"While Alucard was everywhere and nowhere, Integra's son and heir takes over Hellsing and tortures Seras into insanity. She will become an essential part of his plan in order to best the no-life king upon his return. After all, to defeat a king, you're going to need a queen."
Pearls of laughter echoed through the otherwise dark and empty chamber. One single inhabitant swung gently through the air, swaying like a flag from the ceiling. She hung upside down like a bat, her body being held up in the air by black leather straps that tied around her ankles, each polished with blessed silver that left painful burn marks against her flesh. Her hands were tied together by the same straps and hung loosely over her head as she continued to sway herself. Apart from the leather straps, she wore only a white leotard that seemed invisible against her porcelain white skin.
Dried blood also decorated her body with deep crimson marks that appeared to have also been dripped down to the stone ground beneath her swinging body. The smell was driving her crazy and she had long given up trying to extend her tongue down to reach it. Not that it would have mattered since it was old and dry, leaving nothing to be lapped up.
Red eyes glowed with a maniacal frustration. Her large breast heaved up and down as she panted, her swaying becoming even more desperate as she once again tried to break free from her restraints. Her almost white hair hung messily from her scalp, dry and caked in dirt, looking more like straw than hair. Her full lips were also chapped and dry. Most of her skin looked like chipped stone that was covered in a fine layer of dust, dirt and blood.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been left here. Time had no meaning anymore.
The sound of footsteps reached her ears, causing another round of giggles to escape her lips. However, her glowing eyes dulled as if she had retreated completely inwards, like a snail hiding itself from a predator. Her chest tightened, and if her undead heart could beat, it probably would have been throbbing in her chest, begging for her to escape.
At the mere thought of escape, her hands began to burn, causing her giggles to turn into pathetic whimpers.
The footsteps grew closer before they stopped outside the large door that sealed the young woman inside her cell. Her sensitive ears picked up on the quickening heartbeat of the person just beyond the thick concrete door. Their excitement radiated off them, and the young woman cringed back at the sudden loud sounds of the bolts on the door being removed. They grated against her eardrums and she let out a growl of irritation when the bright light of a torch was shone directly into her ears.
Her guest chuckled, and Seras hissed in response, before calming when the light was lowered from her face.
“Is that any way to greet your lord and master, Seras?” a deep voice that haunted Seras’ every nightmare purred from the doorway.
Seras said nothing, keeping her eyes downcast in submission.
The figure by the door approached, setting the torch down on the ground which now illuminated the air around them. Seras’ eyes darted towards the open door that led out into the long corridor that promised her freedom. She shook against her straps again, desperate to break free.
“Ah-ah-ah!” the man in front of her scolded before striking her across the face. “You know that’s a very naughty thing to do.”
Seras whimpered again, her cheek stinging from the slap. However, that cheek was then cradled in a warm hand as if to soothe the damage. It was hard to believe that both actions had been carried out by the same hand. At the soft touch, Seras dared to look up and meet the ice blue eyes of master and captor. His eyes gave little away as they contrasted against his tan skin. The site of his face always tugged at Seras’ memory, as if he reminded her of someone, but the memory was always snatched away from her before she could reach it. His dark brown hair had grown slightly longer since she had last seen him, and it hung almost to his shoulders.
“Are you hungry, my little pet?” the man asked, pulling his hand away from Seras’ cheek to reach down for the knife that he kept tucked away in his belt. He brought it up to his wrist, slicing the blade across his skin. Deep red blood instantly began oozing out, the scent hitting Seras as if she had just been run over by a large truck.
She swung herself forward desperately, her tied hands reaching out towards the life-sustaining liquid, her mouth becoming drier as it begged for a taste. The man merely chuckled in response, taking a taunting step back as he held his blood soaked wrist in the air, the blood now covering the scars from the many other times he had repeated this action with his pet vampire.
“But first,” the man added, still holding his wrist back from the ravenous vampire, “how does your neck feel today?”
Seras frowned in confusion like she always did at this question. Though she had a feeling that today would finally grant him the answer he was looking for, as her neck had been tingling slightly all day. It was one of the many reasons that she was particularly restless today, though she wasn’t sure why.
“Tickles,” was all Seras could muster the strength to say, her voice hoarse and quiet.
“Very good,” her master purred again, this time bringing his wrist close to the female vampire’s face.
She immediately latched on, and the man cradled her head as she did so, groaning slightly as she began suckling from him. Seras felt him press his face against her neck, smiling against her skin. She pushed away the urge to shudder in discomfort, not liking someone pressing themselves against a vulnerable point of her body. But her master did this a lot, so she left him be. She would be punished if she tried to shake him away anyway.
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