To Pay the Piper

To Pay the Piper

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Smutty resemblance to a wannabe plot brought to you by Queen Creepy.
Sequel to “Hatred in the Moonlight”
Part 2 of the “Betrayal of the Innocent” series

Summary?
To pay the piper is a pricey sum…a price requiring your pride and your sanity…

Rating?
NC-17, for swearing, religious thoughts, vampirism, yaoi sex, Alucard, Anderson, strange sex, and strange thoughts.

Comments?
If this sucks…blame Lullaby. Seems that this series is going to be a trilogy…and possibly longer if Lullaby keeps buggin’ me, and Anderson keeps talking to me about that vampiric moron. This one is also from Anderson’s point of view…you want Alucard? Yell at Lul. He lives with her. And I am not saying that Russia is unpleasant…it’s just a running joke between Lullaby and myself.

And um…these things…/=are Alucard’s mental talking…wehee…Hi mom! =/ /=And these are Anderson’s.=/

Disclaimer: Once again…they aren’t mine. However, Anderson has an apartment in the mansion thing in my head…he visits. I wish. But White Cross Station is mine. I needed a train station. So I made one up. Yee.


And once again, here I stand.

I’m trained. Aren’t I?

I stare up at the hateful moon, contemplating my existence, my reasons…my sanity.

Hell, I’m fucking insane.

That pretty much sums it up.

I shift in my crouching position, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right, closing my eyes, and then tilting my head down, usually gravity resistant bangs covering the top part of my face. I roll my bottom lip between my top canine and blunter bottom tooth, almost nervously.

I shouldn’t be doing this. Every time I get back on the train, I’m emotionless…I’m in a trance. And the moment I step foot in the Vatican City…the moment I look upon a crucifix…Guilt crashes down around me. My heart aches and my mind screams, and I lower my head in shame.

Maxwell found me this last time…a month before. I was standing in front of a cross with the dieing Jesus inscribed, hands and arms hanging limply to the sides, pride stinging, heart stinging, and faith…in question.

You heard me. My faith was in question. Was I truly the zealous priest I was before? The man of God I used to be…the one who could destroy evil without a second thought, sending their unholy bodies into a deserved decay, returning them to the dust they began as?

And yet…and yet…that one…monster…abomination…-pet- of the Hellsing wench…made me…forget my mission…every…bloody…time.

It’s like I…stopped being…a priest…and…

Started being…

…

Human.

There’s two sides…probably more than that…there is the religious man inside, the stalwart priest…the holy paladin.

And then there’s the frightened human boy…who likes to play with a black fire, which burns him every time…and he doesn’t seem to have learned.

He goes back every time.

He gets burned every time.

And he likes it.

I closed my eyes then, and turned, walking back to my quarters, ignoring the soft questions from my superior.

I fell down onto the bed that night…and I cried myself to sleep.

Tears of disgust…tears of hatred.

I hate him. I hate myself.

I hate my world…and I hate how it crumbles around me.

So dec decided…this is it. I stop coming to this vampire, faithfully, every month tonight.

His dark spell ends tonight.

And I will completely change minds the moment I see his smirking face.

I close my eyes again, reaching up and pulling off my glasses, rubbing one of my temples wearily…

I’m not a year over thirty…and yet I feel ninety.

I wonder if I could retire now…kill vampire and demon scum somewhere far away from Europe…somewhere unpleasant.

Like Russia.

I should go to Russia…No Alucard, no Hellsing, and no Vatican…

No Alexander Anderson, once holy Paladin on the verge of corruption.

Every time I meet the vampire…every time he bites me...he silently offers me his world…and the temptation grows stronger with every sinking of fang.

I shut my eyes again, squeezing tightly, as if willing this to all be false…why couldn’t this just be a dream…a nightmare?

I look up at the night sky, at the laughing Queen of Madness, the bright Luna herself…I look at the young diamonds of memory in the sky, twinkling, and laughing along with their mother.

I close my eyes somewhat.

I could leave right now, and he would never know.

I could go back to White Cross Station, get on the train that leaves at 11:55 and be back to the Vatican City before 2:25 on Thursday.

And I could save myself a hell of a lot of guilt.

I look down at my watch…11:42. I could go right now…and I could make it on time.

I slowly stand, and begin to leave the clearing…and the second I reach the edge of the woods, his soft, mocking tone sound behind me.

“Leaving so soon, Judas Priest?”

I grit my teeth in irritation and growl back, stopped cold in my tracks for now. “Since when have you been fashionably early, abomination?”

He chuckles softly, “Since my favorite toy threatens to leave.”

I roll my eyes, and begin to walk again, heading down a somewhat worn path. “Go play with the little blonde wench. I’m through with toying you you like this…” That damned chuckle sounds again, and I’ll be damned to the deepest pits of the ninth level of hell to shine Satan’s completely encased in ice three mouthed head chewing on Brutus, Cassius, and Judas if he doesn’t purr at me and wrap his arms around my waist.

“Now now, Judas Priest…I am playing with the blonde wench.” He then slides a hand in front of my body, rubbing the crotch of my pants slowly as I elbow him and push him away.

“No.” I barely keep myself from screaming. If I let him touch me…I can’t…I won’t be able to walk away and leave this be. “I will have nothing more to do with you, Hellsing abomination…leave me be.” I’m tired. I’m so very tired…I don’t want to argue…Don’t want to trade barbs…I just want to curl up in a little hole…and sleep…and die.

He chuckles again, red eyes narrowing in amusement. I grit my teeth and bare my shorter fangs in defiance, turning and beginning to walk stiffly away, ignoring the urges of my body and my mind to run back to him.

I will be corrupted no longer.

He chuckled again, and before I could walk away three steps he was crushing me to his chest, wrapping his arms loosely around my muscled waist, licking along my ear. He then chuckled breathily into my ear, puffing cool air into the sensitive cavity, causing me to shiver and grab his x crossed arms.

“No…Release me, you monster…” I gritted my teeth, and je for forward, forcing him to release me, and send me half falling half jogging forward. With a quick switch of stance, I caught the recoil, and managed to stay on balance. I then stood slowly, and began walking again…

And then he said it.

It.

The one type of phrase that inflames the greatest hatred in any man.

“Running away, cowardly priest?” I turned on my heels, eyes narrowed, fists clenched, and knives drawn. He chuckled quietly; drawing the black gun again…my eyes widened somewhat…

/=…Hehe…remember this, my debauched priest? With your legs spread, eyes closed, tears leaking from the corners of your emerald eyes…mouth whimpering and cryin ple pleasure and protest…Blood spilling from between your legs…and during it you were moaning like a bitch in heat. Like it rough, kinky priest? =/ I stepped back involuntarily, closing my eyes and shaking my head…how did he speak into my mind…why? He had always left my mind sacred…he had never spoken into my thoughts.

It sends a chill through your spine and grips your heart in ice the first time.

I stepped back again, before recovering face, and looking at him with narrowed eyes, knives in an offensive position. He chuckled quietly, and pulled out the second gun, leveling it with my head in a matter of seconds, then squeezing the trigger. I rolled and ducked, sliding out of the way, throwing a bayonet in return.

It must have been two hours more we fought, throwing knives, pulling the trigger…before it happened.

It. Happened. –It.- Fucking. Happened.

He ran out of bullets.

Click. Click. Click. Pause. Confused looking vae.
e.

He actually looked vulnerable as he stared at the twin guns…I then rushed forward and knocked him off balance. It sent us both falling.

But I was on top.

He looked up at me, but his expression was unreadable as I pressed the tip of the deadly knife to the hollow of his throat.

I could remove his head and burn it…stab a knife through his heart and be done with all this…

Or…I could…

No.

I won’t.

I can’t.

I need to kill him…I have to.

My sanity depends on it.

/=But what fun is sanity, Mad Priest? You’ve never known the thought or the experience, so why grope blindly for it now? =/

I look down at him and narrow my eyes. He’s smirking somewhat, but the malicious twist of mouth doesn’t reach his eyes.

Tare are a calm, calculating red, lightern thn the sunset in one gaze, darker than drying blood in another.

His eyes are actually quite beautiful when he’s not wearing those glasses…

I blink. Did I really just think that? I couldn’t have…the monster below me is not one of beauty… And then my traitorous mind whispers to me, telling me the words that I refuse as truth.

/=Destruction is its own form of beauty, the steaming crimson of fallen blood drying upon inspires madness and lust, and yet, also inspires a carnal want and need to see more spilled upon the ground from torn flesh, be the flesh of a once living being or a dead abomination unto the earth. =/

I do not like blood that much, or in unnatural quantities as such. I am not a monster that must feed on the essence of others just to survive, to maintain my being.

/=And yet you must. You love the sight of blood, the sight of the madness; you love the freedom and the carnality you feel. You want it, and you want more. All humans want the blood shed and the violence; it’s a natural instinct. You like death, you like the hunt. And you love blood. =/

That’s not true…It can’t be true…so why is it? Why do I actually understand, believe, and know why my mind gives me this answer when I seek that information? Why?

Why does my mind, the innermost thoughts I banish to the deepest hells insist on telling me what I truly believe?

The monster chuckles beneath me, smirking up at me, like he can read my very thoughts. I frown, the expression pulling my lips tight over my teeth, the tips of unnaturally long canines poking out in a sort of snarl. I never understood why my teeth were so long…

/=Like a vampire’s…=/

I snarl, and punch him in the face, cause his head to smack back against the ground, the dull thump rising to my ears in a hazy spiral, going right past me. It was like I was in time compression…everything around us, the monster and I, was slowed, like we were the only clear spots in a thick fog.

He smirked up at me, one fang glinting from under his lips; making him look so damn fuckable…did I just think that?

/=Indeed…how about a kiss, then? =/

I wasn’t even thinking by this point, I suppose. My brain must have quit and running out screaming about three minutes ago. I leaned down, and claimed his lips with mine, forcing my tongue into his mouth, pressing my tongue to He He shifted, grinding up against me, fangs scratching against my lips and tongue. I held his groin in a tight grip for warning against trying to get a…snack.

He smirked when I pulled away. His eyes were narrowed, and the pupils were the color of liquid rubies, sparkling with molten lust. He wanted me. I wanted him. I heard my reason running out the door, taking my awareness of my beliefs with it. Must have gone on a date or something.

He spread his legs under me, and his eyes were filled with a dare, daring me to follow through with the madness I started…he started…we started…

I –don’t- back down from challenges. So I began to strip him down, revealing pale muscles, removing every stitch on him until he lay on the ground, moonlight glinting off of his ethereally pale skin…

Where the –fuck- did that come from?

I shook my head. This was not some treasured lover spread over a satin bed, peering up at me in love and trust, waiting for me to ravish him gently… this was an utter monster, waiting and taunting at me to fuck him brutally until we both bled. He smirked at me, eyes betraying boredom on top of the lust, and I growled.

I then felt and almost primal need to fuck him, and fuck him hard, until he bled like I had last full moon…I wanted to violate him and break him, like he had me. But how does one go about emotionally destroying a monster with no emotions and a love of pain?

It was then a cruel thought flitted across my mind…one that would defile both of us. But I was too far fallen, too far gone…I felt the numbness racing through my veins…and I didn’t care.

So I turned him over. I growled warningly, and pinned him down to the point where all he could do was comply with the position I had him in…I stripped myself down, laying my clothes in the messy pile next to us.

I left on my cross.

I tried to think of the right way to do this, when a thought popped into my head…I remember the monster saying once, “Take your religion and shove it up your ass…”

Oh, cruel, wondrous irony.

I forced him to spread his legs, forcing him to stay on his knees with his shoulders pinned, and slowly took off the silver symbol of my faith.

And then I shothe the cross into his entrance.

He screamed when the silver made contact with the place I know hadn’t beouchouched ever, at the least recently, and burned at his inhuman flesh, doing as the holy metal does with damned heretic flesh.

He squirmed, moaning in pain and arousal. I pinned him down even harder, and then slid off his shoulders, on both my knees before him, my arousal drooling in front of his pain wracked face.

I am a sick, sick, evil, bad priest. And right now, I love it.

I pressed myself against his mouth, and smirked. “Bite, and I’ll rip you to shreds…”

He looked at me, eyes shining like a child that was being punished, before placidly, almost meekly, taking my tip into his mouth. What is it with him and his eyes? So blank, and yet so expressive, all at the same time.

I moaned, and thrust myself fully into his mouth. His throat moved as if he were gagging, and then still, as I continued to rock myself in and out of his mouth. It was erotic, warm and cold at the same time.

I thrust into his mouth, riding his face harder until I was nearly bruising myself with his cheekbones, I laced my fingers through his hair, until I arched, and came with a soft groan. He grunted, and his throat worked to swallow. I pulled away, staring down at him, panting softly. Then I grabbed his arm, and wrenched it painfully behind him, nearly breaking the limb. “Now, now…no pleasing yourself. Bad monster.” He whined, trying to get rid of his erection, and I smirked. I reached behind him, and began to pump the cross in and out. He nearly screamed again, instead the noise came out like a choked groan and whine. I chuckled, imitating the motion of the cross with the motion that my cock would soon do.

I licked the tip of his eahen hen bit into it, and he moaned, humping back against the silver cross, and I smirked. As I watched him, he looked like some sort of fallen, horny angel. He reminded me of a portrait I saw once.

It was of the Fallen Prince, Lucifer, as he sprawled over a throne made of ebony stone, black wings spread behind him like some sort of shimmering black aura, black hair falling into completely black eyes, red leather pants colored crimson draped over one arm of the throne, one leg draped and the other spread, twin swords stuck in the blood covered ground before the half-naked angel, as the Fallen stared forward, in a bored melancholy, as blood lapped at his throne and black boot clad feet. His eyes were what caught me the most…they were black, even where there should be white, and seemed to sparkle in sadness as well as mischief. Their eyes seemed so much the same…

I shook my head, and looked into the monster’s eyes. They stared at me in wonder, with a blank tranquility, even as he pressed back into the holy trinket. I knew he had read my thoughts. He stared at me, wondering how I knew his master so well. I shook my head. It didn’t matter.

I removed the cross, and it was slick with his blood. I moved behind him, and I knew I wasn’t myself. I slid behind him, and with little to no thought, I mounted him in one swift thrust. He moaned, and pressed back against me, humping furiously. I grabbed his hair, pulling his head back, kissing him brutally, and then slipping the cross back into his mouth. He suckled on it, as he rocked back against, trying to find his own pleasure.

I rode him like he had ridden me so many times before. I continued to thrust in him hard, and we coupled, he writhing underneath me in unbridled passion and a lustful furor. I slipped a hand beneath us, and grabbed his cock, jerking him in pace with my frantic motions. It only took me three more thrusts, and four more pumps of his cock, before we wailed in sync, and came, me deep inside of him, he onto the benevolent ground below us. I saw that, because when I collapsed, it caught me. Such a nice thing dirt truly is.

I guess the emotions and the thrill was too much for me. I lay beside him, trying to come off of my power trip, and he stared at me, eyes blank.

Then, there was a sharp pain in my neck. I gasped, as the monster suckled on his newly inflicted bite marks. I felt him in my mind, then nothing, just an icy numbness, sending me into the downfall of the trip…

He stood slowly and dressed, then disappeared without a word. I felt the wound throbbing, my legs shaking, and my entire world crashing down. In a silent lethargy, I stood, dressing. I gathered all of my things, and then looked down.

My cross was stuck in the ground, upside-down.

It was covered in blood, saliva, and essence…and there were cracks running through it.

I swallowed, and felt tears prickling at my eyes.

I turned, and began running from fie field, when I suddenly heard –him-.

In my mind.

/=It’s all your fault…your mine now…ha ha… =/ He went into a mocking bout of insane laughter, and the wound burned.

I screamed, and ran, leaving the cross glinting in the moonlight.


No more than forty feet away from him, Alucard watched his newest pet run.

The paladin had been foolish enough to be marked by a vampire. This bite was different…Alucard had taken the man’s blood, and melded their minds…it was time…Anderson was broken and questioning…

And now he was all his…this was wonderful.

Wasn’t it?

He shut his eyes, and shook his head. He loved the way the priest was in his holy conviction, and how the man kept in his determination to be a suitable opponent…but the vampire had a new type of war to propose between them, since he would always be the clear cut victor of the other…

It was time to conquer his foe once and for all…the resistance was fun…but the father handing his soul to the monster willingly would be so much better.

With a soft chuckle, the monster disappeared to plot his next move.
End
Authoress’ note:

Queen Creepy: Whee! I finally finished the second part! Fake’ll be so proud!

Anyway, this may turn into a uh…whatchacallit…series.

If –Fake- will help me write it.

Otherwise, it ends here.

Anderson: You can’t really leave it here. You left the thing completely open for more story.

QC: Did not.

Anderson: Did too.

QC: I dedicate this to my co-authoress, Fake, and to the Disney Channel.

Anderson: You sick, sick woman…

QC: Shut it, priest, or Alucard gets alone time with you.

Anderson: Oh, I quiver in fear.

QC: With his guns and no lube.

Anderson: …Eep. …Bitch.

QC: Alucard!

Anderson: …-runs-

QC: sooo…yeah, he’s OOC…so um…thank you, FrostRiven, I love you, and yes, betaing would be appreciated…these two pieces of the series will remain as is…too attached to change them drastically besides spelling errors. The Third installment of the series is waiting to be written…for anyone who cares…so yeah. Let’s have our good friend…uh…the Lamppost finish up, since I’m hungry, and need food.

Lamppost: Thank you for reading, please review, tell QC how much you hate her and how she should never write again! Constructive criticism is begged for, and flames will be torn apart and eaten by something evil. Bye Ya’ll!

QC: How the hell should I start this third story!? …DAMN IT!

Lamppost: Writers’ block…eek.