LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXVI

I did not tell Seras what Alucard had told me about her parents but I did tell her that I was exhausted and dirty and did not think I could handle going to the barracks that night. Plus, I did not want anyone to see the bruises. That’s when Seras told me about the “grotto”.

It seems that after the recent attack on the house, Sir Integra had taken Walter’s advice about expanding and fortifying not just the buildings but the old cave system and aqueduct that ran under the estate as well. Apparently these caves had been used on and off over the centuries by the Brits, the Romans, the Saxons and one or two radical protestant sects. For the last 50 years they had, for the most part, fallen into disuse. Even Alucard had only ever shown mild interest in them, saying bats and caves were a bit too cliche for his tastes, and he could see in the dark.

It comes to pass that while attempting to track back the source of the stream that ran though part of the cave system, former Sgt. Marks (having been busted to corporal for the 5th time that year), Pvt. Zelig and some of the other Wild Geese had run across a passage which had some time ago been sealed off by a rock slide but which seemed to run parallel to the stream. After clearing away some of the rubble, Pvt. Zelig, being the smallest, had been stuffed through the tiny opening only to find himself standing shin deep in freezing cold water and staring at a statue of a naked woman.

Naturally, Corp. Marks and the others had immediately set about rescuing Pvt. Zelig who, for some reason, seemed disinclined to leave the cave. In no time at all most of the rubble had been cleared away and as the water drained out, they found themselves standing in a fair sized cave which seemed to contain a small but well preserved temple dedicated to a Roman goddess.

Their excitement was only slightly dampened by Walter’s declaring it not an original Roman bath but most likely a renascence reproduction created as an idyll for a wealthy nobleman. Still, a naked lady statue is a naked lady statue regardless of her antiquity so, with Sir Integra’s grudging permission, the men had set about “restoring” the grotto to its full and former glory... and then some.

The ‘and them some’ involving the addition of electrical lighting and a heating element for the pool.

Seras said that Pvt. Zelig had finished the wiring this afternoon. The grand unveiling was scheduled for tomorrow night and she and I had been invited to go swimming.

I sighed, a good soak in a heated pool sounded just the thing (there was no bathtub only showers on my and Seras' floors) but I could not possibly do so while the others were there. Perhaps if were just Seras ... She broke my revere reading my mind. Mentioning the guys were all on call tonight and Walter was sequestered in a meeting with Sir Integra so we decided to throw our own pre-opening party. We could always feign surprise and delight tomorrow.

Seras led the way through the sub basement carefully skirting the chapel and crypt which marked the entrance to the cave system by taking me into the aqueduct. Too creepy she said. I repressed a smile. The path was bordered by a series of rectangular pools obviously of man made origin. Seras said they were fed by the stream and were part of the old Roman system which still supplied the estate.

We followed the path back into the caves and through the areas under renovation. From the looks of the supplies and armaments being laid in, it appeared that Sir Integra planned to be able to withstand a siege of long duration. The thought of trying to fight vampires underground made me shudder. “That’s not the plan.” Was all Seras would say and she pulled me into a side passage which seemed to have had few renovations thus far.

I liked this section of the cave much better. It had retained much of its natural state. The water, having cut its own channel deeper and deeper into the soft stone over the millennia, had needed little improvement from the Romans.

The only obviously man made object was a metal post planted at the edge of the water where the channel widened out near the back before disappearing into the darkness at the back of the cave. It was very ornate and had apparently at one time been gilded. The top was in the form of a stag rampant, fleeing towards the entrance of the cave. A pack of hounds in relief swarmed up the body of the post snapping at the stag’s heels.

I reached out and stroked the stags nose. The head was turned back but it was not looking at the dogs but towards the darkened rear of the cave with an expression of both longing and resignation. As if, even with death only a moment away, it yearned to turn back. I shuddered in sympathy before turning away.

As the channel widened, the path beside it grew narrower and narrower. Once or twice, Seras and I had to squeeze past a stalagmite or duck under a stalactite. The odd angels of the walls and rock formations caused the illumination from work lights strung along our path to be quite dim and I bonked my head a couple of time before I had to sternly remind Seras that, unlike her, I could not see in the dark so an occasional warning from her would be nice. We finally emerged from the path, Seras happy and excited myself sweaty and disgruntled, then she flipped on the switch.

Oh it was so worth it.

The narrow passage had opened out into a large cave filled with all sorts of rock and crystal formations peeking out from behind delicate pillars where Stalactite and stalagmite had merged to form tall, graceful trees of stone. The wide channel cut through the left half of the cave winding towards the back to its source, a waterfall which came pouring out through a large crack in the wall of the cavern. A small stone bridge near the waterfall led across the channel. At the end of the bridge stood another post its features somewhat corroded but suspiciously naked and nymph like.

Beyond the bridge lay the grotto. A large pebbly pool fed by the gentler sister of the first waterfall, trickling down the stone wall in a slow but steady stream.

At the far edge of the pool stood a white marble statue of a young, lithe woman. One of her arms was resting on her shoulder coyly in front of but not quite concealing her breasts, the other was reaching down towards the pool. She seemed to have just disrobed and was deciding whether or not to bathe. Below her were stone steps leading into the pool their risers carved with images of nymphs and frolicking dogs which seemed to be beckoning her to enter the water.

I recognized her immediately. “Artemis .” I whispered.

“Oh you guessed it!” Seras said sounding mildly disappointed.

“Yes.” I said. “The maiden goddess of the hunt. It’s exquisite. That explains the stag outside, poor creature. Strange theme for a rich man’s idyll.” I mused out loud. And yet how appropriate for it to have been found on Sir Integra’s watch I kept to myself.

Seras shrugged. “You and Walter love all of that history stuff. It was never really my thing.” She said, tossing her towel on the bench.

“History stuff.” I snorted. “How about Irony?” I asked the potentially immortal creature, the virginal vampire who stood opposite Diana’s statue poking her toe in the water.

She looked at me bemused. “Odd, that’s just what Capt. Burnadett said.” She shrugged again stripping off her robe. “Shall we go in?”

I suppressed a laugh. Poor Burnadett, there’s nothing worse then telling a joke and having your intended target not get it. It was probably for the best. He teased her far too much. One of these days she was going to lose it and put him right through a wall.

“It looks cold to me.” I said suddenly self conscious of my overweight middle aged figure compared to her disturbingly perfect one. Perhaps if I dunked her head under the water a few times...

“No it’s great. Z installed some heating elements and set them up so the pool is cool by the waterfall but pretty hot by the time it reaches that end.” She pointed to a spot in the pool where the lip was slightly lower than the rest and the water cascaded down into yet another, smaller pool then away to who knows where.

“That is so cool.” I said. “Wait, ‘Z’?”

“Yeah, Zelig wants us to call him Z now cause he doesn’t like his first name and he really hates his call sign.”

His first name was Bertram so I really couldn’t blame him. “What’s his call sign?”

“Cupcake.”

“Ouch! How did that happen?”

“I don’t know. Marks just said something cryptic about girls underwear and I was afraid to ask. So, anyway, he’s lobbying like crazy for a new one. I think this whole grotto thing is part of a bribe to get the others on his side.”

“He who controls the heating coil controls the world.” I said.

“Something like that.” She laughed.

“Still it’s not as bad as the secret Skraeling name they wanted to give me anyway.”

“What was that?”

“Let’s just say, I had to talk them up to ‘Roadkill’ and leave it there.”

“Ouch.” She said.

“Exactly.” I said.

“Boy, and I though I hated being called ‘Kitten’ by my old unit before..” She trailed off.

Bad memories.

Seras had been a police officer before she had ever even heard of Hellsing. Her entire squad had been slaughtered the night she and Alucard had met. She was the sole ‘survivor’. Alucard had shot her through the lungs to get to the vampire who was holding her as the last living hostage. Then he had turned her into a vampire herself. Why he did it was unclear. Perhaps because she was a virgin. Perhaps because he was hungry. Perhaps because she had looked him in the eye and not flinched when he had shot her.

Bad memories.

I moved to the far end of the pool, slipped out of my shoes and took a tentative step down onto the shelf near where the water flowed out. It was delightfully warm. “Oh that Cupcake, he’s a genius.” I said.

I stripped off my robe and ventured in. Seras did a neat dive into the deep center of the pool and popped up next to me.

“That was fun going through the temperatures like that. You should try it.” She said.

“Not moving. Too comfortable.” I murmured snuggling my back up against the smooth, hot marble which formed the wall of the pool.

“Mmm. It is nice.” Seras said stretching languidly in the warm water. “I wonder if that little pool down there could be turned into a Jacuzzi?” She mused.

“Promise Zelig you’ll wear a bikini in it. That will motivate him.”

She giggled and blushed then turned serious. “You think it would work?”

“Seras, I think half the squad would chew though rock to get you into a 2 piece.”

“No, stop.” She said. “Really?”

My hands itched to dunk her under the water. I hate reassuring beautiful girls that they are pretty. Only the fact that I knew Seras had been practically raised by overprotective police officers who would just assume bludgeon a guy for looking at her funny much less asking her out, kept me from acting on the impulse. “Yes honey really.” I said instead.

She smiled and blushed again then looked at me thoughtfully. “I wonder what they would do to see you in one?”

“Not funny.” I said mildly hurt.

She frowned and seemed genuinely puzzled. “Oh, because of the bruises?” She said. Then her face cleared. "Wait a couple weeks till they’ve cleared up and we’ll both wear them together!” she said brightly.

Pretty people can often be quite insensitive without meaning to. I compressed my lips into a thin line. My emotional baggage was not her problem but come on, how oblivious could she be. I suppressed my hurt and said as calmly as I could. “Seras, I assure you, no one wants to see this, in a bikini."

Her eyes narrowed and me and she frowned, finally catching on. She looked worried for a moment then snorted at me derisively. “Shows how much you know Miss ‘I know all the Greek gods names’!”

I looked at her stunned.

“I happen to know for a fact that there are several guys in the squad who would be quite well pleased to come down here and find you lounging about in a bikini so don’t you dare glare at me like that.” She punctuated the point by splashing me in the face.

“Like who?” I spluttered.

“I pick up on things you know.” She pinned my shoulders to the wall and glared down at me with those red eyes. She lowered he voice. “I have excellent hearing.”

“Yes, I know but Seras...”

“I hear the guys talking after missions about what kind of girls they like.”

“Yes?”

She glanced meaningfully down at my cleavage which even I, as much as I hate my body, have to admit is quite impressive. It was my turn to blush.

“They also mention legs a lot and you have very nice calves.”

“It’s my bits in between that seems to turn them off.” I harrumphed.

She growled and to my astonishment actually dunked me under the water. She hauled me back up coughing and sputtering.

“Nobody is allowed to talk about you like that. Not even you!”

One look at her flashing eyes and the sarcastic retort I had been about to give, died on my lips. Was she actually angry with me? Her eyes lost their focus but not their intensity. “Nobody.” She whispered firmly.

I stared at her astonished at a loss of what to do.

So I sneezed.

That snapped her out of it.

Her eyes grew round and soft again as she took in my bedraggled state. “Oh oops, you didn’t want to get your hair wet did you?”

“No, I did not.” I said tugging at the soaking wet bun which was now listing uncomfortably off to one side of my head. I finally managed to get the scrunchey out and it fell past my shoulders in a tangled lump.

“It doesn’t look that bad.” She said trying to keep a straight face as she watched me ineffectually poke at the sodden mass.

“It took forever to wash that paste out of it this morning” I grumbled. “I usually braid it if I go swimming otherwise it gets everywhere and tangles me up.” I climbed up to sit at the edge of the pool and began to vigorously towel my hair. “Good thing I packed my hairbrush. Can you get it for me?”

“Hairbrush?”

“Yes, it’s in the bag.”

“What bag?”

“You know, the bag with our dry clothes. The bag I handed you before we came down here?”

“Oh, that bag.”

“You did bring it didn’t you? I saw you carrying a bag.”

“Um.”

“Seras!”

“Well.”

“Then what’s in that bag?”

“Um snacks?” She said meekly.

“Snacks?”

“Yeah. You know, munches. And wine.”

“You don’t drink. You can't get drunk.”

“Well I like the taste and I thought it might be nice for you so you could, you know, relax.” She said waiving the bottle at me.

“Aw Seras!”

“I thought you would like it.” She sniffed.

“Yeah, sure, great. Get me nice and toasty so I can then wander damp and tipsy through a poorly lit subterranean cave system leaving a trail of wet, tangley Medusa hair on every stalactite and rock outcrop and if I get sleepy, that’s just fine cause I can just take a little nap in my damp bathing suit in the Hellsing family crypt where I will, ironically, catch my death of cold.”

“OK, I get it. I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“Well, someone is going to have to go back and get it.” I said archly.

Seras carefully avoided eye contact. “Can’t we go back together?” She asked meekly.

“I can’t walk though the halls like this!”

“I think you look rather nice with that turbany towel thing on your head.”

“Seras!”

“But,”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go by myself.”

“Why not?”

“It’s cold and dark.”

“Exactly why I’m not going.”

“But,”

“Seras, you’re a vampire. You can see in the dark. You don’t get drunk and you can't catch a cold!”

“I know I’m a vampire,” She said testily. “But I still don’t want to walk around by myself in just a robe.” She pouted.

“So go turn yourself into a mist or a bat or something before my hair dries like this.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going. You know, most people don’t speak to vampires this way.”

“I’m not most people and your not most vampires.”

“No, were not, are we?” She smiled and kissed my cheek.

“Don’t forget my hairbrush.”

“I wont.”

“And some leave in conditioner.”

“Fine.”

“And some lotion.”

“OK.”

“Oh, and Seras?”

“Bloody H... something else?”

I grinned. “Could you leave the wine?”