Chapter 21
I sprawled tiredly on the bed, my butt burning mercilessly, and every movement sent sparks of pain throughout my body. Two weeks had flown by so quickly and strangely; Hermione was supposed to arrive tomorrow.
Mom listened to the story of our adventures, her forehead making a face. Why did we go testing the poison in the slums when there was a whole department of wizard-potion makers on the estate? Why test the poison on street thugs when the prisons were full of monsters awaiting execution? If they wanted, they could bring such a freak to us for execution, because how he died was no one’s business. And the most important question: why the hell did we run away without telling anyone?
As it turned out, Integra woke up the moment I left the estate, simply because she sensed it. She immediately pulled out the Wonderphone, but neither Victoria nor I answered. Then my mother came to my chambers and found the communication device on my nightstand. She called Alucard, who told me he sensed us in the Islington area, that we were together, and that we were in no danger. For now. Integra sent an ancient guardian to keep an eye on us, and she, accompanied by Walter, waited for our return to personally make sure I was alright.
Now about the punishment: we were deprived of sweets for two weeks, and all kinds of sweets at that. Mom also took away my Wonderphone, since I was always forgetting it, and my bracelet with my gift. No shooting range or communication until my friend arrived. But that wasn’t enough, so I was assigned daily tea etiquette lessons with Walter and fencing with Mom. Within a week, tea was making me nauseous, and in my dreams I’d see the entire table service army—cups, spoons, teapots, various types of tea leaves, and an etiquette textbook, uttering sensible, kind, and eternal words in the voice of a special butler. The fencing part was even more amusing: Integra never used physical punishment on me, but during these lessons she literally beat me with a training sword so hard that even my protective gear couldn’t save me. To be fair, most of the blows landed on my butt, which is why I’ve been sleeping on my stomach for a week now.
I could, of course, have been offended by such arbitrariness, but my empathy… Along with my Occlumency, it also improved slightly. That night, I clearly sensed intense anxiety, fear, and a bit of resentment from my mother. I felt deeply ashamed, because I thought I was the smartest, but in reality, I’d done something truly monstrous. That’s why I steadfastly endured the disciplinary measures and spent all my free time crafting a peace gift. I found ready-made plans in Sergey’s books; I hope I’ve reproduced them correctly.
***
Dinner passed in silence. Mom, following proper manners, leisurely savoured a juicy steak, Walter stood in his usual dark corner, and Alucard slowly sipped fresh blood from an ornate crystal goblet. I, suppressing my disgust, ate broccoli with pumpkin puree, and Victoria drank donor blood diluted with plasma through a straw straight from the bag. This is pretty much how we’ve been eating for the past two weeks, stealing envious glances at the other diners. Then dessert arrived; I expected carrot salad, as usual, but instead a plate of my favourite strawberry muffins and a bowl of vanilla ice cream appeared before me. Goodbye, diet! Hooray!
“Rigel, I hope you’ve learned your lesson?” Mom smiled at the corners of her lips. “Your punishment is over, and I expect you won’t run away from home again?”
“Yes, I’m sorry again. I know it’s my fault, so…” I quickly walked up to her and handed her my craft. “To prevent this from happening again, I made us paired bracelets. The pattern seems correct, but I’ve checked them yet.”
Lady Hellsing looked at her bracelet of flat, rectangular stones in azure and green in amazement. Yes, the stones were poorly crafted, and the runic symbols were crooked and askew, but I poured my heart and soul into these creations. They simply must work, I can feel it in my gut.
“I used lapis lazuli and malachite as a base, to match the color of our eyes. If you lose me again, press the central green stone – my bracelet will heat up, and I’ll know right away. They should work in both directions.” I looked down guiltily. “We didn’t have much time… That’s why they turned out so unsightly.”
The next moment, my mother jumped up to me, dropped to one knee, and hugged me tightly, and I hugged her back. I was literally enveloped in a feeling of warmth and care, and my childish body couldn’t take it anymore—tears started rolling down my cheeks. Empathy, damn it. I’m not a crybaby, no, I try to keep my emotions deep inside, but I trust these people, they are my family, and closing myself off from them is stupid. You can’t live alone; it only recently dawned on me.
After about five minutes, we pulled away from each other. The lady smiled warmly and patted my head:
– And forgive me, I went a little overboard with fencing.
“It’s okay, you deserve it.” I involuntarily rubbed my lower brain hemispheres.
“Here, call your friend and check the gun, you’re going to the range tomorrow.” With these words, she handed me the Miracle Phone and a pink bracelet, and put my gift on her left wrist. “Put yours on, we’ll check it right away.”
A miracle phone in my pocket, a pink bracelet on my right hand, an azure one on my left. With these rings, bracelets, and pendants, I feel like a gypsy. Once the crafts were confirmed to be working, we continued dinner, but the atmosphere has warmed considerably now. I’ve got a request in mind; I think I’ll voice it on Halloween… It’ll be just the right day.
***
Hermione arrived a day later, and we spent a day resting from the flight and acclimatizing. My friend looked tanned and happy with life. What a brat. After a bone-crushing hug, Victoria and I headed to the armory. In two years, I still haven’t fully explored the mansion’s grounds; I need to rectify this unfortunate omission before September.
The Arsenal (also known as the potion and artifact warehouse) was a veritable bunker. A single-story, rectangular, windowless iron-and-concrete structure, it was located immediately behind the armored vehicle hangars. There was only one entrance—a massive iron door, completely covered in runes and symbols. As were the surrounding walls, incidentally. Two armed soldiers stood guard at the entrance. Upon seeing the vampire, they stood at attention and ushered Victoria to the intercom. She punched in a code, responded to the “other side” with the password, and only then did the locks click, revealing the monumental door.
Inside, we were met by another metal door, a thinner one, with a thick bulletproof glass window and loopholes on either side. As soon as we crossed the threshold, I felt the effects of the “Thieves’ Bane” artifact. The sensation, incidentally, was extremely unpleasant, like being doused with ice water. An elderly, dark-haired man was visible behind the glass, to whom Victoria gave another passcode, after which the second door opened. We were waved inside, and three more armed soldiers were inside.
“Comrade Captain, I brought the girls for uniforms and ammunition for firearms training.” Victoria stood at attention.
“At ease, I know. I’ve got the uniform and vests ready, all that’s left is to trim them to size.” He turned and walked to a large table near the entrance. “I’ll give you some zinc ammo too, but only the regular ones! Stop wasting enchanted bullets on targets.”
My friend and I were gaping, our heads spinning. The wall to our right was lined with a row of metal cabinets, their barred doors concealing a wealth of various assault rifles, machine guns, and other firearms. The left wall was hidden behind shelves holding a pile of boxes, crates, and other items, likely ammunition. Incidentally, everything was also behind bars. I definitely like this place; some of the “toys” make greedy little hands reach for them.
On a wooden box near the table we saw two neatly folded sets of camouflage uniforms, next to them on a hook were bulletproof vests and unloading equipment, and on the floor were black army boots.
“Everything’s enchanted and checked. Let’s change completely, I’ll adjust it to size later.” The man waved at the clothes. “There are auto-fitting runes there, but it’s safer to do it manually the first time.”
I picked up the beige panties that topped my pile of clothes and gave the officer a pointed look.
“Are you planning to fight in a lace thong? It’s got comfort, self-cleaning, and odor-eliminating charms! You don’t always have time to wash up and change on a combat mission.” He chuckled. “Well, what are we standing there for? Who are we waiting for?”
“At least turn away,” Hermione muttered, blushing as a tomato.
“They’re still just kids… Well, that’s none of my business,” the officer said quietly, took his wand out of his holster, and conjured a screen for us.
Once out of sight, we began changing. Dresses and shoes went into my oversized bag. They were clearly planning on getting us ready seriously: underwear, a T-shirt, then pants and a tunic, a shoulder belt and combat boots, then a bulletproof vest and ammo pouches. A uniform cap completed the look of cutie-pie killers. The uniform had clearly been made just for us; it was very comfortable and lightweight; even the bulletproof vest weighed only a couple of kilos, but our clothes were a bit big and hung on us like sacks. I looked at my friend and couldn’t help but smile. I wondered if I looked as funny and cute from the outside?
“We’re ready!” I shouted as soon as the curly-haired “mini-special forces” managed to fasten the last carabiner of her unloading vest and put on her cap with a disgruntled snort.
The screen disappeared, and everyone present stared at us with smiles. Judging by Victoria’s eyes, if there hadn’t been strangers around, we would have been cuddled like kittens. The captain took out his wand and began waving it mechanically; the camouflage and shoes immediately shrank and fit like a glove, as if they weren’t military uniforms but custom-made evening suits. I jumped up and down: nothing rattled, pinched, or chafed. It was comfortable, though.
“Well, at least they look human now, otherwise they looked like worms in a spacesuit.” The man smiled contentedly and turned to Victoria. “Seras, sign the logs for the zinc and two sets of uniforms! Where’s the first aid kit?”
“Here!” Victoria showed the storekeeper a small white box with a red cross and, with a disgruntled expression, began filling out a large tome lying on the table, then another, and another. “Bureaucracy, that’s what needs to be fought! No dark lords were even close.”
“Safety briefings, fire safety, rules of conduct in emergency situations, terrorist threats, and more.” With these words, he handed the vampire about six thick magazines. “You’ll give the young fighters a briefing and get their signatures, and until then, you won’t set foot on the training ground! The rules are the same for everyone!”
For the next hour, we listened to the nanny’s monotonous, clearly memorized speech, trying to blink more often and yawn less. Then we quickly signed our names to these embodiments of army bureaucracy, and only then were we allowed to go to the training ground.
“Remember, kids, the more paperwork, the cleaner your ass!” That’s the parting word the storekeeper officer gave us, tapping his finger contentedly on the stack of documents.
***
We didn’t start shooting until after lunch. Before that, Victoria explained in detail how to aim, how to maintain the gun, how to load, and everything else. Although our barrels didn’t need cleaning, we also practiced assembly and disassembly. Shooting was easy, but hitting the target turned out to be quite difficult. Although my mind remembers the firearms training course, my body doesn’t, so I’ll have to re-work my reflexes and train my muscle memory. Hermione was very disappointed when she only hit twice out of thirty attempts (yes, the magazine was upgraded, too), and the target was only twenty meters away. She thought it would be like in an action movie, where the hero blindly hits a squirrel in the eye and a mosquito in the ass. I didn’t get far: eight hits on the target and half of them missed. So, we’ll practice! The zinc box holds a thousand rounds, so we’re not limited in ammunition.
We finished half an hour before dinner, when our ears were already ringing and raising our arms was only possible with superhuman effort. Between us, we managed to shoot half the zinc. By the end, our result was about a third of the target, which is quite good for a first attempt. Tired and satisfied, we went to my quarters to wash up and change for dinner.
We decided to waste no time and take a shower at my place, fortunately my bathroom has a shower. We had no time for that; my friend was busy examining my new clothes, and now she was furtively scrutinizing the scars and marks on my body. She didn’t ask any questions, but she was very thoughtful throughout dinner. And afterward, we had a small argument.
“Rigel, you can’t do this! You killed two people! Who gave you the right to take people’s lives without trial or investigation?!” Dan lingered, and while we waited, Hermione decided to fill out the observation log, where she saw the last entry. Under her shocked gaze, I had to briefly recount our adventures.
“Who gave them the right to rape?!” The argument grew heated. “Those bastards weren’t human! We made the city a little cleaner!”
– You can’t just kill like that! How are you any better than them?!
“Mione, what if your mother were in that unfortunate woman’s place? Would you say the same thing?”
– You’re exaggerating! My mother doesn’t hang out in dangerous areas at night!
– Do you think that all sorts of scum live only in crime-ridden areas?
“Of course! A decent citizen would never stoop to such a thing! Probably…” The last sentence was spoken in a whisper, with averted eyes.
“Have you seen my scars? They were left by a respectable citizen and a decent family man, by the way.” I took my friend by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “You watched the news and read the newspapers, right? The press spent over a month discussing THAT incident. You know WHAT they did to me, right? You just don’t talk about it.”
– Yes, but… But this is completely different! – She lowered her head and spoke quietly. – You were saving your life, they showed that bloody closet on TV. You had no choice.
“I killed them while they were sleeping. I could have just run away and called for help, but I decided that such creatures weren’t worth living!” I look closely at the surprised girl. “You think I’m a killer? A maniac?”
Granger stared at me silently for five minutes, fiddling with her pen, her expression betraying intense thought. She’d been lost in thought, and the unfortunate pen cracked, bringing her out of her stupor.
“No, you’re not a maniac. You’re Rigel Hellsing, my best and only friend!” She put on a very serious face. “It’s hard for me to admit this, but I don’t feel sorry for your guardians. I don’t know what I would do if someone…”
– You’ll never know! – I didn’t let my friend finish. – Now do you understand my attitude towards rapists?
– But those two had to be tried! There is a law!
“What double standards you have!” I smiled ironically. “You can kill your friend’s rapist, but not those two, just because their victim was a street whore? Or do you think they would have let her go and given her money? They would have slit her throat and been done with it! She could have complained to her pimp, those thugs would have been found and severely punished.”
– So, you saved her life? – And the little dog is so surprised.
“Of course!” If I tell the truth, Victoria’s friend will start shying away. It’s a good thing she doesn’t know anything about the teacher. We need to slowly weed out her love for her neighbor. She’s too kind, it can’t be like that. Or am I just that mean? Anyway, enough with the philosophical musings, that’s not the point now.
– Well… Okay, maybe you’re right. But still, killing is bad! – She clenched her fists. – We live in a state governed by the rule of law, there are police, there are courts!
– Okay, I get it. – I raise my hands placatingly. – Next time I’ll call the police and a hearse.
– And why her?
By the time the cops arrive, the victim will already be dead. In moments like these, every second counts.
Our argument was interrupted by Walter when Hermione’s father arrived to pick her up. She left very thoughtful. I didn’t say anything else, let her think it over herself. She’s a smart girl, just too proper.
***
We had firearms training twice a week, slightly shifting our other classes. Spell practice, finance and political science tutoring, and fencing and hand-to-hand combat were still on the agenda. Free time became even more limited. The first few lessons were a delight, but then routine set in. Draw your pistol, aim, empty the entire magazine. Reload, and repeat. Victoria taught us reflexes, “First you shoot, then you think.”
And at the third lesson, the vampire yelled at Hermione again.
– Who are you looking at there?! How many times have I told you, five shots at the target, then the next one!
“I… I wanted to make sure I got it right.” Her voice trembled slightly with resentment; her friend didn’t like criticism.
“Listen, cutlet, they count the holes in the corpses after the battle!” The vampire appeared next to the girl. “That’s called a rookie mistake – you fire and look what happens! Idiots like that don’t last long. Your enemy won’t stand still! He’ll return fire and start moving! Reload and get back to the line! Run!”
– We’re out of ammo! They haven’t brought any yet. – I stood by the empty box.
– Damn it… Okay, fifteen minutes to rest. – The nanny looked at her wristwatch. – The captain has already sent out the soldiers.
I sat down on the ground, Hermione rested her butt on the box, and Victoria simply stood nearby, looking toward the armory. My friend has been acting very thoughtful lately; I haven’t brought it up since that argument, but I can see she’s trying to sort out her priorities. She grew up on books with evil villains and kind, noble heroes, but in real life, things are different. So Hermione is struggling with her inner conflicts, and I don’t interfere; she should figure it out on her own.
While we waited, I asked a question that had been on my mind for a long time. I wondered if the vampire would answer or not.
“Victoria, how did you become a vampire? I’m sorry, if this is personal or unpleasant, you don’t have to tell me.” I lower my eyes. Everyone has moments they’re better off forgetting.
– Hm… Are you really interested? – We both nod in response, even Hermione perks up.
– Well, listen… It happened in 1980, I was serving in the Mansfield police at the time, in the rapid response squad. The day before, we were informed that terrorists had sprayed a biological weapon in the village of Elksley, and the squad was put on high alert. That night, we received a call about an attack on the village of Meden Vale. We assumed it was terrorists, and the entire duty team went to the call, twenty of us… Only two survived. – Victoria clenched her fists until they crunched. – When we drove into the village, it was a real hell. Some houses were burning, torn bodies were strewn everywhere, and humanoid monsters were running through the streets and over the rooftops. We immediately jumped out of our cars and opened fire to kill, but, as it turned out, it was useless.
– How useless? Who was that? – My friend voiced my thoughts.
“The village was attacked by werewolves, enormous creatures about two and a half meters tall, with bodies covered in thick fur, powerful forepaws that could tear a man in half, and a wolf’s head with a huge mouth. They’re practically invulnerable to regular bullets, and they’re insanely fast, too.” The vampiress took a breath. “They were just playing with us. One of them got behind the captain and simply pierced him with its paw, then tore off his head and threw his headless body at us. The werewolves could have quickly killed us and the locals, but they decided to prolong the fun.”
“I read that when werewolves transform, they lose control of themselves and turn into stupid, bloodthirsty monsters.” Hermione quotes the textbook again.
– Bullshit! They control everything! I saw the satisfied grins on those creatures’ faces! And intelligence in their eyes! – Victoria realized she had raised her voice, took a couple of breaths, and, calming down, continued. – We realized things were bad and decided to take cover in the bank building. Especially since they reported over the radio that Hellsing’s first company was moving to help us. Firing back, we managed to gather a dozen survivors and ran for safety; there was a vault with an armored door. The werewolves, however, first of all, demonstratively began snatching and killing people in uniform. Seven civilians, me and Lisa, ran to the building. Rigel, you know her.
– Sister Lisa? – That’s news, she never told you she was in the police.
“Yes, Lisa and Matthew Patterson. We served together; the boys had just gotten married, and Lisa was three months pregnant. One of the creatures knocked Frank down and ripped out his spine along with his head, then swung it around like a rattle. We pumped two clips into the monster, but the bullets were simply pushed out of its body with a hiss—werewolves have very good regeneration. I ordered my partner to take cover with the survivors; the door would only close from the outside. I was already prepared to die…” The vampire grinned bloodthirstily. “Then suddenly the cavalry arrived!” Hellsing’s soldiers shot at the creatures, their bullets tearing off werewolves’ paws and tearing their bodies apart from the inside. The creatures tried to escape, but the village was already surrounded by troops. Then the biggest one, the pack leader, burst into the bank, grabbed me by the throat, and covered myself with a shield. He thought the hostage would help him, but as soon as he left the building, the soldiers opened fire. I was lucky that I was armed with an AK-70 at the time, a 7.62mm caliber rifle. The bullets simply pierced my body and detonated in the werewolf’s carcass. As I was dying, I heard the gentle voice of my master, who offered me my life in exchange for service. I agreed and woke up here, in the estate. That’s the sad story.
– What happened to Sister Lisa? She never talked about her child at the orphanage?
“I later found out she had a miscarriage due to stress, so Lisa left the police, took the veil, and became a nun. They didn’t wipe her memory, they just took the standard non-disclosure agreement.” Victoria smiled sadly and shrugged.
– Wait, the soldiers shot directly at you? They weren’t trying to save the hostage? – Hermione is in shock.
“Of course! That’s what all Hellsing fighters are taught: the enemy must be destroyed by any means necessary.” The vampire walked over to the console that controlled medium- and long-range targets, pressed a button, and raised a life-size figure—a woman in the foreground and a schematic enemy behind her, just part of the shoulder and head. A bull’s-eye was marked in the center of the front figure’s chest. “The enemy mustn’t escape; how many more will he kill? An exchange, the life of one for dozens, maybe even hundreds more. Someday, you too will have to pull the trigger and kill the creature along with the hostage. That’s life.”
Finally, two fighters came up and brought a new zinc box of cartridges, we had no time for talking and we continued training.
***
Hermione had been very thoughtful for the last ten days, tormented by internal conflicts. Her friend had killed two people! Yes, they were rapists, maybe even murderers, but that was wrong! Or was it? They were caught in the act of raping, they could have killed the unfortunate girl, and Rigel, it seemed, had saved her. On the one hand, she was a hero, like in movies or books, but on the other, heroes don’t kill, they only save, and villains are imprisoned. Or was it? In one book, the good hero cut off the head of an evil necromancer and became the savior of the kingdom. Now Hermione thought about it, because that hero was also a murderer. The necromancer sat in his castle, committing evil acts, until a “good” knight came and cut off the villain’s head, along with all the servants. So, how is a hero better than a necromancer?
But there’s also the death penalty. So, the judge is also a murderer? Although it’s hard to call these creatures human. So they put someone like that in jail, and then he’ll be released and continue killing, robbing, and so on down the list. As Dad says, “The grave will reform a hunchback.”
Hermione remembered that news report well; the closet gave her nightmares for a month afterward. She carefully examined the scars and ugly marks on Rigel’s body and realized that this wasn’t human. At that moment, Hermione agreed with her friend: such creatures don’t deserve to live. After all, if they were brought to justice, these “upstanding citizens” would be free again in ten years. So it turns out that there’s law on one side and justice on the other. So what’s to be done?
Victoria’s story added fuel to the fire. How could elite fighters, the pride of the Empire, kill hostages?! The enemy must be eliminated by any means necessary. On the one hand, it sounds outrageous, but on the other? What if that werewolf had escaped? How many more would he have killed? Dozens? Hundreds? So, trading one life for dozens, let alone hundreds, sounds logical. But how hard it is to accept. For a second, the girl imagined her mother or Rigel in the hostage’s place. No, she couldn’t shoot, but what if she imagined one of her classmates? With difficulty, but she would pull the trigger. Her friend was right; she had double standards.
There were still a couple of days left before school, and Hermione was having lunch after hand-to-hand combat practice. She was getting pretty good at it; at first, she was afraid of the blows, but then she got the hang of it. Magic potions and ointments work wonders! Bruises, scrapes, and sprains heal almost instantly. Even when Ria accidentally broke her arm during a tackle six months ago, a visiting wizard fixed the problem with a couple of waves of his wand. As for the pain, she was used to it; after training, something always hurt. Rigel apologized profusely, but Hermione didn’t take it personally; she’d once almost gouged her friend’s eye out.
At the table, the girl noticed something strange: her friend was on edge and casting hard glances at Lady Hellsing. Maybe something had happened? She’d ask right after dinner.
“Hermione, we’re having an unusual lesson today. Rigel was against it, but I insisted.” The woman looked sternly at her daughter. “A special guest was brought to the estate yesterday. Follow me.”
Hermione stood up, confused, and followed the woman toward the basement. She’d never been there before, and who was this guest anyway? Walter quietly joined them, carrying a thick folder. He opened it as he walked and began reading aloud:
Jerry Nelson, 27, classified as a half-blood by wizarding authorities; his mother was Muggle-born and his father a third-generation wizard. He graduated from Hogwarts in 1983 and joined the Aurors. In 1986, he received a Dark curse and became a Squib. He was stripped of his awards and titles and discharged without a pension. He left the wizarding world and settled in his late grandmother’s house, finding work as a laborer at the docks. On June 10, 1989, he was sentenced to death for the kidnapping, torture, rape, and murder of young women. The court proved 17 counts, but I’m sure there were more victims. Also known as the Liverpool Ripper.
As they descended the stairs—it turned out there were two underground floors—the girl listened attentively to the butler. So, they were going to execute someone? But why was she, Hermione, going with them? Would she have to kill or just observe?
On the lower level, they discovered cells behind heavy iron doors with viewing windows. They walked down the corridor to a door near which stood an armed soldier. That’s where they were headed, then.
– Lady Hellsing! – The fighter put his hand to his headdress.
– At ease, how is the guest? – The woman turned to the soldier. – Is Lieutenant Koch there already?
– Yes sir! – With these words, the soldier opened the door.
In a bright cell sat a young man, strapped to a chair. He was short, thin, bald, with a freckled, haggard face. The condemned man’s frightened gaze darted around the guests, who had settled calmly into the spacious room and formed a semicircle around the victim. The unfortunate man looked at Lady Integra with a hunted expression, burst into tears, and began to wail pleadingly:
– I was set up. I… I didn’t do it! Please. I couldn’t. I haven’t been in that house for six months… It wasn’t me…
He was so scared, so pathetic and miserable. Had the court really made a mistake? Hermione looked at this boy and couldn’t believe his guilt. While she listened to Walter in the hallway, she imagined a seasoned maniac: huge, vicious, and ruthless. And here? There was definitely a mistake. She turned and was about to address Lady Hellsing, but thought better of it. The others’ faces were frozen in disgust and revulsion. Did they really know something?
– I was set up! You don’t understand…
“Silencio!” The mage standing nearby put away his wand, started connecting the boy to a heart monitor, and began speaking. “We’ve been testing the snake venom they gave us. It’s quite good. On the downside, it’s neutralized by a regular bezoar; on the upside, it’s undetectable by standard artifacts and spells. Only something specialized, designed to detect naturally occurring poisons, could work. We also had the bodies of mundanes brought in for testing; the poison attacks the central nervous system and lungs. Those two were HIV-positive, so the poison took effect very quickly. We’ll see how long this specimen lasts; he’s in excellent health.”
“Is he really a killer? He doesn’t look like one, just look at him. Maybe the court made a mistake?” Hermione couldn’t take it anymore; she looked at this crying boy and couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t be a maniac. She was already shaking with fear; she knew what was about to happen and she didn’t want to be part of it. She wasn’t an executioner.
“Lieutenant, let this bastard tell you everything himself,” Integra ordered the soldier. The girl already expected the boy to be tortured, so she prepared to close her eyes and cover her ears.
“Imperio!” The fighter waved his wand, and the prisoner’s eyes glazed over. Hermione had read about this forbidden spell; anyone under its influence was completely deprived of their willpower and ready to carry out any order. Meanwhile, the wizard gave the command: “Act naturally. Answer every question honestly.”
The “unfortunate man” immediately transformed: he stopped shaking, straightened up, and a haughty smirk appeared on his face. The device began beeping steadily, registering the man’s calm.
“How many women have you killed? Why haven’t the other bodies been found?” Lady Hellsing asked.
“I don’t remember exactly, 28 or 29. Who’s counting these Muggles?” The prisoner’s voice was completely calm, which was even more frightening. “They didn’t find them because first I hid them, and then I started dismembering them. I sold the entrails in Knockturn for potions, and the rest to the goblins; they love human flesh.”
“Why did you do that?” Rigel’s voice took on a steely edge, Hermione had never seen her like that.
“Because I liked it. Listening to their pleas for mercy, their cries of despair. When the bitch beneath you screams in pain—it’s an indescribable pleasure.” The guy squeezed his eyes shut, and his underwear bulged. This is definitely not human anymore.
“How did you kidnap women?” Lady Integra asked dryly.
– It’s very simple, a couple of drops of the potion in a drink and a worthless Muggle will carry out any order.
“What would you do to us?” Hermione asked quietly, not expecting it from herself, she was already shaking with anger and hatred.
The boy’s gaze gleamed lustfully and scanned the group, like an entomologist might look at an intriguing bug. Under his gaze, Hermione took a step back and, before she knew it, a pistol had appeared in her hand.
“I’d just sell the shaggy one for ingredients, but first I’d fuck her and scalp her, her hair’s awfully good.” He glanced at Rigel and grimaced in disgust. “I remember this one, they showed her on the news. She’s already used, though I’d check what her guardian taught her.”
Hermione looked at her friend, who stood there with her teeth clenched tightly. If looks could kill, the bastard would already be dead. Rhea also held a pistol in her hand, gripping the handle until her knuckles turned white. Meanwhile, the condemned man’s gaze fell on Lady Hellsing, and the boy smiled contentedly.
“I’d play with a blonde Muggle for a long time – so proud, so bossy. You’d be at my feet, begging for mercy.” He swallowed excitedly. “There was one almost like her; as soon as I cut off her nipples, she immediately turned silky. Then I… Hmm… Hmph…”
The bastard twitched and wheezed, and Vasily sat proudly at his feet. Hermione was so engrossed in this maniac that she didn’t hear her friend hissing in Parseltongue.
– Suuuuuuck, die, I hate you. – Or curses through clenched teeth.
For several minutes, Hermione watched with a kind of animalistic satisfaction as the boy convulsed and nearly choked on bloody foam. She felt no pity for the humanoid creature. It seemed she now understood Rigel’s feelings for such creatures; she herself was ready to shoot him. If Granger encountered such a scum, she would kill him without a second thought; such creatures weren’t worth living.
“3 minutes, 18 seconds,” the lieutenant stated as the machine beeped, signaling cardiac arrest. “Details of death will be in the autopsy report. Ma’am?”
“Very well, Lieutenant, get to work. Thank you for your service.” Lady Hellsing nodded to the soldier and turned to the girls. “Let’s go to the dining room. I think we need a delicious dessert and some strong tea.”
The lady lit a cigarette and fell behind a little, Walter walked ahead again showing the way, and Hermione caught up with her friend and took her hand.
“Riya, I’m sorry, you were right. People like that should be killed on the spot.” The girl squeezed her hand tighter. “And thank you!”
– For what?
“For not letting him finish his story. Just a little more and I would have emptied the entire magazine into him.” Hermione smirked, even though she was shaking all over. “We wouldn’t have been able to test the poison’s effects and we’d have had to find a new maniac. And I’m not ready to do it again yet, honestly. How about at least in a month?”
“We won’t repeat that. Let’s go have some tea with some soothing balm; we need it now.” Rigel put her arm around Hermione’s shoulders, as she was starting to get hysterical.
That day, young Miss Granger’s emotional turmoil ended. She understood what her friend had meant—such creatures truly were not worthy of life. If she encountered one, her hand would not tremble. She would help make this world a little cleaner.
