To say that she was upset would be understandable. After all, her father had just died. Quite suddenly actually, for Sir Hocus Hellsing had been a healthy and strong man who took sensible risks. A bit of a madcap schemer at times, but a good man nonetheless. His death had been quite a shock to all who knew him, and she was no exception to the rule.

The funeral had been attended to by family and cohort alike, but not many friends. Hocus didn't keep friends. He made close acquaintances true, but none he could definitely call friends. Such relationships were reserved for his benefactor: Princess Luna herself. She and Hocus had shared a very close friendship and she had been as heartbroken as his family was when he passed. Of course, what followed after the funeral had surprised them all.

Luna had taken her aside and confirmed that she would inherit her father's knighthood and all the responsibilities that came with it.

Her. Sir Trixie Lulamoon Hellsing, now Knight of Equestria and the newest heiress to Princess Luna's Hellsing Organisation. Quite a mouthful, but an important one nevertheless.

And so here she was, a teenage girl, barely out of school, in the back of a chauffeur - driven car, being driven to her destination to begin her new life as the new head of Hellsing. Trixie would be lying if she said she was naive of what her father's... her organisation did. She knew exactly why it existed.

Vampires were real, and Hellsing was born to protect the empire of Equestria from their vile threat.

The thought of the supernatural not being so farfetched and the paranormal not being so impossible excited Trixie. Ever since she had learned of what the Hellsing Organisation did, she had dedicated all of her free time to studying and researching about the occult. By the time she was sixteen she had already become quite the expert in occult affairs. Of course she knew most of what she had learned would most likely be grossly inaccurate but it would work as a base of sorts for her to work off of.

She brushed some of her silvery blue hair out of her face as the car pulled up the graveled drive of mansion of Hellsing HQ. It came to a slow, controlled stop in front of the steps before the front door of the mansion. Trixie's door was opened for her and she stepped out, looking up at the stately manor that had been in her family since Hellsing was founded.

"Sir Trixie. Welcome to Hellsing Headquarters."

She looked up the steps and for the first time noticed the figure standing there, a tall slightly aged looking woman with pale white skin. Her purple, curly hair was pulled back into a pony tail, a few curls however falling over her vibrant blue eyes. She was dressed in a white blouse with long sleeves, snowy white gloves, sharp black trousers, a deep purple waistcoat and a pair of polished black shoes. Perched on her nose was a pair of wire rimmed glasses.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Sir Trixie," she said, bowing only slightly. "I am Rarity Caroline Belle. I was your father's personal assistant when he ran the organization, and I have served as butler to the manor for just as long. I cook the food, clean the rooms and take out the rubbish."

"Wouldn't that technically make you a maid then?" Trixie blurted, before she could stop herself. Rarity's mouth twitched into a controlled smile.

"Wouldn't your title make you a Dame rather than a Sir?" Rarity returned.

"Touché," Trixie agreed and smiled. Rarity allowed a true smile to appear on her face as well, before turning and gesturing to the door.

"Would you care for a guided tour of the mansion, sir?" she asked.

"If you would be so kind, Miss Belle," Trixie said, stepped up beside Rarity. "Or would you prefer to be called Rarity?"

"Rarity if you'd be so kind, sir," Rarity said as she opened the door to the mansion. "Miss Belle makes me sound old."

"Rarity it shall be then," Trixie said. "How long have you worked with Hellsing, Rarity?"

"Around thirty years, sir," Rarity answered. Trixie looked at her.

"But that means you must have started as a teenager?" she said. Rarity nodded.

"You are more or less correct. I took my father's place at the side of the late Hocus Hellsing when I was eleven years old," Rarity explained. "He was good man. A bit eccentric, but kind."

"That he was," Trixie agreed.

The two walked through the halls in silence for a while, Rarity pointing out a few features of the mansion every now and then. They passed a variety of people, from men and woman in white lab coats to soldiers dressed in combat fatigues, each marked with the same crest: a simple black and red shield.

"Is there a library, Rarity?" Trixie asked. "I feel that if I am to be in charge of Hellsing, I must be appropriately informed on everything that we deal with here."

"A library you say?" Rarity wondered. "Right this way, sir."

The Hellsing library was a vast, high ceilinged room with tall bookshelves that towered above the heads of Trixie and Rarity. Each shelf was stuffed to bursting with thick dusty tombs and volumes. The books were bound in a wide range of materials: leather, canvas and velvet just to name a handful. And they were written in a variety of languages too, most of them some old and forgotten dialect.

"Have you managed to translate any of these volumes?" Trixie asked as she approached one of the bookshelves, tracing one finger along the dusty spine of a cracked and aged text.

"A majority have been translated from their original dialogues to English to the best of our abilities," Rarity answered. "It has been the endeavor of your uncle to have all these books translated into a common tongue."

"And no one else’s, I might add!"

Trixie and Rarity looked up to see a man just as tall as Trixie step out from behind a bookshelf. His pale skin was matched by his straw coloured hair and bristly moustache and offset by his charcoal grey suit and black shoes. His eyes were the same shade of lilac as Trixie's, though they were framed by black rimmed glasses.

"Uncle Pocus," Trixie said, smiling at the sight of her uncle, though a stab of pain quivered in her heart. He looked so much like her father she could almost believe he hadn't gone. Almost.

"Sir Trixie," Pocus said, bowing deeply before he straightened up and nodded curtly to Rarity. "Miss Belle."

"Mister Hellsing," Rarity acknowledged, nodding in return. Pocus turned to Trixie.

"So, you're the new head of the Hellsing Organisation, my young niece?" Pocus said rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. He let out a long exhalation of air, ruffling the hairs on his moustache, before he began to walk away from the room. He stopped beside Trixie and looked at her. "I hope your father knew what he was doing."

And then he was gone.

Trixie looked at his back as he exited the room and bit her lip. Rarity caught the look and shared a similar expression.

"Your uncle has been acting rather peculiar since your father died," she explained.

"I noticed," Trixie muttered, before she turned back to Rarity and then the rest of the library. "So... where should I begin?"

Trixie was still in the library many hours later, poring over books and manuscripts alike. Her eyes were tired, her eyelids heavy, and yet her brain was buzzing and her heart was pounding with all the new information she was processing. She estimated that the library contained all three hundred years of the Hellsing family's occult knowledge, and much more besides.

So far she felt she had only read through about a single year.

She paused and rubbed her eyes to dislodge some sleep from the corners. She pushed out her chair and got to her feet before stretching and giving out a long, drawn out yawn.

"I need a drink," she mumbled to herself. "Just some water." She turned and walked out of the library. After about twenty minutes she had found her way to something that resembled a kitchen. She knew she could have easily called for Rarity to get her a drink but she didn't feel comfortable enough as the new leader of Hellsing to be issuing such trivial orders.

Trixie opened the faucet and filled up a glass to the brim with cool water. She took a long draft before she stepped back out into the hallway and began to make her way down the darkened halls towards the library. Trixie had decided as she had made her way towards the kitchen that she did not like Hellsing HQ after nightfall. There were fewer people patrolling the halls, there was no light pouring in through the many windows, and she often swore she could see things moving in the shadows.

All in all she was severely creeped out.

She heard voices as she neared the library. She slowed and frowned. Something told Trixie that there was something terribly, drastically wrong. Soon enough however she was close enough to hear the words being spoken.

"... swear she was here before I came to get you."

"Well, clearly she isn't here now!" Trixie's eyes widened. That was her uncle's voice, and he sounded angry.

"She can't have gotten far."

"How do you know? I mean, this is a big place. I'm not ashamed to admit I've gotten lost a fair few times in this place. Who knows what it'll do to a little girl."

"I don't care where she is, I want her found, damnit!" Pocus again. "Do you know how long I stood by and watched my fool of a brother control this institute? I've been waiting and watching for nearly twenty years now and I can't wait any longer. Hellsing will be mine!"

Trixie's eyes widened. She definitely didn't like the sound of that. She shook her head and edged a step backwards, yet she was hypnotized by the words that were being spoken.

"Yeah well, it's a pity he named his daughter the next to inherit his knighthood. Else we wouldn't have this problem."

"A PITY!" Pocus roared. "I wait patiently for twenty years, ready for the perfect moment, for when my brother lowered his guard and allowed me to intervene! And then, when my chance arose and when Hocus Hellsing choked down that last breath of life laced with cyanide I thought I had done it! And what do I find merely hours later? He chose his damn daughter over me! And the only thing you can describe it as is as a pity?!"

"I only meant-"

"Shut up! I didn't ask for your opinion! I asked for you to find my little bitch of a niece and bring her to me! I don't care what it takes, but Hellsing will...no. Hellsing is rightfully MINE!"

Trixie's heart was hammering a bruise on the inside of her ribs. Her uncle had killed her father? And judging from what he was saying, he wanted to kill her too. She felt dizzy, sick. She wanted to run but her legs refused to move. Her fingers slipped on the glass in her hand and if fell from her grasp, where it shattered on the floor.

"What was that?"

Trixie shook her head and took a step back.

"It's her! Find her!"

This broke her out of her stupor. She turned on her heel and sprinted down the corridor as fast as her legs could carry her. She heard shouts and cries from behind her and running footsteps, as if a stable of stampeding horses were chasing after her.

Trixie didn't look behind her. She didn't know where she was running to. The entire mansion was unfamiliar to her. She didn't know where to go to get help, or who she could trust. Her uncle had men on his side. Men who worked for him, who meant to kill her. Who knew how many others were on Pocus' side.

"Shoot her! For god's sake, just shoot her!"

Trixie's eyes widened as she heard her uncle order for her to be shot. Without thinking she threw herself at the first door she came across. It juddered slightly before it stuck. She cried out in frustration and slammed herself against the door again, as a shot rang out. The bullet impacted against the wall above her head. She screamed and threw herself at the door again as the marksman pulled the trigger.

The door yielded and Trixie fell through. However instead of falling onto a carpeted floor in a well - furnished room, she saw darkness, within which was a single stone passageway, carving a path down underground in a flight of stone steps. A flight of stone steps Trixie found she was now falling down from.

She grunted in pain as she struck the flagstones and bounced off, rolling head over heels again and again. Every jarring strike of her body on stone sent a lance of white hot pain through her body, forcing gasps of pain from her over exerted lungs.

After an eternity of pain she landed at the bottom of the stairs, gasping in agony. Stars danced before Trixie's eyes as she lay there, trying to find the energy and strength to move. Pocus' voice floated down from the top of the staircase. Trixie groaned and pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she got up. She hissed and gasped in pain with each and every step she took. Her vision darkened with each agonizing step and it took a lot of effort to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

She heard footsteps steadily growing louder behind her and she struggled to move faster, her gasps of pain becoming grunts of agony. Fear and adrenaline coursed through her, but she refused to let the former show. She would not give her uncle the satisfaction of seeing her fear. If she was going to die, it would be on her feet, her head held high. She didn't want to die, of course. Who would wish their own death? And besides, she still had a job to do. She had been in charge of Hellsing for merely a day.

She blinked and looked up. She found herself at a door. An old, cast iron door, that looked rusted. And yet, as Trixie looked at it, this cold, uninviting, forgotten door, seemed to speak to her. A voice, wriggling at the back of her mind, wanted her to open the doorway and see what lay beyond. At the same time, another voice said that what was on the other side of that door had been put here for a reason. She took a look behind her to see how far her uncle was from her, before reaching a shaking hand out to the door.

It was chained and padlocked, but as she reached her hand to the rusted locks, they each fell away at her touch. One even crumbled to dust and metal shards. The chains too collapsed as she touched each one, breaking into their component links and metallic fragments.

Trixie gulped as the final barrier to the door was removed and she reached for the handle. Despite it being rusted and old, it turned easily to her touch. She pushed her weight against the old metal and it swung with a grinding squeal.

The air was cold inside, freezing to Trixie's very bones. Her breath clouded into a deep fog as she stepped inside, looking for whatever had been left inside this most forgotten of chambers. She could barely see a few inches in front of her nose; it was so dark. However despite this, her eyes soon grew accustomed to the darkness, and they widened when she saw what lay at the very back of the dark room.

A corpse. A dried up, shriveled husk of a body, with skin like leather. What remained of its hair hung off its practically bald scalp like greasy black strings. Its glassy red eyes were coated in a thin layer of frozen dust and grime, and its mouth hung empty and dislocated, revealing blacked, rotting pointed fangs were teeth should be.

Trixie stood as frozen as there air around her, eyes fixed on the body before her, hardly daring to breath. It had been bound with silver chains to the wall behind it, its arms further bound together by thick, black leather straps. It appeared to be wearing some king of straight jacket, or black leather jumpsuit.

All in all, Trixie was both fascinated and terrified by the sight before her.

"There you are, Trixie."

She didn't have a moment to react by the time the gunshot rang out. There was an explosion of blood and pain in her right shoulder and she screamed, spinning like a top, blood spurting everywhere. She collapsed to the floor, her hand clamped over the wound in her arm as she looked up at Pocus Hellsing with murder in her gaze. He smiled back in return, the gun's barrel still smoking from the shot. Beside him was an armed escort of around a dozen Hellsing soldiers.

"Looks like I missed," he said, sounding surprisingly calm. "I never was much of a good shot."

He began to walk towards Trixie, who glowered up at him defiantly.

"Are you really so desperate to take control of Hellsing?" she spat.

"All of my life I have played second fiddle to your fool of a father," he replied. "Whilst he took the glory, I worked in the shadows, the true leader of Hellsing. And yet I never asked for a bit of credit, assuming your father would repay my hard work by willing me his title. Alas, he was too slow to his death. I had to encourage him slightly."

"You mean you poisoned him," Trixie spat. "I heard what you said in the library just now."

"Cyanide is a wonderful little thing isn't it?" Pocus chuckled. "And it was so easy to slip into your father's gin. At last, I thought I had achieved my ultimate goal." He stood directly in front of Trixie and his expression hardened. "But then his will named you the head of the family. Something which I knew I could not accept - I would never accept. Your father betrayed me, so now I will take what is rightfully mine."

He pressed the barrel of the gun against Trixie's forehead and she screwed up her eyes in preparation.

"I missed before," he hissed. "I won't miss a second time."

"You won't get a second time."

Trixie's eyes flared open and Pocus staggered back, the gun clattering to the ground at his feet. Trixie lunged for it, ignoring the pain in her arm. She picked up the weapon and pointed it at her uncle. But he wasn't paying attention to her any more. His eyes were wide with terror and locked on something behind Trixie, the same being the case for his turncoat allies. Slowly, Trixie turned her head to see what they were staring at. Her blood ran cold in an instant.

The corpse was standing, no longer a shriveled up husk but a deadly and beautiful figure. His skin was a pale grey and full of life, head no longer bald but sporting gleaming black hair all over his scalp, his eyes lit up like some kind of deep red star and his formerly black fangs were a gleaming white.

Trixie didn't have to be a member of Hellsing to know she looked upon a vampire of terrible power.

"Y-you," Pocus whispered, aghast.

"Hello Pocus," the vampire said. His voice was like many voices layered on top of each other, all the same tone but different volumes and pitches. His long, snakelike tongue slid over red - stained lips, to mop up the blood that stayed there. Trixie's blood, she realized in an instant. The vampire looked to Trixie and bowed his head before turning to Pocus. "You know, I always thought that you smelled like a traitor. I suppose this was the reason you wanted your brother to keep me locked up? So you could steal the Hellsing title from its rightful owner?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Pocus stammered. The vampire chuckled, his arms pulling against the leather that bound them. They stretched and stretched as if they were nothing more than rubber bands. And like rubber bands, the moment the vampire pushed them past their limit, they snapped, releasing his arms.

"It makes little difference if you lie to me or not," the vampire said coolly. "I heard the whole thing just now. Clever, if not despicable. You have killed one master of mine and you planned to kill another. I'm afraid that I must do my duty and kill you now."

"Now wait just a moment!" Pocus cried as the vampire stepped forwards, the silver chains snapping as if they were made of straw.

"Goodbye, Pocus Hellsing," the vampire said, before lunging. Pocus screamed and the guards opened fire, the explosion of gunshots deafening in the small chamber. Trixie covered her ears and screwed up her eyes, trying blot out the noise that consumed her. Something warm and set spattered all over her face and she grimaced at what it might be.

Eventually the sound of gunfire was silenced and Trixie opened her eyes. Her uncle lay dead before her, his ribs littering the ground around him as blood seeped from the hole in his chest. One rib had been pushed down the man's throat. The rest of the men who had followed Pocus lay in similar states of dismemberment and blood smothered the surface of the room. The vampire stood in the heart of the devastation, blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth as he turned to Trixie.

The young woman scrambled to her feet and leveled the gun at the vampire, ignoring the fear in her heart and the blood on her face. The vampire chuckled softly as he stepped to Trixie. Despite her fear, Trixie found she couldn't pull the trigger, even as the vampire took another step towards her. When he was within striking distance he stopped and bowed his head, before lowering himself to one knee.

"I am your humble servant, my master," he said quietly.

Trixie stared at him. This vampire who had so easily killed thirteen men with nothing but tooth and claw, bowed before her? He was hers to command? That didn't make sense. She had never heard of a vampire willingly serving anyone. Her eyes were drawn to the creature's hands. They were encased in a pair of snowy white gloves with strange, occult marking on the back of each - markings of binding and of servitude. Powerful marks that could make even most obscene creatures of Tartarus kneel.

Trixie gulped, and breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever... whatever this beast was, it would serve her and only her. No matter what. She might as well learn his name.

"What do you call yourself?" she asked in a slightly wavering tone.

The vampire looked up at her and smiled. "My former master, your father called me... Alucard."

Author's Note

I will update this story as frequently as an English Dubbed episode of Hellsing Ultimate comes out or as frequently as a TFS Hellsing Abridged Episode does. Very rarely XD

*Yes that a collective noun for horses. (Also PONIES)

Thanks to Der Lampman for proofreading.