"This pleasant month of May,
the fauns and satyrs trip it.
Fa la, la la la.
Fa la, la la la.
Fa, la la la la la!”
What is it about sipping wine from a paper cup while soaking in a hot pool of water in a fake Roman temple that makes one want to sing madrigals?
"All nature now is gay.
All nature now is gay.
Fa la, la la la.
Fa la, la la la.
Fa, la la la la la!”
I was really enjoying the acoustics. Perhaps a sea shanty would be appropriate.
"Here’s one more day, on the Great Funnel Line...” hmmm.
Seras was right. This is relaxing. Good old Seras.... I had found the perfect spot where I could sit in the warm water with my arms stretched out along the ledge and my head could lean back onto the lip of the pool and still keep dry. It was so nice. Bless you Cupcake.
Unfortunate call sign that. That’s the problem with nicknames you know, you rarely get to choose them. Other, crueler people, such as your friends, usually choose them for you.
Ironically, I had lobbied for years without success for a nickname but nothing ever seemed to stick. Then, one night my sister talked me into going to a Markland feast and there, surrounded by drunk medieval re-enactors, I was finally granted my wish (be careful what you wish for little girl) and dubbed ‘Roadkill’.
Sexy, no?
Well, it could have been worse, much worse. Plus, I really had a great time at the feast. I don’t recall any food but there was mead. Lots of mead and my sister had seemed so happy. We had finally reached an age when we could really start being friends and not just siblings and when she was happy she would energize the whole room and it was hard not to be happy too.
Re-enactors. Ach, weird and crazy the whole lot of them. Myself included. I miss those days. But NOT my secret Skraeling name! Misty eyed, I raised my fisted right had to the side of my head and sang “Markland thy slimy sod, forsook by all but God. Home of the darkest swamps and thickest of thorns...”
I didn’t sound half bad but I felt myself becoming oddly maudlin. Must be the wine I thought pushing the cup away. After all, I did not want my earlier diatribe to Seras to become a self-fulfilling prophesy.
I needed to lighten the mood.
Kate Smith? No, one must sing quite loud to do Kate justice and the reverberations might prove dangerous. It seemed fairly stable in here but being a properly British cave, the strains of ‘God Bless America’ might just cause a stalactite to break free and whack me on the head just to prove a point.
I glanced warily at the ceiling. Perhaps a musical.
Yeah!
Something Cheerful and bouncy.
Something light and fun.
Something like... like....Hair!
Perfect.
I settled a bit further down into the water, threw back my head and belted out ‘Aquarius’.
“When the Moon is in the 7th house...”
Much better.
When I got to ‘My Conviction’, I was really feeling feisty so I decided to tackle the operatic version featured in the movie soundtrack (but sadly omitted from the film) cause I wanted to try out the high notes. It was great. My voice was madly whizzing and zooming and bouncing about the cave. The cacophony was amazing. By the time I reached the note
near the end which was to be held for a 17 count , I felt as if I were being backed by a demented, but very cool, chorus.
"There is a peculiar notion that, elegant plumage and fine feathers are not proper for the man, when
A----------------ctually,”
Wow, this is great!
“That is the way things are in mo-o-o-ost spe-cies.”
My arms splashed down into the water with the final crashing note of the orchestra.
I was having a great time. I had even forgotten to wonder what was taking Seras so long until about ½ of the way through ‘Frank Mills’.
“I love him but it embarrasses me, to walk down the street with him.”
Hmmm. Are those voices I hear?
“He lives in Brooklyn somewhere and wears this white crash helmet.”
Yes, that sounds like Seras. I wonder who she’s talking to.
“He has golden chains on his leather jacket and on the back are written the names,”
Oh yes, that must be Cpt. Burnadett asking why she is talking so loud.
“Mary”
The squad must have gotten back early.
“and Mom”
And decided to go for a swim.
“and Hell’s Angels.”
And Seras is talking loud to warn me they are coming.
“I would gratefully appreciate it ..” Oh. Oh!
“Oh rats!” I screeched as I exploded out of the pool and grabbing for my robe just in time.
The guys trooped in staring at Seras who was talking very fast and very loudly about nothing in particular. She sagged with relief when she saw me belting my robe tightly around my waist.
I turned up my collar so that it covered most of my neck and beamed at them. “Oh, is that you Seras? I didn’t hear you coming.”
“Surprising considering the high level of noise she was making.” Twinkled the Captain.
“Yes, almost as if to warn you we were coming .” Growled Corp., no, Sgt. again Marks. “And give you time to get into that robe.”
His look of disappointment was quite flattering.
Seras’ triumphant look of ‘I told you so’ was just annoying.
‘Shut up’ I glared back at her.
“Is that what you were doing? Drat you Victoria!” Said Corp. Stewart.
I giggled, so help me, I actually giggled a bit.
“Not that I’m surprised you couldn’t hear us with how loud you were singing.” He continued.
“Oh was singing too loud? Sorry.”
“No, you sounded great. We were trying to shut this one up so we could listen.”
“Well!” Said Seras indignantly.
“The acoustics in here are amazing.” I said walking over to Seras and hooking my arm through hers. “Thanks.” I whispered in her ear giving her arm a squeeze.
“The acoustics in here are quite good.” He said. “I should bring my guitar down here but you were what sounded amazing.”
“Oh.” I said blushing and giggled again. No more wine for you Corrine.
“Yes, but I do not recall the words ‘Oh rats’ in the lyrics of that particular song.” mused Sgt. Marks.
“Artistic license.” I laughed.
“And that operatic recitation earlier. I do not recall that particular arrangement from the play.” He said.
“Movie soundtrack.” I confessed.
“I thought you were more of a purist.” Said Corp. Stewart.
“I wanted to see if I could hit the high notes.”
“Philistine.”
“Art is where you find it.” I sniffed. “Speaking of which, Zelig you did just an amazing job here. It’s absolutely.... Why is he glaring at us like that?” I whispered to Sgt. Marks.
Pvt. Zelig, who had not uttered one word since coming in, was standing with his fists on his hips, eyes flashing, seething with anger.
“He is very artistic. Likes to be complimented right off.” Marks whispered back. Then in a louder voice said, “What ho Zelig. Why so angry? The place looks damn nice I think.”
“Yes, great job.” Chimed in Stewart.
“Oh like I care what you scutters think!” snapped Zelig. “What do you know of art? What do you know of beauty?” He glared balefully at each of the men in turn looking for all the world like a wet angry rooster. “You look at this and what do you see? A naked lady and a warm pool and your happy. You haven’t an ounce of aesthetic sense to share among you!”
“Oh Gut in Himmel! Is this about that stupid fairy lights garden in Bosnia again?” Bellowed Sgt. Marks. “Cause if it is..”
“We said we was sorry.” Said Pfc. Griffin.
“This is not about Titania’s Delight!” Zelig roared back.
“So what’s eating you if you don’t care what we think?”
“Because I care what Corrine thinks!” He said striding over to me.
“---” I said. Caught off guard.
He looked at me beseechingly. “ I wanted to show to you because I knew you could appreciate what I had done. I wanted to show you and Mr. Dollneaz and Sir Integra tomorrow night when everything was perfect. But now!” He threw his hands down a portrait of despair.
“Oh but it really is beautiful!” I said “And what you did with the heating elements, the way you made the wall so warm, sheer genius! I haven’t felt so relaxed in ages.”
He looked at me still miserable. “But it’s all wrong.”
“No, it’s lovely.”
“No it’s not. And this one!” He said whirling around and pointing to Seras like an actor in a bad historical courtroom drama ‘J’accuse’. “Thinks she can just bring you in early and show you my work. Then she doesn’t even turn on the lights right.”
“What? I flipped the switch. I turned on the lights.”
“You turned on the wrong lights! These are not the proper lights!”
“...I flipped the..”
“These are the work lights! These are not the proper lights.” He growled.
“We could see good enough to swim.” Said Seras getting a bit defensive.
Zelig’s face began to turn purple.
“Merde.” Said Capt. Burnadett under his breath as he tried to insert himself between Zelig and Seras.
“Here we go.” Said Sgt Marks.
“Good enough? Good enough!” Roared Zelig. “This isn’t about ‘good enough’ this isn’t about just seeing! This, this is about...”
“Encountering a multi-sensory artistic experience.” Chimed the Capt. And the Sgt. At the same time.
“Exactly!” Said Zelig. “Not that you care and this one has ruined it!”
“Now wait just a min..umph!” Seras began before Burnadett clapped his hand over her mouth.
She glared at him so hatefully that he immediately snatched it back. Opting instead to wrap an arm around her shoulders and whisper to her urgently “By all that is holy little one, please shut up.” He looked up “She really is sorry Zelig. Aren’t you Victoria?”
“Um yes?”
“See. She is very, very sorry.”
“But the lights.” He said sadly.
“I knew it! Stupid fairy lights again. I swear I am going to fu.. Hey!” Said Marks as I ‘accidentally’ kicked him in the shin.” This was getting out of hand.
I stepped forward to Zelig. “Zelig, Bertram, this is all my fault really. You see, I was so miserable tonight from training and when Seras told me about what you had done here, it sounded so lovely and fun I got excited and just had to see it for myself. Seras was just trying to make me feel better. I am so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Well,”
“I baked brownies.”
“With Walnuts?”
“And fudge chips.”
“Well, I suppose you weren’t to know.”
“I am sorry.”
“So, you liked the heating elements?”
“Love them.”
“And the benches? I added those.”
“Did you? I would never have guessed. They look original.”
“Oh for the love of...Ow!”
“Shut up Marks!” Hissed Burnadett. “She’s got this.”
“I just wish you could have seen it right.”
“You could still show me, couldn’t you?”
“Well, I don’t have the tuner but... I suppose I could... yes, that would work....hmm, yes. And you really want to see it right? With the lighting and, and everything?” He asked tremulously.
“Oh yes, very much.”
“Well then, hmmm..., yes. Yes! I will show you. I will show it to you the right way!” He grabbed my hand and pulled me back across the bridge. “Come, come all of you out. We do it the right way so Corrine can see it the way it should be!” He shouted happily as he herded us out of the cave.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
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?”
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?”
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXV
I froze in place staring at him in disbelief. Was he really going to break my arm? Was this another test?
Test or not, it didn't matter. Arguing with him was useless and pleading with him would only make him angry. It wasn’t like I could outrun him so, really, my only option was to obey and hope he would change his mind.
I had to force myself to walk towards him. This was worse than the old game. If he decided to hurt me now it would not be an illusion, it would be for real.
I finally stood before him trembling. He stared at me hard for a long time then said, “Give me your arm.” I did not dare to close my eyes or look away. I held out my arm, delivering myself into the jaws of the mother of all tigers. His hand reached out and circled my wrist. “Sit.” He said lightly, indicating the chair next to his and giving my arm a little tug.
I sat. He rested my forearm across the armrests of our two chairs. Our gazes were still locked, his face was unreadable.
“I should you know. I should break your arm.” He said running his finger up and down my exposed wrist and forearm. His touch was as light as a feather, it sent thrills of fear through me. I was screaming with terror inside my head but managed to maintain my outward calm, praying that this was only a test.
He smiled, his eyes glowing as he savored my fear. “Angel how delicious you are. Your fear is so sweet. You will have to learn to control it or no matter how strong your powers get, the next vampire you meet will rip you apart just to taste it.” He stilled his finger over my pulse, slitted his eyes and literally rumbled with pleasure. The vampire blood within me responded to his pleasure, shivering with anticipation of the pain to come.
No, stop! This is sick. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, pushing up against the fear and panic. I began to sweat. It was just a matter of moments before my control snapped and I would begin to scream uncontrollably.
He closed his eyes and sighed. His nostrils flared as he breathed in my scent. “Lovely. So sweet.” His eyes snapped open. "You had better find a way to control that fear fast Angel or I will have to break that arm of yours just to keep myself from drinking every last drop of you.”
Oh my God he’s not kidding. Panic and elation shot through me at the same time. This is so wrong I thought but I had to do something fast so I grabbed on to the feeling of elation and followed it back to its source. To the place within me where Alucard dwelled. It was sick and dark but my blood sang through it, brushing up against it with both revulsion and secret delight. This is where the dark thoughts lived. I held on and rode the feeling through it, past it. Knowing that if I let go now I might be sucked in and lost there forever.
Finally I found it, bumped up against it. My core. I released the sick feeling of elation, wrapped myself around who and what I was and hung on tight. I took a deep breath, recaptured his gaze and looked back at him without fear.
He could break my arm if that’s what he decided. It would hurt dreadfully and I did not want him to but I had no control over that. He was stronger than I and I was in his power. He could tear off my arm if he wished to, tear me apart. He could even kill me but he could not touch me. Not my core anyway. For all his powers, even he could not reach me here without my consent. So I looked at him and for the first time, in a long time, I was not afraid.
He smiled. “Well done Angel.” He said, squeezing my arm. “I shan’t break it today.”
He pulled my hand up and over to his mouth dragging my chair towards his until they came together with an audible click. He brushed his lips against the inside of my wrist. I noticed dispassionately that my pulse quickened with pleasure. He smiled at me again. “But you will still have to be punished. This is the second time you have defied me and I can not let it go again. I have my reputation to consider.”
He tilted his head slightly and gave me a considering look. “Now let’s see...” He said. “It will have to be an appropriate punishment so that you will remember...” He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on my wrist. His glance wandered down to his other hand where he still held the strange lacy net he had woven from my hair. “Yes, that will do nicely.” He smiled. “Turn your head Angel to look at the door and don’t move until I say so.”
I glanced down at his hand then back up into his eyes, then turned my head to face the door. I felt his fingers comb through my hair.
“Ow!” I jumped a bit with surprise but did not turn my head.
“Hold still Angel.”
“What are you? Ow!”
“If you are going to make such a fuss over your hair, the least I can do is make sure it serves some useful function. Ah yes, these and these.”
“Ow!”
“Quiet! You didn’t make this much noise when I was really hurting you.”
“Well, you were strangling me at the time. Eeep!”
“You squawk like a chicken.”
“Those were baby hairs.” I could tell the lesson was over and he was just enjoying himself now.
“You mean like these?”
I hissed painfully and gripped the arms of my chair tightly. “What exactly is it that you are going to do with my hair?”
“Show you in a minute. Almost done.” He was actually humming a tune under his breath. “I like the reddish gold ones they are like blood on new copper.”
“Glimpt!”
“They weave in nicely with the gold and brown. Oh, here’s a grey one. Shall I pluck it for you?”
“Yes, I’ve named it Alucard.”
“Then we’ll just leave it there shall we? Here are two more.”
“They are all named Alucard. Take as many of the grey ones as you want.”
“Hmm. No, they are too stiff and lifeless. I like the others so full of light.” He yanked out a few more and swung his arm around to show them to me. “See? Walter’s right, you do have pretty hair. The strands are very fine, very reflective. Good for weaving and holding power. OK, done. You can move now.”
“Good. Ow!”
“Still needed a couple more.”
“That felt like more than a couple.”
“Squawks like a chicken, squeaks like a rat, gibbers like a monkey. Do you actually make any human noises?”
I turned to see what he was doing, rubbing my tender scalp. Andrew should have no trouble with those connections now, I thought wryly. He was weaving the new hairs into the lacy net giving it layers and making the pattern more and more complex. He had resumed his humming. His fingers were moving impossibly fast.
“Poor Walter.” He mused. “You know he was really something once. Cruel, cunning, arrogant. He knew no fear. He waded through hordes of the undead and killed without quarter.
"He was quite a sight to watch in action. 14 years old and both mortals and eldritch quaked in fear at the thought of him. The carnage was glorious. He truly was the 'Angel of Death'.
"Those were good times. What fun we had.” He smiled fondly at the memory .
“14?”
“Yes, he was beautiful. Full of horror and rage. And oh how he used that rage Angel. Took that bitterness and betrayal and the rape of his childhood and turned it into a powerful and determined hatred. He tore though Europe raining down death and destruction. They fell by the score and still there was never enough blood to slake his thirst.
"And the games Angel, the games we played. He was a master. One of only two humans who ever came close to beating me. What a magnificent vampire he would have made.
"But he wasted it, threw it all away and for what? For honour? A misplaced sense of duty to this house?
“Honour.” He spat out the word distastefully. “It was the one, so-called higher human virtue I never seemed able to cure him of. I blame all of those books that woman gave him to read about King Arthur.
He knew he was different. That others did not seem to relish the violence as much as he. So he sought to change his very nature by chaining himself to some ridiculous and impossible code of ethics instead of accepting and embracing who and what he truly was.”
“Which was?” I asked tightly.
“A born predator. A beautiful and vicious killing machine.”
“He was a boy!” I said angerly, trying hard to fight back the tears. “Who does this to a boy!? Turns him over to a vampire, teaches him to kill?”
“He was feral when we found him Angel. Life is cruel to the weak. He had already seen more horrors than you can imagine. He already knew how to kill.”
“So instead of helping him heal, he was given to a monster?”
“I assure you he was an eager pupil. We were well suited as companions. Monsters together. I think he even loved me a little.”
“What kind of a monster would do such a thing?” What kind of a bastard had the Lord of Hellsing been?
“Monster enough to control us both. Monster enough to kill other monsters. You cry for him Angel? Do you shed your tears for Walter? You should. Not for what he was but for what he should have been.”
“No, I weep for the boy.”
“Why? We were wolves together. Sharp and fierce. It was his own pathetic need to ‘ennoble’ himself that turned him into a dog so that he could better serve his master. So what is he now? An old, infirm hound lying in the hall. Nearly toothless, barely able serve. Too meek to even beg bones from the table.”
“Stop it!”
“I only speak the truth.”
“You pervert the truth to be cruel.”
“And you rise too easily to the bait. Look at you. Crying for a child who has been dead for decades. No matter, it suits my needs today.” He said as he reached up and wiped at my tears with the net he had woven from my hair. “Yes.” He said. “Tears of self pity and pain are useless to me but empathy and compassion, these hold great power.”
“Observe Angel.” He spread out his hand, opening up the ‘cloth’. Its pattern was both intricate and open, layered and flat like some magical spider web. It was amazing. And my tears, instead of soaking into my hair making it dark and damp, had beaded like morning dew and were glinting softly in the dim light. He flexed his fingers and twisted his wrist and the tears slid along the strands glittering like jewels. Reflecting, making the copper and gold highlights gleam.
“You see Angel. How I can create beauty from your pain? You are soft and weak but I can use you. Can use your tears." He stroked my cheek fondly. “I may be cruel Angel but I speak the truth. I can not feel compassion but if I did I would imagine that it would be hurtful to hear such terrible things about one’s friends. So, if I were to tell you the story of how your dear Captain Burnadett lost his eye...”
I glared at him.
“No. Not that one. You don’t love him enough yet. Besides, children are your weakness aren’t they?”
"......."
“Did the Police Girl ever tell how she lost her parents?”
“Don’t!”
“What she had to watch them do to her mother?”
And so I cried for Seras. Cried for her pain and gave my tears to Alucard because vampires do not feel compassion. Vampires do not cry.
Test or not, it didn't matter. Arguing with him was useless and pleading with him would only make him angry. It wasn’t like I could outrun him so, really, my only option was to obey and hope he would change his mind.
I had to force myself to walk towards him. This was worse than the old game. If he decided to hurt me now it would not be an illusion, it would be for real.
I finally stood before him trembling. He stared at me hard for a long time then said, “Give me your arm.” I did not dare to close my eyes or look away. I held out my arm, delivering myself into the jaws of the mother of all tigers. His hand reached out and circled my wrist. “Sit.” He said lightly, indicating the chair next to his and giving my arm a little tug.
I sat. He rested my forearm across the armrests of our two chairs. Our gazes were still locked, his face was unreadable.
“I should you know. I should break your arm.” He said running his finger up and down my exposed wrist and forearm. His touch was as light as a feather, it sent thrills of fear through me. I was screaming with terror inside my head but managed to maintain my outward calm, praying that this was only a test.
He smiled, his eyes glowing as he savored my fear. “Angel how delicious you are. Your fear is so sweet. You will have to learn to control it or no matter how strong your powers get, the next vampire you meet will rip you apart just to taste it.” He stilled his finger over my pulse, slitted his eyes and literally rumbled with pleasure. The vampire blood within me responded to his pleasure, shivering with anticipation of the pain to come.
No, stop! This is sick. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, pushing up against the fear and panic. I began to sweat. It was just a matter of moments before my control snapped and I would begin to scream uncontrollably.
He closed his eyes and sighed. His nostrils flared as he breathed in my scent. “Lovely. So sweet.” His eyes snapped open. "You had better find a way to control that fear fast Angel or I will have to break that arm of yours just to keep myself from drinking every last drop of you.”
Oh my God he’s not kidding. Panic and elation shot through me at the same time. This is so wrong I thought but I had to do something fast so I grabbed on to the feeling of elation and followed it back to its source. To the place within me where Alucard dwelled. It was sick and dark but my blood sang through it, brushing up against it with both revulsion and secret delight. This is where the dark thoughts lived. I held on and rode the feeling through it, past it. Knowing that if I let go now I might be sucked in and lost there forever.
Finally I found it, bumped up against it. My core. I released the sick feeling of elation, wrapped myself around who and what I was and hung on tight. I took a deep breath, recaptured his gaze and looked back at him without fear.
He could break my arm if that’s what he decided. It would hurt dreadfully and I did not want him to but I had no control over that. He was stronger than I and I was in his power. He could tear off my arm if he wished to, tear me apart. He could even kill me but he could not touch me. Not my core anyway. For all his powers, even he could not reach me here without my consent. So I looked at him and for the first time, in a long time, I was not afraid.
He smiled. “Well done Angel.” He said, squeezing my arm. “I shan’t break it today.”
He pulled my hand up and over to his mouth dragging my chair towards his until they came together with an audible click. He brushed his lips against the inside of my wrist. I noticed dispassionately that my pulse quickened with pleasure. He smiled at me again. “But you will still have to be punished. This is the second time you have defied me and I can not let it go again. I have my reputation to consider.”
He tilted his head slightly and gave me a considering look. “Now let’s see...” He said. “It will have to be an appropriate punishment so that you will remember...” He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on my wrist. His glance wandered down to his other hand where he still held the strange lacy net he had woven from my hair. “Yes, that will do nicely.” He smiled. “Turn your head Angel to look at the door and don’t move until I say so.”
I glanced down at his hand then back up into his eyes, then turned my head to face the door. I felt his fingers comb through my hair.
“Ow!” I jumped a bit with surprise but did not turn my head.
“Hold still Angel.”
“What are you? Ow!”
“If you are going to make such a fuss over your hair, the least I can do is make sure it serves some useful function. Ah yes, these and these.”
“Ow!”
“Quiet! You didn’t make this much noise when I was really hurting you.”
“Well, you were strangling me at the time. Eeep!”
“You squawk like a chicken.”
“Those were baby hairs.” I could tell the lesson was over and he was just enjoying himself now.
“You mean like these?”
I hissed painfully and gripped the arms of my chair tightly. “What exactly is it that you are going to do with my hair?”
“Show you in a minute. Almost done.” He was actually humming a tune under his breath. “I like the reddish gold ones they are like blood on new copper.”
“Glimpt!”
“They weave in nicely with the gold and brown. Oh, here’s a grey one. Shall I pluck it for you?”
“Yes, I’ve named it Alucard.”
“Then we’ll just leave it there shall we? Here are two more.”
“They are all named Alucard. Take as many of the grey ones as you want.”
“Hmm. No, they are too stiff and lifeless. I like the others so full of light.” He yanked out a few more and swung his arm around to show them to me. “See? Walter’s right, you do have pretty hair. The strands are very fine, very reflective. Good for weaving and holding power. OK, done. You can move now.”
“Good. Ow!”
“Still needed a couple more.”
“That felt like more than a couple.”
“Squawks like a chicken, squeaks like a rat, gibbers like a monkey. Do you actually make any human noises?”
I turned to see what he was doing, rubbing my tender scalp. Andrew should have no trouble with those connections now, I thought wryly. He was weaving the new hairs into the lacy net giving it layers and making the pattern more and more complex. He had resumed his humming. His fingers were moving impossibly fast.
“Poor Walter.” He mused. “You know he was really something once. Cruel, cunning, arrogant. He knew no fear. He waded through hordes of the undead and killed without quarter.
"He was quite a sight to watch in action. 14 years old and both mortals and eldritch quaked in fear at the thought of him. The carnage was glorious. He truly was the 'Angel of Death'.
"Those were good times. What fun we had.” He smiled fondly at the memory .
“14?”
“Yes, he was beautiful. Full of horror and rage. And oh how he used that rage Angel. Took that bitterness and betrayal and the rape of his childhood and turned it into a powerful and determined hatred. He tore though Europe raining down death and destruction. They fell by the score and still there was never enough blood to slake his thirst.
"And the games Angel, the games we played. He was a master. One of only two humans who ever came close to beating me. What a magnificent vampire he would have made.
"But he wasted it, threw it all away and for what? For honour? A misplaced sense of duty to this house?
“Honour.” He spat out the word distastefully. “It was the one, so-called higher human virtue I never seemed able to cure him of. I blame all of those books that woman gave him to read about King Arthur.
He knew he was different. That others did not seem to relish the violence as much as he. So he sought to change his very nature by chaining himself to some ridiculous and impossible code of ethics instead of accepting and embracing who and what he truly was.”
“Which was?” I asked tightly.
“A born predator. A beautiful and vicious killing machine.”
“He was a boy!” I said angerly, trying hard to fight back the tears. “Who does this to a boy!? Turns him over to a vampire, teaches him to kill?”
“He was feral when we found him Angel. Life is cruel to the weak. He had already seen more horrors than you can imagine. He already knew how to kill.”
“So instead of helping him heal, he was given to a monster?”
“I assure you he was an eager pupil. We were well suited as companions. Monsters together. I think he even loved me a little.”
“What kind of a monster would do such a thing?” What kind of a bastard had the Lord of Hellsing been?
“Monster enough to control us both. Monster enough to kill other monsters. You cry for him Angel? Do you shed your tears for Walter? You should. Not for what he was but for what he should have been.”
“No, I weep for the boy.”
“Why? We were wolves together. Sharp and fierce. It was his own pathetic need to ‘ennoble’ himself that turned him into a dog so that he could better serve his master. So what is he now? An old, infirm hound lying in the hall. Nearly toothless, barely able serve. Too meek to even beg bones from the table.”
“Stop it!”
“I only speak the truth.”
“You pervert the truth to be cruel.”
“And you rise too easily to the bait. Look at you. Crying for a child who has been dead for decades. No matter, it suits my needs today.” He said as he reached up and wiped at my tears with the net he had woven from my hair. “Yes.” He said. “Tears of self pity and pain are useless to me but empathy and compassion, these hold great power.”
“Observe Angel.” He spread out his hand, opening up the ‘cloth’. Its pattern was both intricate and open, layered and flat like some magical spider web. It was amazing. And my tears, instead of soaking into my hair making it dark and damp, had beaded like morning dew and were glinting softly in the dim light. He flexed his fingers and twisted his wrist and the tears slid along the strands glittering like jewels. Reflecting, making the copper and gold highlights gleam.
“You see Angel. How I can create beauty from your pain? You are soft and weak but I can use you. Can use your tears." He stroked my cheek fondly. “I may be cruel Angel but I speak the truth. I can not feel compassion but if I did I would imagine that it would be hurtful to hear such terrible things about one’s friends. So, if I were to tell you the story of how your dear Captain Burnadett lost his eye...”
I glared at him.
“No. Not that one. You don’t love him enough yet. Besides, children are your weakness aren’t they?”
"......."
“Did the Police Girl ever tell how she lost her parents?”
“Don’t!”
“What she had to watch them do to her mother?”
And so I cried for Seras. Cried for her pain and gave my tears to Alucard because vampires do not feel compassion. Vampires do not cry.
Friday, December 19, 2008
LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXIV
By 11:30 that night, both Seras and I were tired, dirty and out of sorts. Seras had been reamed out by Walter for laying hands on a co-worker and he had made her field strip the Baron and reassemble it five times to teach her some patience, telling her that next time he would make her polish the silver. This made her late for weapons practice and so the commander made her run the obstacle course twice to teach her punctuality. I don’t know about patience and punctuality but she certainly was pooped.
I, on the other hand, had gotten off fairly lightly with Walter who, for the most part, seemed to wonder out loud how two grown women could be so utterly fierce in defending each other and yet so seemingly incapable of standing up for themselves.
Unfortunately, any slack Walter had cut me was more than compensated for in cruelty by Alucard later that evening. He said I was far too distracted and if I didn’t start focusing he would find extremely unpleasant ways to snap me out of my disgustingly good mood and damn well teach me to concentrate. Then of course, he proceeded to do so.
“You stupid girl. Whatever do you have to be happy about?” He asked as I picked myself up off of the floor.
“I...” I said.
“Shut up.” He said annoyed. “It was a rhetorical question.” And then proceeded to tear into my mind.
“Your Hair?” He spat. “You are all happy and grateful to Walter because he would not let them cut your hair?!!” He placed his hands on my shoulders stroking the front of my throat with his thumbs. “Angel, you wound me.” He said softly.
I looked up at him confused.
He bent down and whispered in my ear. “I give you your life and the lives of those children. I give you my blood. Offer you the dark secrets of the gods. I give you my time and try to train you into something useful. I give you all of these gifts and are you grateful? Do you focus and train?” His hands tightened fingers digging into my shoulders. “No. You show no commitment. You see no gifts, only an ordeal. Something to tolerate until I release you to play with that stupid police girl and those ridiculous cannon fodder meat sacks you sing to in the barracks.” Indignant words formed on my tongue but I forced them back. He wanted me angry. Wanted me frightened.
He loosened his grip and I thought he was going to push me away in disgust but instead he slid one of his hands up the back of my neck and twined his fingers into my hair. “And Walter.” He said yanking on my hair, bending my neck and forcing back my head so that I was staring right up into those soulless, red eyes. “What has Walter ever done for you beyond a servants duty? A few moldy books and a cup of tea and your filled with gratitude? He stops one stupid haircut and suddenly he is some hero? You choose him as your guide? I am your teacher, not he. You are mine to train. I should tear every single hair from your ungrateful little head.” He said, yanking back even harder on my hair.
I hissed in a short painful breath but did not speak.
“Have you nothing to say Angel? Do you deny that you are nothing more than a sad, whiny, pathetic little nothing of a creature on whom I am wasting my time? Have you anything to say to convince me that you are anything but useless?”
I bit my lip.
“Well?” He demanded.
“How am I supposed to be of use to you if you will not tell me what you want? How am I to train if you won't tell me what it is I am to accomplish?” I said as calmly as I could. I was angry and afraid but knew yelling would only lead to more pain. “How can I use my gifts if you won't even tell me what they are?”
“Paugh! Idiot girl, you don’t think. How can I teach you if you are not ready to learn? Why should I give you power if you are not capable of keeping it? You are like the child who wants to be given cake but will not learn to bake it. Stupid and spoiled!” He pulled his hand abruptly away from my head taking a good hunk of hair with it. My eyes watered but I did not cry out.
He gave me an appraising look then placed his hands back on my shoulders and began running his thumbs along my collar bone. “Think Angel, think. What is it that I give you here? What lesson do I teach?” His thumbs ran up again along my throat coming to rest gently on either side of my windpipe.
Fear? I thought. No. Fear is too easy for him. He can get that from anyone.
“What is it that I give you Angel? It’s a simple question.” He dug his fingertips into my shoulder blades, his thumbs began pressing into my throat.
“Pain.” I said between gritted teeth “You give me pain.”
“Yes Angel,” he said smiling, “but why? Why do I give you pain?”
Because you are an evil sadistic bastard, I thought but did not say. He heard it anyway. His smile broadened a bit. “Yes Angel but what lesson does it teach?” He dug his fingers in deeper and pressed harder against my larynx. “What is the lesson?”
Stay calm and think. “To stay on guard?” I asked.
“No, idiot! You already know that one. Stop guessing and tell me. You know the answer.”
His thumbs pressed harder. I was having trouble breathing. I struggled not to panic. What was the lesson? What did he want from me? The pain was becoming unbearable. I had to focus my mind and think. There was no way to stop the pain or fight it, he was too strong. I had to find a way through it, past it so I could not let it distract me so I could concentrate... Oh God it hurts I can’t take it!
Something in my brain snapped. Survival instincts kicked in and suddenly I was there. At the bottom, clinging to my emotional bedrock . Staring at the cruelly simple answer.
He was chocking me so hard now that I could not speak, I could only gurgle. I was close to passing out, everything was going black but I did not panic. I knew. I knew the answer.
I tightened my grip on the core of all that it was that made me Corrine and allowed my self to bend and flow as I was buffeted by the pain. The blackness rolled and tumbled all around me like a riptide but I just clung to that bedrock and let it flow over me, through me, past me. I could hear the music in my head again so I quietly hummed along. No I will not, no I will not. Not go qui-et-ly.
The music grew louder. Shafts of light began to penetrate the darkness. Alucard’s face swam into view. The blood was pounding in my ears in time with the music. Not go quietly, no, no! Not go quietly, no, no! Not go qui-et-ly.
I calmly reached out and placed a hand against his chest looking into his eyes. "Pain", I thought, "is to be endured"
“Yes Angel.” He breathed. A gleam of pride entered his eye. "You begin to understand."
He did not release me but instead pulled me closer to him, placing his forehead against mine as he had done the other night, enfolding me in the dark curtain of his hair. "I have found much pleasure in your fear, much pleasure in your pain but how much more delicious you are in your strength Angel. How brightly you will shine for me through the pain. Like a beacon in a storm. It will rage down on your head but you will endure. You will call them to you Angel. You will call them and not be afraid. "
His hands slowly relaxed their grip. I found myself able to breathe again. I stumbled back a bit. I was dizzy but elated by his approval. It may seem odd but much as I am inclined to follow Walter about like a puppy, during these sessions, it is at Alucard’s feet I sit and he is the master.
How craven to think of oneself as a dog.
Perhaps this, more than anything else, is why I fear and avoid him. It is disturbing to so desperately wish to please someone who is so horribly cruel to you but this is part of the nature of the vampire. So terrifying when they are angry so attractive when they are pleased. All of their moods so disturbingly seductive to us mere mortals once we are in their thrall.
How horrible it must be for Seras to feel his constant displeasure. How strong Sir Integra must be to not only resist but to control him. As I struggled with my desire to please him, I felt new respect for that woman. She is stronger than I.
“Yes Angel?” He said. He was not looking at me, he had begun playing with the hair he had pulled from my head. Wrapping the strands around his fingers, weaving them into an impossibly intricate pattern.
“Your right you know about my being ungrateful.” I said.
He glanced up at me then back down at his work saying nothing.
“I mean you did warn me and I did promise .... I’m sorry.”
He snorted. “Don’t apologize to vampires Angel, it sets a bad precedent.”
“Yes but you’re my ... teacher.” I shuttered, I had almost said ‘master’.
He cocked an eyebrow at me then went back to work.
“I should work harder.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Besides the fact that you are unbelievably cruel and won’t tell me what it is I am supposed to be learning?”
“Irrelevant”
I took a shot. “I’m lazy?”
“True, but too easy. Try again.”
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate but my mind would not stay put. Random thoughts and emotions kept popping up and clamoring for my attention. I have always been a bit distractable but lately it seemed I was totally adrift, both mentally and emotionally. The only time it seemed I was truly able to focus for any period of time was when Alucard was “training” me and that was because I was usually terrified and or in a great deal of pain. As Walter said, pain is an excellent training tool.
I sneaked a peek at Alucard. He was being disturbingly calm and patient, seemingly engrossed in his task, which meant I had better come up with a good answer soon or it would not go well for me. Experience had taught me that the more reasonable or nice he was, the more dangerous my life became. Overall, I preferred it when he was just mildly annoyed or disgusted with me.
I sighed and clacked my teeth with frustration. He was being so maddeningly quiet and patient it was making me jumpy.
He cocked an eyebrow and looked up at me once more. “Drawing a blank are we Angel?” He asked.
My heart jumped up into my throat. I better think fast or this would not end well for me. I shivered under that calm gaze, his fingers weaving back and forth, back and forth. I swallowed painfully. Why was I having so much trouble concentrating? I knew I should spend more time preparing for my sessions but I just couldn’t seem to focus. My mind and emotions were constantly all over the map so to speak.
Perhaps it was the trauma of the theater resurfacing or the physical stress of the tests they kept running in the lab or my overall terror of Alucard’s teaching methods. I just didn’t know why I couldn’t seem to control my mind or emotions anymore.
“Oh that.” He said dismissively as if I had spoken these thoughts aloud. “That’s just your hormones. I’ve been adjusting the levels in you glands. Nothing to worry about.”
“You what!?”
“Just a bit of tinkering with your brain chemistry, that’s all.” He said with a wicked grin.
“You’ve been messing around with my brain chemistry?”
“Just adjusting the hormonal levels.”
“My brain chemistry? Your messing up my brain chemistry!?”
“And your thyroid. You should thank me by the way for all that weight you’ve been losing.”
“Thank you? Thank you????!!!!”
“Your welcome. Here you thought it was all those stupid walks with Walter but it was me.” He said, his grin turning positively evil.
“Why would you do this? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “It was more fun this way.”
“Fun? I’ve been an emotional train wreck!”
“That’s what made it so amusing.”
“I thought I was going insane!”
“Again, amusing. Your not going insane Angel, your just going through puberty.”
“You!” I said. “You are such a...” Words failed me. How could I possibly insult him? What could I say that wasn’t so obviously the truth? ‘Monster?’ ‘Evil bastard?’ ‘Horrible puss filled lesion disfiguring the face of the earth?’ No, he’d like that one too much.
Why was I even surprised? He was a vampire after all. A horrible undead abomination. Why wouldn’t he delight in causing me emotional distress? But still, someone should have... A thought stuck me.
“Does Sir Integra know about this?” I wanted to know just how many people were screwing with me.
“She can read a medical chart as well as the next person.”
“Yes, but does she know?”
He shrugged noncommittally
“The lab staff? Walter?”
“I’m sure Walter has figured it out by now. He’s quite clever you know.”
And if Walter knows it, Sir Integra knows it. I thought, flushing with anger and embarrassment. Why didn’t they tell me?
"Why should they tell you? Does the scientist tell the lab rat when he is spiking the cheese? Why bother?"
“I, am not, a lab rat! And you..., wait a moment.”
“Trouble with adjectives again my little rodent?”
“What? No. Wait! Are you reading my thoughts?”
“You're very slow today Angel. I must not be beating you enough."
"But you are aren't you? Your reading my thoughts."
"So? I've read them before."
"Yes but this feels different. More like talking instead of..."
"My ripping it out of your head?"
“Yes.”
“Yes, I will miss that part.”
“And I could hear you too but not like before. Not foggy and confusing.”
“That is because you are no longer being ensorceled, no longer being compelled.”
“Is that why you are changing my brain chemistry So that I would no longer have to be compelled in order for me to send or hear thoughts?”
“No, my blood running within you gives you this power. You have always had it.”
“But then why are you messing with my hormo...”
“No, no Angel. Don’t be distracted by the trivial. You are missing the point. Asking the wrong question.”
“Fine, then what is the right question?”
“You should be asking me why, if you have had this power all along, have you not been able to use it.”
The was a pregnant pause as he looked at me expectantly.
Sigh. “Why Alucard, if I have had this power all along, have I not been able to use it?”
“Excellent question Angel. Because you have finally decided to listen instead of fighting me all of the time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You have some natural resistance to the command voice.”
“Command voice?”
“A form of ensorcelment. A vampire uses it to compel others to obey his commands. Now shut up and listen.”
“Sorry.”
“You had some natural resistance to the voice. That, and your strange, peevish attachment to those children, helped you to fight back in the theatre.”
“There was something else too. ...A voice...”
“Interrupt me again Angel and I will break your arm in five places.’
“Sor..eep!” I clapped my hand over my mouth. He narrowed his eyes but continued.
“When I gave you my blood, it increased your sensitivity to the presence. Had I taken you blood in turn, you would have become one of my undead servants. Totally under my command. You would have instinctively known how to listen and obey but as I left you alive and, for the most part human, you maintain your free will and therefore must be... coaxed into using your powers."
I frowned, wanting to ask him what he meant by ‘for the most part human’ but not daring to interrupt. Sensing that I would not fall into so obvious a trap, he continued his lecture.
"Humans, you see, have a much larger portion of their brains than they would care to admit which is run by a gibbering monkey. It can be useful at times, telling them not to get into the car with that stranger or walk into the tiger cage, even to lie or be selfish when it is to their advantage. The problem arises when the monkey and the rational mind come into conflict. Especially when you need to do something which seems to fly in the face of self-preservation.”
“Like allowing a vampire into your mind?” Oops!
“Exactly. It is a foolish thing to do. A vampire is a predator. You are its prey. The monkey yells and gibbers at you to stop. It is even harder for you because of your increased sensitivity to the presence. Being ensorceled or even just being near the undead, triggers a reaction. It does not matter if you are a willing participant, your body and mind will still instinctively fight back against the perceived threat.
"The human mind is not designed to hold these sorts of powers. Attempting to use them forces your brain to develop new pathways. New methods of thought. This causes pain. These powers also tap into and force you to look at portions of your psyche most humans don’t even wish to acknowledge exists. Impulses, thoughts and emotions of which Freud’s concept of the Id barely even begun to brush the surface. This causes you fear. It is this pain and this fear that causes your monkey to howl. Stopping you on the brink of using your gifts.
"With a ghoul, it is simple. There is no free will, just an empty vessel to be filled as I choose. With a vampire, there is some free will but my command and their bloodlust leads them to their darker nature. There is no pain, they have only to embrace it.
"You, Angel, have no such luxury. To find your powers you will have to walk the path of pain and fear. As you did tonight, you have to find a way past it and tap into your core, the part of you that can not be moved, in order to find the strength to tap into your power.
"Ironically it was the monkey part of your brain which showed you the way this time. You were in so much pain and fear that your very survival depended on your finding the answer you sought. Your instincts finally kicked in to protect you and so you found your core. From there you could face all that you are without judgement or fear.
"The pain, as you said, is to be endured but you must banish your fear and release much of your free will in order to let me show you your powers.
"So, there it is Angel. Pain is a prerequisite. Are you still willing to continue?”
“I have a choice?”
"No, but I like to foster the illusion.”
“...”
“Oh Angel, it will be exquisite. I have such plans for you.”
There was a hint of tender anticipation in his voice which frightened me far worse than anything else he had said so far.
“Now come here Angel.” He said and I began to step towards him. “I seem to recall that you interrupted me.”
I, on the other hand, had gotten off fairly lightly with Walter who, for the most part, seemed to wonder out loud how two grown women could be so utterly fierce in defending each other and yet so seemingly incapable of standing up for themselves.
Unfortunately, any slack Walter had cut me was more than compensated for in cruelty by Alucard later that evening. He said I was far too distracted and if I didn’t start focusing he would find extremely unpleasant ways to snap me out of my disgustingly good mood and damn well teach me to concentrate. Then of course, he proceeded to do so.
“You stupid girl. Whatever do you have to be happy about?” He asked as I picked myself up off of the floor.
“I...” I said.
“Shut up.” He said annoyed. “It was a rhetorical question.” And then proceeded to tear into my mind.
“Your Hair?” He spat. “You are all happy and grateful to Walter because he would not let them cut your hair?!!” He placed his hands on my shoulders stroking the front of my throat with his thumbs. “Angel, you wound me.” He said softly.
I looked up at him confused.
He bent down and whispered in my ear. “I give you your life and the lives of those children. I give you my blood. Offer you the dark secrets of the gods. I give you my time and try to train you into something useful. I give you all of these gifts and are you grateful? Do you focus and train?” His hands tightened fingers digging into my shoulders. “No. You show no commitment. You see no gifts, only an ordeal. Something to tolerate until I release you to play with that stupid police girl and those ridiculous cannon fodder meat sacks you sing to in the barracks.” Indignant words formed on my tongue but I forced them back. He wanted me angry. Wanted me frightened.
He loosened his grip and I thought he was going to push me away in disgust but instead he slid one of his hands up the back of my neck and twined his fingers into my hair. “And Walter.” He said yanking on my hair, bending my neck and forcing back my head so that I was staring right up into those soulless, red eyes. “What has Walter ever done for you beyond a servants duty? A few moldy books and a cup of tea and your filled with gratitude? He stops one stupid haircut and suddenly he is some hero? You choose him as your guide? I am your teacher, not he. You are mine to train. I should tear every single hair from your ungrateful little head.” He said, yanking back even harder on my hair.
I hissed in a short painful breath but did not speak.
“Have you nothing to say Angel? Do you deny that you are nothing more than a sad, whiny, pathetic little nothing of a creature on whom I am wasting my time? Have you anything to say to convince me that you are anything but useless?”
I bit my lip.
“Well?” He demanded.
“How am I supposed to be of use to you if you will not tell me what you want? How am I to train if you won't tell me what it is I am to accomplish?” I said as calmly as I could. I was angry and afraid but knew yelling would only lead to more pain. “How can I use my gifts if you won't even tell me what they are?”
“Paugh! Idiot girl, you don’t think. How can I teach you if you are not ready to learn? Why should I give you power if you are not capable of keeping it? You are like the child who wants to be given cake but will not learn to bake it. Stupid and spoiled!” He pulled his hand abruptly away from my head taking a good hunk of hair with it. My eyes watered but I did not cry out.
He gave me an appraising look then placed his hands back on my shoulders and began running his thumbs along my collar bone. “Think Angel, think. What is it that I give you here? What lesson do I teach?” His thumbs ran up again along my throat coming to rest gently on either side of my windpipe.
Fear? I thought. No. Fear is too easy for him. He can get that from anyone.
“What is it that I give you Angel? It’s a simple question.” He dug his fingertips into my shoulder blades, his thumbs began pressing into my throat.
“Pain.” I said between gritted teeth “You give me pain.”
“Yes Angel,” he said smiling, “but why? Why do I give you pain?”
Because you are an evil sadistic bastard, I thought but did not say. He heard it anyway. His smile broadened a bit. “Yes Angel but what lesson does it teach?” He dug his fingers in deeper and pressed harder against my larynx. “What is the lesson?”
Stay calm and think. “To stay on guard?” I asked.
“No, idiot! You already know that one. Stop guessing and tell me. You know the answer.”
His thumbs pressed harder. I was having trouble breathing. I struggled not to panic. What was the lesson? What did he want from me? The pain was becoming unbearable. I had to focus my mind and think. There was no way to stop the pain or fight it, he was too strong. I had to find a way through it, past it so I could not let it distract me so I could concentrate... Oh God it hurts I can’t take it!
Something in my brain snapped. Survival instincts kicked in and suddenly I was there. At the bottom, clinging to my emotional bedrock . Staring at the cruelly simple answer.
He was chocking me so hard now that I could not speak, I could only gurgle. I was close to passing out, everything was going black but I did not panic. I knew. I knew the answer.
I tightened my grip on the core of all that it was that made me Corrine and allowed my self to bend and flow as I was buffeted by the pain. The blackness rolled and tumbled all around me like a riptide but I just clung to that bedrock and let it flow over me, through me, past me. I could hear the music in my head again so I quietly hummed along. No I will not, no I will not. Not go qui-et-ly.
The music grew louder. Shafts of light began to penetrate the darkness. Alucard’s face swam into view. The blood was pounding in my ears in time with the music. Not go quietly, no, no! Not go quietly, no, no! Not go qui-et-ly.
I calmly reached out and placed a hand against his chest looking into his eyes. "Pain", I thought, "is to be endured"
“Yes Angel.” He breathed. A gleam of pride entered his eye. "You begin to understand."
He did not release me but instead pulled me closer to him, placing his forehead against mine as he had done the other night, enfolding me in the dark curtain of his hair. "I have found much pleasure in your fear, much pleasure in your pain but how much more delicious you are in your strength Angel. How brightly you will shine for me through the pain. Like a beacon in a storm. It will rage down on your head but you will endure. You will call them to you Angel. You will call them and not be afraid. "
His hands slowly relaxed their grip. I found myself able to breathe again. I stumbled back a bit. I was dizzy but elated by his approval. It may seem odd but much as I am inclined to follow Walter about like a puppy, during these sessions, it is at Alucard’s feet I sit and he is the master.
How craven to think of oneself as a dog.
Perhaps this, more than anything else, is why I fear and avoid him. It is disturbing to so desperately wish to please someone who is so horribly cruel to you but this is part of the nature of the vampire. So terrifying when they are angry so attractive when they are pleased. All of their moods so disturbingly seductive to us mere mortals once we are in their thrall.
How horrible it must be for Seras to feel his constant displeasure. How strong Sir Integra must be to not only resist but to control him. As I struggled with my desire to please him, I felt new respect for that woman. She is stronger than I.
“Yes Angel?” He said. He was not looking at me, he had begun playing with the hair he had pulled from my head. Wrapping the strands around his fingers, weaving them into an impossibly intricate pattern.
“Your right you know about my being ungrateful.” I said.
He glanced up at me then back down at his work saying nothing.
“I mean you did warn me and I did promise .... I’m sorry.”
He snorted. “Don’t apologize to vampires Angel, it sets a bad precedent.”
“Yes but you’re my ... teacher.” I shuttered, I had almost said ‘master’.
He cocked an eyebrow at me then went back to work.
“I should work harder.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Besides the fact that you are unbelievably cruel and won’t tell me what it is I am supposed to be learning?”
“Irrelevant”
I took a shot. “I’m lazy?”
“True, but too easy. Try again.”
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate but my mind would not stay put. Random thoughts and emotions kept popping up and clamoring for my attention. I have always been a bit distractable but lately it seemed I was totally adrift, both mentally and emotionally. The only time it seemed I was truly able to focus for any period of time was when Alucard was “training” me and that was because I was usually terrified and or in a great deal of pain. As Walter said, pain is an excellent training tool.
I sneaked a peek at Alucard. He was being disturbingly calm and patient, seemingly engrossed in his task, which meant I had better come up with a good answer soon or it would not go well for me. Experience had taught me that the more reasonable or nice he was, the more dangerous my life became. Overall, I preferred it when he was just mildly annoyed or disgusted with me.
I sighed and clacked my teeth with frustration. He was being so maddeningly quiet and patient it was making me jumpy.
He cocked an eyebrow and looked up at me once more. “Drawing a blank are we Angel?” He asked.
My heart jumped up into my throat. I better think fast or this would not end well for me. I shivered under that calm gaze, his fingers weaving back and forth, back and forth. I swallowed painfully. Why was I having so much trouble concentrating? I knew I should spend more time preparing for my sessions but I just couldn’t seem to focus. My mind and emotions were constantly all over the map so to speak.
Perhaps it was the trauma of the theater resurfacing or the physical stress of the tests they kept running in the lab or my overall terror of Alucard’s teaching methods. I just didn’t know why I couldn’t seem to control my mind or emotions anymore.
“Oh that.” He said dismissively as if I had spoken these thoughts aloud. “That’s just your hormones. I’ve been adjusting the levels in you glands. Nothing to worry about.”
“You what!?”
“Just a bit of tinkering with your brain chemistry, that’s all.” He said with a wicked grin.
“You’ve been messing around with my brain chemistry?”
“Just adjusting the hormonal levels.”
“My brain chemistry? Your messing up my brain chemistry!?”
“And your thyroid. You should thank me by the way for all that weight you’ve been losing.”
“Thank you? Thank you????!!!!”
“Your welcome. Here you thought it was all those stupid walks with Walter but it was me.” He said, his grin turning positively evil.
“Why would you do this? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “It was more fun this way.”
“Fun? I’ve been an emotional train wreck!”
“That’s what made it so amusing.”
“I thought I was going insane!”
“Again, amusing. Your not going insane Angel, your just going through puberty.”
“You!” I said. “You are such a...” Words failed me. How could I possibly insult him? What could I say that wasn’t so obviously the truth? ‘Monster?’ ‘Evil bastard?’ ‘Horrible puss filled lesion disfiguring the face of the earth?’ No, he’d like that one too much.
Why was I even surprised? He was a vampire after all. A horrible undead abomination. Why wouldn’t he delight in causing me emotional distress? But still, someone should have... A thought stuck me.
“Does Sir Integra know about this?” I wanted to know just how many people were screwing with me.
“She can read a medical chart as well as the next person.”
“Yes, but does she know?”
He shrugged noncommittally
“The lab staff? Walter?”
“I’m sure Walter has figured it out by now. He’s quite clever you know.”
And if Walter knows it, Sir Integra knows it. I thought, flushing with anger and embarrassment. Why didn’t they tell me?
"Why should they tell you? Does the scientist tell the lab rat when he is spiking the cheese? Why bother?"
“I, am not, a lab rat! And you..., wait a moment.”
“Trouble with adjectives again my little rodent?”
“What? No. Wait! Are you reading my thoughts?”
“You're very slow today Angel. I must not be beating you enough."
"But you are aren't you? Your reading my thoughts."
"Yes but this feels different. More like talking instead of..."
"My ripping it out of your head?"
“Yes.”
“Yes, I will miss that part.”
“And I could hear you too but not like before. Not foggy and confusing.”
“That is because you are no longer being ensorceled, no longer being compelled.”
“Is that why you are changing my brain chemistry So that I would no longer have to be compelled in order for me to send or hear thoughts?”
“No, my blood running within you gives you this power. You have always had it.”
“But then why are you messing with my hormo...”
“No, no Angel. Don’t be distracted by the trivial. You are missing the point. Asking the wrong question.”
“Fine, then what is the right question?”
“You should be asking me why, if you have had this power all along, have you not been able to use it.”
The was a pregnant pause as he looked at me expectantly.
Sigh. “Why Alucard, if I have had this power all along, have I not been able to use it?”
“Excellent question Angel. Because you have finally decided to listen instead of fighting me all of the time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You have some natural resistance to the command voice.”
“Command voice?”
“A form of ensorcelment. A vampire uses it to compel others to obey his commands. Now shut up and listen.”
“Sorry.”
“You had some natural resistance to the voice. That, and your strange, peevish attachment to those children, helped you to fight back in the theatre.”
“There was something else too. ...A voice...”
“Interrupt me again Angel and I will break your arm in five places.’
“Sor..eep!” I clapped my hand over my mouth. He narrowed his eyes but continued.
“When I gave you my blood, it increased your sensitivity to the presence. Had I taken you blood in turn, you would have become one of my undead servants. Totally under my command. You would have instinctively known how to listen and obey but as I left you alive and, for the most part human, you maintain your free will and therefore must be... coaxed into using your powers."
I frowned, wanting to ask him what he meant by ‘for the most part human’ but not daring to interrupt. Sensing that I would not fall into so obvious a trap, he continued his lecture.
"Humans, you see, have a much larger portion of their brains than they would care to admit which is run by a gibbering monkey. It can be useful at times, telling them not to get into the car with that stranger or walk into the tiger cage, even to lie or be selfish when it is to their advantage. The problem arises when the monkey and the rational mind come into conflict. Especially when you need to do something which seems to fly in the face of self-preservation.”
“Like allowing a vampire into your mind?” Oops!
“Exactly. It is a foolish thing to do. A vampire is a predator. You are its prey. The monkey yells and gibbers at you to stop. It is even harder for you because of your increased sensitivity to the presence. Being ensorceled or even just being near the undead, triggers a reaction. It does not matter if you are a willing participant, your body and mind will still instinctively fight back against the perceived threat.
"The human mind is not designed to hold these sorts of powers. Attempting to use them forces your brain to develop new pathways. New methods of thought. This causes pain. These powers also tap into and force you to look at portions of your psyche most humans don’t even wish to acknowledge exists. Impulses, thoughts and emotions of which Freud’s concept of the Id barely even begun to brush the surface. This causes you fear. It is this pain and this fear that causes your monkey to howl. Stopping you on the brink of using your gifts.
"With a ghoul, it is simple. There is no free will, just an empty vessel to be filled as I choose. With a vampire, there is some free will but my command and their bloodlust leads them to their darker nature. There is no pain, they have only to embrace it.
"You, Angel, have no such luxury. To find your powers you will have to walk the path of pain and fear. As you did tonight, you have to find a way past it and tap into your core, the part of you that can not be moved, in order to find the strength to tap into your power.
"Ironically it was the monkey part of your brain which showed you the way this time. You were in so much pain and fear that your very survival depended on your finding the answer you sought. Your instincts finally kicked in to protect you and so you found your core. From there you could face all that you are without judgement or fear.
"The pain, as you said, is to be endured but you must banish your fear and release much of your free will in order to let me show you your powers.
"So, there it is Angel. Pain is a prerequisite. Are you still willing to continue?”
“I have a choice?”
"No, but I like to foster the illusion.”
“...”
“Oh Angel, it will be exquisite. I have such plans for you.”
There was a hint of tender anticipation in his voice which frightened me far worse than anything else he had said so far.
“Now come here Angel.” He said and I began to step towards him. “I seem to recall that you interrupted me.”
Friday, November 28, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
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
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
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
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?
“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?
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