The moon glimmered red in the pitch black sky, the only source of light on the bloodied battlefield below. Gunfire rang out in sharp cracks, bright flashes of light surging across in hopes of hitting a soldier on the other side. The cries of men blown through various body parts added to this cacophony; some hoped, if they were shot to kill, it'd be through the head so they wouldn't suffer an agonizing death. Yet, others desperately wished with every fiber of their being that the bullet meant to end their life would merely graze them, or perhaps just lodge itself into somewhere relatively non-life threatening, like their leg or hip. These are the ones that had family to return to, people to take care of; however, some didn't have this that wished for life. They were just not ready to die. They had so much more to live for.
Fortunately for the other side, they no longer had people to want them. They were merely weapons for their deranged general. They were playthings, willing to do anything for their commander; experiments produced in a laboratory by a madman Doctor who wished to be recognized for his genius.
Who were these toys, you may wonder. What people could be simple toys? Who could be willing to die in an instant just to be more powerful?
This is what many wondered. The other side, however, did not.
A young teen, bathed in shadow, bounced from man to man, slaughtering them. He didn't seem to have anything to use as a weapon besides his fists, and he didn't even have any armor to protect himself. Yet bullets aimed his way never hit him, deflected by something that glinted ice blue in the darkness. His hands gripped something as a group of men surrounded him, and he moved his arms swiftly. In an instant, blood sprayed from the attackers, and they all collapsed with their heads sliced cleanly from their bodies. The teen sprang off again in search of more victims.
A long red coat danced in an unknown breeze, the owner standing atop a mound of mangled corpses, daring any and all to take them on. A pair of leathery wings were spread far out in a sign of challenge, and in one of their gloved hands was a formidable looking silver gun. Two bright red eyes stared out over the rapidly emptying battlefield. The figure watched as the young teen cut down another small group of men. Glowing green eyes met red, and then the teen bounded up the miniature hill of deceased men to stand beside the figure.
“Alushy,” the teen began, voice smooth, “we have nearly won.”
A wide grin spread across the one known as Alushy’s face, her sharp teeth glinting. “Yes, indeed, Spike.” Alushy cracked her knuckles as she flexed her hands. “There are very few things to take care of now. The Major’s vampire army is nearly obliterated.”
Spike smiled in satisfaction, one of his naturally born canine teeth poking out over his bottom lip. He played with his deadly filaments idly before speaking, “Shall we?”
Alushy’s grin spread wider.
“Yes.”
There was little more in her life that Rarity did than worry about her future. Between studies, her passion as a dressmaker, and living out her childhood, there wasn't much time to do else. She was the heir of her father’s business, and she had to be smart and prepared for the role. But she wouldn't be the heir for much longer.
“Little Rarity Belle,” came the sinister chuckle, the voice dripping with malicious intent. She heard footsteps under her; currently, the young filly was hiding in the air ducts of what was now her estate. She remained quiet as she gazed through a grate at the hallway below. Three men came into view through the slotted metal.
Rarity bit her lip. She vainly tried to think of what to do in this situation. She couldn't die and let the company be run by an evil bastard—she couldn't die, period. She was only twelve; so young for this responsibility. Even still, that didn't stop her crazy uncle from attempting to end her life.
“Rarity Belle Hellsing,” her uncle crooned. Rarity’s heart pounded rapidly in her chest as he spoke again. “Where are you? The grand successor to the Hellsing organization. I waited—I waited so long. I waited twenty years for that bastard of a father to wither and die, and minutes before he goes, he names you to succeed him as the head of the Hellsing family. Well, I won't accept it! That position is mine, and I won't allow him to betray me in such a way!”
Fearing so intensely for her life, Rarity, as quietly as she could, began to crawl farther through the air ducts. As she did, her mind anxiously sifted through anything her father might've said to help her . . .
The old man lay on his death bed, face sickly pale and chest heaving with the effort to continue breathing. Rarity, sadness crashing down on her, leaned in as Magnum tried to speak.
“Rarity . . . if the time should ever come, and all other hope seems lost . . .” Magnum murmured, voice low and raspy, “if you should ever find your enemies closing in on you, go to the last cell of the deepest dungeon of the estate. There lies one of the Hellsing family’s darkest legacies. It will be the key to your salvation.”
Rarity faded back into the present as she arrived at the exact place her father had spoken of. The door swung open after she unlocked it, and with caution, the young unicorn took a few tentative steps inside. It was pitch black. Dust made the air heavy after years of neglect. Struggling to see, Rarity used a small light spell to illuminate the dungeon, her hands glowing pale blue. A gasp escaped her lips. A corpse, wearing a tight straight jacket that held its arms firmly against its body, sat before her feet. Chains further held it to the wall. It was nearly impossible to tell what gender it was from the level of decomposition.
“No . . . how can this corpse . . . be my salvation?” Rarity asked quietly to herself, mouth open in disbelief. She searched the room for anything she might be missing, slightly sickened at the empty eye sockets of the corpse that seemed to watch her, even though they lacked actual eyes.
Sinister laughter sounded from behind her. Spinning around in horror, Rarity found herself face to face with her psycho relative. He pointed his gun at her from where he stood in the doorway.
“Uncle,” Rarity gasped, sapphire eyes widening in fright at the realization she was about to die. Legs shaking, she backed away slightly. She couldn't go much farther, however, as the corpse sat behind her.
“Something wrong?” her uncle asked with a grin.
“Are you really so desperate to claim the family title that you’d actually be willing to . . .” Rarity’s words trailed off; she was so frightened she could barely speak.
“What an astute observation, Rarity.”
A gunshot rang out, and Rarity screamed as the bullet grazed her arm. She toppled backwards, landing on the floor next to the corpse. Drops of blood spattered onto the floor, some managing to get on the dead body next to her. Rarity’s violet hair fell around her shoulders, unkempt and slightly ragged. She tried to pick herself up; at least her uncle’s bullet had only grazed her. It could've been pure luck, or maybe he wanted to kill her slowly; perhaps it was even because he was simply a terrible shot altogether.
Her uncle took a step forward, his two bodyguards trailing after him. His gun was still aimed at his niece.
Oh so slowly, the corpse began to move. It twitched several times before it escalated into full movements. Rarity flinched, eyes widening even farther as she desperately tried to scoot away.
“Th-the corpse!” one of the bodyguards exclaimed, pointing at the atrocity. The corpse’s eyes began to glow, and its struggles became more pronounced as it yanked against the chains holding it to the wall. It ripped away and managed to stand up, a roar tearing out of its jaws.
Rarity’s mouth fell open as the monster attacked her uncle and his bodyguards.
The monster fell to its knees at Rarity’s feet, its head bowed. Rarity’s breathing was still a little heavier than normal, but at least she was no longer at an increased risk of dying. This creature didn't seem to want to kill her. At this point, she was still trying to tell what gender this creature was—it looked female. Deciding it was indeed a female, Rarity inspected the creature. Her body was still encased in the straight jacket, but the face and facial structures were angular and sharp, her skin was pale, her eyes were a piercing crimson, and her ears were acutely pointed. Her long, ragged pink hair covered one side of her face. Two sharp canine teeth—blood stained—poked out over her bottom lip.
“What's your name?” Rarity asked quietly, stilling her fears.
A grin spreading across her face, the monster throatily replied, “My master, your father, called me . . .
“Alushy.”
“Bastards!”
The frustrated police officer took off his hat briefly, rubbing at his forehead. He was a man in his early forties, his brown hairline barely beginning to recede. He placed his uniform’s hat back on his head, adjusting it quickly, before raising his head again.
“What?” the officer asked, frustrated, “can you repeat that one more time? Rarity Belle Hellsing, is it?”
Rarity leaned back in her chair slightly, sapphire eyes half lidded behind her red-rimmed glasses. In one of her hands was a fancy cigarette holder, a faint trail of smoke leading off the end. She looked rather stunning in her blue suit as she sat there. Rarity took a long drag of her cigarette, exhaling the smoke after a few seconds.
“Very well. I’ll start again,” Rarity resigned, sitting up straight once more. “They’re ghouls, and the village of Dodge Junction has become a den of ghouls. A ghoul is what happens when a deflowered human is bitten by a vampire. They’re very much like zombies under the control of a vampire—which means that there’s a vampire somewhere in Dodge Junction.”
“A vampire? Are you serious? Do you really expect me to believe in this occult nonsense?” the officer retorted sharply.
“Why on earth would a cheap bureaucrat like yourself know anything on the matter? How dare you even question my credentials?” Rarity’s eyes burned behind her glasses, smoke blowing from her nose from her last inhale. The officer looked shocked for a moment. Calming herself, Rarity sank back into her chair, then closed her eyes briefly.
“The Hellsing Organization has been defending Equestria from such monsters for generations,” the magical woman explained. “The Hellsing Organization is a special operations agency charged by Her Majesty with the duty of finding and eradicating all supernatural and satanic threats to the Crown. There's a vampire in Dodge Junction that's controlling the ghouls—a monster from the pits of Tartarus. Send in all the troops you wish, send every last man under your command; they'll end up little more than meat. Or they may suffer a worse fate. When a vampire drinks from a willing virgin, a new vampire is created. Otherwise, your people become food, and then join the vampire's unholy legion of ghouls.”
The officer looked sick, his face paling slightly as he bit his lip in worry. Rarity felt contentment in watching his expression. She smirked, putting out her cigarette and handing the holder off to her spiky green-haired butler, who stood beside her.
“Sir, I’ve completely lost radio contact with Squads One and Two,” a correspondent said, looking over his shoulder from where he sat at a radio station with a number of others at his side.
“Pony feathers! What’s going on? Report. Come in!” the officer demanded, rising from his seat.
“If you are going to stop the ghouls from further multiplying, you’ll need to terminate that vampire at the source. That’s where Hellsing comes in. We’ll take care of your vampire,” Rarity announced. She couldn’t keep the small amount of smugness from her voice. The officer looked back to her.
“That's . . . insane.”
Rarity allowed a small huff of laughter to escape her. “I assure you, gentlemen, that our finest vampire hunter is already en route to Dodge Junction as we speak. This will be settled in a matter of hours.”
“What sort of agent would handle this?”
“When dealing with monsters—vampires especially—I promise there is no greater expert walking this earth.”
Yellow shaded glasses glinted in the darkness. A figure walked through the dry, sand-filled desert, boots nearly silent as they stalked about.
“How beautiful . . . Nights like this make me want to have a bite to drink. Yes . . . I couldn't imagine more, perfect evening,” Alushy purred, a smirk on her face. The bat-like wings folded on her back shifted slightly with a dry rustle. Her long legs carried her quickly across the sand, and her lanky arms swung at her sides with each step.
Pinkie Pie stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet as she frantically shot at the beast walking towards her. He—if it could even be called a he anymore—grinned maniacally, razor sharp teeth showing. The police woman desperately glanced around in terror. When she'd decided to be an officer of the law, this was the last thing she had expected.
“Theres no use running!” the vampire snarled. Pinkie aimed her gun and released another few bullets. The vampire flinched slightly, but the wounds quickly healed, showing no sign he'd ever obtained them. He laughed. “And bullets won't help you either!”
Pinkie Pie turned and prepared to run, but she found herself standing before two zombie-ish men. Their eyes glowed red, skin unnatural colors. One of them had wings, but one of the feathered appendages had already become detached some where along the line, leaving him with a tattered scrap of what used to be.
“Ah!” Pinkie cried, blue eyes widening. “Cinnamon? Starry?” She looked on in horror at only a pair of who her fellow officers used to be. They both released strangled growls, but didn't attack her.
“That’s right! Your little boy friends belong to me now! And soon you'll belong to me, too . . .” the vampire muttered, closing in on her with outstretched hands. Pinkie released another few bullets, but her clip ran dry. She screamed as he grabbed her and yanked her close.
“Out of your loyalty, my servant. I wouldn't want a vampire with free will running around,” the vampire continued. “Pity I can't find a virgin that's as pretty as you . . . I'm going to violate you, I'm going to drain your blood, slowly. Then you will join the rest of my ghouls—my slave for eternity . . .”
I can't believe this is happening . . . Pinkie Pie thought in terror, her heart absolutely racing inside her chest. A blush formed out of embarrassment and anger spread across her face as he ran a hand where it shouldn't go.
Alushy followed the screams. They weren't that hard to hear, considering whoever was screaming had a very high-pitched, girly voice. The vampire continued her walk over the sand covered grounds, traveling around a large rock formation to find herself standing before a large group of ghouls, their eyes glowing red in the background. In the center of their ranks stood a lone, rogue vampire and a very short young woman with blue eyes and dark pink curly hair that fell down to her mid back. The vampire had the woman’s arms pinned behind her back.
“Who the hell are you?!” the vampire barked, red eyes wide and mouth contorted in a snarl.
Alushy’s smile grew, the moonlight reflecting off her yellow tinted glasses. “Your death,” she responded smoothly.
The vampire stared for a brief moment before emitting a cackle. “My death? Oh, really? My Celestia, this is pathetic.” He glanced at the platoon of ghouls that stood around him. “Kill her.”
Instantly, the ghouls pulled out guns and fired at Alushy. The female vampire was jerked around by the force of the bullets penetrating her body. Blood rained down onto the sandy ground around her, and eventually the bullets stopped. The vampire grinned as Alushy’s body fell to the ground, nearly nothing more than a lump of bloody flesh at this point.
“Is that the best you've got?” the vampire asked snidely, thinking he'd won, and then laughed. Pinkie Pie twitched in his grasp, her mouth contorted into a grimace.
Alushy fidgeted, her shattered limbs quivering. Her mangled mouth opened, revealing dagger-like teeth. A low, throaty chuckle rumbled through the air.
“Your agent’s a vampire?!”
Rarity smiled, eyes half lidded in satisfaction at the officer’s disbelief. “Correct. You see, humans make poor vampire killers. They are frail, they are mortal, they are corruptible—body, mind, and soul. The most effective weapon against the vampire is another, more powerful, vampire. The Hellsing organization has such a creature in its ménage. And let me assure you, gentleman, our vampire has power beyond imagination.”
Alushy’s body rose from the sand, her limbs regenerating swiftly. Flesh stitched itself back together, blood flowed upwards into her body, clothes reappeared like nothing had ever happened. The rogue vampire stared in astonishment at her, and Pinkie Pie blinked rapidly.
Alushy smirked, reaching into one of her coat’s breast pockets for a long silver gun. Moonlight reflected off it. Taking a few moments to show it off, she held it up and then took aim at a ghoul. Gunshots rang out, and blood sprayed in large waves as she took out ghoul after ghoul.
“What?!” the rogue vampire snarled, looking around at the carnage, “how is she killing them?! It’s those bullets!”
“The silver cross in Starswirl’s Cathedral was melted down to make these thirteen millimeter exploding shells,” Alushy answered, her voice showing cockiness. She had stopped firing by now—the ghouls were dead, merely bloody pieces scattered across the desert surrounding them. “Nothing I shoot ever gets up again . . .”
“But why?! Tell me! Why fight to save these pathetic humans?!” the vampire asked in frustration. He yanked Pinkie Pie closer to him, making sure her small form hid him. The young woman trembled, closing her eyes in fright. “Don't take another step. The girl's the last survivor. Don’t you want to save her? Be reasonable. I’m not asking for much. Just a bit of help. You can look the other way.”
Alushy simply cocked her head slightly. “Are you a virgin, my dear?”
Pinkie Pie gasped in shock.
“What are you doing?!” the vampire roared.
“I'm asking if you're a virgin!” Alushy repeated.
“Vir . . . I . . .” Pinkie stammered, face red.
You bitch!” the vampire growled.
“Answer me!” Alushy demanded.
“Ye-yes! I am!” Pinkie exclaimed, eyes squeezed shut.
Alushy raised her gun abruptly, shooting Pinkie Pie through her chest. The bullet ripped through her soft flesh into the vampire behind her, effectively killing him as he emitted a strangled last few words of anger.
Pinkie lay on the ground, blood soaking the front of her police uniform. She tried to choke out something, but blood bubbled in her throat and over her lips, leaving a trail of red down the side of her face. In extreme pain, large tears welled in her once bright blue eyes. The bullet had gone through the center of her chest, leaving a gaping hole. Alushy walked over, towering over the fallen woman. The vampire bent down to get closer to her victim.
“I had to shoot through you to pierce his heart. I’m sorry, but you’re dying. And there’s no time left,” Alushy began, voice low. “The choice is yours. What do you want to do?” Pinkie gurgled quietly, confused. What did this creature want with her? Did she want to . . . transform her into a vampire like her?
Should I . . . ? Yes . . . I want to live-! I'm too young to die!
Pinkie struggled to nod her head as tears ran down her face. A trembling hand stretched out in agony, desperately trying to convey to the vampire that she wished to live. Alushy grinned.
“Police girl . . . tonight is truly . . . a beautiful night.”
