Monsters and Angels

Alucard stood on the hilltop, looking over the lonely cemetery. Long forgotten, long silent. The stones bore the ravages of ages, names and markings worn away by the fingers of time and elements. Such a sad, desolate place. He liked it immensely. The wind shifted and he caught the scent then, faint and moving. “Gunpowder and violets” he purred, his lips stretching into a grin.

It took him mere moments to locate the source, a tiny figure perched on broken, moss covered stone steps leading to a vault. He could make out no features as they were swathed in a long swirling coat. “You are not a vampire” he said simply. The hood fell back to reveal a young woman, still fresh with the bloom of life. “So I’m not” she agreed easily, “My name is Genova. You are the vampire Alucard”

Her body and scent indicated no fear of him or what she knew him to be. He cocked his head and smiled at her, “You are the child but not the childe” he murmured. Her delicate chin lifted a notch, “Not as yet. No”. He chuckled, “The mortal plaything of an ageless monster”. Her violet eyes narrowed, “You’ve no right to speak of him in such a way” she burst out.

Alucard shrugged, “Perhaps if I knew who ‘he’ was, I might be inclined to change my opinion”. Genova shrugged, turning her back on him and entered the vault. Senses tuned for danger, he followed. Within the smooth but dusty stone walls, the torches flared to life and he found himself staring down at a stone sarcophagus. The kind that had not been used in many centuries.

“Here” Genova called to him, pointing to the weathered stone plate, “See the name of my master”. Garnet orbs shot wide as the name became clear to him. Genova smiled, “Yes Alucard, behold the name of the man you first turned”.


Images filtered through his mind, places nearly forgotten beneath the detritus of ages. Stone keeps, bloodied swords and spears. Battlefields stretching before his eyes. And then the man. The man who’d fought shoulder to shoulder with him, held his secrets, held his throne and his country with him. A man not from his dark corner of the world. All without question.

The man he’d loved more than his own brother, the man who could have been his brother, who should have been. The one that had been brutally ripped from him through webs of treachery. The man he’d recovered only to find mortally wounded. So he’d given all that he’d been able to give. The gift of unlife and how the pious man had hated him for it.

“What have you done?” he had demanded, waking to find himself cold and unbreathing, “You have made me a spawn of evil!” Alucard had tried to reason with him. Evil hearts made evil vampires, but he’d been distraught and fled, Alucard had let him go. “I had heard that he faced the dawn a few years later, unable to remain as he was” he murmured. Had it been anyone else, Alucard would have scoffed, called them weak. Anyone but Kieran O’Mara, the black warrior of Erin.

Genova nodded, “He did face the dawn, and the dawn did not take him” she replied, “Though he was badly wounded from it. A young priest found him near the woods where he’d fallen and took him in, cared for him. Knew what he was”. Alucard found all of this slightly confusing. “The dawn didn’t take him. So he has become the pet vampire of the Iscariots?” That did not fit the Kieran he knew, but then, time could often change a person, living or not.

Genova shook her head, “Never a pet. He is a secret, as am I, as are the others. Warriors for God” she corrected him, “And never, never for the blighted Iscariots. They are not believers, they have no compassion, they are lost in the eyes of God”. Alucard removed his shining pistol and leveled it at the girl, “Why do you share such information with me?” he asked.

Genova held her ground, “As my master watches over yours, he bid me come and reveal the truest nature of this city to you”. Alucard snarled, “Your master despises me, curses my name!”. The hurt that he had thought long buried surged to life. Genova shook her head, holding her hand out to him. “He does not” she assured him, “He forgave you long ago, when he came to understand that it was not hatred and moved you to turn him, but love for your friend”.

Alucard stiffened, staring at her hand, “He sends this as a token of his goodwill”. Alucard slowly extended his palm, allowing her drop the small yet heavy object there in his gloved palm. Eyes narrowed in recognition, “My signet”. Genova nodded, “Yes, he has kept it with him all this time, unwilling to let it go until he could see you again. My master asks that you work in tandem with the Illuminati Brigade to cleanse the holy city”.

Alucard chuckled, “A band of devils cleaning God’s house? Sounds like quite the party. Tell me…. The Illuminati Brigade is reported to be legend”. Genova smiled then, a bright smile that warmed the vampire and he could see why Kieran was careful with her. “The Illuminati Brigade was founded by Father Kieran, all of us have been handpicked and trained by him. In weaponry and magical arts, but we are incomplete”.

Alucard latched onto that, “Incomplete?” he asked. She nodded sadly, “That, however will be remedied soon. Please your answer for my master?”. Alucard met her gaze, “Tell him this. If this be a trap I shall slaughter all that cross my path”.

‘You were far more trusting of me in the past’.
‘So were you’.

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Integra sighed wearily as she made her way to the doors. ‘Just get in the car and go home’ she told herself. She was quite pleased with the progress of the meeting, and though Maxwell had launched a few well aimed barbs at her, the archbishop had been the one to swiftly reprimand him. His hold in the Vatican appeared shaky indeed.

“Tiring days for ones like us” came the voice, from the shadowed hallways. A smooth voice, that made her want to listen. Her lips thinned to a tight line, “Show yourself” she demanded. A chuckle rose in the dark, “I don’t think that it is required but if it will ease your mind, very well”.

A tall man, with blue black hair, spiked on the top and tied in a long tail appeared before her, garbed as a priest. His green eyes flashed brilliantly, “Good evening Sir Hellsing” he greeted, “I am father Kieran”. She took in all the details of his person. He wore odd medals on his overcoat, and appeared to be highly decorated. A rarity in one so young.

“Be easy Integra Hellsing, no harm awaits you at these hands” he assured her, he extended one hand to her, offering a large packet of some sort. “This will aid you in your searches, your kept creature shall provide all else you need to know”. Integra stiffened, “You aren’t like the others” she said in a soft voice.

The priest turned to look over his shoulder at her, “No, I am not. I’ve not been human since time immemorial, nor have I been wholly undead. We shall speak again, when there are no dangers to us”. Then he was gone, in a swirl of dark hair and equally dark material as though he had never been there at all.