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Summary: The dust had settled on the corpses of Millennium’s soldiers 30 years prior but Alucard, still bound by Schrödinger’s power, remained trapped within himself. He’d slain countless souls, each one a reminder of a life he stole when he was the No-Life King. As the waves of enemies wane and Alucard’s mind clears, his body starts to fail him, finally giving in to his decades-long starvation. But just as he’s given up, Alucard must face one last demon from his past before he can finally be put to rest. A piece of the vampire’s long-forgotten human life given sentience by Van Helsing’s experiments. A part of him that was locked away along with all of Alucard’s greatest abilities: Vlad Drăculea.
Alucard panted softly as he lowered his arm, eyeing one of the humans as it died. Its body collapsed around the hand-sized hole in its chest before withering away to dust. The blood dried in an instant and flaked off of Alucard’s hand, taunting him for the thousandth - no - millionth time. He licked his lips; he could hardly remember what blood tasted like. How long had he been stuck in this wretched place?
He raised his hand and a shadowy tendril crept out from the depths of his coat, spearing another shambling ghoul as it tried to attack him from behind. The ghoul’s cry cut through the silence, then just as quickly cut off as its body withered away. Alucard groaned and knelt to the ground, the shadow receding. He shouldn’t keep using his powers like that, not when he was so exhausted. He might need them if he encountered another horde, though they’ve been few and far between for… well, he couldn't tell how long.
He eyed the nothingness before him, the stark white as harsh on his eyes as ever. There’d been fewer and fewer creatures for a while now, and even with his vampiric abilities, he couldn’t see or sense any other living thing within the blank expanse. He should’ve felt relieved; without a million things trying to kill him, he could finally focus on trying to find a way out of here. But after countless times scouring the vast prison, he had never found a single identifiable marking or object, much less a way in or out.
What, then, was the purpose in all this? Why did he keep fending off these enemies? Whether human, ghoul, werewolf, vampire, animal, or any other worthless creature, what was the point in fighting them if they might bring him some sort of escape from this Hell? Or maybe he was in Hell already and there wouldn’t be an escape. That mad Major had finally killed him and this was his curse for all eternity, fighting all the souls within him. Only, he had yet to see any of his victims return to try and kill him again. Between this and the sudden silence, he had reason to believe he was nearing the end of his purgatorial sentence.
His body was weak but his mind became clearer with each dead enemy. The power bestowed by the souls he once hoarded within himself had slowly diminished as they continued to attack him, leaving a different sensation growing in their place. Alucard felt his body flicker at times, causing him to quickly disappear and appear elsewhere without his knowledge or control. It wasn’t something he had dwelt on until now, though, and as he thought of this power again, a feeling of unease crept into him.
“I don’t have time for this,” he said, sweeping his gaze over the endless void for what must’ve been the thousandth time. It was too quiet now, his ears ringing in the absence of noise. The groans and screams that had been ever-present since his arrival were completely gone and he still saw no sign of escape in this vast expanse. He knew it couldn’t be as simple as killing them all. He must find a way out. There had to be a way out.
Alucard stalked the endless boundaries of his prison for as long as he could stand, every second weighing on him as the adrenaline from the fighting finally began to wear off. The feeling of unease continued to gnaw at him, growing stronger as he grew weaker. His very being felt unstable, like his soul was trying to tear itself in two. At times his thoughts wandered and it felt like he was in two places at once, his brain struggling to comprehend either in his exhausted state. Still, he tried to push it to the back of his mind, struggling against this strange feeling in an effort to focus on his escape.
It was fruitless. When the old vampire finally collapsed to the ground he clenched his jaw, a fresh bout of fatigue washing over him. It had been a long time since he starved to death, and this time there wouldn’t be a Hellsing to save him. He would’ve laughed at such a pitiful thought if it weren’t for the odd feeling gnawing at the back of his skull. So much for killing all those souls. He couldn’t even have a moment to enjoy the mental clarity before his body started giving out.
He tried to steel his mind, gathering the last of his strength to focus on the ground in front of him. There must be a way out. He must get back to them: his Master, his servant. Alucard had longed for death for longer than he could remember, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He couldn’t die after abandoning them like that. No honor, no bravado, just turning to dust because of the antics of an insane Nazi. If he couldn’t be slain by a creature more worthy than himself and if he couldn’t make his long un-life worth something, it would have all been a waste. The thought made him sick.
There was no telling how much time had passed since he was stripped away from the mortal realm. The moment of his disappearance still weighed heavily on him even as he lay in a heap. He wished he could tell the others how he tried to return, how he struggled against the hordes in the hopes of finding a way to go back home, but now it all seemed so hopeless. His chance for escape had drifted away into the same nothingness that swallowed up every creature he’d slain while stuck in this place. He sighed as he laid on the ground. Now, it seemed, it was his turn.
“Are we to die like a piteous dog?”
Alucard lifted his head. The voice was his own, but different. Maybe he really was losing it.
The voice spoke again: “I’ve waited a long time to say my piece on your actions. Or rather, your inaction.”
“It’s you, then.” Alucard’s eyes narrowed. “Me.”
“Us,” said the voice, deep and heavily-accented. A silhouette formed out of Alucard’s shadow, stepping away from his body as it took the shape of his long-dead self: the Voivode of Wallachia. Vlad stood before Alucard, arms crossed, matching the vampire hunter’s distasteful look with one of his own.
Alucard’s mind was sent spinning. He knew he had recognized that feeling somewhere. Though if his Level 0 form - his ancient self - was truly here, he couldn’t be sure. He vaguely remembered something about the brain’s last-ditch attempt at survival, all its chemicals consolidating to form a vivid hallucination to help ease the body into its final sleep. Alucard’s life wasn’t flashing before his eyes now, though. Not like it had when he was first sent here.
Alucard lifted himself up on his elbows. “So you decide to show yourself. I don’t have time for your lecturing.”
“Do you not understand yet, Alucard? Has the solitude done nothing to sharpen your mind?”
Alucard looked past him, still searching for an escape. “Can’t say I do. Fighting for your life doesn’t leave much time for ruminating.” He continued crawling along the ground, still trying to wrack his exhausted brain for any inkling of an escape. Then, another wave of dread swept over him and he gasped, his whole body feeling like he was in free-fall. Without warning, the endless void disappeared for a heartbeat and he was somewhere else. It was noisy there, the blank space replaced by a slew of sights and sounds, but before Alucard could grasp what it was, he was in the void again. He looked around and this time Vlad was far away, nothing but a speck against the endless white.
“The Hell?” Alucard’s mind reeled as the feeling of unease slowly abated. He hadn’t seen anything like that since he’d been here. Was this place fucking with him somehow? Now that all the ghouls were gone, was he the only one subject to the void’s strangeness?
‘Look at you.’ Vlad’s voice was in Alucard’s head, then just as suddenly, he could hear Vlad speaking from behind him: “Tattered and torn, one would think you weak for letting a few ghouls bring you this low. And to think this all could be avoided if you hadn’t given up so easily.”
Alucard glared at him. “And what help have you been?”
“None.” He grinned. “You are our source, the only one who can free us. I am powerless except to guide you to the answer.”
“How convenient. I think you just came to waste time so we’ll die faster.”
“If you say so. Though you know you haven’t yet exhausted all your escape routes.”
Alucard swept a clawed hand at Vlad and the ancient Voivode’s form flickered, the shadows briefly warping before resuming their original shape.
Vlad raised his eyebrows. “You’ve enough strength for anger, so you must have the strength to escape. Yet you purposefully ignore the solution that is right in front of you.”
“Convenient that all you can do is scold me.” Alucard continued crawling, his mind running through at least a dozen different ways he’d like to eviscerate the specter of his old self. The feeling of unease started to claw back into his mind again and he tried to push it aside, urged forward by his rising anger.
Vlad was silent for a long moment, then: “Are you afraid, Alucard?”
He set his jaw. “You know already. You’re in my head.”
“I do, but if you won’t admit it to yourself, you will continue to hold us back.”
Alucard pulled himself up onto his knees. “I didn’t know I carried a smart-ass old sage in my brain. Where was all this wisdom when your kingdom fell apart?”
“That time is past us.” It was Vlad’s turn to narrow his eyes. “If you are not afraid, then what holds you back?”
Alucard rose to his feet. “What about Radu? What about your execution? Weren’t you afraid? Where was your wisdom then?”
“We have suffered and learned from my failings already, we don’t need to-“
“ I have suffered from them!” Alucard stepped towards Vlad, jabbing a finger at him. “What about William? Arthur? Where were you then? Why pester me now?”
“I did not have a choice. The restrictions forbade me from appearing.”
“That’s never stopped you from giving your thoughts. Disapproving but never helping; your arrogance knows no bounds.”
“I am trying to help you now!” Vlad loomed near Alucard, his figure broad and imposing with his armor.
“Your usefulness died with your army,” Alucard spat. “If all you’re here to do is wax lyrical about dying, then I’ll have to kill you, too.”
Vlad pursed his lips.
“There’s nothing different now.” Alucard gestured to him. “One mad King without his kingdom and nothing useful to provide. It’s a wonder William allowed you to exist.”
“But there is something different. We can both feel it.”
The words gave Alucard pause. Aside from the feeling of unease, there was something else fundamentally wrong about this whole situation. For one, his ancient self was here in the flesh, talking to him in a way he never had before.
Vlad’s gaze softened. “The restrictions. Our Master released them before we came to this place, but they appear to have remained unlocked. Or, I fear…”
Alucard swallowed, his dry throat sticking uncomfortably to itself. “There might be no-one left to hold our leash.”
Vlad nodded. “Of course, there is no way of knowing for sure. But we will never find out if you cannot get over yourself and try .”
“Try what , exactly?” Alucard glared at Vlad again. “I’ve tried everything since coming here. Scoured every inch of blank space, killed every last enemy before me, and yet here you are: wasting my god-damned time!”
“There is one last way. You felt it before, when you first came here. And again as you grow weaker. Yet even now you are too conflicted to use it, even when we may be wasting precious time.”
“Watch yourself, Mad King,” Alucard scowled. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“What? That you may not truly want to return?”
“Enough!” Alucard raised his hands, calling upon the dark powers sequestered within him. Shadows roiled around him and Vlad’s form wavered again.
The ancient king stood his ground. “Are you afraid of what it might do to you? Or are you afraid of what you might find when you return?”
Alucard swept his hands towards Vlad, commanding the shadows that made up his body. They rose at once without a sound, grotesquely stretching Vlad’s form before splitting off to either side, ripping him in two. Alucard gasped with the effort and collapsed to the ground again, the shadows quickly retreating back towards his body. His past self’s voice no longer chastised him; Alucard was alone at last.
Finally, some peace and quiet. He sighed again, his energy somewhat rejuvenated from the spat, but soon, the feeling of weakness began to creep over him again. His mind still toyed with the questions Vlad posed to him: was he afraid of returning? Why return in the first place? If it was to appease Integra, why bother if she might not be alive?
Alucard shook his head, resuming his stalking through the blank expanse. After all this time, was there any real reason why he was fighting to return? Was it just an animal instinct? Had anything really changed to make him no longer crave death? And so what if he did manage to return, would they be there to greet him? Would anything be the same with them? With him?
These questions crashed like ocean waves in his mind when suddenly, the feeling of dread welled within him again and he groaned, unable to focus his mind to hold it back. The endless void disappeared again, replaced by the place he’d visited during his earlier episode. Noise filled his ears like the collection of a hundred different conversations taking place at once, but it soon faded into a dull roar. As he regained his focus he could see a hundred glassy surfaces displayed before him, each one containing a moving image of some sort. Alucard stepped closer and he could see various people and places, each one like a self-contained moment in time playing before his eyes. The longer he looked the more he realized something was off; each place or person was connected to him in some way. People and places he’d visited or seen in the memories stolen from other’s blood were on full display. It was eerie, like a camera was always positioned overhead.
“Amazing, ja? You get used to it after a while.”
Alucard whipped his head around at yet another new voice. It was sickeningly sweet, and if he didn’t recognize it, he might even call it ‘innocent’. It was the unkillable cat-boy that Millennium cooked up, the wretched were-creature sauntering towards him as he curled a lock of his hair. Alucard’s hand twitched and he found himself missing his firearms more than ever.
Schrödinger grinned, sitting on the ground next to Alucard. “I thought it would be boring staring at someone else’s scenery for all eternity, but yours is very entertaining!”
Alucard narrowed his eyes but turned his attention back to the wall of moving pictures. He couldn’t tell if these were the past, present, or future, or if he was just imagining it all. What was the boy implying? Is this how he traveled to and fro, avoiding death? Was this the ticket home that Vlad oh-so-helpfully tried coaxing him towards?
“You’re the last one standing, then,” Alucard said, still not looking at the Cat.
“Silly vampire.” He tilted his head. “I was wondering what was taking you so long. It’s no fun waiting for your turn to die.”
Alucard gritted his teeth. He scoured the wall for something more familiar than a brief acquaintance or a place he’d only visited once, trying to recognize a pattern within the chaos. He reached out for one of the visions and as he touched it, the feeling of unease clutched at his mind again, forcing him to withdraw.
Schrödinger yawned. “If you won’t let me escape, you could at least give me a quick death. You really can’t blame me for trying to do the same to you.”
Alucard snapped his gaze towards the Cat. “What the Hell are you on about?”
He giggled. “Aw, like a lost doggie trying to find its way back to its owner. Would you bark for me if I gave you a treat?” Schrödinger drew a finger across his neck where the knife wound still split his skin and his head lolled to the side at an unnatural angle. He stuck out his tongue. “My last treat didn’t agree with you.”
Alucard ignored him at first but then his eyes widened as a familiar smell punctuated the air. Blood. Real, warm blood. Alucard waited with bated breath for one heartbeat, then another, to see if Schrödinger would disappear like all the other corpses had, but the boy remained, bleeding all over the floor.
The were-creature opened his mouth again but his voice died in his throat. Alucard was upon him in an instant, tearing into the boy with teeth and claws until the Cat was reduced to a pile of gore on the floor. Blood at first pooled around the body but soon retreated towards Alucard, reinvigorating him as he absorbed it. Clarity washed over his mind within seconds, making him feel as though he’d woken up from a long slumber. It wasn't much blood, but it was much more than he'd had in a long time, and now, as he stood before the fall over reflective portals, he slowly came to realize the true purpose of the room that the Cat had sequestered himself in.
Alucard watched the innumerable moving images. One displayed a picturesque view of a nighttime city. Another, a woman decorated with white body paint. And another, the inside of an imposing Catholic church. These scenes were all initially unfamiliar to him but as his gaze lingered, the details crept up from the depths of his brain: Seattle, Washington, viewed from the top floor of The Westin. Jedda, an Aboriginal and mother to two sons. And finally, St. Stephan's Cathedral in Austria, a hallowed place even older than the King of Vampires himself.
Alucard narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t unfamiliar with accessing memories from the souls he’d absorbed; he would commonly call upon them for missions or for his own amusement. It was, however, unusual to have them accessible all at once with such clarity.
He looked back to the image of the Aboriginal woman. His borrowed memory told him something wasn’t right about her; Jedda’s face was older with wrinkles where there were none before and when she smiled, a few of her teeth were missing. This was all wrong; things never changed in these stolen memories. The blood of his victims could only conjure images from the past, never the present or future. But maybe this person’s memory was flawed.
Alucard felt his gaze drawn over the other scenes, unease rising within him again - a truck rolling down a gravel road, a snow-covered car park - both older and more disheveled than he remembered. Other images flashed before him - a dark alleyway, a moaning woman, twin siblings sharing a beer - he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Munich, Zhouzhuang, Tromsø, Fort Smith - his mind was quickly filling with a cacophony of memories, none of them his own - forests, graveyards, bullets, sunlight, flowers, ho-
Alucard was in the void again. His heart ached; no, he was on that hill again, watching his final sunrise. He blinked. No, that can’t be right. He’s somewhere enclosed; he reached out into the darkness and felt the cool wooden wall of his coffin. Then, just as quickly, all these scenes began to overlay and blur together as the feeling of unease reared its head. It was like the sensation of staring at oneself in a mirror surrounded by other mirrors, each one infinitely warping the reflection until the reflection disappears into darkness. His mind and body were trying to separate from one another, each pulled in a hundred directions at once. Alucard cried out and a dozen deafening echoes followed. The pain was too much. All of this was too much.
Suddenly, the feeling of unease abated and Alucard collapsed to the ground. Bloody bile rose in his throat and he voided the measly contents of his stomach. It took a few minutes for him to recover, his body wracked by the onslaught of information. He was still shaking and his ears were still ringing when he stood again and realized he was back in the room where he found the Cat. The moving images peeked at him from the corner of his eyes and he quickly looked away.
What was all of that? Was this somehow the Cat’s doing?
Alucard strode away from the wall of images, and as he drew further, his mind became clearer. He could feel Schrödinger’s blood steadily permeating his body, lending him strength. He called upon the Cat’s blood, searching for a memory that might explain what the Hell any of this meant.
The boy’s strange life flashed before him: endless experiments, maniacal laughter, the sound of boots stomping one-by-one, Schrödinger flitting from place to place at will, then… Alucard narrowed his eyes. Millennium, the experiments, the Cat’s role in his untimely downfall, all were made plain to him. So the void was a purgatory of sorts, intended by the Nazis to lock Alucard away within himself for all eternity. Clever, he had to give them that. Too bad they didn’t factor in Schrödinger surviving long enough to reveal their secrets.
So that meant… He glanced at the wall of images. They looked so similar to the room that the Cat would use to appear and disappear at will. Was it possible that Alucard now had access to this power after killing Schrödinger once and for all?
The feeling of dreadful anticipation rose again and he averted his gaze. These strange sensations and random bouts of teleporting were easily explained by this revelation, but it still didn’t explain the discrepancies with the memories. If the Cat were a vampire it might make slightly more sense for his powers to function based on the memories gleaned from drinking blood, but even if Schrödinger weren’t a were-creature, Alucard knew of few other vampires that were capable of harnessing blood in such a way.
It must be something different, then. The Cat’s powers must rely on the present time, otherwise he’d be infinitely more useful as a time traveler rather than an intangible - albeit annoying - messenger boy for Millennium. A sinking feeling hit the old vampire; it was evident from his earlier excursion that time had passed, since his victim’s memories didn’t match up with what was shown in this room.
Doubt welled within him again. Would there be anything left for Alucard to return to, if time truly had passed? His memories didn’t provide any gauge of how much time had gone by, and being stuck in the endless void didn’t afford Alucard many chances to guess how long he’d been there. For the better, maybe.
Vlad’s words echoed in his mind again. ‘Are you afraid of what it might do to you? Or are you afraid of what you might find when you return?’ The damned warlord had a point, unfortunately, but Alucard didn’t want to waste more time considering his guilty conscience’s thoughts on the matter.
He looked back to the wall of images. His mind didn’t stir with unease this time, though the sheer amount of information staring back at him was enough to set his head spinning. He assumed the feeling of dread was somehow linked to his ability to disappear and reappear at will, given his tendency to teleport whenever his mind lost focus. Which meant he would have to be sure of himself to travel anywhere with this power, or he’d risk getting hopelessly lost amongst the hundreds of thousands of places he had within his reach. There wasn’t any room in his mind for turmoil or second-guessing. Either he would escape, or he’d lose himself to the endless void for good.
He couldn’t be sure what would happen if he tried to use Schrödinger’s powers. He never tried to do so with any of the werewolves or other vampires he’d absorbed before, but none of them had affected him like the Cat’s had. He might create an existence even worse than his current one, stuck somewhere as a featureless thing barely existing on the edge of reality and unreality. Or, he could never try and instead starve to a point of hibernation, essentially dying within the void without anyone to resuscitate them with their blood.
Schrödinger’s power was his only avenue for change, even if it wasn’t effective as a means of escape. No matter if there was nothing waiting for him on the other side, no matter if using these powers might leave him fundamentally changed, he had to try. Even if it killed him.
With Schrödinger’s life-blood fueling him, Alucard had renewed energy to begin his search. He turned to look at the wall again, gradually accustoming himself to peering into the vast amount of visual information without becoming overwhelmed. He touched a hand to one image and it moved with him, shifting the others around it. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to their organization, each scene as hopelessly jumbled as all the souls had been when he unleashed them upon Millennium. Though the longer Alucard stared, the more accustomed he became to parsing through them.
It wasn’t long before Alucard found scenes directly relating to him; first it was locations in England, then the countryside, then Hellsing employees, then the Hellsing manor itself. It took him aback when he first saw it. Last he knew, the building had been completely destroyed during Millennium’s petty little war stunt, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. Yet here it stood, rebuilt as if nothing had happened.
How long, then? How long would it take to rebuild such a structure? Months? Years? Alucard wasn’t familiar with the logistics of planning and executing such a large project but he hazarded to guess it would at least take several years for the whole ordeal. It was here where he was again faced with the reality of his situation: how much time had passed?
Even worse, he wasn’t able to see into the manor upon first examination. It was as though a dark cloud was cast over the entire building, blocking him from entering. The same happened whenever he tried to find someone he knew. Integra, Seras, the Frenchman, all were obscured from him. He could at least tell that they were still alive, which lifted some weight from his shoulders, but it was no less reassuring that he was unable to see them. He pushed it aside for now. At least he knew that Hellsing and its occupants still stood.
Now, with his mind somewhat put at ease, he could focus on harnessing the Cat’s powers. He looked to the opposite end of the ‘room’ where the wall of images seemed to cut off and he closed his eyes, searching in his mind for the feeling of dread that had been bugging him since his escape from the void. It seemed to hide from him now that he was actively trying to use it. The Cat’s endless annoyances now extended to the powers he’d inadvertently bestowed upon Alucard. He cursed the boy and again tried to focus on that strange feeling, picturing where he wanted to go in his mind’s eye.
Alucard gasped, stumbling back. It was as if the Cat’s powers were controlling him and not the other way around; his body felt strained and fragmented, like it was being pulled apart again, and Alucard was losing his grip on himself. His mind felt numb, like he was in a drunken state. His thoughts wandered aimlessly; would it be so bad if he just gave into that feeling? Wouldn’t all this pain and stress disappear if he just allowed himself to stop existing?
Then, he was falling and the room was closing in around him, everything growing dark except for a tiny speck of light at the corner of his vision. It wouldn’t be so bad to let go, now that he thought about it. At least he wouldn’t have to starve to death anymore…
His body jerked and he was suddenly himself again, his mind snapping out of the stupor that he nearly lost himself to. He looked around, realizing that he hadn’t gone anywhere, only stumbled to the ground in his confusion. He scowled and stood again. How the Cat managed to manifest and use this power was beyond his understanding, much less how its powers worked to begin with. But if he were to escape, he had to be determined to master this ability.
Alucard continued working at it for a long while, keeping track of the passage of time by the changes he observed in the outside world. Trees grew greener, then wilted, and died a dozen times over, carrying many seasons along with them as the old vampire became increasingly frustrated with his attempts at escape. He would not leave this prison until he was sure he could harness the Cat’s powers. As much as he wanted to leave, the risk wasn’t worth it.
Years dragged on and Alucard still found himself feeling unsure. His control waxed and waned, sometimes causing him to appear back into the void and other times causing him to lose himself entirely, making days pass by as though they were minutes wherein he no longer existed. These incidents were always the most concerning; Alucard had no recollection of the time in-between and only knew about it due to the changes observed on the wall of images. Even then, he couldn’t be sure exactly how much time had passed, only that he’d been gone for a long time. So he continued, day in and day out, working out the kinks of the Cat’s powers and trying to find a way to safely return home.
Alucard paced along the wall more frequently, his body and mind alike starting to deteriorate as the strength afforded from Schrödinger’s blood diminished. When he grew tired of toying with the Cat’s powers he passed the time by searching the Hellsing manor again, trying to find some weak point in the impenetrable darkness surrounding the building. Then, one day, as if hearing his silent pleas, he was suddenly able to peer into the mansion as well as any other building he’d seen.
Unfamiliar faces littered the building from staff, to soldiers, to what appeared to be Vatican agents, with the latter hurriedly leaving. Alucard’s lips pursed as one familiar face appeared within the hallway: the Frenchman, though something was very wrong. He materialized from the wall as if he were a shadow, his form wavering as he shook his wrist in what appeared to be… pain? Then, another familiar sight: Seras running down the hall to greet him, talking quickly as she looked Pip over, concern written on her face. Pip soon shook his head and the two of them shared a laugh before they went their separate ways again, Seras waving as Pip chuckled and disappeared back into the wall.
Strange wasn’t even close to describing what Alucard saw. Concerning might be a better word. Whatever powers Seras and Pip had developed over the course of an unknown amount of time was the least of his concern at this point. For all he knew, this could be an alternate version of events, and he may not even be returning to his own home. But, really, what else did he have to go on?
As the Frenchman melted away into the wall, a black haze came over Alucard’s vision. He glanced at one of the other images along the wall and, seeing that nothing had changed, he returned to looking at the place where the Hellsing manor once stood. Whatever these new powers were, Pip or Seras must have some ability to protect the manor if he was blocking Alucard’s view. It seemed that Alucard was not the only one who had changed in his time away from reality.
An uncomfortable thought gnawed at the back of his mind all throughout his excursion through the manor; what was his excuse, now? There was no longer any uncertainty about the others’ survival and no uncertainty about their safety, but he still didn’t know how much time had passed, and it gave him pause. If Alucard had changed so much in this intervening time, how much more had the others changed?
He put it out of his mind for now, concerning himself with the mechanics of his return. He was able to see what the manor looked like in the present, so he should be able to travel there without issue. Of course ‘without issue’ was a loose term when it came to his newfound powers, but the trip at least shouldn’t be as difficult as it once was. Alucard now faced that same choice from years ago. He sighed: there were no more excuses, now. Time was running out for him, and if he didn’t try, he’d just rot away in this place, gone without a whisper or a care.
He searched the wall of images as he’d done many times before, each fragment of reality now familiar to him. He couldn’t be sure he would be able to appear in the manor due to Pip or Seras’s restrictions. Hell, he had only recently been able to teleport to-and-fro within this prison room with any amount of consistency. And with the weakness creeping back up on him, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep control of this power for long.
It was now or never, whether he wanted it to be or not. He warily eyed the place where the manor once was. If he were to try to get back to reality, he would have to go somewhere familiar. He was still unsure of how these powers would affect him if he attempted to return, and though he hated the idea of calling upon the others for aid, it might be necessary if he botched the return trip.
Alucard weighed his options and an unusual amount of emotion welled within him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed existing until now, how much he missed having a purpose in his un-life even if it was to serve the design of humans. He smiled as he recalled the first time he met Integra, protecting the fearful little girl who would grow into the proud woman he’d become so fond of. He even smiled as he thought back on the other Hellsings: Arthur, William, Abraham, each one a strong leader in their own way. Then, he thought of Seras. How proud he’d been when he watched her accept her own powers and come into her own as a fully-fledged vampire. The thought of seeing how she’d come along in the intervening years excited him as much as it tugged at his heart; he hadn’t been there to witness it. He wasn’t able to help foster that growth, even in his own begrudging way. Alucard even found himself missing England itself. Though it had been his unwilling home for many decades, he’d come to appreciate it and the people living there, along with all their quirks.
Alucard’s smile faded as he stepped towards the wall of images, extending a hand to touch the one that displayed the grounds surrounding the manor. The image wavered with his touch but remained in place. This wouldn’t be much different from the times he teleported inside this room, or at least he told himself that. Once he was nearer to the manor, it would be simple to find a way inside, and then maybe he could finally rest…
He drew a deep breath. No time to waste, now; he could feel his control over these powers waning with each passing second as his body strained to give him its last bit of strength. Alucard focused his mind on the image before him, his thoughts filling with a desire to go home, with a desire to see them again, to have a purpose again. Then, his hand sank into the image as if it was drawing him in, the now-familiar feeling of unease seeping into every cell in his body, and Alucard disappeared for a final time.
Commission done for @michi-tala I really do enjoy drawing Vlad ❤️ Thank you sis for commissioning me, the bedsheets and the bed frame weren't easy to do. I hope they look okay.
Do you think you could do Vladdy in a soulmate au? I rarely ever see those.
Ooooo this took me a while cause I had to find a scenario that would fit him.
The red string of fate attaches itself to a person once they turn 16. However his never appeared on his 16th nameday. Vlad assumed he was one of the few who simply didn't have a soulmate.
Was he jealous? A bit at first. Everyone else got to have a person born just for them, but as the years went by he stopped caring. Especially once he became immortal. He saw it as another way for God to turn his back on him.
Imagine his surprise when he returned 30 years later to see a thin, dim red string attached to his pinky. He thought it was a joke, maybe a trick of the light and maybe it would go away. But no matter how much he stared and tried to ignore it, it never faltered.
Why now though? After 500 and some years did his string finally appear? Could it be that his partner simply wasn't around yet? Did he really have to wait this long? He was putting too much thought into this and it was easier to ignore it all.
That was until he noticed that one day it seemed brighter then normal. That brightness increased until he knew they had to be close. His curiosity got the better of him and he started to subtly look for them.
Of course his curiosity was rewarded and led him to one of his favorite hunting grounds.
His S/O was just as confused as he was. When they turned 16, their string was black. A telltale sign that their soulmate had already passed. The constant condolences they received was as annoying as it was awkward.
They considered following the black thread to their deceased soulmate's grave, but that would be awkward wouldn't it? It wasn't like they knew them. They were curious about who their soulmate was. When and how they died. But never acted on it. That black string was a constant reminder of their "bad luck" though.
Over the years they lived their life, a few months away from entering their 30's. Dating others here and there but never anything long lasting or serious. Until one night they decided to go on a blind date at a night club.
Things were going alright, despite the fact they were getting a bad vibe from their date. It wasn't until an announcement made by the DJ that things really started to feel... off.
Many couple went out to the dance floor, including them and their date. Despite their protests they agreed to one dance before leaving for the night. Bodies were packed together so tightly on the dance floor there was hardly room to move.
After a few minutes a scream tore through the air. Then another, and another. People panicked and started running, trampling over others to get away. Once the crowd cleared they saw why people were running. A few people were being held down while others were, biting them? All they could really make out the growing amount of blood as the victims struggles died out.
They too tried to run, only to be pinned down by their "date". They flashed a huge grin, exposing their enlarged canines. They tried begging and pleading only to have their mouth covered and their pleas becoming muffled. But before they could do anything a gunshot rang out, even over the loud music.
More screaming rang out as bullets tore through the monsters in human skin. Their "date" let them go in an effort to run away. They didn't get far at all, they too were shot down quickly. Their hot blood spraying over them, leaving them thoroughly scared and in shock.
A pair of black boots appeared in their line of sight after a moment. When did things get so quiet? Their eyes continued to travel upwards to theirr would be savoir, or executioner. They never made it to the strangers face.
Their eyes stopped at their hands, clad in white gloves and both carrying very large handguns. But that wasn't what caught their attention. Attached to one hand was a very bright string of red. A string that not only pointed to themselves, but seemed to connect to the black string on their own hand.
"This wasn't how I expected us to meet." His voice was deep yet gentle, prompting them to look up at the man in front of them. His clothes were surprisingly spotless considering the carnage around them. His long wavy hair almost seem to flow around him as he gazed down at you.
Slowly his mustached lip split into a smile as he put the guns away. His bright red eyes seemed to gaze into their very soul as he knelt down to their level, careful not to startle them.
