Seras tries to deal with her growing bloodlust. (Written for a challenge on LiveJournal.)
Her Master taunted her for refusing to drink. Weak, was she? She'd show him. She could be strong! She could get by without drinking!
If only she wasn't so hungry...
That was it. She needed air. She couldn't bloody well just sit in her room and stare at her coffin all night, could she?
There was a club, she remembered, that stayed open late. She'd gone once or twice, when she felt the need to dance. Perfect. Dancing would do her good, give her something else to focus on.
She heard the thump of the bass long before she reached the place, and she smiled. Finally, something normal in her life.
Still smiling, she presented her ID and walked in. And then the smell hit her, and she faltered. The club was full of people, flushed from dancing, from drink, the blood rushing under their skin, and she could smell it. She bit her lip to keep from reaching out for the nearest human. That, she would later realize, was a mistake.
Her mouth filled with blood, and the hunger uncurled, and reached...
She only dimly heard the man talking to her. "...love those contacts," he was saying. But the blood in her mouth was cold, dead, and there was a source of fresh, warm blood right there...
Within moments, she had him by the throat, growling and baring her teeth.
It was the look in his eyes that stopped her, or perhaps the words she'd spoken herself, once. "You're not human!"
She dropped him, trying to hide her own horror. "Sorry! It... it was a joke... I guess it wasn't that funny, was it?" She stammered and backed away, trying to smile, choking down the hunger.
He laughed nervously, but his eyes showed her that he didn't quite believe her. "Yeah, a joke... Guess I overreacted. I'll... just be going, then." He backed away.
When he was gone, she turned and ran, choking on a sob. She was weak. She couldn't control herself, couldn't stop it, and she'd almost killed someone... She ran blindly back to the Hellsing manor, tears clouding her vision. Every footstep echoed the word back at her. Weak, weak, weak...
When she finally came to a stop, she was in front of the refrigerator Walter kept filled with blood-packs. Shaking, she opened it, and pulled out a pack of medical blood. She stared at it for a moment, then ripped it open, pouring it down her throat.
The hunger abated, but didn't fade entirely. The beast inside her wanted sweet, warm blood, blood that tasted of fear. But it could wait. It had all the time in the world.