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It was autumn in Poland. The dust began to settle in what remained of a ruined fortress. Walter was barely able to bring himself up by his knees, his arms being too tender to rest on shattered concrete. Someplace elsewhere, a war-torn hound was returning to its conniving master.
This day had held blood, and quite a lot of it, Walter thought.
He felt it in the color red building up in the corners of his eyes, the red from bruises that just barely revealed themselves under the thin sleeves of his thin button-up, the desiccated red flakes that he had vomited all over his chest. His bloodied exterior didn’t even account for the aches deep in his strained muscles. There was lingering pain that shot from his neck down his spine that threatened to send him toppling over, but he wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t. He felt that if he dared to tilt downward that all of the fluids in his brain might fall out.
Another pro to keeping his head up was to keep the horror around him in his peripheral vision. He would do anything to avoid gazing upon the viscera of a fallen soldier, or even worse, the remains of the hellish ghouls that were produced in mass by Millenium. He couldn't afford to lose his rations or any more blood from his system just from seeing some blown out brains.
Just don't look down . Walter made it by on that simple principle. It turned out, however, that what stood above him was even worse than what could have been below.
There it was, atop a tilted pillar of debris: the foul monster that disguised itself as a young girl. Alucard tilted his head in an owl-like fashion to meet Walter’s ice-cold gaze from below, his giant crimson eyes unwavering as he looked upon the beaten child. “There you are, little Walter!” Alucard cheered, a wide smile spreading to the corners of his round face. He hopped down from his perch with an elegant swoop, landing at the base of the tower. His angelic descent betrayed everything else about him.
Walter took a step forward, and then another. He could barely hear the crunch of his own shoes against the rock; a pounding sound beat through his ears like his own personal war drum. Alucard noticed his approach and opened his arms theatrically to the boy. “It was about time you showed up–”
Like a feline unsheathing its claws, Walter extended the monofilament wires from his gloves with a single fell movement. A web of glimmering strands soared through the air at his command, their glow barely being visible through the smog of the battlefield. A clear fwip cut through the air as the threads’ sharp ends aimed at the little girl’s face.
“You bastard! You bastard! ” he cried. “You left me to fight that bloody wolf all by myself!”
Alucard’s thin eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, his barbed maw of teeth turning to a pitying frown. He remained silently still as the wires lunged towards him, fiddling with his pockets as a ghoulish figure rose from the rubble to shield him from the barrage. The shade took the blow and dissipated in front of both of them, taking the barb of the wires with it as it sunk back into the dirt. Without his master, Alucard held no restrictions out here. There was no one to stop him from summoning his familiars, no one to tell him to stay at Walter’s side when he needed him, and no one to show him discipline when he made the wrong choice.
The wretched aberration groaned from below their feet. That was one of many, one of an army, Walter thought, but he lacked any rationality to care. He waved his arms furiously, tugging and tossing to send out as much of his dangerous coils as possible. The wires lost their rhythm and flurried about aimlessly. If there was any chance he could get to him…
The wires dissipated, losing their shimmer and falling like paper streamers. Walter wiped the red-tinted mucus from his nose. “How dare you?!” he screamed through a sniveling sob.
“Don’t get pissy, Walter,” the girl spoke with a buoyant shrug, “It was two against one back there, I was only playing fair. Maybe you’re too young to see the larger picture, Walter.”
A jolt of pain shot through the boy’s neck; he feared that he had popped something out of pure fury. “I could’ve died back there!” he screeched, ”And you wouldn’t’ve even cared, would you?!”
“Died? Died , you say?” Alucard snickered with a twisted grin. His snickers turned to laughter, and laughter turned to howls. He keeled over, relishing in his own hysterics. ”Oh, how rich!” he shrieked, “You are a dog of the Hellsings, as I am! You will know nothing of dying for a long time, little one!”
Walter’s lip quivered as he watched the vampire try to catch his breath, watching him hit the ground with white satin gloves. The boy clenched his fists to keep them at his sides. As far as he could see, throwing neither insults nor wire was going to change the devil’s mind.
Once Alucard seemed to have had his fill of laughter, he lifted his hands off of the dirt to readjust his cossack hat. His blood-filled sockets tilted up to scan the butler’s trodden face. The two were at an impasse.
Walter’s deadpan stare met Alucard’s devilish grin. With a bitter sigh, Walter extended his hand. “You’re lucky Arthur won’t let me leave you here,” he spoke with gritted teeth.
The girl bounced up perfectly fine without the help of his aiding arm. “That’s the spirit, little one!” Alucard chirped, his scarf whirling as he bounded forward.
He bounded past him with a jaunty skip, shined dress shoes tapping rhythmically on the floor covered in debris. “Now come, Walter. It’s our turn against the Major, and we have a game to finish.”