Tanya
Hellsing Manor
Carefully, I straightened my tie as I sat back, relaxing after filling out the last bit of reports. This job, man, this job was something after my last life's comedic end in an artillery shell blast.
I decided that I would not be taking any careers in the military. No, sorry, never again. Instead, I'd gone into personal security, as I had grown up. I mean, I had several skills for fighting, even in this world where I did not have magic, so I might as well make some good use of it. Plus, my knowledge of personnel management and a general good work ethic gave me plenty of routes to improve.
So here I was in Merry Old England, serving as a member of the security support staff for some organization known as Hellsing. I'd been hired here several years ago and worked my way up the ladder quickly. I quickly found out that, well, Hellsing wasn't as personal security-oriented as I originally thought.
With a heavily militarized police force like I saw driving in and out, I assumed we had provided special security for nobles or something. But if you got further up the chain of command, you started finding out things. I wasn't high enough to know everything, but I did know the basics: vampires were real, and some other supernatural things were real as well, and Hellsing put them down. Apparently, the tradition went far back into the past where Dracula had been killed by Professor Hellsing.
Though I noticed that this information lined up quite well with my understanding of a certain book, which was surprising. Last life, there were no similarities between one life and the other. I was putting this new development down to string theory. Maybe there were thousands of parallel universes, millions of universes, and maybe certain people could get glimpses into other universes. The best explanation I could get for these similarities, though there were differences as well from what I understood. But either way, not really a problem for me.
I was not one of the specialty squads sent out to handle the problems that cropped up, vampires, ghouls, and other monstrosities. No, I got to sit back in a nice cushy office, making sure all the bullets were counted, the guns maintained, and my life was secure. I was in one of the most fortified complexes in all of England, and sure, I did have some concern when I went home at night, but well, one specialty thing about working for Hellsing is it's kind of easy to get rights to own guns. England doesn't have as lax laws on weaponry as the United States, but when you have a contract from the government saying you're fighting the forces of darkness, well, let's just say I'd managed to get myself a small collection of weaponry at my house.
Back right this very moment, I had a 1911 on my side, and there was an emergency weapon in the metal closet off to my right that would maintain my safety, I believed. Yes, I know the 1911 is old, but well, having fought through one World War, it had given me a taste for the classics. At home, I had a couple of Lugers, safely locked up, of course, and a few rifles from back then.
It's not like I didn't have some more advanced weaponry here and there, but if I was going to buy something, it was probably going to be something that I was familiar with. I had a lot of familiar memories fighting Americans, Russians, and Italians with certain weapons that I had captured over the years. I even managed to find a replica of the submachine gun I'd taken off that madman who tried to blow me up.
But that was beside the point. Life was good. I was making a good amount of money. I had a secure job, a secure life, and there was some concern about vampires being a real thing. But hey, every day, millions of people stepped into the ocean to go for a swim, and maybe 30 of them would be bitten by a shark over the course of a year. The same thing applied to vampires. Yes, they existed, and yes, it was a traumatic event, but you were as likely to be bitten by one as getting hit by lightning, maybe even less so.
"Hey, hot stuff, how you doing?" said a familiar voice from my office doorway. I turned and looked over, seeing a man in a red coat and a wide-brimmed hat.
"Special Operator Alucard," I said, giving him a nod before adding, "You know, that could be considered sexual harassment."
"Sorry, dear. I just heard that it was a good compliment to give someone as beautiful as you."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Your pickup lines suck, and I'm not interested," matter-of-factly, looking away from the Special Operator. Alucard, as he liked to be called. He was higher up in the company, though I didn't know his exact position. All I knew was that he was very good at killing vampires and was deployed against them quite a lot. He seemed to hang around my office a bit.
"Don't you have a new student to train? What was her name again? Oh yes, Special Operator Cerise."
"She's getting some training, no worries on that," Alucard said as he relaxed in the doorway. "I just thought I'd pay my favorite mystery a visit."
"Mystery?" I said with a raised eyebrow. "Is that some new pickup line you're trying, Alucard?"
The man chuckled before saying, "No, no. I just always find it interesting that for someone who's so young, around 20 or so, I guess, you smell so much death."
I blanked, confused, sniffing my clothing, wondering if I'd forgotten to put on deodorant or something.
Alucard chuckled before saying, "It's not an actual smell, dear. It's more of a sense of your soul being tainted by what you have done."
"What I've done is work at a company for years, shuffling logistics around and making sure you have the ammunition to blow the monsters under the bed back under the bed and in through the floor," I said matter-of-factly. "Of course, I smell of death then, if that's your implication. Every logistics officer who's ever given the order to move artillery ammo to the front would share that same smell, I think."
"No, no," Alucard replied. "Although it's very interesting that you went with artillery. Queens of the battlefield and all that. Now, the smell feels less like indirect murder and more like personally killing someone a couple of thousand times. I guess there is a sense to it that does feel a bit like you may have had a hand in more deaths than you think."
My eyebrow raised at this point because, well, besides Alucard being weird, if you looked at it from far enough away, it sounded like he was describing my second life. If he did have some sort of sixth sense, it would explain why he was a special operator. Please tell me there isn't some form of magic that allows people to determine things.
Shaking my head, I said, "Well, that's an interesting theory, but the only thing I've killed in this life is probably three trees, with the amount of paperwork I've had to file."
"Hmm, well, very interesting. If you ever feel like talking about the mass murderers I know you've probably been involved in, feel free to stop by. You know where it is, behind the grandfather clock on the first floor. Just walk down the steps," Alucard said with a nod, turning his coat, which caught in the wind.
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," I said, leaning back in my chair.
I kind of got a bad feeling about Alucard, you know, the kind of bad feeling where if you don't have a family that's going to check up on you, you should go out with a guy. Something about him was just wrong, not to mention his occasional comments on my proportions.
I may have been orphaned this life like my last, but I had had a good life when it came to getting plenty of food and sustenance, so I had not taken the malnutrition route. I ended up 5'8" with a bust that kind of got in the way of some work.
Really, if he wasn't so high up in the company and so important for dealing with these monsters, I probably would report him for sexual harassment from his comments, especially the "honkers" comment. That one had been rather degrading.
Shaking my head, I reached out for a pen and pulled out the next paperwork confirmation of the new anti-material rifle shipment. Why were we getting anti-material rifles? I don't know. You'd think that vampires could be killed off with just a .308. .50 cal seemed a bit of an overkill. But hey, I wasn't paid to give my comments on killing vampires. I was paid to make sure ammunition flowed into this building so that they could kill vampires.
Everything else? Well, that wasn't my concern. I was simply a gear in the machine, one that was very efficient at doing my job.
And I was efficient at that job. I lost track of time, quickly going through about 30 pieces of paperwork for various supplies, making sure that we would have the weapons needed for whatever conflict that spawned up.
I only stopped when I felt a little bit of hunger. Leaning back, I'd seen it worked for two more hours, and it was 12:00 in the day. I just had a good day; it was halfway done. Soon, I'll be able to go home and enjoy the fruits of my labor. For now, though, I got up, cleaning my pantsuit off a bit and brushing away the various dust that floats about in such an old building. I moved over to the coffee maker, which was keeping a good pot warm. I poured out some and sipped it, enjoying it, though not finding it as good as what I made at home. Hopefully, my suggestion about allowing office workers to bring in their supplies for coffee would be accepted because I would enjoy being able to make something a little bit better than this.
Another one in for the second sip, I heard the sound of rapid gunfire. I stood there for a second, confused, and then I heard more gunshots, and more. I put my cup down and started moving towards the metal filing cabinet.
What was going on? I don't know. Perhaps Larry down in accounting finally snapped. Either way, carefully, I opened up the metal cabinets, revealing my "problem solver."
With all the special licenses and the amount of money I was making, as well as the occasional threat on the house, I've been able to pull off a bit of a coup when it came to my safety. I know I'd reached in and pulled out the MG3. I simply smiled. I hadn't had a chance to fire one of these since my time in the empire. The name of the basic design was the same. Clearing off my desk and lining it up so it was pointing towards the only door into the office, I took a seat and waited.
After all, there's only one way in, and I had probably a thousand rounds of ammunition. I could get rid of anything that tried to kill me.
Carefully, I listened, trying to determine where the enemy was. I heard gunshots, screams, men dying, and generally the sound of people not having a good time. I probably should have done something to block the door better, but, well, I only had so much time, and if I got up now, I left myself vulnerable to something coming through the door while I was away from the gun.
The best plan? Stay hidden or just shoot anything that tries to enter the door. Probably the best way to survive was to just not be seen, so I just had to hope that nothing tried to open that door in front of me.
At that thought, something tried to open the door in front of me. The door, though, was apparently locked. Alucard must have flipped the lock switch when he was leaving. Now I'd done that just because he was being annoying or just being him; either one is possible, as it would have prevented paperwork from coming into my office and allowed me to get my work done faster.
"What the heck is going on?" came a nasally voice. I heard a moan or a groan, and then there was a response, "You smell flesh on the other side of this door, so some poor bastard's hiding away inside here. We'll freaking break the door down."
There was another moan or groan, and then banging on the door.
The said door was rather heavily wooded, but even heavy wood doesn't last forever under a constant beating. Hopefully, whatever was trying to break in would tire itself out or give up, I vainly hoped, putting my finger on the trigger and making sure the safety was off.
"This is taking too freaking long," then a nasally voice said before firing several shots into the door at the lock, the knob slowly being freed from the door until it fell free.
I carefully aimed the weapon at the door, waiting for it to be pulled open. Unfortunately, I didn't point it at the hole that had just been made as a face appeared there for a second before popping back, saying, "Oh crap, there's a hot chick in there! Get this thing open, get her killed! I need a stripper or something when this is over."
There was a moan, and then two hands reached into the hole, pulling the door off its hinges in the wrong direction. Apparently, whatever was being guided by the nasal man was extremely strong.
The door popped free, revealing members of the Hellsing task force reduced to nothing but zombies as they staggered in the door. I pulled the trigger and unleashed the MG3, firing rounds into their guts, which didn't seem to do anything. So, I tried to level up, aiming for their heads, which did blow a couple of them off and sent the bodies down onto the ground. But there were just so many charging into my little office. There wasn't much I could do. I kept firing rounds, and then some of them managed to get out to the side. Grabbing my pistol from my side, I fired shots into their heads, still holding the trigger with my left hand to unleash rounds into the oncoming horde.
This battle was decided the moment I realized that my rounds weren't able to kill them quickly enough, and as my guns ran dry, I knew that this was it. This was my freaking death. Damn Being X, did it again.
"Remember, tear her, but don't break her. It's funnier when they're still, you know, in one piece. Have her ready for me when I'm back. Got to go deal with the boss lady," a voice said.
Freaking Being X, I thought as the zombies swarmed me, using their guns and other weapons to beat me, trying to get at my throat. I know as one of them attempted to gnaw at my clavicle.
I thought it was just me, an average human woman versus about 10 ghouls. Before long, I was losing a lot of blood and cursing Being X's name as another life ended. Hopefully, I would go to a new body when I died, not be trapped in this wandering corpse until it was destroyed. That sounded like a horrible life, especially with whatever the heck was wrong with that nasal guy.
In my last act, I might as well make it good. Flipping the bird to the sky, I screamed, "Freak you, Being X!"
God
"Oh, another cursed soul, damning me for their own flaws," I thought, feeling the sensation of some force of hate being sent my way.
Shaking my head, I reached out for my cigarette, lighting it up and taking a drag as I leaned back in my suit behind my desk.
Theoretically, I could complain, "Why does everyone blame me for their own mistakes? It's not like I'm responsible for their actions. That's what free will is for. All I do is make sure everything in the universe keeps running, and I get blamed for that. I mean, it's not like I'm even out to get people. Nowadays, people are very useful, inventing things that I haven't really thought of. Tools like the pair of glasses sitting on my face, for example, allow me to get my work done a lot easier without straining my eyes. A cigarette is a calming thing, and though among humans, it would have killed them eventually, as a supreme being, well, you enjoy what you have."
Shaking my head, though, it was time to stop putting off my work. It wasn't something I liked to do anyways; efficiency was the best way to do things. Reaching out, I grabbed the paperwork that had spawned into existence, belonging to the soul that was cursing me.
Strange, I thought. The paperwork registered the person as 20 or 22, not very old. But going through it, I saw inaccuracies that made no sense. There was talk of a businessman from Japan, a personal security officer in England, and a soldier from Germany. Let's see, things like this were seen before in schizophrenics, multiple personality syndrome. Really, when you start seeing things like this, the only thing you could do is actually check the health of the soul to determine what was most likely the reality of them.
Checking the soul, I quickly saw it was dead black. Well, another soul I had seen a long time ago, hundreds of dead, murdered for the defense of one's country, thousands even more through their actions. And what's worse, they had apparently worshipped me. Doing some research, from what I was reading here, they were crazy. They kept referring to me as "Being X," but people always used different names for me depending on their region. This was a new one, but it was still just another name for me.
Shaking my head, I reached over for a stamp I hadn't used in a long time. Carefully, I popped open a red inkwell and put the stamp on it, pressing down to give it a good coat.
This individual was a monster, a walking creature that should not have been created. Such a person did not deserve a proper afterlife; they deserved damnation. Cursing me was one thing, but doing that when all they had ever done was cause harm to the people around them? Well, there was a place for those people, and that place was the planet they were on. They were to be hunted as the monsters they were.
I hoped this Tanya enjoyed her new life as a creature of the night.
Tanya
"Why am I not dead?" That was the first thought that came to me, along with, "Why is there copper in my mouth? Where the hell am I?"
Those questions were quickly answered as I pulled myself together, realizing that I had been piled up amidst a heap of corpses. It was probably a deep pile, judging by my surroundings. So, why was I in this mound of lifeless bodies? Well, probably because someone had just tried to kill me and, thankfully, failed. For sure, they had made an attempt; I could feel them ripping my throat open. But hey, I'd take a win when I could get one. As for the copper taste in my mouth, it turned out to be blood that had drained down from higher up in the pile. There was quite a lot of blood around me, uncomfortably so. Carefully, I wormed my way out, shoving my body free of the corpses. Something felt off about it all.
As I tunneled my way through the pile and pushed myself out, I found myself in a grand entryway. Carefully, I stood up, still feeling disoriented. Something was definitely amiss. I patted down my red-soaked flight suit, then paused. This wasn't the suit I had been in when I had just died. Instead, it was my flight suit from my previous life. But wait a minute... Where were my... assets?
Confused, I stumbled over to a nearby mirror, brushing away some blood splatter to get a good look at myself. What I saw shocked me. I appeared to be about four or five years younger, probably around 15, and looked as malnourished as the day I had died. This was all very perplexing.
A grown man came from behind me, and I quickly turned to see one of the ghouls approaching. I didn't have time to fully comprehend my situation; I just knew I needed to act before I ended up dead again. Rushing forward, I smashed into it, pushing it into the pile of corpses and then pummeling it, ripping the gun out of its hand before firing a few shots into its head, splattering blood and brains everywhere. I checked to ensure there were no other crawling monstrosities nearby and saw none. So, I started grabbing the ghoul's gear. A P90 wasn't the best weapon, but it was better than nothing. I grabbed its rounds and added them to my kit. I couldn't help but wonder why my flight suit was soaked red with blood.
Then, that wonderful smell caught my attention. It was everywhere, and it confused me. I put my hand down and sniffed a bit, following the scent to realize it was the blood itself. All of it, all around me, just smelled good. Something was not right here, something was extremely wrong. If I wanted to survive, I'd have to get to work cleaning out these monsters. I could worry about whatever was wrong with me and why this had happened after this place was clear of these creatures. So, I set a goal: kill the monsters first, figure out what's wrong with me, and fix it later.
Taking a deep breath, I got to work. Stepping out of the main hallway, I found one or two of the ghouls and unleashed a rain of bullets into their backs, severing their spinal cords from their heads, causing them to topple forward. I knew I only had another burst of ammunition left for another attack.
As I checked the top of the P90, I kept moving quickly and found a third target. I aimed with precision and took it down.
Turning the corner as I was reloading, I stumbled right into another group, slightly larger, about four or five. I quickly clicked the ammo carrier into place and fired shots, killing them as swiftly as possible to clear my path. Unfortunately, two of them made it into close range, and I had to engage in hand-to-hand combat. To my surprise, it was rather easy to rip the limb off one and beat the other to death.
Looking at the detached limb, I had to wonder: did my strength increase, or were these things just easier to fight because they were walking zombies?
The answer was not very apparent, so I did the only thing I could do—move forward and hope I would find one later on. After all, I had to find that bastard who ordered my death to begin with. I told myself not to worry about all this other stuff for now, such as this newfound hunger to suck up some of that blood. Wait, oh no, yeah, I need to kill that bastard now.
Alucard
Shaking my head, I looked down at the bloody spots on the ground. That was all that was left of the fake vampire who dared to challenge me. What a pitiful excuse for a creature—no servants, no magic, not even a demon or two. Its special powers were benign, to say the least.
What a fool. All he had accomplished was to destroy my new TV. I had been enjoying some good cable for once. Oh well, I guess I should do something about the invasion that's going on here. Yes, I've been told to stay in the basement, but I think I've made my point by this point. And hopefully, we'll get something more out of it.
I reached over for my coat and put it on. I was reaching for my hat when I felt a change in the air.
"Oh, what is that?" I said, looking up the stairs. The smell of desperation, hate, and death was concocted in a way that could only be from a vampire, one with quite a large kill count.
"Is this another challenger?" I had to hold back my excitement as I grabbed my pistols and put them on my sides. After all, just because there was a potential this opponent being worth the time didn't mean it actually would be.
Moving up the stairs at a pace that only the supernatural could accomplish, I came to what used to be a grandfather clock blocking the entrance, destroyed by the pitiful thing that called itself a vampire. Trying to determine where this creature was, which direction, but then I heard gunfire off to my left, which gave me a good notion of where.
Smiling widely, I strolled down the hallway, breaking the necks of the dead fiends left here or there to wander the facility. "Poor man," I thought as I passed a dead man named Johnny. "What's good, soldier? Heck, Johnny over there used to do great Bill Clinton." My thoughts wandered as I continued down the hallway until I found the source of the gunfire.
In front of me were several zombies, already near dead as they had been riddled with bullets. Some had only managed to stand due to a few missed shots in the head, but they weren't important. They were background characters to the villain before me.
A young girl, no more than 15, I'd guess. She was beating the hell out of the zombies with a submachine gun in one hand and a blade in the other, cutting the creatures down as best as she could. She was doing a good job at the cutting part—her blade sliced through things that I probably wouldn't have expected a person with the normal amount of muscle to do. But with a vampire's level of muscle, well, that was the right expectation.
Out of curiosity, I noted that she was attacking the zombies, which meant they weren't allied or under her control. How interesting. What could have caused her to be fighting them?
The girl didn't match any descriptions of anyone who was on the complex as far as I could tell. Her uniform was splattered in red blood. "Wow, spider" wasn't the right term; I would almost say dyed, considering the blood color. By the blood obviously been ingesting, if there were indications by the edges of her mouth and the amount that has in her hair, she'd probably gone rogue at some point. Either that or she had bathed in blood before starting fighting, which I don't know, could be possible. The real question was how wild were they.
Stepping into the hallway, I drew out my silver pistol and brought it to aim at the girl, aiming for her shoulder just to see what I could do. I fired off a shot and watched as she reacted with superhuman speed. She turned, saw the threat, realized that she wasn't going to be able to get out of the way in time, and held out her hand. Surprisingly, blood leaked from the bodies around her to form a shield, catching the bullet in what can only be described as blood magic.
"Oh, now that's interesting," I said, keeping the gun pointed at the girl. "Blood magic, a very rare gift for a vampire, especially one who is supposedly fake. Of course, you're not. Must be fake vampires who have invaded this manner. Unlikely, we don't really have visitors here, and I don't recognize you."
I said, "No, no," as I sniffed the air. Something about her did seem familiar.
"Fuck you, Alucard," said a voice that was definitely familiar as I raised an eyebrow over my sunglasses.
"Tanya, oh no, this is interesting even beyond what's normal. How did you become a vampire? Cursing God as you were dying, committing hundreds of murders in the name of God is usually how that's accomplished. And as far as I know, we're just a cell servant of our fine installation. Hmm, of course, my theory about you having the smell of death about you is more true than normal, and something else is wrong with you."
Tanya scouted before turning to fire off the last of her magazine into one of the remaining undead, killing it before turning back to me.
"I will have you know that I did no such thing. I cursed being EX, and as for worshipping him, I was forced to worship him in another life, so that should not count."
"Wait, what? Another life? Are you saying you've reincarnated? It's not even a thing. I don't think that's a thing. I mean, I thought it was a thing, but Professor Helsing sort of showed me that I was wrong on that matter."
"I don't care what your existential crisis is," Tanya said as she started to reload her gun. "All I care about is killing these bastards and getting to the whiny little shit who tried to have me killed. Don't care about... wait, did you just say I was a vampire?"
"Ba hahaha," that was not much else I could do, this was hilarious, and it was going to create such chaos and fun that I could not wait to see where this went. The only downside of this situation was the girl had lost her chest, why had she reverted to a child? Oh, this was going to be fun to just dissect on multiple levels. The chaos was going to drive Integra insane.