LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXIII

Two days later, Seras and I were sitting in the lab nattering away. I was showing her the plans Mr. Russell and I had drawn up for my garden plot and she was telling me about the new high-power explosive shells they were testing out on “The Baron” which was their nickname for the Harkonnen shoulder mounted cannon she sometimes used for missions. The thing weighed a ton and could blow up a mini from several hundred feet away so I am not sure why it needed even more powerful ammunition but she and Walter seemed to take great pleasure in making the thing constantly more deadly.

So we were sitting there feigning interest in each other’s hobbies, when a snort of disgust came from the lab tech. as he tried to place the contacts on my head for an EEG Dr. Levin had ordered to scan our interactions. “This is just ridiculous!” He said pressing a disc against my scalp.

“Ow!” I said as he tore it off and tried to reposition it.

“What’s ridiculous?” asked Miss Pringle.

“All of this, hair!” He said. “How do they expect me to get a decent contact with all of this hair? I mean just look at this!”

“Ow! Ow! Ow!!!” I said as yanked off two more connections taking some of my hair with it.

“Tricky.” She said.

“It’s a mess is what it is.” He complained. “Now this one is slipping. I’m going to have to redo the whole bloody thing!” He said reaching for my head.

“Watch you language Andrew!” Said Miss Pringle.

“Sorry Miss Pringle.” Said Andrew.

“Ow!” I said. “Now come on!”

He ignored me and reached for another disc.

“Ow!” Said Andrew as Seras grabbed his wrist.

“Gently.” Said Seras. “You don’t want her bald now do you?”

“Hmmm.” Said Miss Pringle.

“What?” We all asked.

“Is it both the subjects that are giving you trouble or just this one?” She asked looking at Seras nervously.

“Just this one.” Said Andrew, removing the remaining discs with reasonable care keeping my body between himself and Seras.

“Well then, perhaps we should shave the area.”

“What?!” I yelped.

“Hmmm,” said Andrew, “I suppose I could target the spots where the connectors meet the crown.”

“WHAT?!”

“Better yet to cut it all short.” Suggested Miss Pringle (have I mentioned that I hate her?) “Then target the connection areas. It’s impractically long as it is and will just keep getting in the way.”

“Perhaps, I don’t know.”

“What? No ‘perhaps’. Just No!”

“Why don’t we ask Dr. Levin’s opinion?” Said Andrew

“No, Dr. Levin left me in charge.” Said Miss Pringle. “I will make the decision.”

“What’s wrong with you people? Stop it!” I shouted.

Andrew started lifting up sections of my hair examining my scalp. “I just don’t know. It really would be more convenient to have it short but I think I can get away with just shaving a few spots.”

I tried to jump up from the table but Andrews fingers were still tangled up in my hair so I was brought up short and forced painfully to sit back down. “Ow!”

“Oh just do it.” Said Miss Pringle with disgust. “It’s not like it won’t ever grow back.”

“Oh dear God.” I said and began struggling to untangle myself from Andrew’s fingers.

“It really is a bloo... Terrible mess with the paste” he said, “and as you say it will grow back.”

“Andrew,” I pleaded, “please don’t shave my head.” Then burst into tears.

“That’s it!” Seras shouted, grabbing Andrew by the front of his lab coat and shaking him so hard I could hear his teeth rattle. “You let go of her this instant!”

Miss Pringle screamed and hit the panic button she had insisted be installed after Seras’ last outburst in the lab and bolted into Dr. Levin’s office shrieking at him to call “Mr. Dollneaz”. Dr. Levin came roaring out of his office brandishing a crucifix and threatening to sedate the lot of us.

Seras snarled with fury dropping Andrew in a heap on the floor. She took a step towards Dr. Levin her eyes flashing a dangerous red. For a moment I thought she might attack him but she instead turned on her heel and charged out of the room yelling for Walter at the top of her lungs, nearly colliding with him as he strode through the doorway.

He took in our unseemly tableau with a single disdainful glance. We all stood transfixed, frozen in place by his stern disapproving gaze. “What, may I ask,” he said quietly, fixing each of in turn with that look, “is going on in here?”

There was a cacophony of noise as we all strived to be the first to tell Walter our side of the story then a defining silence as we all halted under his withering glance.

Miss Pringle was the fastest to recover her wits. “Perhaps I can explain Mr. Dollneaz.”

Walter’s eyes locked on to her like a heat seeking missile. “Please do, Miss Pringle.” He said.

She flushed and cleared her throat. “Well Mr. Dollneaz. This all seems to have begun when ....”

Walter stood listening to Miss Pringle recount the incident with seeming infinite interest and patience but as the story progressed, the line of his mouth grew tighter and his steely eyes grew harder and more dangerous looking. As she spoke his glance darted from Miss Pringle to Andrew then to Seras and myself then back to Miss Pringle.

I had never actually seen Walter truly angry before and I had certainly never seen him loose his temper. I mean he held perfectly still and was in complete control of himself but I swear I could feel menace in the air and a crackling suggestion of ozone permeating the room just waiting for lightning to strike. I was terrified and could only hope that when it let loose, his anger would not be directed at me.

When Miss Pringle had finished, he stared at her blankly for a moment then said, “I see.” He then turned to Dr. Levin and said, “And what is it precisely that you thought to do with that crucifix Dr. Levin?”

Dr. Levin looked down at the cross which was still tightly clutched in his hand. “One has the right to defend oneself.” He said defensively.

“Surely, you did not intend to use that against a member of my staff?” Walter’s voice was quiet and calm, completely devoid of emotion but that hint of ozone was building.

“She was attacking Mr. Young.”

“Was she now?” He asked very, very quietly.

I wanted to leap to Seras’ defence but was too terrified to move. Could no one else sense the danger? The look on Seras’ face confirmed she, if no one else, did.

Walter turned to look at Andrew, examining him from head to foot. “Are you very badly injured Mr. Young?” He asked with polite concern. “I ask,” he continued, not waiting for a reply, “because as one of the four people in this room to have experienced a vampire attack, you seem remarkably unscathed. Usually the results are far more noticeable.”

Andrew, who aside from a rumpled lab coat, was obviously unharmed, reddened under Walter’s scrutiny. He clearly wished to speak but wisely shook his head once and tightened his jaw.

“A relief to us all I am sure. Miss Victoria?”

“Yes Walter?”

“You will please wait for me upstairs in my office.”

“But.. Yes Walter.” Seras glumly squeezed my hand and left the room.

“Ms. Doyle.” Said Walter. “Would you please be so kind as to show us what happens when an untrained person attempts to attack a vampire with a holy relic?”

I stared at him dumbfounded for a moment then slowly reached down to grasp the hem of my shirt.

“We’ve seen...” Miss Pringle began.

“Indulge me.” Said Walter and nodded at me to continue.

I lifted my shirt up to just below my breasts revealing my abdomen and the area where the flag pole finial had ripped into my body. Alucard had carefully repaired my spine and internal organs but had intentionally left a wicked looking scar scrawled across my midriff. A gruesome souvenir of my first encounter with a vampire.

“Ms. Doyle, please tell us what effect, if any, the bible had on the vampire who attacked you?”

“It made him angry.” I whispered. I looked up at Walter but he was not looking at me. He was looking at Dr. Levin. Everyone else was looking at me though. Theirs eyes riveted on my mid-section. I finally had their full attention and found I did not want it. “It made him angry.” I said louder so they could hear.

“And then what happened Ms. Doyle?”

I took a deep breath. “He impaled me with a flag pole.” I said shuttering, the memory of the pain rolling through me.

“And?”

Why are you doing this to me Walter? I thought but he was still not looking at me. “And used it to pin my body to a podium.” I turned my head away not wanting to see the look of horror in their eyes.

“Thank you Ms. Doyle.” Said Walter still staring at Dr. Levin.

I pulled my top back down and stared at my hands humiliated.

“Ms. Doyle is lucky to be alive.” He let that sink in for a moment. “It is fortunate that Miss Victoria choose to exit the room when you confronted her. Had you actually attempted to subdue her with that Papist symbol you would only have served to enrage her further and possibly have provoked an attack with far more dire consequences than a rumpled coat and a bruised ego. One or more of you could have been killed or turned to ghouls and Miss Victoria herself would most likely have had to have been destroyed.”

I looked up at Walter horrified. What had I done? Making such a ridiculous fuss over my stupid hair. I could have cost someone, cost Seras, her existence! All of those conversations we had had about trying to help Seras and I had very nearly caused her destruction. And if Seras had gone berserk, who would have been able to stop her? Alucard? Walter? I glanced down at Walter’s hands and noticed for the first time that he was not wearing his usual white cotton gloves but instead had on thick black leather ones. They seemed oddly familiar but I could not remember seeing him wear them before, then it hit me. My eyes widened with recognition. Those were the gloves he had been wearing in my hallucination in the elevator. The ones he wore when he.. I gasped.

Oh no. Oh dear God no! I choked back a sob. What had I done? What had I done? I might have started this mess but it would have been left up to Walter to clean it up. To finish it. To finish her. Seras destroyed by two people she loved and it would be all my fault. I began to shake uncontrollably.

Walter had turned and was looking at me with concern. “Ms. Doyle?” He said walking towards me.

I could not speak. I just stared at his gloves shaking.

“Ms. Doyle, are you well?” He was now standing directly in front of the exam table where I sat.

I tore my eyes away from his gloves and the terrible images they were conjuring in my mind and forced myself to look up at his face. “Oh Walter.” I choked “Walter I am so sorry.”

“Sorry?” He asked a puzzled frown crossing his face.

“Because you almost had to, you might have had to... I should have just let them! I shouldn’t have made a fuss and Andrew’s hand got tangled and everyone panicked and you almost had to, you might have had to...” I gestured towards his hands.

Walter looked down at his gloves comprehension dawning. “Ah.” He said.

“I’m so, sorry. So sorry. Please don’t be angry with Seras. I should have just let them.” I covered my face sobbing unable to look at him.

There was a soft whisper of movement then Walter cleared his throat and the ever useful handkerchief appeared in my hand. I thanked him, taking note that he had thoughtfully changed back into his usual cotton gloves.

“I am not angry at Miss Victoria.” Said Walter gently. “Far from it. She did not panic. She did as she has been instructed and attempted to exit the situation. Nor am I angry with you Ms. Doyle. No, neither of you are responsible for this situation” He said more firmly.

I peeked up at him unsure. He leaned down a bit towards me and said quite earnestly, “Ms. Doyle, you and Miss Victoria are in my care, under my protection. You must believe that I am sincere when I say I would never knowingly allow either of you to come to harm.” Startled by his tone I looked up into his eyes but the steel there was not cold or angry but a deep truthful conviction. We were wards of Hellsing and therefore in his keep. And Walter took his charge quite seriously.

I relaxed somewhat under his earnest gaze. From all accounts, Walter made a formidable foe and it would be a mistake to cross him but he was always, always in control. I also suspect that, in his own way, he was fond of Seras. They had fought together to defend Sir Integra and this house. I should have known that he would never have attacked Seras based on a lab tech’s hysterical ravings. I dabbed my eyes and smiled up at him. The first inklings of hero worship stirring in my heart.

I also could not help but notice that while his statement had indicated Seras and I were solidly under Walters watchful protection, that umbrella did not necessarily extend to cover the remaining occupants of the room. A fact that was certainly not lost on Miss Pringle whom I am sure, dreamed about Walter whispering similarly earnest statements in her ear under far more intimate circumstances.

I smiled more broadly, even preened a bit under her baleful glare. “Yes Walter.” I said sweetly. Ha! Take that Miss Pringle! Walter likes me better. OK, I know it was beyond spiteful of me but I really, really don’t like the woman.

“Yes, well.” He said blandly. He knew exactly what I was doing (evil butler superpowers apparently include eyes in the back of ones head) and did not quite approve.

“Sorry Walter.” I said contritely. I glanced again at Miss Pringle’s hate filled stare and it suddenly occurred to me that a ruling had yet to be made about my hair. “Walter?” I said meekly.

“Yes Ms. Doyle.” He said patiently.

“Please don’t let them shave my head.”

He raised an eyebrow apparently mildly amused at my predicament. He seemed to ponder, leaving me twisting for a moment, hoisted on my own petard as it were but relented when he saw the rising panic in my eyes. “Why of course we shan’t shave your head Ms. Doyle. What a ridiculous notion. Isn’t that right Mr. Young?” He asked pointedly.

“What? Oh, no. That is, yes Mr. Dollneaz.” Barked a confused Andrew.

“Completely unnecessary. Isn’t that right Mr. Young?”

“Yes, Mr. Dollneaz.”

“And a pity it would be to destroy such a lovely head of hair. Don’t you agree Mr. Young?”

“Um, yes, lovely.” Said Andrew doubtfully surveying the horrid paste filled rat’s nest that was my hair.

I looked up at Walter gratefully, the roots of that flower of hero worship firmly wrapping their tendrils about my heart and squeezing.

“Perhaps if you explained the difficulty, I could be of some assistance?” Offered Walter politely but not really asking.

Andrew cleared his throat and with a cautious eye on Walter, began to demonstrate the problem.

“Ah, yes, I see Mr. Young.” Said Walter sagely. “This particular method would be difficult to use but I have recently read a paper on varying methods for preparing a patient for an EEG and it contained an alternate application pattern for the contacts which may help with your dilemma. If I may demonstrate?”

Andrew nodded, mildly shocked. I personally, was not surprised having first hand knowledge of Walter’s voracious and eclectic reading habits and his seeming near perfect retention of the minutest facts and figures. The man did the New York Times crossword puzzle in ink for goodness sake. Besides, having seen an order for an EEG on my chart, he had, of course, read up on the subject. Walter liked to know things and was always at least one step ahead. It would bode well for any member of Hellsing’s staff to keep that in mind and from what I’d heard they usually did.

Walter looked down at me and said, “If you will excuse the liberty Ms. Doyle.” And before I could say, “what?” he had reached forward and deftly swept my hair up into a ponytail behind my head. I was so startled by this unexpected contact that ½ of me tried to jump to the ceiling while the other ½ attempted to plow through to the floor both actions negating each other and the net result of which was no movement whatsoever. I couldn’t even manage a proper gasp so I just sat there blinking in surprise.

“You see,” said Walter, “if you place your first contacts here and here...” He continued to hold my ponytail with his left hand but was now using his right to indicate the contact sites.

I found this second form of voluntary contact with Walter even more shocking than the first. There was nothing untoward or inappropriate about the way he was touching me. It was in fact, quite clinical. Yet there was something so intimate about the soft brush of his cotton glove against my skin.

“...but also add extra contact points here and here.” He said running two fingers across my forehead to my temple then down behind my ear leaving a tickley little trail. (Mental note: I think I need a boyfriend. Sgt. Marks is kinda cute.)

It was just so nice to have non-painful contact with a fellow human being in this lab. I am also certain a not so small portion of my pleasure was derived from the fact that Miss Pringle looked like she was about to swallow her tongue. ( I never said I was a nice person.) When his fingers moved to the nape of my neck I had to suppress a giggle. It was pleasant but it really did tickle. I bit my lower lip and concentrated on the point where Walter’s red tie tucked so neatly into his vest. It was a lovely raw silk with an interesting herringbone pattern woven into the fabric. Being a very tactile person, I had to resist the urge to reach out and examine it through touch so I turned my focus to his crisp linen shirt and the fascinating garter devices he wore on his upper arms.

“Which leaves you only having to place contacts on two points of the scalp itself,” he released his grip on my hair allowing it to slide gently from his hand so as not to tangle in his fingers, “here and here. If you wear your hair like so, Ms. Doyle,” he said, grabbing my hair into two odd pigtails, “it should create an adequate part for the contact paste. You will still have to wash it out I’m afraid but it won’t hurt as much when it is being removed. Quite simple really.” He said cheerfully.

There was a moment in which all but Walter tried to gather their wits. Not five minutes ago, we were in the midst of a full blown panic with an angry Walter ready to come down on us like the wrath of God. Now he was playing hairdresser and calmly discussing shampoo. It was just too much for us all to take in. Had it been Alucard, I would have suspected a trap, with him there was always a trap but with Walter, I just did not know. What was it Alucard had said about him? Compartmentalized. Walter released my hair with a whoosh and the spell was broken. We all relaxed a bit.

“Thank you Ms. Doyle.” He said stepping back and eyeing me critically. “You will probably want to clean up a bit before our session this afternoon. Why don’t you go ahead now, if that is acceptable to Dr. Levin?” Dr. Levin nodded visibly relieved the storm had passed.

“I will meet you in my office in,” He glanced at his pocket watch, “forty five minutes. In the meantime, I will remain here with Dr. Levin and his staff to discuss if there are any other areas in which I may be of some assistance.”

So the trap was sprung. Fortunately, I was not the victim, only the bait. I wanted to ask about Seras but the steel was back and his eye and I knew he would brook no further discussion. I had been dismissed. “Yes Walter.” I said obediently. I handed him back his handkerchief and scurried from the room.

Forty five minutes meant forty five minutes not one minute more so I had little time to hang about. I grabbed a change of clothes from my room and dashed for the shower. Good thing I rushed because I had to wash my hair three times to wash all of the paste out.

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXII

The next day dawned sunny and bright (an almost supernatural event in an English spring I’m told). Walter even let me go outside dressed as something other than the Michelin man’s dumpy looking little sister. Freed of my Egyptian funereal wraps I contentedly trailed along behind as he oversaw the clean up of the grounds and the preparations for the spring planting in the gardens. Not to mention the refurbishment of the obstacle course, snipers platforms, and proving grounds.

He was multitasking like crazy. Cell phones, blueprints, planning charts, bills of lading, all orbiting about him like a juggling trick. Frantic people, materials and supplies being channeled back and forth all over the estate and there stood Walter with his clipboard, calm, collected and controlling it all.

It was an awesome sight; Questions, information, problems, disputes all pouring in, answers, decisions, solutions, instructions firing out instantaneously without hesitation. He never got confused or lost track, just the occasional glance at his clipboard as he ticked an item off of his list. I was tired just watching him.

I was surrounded by people but they were all super busy under Walter’s watchful eye and did not bother themselves with more than a glance in my direction before moving on with their tasks. That was actually fine by me today. It left me free to enjoy the sunshine and the breeze and the sounds and smells of nature coming to life.

I had a clipboard as well and I’m sure that there was something I was supposed to be doing with it. Checking off some list or something but instead I was soaking in the green of the tender, new grass shoots and examining the buds on the trees for signs that they were ready to bloom. Good thing Walter did not really need an assistant because I really, really was being quite useless.

I was also relieved at being ignored because it gave me an excuse not to talk. A lot had happened and I had a lot to think about. I wasn’t sure that I was ready to discuss it all with Walter quite yet. He seemed to sense this but did not seem to mind. He was quite busy but even those brief moments of quiet calm between storms of people and problems he seemed more than content to walk along with me in companionable silence until we reached our next destination and the next wave of humanity.

After a couple of hours, we had made a complete circuit of the grounds immediately surrounding the house and had arrived back at the path near the library entrance but instead of going back inside, he waived off all comers and led me back towards the small kitchen and herb garden next to the greenhouse. I loved this garden with all its neat little rows and aromatic herbs, it was my favorite part of the grounds.

An older man was standing just outside the potting shed at the far end of the greenhouse. A Mr. Russell, who was apparently the head groundskeeper, but whom, owing to a broken hip, had not been able to accompany us on the inspection. Much to my surprise and delight Walter actually introduced us. Mr. Russell smiled shyly and removed his cap before shaking my hand.

They held a brief discussion on the progress of the spring cleaning of the grounds then Walter asked if everything was ready in the garden. Mr Russell smiled at me and nodded saying “Of course, of course.” and to just let him know if anything else was needed. A few more pleasantries and Mr. Russell shook my hand once more before replacing his cap and hobbling back into the potting shed with Walter’s invoices and charts.

I thought for sure we would go back to the house now but instead Walter began giving me a tour of the of the garden, explaining planting plans for each plot as we went along. It was quiet and peaceful in the garden and I was thoroughly enjoying the smell of the perennial herbs pinching off a leaf here and there to release their spicy scent but I was dreading the moment when Walter would finally insist on discussing my most recent session with Alucard. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to hide anything from him. It was just that I was in such a pleasant mood.

Finally we came to a small plot which had been turned but had no twine or markers in it. “What’s to be planted in here?” I asked as I mauled a sprig of rosemary I had just plucked from a neighboring bed.

Walter looked thoughtfully at the plot for a moment, then said, “I’m not certain. That depends.”

“Depends on what?” I asked intrigued by the novelty of the words ‘not certain’ coming out of Walter’s mouth.

“It depends on you Ms. Doyle.”

“On me?” I asked not comprehending.

“I thought you might want to plant it.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“For me?”

“Yes, well, you have been so despondent lately but you seem to enjoy our walks outside...”

“Yes, very much.”

“Well, I thought perhaps you would enjoy spending more time outside and I remembered you mentioning how much you missed digging around in your garden back home so I arranged with Mr. Russell for you to have a small plot of your own to plant.”

“Oh Walter! Mine? For me?” I squeaked, joy welling up in my heart.

He nodded “We can give you some cuttings from the other beds or we can order something from the nursery, whatever you ...”

He was probably going to say something more but at that moment, my joy spilled over unable to be contained any longer. “Oh Walter, thank you!” I cried throwing my arms around his neck in a fierce joyful hug and knocking the clipboard out from under his arm. “Oh thank you! Thank you!”

I released him and turned happily to the plot, eying it with pride of ownership, “Mine.” I thought, sinking to my knees. I plunged my hands avariciously into the bed gleefully wiggling my fingers in the dirt. “Oh Walter.” I said again scooping up big handfuls of the rich, loamy soil. “Nice.” I said.

“You mentioned that you were partial to growing herbs. There’s good drainage here, you should have no problems.”

I scooped up another handful and looked at it. It was so loamy and rich it looked almost good enough to eat. “No, it’s perfect Walter.” I turned towards him to show him the soil. “Just right. Oh, look, earthworms.” I smiled up at him.

He had recovered both his clipboard and mine and was standing patiently behind me with his hands folded behind his back. The wise old sheep dog patiently watching over his foolish sheep. “I take it you like it then.” He asked drolly watching me foodle about.

“Oh yes Walter, very much so!” I said and for the first time since I had met him I saw a smile reach his eyes. I gazed at him astounded. That smile changed everything about him. He looked so likeable, so, human. We held gazes for a moment and then it was over. He cleared his throat and suddenly there stood Walter again in all his cold, calm, butler glory.

“I am glad it pleases you Ms. Doyle but I am afraid we have to go back in now.”

“Oh, OK.” I said slightly put off by the sudden shift in mood. Still, I thought looking down at the earth in my hands, still a lovely day so far. I smiled at him again. “Thank you Walter, for letting me have this.” I thought but did not say.

“Perhaps, if the weather holds, we could come back tomorrow.”

“I would like that.”

“Very good then....” He said then waited with patient forbearance as I carefully replaced my earthworms back into my garden bed.


“Mine.” I thought to myself. “Goodnight my lovelys.” I murmured patting the soil. “See you tomorrow.”

I brushed my hands off and followed Walter back into the house. “Not a bad day at all.” I thought

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXI

It took exactly two days for Alucard to figure out Walter was helping me. We were playing the “Lady or the Tiger” game again in which I had to choose between unknown horrors behind two illusionary doors, neither of which would be pleasant for me but one of which would, supposedly, be less painful and easier to defeat than the other. He liked this game because I always lost.

“Well?” Said Alucard as I stood concentrating on the scrabbling sounds which seemed to be emanating from behind one of the doors. I just knew there were rats in there. “I’m waiting.”

I knew if I took too long or refused to move he would just start slamming me into the wall or suffocating me until I gave in and picked a door. I looked at both doors again, thinking about what Walter had told me earlier that day....

“Alucard does not play fair. You can never truly beat him, especially not on his terms.” He said as we meandered through the training maze. A series of connected open air “rooms” in which the men practiced “neutralizing the non-living in a close quarters setting” We were inspecting the targets to be sure they were all operational.

“What you have to decide,” he said, testing the pop-up mechanism on a particularly grizzly looking ghoul target, “is whether you are willing to continue to play on his terms. New spring needed on number thirty seven.”

“I can’t just quit.” I said in a muffled voice through layers of wool. Walter had agreed to take me outside but had insisted on swathing me in several layers of clothing commenting that it was ‘a bit nippy out.’. I had pulled off my gloves because I could not handle the clipboard he had given me to tick off the targets but I dared not unwind the scarf lest I earn a disapproving stare.

“Not quit, certainly. Quitting would be foolish at this point. Targets thirty eight and thirty nine fine. No, you just have to decide on the terms under which you will continue.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” I said, trailing after him clumsily.

“Look.” He said pulling out a screwdriver and going to work on a target. “You agreed to play his game but no one said you have to play by his rules. These are such a nuisance. Would you push up against this side of the target for me please?”

I leaned up against the target and cast a wary look at the grey sky overhead. “You see,” he continued, “the point is not just to see if you can fight your way out of a dangerous situation but to try and avoid that situation in the first place. Just because an enemy lays a trap for you does not mean you have to walk into it. There, that’s done it. Number forty fine.”

I ticked off the target and trotted after him into the next room, almost crashing into him when he stopped just inside the next doorway.

“So, I am allowed to think outside of the box.”

“Not just think outside it but dismantle it. Destroy it, if possible.”

“I’ve tried not choosing but he just keeps hurting me until I do.”

“Yes, he would.” Walter mused. “He hurts you if you refuse to play or if you let your guard down?”

“Yes.”

“So, you must always play and you must never let your guard down.”

“But it really hurts.”

“I know and I am sorry but pain is an extremely effective way to learn to keep up your defenses.”

"What if I’m not strong enough Walter?’

“Of course your strong enough. He wouldn’t waste this much time on you otherwise.”

“But what if I’m not?”

He stopped and looked at me. “Then you will probably go insane.”

“Oh, well, that’s comforting.”

“You did ask.”

“Yes I did, didn’t I?”

He smiled slightly. “I doubt it will come to that. He’s simply trying to push you. Force you into going on the offensive.”

“To defy him?”

“To defy his rules. To challenge him. To try, as I said, to destroy the box.”

“I’m not sure I’m strong enough to destroy it.”

“Perhaps not yet. But you are more than capable of thinking outside of it. Perhaps even stepping around it. Targets forty one through fifty three fine.” He said walking on to the next room while I tried to untangle my clipboard from my scarf....


“Are we sleeping Angel?” Asked Alucard. “Perhaps I can offer you some incentive?” He began raising his finger.

“No! Really! Ooof! Ow! Not necessary, thank you. I’ll be right with you.” I said picking myself off of the floor.

I looked once more at the doors. Of course! How stupid of me.

“OK, I’m ready to choose.” I said looking up at him and smiling as sweetly as I could.

I stepped forward towards the doors then quickly, without hesitation, walked between them , then past them, then over to my chair and sat down.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “What do you think you are doing?”

“You told me to choose. I chose.”

“You were supposed to choose a door.”

“You said the goal of the game was to choose the door I thought would get me out of danger the most quickly with the least amount of pain, so I did.”

“You did not pick a door. Go back and choose.”

“Both your doors are illusions, not really there, yes?”

“So?”

“So was mine.”

“What? Ridiculous!”

“I imagined a third door in my head and chose that one.”

“Now your just being intentionally stupid.”

“Not necessarily. You told me you wanted me to learn not only how to spot the illusion but how to not let it hurt me. What better way to avoid being hurt than to avoid the illusion altogether?”

He stood up looming over me. Placing a finger on my forehead he said. “I think I must have knocked your brain loose when I last hit you. I believe I told you to go back and choose.”

“No. I’m right aren’t I? I’ve figured it out.”

“You are an insolent little chit who should do as she is told.” He said picking me up by the collar, pulling me to within inches of his face and showing me all of his teeth.

“I did do as I was told.” I gasped. “Your just mad because I figured it out.”

“No,” he said releasing my collar and dropping me in a heap at his feet, “your too stupid, too submissive to have tried that little stunt on your own this soon in the game.” He folded his arms and looked at me frowning. “Someone has been helping my little Angel. Helping her play the game.”

I said nothing, just climbed back into my seat.

“Who would help her I wonder?”

I felt an odd buzzing in the back of my brain. Walter had warned me about this. I smoothed out my shirt, placed my hands in my lap and thought about...clouds...

“Police girl?”

....buttercups...

“No, she doesn’t know that trick yet but someone is helping you.”

....palm trees swaying in the wind...

“Which leaves only Sir Integra, who wouldn’t bother and, hmmm, Walter.”

...stone bench in a quiet garden...

He bent down cupping my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. “Is Walter helping my Angel?” He asked quietly, gently.

A fog rolled into the garden and the birds began to ask “Is it Walter?”.

I bit my lower lip and thought about the sun burning away the fog and a cat scaring off the birds. It worked for about three seconds.

“Nice try.” He said, stroking my cheek and the garden burst into flames and the cat burned to death before my eyes shrieking in pain.

“It’s your fault he’s dead.” Said a voice. “You killed him.” I began to cry.

“You will never beat me at this game.” He said. “Never. Now tell me or I will rip it from your mind. It is Walter, isn’t it?”

I shook with the effort going blank, trying to think of nothing.

“Very well then.” He said and an intense pain shot through my head like a hot spike being driven into my skull. I screamed and fell off of my chair. After about ten seconds the worst of the intolerable pain subsided but I still had a blinding migraine. I uncurled from my fetal position and groped uselessly about for a few moments until Alucard reached down and helped me into my chair.

He knelt down in front of me so that our eyes were level. “Angel, Angel, Angel.” He said gently grasping my upper arms to steady me. “I am not angry with you. I am actually pleased, but much as I admire your initiative, you are not ready for this part of the game yet.” He squeezed my arms firmly. “Walter has done you no favors in teaching you that little trick. His mind was always strong, well compartmentalized. A maze he could lead you down and trap you into then attack you at will. Your mind does not work that way Angel. You are too soft and open for Walter’s tricks. You haven’t the weapons to attack. You hold your memories too dear to sacrifice to win the game.”

He gripped my arms still tighter squeezing them painfully. “No, Angel, you will not attack. You will learn to confuse and deflect. To distract but never attack. Walter is smart and he may be able to help you but you must not emulate him.” He stood up still holding my arms lifting me off my feet again. “You may not enjoy my game but if you try to play Walter’s I will tear your soul apart and leave nothing for the dogs. Is that understood?”

He was squeezing so hard now I thought surely my bones would shatter. I bit my lip until I tasted blood then nodded.

He slowly lowered me to my feet and loosened his grip on my arms. He bent his forehead down to touch mine, his hair falling around our faces like a dark curtain. He whispered, “Ah Angel, you are mine, not his, to teach.” He paused, reaching up with a finger to wipe at the blood on my lip. I sighed relaxing slightly.

It was dark and intimate behind that curtain, not sexual but close, almost spiritual in its communion. The scent of my blood mixed with his scent. He smelled of earth. Not musty or damp but dry and undisturbed like a room full of fired clay pots or an old forgotten grave. Far from disturbing, I actually found his scent and nearness comforting, calming somehow. I breathed it in and sighed again contentedly.

He murmured, “I should punish for your insolence...and for letting your guard down.”

I froze, painfully aware of how easily he had lulled me into total submission.

He stroked my lip a few more times. “But I’m not in the mood. I’ll punish you later.”

I could feel him smiling at me in the darkness. I could not help but smile back. He really was a horrible monster. So why did I like him so much?

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XX

That night, after my session with Alucard, I clung tightly to Seras. Hugging her and fussing over her until she jokingly said, “God, at least buy me dinner first!”

Normally, I would have laughed and teased her back about redheads but instead I just released her and said, “Oh, OK. Sorry. I just... It’s just that....” But, what could I say? ‘Please always be my friend and don’t ever decide to kill me and eat me.’? Damn Walter for putting those thoughts in my head and damn Alucard for picking up on them and reinforcing those thoughts tonight. Telling me that one day she would tire of playing with her food and simply kill me if I didn’t kill her first. I must have looked strange because she asked what was wrong.

“It’s just that, you’re my friend and I don’t care about the other stuff but Alucard he’s so” I choked a little “he’s so...but your not, your...I’m sorry I guess I’m just a little tired that’s all.”

“No, I’m sorry.” She said. She grabbed me and hugged me tight. “He can be so awful and he’s twice as bad to you than he even is to me and he’s horrible to me! I’m so sorry you have to go through this. I wish you had just said no.”

“I made a promise.” I whispered.

“I don’t care!” She said, squeezing me tighter. “I don’t want him hurting you anymore. I hate it!”

She was half choking me at this point but I didn’t care. Seras was my friend. The were wrong about her. She would not go bad. Not my Seras. I would not let it happen. I hugged her back fiercely and whispered, “I won’t let it happen!”

“Ow!” She squeaked, pushing me away so suddenly she scratched my arm.

“Ow!” I complained.

“Are you alright?” We both asked at the same time.

“Something bit me.” She said rubbing her neck. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” I said, dashing those stupid tears from my eyes (I really need to get some Kleenex). “Just a scratch.” I said. “I think you need to trim your nails.”

“But, your bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.” I said poking my arm. “Just a scratch.”

She blanched slightly and pointedly looked away. Poor baby, she hadn’t eaten for awhile. I hurriedly wiped the small beads of blood off my arm then reached out to examine the spot on her neck. Her nostrils flared slightly but she held still for my ministrations. It was red but not swollen. “Can’t tell what that is” I said “but it doesn’t look too bad. I think we’ll both live.”

This earned me a small sarcastic smile and a slight push.

“Oh sure, attack me when I’m wounded.” I protested.

This earned me a grin and a pinch.

“Come on.” I said taking her arm.

“Where?”

“To the bathroom to tend our wounds then...”

“Then?”

I picked up my latest invitation to visit the barracks and waived it at her. She made a face.

“Come on,” I said “it will be fun and Corp. Stewart said he’d play his new guitar for us if we came.”

She continued to frown.

“Aw, come on.” I said dragging her towards the bathroom. “If Capt. Burnadett gives you any trouble, I promise to hit him for you.”

“So what? You hit like a girl.”

“Do not!”

“Totally wimpy.”

“Shut up!”

“Make me.” ....

When we arrived at the barracks, I displayed my grievous wound demanding sympathy and Fresca. The medic snorted with disgust and left the room while Sgt. Marks clucked over my arm sympathetically.

“Seras is wounded too. Give her a soda.”

“Ah yes?” Asked Capt. Burnadett. “What happened to you?”

We told our harrowing tale of killer bees in the basement.

“I was collateral damage.” I said, accepting my soda.”

“I was bitten.” Said Seras.

“Bees don’t bite.” Said Capt. Burnadett.

“Stung then.” She snapped.

“Where?”

“My neck.”

“Really?” He said with a grin. “Let me see!” He began reaching for her neck.

“No. I’m fine. Stop it!”

“Don’t worry my petit, I am not the one who bites necks around here.”

“Corrine!”

“Captain.” I said. He turned towards me.

“I meant the bees.”

“Bees don’t bite.” I said. “They sting, remember?”

“Fine.” He said turning back to Seras with an wicked gleam. “I promise not to sting you then.”

“Corrine.”

“What?”

“You promised to hit him.”

“Yes, but apparently, I hit like a girl.”

“Corrine!” She said again stepping back from him and stumbling against a table.

“Fine. Captain Burnadett, leave her be.”

“No, my lady love is wounded. I must lend aid.”

“Piffle.” I said. “Leave her be.”

“No, truly!” He had backed her completely up against the table now and was scrutinizing the mark on her neck. “Ah, to mar such a thing of beauty.” He said poking her with a finger. “Such a crime! Lend us your soda no?”

“Stop it!” She said “Corrine!”

“Oh for Pete’s sake!” I said trying not to laugh. “Will you please do something?” I asked the Sgt.

“Your wish is my command.” He said and hurled my unopened can of soda directly at the Captain’s head.

Before anyone else could react, Seras’ hand shot up and caught it mid air, just inches from impact. I gasped. Captain Burnadett didn’t even blink.

“Merci.” He said, removing the can from her from her nerveless fingers, then carefully pressed it against the mark on her neck. “There petit. Does that feel better?”

“Um, yes. I guess...thank you.”

“Just hold it there” He gently took her hand and placed it on the can.

There was a moment of awkward silence then the wicked gleam returned to his eye. “You see how she protected me? Mon Deiu! She must truly love me, no? To defend me like this?”

“I....I...” She sputtered. “did not defend you. It was just a reflex.”

“No. It was true love.”

“It was NOT!”

“Captain. You really must stop.”

He turned to Marks and me. “She protests but her true feelings show through. How you say, the action speaks louder than the word?”

“You know," I said, watching Seras pour the contents of the can over his head, “I think you might be right.” Then fell off my chair laughing.

“You owe me a soda.” I said handing him some paper towels.

“What is that smell?” He said.

“Citrus.”

“Stupid American drink.”

“Just be glad I drink diet,” I said “or you would be all sticky and the bees might bite you too.”

“Perhaps the bees will be on a diet.” Chirped Seras sweetly.

“You see how cruel she is to me? She wounds me so.”

“I think you’ll live. Now stop teasing her or I will whack you on the head for real.”

“Hmm, yes.” He said. “This reminds me.” He wheeled on Sgt. Marks. “Why did you throw that can at my head?”

“I was aiming for your hat.”

“I am not wearing my hat.”

“Hard to tell it is so ugly and floppy.”

“My hat or my head?”

“Both.”

“You call my hat ugly? You stupid uncultured oaf!”

“Just so.”

The Captain then let out a long stream of profanity which earned several amused chuckles and turned Seras bright red. Fortunately, I do not speak French and so was spared what was apparently a graphic lesson in Sgt. Marks’ anatomy and genealogy . It was obviously a good one, several of the men were taking notes.

The Sgt. Calmly listened to the diatribe even adding the occasional suggested revision. He had apparently heard this lecture before. When they began shifting into German, I laughed and begged Corp. Stewart to fetch his guitar.

“I’ll play if you sing.” He said, tuning up.

“Oh no.” I said. “Please just play.”

“Oh yes, please sing for us.” Said Seras. “I love to hear you sing.” She turned to the others. “She has a lovely voice.”

“Is this so?” Said Sgt. Marks. “Then we must hear it.”

“No, please, really.” I said embarrassed.

“Guitars are meant to be sung with. I shan’t play unless you sing.”

“No, really. I’m not that good.”

“Yes you are. Come on. You sing for me all the time. It’s lovely, please don’t be embarrassed.”

I looked down at my feet. I hadn’t sung in front of people for a long time. The last time I had sung publicly was for ghouls. I shook my head sadly. As a girl and a young woman, I used to love to sing. Any time, anywhere...but now...

“She sings beautifully.” Said a voice quietly from the doorway.

I looked up, it was the medic. He was standing in the hallway just outside the door. When he saw me looking at him, he turned his head away.

“What was that Anders?” Asked Captain Burnadett.

“I’ve heard her singing in her room. I was dropping off a sample for the lab and I heard it.”

We were all staring at him dumbfounded.

“Her voice, it was like listening to an Angel.”

I flinched at his choice of the word ‘Angel’. He must have seen me because he kicked the door frame a couple of times before continuing. “You should sing for them.” He still would not look at me. “Then maybe they will understand.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away. I started to go after him but was stopped by Captain Burnadett.

“No joli, don’t.”

“But he’s obviously upset.”

“We all have our burdens. Demons we must fight. He is struggling with his.”

“But,”

“Give him time. Give him time.”

I looked at the door uncertainly.

“If you wish to help him, sing for us as he asks. He is not far, he will hear you."

“What should I sing?”

“Barbara Allen!” Said Seras that being her favourite.

“Too sad.” Said Corp. Stewart. “No songs about death right now.”

“Yes, something happy.” Said one of the others.

“Something pretty and sentimental.” Said Sgt. Marks.

“Something French.” said Captain Burnadett.

“I really don’t know any French songs.”

“Something German then.” Said Sgt. Marks

“Ha! There is no such thing as a pretty German song!”

“OK, OK. Stop.” I said.

The Corporal and I whispered back and forth a bit and landed on a simple tune we both knew.

‘Alright Anders,’ I thought, ‘here we go.’ I closed my eyes and sang “Edelweiss” .

When I finished there was dead silence. I opened my eyes and they were all staring at me. I felt horribly embarrassed and wanted to run from the room.

“Oh,” Seras breathed, “that was beautiful.”

“Wonderful.” Said Stewart.

I blushed and looked at my hands. “Your very kind.” I said.

“No. It was beautiful.” Said Captain Burnadett. “It felt like...” He tapped his head once or twice. “Like being somewhere warm and comfortable. Like, like..”

“Like coming home.” Said Seras.

The others nodded and smiled.

“Yes, like coming home.” Marks said. “Very wonderful and a German song to boot!”

There was a snort from Captain Burnadett and a giggle from Seras. I relaxed a little.

“Sing us a another.” Said Corp. Bulls, tossing sodas to Seras and Sgt. Marks.

I was about to demure when Corp. Stewart said, “Just one more love, then we’ll all join in OK? Make it a proper party.”

“An excellent idea.” Said Private. Zelig plopping down on the couch next to Seras.

I realized then that we were no longer guests but had somehow been accepted by these men, for better or for worse, as one of their own. I was being adopted by a bunch of scary, burly professional killers and was thrilled about it. I smiled and nodded to Corp. Stewart.

After several drinking songs, a couple of more show tunes and even a few old hymns I was almost falling over with exhaustion but I was so happy I just did not want it to stop. Finally, it was time for my phone call to my son. I had just enough time to kiss each scruffy cheek before Seras dragged me off back to the house. It would be several days before I thought about Anders again.

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XIX

A few days later, Walter informed me he had discovered my secret activities in the bindery.

“The Binder came today.” He said as we approached the library.

“Oh yes?” I said innocently.

“To pick up the items for repair.” He cast me a meaningful look.

I said nothing, glancing with interest at the ceiling.

“Imagine my surprise when he informed me that there were only two books in the bindery in need of repair.”

“Really?” I said. Fascinating ceiling, just fascinating.

“Yes. The two large, leather bound volumes.”

“Oh?”

“The other twelve items seem to have somehow repaired themselves.”

“Amazing.”

We were in the library now, Walter had stopped walking and was looking at me intently. I glanced over at him but tried to avoid direct eye contact. “Ms. Doyle, I thought that I had made it clear that we were going to use a professional binder to repair those books.”

“Was there something wrong with the way they were repaired?”

“No, the binder said you did an excellent job.”

“Ah, well then.”

“Except for one of the items which he felt you repaired rather oddly.” He said producing a slim volume. It was the Jules Verne novel.

“No, not repaired Walter, conserved.” I ignored his stern look and continued. “You see, I repaired the other books because, well , they needed repairing and I wanted to show you that I was capable of being useful. That is useful beyond being an experiment. Besides, they were sitting there wounded, waiting for me to fix them. I couldn’t stand it. You might as well have asked me as a mother it ignore a hurt child on the playground. I had to fix them. Give them back their purpose. But this book Walter...” I said lovingly taking it from his hands. “This book needed something different.”

I glance up at him then quickly away. “I know you said that this title would be cheaper to repurchase than to repair.” I said quietly. “And you were right. Repairing this book would have been a stupid waste. No, worse, a crime.” I looked up at him pleading and defiant. “Don’t you see Walter? This book. This copy, of this book has been loved and not just by one person but by many people across many years. Cherishing it. Holding it in their hands and devouring the text. Young people, perhaps reading their first novel.” I stroked the covers lovingly. “Dragging it with them everywhere till it was tattered and ratty but still loving it. Proudly writing their names in their best script wanting to own a piece of it forever, to be a part of its history. Every bumped corner, every smudgy fingerprint, every scar on this book makes it just that much more precious.”

“Then why,” he said very softly and dangerously “didn’t you simply leave it be?”

Here was the crux of it. Here is where it got tricky because I could not tell him the entire truth. I could not tell him why I had tightened the spine on the back shoulder but not the front. Why I had tipped back in pages and reattached the plates but not repaired the fly leaf or end papers. How could I tell him I had done it for him?

Not for the stern, cold Walter with his clipboard and distressingly spare office or the dis-impassioned Walter reporting on me, writing his observations in that damn folder. Certainly not for the murderous Walter who haunted my dreams. Not even for the Walter who had done his best to be kind to me and who let me take tea with him in the den. No, not for any of those Walters.

I had done it for the Walter who, years ago, had read this book. A young Walter who had very obviously loved it. Who, like the others before him, had wanted to keep a piece of it, be a part of it but who, being Walter, had not proudly written his name below the others but instead had very faintly and very carefully written his name in the smallest of scripts where the cover bends and tucks itself into the shoulder of the book. Present, but discrete. Separate from all the others.

A single tear slid down my cheek. I had defied all of those other Walters for that Walter. For the young man who had loved that book enough to write his name in it but had not felt it proper to place it with the others. For the Walter who, even now, could not bring himself to discard that book or re-glue the spine because in doing so he would be obliterating a little piece of himself.

How could I tell him all this? He would only resent my presumption. This intrusion into his privacy. And it was a terrible presumption on my part. Who was I to meddle in his life? He would be angry. He would certainly not thank me. He might even hate me for it.

Yet I knew that I had to do whatever I could to let him keep this one little piece of himself alive even if it meant defying him. Even if it meant not being completely honest with him. Still, I had to be careful. He was not stupid and if he suspected that I was lying to him out of pity he might never forgive me but it was a chance I had to take. I took a deep breath and plunged.

“Did you ever read the ‘Velveteen Rabbit?’” I rushed on not waiting for an answer. “How by loving a toy a child could bring it to life? The most wonderful thing for a toy in that story was not to be shiny and new but to be well worn and played with and loved. This book has provided years of faithful service. Brought many people a great deal of joy. It deserves better than to sit moldering away in a dark room, falling apart, never to be read again. So I conserved it. Stabilized it. Fixed it just enough. Sure, it’s not strong enough to be stuffed into a back pocket and dragged all over God’s creation or read in the bathtub, It’s too precious for that anyway. But it is sturdy enough to sit on the shelves with the other books dreaming of its next reader and perhaps, some rainy day, some bored child may pull it down wondering what’s so special about this battered old thing and be tickled to see those familiar names on the inside cover and begin to leaf through it. Perhaps they will decide to sit by the fire and read a page or two. They may later look up at that mantle clock and realize that they have been reading for hours. They might even take it upstairs to bed with them so that they can finish it and maybe, just maybe, they will carefully write their name inside the cover before lovingly placing it back on the shelf like a treasure for the next child, perhaps their child, to find.”

I petered out exhausted. I was now holding the book slightly away from me so that my tears would not fall onto it. “I just wanted there to be some happy memories too.” I said quietly, more to myself than Walter.

Walter took the book from my hands replacing it with a handkerchief. He watched me quietly for a moment as I dabbed my eyes then looked down at the book drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the cover. When I was more composed, he spoke.

“The weather seems fairly passable today” he said placing the book on the table in front of us “and you have been indicating a desire to view the estate. Perhaps a brief tour of the grounds behind the house?”

I stared at him slightly derailed but managed to stammer out “I’ll get my coat.”.

He glanced out the window at the drizzle outside. “Yes, perhaps it is a bit wet for a walk...”

“No!” I screamed in my head. “No it’s not!”

“but,” he said walking over to a stand by the door and removing two umbrellas “These should do to get us to the greenhouse.”

Walter said nothing more as we walked the short garden path from the library to the greenhouse. It wasn’t until we were inside and he had shut the door that he spoke. “Ms. Doyle,” he said “You have a tender heart and a romantic soul both of which are dangerous liabilities when studying at the feet of a vampire who has neither of these.”

“Tenderness?” I asked, sniffing a flower.

“No. A heart or a soul. Tenderness and romance do not even enter into the equation. Not for Alucard.”

“I know that.” I began.

“No you don’t, not really. It’s hard, practically impossible for any person, any human to understand how utterly devoid of emotion a vampire is. They are true sociopaths. They mimic emotion when it suits them but they don’t really feel it. The just use it as an ends to a means. Alucard is the ultimate predator and he means to use you for his own purposes. Any kindness, love or gratitude you feel will be perceived by him as weakness and will be repaid with cruelty. Love and fear, those are his two greatest weapons against you so you must show him neither.”

“But, Seras.” I objected.

“Miss Victoria is not quite yet a vampire, not truly. She is hesitating, clinging to her humanity but finally, when she accepts what she is, her attachment to human custom and emotion will fade and be replaced by a true vampiric nature.”

“No. She’s not like that.”

“Not yet but ultimately, I fear this is her fate.”

“Then why keep her around?”

“She is useful.”

I ground my teeth at the coldness of it all. Then, I had a thought. “Then why do you try to help her?”

“Because she fights her fate. She struggles to maintain her humanity, despite the odds.”

“But you feel she is destined to fail?”

“Most likely, but she deserves the chance to try.”

“Can I help her?”

“You already do by being her friend and encouraging her to maintain society with other humans.”

“But.”

But it can’t last. The bloodlust will eventually become too strong and she will begin to see her friends as nothing more than domesticated food. Easy prey.”

“Can nothing be done?

He spread his hands noncommitaly.

Is there nothing more to be done? I would be willing to do anything if it would help. She may be a vampire but she is my friend and I love her!”

“There’s that tender heart again.” He said. “Dangerous, deadly even.” He admonished giving me a stern stare.

I glared back at him. “I mean it Walter.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

He held my gaze a few moments more. “Very well,” he said “let me think on it. In the meantime, I think it is best that you keep me appraised of precisely what transpires during your sessions with Alucard. I may be able to advise you in some areas but ultimately it is you who will have to be strong enough to face him alone.”

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XVIII

The next several nights were pure hell. Seras had done her best to help but nothing could prepare me for Alucard’s sadistic, bi-polar schizophrenic approach to “teaching”. I never knew what to expect. One minute he would be cruel and belittling, the next, sweet and gentle, fawning over me like I was a prized pet performing a cute trick. Sometimes, he wouldn’t say a word but would just begin to physically and psychically slam me as I walked through the door.

All of it was horrible and I found myself crying constantly for almost no reason. Worst of all, I still wasn’t completely sure what it was he expected of me. The duration of my “lessons” seemed to depend entirely on how long it took for Alucard to become bored or disgusted with me and send me to bed.

Seras was usually waiting for me and did what she could to cheer me up. Even taking me over to the barracks once or twice when I seemed up to it, despite the fact that there seemed to be a running spat between her and Captain Burnadett (something about her hating everything about him and him finding that quite amusing). Everyone was quite kind to me except the medic and Captain Chambers who would always leave the room soon after we arrived. At the end of each visit, Captain Burnadett would always kiss my cheeks and slip me another written invitation telling me to visit again soon. Then he would offer the same farewell to Seras and she would slap his hands away and leave in a huff. “I might just have to marry her she hates me so much.” He would sometimes say to her retreating back.

Walter was also very kind. I was having trouble concentrating and was finding it hard to read so I had taken to curling up in the window box and napping. Once or twice, I even slept through tea time much to my chagrin. Far from being annoyed he would simply leave a cup of tea on the small table he had placed next to the window box for me. I would wake to a warm fire, the lovely smell of tea and Walter sitting in his chair silently filling out his crossword puzzle. As soon as he saw I was awake, he would lay the paper aside, freshen my tea and offer me something to eat. If it weren’t for the psychotic monster trying to drive me insane every night, I might actually have called this a pleasant time.

But monsters are real. And the thing that makes them truly terrifying is not their claws and teeth but their twisted sense of humor and absolute lack of pity. I’m not just making this up. I got it directly from the source. Not the part about the twisted sense of humor, I gleaned that nugget of wisdom through personal experience, but the part about having no pity. That came straight from the horse’s mouth as it were.

The first thing I needed to know about vampires, Alucard told me during our first session, is that they were cruel, inhuman monsters without compassion or pity, himself included. That they are self centered evil killing machines and that I must never let my guard down and lest I forget...He flicked his finger and threw me up against the wall.

When I tried to stand, the image of a fiery pit opening up beneath me popped into my head. I could actually feel the heat from the flames. I suppressed my yelp of fear and scrabbled back against the wall. I stared at him warily, unsure how I should react. Be on guard he said, but how? He smiled mockingly. “Your move Angel.”

A test. OK. I took a deep breath and walked across the fire pit towards him my eyes never leaving his. I felt pain from the heat but I never actually fell in. When I reached him. I glanced back and the pit was gone because, of course, it had never actually been there.

“You see, even when you know something is an illusion it can still hurt you, as long as any part of you believes it is real.” I glanced down at my shoes. The soles were smoking from the illusionary fire. “You must learn to completely dismiss the illusion as false.”

He gestured toward an empty chair next to his. I sat down and slipped my feet out of the still smoldering shoes. I looked up at him. “But couldn’t the illusion of one danger be masking another, real danger that I could be walking right into?” I asked.

“Yes Angel, it might. How very clever you are.” He said tweaking my nose. “You must learn to distinguish reality from illusion. Hold to the truth and banish the lie and” He stroked my cheek gently. “Never let your guard down!” He said as he threw me across the room. He stopped me just before I hit the wall then let me dangle in the air a moment before slamming painfully to the floor.

“Have you ever heard the story of the “Lady and the Tiger?” He asked.

I nodded as I pulled myself up to my hands and knees.

“Excellent.” He said. “Then let us begin.”

I stood up ignoring the pain in my hip.

“Concentrate Angel. It wont be pleasant for you if you fail.”

I wiped my sweating palms on my thighs and turned my attention to the two doors which had appeared before me. I could almost feel the tiger’s claws ripping into me. I began to tremble with fear. Real or not, whichever door I chose, it would ‘not be pleasant’ for me... and so my training began.

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XVII

“We weren’t really going to do it you know.” I said to Walter as we got on the elevator.

“No, of course not.”

“I mean it.”

“Hmmm. I begin to wonder if perhaps you are not a bad influence on Miss. Victoria.”

“Walter no!” I gasped.

“But, still, one can not always control who befriends whom...”

I huffed back against the elevator wall unsure if he was teasing me.

“Walter?”

“Yes?”

“Why does Sir Integra want to see me?” I had been so happy to get out of the lab early that I had almost forgotten to feel apprehensive about my meeting. Almost. Our last words to each other after all had been about the possibility of her killing me.

Walter was his usual helpful self. “Perhaps you should ask Sir Integra.”

I shifted uneasily, my wounds suddenly hurting me more than usual. Perhaps Sir Integra had decided to not to take any risks on what I might become. Perhaps she had decided to just get rid of me. My head began to throb. Would she dirty her own hands with the job or get someone else to do it? I glanced up at Walter. Surely not, but then again, Seras had confided in me a few things about Walter. What they used to call him. What he used to do for Hellsing. How even Alucard showed him a level of respect 2nd only to that of Sir Integra. Seras told me how she had seen him in action once. How fast and deadly he was with his weapon of choice, the garrotte wire.

A sense of dread washed through me. The silver wire inside of me seemed to tighten and vibrate. A black fog descended and a voice began whispering in my head “They are going to kill you... They are going to kill you.” over and over. Terrible visions of my own death started flashing through my mind. Sir Integra, her face a haughty, indifferent mask, driving a long wooden stake through my heart. The force of her blows slamming me into the ground and pinning me to the floor. Alucard shooting me in the gut then casually reaching inside my wound to grasp the silver wire then twisting and twisting it until my spine snapped. Even my Seras succumbing to the blood lust and ripping me apart with gluttonous enthusiasm.

“They are going to kill you...They are going to kill you.” My wire began thrumming along with the voice. “No please no!” I thought but the visions continued. Walter strangling me in the elevator... This last image was so real, I could feel the cold monofilament wire wrapping itself about my neck biting into my flesh. Terrified, choking, I reached up and began to claw desperately at my throat. The thrumming of the silver threads increased and they began to grow hot.

“Not real.” I tried to say but could not speak. The wire was choking me, choking me. I pulled my fingers back bloody from the wire. I tried to beg Walter to stop but he just drew the wire tighter smiling coldly his eyes hard steel as the blood began to spill out of my throat.

“No”

The fog grew thicker. “You are dying. He is killing you.” The voice chanted.

I knew that voice.

“No” I said desperately. “Not real.” The silver wire felt molten now. A searing white hot pain shot through me bursting through the fog. “Not real!” I screamed at the voice. “Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!”

Reality slammed back into me like a speeding truck. I gasped air back into my lungs with sheer relief. How long had I been choking? The elevator chimed its stop in answer. Walter had turned towards me as if to say something but I stumbled back from him terrified. The image had been so real. When the doors opened, it was all I could do not to shove him aside and bolt from the elevator.

“Are you all right Ms. Doyle?”

“I, I’m fie.” I stammered. “I seem to be developing a headache.” That much was true. My head hurt horribly. My migraines had been getting progressively worse over the last couple of weeks, especially at night.

I still felt a bit wobbly as we entered Sir Intergra’s office. It was huge and quite tasteful but, like Walters office, very Spartan. Light shone in from several long windows which covered the western wall. They opened out on to a large stone balcony and shared the same lovely view as the library below but her large desk and chair were positioned so that her back was to the windows. There was a large, contemporary portrait of a middle aged man with a kind face hanging on one wall. I recognized him from the photos in the study and surmised it to be Sir Integra’s father the late Lord Hellsing.

Sir Integra herself sat behind her desk studiously pouring over some papers. “Please come in.” She said without looking up.

My footsteps echoing on the marble tile only served to increase the cavernous feeling of the room. There were no other chairs so I stood awkwardly in front of her desk while Walter handed her my charts from the lab.

The winter glare from the windows was exacerbating my headache so I glanced down at my feet then gasped and stumbled back a step as, just for a second, I thought I was standing on a plastic drop cloth. I looked back up at Sir Integra half expecting to see her with a gun in her hand. Instead she was frowning at me with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Are you unwell?” She asked.

I swore I could hear a faint chuckling. I narrowed my eyes and quickly glanced about the room but could not pinpoint the source of the sound. “I seem to have a headache.” I said. More chuckling, louder this time.

“I believe she is being psychically attacked by Alucard.” Said Walter who had appeared at my elbow with a glass of water and some pills. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I hadn’t even seen him coming. I accepted them with shaking hands. “She seemed to have an incident in the elevator as well.”

I felt the wires inside me start thrumming again. I felt a cold chill and heard a strange chittering sound and I seemed to catch the scent of old, dry earth. I wheeled around to face the wall where the painting was hanging.

“Walter your no fun. You used to be more fun.” Came Alucard’s voice from nowhere. There was a slight waiver in the air just to the left of the portrait then, suddenly, there he was stepping though the wall as if it were a doorway.

“I thought we had agreed not to perform any testing of this nature until after our meeting.” Said Walter striding back over to stand beside Sir Integra’s desk. “A warning at least was in order.”

“I wanted to see if my theory was correct.”

“Still, advanced notice.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“This is highly questionable. I thought she might be having a seizure.”

“Enough.” Sir. Integra interrupted. Both Alucard and Walter immediately deferred to her. I was astounded. “Well, how did she do?”

“You know I’m standing right here.” I said. “I wish people would stop talking around me as if I weren’t here.” This was as bad as the lab.

She fixed me with an icy stare. “I thought to include you in this meeting so that you might be able to provide some input but we can have it just as easily without you.”

Well that shut me up.

“Well?” She said, turning back to Alucard.

“Not bad for a human.” He said. “We had fun didn’t we Angel?”

“I almost died!”

“A love bite, nothing more.”

“You were trying to kill me.”

“Nonsense. If I wanted you dead Angel, you would be.”

“But I was chocking to death! You, Walter...”

“Yes, that was good wasn’t it?”

“No!”

He walked over and stroked my cheek gently then turned to Sir Integra and Walter. “I put some lovely images of us killing her in her mind. She was quite receptive. She especially took to the image of you killing her Walter, that one almost worked. Pity she caught on so quickly.”

Walters face was an emotionless mask but Sir Integra narrowed her eyes. I gave you permission to test her sensitivity, not scare her to death.”

“A game.” He said stroking my hair. “A mere lark. Right Angel?”

“You know how I feel about ensorceling Alucard.”

“I know we don’t want to be vulnerable to it ever again. I seem to recall the last time when both you and the Police Girl almost died.”

Sir Integra said nothing, just stared at him.

“Besides, it woke her up psychically. Made he quite sensitive to the presence. You saw how she felt me through that wall. She may be a bit jumpy around Walter for a while but other than that, no harm done.”

Sir Integra’s gaze shifted over onto me. A look crossed over her face, a mixture of pity and regret. For a moment, she seemed quite small and young behind that big desk. She glanced up at Walter and his carefully maintained impassive facade and her face quickly recovered its stony confident mask.

“Walter, her health?”

“Physical or mental?”

“Both.”

“Well physically she is healing at a remarkable rate and is in fairly good condition. Her body should be able to withstand the increase in activity the training would require.”

“And mentally?”

“Considering all of the factors, not too badly. She is still displaying some signs of trauma. Some odd mood swings which may or may not be directly related to Alucard’s machinations. She is showing a high level of adaptability to her peculiar circumstances but as Alucard has not yet revealed the specific nature of the intended training, it is hard to say what long term impact it will have on her. But, overall, she is relatively stable.”

My cheeks burned red and I stared at my feet a bit hurt and disturbed by Walter’s frank, impersonal analysis of me. Alucard clucked his tongue as he twirled a lock of my hair between his fingers. “What’s wrong lab rat.” He asked. “Walter hurting your feelings again is he?”

I whirled on him, my anger and humiliation welling up inside of me. “Now, now Angel. I thought we agreed that there would be no further of your pointless little tantrums.” He said.

At that moment I wanted nothing more than to slap him across the face, tell them all to go to hell and walk out of that office, out that front door and never look back. I was so sick of them and their stupid organization. As far as I was concerned they could all just .... but I had made a promise.

He tugged my hair breaking my train of thought. “Come now lab rat. There is no cheese but I expect you to run through my maze nonetheless.” I bit my tongue refusing to rise to the bait. “I offer you nothing, only that which I have already given. Your life and the lives of those children. Of course, you could always walk away.”

They were all looking at me, waiting. I closed my eyes. I could. I could just walk away. I probably should. But...no. I sighed and shook my head.

“You will keep your word then?”

I nodded squeezing my eyes shut tighter a single tear running down my cheek.

“Ah yes Angel, there will be tears” I felt his hand brush my cheek. The was a strange hissing sound and a whiff of burnt flesh as he leaned in to whisper. “And anger and pain and I will show you how to use them all.”

“Enough!” Said Sir Integra. “Ms. Doyle, I do not pretend to know what agreement you have made with Alucard and you may very well provide us with some much needed answers but I will not allow you or anyone else to be coerced into this. Please know that you have the right to refuse regardless of whatever obligation you may feel. We’ve all blood enough on our hands here that none should owe us gratitude. If anyone, those children owe their lives to you.”

I opened my eyes and stared at her shocked as she continued. “What we are asking of you may help us to save lives but it will not be pleasant and we will not force you to accept. The choice must be yours.”

We held gazes for a moment longer then I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. My head really did hurt. “I understand” I said “and I thank you but I will keep my word.” I glanced back up. Her face was a stony cold mask again, her moment of humanity gone. Of course, she had learned from the master I thought looking over at Walter’s emotionless face. I glanced at her father’s portrait. She certainly did not learn that from you I thought examining the kind features. I wonder what other tricks your little girl has learned from Walter.

I stole a look at the others in the room. Who were these people I was dealing with? What did I know of them?

A vampire. An inhuman monster that resembled a man but was unhampered by human morality. His reasons for saving me were his own. I was alive because it suited his purposes. I should expect no tender emotions from him such as love or pity.

Walter, a death dealer turned butler who had dedicated his life to the service of this organization. A man who dealt with scores of people every day but always held himself apart. No unnecessary ties. This house, this cause was his family. So why had he been so kind to me?

And they both served this girl. This woman-child who was the unquestioned authority of this place. Firm, uncompromising and zealously aggressive when it came to her charge. For her, the family mission was everything. No time for anything else. She was so young but she bore her burden with the supreme confidence of one born to serve this post. ‘Blood’ on their hands she had said. Yes, I believed it.

“Very well then” she said. “I suggest you get a good night’s rest. We shall begin tomorrow evening. Walter, please see to the details.”

And with that, I was dismissed. So much for getting my input.

I didn’t really care. Walter asked me to wait for him in the library and I practically bolted out the door. Once in the library, I stuffed myself into its highest, remotest corner and released the panic attack.

What had I just done? I had assuaged the conscience of a woman who would not have had the slightest qualms about killing me had I turned out to be something other than human. Had basically given her permission to turn me over to the tender mercies of a vampire so that I could take part in whatever sick, twisted game he had in mind. What was wrong with me?

I was angry. Angry at Alucard for being so cruel. Angry at Walter and Sir Integra for being so cold. Angry at God for asking me to do this and angry at myself for agreeing to do it. Angry! Angry, frustrated and in pain. My wounds still hurt and my migraine was practically blinding me.

By the time Walter found me, the pain had subsided and I had ridden out most of the waves of raw emotion but I was still crying. I wasn’t really upset anymore, I actually felt a bit numb but the tears kept coming nonetheless. Like the incident in front of Walters office, I was not so much crying as leaking. I stood up gingerly as he approached and turned my head away slightly trying to hide the tears.

“I am sorry Ms. Doyle, a psychic attack of that nature can be very unnerving.” He said holding out a crisply starched handkerchief .

My mouth twitched a little not so much at the memory of the attack but at the ‘Ms. Doyle.’. “No. I know it wasn’t real.” I said accepting the offered cloth. “Besides, it’s wasn’t your fault.”

“Still, to use those you know, Miss. Victoria, myself. It distresses me to think that these images might somehow negatively impact your relationship with her.”

“It wont.” I said dabbing my eyes. “I know that Seras would never harm me.” Although I’m not so sure about you Walter, I thought. Ironic that I am less afraid of the vampire than the butler.

Poor Walter, I mused, wiping away at those stupid tears. He thinks I’m crying because of what happened in the elevator. I guess it’s understandable, I will probably have nightmares about it for some time to come. I could still feel the ghost of the garrotte wire cutting into my throat but that was just an illusion. A cruel little game of Alucard’s. Nothing to curl myself up into a ball over. Some ‘Angel’ I would turn out to be if I couldn’t even handle the pre-test. No, I wasn’t crying because of that.

I looked up into Walter’s politely concerned face. How could I possibly explain it to him? Make him understand the utter sense of desolation, the painful loneliness and isolation which seemed to permeate this place. How sometimes it just overwhelmed me. How standing in that office I had felt naked and without allies. How the thought of being alone and unloved frightened me far more than anything Alucard could possibly do to me. How could Walter, a man of solitude and self control, a creature of this desolate place, possibly understand my fears or, if he understood them, how could he not despise me for my weakness?

Perhaps I was being unfair. Perhaps, as usual, I was laying my frustrations at his feet. He was after all , in his own way, being kind to me. This is who he was and it was wrong of me to expect him to be anyone but himself but I wanted so much to believe his kindness had been more than just a chance to observe me. That he wasn’t just doing his job. I don’t know why it mattered to me but it did.

The events of the morning had left me raw and unbalanced. It was best to let him believe that it was the illusion that was upsetting me. I sighed and began walking towards the staircase. This was all dangerously close to wallowing in self pity and I had made a promise not to do that any more.

I just wished I didn’t feel so alone.

“You are not alone.” came the voice.

I froze midway down the spiral staircase listening. The clouds broke and sunlight streamed in from the windows striking the dust motes, painting them gold and causing them to sparkle like diamonds as they danced slowly though the room. It was so lovely, I could not resist stretching out my hand to catch the nearest sunbeam. It felt warm and sweet like liquid gold pouring all around. I cupped my hand and let it pool up then stream out between my fingers. I closed my eyes and stepped into the sunbeam.

I could sense God’s love and the beauty of his creation all around me. That reassuring presence telling me that I was not alone and it was going to be OK. I felt truly happy for the first time in a long while. I was still crying but now they were tears of joy. I was strong enough, I would never be alone and I would always be loved.

I opened my eyes wiping away the last of my tears and reached up to catch another sunbeam sighing with pleasure. “Oh how lovely.” I whispered. I turned to Walter smiling. “A sunbeam can make everything look so beautiful can it not?” I said offering up a tear soaked, sunbeam drenched handkerchief to him.

“Yes.” he said. “ Lovely.” The dust motes danced between us as he stared at me for a moment. The he reached out solemnly, as if I were handing him a holy relic, and gently plucked it from my hand tucking it into his glove.

The somber expression on his face made me laugh. “Oh Walter, I haven’t gone mad I promise. It’s just that this place can be so gloomy and then every once in a while we get a reminder of how lovely it can all be. How something as simple as a sunbeam can give so much pleasure and show us the beauty of God’s creation.” I stopped suddenly feeling awkward under Walter’s puzzled, polite stare. “I guess that sounds a little hokey to you.”

“On the contrary. I thought it was quite eloquent.”

I looked down at my hands hoping he wasn’t just humoring me. Observing me.

“We get so engrossed in our day to day tasks that it becomes easy to miss the small gifts that can give us pleasure.” He said.

“Yes.” I said smiling down at my hands.

“But for now I’m afraid, I must take you back to the lab.”

“No Walter, not that.”

“I am sorry but Dr. Levin insists.”

“Please Walter, I can’t take it. I have no more blood or fluids to spare. There is no more left to give. I am a dried out husk.”

“There’s that glass of water I gave you earlier.”

“Oh now Walter!”

“It’s a memory test nothing more, I assure you.” He said. “They want to get a baseline on your cognitive skills before you begin your training with Alucard tomorrow .”

I groaned inwardly, Something else to look forward to. “They’ll poke me Walter. They always do.” I said petulantly.

“Nonsense. I told you, it’s a cognitive test.”

“They’ll find an excuse.” I’m not sure why but I was taking a perverse pleasure in making Walter coax me out of that library and once again, for some reason, he was putting up with it.

“Come now Ms. Doyle, the sooner we get you there the sooner it will be over.”

I gave him an incredulous look then sighed. “Very well then.”

“Besides, if they start the testing now, you should be finished in time to join me for tea. That is, if you would care to join me?”

I smiled up at him. “Yes Mr. Dolneaze, I think I would.”

Well, it wasn’t that bad and I did finish on time for tea. Although I did cast several meaningful glances at the fresh band aid on my arm where they had stuck the needle in almost before I had gotten all the way in the door. Walter just smiled slightly and offered me another scone. And thus our fragile friendship was mended.