Chapter 25
Life after the holidays resumed as usual, meaning we spent the rest of August studying and training. I’m now automatically getting up at six in the morning, quickly getting ready, and heading down to the gym, while Hermione once complained that even on a day off, she can’t go to the bathroom in the morning until she’s run five kilometers. Such is the power of habit.
After demonstrating a nonverbal Finite to Sergei (yes, when you perform the same spell at least twenty times a day for six months, it first becomes automatic, and then even without words), the teacher decided to add Incarcero, which binds a person like a caterpillar, and Fulgari, also a binding spell, but specifically for the enemy’s hands.
Now Hermione and I were practicing spells on the move, spraying each other with our entire modest arsenal. Black simply stood to the side, but if he thought we weren’t moving enough, he’d send a couple of his dad’s Stupefies at us. The first time I caught one of those, I thought I’d been hit by a car. Even my protective rings didn’t help; I flew back about five meters and slammed into a wall at full speed, my vision blacked out. I told you he was a real sadist. Although I have to admit, after that flight we started working harder, and I definitely don’t want to repeat that.
Overall, practical magic was going well, especially since the teacher dropped the bomb: if he was satisfied with our results by the start of next summer, he’d teach us a couple of his signature spells. Considering his experience, age, and sadistic tendencies, the offer promised to be very interesting. My friend and I exchanged knowing glances and continued to give our all in class, and to cast spells everywhere, with or without reason. I’d forgotten the last time I’d held a toothbrush or tied my own shoelaces.
In Potions, Hector quizzed us verbally and made sure we knew the theory and ingredients of the potions he’d been talking about by heart. And then he said we were ready for practical use. I was half-assed we’d be brewing luck or sealing death in a test tube—I thought Snape had said something like that in our first lesson. Yeah, I don’t know… Now, in every class, we prepared ingredients, which meant chopping up all sorts of crap and pounding even bigger things in a mortar. Hermione, meanwhile, kept glancing warily at the two thickly cloth-covered cages still standing in the far corner. Ahem, I guess she’s not ready to harvest werewolf liver or bile yet.
The most disgusting lesson was at the beginning of September, preparing fairy wings. It was truly fucking insane. Fairies are tiny, harmless creatures, very similar to girls with transparent or colored wings, no more than ten centimeters in size. They are very trusting, and, damn, they have intelligence! Yes, it is primitive, but it is there! These cuties understand some human words and chat sweetly with each other, love sugar and are ready to sing or dance for a treat. Keeping such cheerful and harmless cuties in the house is a real pleasure.
So, the wings of these wondrous creations of nature are used in many potions, and for maximum effectiveness, they must be torn from a LIVING creature! And preferably, damn, it should be conscious. This beauty sits on my palm and, smiling, starts chatting something in her gibberish, while dancing and laughing sweetly. And I’m supposed to tear off the wings of this harmless creature and then kill her? Because without wings, fairies die painfully within a few days.
Honestly, Hermione and I didn’t even try. My friend bluntly declared that Hector would rather get the werewolf out of the cage—she’d be able to butcher the dark creature any minute—but she couldn’t bring herself to touch the fairies. I silently supported Hermione, and the teacher was genuinely surprised by our rebellion.
“They’re just fairies! They’re like insects or rats!” Hector pointed at the cutie sitting on Hermione’s palm. “They have primitive intelligence, they probably don’t even feel pain… Come on, I’ll show you how.”
The little thing instantly realized it was in for a bad time, quickly hid in Hermione’s breast pocket, and, looking at her with its beady eyes pleadingly, began squealing something in its gibberish. Needless to say, that day, Hermione got a mischievous pet named Flora. At that moment, I think even Alucard would have freaked out if he’d tried to take the cutie away from the enraged, curly-haired fury. Dagworth realized that the creature’s wings couldn’t be torn off (as the gun pointed at him seemed to suggest), and graciously allowed her to keep the fairy, drawing some conclusions along the way.
After this lesson, we only butchered random junk, like frogs, flobberworms, and slugs. And we tried not to think about where those fairy wings in the jar on the shelf came from. Now the main thing is that Vasya doesn’t eat the little winged things; Hermione will then twist him into a Möbius strip and say that this Ouroboros has always been like that. We need to give the snake detailed instructions.
Hermione missed school the next day because of the little beauty. This was all because Flora flatly refused to be left alone in her room and literally began sobbing, clinging to her mistress’s ear—for obvious reasons, she wasn’t allowed to attend school. So, instead of going to school that morning, Dan took his daughter to the estate, where Laurie spent the rest of the day teaching her concealment and camouflage charms. The fairy was initially terrified of the wand pointed at her, but Hermione managed to talk her little friend down. On the way back, she and her father stopped at a gas station, and no one noticed the winged wonder perched on the girl’s shoulder. Now, before school, Hermione casts a whole series of charms on Flora, since none of the children from the orphanage are ordinary people, and they’re not yet supposed to know about magic—the Statute, damn it.
Hermione’s birthday passed quietly and peacefully: we sat quietly in the dining room that evening over tea and birthday cake. I gave my friend warm gloves embroidered with warming runes and a dozen more dresses for Flora. While I was sewing, I used a Barbie doll as a mannequin. Victoria almost fell over when we asked to go to the toy store. Incidentally, Hermione’s parents got Hermione a huge dollhouse, and now the fairy is in charge, even rearranging it overnight. She still sleeps on the pillow next to her, though.
Mione asked Integra about the Hogwarts letter. That naive girl thought they were sent on birthdays. Yeah, right, one of the Hogwarts Heads would drop everything and run to the Mudblood. Lady Hellsing enlightened us that letters are sent between July 25th and 31st, so wait until summer. Otherwise, the time until Halloween flew by.
***
On October 31, 1990, we were having lunch in the dining room, and the meal was only slightly different from our usual. While we don’t celebrate Halloween, we always go to church the next day. Though Mom tries to restrain herself, her religious fanaticism sometimes flares up. As we were almost to dessert, important guests arrived at the estate: Sir Hugh Islands and Baron Michael Havers. I wondered what the Chief Imperial Prosecutor wanted. The men greeted each other politely and requested an urgent audience with Integra. Judging by their gloomy and worried expressions, it was serious business. Mom politely excused herself and went with the guests to her office.
As I chewed my pudding, I wondered if it was a Potter curse. Why did all this crazy shit always happen on this day? I became an orphan on this day, the first time the Hog laid a hand on me was also on this day, and I was adopted, damn it, on Halloween too! And if you remember the movies, every year all sorts of crazy things started on October 31st. Looks like our ancestors screwed up somewhere, and now Harry and I are left to clean up the mess! Before I could even finish my treat, the bracelet on my wrist started to warm up. For some reason, I wasn’t even surprised.
Having climbed up to the third floor and announced myself with a polite knock, I entered the office. Mom was sitting in her chair at the large round table, a poker face on her face and a cigarillo in her hand, indicating extreme anger. To her right, a very pensive Sir Islands sat with a glass of wine, and to her left, Baron Havers, holding a large, thick folder. Seeing me, he stood up and nodded gallantly:
“Miss Hellsing, come in and sit down. We’re about to have a serious conversation,” he said, gesturing toward an empty chair.
“I’m against it! I won’t let my daughter’s life be risked!” Mom glared at the prosecutor.
“Lady Hellsing, you cannot refuse. The operation has been sanctioned by the Queen herself.” The Baron sighed heavily. “We’ve thought everything through. A hundred operatives will be working in the area, plus, um… the girl’s nanny will be nearby, and besides, I’m sure the child has an emergency portkey.”
– What happened? – I don’t like this conversation.
“Let me explain?” Sir Islands received a permissive wave of the hand from his mother and an assenting nod from the prosecutor, and turned to me: “Rigel, you know who pedophile maniacs are, right?”
After waiting for my nod and realizing that I was listening attentively, he continued:
“Basically, a pedophile has been operating in central London, near the Imperial Primary Academy, for over a year. We’re certain he’s a wizard—no one’s seen him, and his victims remember nothing. He always acts on the same day, the 5th, and follows the same pattern: he kidnaps a dark-haired girl of about ten, and the next day she’s found near the school with signs of violence. The criminal acts crudely, even cruelly, and erases the last couple of months of his victims’ lives from their memories.”
“But the last time, he crossed all boundaries,” the Baron said again. “He killed a guard and kidnapped the Duke of Lancaster’s youngest daughter. The next day, he abandoned the girl near the school fence and cast a powerful distraction charm on her. The child bled to death on the sidewalk for hours, begging for help, but passersby simply walked on. When the girl died, the charm wore off, allowing people to discover the body.
– And you want me to…
– Exactly, girl, we… – Baron Havers didn’t have time to finish speaking before his mother interrupted him:
– What about the polyjuice potion? Just give it to the police witch doctors and be done with it!
“As if we hadn’t guessed!” The prosecutor pointedly threw his hands up to the ceiling. “Where would we be without your wisdom? For the past six months, ten such girls have been ‘walking’ in this area every month on the 5th! But have you ever seen the walk of an adult and a child? They’re different, and this scum sees everything! You know that the Duke of Lancaster is the Queen’s second cousin once removed? Her Majesty is furious. She knows how the Hellsings train their children, and about Victoria too, so it’s time to serve the Crown!”
– How many? – Everyone looked at me with confusion. – How many children were injured?
“Fourteen.” Hevers opened the folder and quickly leafed through it. “Yes, Nicole Lancaster was the fourteenth. All the other girls survived and are relatively healthy.”
“I agree!” I looked firmly into his worried blue eyes. My empathy told me that all the adults didn’t like this idea, but this bastard had to be stopped.
“Integra, I assure you, nothing will happen to your daughter.” Old Man Hugh held up his hands in a placating gesture. “We’ve taken every security precaution; a hundred of our best plainclothes operatives will be on the streets, plus Victoria in the shadows next to the girl.”
– What should we do when we catch him? – Considering my “luck,” I’m sure the bastard will fall for me.
“Quoting the Queen: ‘ Punish as cruelly as possible, the scum must not survive .'” The prosecutor pulled several papers from a folder and handed them to Integra. “There’s the route we’ve developed, with dots indicating the people who will be on duty that day, and on the second sheet are the routes of our ‘girls.’ Tomorrow we’ll go to the tailor shop; the Imperial Elementary Academy has its own uniform.”
“Okay,” Integra muttered resignedly and looked at the prosecutor. “Michael, if anything happens to my daughter, I promise you’ll die a long, painful death.”
“I understand,” the man nodded in response. “But we have no choice. Your daughter is the perfect candidate.”
To keep things confidential, Walter brought me to the academy just before classes started. I sat through a few lessons under the curious gaze of the other kids and then went for a walk around the neighborhood. It’s a lovely place. It’s an expensive area, no wonder—a year at this school costs 10,000 pounds! In three hours, I visited a bookshop, had a bite to eat at an expensive cafe, and stopped at a jewelry store. The salespeople treated me well, which isn’t surprising—they know the kind of parents whose children attend the neighboring school. I even spotted a cute gold and diamond ring; the prosecutor told me to act natural, so I pretended to be the slightly spoiled daughter of very rich parents. When my legs started to tire, my instincts told me to take a shortcut through a small alley, and I’m used to trusting my intuition.
I’d barely reached the middle of the cozy alley when a curse flew at my back, shattering against the ring’s passive shield. I turned around instantly, my pistol already loaded with enchanted bullets. At the entrance to the alley, I saw the head of a dark-haired, gray-haired man hanging in the air. So that’s why the bobby-witches hadn’t seen him; the bastard was hiding under his invisibility cloak! Judging by the surprised expression on his neatly bearded face, the wizard hadn’t expected the spell to misfire. He looked at me with disdain and grinned, the bastard. But the next moment, the grin vanished, and his brown eyes darted around in panic.
“What, you silly boy, were you thinking of running away from me?” Victoria sang softly into the pedophile’s ear. She held his shoulder with one hand; judging by his height, only his head and the hand holding the cane were visible.
The man screamed loudly. Victoria squeezed the bastard’s hand holding the wand, squeezing it so tightly that a bloody mess of meat, bones, and wood splinters oozed out from between her fingers. I slowly approached the bastard, grabbed the invisibility cloak by feel, and tore it off. Hmm… And the guy isn’t used to pain; judging by his pants, the “poor guy” had wet himself. I heard a crunch; Victoria squeezed his shoulder harder and seemed to break his collarbone. The alley echoed with more cries of pain.
“No one will hear you scream, sweetie.” The girl licked his ear. “And even if they do, they’ll misunderstand.”
– He won’t run away? – I turned to Victoria. – And where is Bobby?
“No, he’s not going anywhere. I have good control over spatial magic.” The vampire grinned contentedly. “Yummy activated the portkey, but that happens to older men—one moment—and it doesn’t work. And the bobbies will appear when I turn off the distraction artifact.”
– I see. – I smiled cheerfully and turned to the loser. – So what should we do with you?
“I am Lord of Magic Selwyn!” this parody of a man managed to squeeze out through tears and groans. “Do you even know…”
“Shhh…” Victoria put a finger to his lips. “Right now you’re just a tasty morsel, prey caught by a dangerous predator. I’ll drink you dry, but first I’ll break every bone in your body.”
“Victoria, wait!” I bared my teeth predatorily. It seemed her bloodthirstiness had rubbed off on me. “I have a better idea! Look, you can…”
***
Breakfast was drawing to a close when Lori entered the dining room, wearing an expensive black robe and a matching pointed hat. She stood at attention before Integra, waited for her superior nod, and handed her the newspaper. Then, with a smile, she turned and placed my copy of the Daily Prophet on the table.
“Diagon Alley is in an uproar. There’s a line for newspapers, and the crowd is in a panic.” The girl finished her report and left the room. “Let’s see what the magical news has to say.”
The front-page photo evoked a sense of beauty in me: a mansion in the antique style with a broken door and blood-stained white columns of the portico, the remains of a couple of people on the porch, a dozen wizards in Auror robes, wands in hand, looking down on this disgrace, while a tall, gray-haired man in a black cloak, leaning on a staff, barked out kicks and orders. Incidentally, a prosthetic leg in the shape of a clawed paw was visible from beneath his cloak, and when he turned his scarred face into the frame, his artificial eye looked in a completely different direction. So this is you, Mad-Eye Moody. Above the photo, a screaming headline blared in black:
Bloody massacre at Selwyn Manor!
Dear readers, I, Rita Skeeter, hasten to inform you of the unimaginably horrific events that occurred last evening in the home of the pureblood and noble Selwyn family. This unheard-of incident claimed the lives of an entire family of noble wizards, as well as two valiant Aurors who risk their lives every day to protect the citizens of Wizarding Britain. I was able to obtain the details of the tragedy firsthand! So allow me to tell this bloody, chilling story from the very beginning.
It all began yesterday, November 5th, 1990. For over a year now, on this day, the noble and purebred wizard Cecil Selwyn has been visiting his old friend, Leroy Pusey. These well-bred gentlemen gather at Pusey Manor on the 5th of every month, play chess, and discuss matters of concern to gentlemen, lords, and fathers of families over a glass of good Ogden’s. In short, they spend their leisure time as befits respectable men. The venerable Lord of Magic, Selwyn, must have decided to pick up a bottle of fine Firewhiskey on his way to see his old friend, and that, dear readers, is when something terrible happened! A true nightmare descended upon our blessed isles for the first time in two centuries!
Brave Lord Selwyn has encountered an ancient vampire! Yes, dear readers, that’s right! A terrifying, dangerous, and insane creature has reappeared on the isles! As a true gentleman and patriot of his country, Cecil Selwyn engaged in an unequal battle with the dark creature to protect the citizens of Magical Britain. But alas! The monster proved too powerful, and in retaliation for its serious wounds and irreparable injuries (and it couldn’t be any other way, as we all know Lord Selwyn is a superb fighter and master of the dark arts!), the bloodthirsty monster decided to inflict a heartless, indelible insult on the noble wizard! And, mother of magic, how hard it is to write this, dear readers… It turned the most worthy lord into a terrifying ghoul!
In case you didn’t know, ghouls are dark creatures of the highest danger category! Aggressive, fast, and extremely tenacious undead predators, thirsting for only one thing: human flesh! Even now, my blood runs cold, but fear not! The Ministry of Magic and the valiant Aurors stand guard over the peace and well-being of our citizens!
By a terrible and absurd accident, after the appeal, Lord Selwyn’s emergency portkey activated, transporting the creature to the ancestral manor of a most ancient and noble family. And what followed is incredibly difficult for me to tell… At that tragic moment, the unfortunate Cecil’s beautiful wife, Miranda Selwyn, was in the house, as were their children: nine-year-old heir Matthew and his younger sister, seven-year-old Dana. As if that weren’t enough, Lord Leroy Pucey’s youngest son, Edward, was also visiting his old friends. Just try to imagine for a second the scale of the tragedy?!
As soon as the monster entered the room, it immediately pounced on the innocent children and began devouring them alive! It literally tore little Dana to pieces. Poor Edward was disemboweled alive, his intestines hanging on the walls like Christmas lights. And Matthew… I really hate to write this, but his remains are still being collected throughout the manor. Fearless Miranda managed to signal the Auror squad on duty and rushed to protect her children! But alas, by the time the guardians of law and order arrived, the bloodthirsty monster, once a noble representative of the ancient Selwyn family, had already ripped open his wife’s chest and was devouring her heart.
Our valiant defenders engaged in mortal combat with the dark creature and, suffering heavy losses, were forced to retreat to call for reinforcements. Only the combined efforts of four Battle Stars, led by Alastor Moody himself, were they able to destroy the vile creature that had destroyed an innocent pureblood family.
However, one question remains: where did the original spawn of darkness go? Where is the ancient vampire licking his grievous wounds?
Dear readers, I hasten to reassure you: the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, has taken personal control of the case! This honest and kind-hearted wizard is devoted to the citizens of our country, staying up nights thinking about the well-being of British wizards! With his characteristic zeal and enthusiasm, he has alerted every available unit of the DML and Aurors, and even brought in the Department of Mysteries! Yes, don’t be surprised – for the safety of his constituents, the Minister has used every resource available to him! As the esteemed Cornelius has stated, specialists will comb the entire country and will definitely find the culprit! So I’m sure the dark creature will soon be caught and destroyed, but until then, be careful and don’t wander at night! If you see or hear anything suspicious, call the Aurors immediately! These valiant defenders will arrive promptly and will be sure to assist you.
I will follow the progress of events closely and keep you informed!
The voice of honest and unbiased news, your eyes and ears, Rita Skeeter.
I turned the page, but found nothing interesting further on – praise for the ministry, grief for the noble wizard, and other nonsense.
Sergei was right when he told us about higher vampires—they’re real monsters! Not only is a higher bloodsucker nearly impossible to kill, but in a short time, they can also create an entire army of obedient puppets. Moreover, the aggressiveness and bloodthirstiness of these creatures directly depends on the source material. Alucard told me that, as an experiment, he once turned a good-natured boy herding sheep in a field. As soon as the unfortunate man realized what he’d become, he immediately fled into the forest, where he fed on carrion for over a month, and then confronted the hunters himself without resisting his slaughter. But turned psychos and maniacs need to be kept under strict control, as they even attack each other. I had no idea Selwyn was so crazy. What did he do with the girls if he devoured his own family without any commands or orders?
After Victoria turned that bastard into a ghoul, we simply sent him home. I thought he’d scare the crap out of his family, maybe bite someone, and then die peacefully. Killing him isn’t that hard, after all. Just look at how Alucard rushed to India last year to eliminate the “nobodies who thought they were vampires.” Before he died, that bloodsucker managed to convert an entire village, over a hundred creatures! But two platoons of Order soldiers handled them without any trouble.
Overall, the intimidation campaign was a resounding success. I don’t think his family didn’t know about this bastard’s little “hobby.” I do feel a little sorry for the kids, but it wasn’t me who killed them, it was their beloved daddy. Besides, there are three less juvenile racists, so I won’t suffer from remorse.
I put the newspaper down and turned to my mother, who had already finished reading her copy of the magical herald.
“I’m proud of you, daughter.” Integra looked at me with satisfaction. “The Hellsings have always punished their enemies cruelly and mercilessly! The Duke of Lancaster and Her Majesty will be pleased.”
– Thank you! – I nodded in response.
“By the way, Emma called me this morning. There won’t be any training today; the Grangers have a family celebration planned for the evening to celebrate… Hmm… Your friend will tell you the details herself.” Mom smiled. “So after school, we’ll also go to a restaurant to celebrate your success.”
The whole way to school, I was consumed with curiosity about the Grangers’ holiday, even preparing to interrogate my friend. But upon arrival, Hermione herself rushed to hug me, squealing that she was soon to have a baby brother: Emma had an ultrasound that morning, and everything was confirmed. She and Dan had a second honeymoon in France, and given the magical spring beneath the villa, there’s a 90% chance of having a little wizard. According to my friend, Integra has already made arrangements with Smethwick; the Grangers will arrive at the estate in a week for a detailed examination.
I’m so happy for them! I understand perfectly well that in less than a year, Hermione will be leaving for Hogwarts, and they’ll only see each other during the holidays. So her parents decided it was too early for them to live for themselves, so they made a baby.
– Congratulations again! – We sat in class and talked in whispers. – Have you thought of a name yet?
“Not yet, but the debates are epic.” The girl is practically beaming with happiness. “Mom has already ordered a birthday cake; I’ll bring you a piece tomorrow if Flora doesn’t eat it. By the way, she made something for Vasya.”
The fairy, already perched on her friend’s shoulder as usual, perked up, squeaked something, and flew over to me, barely holding a matchbox in her hands. On the day the pets met, Flora brazenly rushed up to Vasya, perched on his head, and began stroking the future snake king’s crest. Vasily, however, not only didn’t attack her, but, on the contrary, began hissing contentedly and rolling his eyes. Now, in the evenings, when we’re waiting for Dan, the snake rolls the little fairy around the room and calls her “my cunt.”
Flora landed on my notebook, set the box down with a groan, and with her right hand drew something resembling a snake. Then she poked the box and cupped both her hands into a heart. Inside were several red berries. What passions our pets run wild with! And here’s the answer: last week, Vasya found a dandelion flower somewhere and presented it to the fairy. Where he dug up a live one at the end of October remains a mystery. I hope their relationship doesn’t go sexual. For a second, I imagined a winged snake with arms and shuddered. Brrr… And besides, the snake has grown almost a meter long; it’s better if they remain friends.
***
The time before final exams flew by. I was so busy, I almost missed Christmas, which was marked only by another ribbing with an ancient vampire, red mittens from me, and pink pajamas from him. But we were sitting quietly at a festive dinner, and before I could even blink, Walter was dragging a drunken Dan, who was celebrating the birth of little Hector. My friend’s little brother was born on May 5th and named after his grandfather. The main thing is not to tell our potions master, or that lunatic will die of envy. The boy was born a wizard, as the visiting mediwizard confirmed with a forced smile. Hermione and I didn’t even study for the exams; thanks to Occlumency, I can now recite textbooks, to say nothing of ‘Mione.
On June 20th, I proudly presented my elementary school diploma to my mother. My grades, of course, were all A and A+. Yes, my friend and I were straight-A students. The next day, I went to an amusement park for the first time in my life, where Hermione and I gorged ourselves on cotton candy and screamed our heads off on the roller coaster, which for some reason they call Russian here. Overall, I was having a blast, and my mother was smiling along with everyone else. However, her gaze was extremely thoughtful, and she was generally tense. Just like me, tomorrow is the summer solstice, and Alucard said it’s the perfect day for the ritual. And despite my confidence in myself and my mother, a certain fear remained.
***
The big day came suddenly, even though I’d been waiting and mentally preparing for over a year. I might not survive the blood adoption ritual. But, as they say, you’ll never live to see it!
At sunset, my mother, Alucard, and I descended to the ritual chamber on the very bottom level of the estate. The room was relatively small: a square, five by five meters, illuminated by magical lamps, with walls of glossy black stone and a floor that resembled a black mirror—the stones were so tightly fitted and polished. At the entrance, we stripped naked, took the long linen shirts the vampire handed us, quickly changed, and walked to the center of the room.
Alucard pulled a large wooden goblet out of thin air, and I extended my right hand forward. The ancient vampire made a show of waving his left hand, and a deep cut appeared on my wrist, from which my blood poured into the cup. There was so much blood, I was already starting to feel dizzy and my vision was blurring, when the vampire, with another gesture, caused the wound to close, and I greedily sucked on the vial of blood-forming elixir that had landed in my hands.
While I was recovering, my mother went through the same procedure until the container was filled to the brim. Then Alucard passed his hand over the bowl and spoke in a language unfamiliar to me. The blood gathered into a sphere and rose to the ceiling, beginning to spread into a complex pattern. I strained and was able to discern a complex 64-pointed star with a vast number of unfamiliar signs and symbols. Once the ritual diagram was complete, it began to descend smoothly, and soon a complex ritual figure glowed faintly red on the black floor. Integra stood on the top beam, and I stood in the center.
Alucard turned to his mother, continuing to speak in the ancient language, and handed her the cup.
– Yes! – Integra took a large sip of our mixed blood.
The vampire turned around and spoke to me now. I don’t speak this language, but I understand what he’s asking me.
– Yes! – I took a sip of the salty liquid with a metallic taste.
The ancient monster uttered his final words and poured the remaining liquid over my head. The ritual circuit glowed brightly, and I arched. I screamed in unbearable pain. It felt like I’d been electrocuted, had thousands of needles driven under my skin, and was being dipped in a vat of boiling water. I also felt as if an invisible thread or string had snapped inside me, stretching somewhere beyond the horizon. For a moment, I thought I was going crazy: Alyoshka, wearing an Imperial officer’s uniform, stood by the door to the ritual chamber, nodding his head contentedly. And then someone turned off the lights… Or maybe I lost consciousness.
This consciousness returned in fits and starts. I tried to open my eyes several times, but each effort sent a wave of hellish pain through me, and I blacked out again. At some point, I finally managed to grasp the fact that I was still alive and relatively healthy, though I felt a nagging pain, weakness, and a heaviness in my chest. Opening my eyes, I met a pair of vertical, snake-like pupils: Vasya was lying on my chest, seemingly vibrating. I could sense my pet’s anxiety in my gut.
– Vasya? – The voice is very hoarse, it seems she finally lost it. – Is that you?
– No, f*ck, dick in a leather coat. – The pet grumbles discontentedly.
– What are you doing here?
– He helped and shared.
– How? With what? – It’s still very difficult to think and comprehend.
– By force. The stream was divided underground, the house was helping, and I decided to support. I’m not some idiot; the owner is in trouble – I’m helping.
I focused on the snake, and he’d lost weight, and his scales had dulled a bit, though he was still a long way from molting. What was going on? Was he saying the magical source was feeding me magic? The estate itself was supporting me? I closed my eyes, concentrated, and felt home! It was like nothing else, it was… It was… I can’t even describe it in words, it was my home now! The magic itself felt like home, warm and gentle, enveloping me, as if trying to help and protect. I smiled contentedly—it had worked! Now I was a Hellsing by blood!
I opened my eyes and turned to my pet again, wanting to clarify one important question:
– Vasya, how long was I lying there?
– I’m so nervous I’m chewing my tail. The sun went below the horizon three times.
– Thank you, you’re the best . – Holy shit, I was out cold for three days. I wonder how Mom is doing?
” You can’t spread thank you on bread or put it in your mouth, ” the snake growled discontentedly. ” Lie down, you weakling. I’ll call the head mistress, she’s been rushing around the house like a madwoman all this time.”
Before I could fully comprehend the fact that I’d survived again and the ritual had been successful, a hurricane of Mom and Victoria burst into the room. They both rushed to hug me, examine me, and ask how I was feeling. It didn’t take any empathy to feel the love and care from these two.
“Water.” I managed to croak out when my visitors calmed down at least a little.
My mother immediately perked up and began pouring a bunch of potions into me from the bandolier on the nightstand next to my bed. I immediately felt better, but my eyes were starting to droop. My now-mother saw my condition, smiled warmly, and kissed me on the forehead. Before drifting off to sleep, I noticed dark circles under her eyes. It seemed Integra hadn’t slept all day.
Well, the dream of both my lives has come true – I have a real family! And a mother who loves me! I’d strangle anyone for this wonderful woman… But all this will come later, as they say, sleep is the best medicine.
