Holy Water Upon Undead Flesh
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or Angel; nor any of their characters.
A hand roughly slapped her face several times, forcing the young strawberry blond to at least open her eyes.
Seras regretted it.
Her captor’s face belonged to an amazingly young man. And from what she could tell, he was as human as they come. But somehow, this boy somehow managed to sneak up on her, disarm her of her gun, and capture her for reasons and intentions unknown.
The fact that he was sporting a cold smile that matched his decidedly icy blue eyes, did not help matters any.
Flexing her hands, she realized her wrists and ankles had been manacled together, tiny runes of some forgotten language inscribed upon them. Struggle as she might they would not yield. It seemed to amuse the young man before her.
“Let me go,” ordered Seras.
“No,” replied the young man, still smiling as he took a step closer.
“Why have you abducted me?” She demanded, looking around. They were in a warehouse of some sort. Nearby a small sleeping pack sat against a crate. The remains of an instant dinner sat against a folding chair.
“Why not?” The smile widened a little more, “No one will miss you. After I take what I want from you, stake you, you’ll disappear from this world. No one will ever know you even existed.”
“What the hell are you on?” the draculina exclaimed.
“Don’t lie, vampire,” replied the young man confidently as he produced a small bottle of clear water, “If there is one vampire in this city, then there are others. Where is the vampire nest?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She cried, “Let me go you bloody loony!”
“Hmmm, vampires were never really that smart,” murmured the young man with a soft sigh. He uncorked the bottle and flicked it at her general direction. Several drops splattered against her face, neck, and chest. They immediately began steaming, her skin becoming red and raw.
The pain was excruciating. However, having survived a Paladin’s bayonets, this was nothing compared to that experience.
“Speak, vampire,” said the young man, his voice still pleasant, “Or I shall work my way up from your feet to your head. I can enough holy water to adequately burn you away three times over. Can you bare the pain? I doubt it. Tell me where the nest is.”
“There are plenty of ‘nests’ around,” spat Seras angrily, “But you’ve got the wrong girl.”
“No, I don’t think so,” chuckled Connor as he removed her boots, tossing them aside as he admired her dainty toes, “You see, when I came to this city to remove the infestation, I found virtually quite a lot of them. So I cleaned house.”
“You mean you’re the one whose been killing them all?” Exclaimed the young vampire incredulously, “That’s impossible, and no offense meant, but you’re just a kid!”
“Oh, what happened to the foul mouthed brit?” Scoffed the apparent vampire hunter, “No, merely improbable. It took me some time to find all the right ones, but they were trash. Freshly born vampires seeking the thrills and newfound powers of their kind. I ended them. But for everyone one I slew, dusted, staked, another and another would appear. The ones I interrogated told me of a woman in of your appearance, stature, and general clothing to be their sires. They say your master seeks to make an army out of them to conquer this city. That, I cannot allow to come to pass.”
“What.” Seras’s jaw had dropped from the deluge of information presented to her. This kid somehow managed to destroy dozens of vampires and suppress outbreaks across the entire city? Is this the kid the reason the entire rise slowed to a trickle?
“Now, tell me where your nest is,” hissed the young man as he bathed her ankle in holy water.
Her shrieks filled the air. For what seemed like hours, Seras screamed as her skin and muscles peeled away, the steam filling the air. Part ash and part vapor, it was literally dust billowing into the air as the holy water burned away at her undead flesh. No matter how much she screamed that she was not who he thought she was, no matter how much she begged, no matter how much she prayed for her Master to come and rescue her…
The pain throbbed as her stumps of an arm and her legs continued to steam away. Her skins, once pale and smooth were now reddish and sweating. Seras sobbed softly to herself, mentally screaming for someone to come and find her, to take her away from this torture.
“No one will come rescue you,” assured the young man, his voice slightly tired, “This place has been warded against psychic links. Your minions won’t save you.”
With that, he started it again.
It wasn’t long before she began screaming once more.