Only His

Chapter 1

Hello again. I just wish to warn everybody, this fic has a bit of a slow start, so if you just want sex scenes, you’ll have to come back later. Sorry
Disclaimer: I do not have any influence over the real Hellsing, old or new. Pity.


Seras leaned heavily on the doorframe to her cobbled room. She was exhausted from the mission, not only physically but psychologically as well. She knew she could not stand much more of this.
It wasn’t the FREAK that got to her though, as some of the other’s thought. In as much as she couldn’t comprehend why somebody would actively choose to be chipped, they didn’t bother her. The ghouls were not even human any more, and what she did was an act of mercy – Master told her that.

What was troubling her even now when the fight was over; was her complete inability to control the bloodlust that reared its ugly head at the scent of a battle. She used to be able to manage the beast inside of her, but now it was getting more and more difficult to stay cool and calm, because all she wanted to do was rip the enemy and her friends apart. The memory or the beast’s uncontrolled malice for everything living and the desire to destroy it all made her sick to her stomach.

Seras stumbled wearily from the doorframe over the icy stone floor, to her large bed at the other side. The journey, short as it was, stretched her to her limits and she collapsed gratefully on the mussed bed and curled under the covers. The sheets were cool, and there was a time when this would have bothered her, back when she still breathed, when the blood coursing through her veins was still warm, but now she didn’t mind – ever since Alucard had turned her, she never felt the cold much.

In fact, she never felt anything much. Pain was dulled, it was harder to feel the extremities of the weather and the regulation uniform that rubbed on her flesh didn’t seem so coarse anymore. Everything that made her uncomfortable as a human usually escaped her notice in immortality…Except for the hunger. As she eyed the red package sitting in the bucket the hunger flared up as if summoned. It was worse than any hunger a human could feel. It was a constant ache, not so much in her stomach as throughout her whole body. Every part of her begged for the sustenance that came on ice in a small plastic packet, and she suffered for it. Her mouth watered almost painfully and the saliva threatened to spill from her lips. She was tempted, oh was she tempted!

She envisaged drinking it, the cool yet hot feel of it slipping into her lips and over her tongue. The metallic sweetness trickling down her throat, flowing through her body. She felt the beast began to stir and her teeth lengthened, curving over her lips. She wanted this so much. She was sick of her weakness, of the constant starvation. She wanted to be able to be good for her Master, she wanted Him to be happy with her. She needed to drink the blood, to give in to her vampiric side, to become as He wants her to.
But she couldn’t.

This small human part of her cried “No! It’s wrong, you are a monster!” and helpless, that was what she listened to. She listened to it the last night, she listened to it the night before, and she listened to it now. The blood stained the white porcelain toilet bowl red as she flushed, and she watched it disappear with longing.

This weakness in her frustrated her, as it did when she was human. ‘Kitten’ they called her in her old squad, and a kitten she was. She didn’t want to be this kitten anymore, but she didn’t want to be the monster either. She was torn, and she flopped back on her bed irritably, and spitefully threw the covers on the floor. Take that Walter! She chuckled maliciously, and then she felt guilty so she picked them back up and arranged them neatly on the mattress in her coffin. The result looked a little too neat, but very cosy so she curled up cross-legged in the middle and hugged the pillow to her chest.

She wished she could talk to her Master, but His interest in her and her wellbeing was minimal. He talked to her as much as much necessary, but it didn’t go beyond that. He never checked on her or did anything she thought somebody should do with their fledgling.
He never seemed to care about her, and it drove her insane, for she cared about Him more than she cared to admit to anybody. But no matter what she wanted, whatever he felt for her it wasn’t affection, or even lust. In fact, it seems He almost went out of His way to avoid her.

The only time she even saw Him was when they were on missions together, and even then there was no conversation. She couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t comprehend Him and it drove her insane. Perhaps she was a disappointment to Him? She didn’t drink blood, and she was weak as far as vampire’s go.

But would He go so far as to hate her? This idea disturbed her and her nails began to absently take it out on the unsuspecting pillow in her lap. So caught up in her distress, Seras barely even noticed the feathers structuring and executing a successful escape through the rather large rip she had created. They flew all over the once neat coverlet and filled the air joyously until Seras noticed them. She temporarily forgot about her Master as she panicked at the mess covering her once tidy room, painstakingly rendered by Mr. Monocle himself.

She was going to get it.

In her irrational state, stuffing the feathers under the mattress seemed an exceptional idea, so this is what she did. Or rather, attempted to do. Unfortunately the feathers were far too hellbent on staying free (and getting her into trouble) to submit to her actions without a fight. She only succeeded in scattering them even further around the room in odd places - like in the cobwebs that had kept well hidden from Walter’s roving eye, and even a few in the toilet bowl.

She collapsed, defeated onto the mattress and sneezed as one feather tickled her nose. This was the worst bit, anticipating Walter’s inevitable discovery of the mess and the inevitable grievous injuries she will sustain soon afterwards. She wondered what it would be like to die, and then told herself she was going to find out soon enough. As if he could be conjured up by a mere thought she heard a footstep echo in her room. Oh well, it was a nice life while it lasted. Still, she wished she could have at least had an orgasm with somebody other than herself. Her reminiscence over past sexual rendezvous (or lack of them) was cut short with a chuckle that definitely was not Walter’s.

“Plucking pigeons, Police girl?” She raised her head and came face to face with the black clad thighs of the very vampire that had occupied her thoughts before the feather escapade. He looked down at her in great amusement, and her traitorous eyes focused on the one thing that seemed to be at perfect eye level. This of course, she knew was not something to be looking at, especially considering the large age difference between them both so she jumped up on to her knees and blushed whilst His grin widened and He seemed, if possible, even more amused than before.

“Poor Walter” He continued in that smooth voice of His, “It appears you have destroyed one of those lovely pillows. He won’t be very happy. Not very happy at all.”
Seras did not like the sound of that. Not in the slightest. “Please don’t tell him,” She begged. “I’ll clean it up! I promise!” She widened her eyes and puffed out her lower lip enough so she would look rather pathetic, and hopefully induce His sympathy.

He seemed to find this funny and chuckled slightly. “You look like a human child that just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is trying to avoid a spanking.”
She blushed embarrassedly, but smiled as well. Secretly she wondered whether He was the one thinking of giving her a spanking.

His eyes glinted “Perhaps. Perhaps not” He said, an answering smile creeping over His face. Her face reddened even more when she realised that He had heard her thought.
“But before I answer that, you have to answer the question I came to put to you”
“Of course, Master.” Seras nodded, willing her blush to go take a vacation on the Bahamas somewhere and leave her cheeks be.

“Have you drunk your blood?”

She knew that as soon as He asked, He knew the answer. More ever, He knew that she knew He knew, and His face darkened. She risked a look at His face and she saw His irritation. But she also noticed something there that wasn’t anger, and it looked suspiciously like disappointment. Her heart sunk.

He sighed, and her heart decided to plummet down into her feet somewhere.
“Why do you constantly disobey me, Police Girl? Is it really so hard to do one little thing in order to please me? You need it, you know you do.”

She couldn’t look at Him; she couldn’t bear to see the look on His face, so her eyes focused upon His patent leather shoes. They were a very nice shoe, she thought, not at all scuffed.

“Police Girl, I have not heard an answer.” His voice was like the crack of a whip. She knew she was trying His patience, so she haltingly tried to explain why she found the blood hard to drink. He listened politely, and then with growing frustration before silencing her with a growled “Police Girl! All of these excuses are irrelevant! Does the blood make you feel physically sick?”
She shook her head, eyes downcast.
“Do you have some form of allergic reaction to it?”
Another head shake.
Does it even taste bad?”
The very thought of it made her mouth water. She swallowed and quietly said “No.”
“Then there is no reason for you to not drink it. I refuse to hear pathetic, half hearted excuses from the human part of yourself that you have not yet put aside!” His voice was an animal growl, and the order just as brutal. It sent her spine to shivering.

“I will be checking on you to make sure you begin drinking. If you do not, the consequences will be dire.” And with that ominous warning, He disappeared into the shadows.

Seras was shaking slightly as He disappeared. She knew he would hold true to His word. He always did, that she knew. That was probably why he didn’t give it very often.
Slightly miserable, she sunk into bed and buried her face into the cotton rectangle that was once a slightly overstuffed feather pillow. Another feather made her sneeze again.

Seras snorted irritably and buried her face deeper into the pillow-come-flat-rectangle. Her mood didn’t have much of a chance of improving it seemed, so she took a deep breath and sighed loudly, just for the effect. She was preparing herself to mope about for the next day or so, when, just as she was drifting off, remembered that Alucard said He would be checking on her. Seras smiled happily, and completely forgot about her self imposed misery.