Midian Evolution

So glad you all seem to enjoy Walter's second chance at life. I love him, too. ;-)Thanks for the reads and reviews!

Walter sat carefully still while Kayne attacked the bandages on his face. I thought of Master telling me I would learn a vampire’s stillness, but I thought even my master could take a lesson in quietude from Walter. He didn’t move a bit, not even an eyelash. Even the wind Kayne stirred up by moving around didn’t rustle Walter’s hair.

Finally, Kayne had the tail end of the bandage, and he began to unwind it. We all stood close, drawn by expectation.

The white gauze first peeled to reveal Walter’s forehead, which had only the barest lines upon it. Farther, farther, and his cheekbones and nose came into view. At last, when finished, Kayne stepped back to reveal a very young, very handsome Angel of Death.

Integra put her hand over her mouth, mute with astonishment. My master began to laugh. He laughed and laughed, throwing his head back for the maniacal release of his amusement.

Getting such mixed signals, Walter looked to me. “I am disfigured?” he asked, as if it meant nothing to him if he were.

I grinned, delighted to be the one to unveil him. “Walter, you’re hot,” I said, grabbing the stainless steel pan that had held Kayne’s instruments. I put the reflective surface up before his eyes. “I’d guess you’re about, what, twenty-six?”

Walter stared at his reflection. “That seems right,” he said quietly. “Which explains why I don’t feel arthritic anymore.” He flexed his hands thoughtfully. His gaze drifted to Integra, so I lowered the tray. “Sir Integra?”

Doubt and worry colored his voice.

We’re leaving now, my master said. Though, I’d love to hear the conversation. I’ll take Anderson. Meet us below. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he began breaking Anderson free.

I slipped from the room and then just ran all the way to the lower levels, my heart light.

Walter not only lived, he lived as a young man!

I flitted around Alucard’s room, doing nothing and everything. I counted this experience as proof that sometimes good things happened instead of bad. Poor Walter had bemoaned his age, thought himself unable to be a good husband to Integra because of it. Now, he could do anything, including keeping up with the Hellsing Director.

“Your joy for Walter is projecting into half the manor,” Alucard announced, coming in with Anderson thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He unceremoniously dumped Anderson and chained him, but this time he let him merely sit on the floor instead of hang upside down.

The second he finished his task, I rushed him, threw my arms around him and made him spin in a circle with me. “Walter’s okay!” I shouted. “He’s young! I don’t have to watch him die for a long time, now!”

Alucard grabbed my arms, obliged me in my spin by waltzing me around in a quick, elegant figure eight. Laughing, he dipped me backward and brought me back up.

I didn’t know he could dance.

“It pleases me, too,” he confessed, letting go of me to grab the bottle of wine he’d abandoned earlier. “Though, I think you’re both wrong in your estimate of his age. Walter looked thusly at about twenty-three, which puts him younger than his intended bride.”

“Perversion,” Anderson muttered. “Technology not meant for Protestant dogs.”

Because the man had saved Walter’s life, even unwillingly, I didn’t lash out as I wanted. “God’s supposed to love everybody,” I retorted. “Miss that lesson in Sunday School?”

“Save your breath,” Alucard advised, sitting down. “You can’t expect a bigot to think of the Almighty as anything but bigoted. Man makes God in his own image, you know.”

Uncaring of our spectator, I straddled Alucard’s lap and kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy, master. He can’t dampen my joy.”

“Care to share?” he asked, bending me backward with a fist in my hair. Without pause, he sank his fangs into my neck and began to drink. Just like a living woman, he sighed. No real stimulation, my eternal little winepress; I don’t want you writhing in front of this judgmental prick. That’s for my eyes.

I understand. But, it still feels good. And, it did. Not particularly sexual, except for my dark enjoyment of his aggression. I just felt warm and relaxed.

I want it to feel good. I reserve the excruciatingly painful feedings for those who merit them.

He drank only a minute or less before releasing my hair. I immediately lay upon him, relishing the way our bond hummed in satisfaction.

“Proud ‘o yerself for turnin’ the lass into a damned creature, aren’t you,” Anderson asked. “Just took a fancy, did ye?”

“She chose me, actually,” Alucard answered in a lazy drawl. “For which, I’m increasingly thankful.”

His sentiment warmed me even more than the pleasure of his feeding. I took big handfuls of his hair and draped them over myself. He obliged me, growing his tresses out to an amazing length. In seconds I was covered in the silk made purely of him.

“Och, she couldnae known what that choice meant,” Anderson protested. “She’s a child.” I heard his voice harden. “An’ yer twice the monster for takin’ advantage ‘o a child.”

Alucard sighed. “I don’t know many children with double-d breasts. You must have a very stimulating orphanage.”

“Ergh!” I heard Anderson spit.

“He’s spinning you up, priest,” I said, feeling sleepy with the approach of the sun. “Do be quiet and let us rest. You don’t want to deal with us when we’re cranky.”

To my amazement, Anderson quieted.

I drifted awhile, listening to my master’s heartbeat and the sounds of him drinking wine. I felt very content. I had my friend alive and well, my master kind and indulgent, and my leader, relieved and thankful. For now, all seemed perfect.

Soon, master picked me up and carried me to the coffin. I wrapped my arms around him, compelled to get as close as I could. He smiled against my cheek.

Why is it I never mind when you cling like a limpet?

Maybe because you know you can do the same, if you ever want it? I asked back before I could censor myself.

…maybe so… he replied after a moment. Good day, Seras.

Sleep well, master.


Again, I dreamed.

No innocent dream, this. I stood on a battlefield, watching my master fight someone of fearsome ability. Smoke obscured my vision, forcing me to get closer to the action. Nazis swarmed the place, vampires, ghouls and werewolves in their wake. I stepped over a decapitated body, stumbling on loose shale.

And came face to face with myself.

I stared into eyes of pure crimson. Other-Me stared back. She didn’t have her left arm, but a cloud of swirling darkness where it should be. Her hair was still short, in that style I’d had before master grew it out. A man shot by us, and she reached out with tendrils of darkness, snagging him. Drawing back, she broke his neck and dropped him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be here,” she said to me. “Isn’t there some rule about not meeting yourself?”

“Damned if I know,” I answered. I gestured to the smoke-obscured fight. “Who is master fighting?”

Other-Me’s face fell into nothing but pure heartbreak. “It doesn’t matter. This future isn’t yours.”

“Then, why am I here?”

She smiled sadly. “Damned if I know,” she said, repeating me. “Maybe you’re supposed to learn something. Maybe it’s an accident.” Her vision focused elsewhere a moment. Her face collapsed into utter grief. “Go, before you see something you can’t bear.”

And, despite my own good advice, I turned.

I turned just in time to see a youthened Walter, wearing a Swastika arm band of scarlet, lash out with wires and slice my master into tiny, twitching pieces.



I woke screaming. I screamed and screamed, almost unaware of master crouching over me, calling my name. But, as his touch registered on my face, I pulled from the horror. I grabbed him, holding tightly. “Master!”

“Seras, what?” he demanded, his eyes aflame and wide.

“What did ye do, pinch her?” Anderson demanded.

I wrestled from the coffin, falling into the floor. As I raced out the door, I reached for Alucard with my mind. A nightmare, but I have to see for myself if Walter’s okay. I’m sorry, master. It was so real!

A beat of silence.

Stay to the shadows. If something is wrong, tell me that instant. His worry projected into me.

Yes, master.

I raced to the access stairs, casting my mind out for Walter. Finding him in the uppermost level, I turned myself into mist and willed myself to stand where he stood. It was easy, and I wished I’d attempted it before now.

Walter stood by himself in his room, looking in a mirror. He caught sight of me and turned, surprise and concern finding a home in his heliotrope eyes. “Seras? It’s well into daylight.”

I advanced, only stopping when I stood inches from him. “Walter,” I said, my voice breaking. “Tell me you aren’t a Nazi.”

God help me, I would have to destroy Walter in the next instant if I found him false. Assuming I could, of course. Even if I had the skill, I didn’t know if I could kill my best friend. My heart would wither into a lump of slag-dripping coal.

Walter blinked rapidly several times. “I’m not a Nazi,” he said. He paused. “But, I could have been. They wanted me. I resisted, of course.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “What brought this on?”

“A nightmare.” I clasped his hand. “Maybe an alternate reality, I don’t know.” Tears of relief left my eyes. “I’m so glad it isn’t my reality. Oh, Walter, if you turned on us, I’d kill myself.” I truly pitied Other-Me. I hoped she did kill herself so she wouldn’t have to live with her pain.

Walter didn’t do what most people would have done over such a stupid and ardent declaration. He didn’t make protestations or start blustering about the preciousness of life. He nodded as if he understood. “Seras, I swear to you, I have never been and never will be a Nazi. I will never turn my back on the Hellsing family, nor will I betray my friends.”

Assured, I let myself droop a little. “You don’t seem at all surprised by my bursting in here and throwing accusations,” I said.

He smiled. “All realities overlap a little, Seras. I’ve seen myself as you suggest. I’m haunted by what I’m capable of. So, you see, dear friend, why I think perhaps I don’t merit love?” He patted my shoulder again. “But, in this reality, I will never be that man. I would rather die.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Walter, but I’d rather you die too, if it meant becoming what I saw,” I said.

He laughed. “Get back to your hell-spawn in the basement. I have preening to do in front of this mirror.”