rush. Everything returned to normal speed. She turned around and almost
bumped into her Master's chest.

    Her Master looked down at her with his razor-blade smile as he
patted her on the head. Ceres would have found it patronizing if it
weren't her Master doing it. It made her feel warm and loved, though it
could have just been the flaming building behind her.

    "The shadow lord would like to thank you. But he's already left the
vicinity."

    "The... you mean you know who that was?" Ceres gaped and turned
around. There was no trace of the shadowy figure that had landed on the
street.

    Her Master was letting a vampire get away. Alucard never did that.

    "Binding covenants, my dear. Enough of that. You have to make a
report, you know. Integra will be so delighted you managed to cause such
a ruckus."

    Ceres blinked as she looked up at her Master's face, then turned her
gaze to the burning building.

    "Shit."



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