Categories > Anime/Manga > Hellsing
And No Birds Sing
3 reviewsDuring WWII, Walter finds himself feeling closer to Alucard than he'd expected.
0Insightful
Note: This was written for the a group project in the LiveJournal community, hellsingreviews. The title comes from "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" by John Keats.
--
Walter knows the war is temporary. Eventually, he'll go back to his new home, to the people who are so earnestly trying to teach him to sit up straight, to stop dropping his 'h's, to pretend to the kind of station he'd never even dreamed of. Hellsing saved him, took him out of the gutter and gave him a purpose. He's grateful, of course, and he tries to do and be what they want.
But the war lets him backslide a bit, lets him remember a hundred backalley fights, lets him lose himself in the pure joy of killing. There's a monster hiding behind his eyes, something that craves the blood, the terror, the sheer ecstasy that comes with each kill. When he fights, when he bleeds, that's when he's immortal. The war is a stage for monsters like him and like Alucard, something that strips away the veneer of civility imposed on them. The war lets them, for the space of a few precious battles, be immortal together.
Alucard... Alucard wasn't what he expected. He was... beautiful. So like a girl, but with a ferocity Walter had never seen in a girl before. And he'd seen several, softly scented little things, like mewing kittens, so eager to please, so desperate to be noticed. They bored him. Alucard had that beauty, that illusion of fragility, but underneath was the smell of old blood, and a nightmare of teeth and blood-red eyes. In those eyes Walter sees a wanton bloodlust that matches his own. He sees the teeth behind that gentle smile, and sometimes he wonders...
What would it be like to bury his hands in the silken fall of Alucard's hair? What would happen if he let his wires sing through the air, shred that pristine white suit, bind the pale flesh underneath? He wants the vampire to gasp, to bleed for him. He knows how dangerous it is, knows that Alucard outmatches him in every way. No matter how it begins, it'll end with his blood on Alucard's lips. But he wonders.
And, as if he's following Walter's thoughts (And he probably is, the bastard...), Alucard looks at him and smiles. No words, just the smile, dark and hinting at things Walter can't even begin to imagine. I'm not a bleedin' poof, he thinks, defiantly. Alucard's smile only widens, so subtly that if he hadn't been looking for such a signal, Walter would have missed it. There's no question he heard that thought. And they both know it doesn't matter. The war is a sticky red fairyland for monsters like them. The normal rules no longer apply.
And Walter knows that soon, after this mission, or maybe another, when the bloodlust is running high in them both, it will happen. A chain of events has been set in motion, and Walter has no way of knowing where it will end. All he knows is that soon, soon, he'll learn just how far this too-fleeting immortality goes.
--
Walter knows the war is temporary. Eventually, he'll go back to his new home, to the people who are so earnestly trying to teach him to sit up straight, to stop dropping his 'h's, to pretend to the kind of station he'd never even dreamed of. Hellsing saved him, took him out of the gutter and gave him a purpose. He's grateful, of course, and he tries to do and be what they want.
But the war lets him backslide a bit, lets him remember a hundred backalley fights, lets him lose himself in the pure joy of killing. There's a monster hiding behind his eyes, something that craves the blood, the terror, the sheer ecstasy that comes with each kill. When he fights, when he bleeds, that's when he's immortal. The war is a stage for monsters like him and like Alucard, something that strips away the veneer of civility imposed on them. The war lets them, for the space of a few precious battles, be immortal together.
Alucard... Alucard wasn't what he expected. He was... beautiful. So like a girl, but with a ferocity Walter had never seen in a girl before. And he'd seen several, softly scented little things, like mewing kittens, so eager to please, so desperate to be noticed. They bored him. Alucard had that beauty, that illusion of fragility, but underneath was the smell of old blood, and a nightmare of teeth and blood-red eyes. In those eyes Walter sees a wanton bloodlust that matches his own. He sees the teeth behind that gentle smile, and sometimes he wonders...
What would it be like to bury his hands in the silken fall of Alucard's hair? What would happen if he let his wires sing through the air, shred that pristine white suit, bind the pale flesh underneath? He wants the vampire to gasp, to bleed for him. He knows how dangerous it is, knows that Alucard outmatches him in every way. No matter how it begins, it'll end with his blood on Alucard's lips. But he wonders.
And, as if he's following Walter's thoughts (And he probably is, the bastard...), Alucard looks at him and smiles. No words, just the smile, dark and hinting at things Walter can't even begin to imagine. I'm not a bleedin' poof, he thinks, defiantly. Alucard's smile only widens, so subtly that if he hadn't been looking for such a signal, Walter would have missed it. There's no question he heard that thought. And they both know it doesn't matter. The war is a sticky red fairyland for monsters like them. The normal rules no longer apply.
And Walter knows that soon, after this mission, or maybe another, when the bloodlust is running high in them both, it will happen. A chain of events has been set in motion, and Walter has no way of knowing where it will end. All he knows is that soon, soon, he'll learn just how far this too-fleeting immortality goes.
Sign up to rate and review this story