Chapter Text
It has been exhausting and surviving so far cannot be described as a piece of cake. The spoken words and the deeds performed are grayish and yet they can no longer be changed. A little more than 20 years have passed since her actual organization sank like a ship and instead of sinking with the ship, she had thought to run away and save her own skin. She knows that the Major is definitely no longer there, as are many others. Van Winkle, Alhambra, the Valentine brothers, Zorin... they all failed and were killed. Also Hans or the Doc- Is she the only survivor? The only question is whether what she has done is considered smart or pathetic. For years now, Quinn has been hiding in various countries, doing some work there covertly that you just have to do and then retreat again to remain undetected. Especially as far as this old sack of vampire is concerned, she can be happy if he doesn’t catch her, because then it’s over for her. The woman gets up from her chair in the small pub, pays for her drinks and puts the hood over her head so that you can't see anything when she goes outside into the alley. The white eyes, which is only delimited from the rest of the eye only by a grayish circle around the iris, look along both sides of the alley before Quinn turns away in one direction and sets off to make one of the last orders in the surprisingly beautiful country here. Scotland, who would have thought that it could really be so cozy here? Only Ireland surpasses it and still sits at the number one of her favourite countries. Pictures of her old comrades abruptly come to her mind, Quinn stops and puts her head in her neck. In the white eyes, during the day useless because they are too sensitive, the full moon is reflected, it was the favorite time of her big brother. No, they weren’t connected by the blood flowing in their veins. They were connected by the blood they shed, she felt it when Hans died and even if it was a war - she will never really be able to forgive this blond-haired bitch for what she had to do and what Hans had even asked her to do in the end. Her shadows told her, they told her all the news about the last big fight. For a moment you can see a tear glittering along her cheek until Quinn wipes it away and sets out again to complete her job. She can grieve again when she has time, now she has to take a life to get money and survive by herself. She briefly returns to her actual sleeping place to look for her glasses. After the murder she will disappear from this country, so she should pack everything she needs and if she should be out during the day, then she needs it. She got the idea from Alucard, only she doesn't have orange lenses like him, but they’re normal sunglasses that won’t easily fall of because of the band she attached to it and with too much movement the danger is there. She never has more with her, the rest is usually stored in a small pocket dimension. The money she always wants to have in cash, always a little bit to eat and drink, little things. What she always wears, however, is a chain with a silver pendant to unfold. She was surprised when Hans gave her this for her 150th birthday, because it’s real silver and he burned himself several times on this silver when he had put a small part of his fur in there. But that's really the only thing that she would protect with her life. The whole thing has become a bit dull due to the whole wearing and the constant touching, but she is afraid that if she cleans it, something will happen to it and she does not want to lose the only thing she still has from her brother. The next moment she simply dissolves and merges with the night. She has a similar ability to Alucard as far as the shadow is concerned, but she can also use it directly for battle, but she only did the great fine work when she fled and millenium shattered like a mirror you throw on the ground. Only then had she learned how to control the shadows and use them for herself and what other benefits she could derive from them. If only she had been able to do it earlier, she could at least have saved Hans! Millenium would have been smashed one way or another, but she could’ve saved him and- Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore.
Protected from the moonlight, Quinn sits in the shade of a chimney on the roof and looks down through the window at the sleeping woman. She doesn't know why she should die, she only knows THAT and tonight. She pushes the hood even deeper into her face before she looks down the streets and has to wait. Drunks from the nearest pub, not a block from here, stagger along the sidewalk and still seem to have the fun of a lifetime. How inexperienced people are, how little attention they pay to the environment and how safe they feel is on the one hand more than dangerous, but on the other hand understandable when you consider that they have no idea what lurks in the shadows, or what the shadows ARE. As she looks down the street to see if more people are coming towards her, she presses her lips together and curses inwardly. How does HE get here?! She sees the tall man whose glasses flash in the glow of the next streetlamp as he walks on and is probably unaware of her presence. With a shallow breath, she watches Father Anderson, who barely escaped Alucard's attack until he disappears into a house. In that house in which the woman lies and sleeps. Quinn retreats a little to be on the safe side and can watch as the door opens and the Paladin looks into the room. Maybe that's the reason why this woman has to die? But she really doesn't care. She waits until he has made sure that everything is okay and leaves again, before she lets a raven rise from her shadow, which first flutters extensively with its wings before it takes itself into the air and squeezes through the smallest gap in the window. Only then does a black smoke spread briefly before she appears besides the raven and pulls a knife. The bird flies back to the roof at opposite side and waits while Quinn stands next to the bed and acts quickly. A hand on her mouth puts her in control of the head, which she immediately stretches back and cuts her throat. No sound comes over the woman's lips and only a strange bubbling can be heard, while Quinn holds the woman down until she has lost consciousness. Only then does she wipe off the blood of the blade on the bed sheet and disappear again in the same way that she broke in. She may not be able to use teleportation or float directly with the shadow in the air, but once she uses part of her own shadow, she can return to that part no matter where it is. So somehow you can see it as teleportation, but very limited and only possible with her own shadow. Of course, if she doesn't have her own shadow, that's not possible and she has to come up with something else. Quinn doesn't even give the dying woman one last look before she flees over the rooftops and returns to her client, who is already waiting for her and hands her the money. "To be honest, I still have an assignment," he says, but she shakes her head. "I'm leaving, the pavement is too hot for me here. Maybe we'll see each other again someday?" She smiles at him as the bright lamps burn in her eyes. "But let's see how long I live." Only then does she take his life and stand above the corpse, looking down on him. It's enough if she murders, it really doesn't have to be that someone like him hires more people. Because if he has more orders, then he will certainly get the people he needs to do all this. You should never chop off the head of a snake, in the worst case new ones grow back and you will be hunted. No, you have to take care of the root and only then can the leaves rot. Is that her goal? Certainly not, but it is good to have done something positive in life, even if it will never compensate for what she has done. Quinn takes the time to clean up the house before she goes to the next train station to leave the country. She will have to travel around for a few days until her tracks have somehow blurred to be safe enough and to be able to continue. Sitting on the train, she strokes the necklace, is that really her life? Was it really worth running away and not going for it? Should she have done things differently and sunk with the ship? Lately, these doubts keep coming to her and she doesn't know what to make of it.
The next morning, Alexander gets up shortly before sunrise and goes to the bathroom before going downstairs to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for himself and Helena. She should actually get up soon, then he can finally hand her over to the local organization for protection. Helena needs to be protected, she has information that is of the utmost importance about the current situation. Everywhere the supernatural beings disappear! On the one hand, this is really good, because then he knows that the Lord must be satisfied with them, on the other hand, it is funny, because there is no concrete indication why. But thanks to Helena, of whom Hellsing also knows, the mystery should soon be solved. When the woman is still not downstairs after an hour and most of the breakfast has become cold, the Father decides to take a look. Maybe she overheard her alarm clock? After all, to his knowledge, she set the alarm so she wouldn’t be too late. The lady is kind of heart and wants to help where possible, one reason why she has been involved by Alexander in his prayers. Halfway up the stairs, however, he hears the alarm clock shrill and frowns, normally you would have to be awake now. For a moment he stops, goose bumps spread, followed by a very uneasy feeling in his stomach. "Helena!" Calling for her, he almost stumbles up the stairs and tears open the door. His heart sinks as he sees her eyes wide open, his mouth wide open in shock. The dried blood and the gaping cut on her throat. All the bedding is thoroughly bled, but no traces of the one that attacked. The window is still closed and you can only open it from the inside, the stairs would creak if even a small weight comes on one of the steps of the old house. How could she be killed? To at least spare his ears, he turns off the alarm clock and puts a hand on his mouth. By God, who would be able to silently break in here, kill her while sleeping in the next room and then disappear just as silently?! His gaze falls on something on the bed sheet and without touching anything he tries to look at it more closely. As if something had been wiped off. Did the murderer really still have the mockery left to wipe the knife blade in peace? The Father closes his eyes and prays for a moment before taking out his own cell phone, closing the curtains and leaving the room to leave everything as he found it. Choosing the contact is not easy and when it is lifted off, his mood darkens even more. "Father Anderson? How-” "We have a problem, Archbishop Maxwell." He is surprised and becomes more serious than before, should that still be possible. Alexander Anderson never actually interrupts him, so something really big must have happened. "Helena was murdered while I was sleeping in the next room. Smooth cut through the throat. She must have been awake, her eyes are wide open and it looks as if she wanted to fight back. The blood is clotted, it must have been a little longer ago. When I checked at night, everything was in perfect order! But when I waited for her this morning and she didn't show up- I found her in bed. No one can have been in the house, the stairs are noticeable and the window was locked from the inside and even this damn bloodsucker knows how important it is for all of us!" Alexander's voice becomes a little quieter. "For once, I attribute enough intelligence to him for that." The archbishop doesn’t know what to say. He has entrusted this important task to his best and most trustworthy man, how can it be that Helena is still killed and then as if it had been a ghost? He suppresses the almost irrepressible urge to just blankly yell at him for it, because the Father has done everything in his power to ensure that she does not die. "I will prepare everything for a thorough investigation. Stay there until our people arrive and then return immediately, I will also have to arrange an appointment for a meeting with Hellsing." He rubs the bridge of his nose and looks at the pile of papers out of the corner of his eye, which he actually wanted to take care of. He can forget that now, hopefully there is nothing too important in it.