LETTERS TO HELLSING XXIX

“All right, yes, here.” Zelig said positioning me inside the entrance and waiving the others back a bit. “Now, quiet all of you! Are you ready?” He whispered to me.

“Yes. This is very exciting!” I whispered back.

He smiled and squeezed my hand then reached out to touch something hidden in the wall.

Nothing happened for a moment then, just audible over the sounds of the waterfall, came the soft strains of a harp. I held my breath trying to better hear the quiet melody. As I listened, the song grew louder and more complex as other instruments were woven in. I realized that I was beginning to distinguish shapes in the darkness. A flute joined in the song, trilling like a bird. Slowly, slowly the lights began to come up like the dawning of a new day. Shafts of light came down from the ceiling, sparkling off of the waterfalls and the crystal rock formations creating a dappled carpet on the floor of the cave.

The effect was stunning.

I realized I was still holding my breath. I expelled it the whispered, “Oh Zelig, it’s just lovely.”

I heard several affirmative sounds behind me.

Zelig smiled distantly, his eyes slightly feverish. “Wait,” he breathed “wait.” He reached out again and the “sun” began to set.

The music merged into night sounds and I found myself transported from my dappled little grove to a magical forest. The waterfall no longer flowed merrily but instead seemed to dance. The crystal formations no longer sparkled but burned softly with an inner fire. The pillar “trees” seemed to move and sway on some enchanted breeze. The marble glowed in the diffuse “moonlight” and the pool seemed to reflect starlight from above. It was one of the most magnificent things I had ever seen. It was truly magical.

I could not speak. I could only sigh with pleasure. It was so beautiful.

“Well?” He whispered.

I squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back, my expression conveying my opinion more eloquently than words ever could. He squeezed my hand again and smiled up at me. We stood there for a moment just marveling at his genius.

Eventually, there was a small strangled sound of despair as Stewart spotted the mangled ruins of his stereo on the work bench by the entrance. The spell was broken and everyone crowded around to congratulate Zelig. He gave my hand a final squeeze before we were forcibly separated by the friendly punches and rough back slaps of his comrades.

I wandered over to Stewart who was sifting sadly though the remains of his stereo only slightly mollified by the brownie Zelig had given him in way of apology.

“I don’t suppose you would let me buy you a new one?” I asked.

“Why, you didn’t destroy it?”

“Yes but I gave it to Zelig which, apparently, made its destruction a foregone conclusion.”

“I could have refused. Should have done but, to be honest, I kind of wanted to see what he would do. The man is insane but he is quite talented.”

“I don’t know about ‘insane’.”

“Take my word for it.”

“Come now.”

“Totally off his nut.”

I laughed and looked over at a beaming Zelig who stood accepting his due praise whilst doling out brownies like a benevolent dictator.

“What did Zelig do before he joined the squad?”

“Landscape architect.”

“In Algeria?”

“No, France. His mother was Algerian, his father is French. Zelig worked for his father’s company until artistic differences drove them apart.”

“Artistic differences?”

“Yes, his father felt that customer satisfaction was the cornerstone to good business.”

“And Zelig?”

“Zelig felt that if the customers even considered replanting one of his garden beds it was grounds for blowing up their car.”

“What!”

“Or house.”

“You’re joking of course.”

“I’m afraid I’m not. He’s the terrorist version of Frank Lloyd Wright.”

“But.”

“Corrine, we’re all damaged goods here in the Geese one way or another. We all had our own reasons for joining. Some of us are addicted to the danger, some are running from their past, others are just mean son’s of bitches but some of us,” he sighed and gestured to Zelig “some of us simply can not function in the main stream and have nowhere else to go.”

“Poor Zelig.” I sighed.

Stewart laughed. “I tell you a man is crazy and blows things up and you feel sorry for him?”

“Was anyone hurt in the explosions?”

“Well, no.”

“Then yes.”

“There’s your problem. You like people too much.”

“What’s wrong with liking people?”

“Nothing but liking the wrong people can be dangerous.”

“Like Zelig.”

“No, Zelig’s fine as long as he stays with us. Besides, you liked his work. You could shoot him in the foot now and he would still adore you.”

“Like you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Really?”

“No, but a certain girlfriend could prove to be hazardous.”

“Seras is my friend.” I snapped.

“I know, I like her too but is it truly wise to befriend a vampire?”

“Seras, is, my, friend.” I said angrily. Poking him in the chest to emphasize my point.

“Steady love, were just talkin'.”

A large hand came down on my shoulder. “Excuse me miss, is this man bothering you?” Asked Marks.

“No. He’s warning me off dangerous men.”

“Very wise. Was my name mentioned?”

“You were next on the list.” Quipped Stewart. “Right after…Oh, hello Zelig.”

“Stewart…Marks.” Zelig said nodding regally to them. “Corrine!” He beamed. “There you are.” He dropped his voice to a loud whisper. “I have to ask you something.” He took my hand and attempted to draw me away but Marks’ hand on my shoulder did not budge. He narrowed his eyes at Marks who gave him a slight smile.

Zelig sighed dramatically, leaned in close and whispered, “Do you have any more brownies?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh.” He said disappointed “Are you sure?”

“Afraid so.”

He sighed. “I didn’t get any.”

“But Zelig, I gave you the whole tray.”

“Yes but I was sharing them out with the fellows. Then there was only this nice big corner piece left and then that girl…” He said balefully.

“Her name is Seras.”

“That Seras, snatched it right out of my hand saying they were hers and wouldn’t give it back.”

“Oh Seras.” I sighed glancing over at her. She was sitting on a rock clutching the tray containing the last brownie and glaring defiantly in our direction. Most of the others had left her alone opting instead to go through the bag of snacks in search of easier prey. Except for corp. Sherman who could not seem to resist trying to sneak up behind her and snatch the last brownie. She backhanded him away without even looking. He landed on the ground with a thump laughing uproariously. Seras gripped the try even more tightly and continued to glare in our direction.

Zelig glared back petulantly at her. “Not even one.” He groused.

I sighed again turning to Stewart. “I don’t suppose?”

Zelig looked at him hopefully.

“Sorry no.” He said stuffing the rest of his brownie into his mouth.

Zelig huffed as Stewart waived a piece of broken stereo at him.

“I’m sorry Zelig.” I said. “But I actually did make them for Seras. But I promise to make lots more for you tomorrow night if you’d like for when you show Sir Integra and the rest of the staff your lovely work.”

“And they’d be for me?”

“Yes.”

“Extra walnuts?”

“Sure.”

“I want more of the cream cheese ones like you made last week.” Said Stewart.

“I wanted walnuts.”

“She can make both can’t she?”

The two of them looked at me expectantly.

“All right.”

“How about those blondie things? What were they called Marks?” Asked Zelig.

“Blondies.”

“Yes, some of those too.”

“Wait…”

“Yes some of those!” shouted Seras. “And the fudgie chippy ones as well.” Damn her and her uncanny hearing.

“Now hold on. I can’t…Oh Zelig you’re bleeding!”

Zelig glanced down at his arm. “It’s nothing.” He said.

“But you’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing. Now, about cookies…”

“Honestly it’s like dealing with a bunch of 4 year olds!” I muttered under my breath dragging Zelig over to the workbench where the light was better.

“Welcome to my world.” Said Marks.

“I don’t suppose you installed a first aid kit down here?”

Zelig sniffed disdainfully. “This is art, not some poncy municipal pool facility.”

The former lifeguard in me brindled but I remained calm. I removed the towel from my head and gently dabbed at the wound with a corner. “Hmmm, not too bad.” I said. I looked around. I had almost everything I needed. “I need alcohol, preferably hard liquor.”

“Excellent idea.” Said Marks pulling out a flask. “But perhaps you should wait till you’re finished with Rührkuchen here.”

“Tot umfallen kraut!” Growled Zelig.

“What is this, kindergarten at the Tower of Babel?” I said snatching the flask from Marks. I sniffed it’s contents.

“This will do. OK now Zelig, hold still.”

“Why?” Asked Zelig.

“No, wait!” said Marks.

I grinned evilly and tipped a liberal portion of the flask’s contents onto Zelig’s forearm.

Both men flinched.

“Damn, that burns. What the hell is it?”

“Damned expensive is what it is!” Growled Marks.

“Well, if you had a first aid kit down here,” I said sweetly “I wouldn’t need to use this.”

“You could have let him bleed.”

“I most certainly could not!” I said, gently cleaning the grease and dirt from around the cut with another corner of my towel.

“Anders should be doing this.” Grumped Marks. “It’s what we bloody pay him to do. Where the hell is he anyway?”

Stewart chuckled. “He took off as soon as he heard her singing."

“Well he’s still on call and he can bloody well get back here and slap a plaster on Herr Artist here!”

“That’s OK. I like the way she does it better.” Said Zelig as I fussed with his arm.

“Does it still sting?” I asked.

“A little.”

I blew gently on his arm to cool the burn.

“I think I’m in love.” Said Zelig.

“Damn it Anders, get your ass in here right now!” Shouted Marks.

Stewart laughed. “Corrine, you have to stop.”

“What? My mom used to do that.”

“Mind you own business.” Snapped Zelig. “So did mine.” He said patting my arm.

“I’m almost done.” I said. Reaching for the super glue.

“What’s that for?” Zelig asked suspiciously.

“Hopefully to glue your mouth shut.” Said Marks.

I smiled and shook my head then bent over and glued the wound shut.

“Your mother never did that.” Said Stewart.

“I like it!” Said Zelig poking at his arm.

“Pretty clever.” Said Marks. "Now give me back my flask. And just where the deuce have you been?” he said to Anderson who had come up behind me.

“Did you see what she did Anders?” Said Zelig, grinning and flexing his arm. “She glued me back together she did! You should try it.” He said tossing him the tube.

Anders caught it and stared at Zelig his eyes flashing but his face carefully neutral. “How very useful.” He said without inflection.

“You could have done it yourself if you’d been here instead of skulking about.” Snapped Marks. “She shouldn’t have to do your job.” Anders flinched a little at Marks’ tone but said nothing. He just stared down angrily at the tube in his hand.

I suddenly remembered that Anderson did not like me and this was not helping. “It was just a little cut.” I said quickly. “Mom stuff really. No big deal.”

He weighed the tube in the palm of his hand. “For little cuts yes?” He said quietly in that dead voice.

“Um, yes?”

“Not so good for ripped off limbs then?” He said bitterly, squeezing the tube.

“Well, no.”

“Perhaps I could use it on ghoul bites instead?” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with rage.

I choked and shook my head.

“No? Pity that.” He said, glaring at me.

I stumbled back a bit, shocked by his hostility. He seemed so full of anger and pain that I was not sure how to react. Resentment, compassion and a little bit of fear warred inside of me, my usual instinct to apologize and placate stumbling against the fact that, to the best of my knowledge, I had done absolutely nothing wrong. “I…I didn’t….” I took a deep breath and clutched my fisted hands against my stomach to hide their trembling. Don’t you dare cry Corrine! I thought and looked him in the eye. “Why?” I asked.

“What the hell are you playing at Anders?!” Said Zelig, stepping between us and bowing his chest. Stewart looked more puzzled than angry.

Anders dropped his head staring down at his hands, his jaw clenching and unclenching his lips quirking. He looked up at me his eyes full of pain and confusion. His lips moved but no words came out.

“That’s enough.” Said Marks quietly but firmly. “Anders, go see the captain about pulling a first aid kit from stores for down here.”

Anders’ face went blank. He turned mechanically and left without a sound.

“Zelig, you and Stewart clean up that mess on the work bench.”

“But.” Said Stewart.

“Now.” Said Marks.

Stewart shrugged and went to help Zelig.

“You," He said chucking me under the chin, “go brush your hair.’

I absently ran a hand through the tangled mass but said nothing. Marks turned his gaze to follow my confused one over to Anders. He shook his head. “He needs to figure out how to deal with this before it’s too late.”

I looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I seem to upset him greatly.” I said miserably.

Marks smiled sadly. “It’s not just you. It’s this place.” He said. “It’s like a hell for him. It’s driving him mad but he won’t leave. He won’t leave the men without a medic and who in his right mind would take the job?”

I looked back at Anders. Slow, horrifying comprehension dawning on me.

Hard enough to be a combat medic but to be a medic for a combat team which battled the undead? To have to watch your team get blown apart and ripped open. To have to decide at a moments notice whether to tend a wound or to administer the only mercy available to a friend or civilian with a ghoul bite, a bullet in the head. And if you make a mistake, you might be murdering an innocent or worse yet, spare them only to watch them rise up to kill and eat your men.

My mind wandered back to the theater. To the way he had looked at me. The way his hand kept moving to his holster. He had decided to shoot me but Alucard had not allowed it. I shivered with terror. He would have killed me, shot me in the head then and there but instead, here I was, standing in front to him alive and healthy and a constant reminder of all of those deaths and of how far from being a healer he had strayed.

“He knows that we don’t resent it.” Said Marks. “That any of us would rather take a bullet in the head than turn but knowing that is still a cold comfort when you’re the one who has to pull the trigger.”

“Oh, poor Anders.” I whispered. “How can he bear it?”

“He bears it because he has to. We all do.” He turned back to me. “Now don’t cry on me liebste.” He said, noticing my tears. “A river of tears couldn’t save the damned souls in this room.”

“I’m not crying, I’m leaking.” I said blotting my eyes on my sleeve. “I do that sometimes. Ask the captain.”

“Hmm.” He said handing me a tissue. “As you say. Now go see to that pet demon of yours before she breaks one of my men.”

I squeezed his arm and smiled at him. “Thank you, you’re very kind.”

“Slander and lies girl! I like you better when you are being mean. Now go away before you destroy my reputation.”

“Sir! Yes sir!” I barked throwing him a mock salute then scurrying away quickly before he could swat me.

LETTERSFROM HELLSING XXVIII

“He better not ruin my stereo.” Stewart whispered.

“Ruin how?” I whispered back. Zelig had hustled us back out beyond the cave entrance but was still within earshot.

“Give him anything with wires and he takes it apart. I can’t believe I let you talk me into giving it to him.”

“But it made him so happy.”

“Of course it made him happy. He always gets happy when he gets to take stuff apart.”

“Or blow stuff up.” Added Griffin “He likes to blow stuff up.”

“It was practically new.”

“Perhaps he wont take it apart too much.” I said hopefully. Stewart stared at me reproachfully. “It could happen.” I said less hopefully.

“Bête fille mon chanson.” Said Burnadett. “It is in many pieces by now. You should not have given it to him.”

Stewart groaned

“But he had these puppy dog eyes.” I said.

“And you shouldn’t have given him all of the brownies!” Griped Seras “Those were for us.”

“I’m sure he’ll share.”

“Bête, bête fille.”

“What?”

“You silly, silly girl.”

“I kept the wine though.” I said.

“Did I say silly? I meant clever. Pass it here.”

“Actually, it was Seras who brought the wine.” I confessed.

“And this is why we like her.” He said taking the bottle from me.

“So tell me about this ‘Titania’s Delight’.”

“Oh that?” Snorted Burnadett. “That was some folly of Zelig’s back in Bosnia. We had set up headquarters in this little hut in the hills. There was an abandoned fruit orchard behind and he took a fancy to it. Said it reminded him of this Shakespeare play.”

“A Midsummer’s Night Dream?”

"Yes, this is the one. Well, he began to muck about with it and I let him because there wasn’t anything needing blowing up at the time. I thought it would keep him from getting bored and taking apart all of the equipment but he started using up all of the detonation wire to string up these lights and then the backup generator went missing …”

“He was out of control.” Growled Marks.

“He meant well.”

“He took the bulbs out of every flashlight in the company. I had to sneak into Serbia and buy more on the black market before we could do any more night missions.”

“He is very single minded with his projects.” Confessed Burnadett.

“Obsessed more like.”

“It did look quite nice though, I have to admit.” Said Stewart. “When it was finished.”

“Like a little magic forest.” Agreed Burnadett.

“He even put in one of them fairy circles.” Said corp. Blaven.

“Sounds pretty.” Said Seras

“It was.” Said Stewart. “Until those two drove a tank through it.” He said gesturing towards Marks and Griffin.

“What!? Why?” I burst out.

Marks made a disgusted noise. “We had captured this tank during a counter offensive and thought it might come in handy. Captain told us to hide it so we hid it.”

“Right in the middle of Zelig’s orchard.” Quipped Stewart.

“We said we was sorry.” Said Griffin.

“In case you have forgotten. There was, in fact, a war going on? It was the best cover for miles.”

“Yes we know Marks” said Burnadett “but did you have to park it right on top of the fairy ring?”

“That was a pity.” Said Blaven “I rather liked the fairy circle.”

“Do you have any idea what flashlight bulbs go for on the Serbian black market?” Countered Marks.

“I would have docked his pay for it.”

“Because of us, you didn’t have to. He even got a little bonus after we sold off that tank to the Soviets.”

“Yes, well, that was nice.” Said Blaven.

Marks shrugged.

“You stole a tank?” I asked.

“Captured.” Corrected Marks.

“And sold it?”

“Well, it wouldn’t fit in the plane.”

“To the Soviets.”

“Seemed only fair seeing as how it was theirs in the first place.”

“You people scare me.”

“No we don’t girl, that is why we like you." Said Marks. “That, and other things.”

“Yes like those brownies you made.” Said Burnadett.

“Zelig had better share.” Said Stewart.

“Speaking of which,” said Seras “how much longer is this going to take? I’m getting cold.”

“Have some wine.” Said Burnadett offering his cup.

“I don’t get drunk you know.” She said.

“Ah, pity that. Well, best not waste it then.” He said taking the cup back from her hand and drinking it himself. “One should only buy drinks for girls to get them drunk.”

“But it’s my wine.” Said Seras tugging the bottle away from his grasp. “I bought it myself.”

“Even better.” He said. “Are you trying to get me drunk petit?” He took her hand in his. “Do you wish to take advantage of me?”

“What? No!” She said snatching back her hand. (I’m telling you, right through the wall someday) “I bought it for us, for Corrine and me!”

“Really?” He said looking slyly at me. I groaned inwardly. “So it our Corrine you wish to get drunk?” He looked at me again and winked. “I heartily approve.”

There was a chorus of approval and the bottle was shoved at me as Seras turned bright red from head to toe.

“I..” Stammered Seras.

“I’ve seen movies that start like this but I never imagined…”

“Fat chance Griffin.” I said.

“Oh but Corrine.” Said Stewart.

“Not going to happen.” I said firmly.

“Pity.” Sniffed Stewart.

“At least not while you lot are about.” I added evilly.

A string of boos and cat calls echoed through the chamber.

“And you.” I said turning to the captain. “You had better stop teasing her like that or no more wine for you!”

“Un défi ? This is a hard choice.”

“I mean it.” I said plucking the cup from his hand.

“Si jolie et si moyenne.” He stage whispered to Marks.

“Ja. Schon und mittlere. Ich muy sie sehr.”

“In English please.” I poked him.

“Ah, mon chanson, you are cruel to make me choose between two things that I love.”

“Rubbish.” I said tilting the neck of the bottle towards the floor.

“Well then,” He sighed.

And we will never know which he loved more, wine or teasing Seras because Zelig chose this exact moment to appear at the entrance and announce he was ready for us. Burnadett took advantage of my temporary distraction and snatching back the bottle with one hand and grabbing Seras with the other began herding us all toward Zelig. Before I could intervene, Zelig had captured my hand and was leading me toward the entrance of the cave.

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXVII

"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.

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?”