Chapter One
The Forgotten Child

June 21, 2011

12:00 am.

Dark shadows filtered long and dreary over the still smoking rubble of what was once the proud, formidable Hellsing Manor. Bats were flying high over the ruins, a peculiar awareness about them. Even from high above the ground, where they hovered silently, the screams of an infant girl-child could be heard, terror filled and only wanting the comfort of a parent.

The bat’s converged slowly as they headed toward the ground and the source of the screaming. A few moments later, the form of a tall man could just barely be made out against the shadows. He walked over to a pile of rubble and in no time at all had found the child. With all the gentleness in the world, he picked up the girl and held her tenderly in his arms.

Alucard looked down at his daughter and a grim sort of look passed over his face as he spoke to her.
“I have love for few people in the world, Gabriella Miranda Hellsing. But I love you…and whether you consciously forget that in the years to come, deep down you will always know…stay strong, my child. Stay strong…”

1:00 am.

Paladin Alexander Anderson was walking through the rubble of the Hellsing mansion, poking and prodding odd bits and pieces of rock or plaster or metal with his knives. He didn’t want to be out here…but here he was. Oh well…orders were orders.
Suddenly he heard a soft crying sound from the other side of the rubble, and went to investigate. He had expected to find maybe an injured dog or even a nice Hellsing troop to stab… but what he found, though, was not what he had expected. Not more than a foot in front of his feet laid a healthy but pale little girl with a head of silvery-blonde hair and the most peculiar red eyes. Quickly, he picked the child up, and only when he had lifted her did he notice what was on the ground beside her. A wide-brimmed, red hat and a pair of gloves with binding sigils on the back and a pair of glasses.

Anderson understood now. The child in his arms was the child of that vampyre filth, Alucard and his Master. But Director Maxwell had insisted that should he find any survivors, he was to bring them back…alive. Again, orders were orders…no matter how much he hated it.
With the little girl tucked securely in his arms and the gloves and hat in one of his weird fourth-dimensional-like pockets, he made his way back to Rome…


“Are you telling me you found this little…vampyre child, lying out in the middle of that charred mess and Alucard was no where to be found?”

Maxwell asked, amazed. He would’ve thought that the girl being Alucard’s daughter and all, that he would’ve at least cared for the little thing…but he did not know the reasoning of such bad beasts...so he was not going to dwell on it.

“Yis. Whit are we ginna do whit her?” Anderson asked, a little anxious for some reason.

Maxwell looked down at the small bundle in his arms, and wiggled his fingers in front of the little girls face, making her giggle and smile a tiny fanged smile. He then smirked up at the stoic priest.

“I believe that you are going to raise her,” he said softly, rocking the baby girl back and forth to sleep.

Anderson’s eyes widened. “I dun want ta raise an’thing related teh thon vampyre!” he nearly bellowed in rage.

Maxwell glared at him sharply. “You will raise her because YOU found her. We did not expect this to happen, but now that it has, we will make the best of it. If you need help, though, just ask Heinkel or Yumi.”

Anderson shook his head softly as the director handed him the infant. He looked down at the child in his arms and sighed as he walked away. If he had to raise the girl, then he was definitely going to need the help of the women.
Damn it all to hell…



)O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O(

September 21, 2018

11:30 pm.

Gabriella was in one of the studios her suedo-fathers’ and suedo-mothers’ had had made for her a couple of years ago, when she had started her training with the nuns and priests in Section XIII. Currently she was making good use of the targets at the other end of the room by aiming and shooting at them with her newly acquired guns. One was silver, and the other was black, and both were rather large for her small eight year old hands, but she was able to use them anyway, and efficiently too.

Father Anderson was standing behind the girl, watching, quite impressed, as she hit dead center on every target, and grinned ferally when she caught sight of him. Walking forward, he nodded for her to put her guns away and sat down on the bench directly behind her.
Looking up at her, since she was still standing, he said, “Good job, chit. Dinna show them targets an oonce o’ mercy!”

Gabriella giggled, and sat down beside the man she considered her father. “I try,” she smiled, her British accent quite thick despite the fact that she had lived in the Vatican City for most of her life.

Anderson smiled a rare smile and pulled a large, oddly wrapped package from inside his jacket. Handing it to her, he grinned. “Its taum fer yeh tae learn the trick o’ the trade.”

She looked down at the package in her arms, then slid down to the floor and laid it down gently. Moments later, she had the wrapping paper in a heap beside her and a large grin on her fair, pale features.

“Y...your knives!” she gasped, looking down at the multitude of bayonets in the package. “You’re giving me your knives?! I don’t deserve such a gift!” she said quite elegantly for an eight year old.

“Yes yeh do chit,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning forward to rest them on his knees. “Yeh’ve been training since yeh were five years old. Yeh deserve every bit o’ them.”

Gabriella’s eyes involuntarily filled up with tears…happy tears. Meanwhile, Anderson sat back again and pulled open one side of his jacket. With a grin, he pulled out one of his customary blessed blades and showed it to her.

“Besauds,” he said, his eyes gleaming maniacally, “Those are jus copies, chit. Yeh weel learn teh make yer own soon ‘nough.”

Gabriella nodded, then got up and hugged him. “Thank you Father,” she said softly, smiling through her tears when he hugged her back, brushing her long red-blonde hair from her face as a loving father would.

)O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O(

Year: 2028

Gabriella dodged the bullets being shot at her with frightening efficiency. Across a dark alley in the danker part of Rome, a young-looking, rather large-breasted blonde woman was shooting at her with guns that looked suspiciously like her own.

“Stand still, you Vatican Witch!” She screamed at Gabriella, anger flashing in her ruby eyes. “I’m going to collect the bounty on your bloody head whether you like it or not, so stop struggling!”

Gabriella grinned as she flashed past the girl, a blurred red-clothed form, yanking her backwards and off of her feet before she realized what had happened. She then moved to stand over her, using her own Vatican-trained vampyric powers to keep her legs and arms from moving too much. She pulled out one of her guns and a bayonet of her own making and pointed it at the girl.

“Who in the bloody hell are you, first off,” She sneered, anger fighting with humor flashing in her eyes, her wide-brimmed red hat low over her ruby eyes. “And why the in the name of God is there a bloody bounty on my head?”

The blonde, realizing that she was caught for the moment, decided to answer. She recognized the gun that the other was holding, and knew that they held blessed bullets…if they didn’t kill her, they would definitely hurt! She also knew about the bayonet…silver would hurt anyway…but blessed silver? She didn’t have the stomach or the patience right now to deal with a wound caused by that. She also wondered why the girl was dressed exactly as her Master had been, eighteen years ago…the red trench coat, the wide brimmed hat….the only thing different about the outfit was a vest-dress over the white blouse and dark pants. She sighed.

“I am Seras,” the girl on the pavement said bravely. “Seras Victoria. And I don’t know why there’s a bloody bounty on your snotty little head. I’ve just come to collect it…”

Gabriella thought for a moment, bayonet and gun still pointed at the girl. Why would there be a bounty on her head? No mortal could have placed it, because she was the most closely guarded “Secret Weapon” of the Vatican, next to her adoptive father. So it must have been another of…of her kind. She shivered at the thought, her ruby eyes flashing strangely as she looked back to the girl.

“Why are you so determined to get the bounty, Police Girl?” She asked, and carefully masked her own surprise at using a name she had never heard muttered in her life. She had the strange feeling that it was connected to her somehow…the phrase…or whoever had uttered it before her.
Seras, on the other hand, her eyes went wide and she dropped her gun in complete surprise. “What did you just call me?” she asked, said surprise evident in her voice.

Gabriella didn’t answer, but pulled her gun and bayonet away from the girl and walked away. “Leave me be, or I will kill you,” she called out as she walked away.

Seras smirked as she quickly stooped to pick up her gun. She took aim and fired at the girl, ignoring her warning, and was quite angry to find that the only thing the bullet hit…was thin air.
Gabriella was gone, in a flash of red and darkness.

)O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O(

Anderson sat alone in his room; a rosary wrapped around one hand as if in prayer, the other hand running nervously through his light blonde hair. Gabriella should’ve been back long before now, but she was not, and he was quite worried. He had no doubt that his suedo-daughter was as lethal and resourceful as her biological father had been, but even so…he still worried. He had raised the girl, after all.

He sighed. Despite all his initial misgivings about raising the vampyre girl-child, he had come to love her as his own daughter, and he knew Heinkel and Yumiko felt the same way. This, of course, led him to review his thoughts on vampyres, for apparently, not all were evil. He had come to love this little girl with all his heart, and he though he hated the family that had sired her with a passion, he had let her keep her true last name. He was also quite chagrined to realize that over the course of her young life…he had also taught her the Hellsing family history from books recovered out of the rubble all those years ago. It grated on his nerves though, that when Gabriella was quite young still, Father Maxwell had summoned Anderson to his office to inform him that “at some point in the future” he would have to kill the girl-now a woman- for being nothing more than what she was. It angered him when he could not afford to be angry…

He shook his head of such dark thoughts. As much as he had detested the duty of having to raise her when she was a baby, he cared far too much for her to ever harm her, or let another harm her. His life’s work was to get rid of such creatures as her kind…but…well, he was having doubts now. His morals, his beliefs…all had been questioned, reexamined, and broken in one way or another as he had raised the child, watched her learn and grow under his care. It was a strong bond, and her, he believed he would never be able to harm. He loved her as only a father would love a daughter, and it was a bond that could not be broken. Not even Maxwell would ever be able to compel him to harm his…his daughter.

He stood abruptly, the rosary slipping from his fingers and clattering hollowly to the floor. His room suddenly felt as though it was shrinking around him, and he was immediately on guard. A chill, a stab of the strangest worry, raced up his spine and he knew that Gabriella was back. He hurried from his room, passing Yumi and her weak hello as he made his way to his daughter’s room. He took only a moment to knock on her door before he entered, and he found her sitting curled up on the end of her bed, looking out of her window at the clear night beyond, her red-blonde hair matted and tangled, her crimson trench-coat tossed haphazardly on the floor, her hat along side it. She never did that to her clothing…something was seriously wrong with his little girl, though she was a little girl no longer.

“Whit happin’d, chit?” he asked as he moved over to her and sat down beside her.

She looked over at him, her eyes filled with worry and a strange sadness that she had never felt before. She did not speak…with her mouth, at least. Her face was paler than normal, and her veins could almost be clearly seen though the skin…

“There is a bounty on my head, Papa,” she thought, and the words echoed in Anderson’s head as if she had spoken out loud. “Who could’ve placed it? I thought no one knew of me but Section XIII!” She turned away from the window and went into the embrace of the man she called her father, his arms wrapped firmly around her shoulders. He had trained her to control her fear, but she was still very scared, and she knew that he could feel the slight, almost imperceptible tremors of confusion and fear run through her. Anderson, was angry…almost perceptibly so. But she was scared, so he held his own emotions in check and comforted her.

“Gabby, meh girl, dun worry so much,” he said, petting her hair comfortingly. “We weel find out whit’s going oon. I promise yeh, on all I hold holy!”

Gabriella looked up at her father and smiled. “Thank you Papa. You always know just what to say.” She said, closing her eyes and letting her head once again rest upon his broad chest, her shakes calming…
And she fell asleep in his arms as the sun rose above the Vatican City.

)O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O(

With Gabriella safely tucked into her bed and sleeping peacefully for the day, Anderson made his way to Maxwell’s office. He wanted some answers, and he was determined to get them, one way or another.

After the courteous knock on the Iscariot director’s office door, he opened it and went in. Maxwell sat behind his desk, typing away at his computer. He looked up when the Regenerator priest walked in.

“Is there something I can do for you, Anderson?” he asked, his voice slick as oil. He motioned to the cushioned chair on Anderson’s side of the desk. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

The Regenerator’s eyes narrowed. “I prefer ta stand.” He said simply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whit do yeh know aboot a bounty on mah daughter’s heed?”

Maxwell did not look away from his computer, did not speak, for several minutes. Anderson was already suspicious of the man…he had once revered Maxwell as the epitome of all things that were good and right in the world, but the day he had told Anderson that he would have to kill the vampyre girl, he had lost all respect for him. Maxwell had to hide the sneer at the Regenerator priest calling that vampyre-child scum his daughter and spoke calmly, without emotion on his long face.

“Where did such a report come from, Regenerator?” Maxwell asked, turning from his computer and facing the priest. “I think this is just some nasty rumor circulating among the lower ranks of the Vatican, don’t you?”

Anderson carefully kept his anger in check. “No, ah don’t, Father Maxweel,” he said, trying to keep the angry hiss from his voice. “The report came froam Gabriella herself. The chit went oot on a mission, a mission she said yeh ordered, and wees nearly tahken oot bah a boonty hunter!”

Maxwell’s eyes widened in mock surprise, and he picked up the phone on his desk as if to make all right in the world again. “I’ll take care of it, Anderson. You are dismissed.” He said as he started dialing numbers.

Anderson gave a derisive snort turned on his heel, slamming the director’s door after him, just to hear the wood shatter around the edges from the force of it. He walked back down to Gabriella’s room, located in the bowels of their headquarters, and sat quietly, watching his daughter sleep.
He knew Maxwell was up to something…he just didn’t know what.

)O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O( )O(

A few weeks later, Gabriella sighed as she walked to her father’s room. Reaching it, she smiled to see that he was kneeling at the side of the bed, apparently deep in prayer. She waited patiently until he finished praying, and grinned at him when he opened his eyes and looked up at her.
“Whit do ya need, chit?” he asked as he got up, dusting off his coat. He walked over to her, a smile twisting the scar on his cheek strangely, accepting the hug she gave him with a gentle grunt.

Her smile faded as she pulled away thought. “Maxwell wants to see us, Papa,” she said softly, adding in a murmur, “I don’t trust that man…”

He grunted again as he walked out of his room behind his daughter, pulling his door shut behind them. “I dun trust him either, chit. Bu’ we still go’tah go an’ hear whit he ‘as to say.”

Gabriella stuck her tongue out childishly, as though there was a bad taste in her mouth. Anderson chuckled, knowing her sentiments exactly. They made their way up to his room quickly enough, eager for this impromptu “meeting” to be over with. It had been a long time since Maxwell had called both of them in at the same time…they were either going to be broken up or put together on an assignment this day.

Gabriella was about to knock upon the door when Maxwell’s voice floated through the door. “Come in Gabriella…Anderson.” She shot her father a look that said “What a conceited ass that man is!” and Anderson chuckled softly as they stepped though the doorway and took their seats.

“Whit do yeh want tah see oos for?” Anderson asked right away, standing behind Gabriella’s seated form, his arms crossed. Maxwell raised an eyebrow, but let no other movement betray what he might have been thinking. Anderson watched the director’s gaze linger on Gabriella’s lithe form for a few moments longer that was proper, and his gaze hardened. Maxwell’s attention snapped back to be it should be…on whatever they were here for.

“I have an assignment for you. For both of you, actually,” he said, interlocking his fingers and placing his hands on his desk. When neither of them spoke, he continued.

“You two will be going on a rather long journey, I believe. I’m sending you on a mission to find the Hellsing leader, Integra Wingates Hellsing, and her pet vampyre, Alucard. I will give you the rest of your orders when the time comes, but for now, the other Fathers are downstairs, getting everything you will need ready, and the Archivists have the book ready and waiting…”

Next