The Big Hellsing: Chapter Thirty-Eight

The Death of Bree Tanner: Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Zohall Mercer, Twilight, Hellsing, the Sopranos or resident Evil. If I have misrepresented the medical condition known as depression, please tell me.

Twenty hours prior to the battle

Zohall Mercer looked at himself in the mirror. It was almost like he was putting on a fashion show for himself. Flexing his muscles and posing, the young man was doing his best to build up his ego. He was handsome and sculpted but compared to those supernatural creatures living in Forks he was sadly lacking. Even Alucard's abs and pecs put Zohall to shame.

The young swordsman shook his spiky blonde head. He had serious business to attend to.

Grabbing the phone in the Cullen's house, Zohall gingerly started to dial into the rotary phone. In a few moments, Zohall was calling a number somewhere in New Jersey.

After what felt like an eternity of ringing for the ADHD afflicted man, Zohall finally got an answer. "Hello?" came a gruff New Jersey voice.

"Hi Mr. Soprano! My name is Zohall Mercer. " came Zohall's cheery greeting on the phone.

"Who the fuck is this?" demanded Tony Soprano on the other end of the phone.

Zohall's cheerful disposition halted for a moment, "Uh, I wasn't mentioned?" he said sheepishly.

"You've got three fucking seconds to get off this phone before I find you and crush your skull," Tony warned.

Zohall was visibly shaken by Tony's rage, "Uh, I work for Integra Hellsing?"

"Huh?" said Tony Belligerently, "How do you know Integra? Are you with the Vatican, the Feds?"

"Well you see Mr. Soprano, I work with—

"Shut up" snapped Tony, "What the hell do you want?"

Zohall hesitated for a moment, "Well, I know you're a busy man so I'll just come out and say it; I'm going to need twenty or thirty whores/strippers for the big wedding in—

"Shut the fuck up!" shouted Tony, preventing Zohall from revealing the location of the wedding to anybody with a wiretap. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a waste management consultant. But If I did know about whores, and that's not an admission, I could, maybe, possibly do it for you; just bring over some lady friends."

"Fuck yeah!" cheered Zohall, "Thanks Mr. Soprano."

"Don't mention it," said Tony, "And if you ever call me again on this number I'll break your fucking neck. IF you need something, talk to me face to face or I'll slit your throat."

"Loud and clear," Zohall affirmed as Tony slammed the phone shut on the other end.

With that business cleared up, Zohall realized that his coffee was getting cold. Esme brewed such good coffee and he'd hate to waste it.

Unfortunately, Zohall slipped on the rug in the Cullens house and spilled the coffee all over the floor. "Ah shit!" he cursed and grabbed a paper towel.

As Zohall throws the paper towel over the spilled coffee, the coffee stains form words and the screen fades to black

The Big Hellsing: The Forks Affair

This is what happens when you fuck a Hellsing in the ass.

Now, The Forks Meadow

Albert Wesker stood in the meadow just as the sun was parting through the clouds. Next to him stood the laconic Furio, former mob assassin and currently the most deadly man in the Volutri's organization. He was probably the only creature on earth who could make sparkling look scary.

Surrounding Wesker and Furio were Jasper, Emmett, Edward and Anderson. The Cullens were wounded and mentally fatigued. Emmett now had his first scars while Jasper gathered a few new ones; Edward's scars were entirely mental.

Glaring at Wesker with incandescent rage, Zohall looked nothing like his ordinary self. Covered in mud and blood, wielding his magic sword, the young man looked like a demon raised from the blood of the innocent. He was like the crow, bringer of death and ferryman of souls.

Seras was fittingly feral, hissing at Wesker with fangs drawn. Furio merely glared at her; she'd be the one he killed first if things went bad.

Wesker scanned from behind his dark sunglasses; behind those blackened shades his red slitted eyes focused. "I apologize towards the Cullen coven at the lateness of the official Volturi taskforce for dealing with this unfortunate newborn uprising."

"Bullshit!" shouted the bullheaded Emmett, "You let us risk our fucking lives and do your dirty work. Where's your fucking task force?"

Wesker pointed to Furio, "He is the entire task force."

Tempers were short and nerves were frayed, the Cullen family and the Quileutes were exhausted mentally and physically. Armless, wounded and buck naked, Anderson ground his teeth at the sight of Wesker's smug face.

Edward had dropped to the ground, nude, and legless and missing his genitals. None the less, despite or rather because of his savage state Bell was now cradling him; shielding him as if trying to protect him from Wesker and Furio.

Zooming over the hill, came the rest of the Quileute pack and the remainder of the Cullen family. The wolves seemed to have taken far fewer wounds than the Cullens, with the exception of Jacob.

Carlisle could not speak, for he'd been blown to bits and his jaw and vocal cords were somewhere far away by now. Esme and Alice shielded the fallen family patriarch.

"You planned nothing of the sort," Esme accused Wesker, "You mean for us all to be killed or else for us to clean up the mess before you."

Wesker merely snorted at Esme's harsh words, "You've no proof that we were involved in this." He was a slippery bastard as always.

A whimper from the ground brought Wesker back to the matter at hand. There huddling on the ground like a mouse before a cat was Bree Tanner, someone's daughter, someone's friend, even someone's lover. Now, she was just dead meat. She'd been dead from the moment that Riley turned her. Like falling off a building, she just careened through her second life only to now meet the hard pavement.

Bree writhed on the ground like a cornered animal, occasionally making a growl that sounded more pitiful than threatening. Gripping the earth as if she'd fall off of it, Bree looked up briefly at Bella with her woeful red eyes.

Wracked with the pains of thirst, she growled and pushed her face into the verdant grass. "How do you stand it?" she demanded. "How do you stand being around her?"

Bella's eyes widened as she realized that this unknown vampire was talking about her.

Before anyone could say anything, Wesker kicked Bree in the side like a puppy, "It is because you are weak!"

Bree shrank from Wesker's foot but there was nowhere to hide.

Wesker kicked her again "It is because you are weak that you deserve to die!"

"No!" Bella shouted at Wesker, "don't!"

Wesker sneered at Bella, "Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do. I came to enforce the laws of the Volturi and she is a criminal; justice must be met."

Esme put a hand on Bella's shoulder, pulling her back. "Bella is right," Esme explained calmly, "This girl is innocent, she did not choose this life."

Wesker however would have none of this, "This is not an inquisition; guilt has already been ascertained. What you, all of you are doing is obstructing justice."

"Fuck you Wesker!" Zohall screamed, losing his temper, "You poison everything you touch! You don't even know what the fuck justice is!" That was true, if Wesker spoke ill of Adolf Hitler then Zohall would be inclined to speak kindly of Hitler.

Wesker sniffed a bit and adjusted his sunglasses. All eyes were focused on him; not just his physical being but his history.

Across the Quileute wolf hive mind, thoughts of Wesker and Raccoon City came up. This was the Wesker, the man whose work has wiped out an entire American city and unleashed a devastating biological weapon on the globe.

Collecting himself, Wesker retorted to the circle of vampires, wolves and humans who surrounded him. He looked directly at Zohall, "You were there at Raccoon City?"

Zohall nodded savagely, his hand slowly going for his gun.

Wesker ran a gloves hand through his heavily gelled hair, "Well, the fact that I may have allegedly caused the deaths of all your friends and loves ones is actually," he paused and licked his lips, "a source of great amusement to me."

Zohall tried to lunge at Wesker, but Emmett and Jasper held him back; they had no intention for this thing to boil into something more than it had to be. The Volturi had already passively tried to kill their family; there was no point in provoking them into active murder.

Wesker shook his head at Zohall's lack of control. Never having any friends or loved ones, Wesker was at a total loss of how empathize with Zohall and he certainly wasn't willing to try. He looked at the Cullens and growling Quileute wolves with his most sincere fake sympathy. "Simply stand aside and allow my compatriot to execute this criminal scum. You only need turn your backs and walk away; nothing could be easier."

Esme narrowed her beautiful golden eyes at Wesker. "Turn a blind eye, walk away. People did just that during my first marriage; he was a cunt; he abused me and made me feel like shit. And everyone just walked away." Esme spat on the ground, causing Jasper and Emmett and even Edward to look at their adopted mother in a new light, "People like you are responsible for all the suffering in this world.

Wesker sneered at Esme's sweeping statement regarding his behavior. If only she knew what he really had in mind; he was going to save the world, not without some casualties but he'd save it.

"Why would you want to spare her? For argument's sake, enlighten me," everyone around him was rapidly starting to hate Wesker's arrogant, snooty voice.

Little Alice spoke next, her normally bell like voice sounding unusually dull and strained. "She didn't choose this life," she protested like a witness in court. "Hardly any of us chose this life; it was all Victoria's doing and she's dead."

Anderson spoke next in a growling Scottish broque, "Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday." He grunted and gnashed his teeth, "Wesker, ye best be squarin' up wit God afore I finish ye!" Not that Anderson cared about Bree Tanner, he wanted to kill her; but he wanted to kill Wesker more.

Wesker looked at Anderson as if he respected him less than Edward Cullen. "Will someone get rid of this zealot and his bronze age book?"

"Never mind him," said Esme in a harsh voice, pushing Anderson backwards. Anderson growled but in his injured state he bowed before the MILF vampire. "This is about the girl, she may not be completely innocent but in times like these is it not better to temper justice with mercy?"

Wesker nodded, "Well, I have to admit that you make a compelling argument, almost." He paused to mull over his thoughts, "If I spared this girl," he glared at a petrified Bree Tanner, "would you truly take her in, knowing full well that she would not have shown you the same mercy?"

Esme nodded, "I don't even have to think about it. Sometimes all that anyone really needs is a cuddle."

"Cuddle!" Wesker struggled to supress a shout as he entered a flashback and Seras and Edward were treated to a front row seat into Wesker's tortured psyche.

Flashback

Cuddles=evil!

Wesker stands in the middle of a spinning stage with freaky red lighting shining on him.

Walking towards Wesker is Aro Volturi, wearing a cowboy hat, tight red speedo and leather chaps. His flint like nipples stand out on his pale skin like two light rose nubs.

The camera zooms in on Wesker as Aro gets down and starts gobbling on Wesker-sausage.

Edward cringed and hugged Bella tighter, hoping desperately that God would strike him down before seeing something like that gain.

Seras felt a little different, "oh my," she gasped, "That' hot."

"What did you see?" Emmett asked while Rosalie held him like a baby.

"She saw nothing!" Wesker snapped and tried to adjust his coat as he calmed himself down internally and reigned in his thoughts from both Edward and Seras.

Wesker turned back to Esme, who was his opposite number in the group. The wolves were glancing back and forwards at each other over Wesker's little freak-out and wondering just what the hell was it that Seras saw?

"Mrs. Cullen," he began, "You would spare this girl even though she is guilty of attempting to exterminate not only your family but virtually any human presence that she comes across; are you only parroting your husband's misguided ideals."

Esme shook her head as she looked into the shadowy man's eyes, "No, it is not just Carlisle that I'm doing this. I know when someone needs help and this girl needs it; I know what it's like to be helpless and to believe that you are powerless, something I wonder if you've ever experienced."

Everyone watched Esme with admiration as she stood for her beliefs, even crazy Anderson. "This girl is powerless now," Esme gazed down at the huddled Bree, "She is still dangerous but what she needs is mercy. She's surrendered to us."

Bree's eyes snapped as she was addressed, "You girl," said the golden eyed vampire with the caramel colored hair. Bree cowered in fear, her perfect memory playing back images of that same sweet, kind vampire ripping off the heads and limbs of her fellow newborns. Every instinct in Bree's body told her to either flee or fight; to not trust this sweet talking serpent of a woman.

Bree tried to speak in reply but her panic caused her vocal cords to tighten up and all she could produce was a pitiful growl.

"If we took you in," Esme started, "if we accepted you into my family, would you swear never to take human blood again?"

Bree blinked three times before clenching her throat, the scent of the human girl's nearby blood was making her fucking crazy. Why was she here anyhow? What was so special about one little girl that so many had to die?

"It hurts," Bree croaked, she sniffed as if she were about to cry but she knew for some time now that crying was forever beyond her in this shitty second life. "How do you stand it?" she looked directly at Bella with a look that fairly broke the young human girl's heart.

And Bella had to wonder why all of this happened? There was really nothing that made her worth the dozens of lives that had been ended and it made her pale cheeks burn bright with shame.

Wesker stood next to Esme like the devil standing next to God, a sneer plastered across his face; holding nothing but contempt for Bree.

Esme looked at Bree like she was her own daughter, but refrained from touching the girl for fear of provoking the newborn into attacking and ruin her chance of salvation.

Jasper fought to supress a growl, only Alice holding his hand stayed him from killing Bree. Unlike Esme, he just couldn't forgive Bree for what had happened. He wanted them all dead and he just could not find it in him to forgive.

Edward was reading Alice's mind, he knew that Bree was going to be spared by Wesker, and everything would be alright. Bree would even join the family

Esme asked the girl, "What is your name?"

"Bree," came the choked answer as her fingers tore apart the grass, panic and thirst nearly overwhelming her.

Esme walked closer to Bree. All eyes followed her with shock; Wesker raised an eyebrow of surprise.

Gently, like touching the flank of a raging bull, Esme put a hand on Bree's back. Bree's head snapped and she growled at Esme; nothing but pure aggression.

Esme didn't flinch, she showed no fear or hesitation. She merely stared into Bree's nearly glowing red eyes. Like a slow leak, Bree's aggression gradually deflated and she suddenly realized how silly she looked, threatening this unthreatening woman.

"Bree," came that musical, gentle voice.

Bree looked away, looking at the ground. She was keenly aware of all the eyes that were on her now. Never before had she felt more alone and naked. The man who wasn't a man glared at her behind the safety of his sunglasses and expensive clothing; like a snake ready to strike.

The one cruel looking vampire in a black robe just looked like he wanted nothing else except to cleanse the universe of her existence.

The Scottish giant covered in wounds with no arms looked at her with hate, but unlike the not-man in the sunglasses it was honest hate, pure and clean. Next to him was the regenerating remains of a vampire with straw colored hair, like a shattered marble statue.

The blonde one with scars gave her the glare of death, his look made her feel especially ashamed of herself. Doubts began to flood her mind and internally she flagellated herself for not running away sooner or not being able to pull of the plan she and diego came up with. Looking back on her first and second life, Bree Tanner felt nothing except an absolout, indeniable sense of shame; she'd always been the one to blame.

She looked at Esme's hand and then slowly, reluctantly made eye contact with the vampire matriarch. "I'm afraid you'll be just like them," she squeaked in a voice too low for the human ear.

Esme nodded sympathetically, aware that Wesker's presence could jepordize everything with the unstable newborn; there was no telling when or if she'd explode into a volent fit. "That's natural, dear; hang onto that feeling. I'd like to prove that we are different instead of offering empty words."

Bree bit her lip in indecision. She desperately wanted to take Esme's offer, but thus far Esme had done nothing to deserve trust; all she had was a promise and promises were cheap.

"Well," after Esme's ringing bell voice, Wesker's nasal tone was like a punch in the ear. Bree growled at Wesker and Esme immediately withdrew her hand of the young girl, fearing that close proximity would provoke an attack.

"Well, well," Wesker drawled, "Mrs. Cullen, I do have to hand it to you; your capacity for manipulation is astonishing."

With casual ease, Wesker reached up and pulled off his sunglasses; revealing his red eyes with cat like slit pupils. "Were I a softer man, I would be moved by such a display of manipulation."

Bree growled louder and louder at Wesker, bunching her legs up to pounce at the foreign creature that wore the skin of a human. Furio shifted one fraction of an inch in his posture but Wesker did not move at all. He assumed the posture of an arrogant teacher talking down to an underachieving student. "You ought to consider yourself lucky, girl, that these people have shown an interest in you. What you've done to warrant such attention is a mystery."

Then Wesker made his decision, "Kill her!" he snapped at Furio with pure hate in his voice.

Furio needed no more encouragement than the trigger of a gun, like a humanoid laser beam, he struck Bree at impossible speed. In one smooth motion he ran behind the confused newborn and drove a thumb through the base of her skull and into her midbrain, cutting off all conscious movement.

Screaming in frustration and horror at the man's callousness, Esme ran up to Wesker and grabbed him the collar. Lifting up the man in the air, Esme had transformed from loving mother to raging, frothing animal. Her teeth were bared and her lovely eyes bulged out to a degree that Seras had only before seen in Enrico Maxwell.

Seeing that Esme wasn't thinking with her rational mind, Seras leapt forward and put her arms around Esme. Meanwhile, Wesker made no move to free himself from Esme's grasp, if anything he was sneering at her as if tempting her to try something; I dare ya!

"No!" Seras shouted, holding the Cullen matriarch as Integra once held her during the Valentine brothers attach, "Don't risk it," she glanced up at Wesker's contemptuous face, "Too many have died because of him; don't throw it all away."

And so slowly, painfully, Esme gradually lowered Wesker to the ground. The bio terrorist and killer sniffed and straightened out his coat jacket. "You make a compelling case," came his arrogant voice, "however there is no reason for me to spare this criminal." He thrust an arm at Bree, who was a prisoner in her own body as her legs and arms thrashed mindlessly.

Struggle as she did though, she was no match for Furio.

Wesker took a deep breath, "This girl has been found guilty, and as a servant of the Volturi it is my sacred duty to punish those who have transgressed the laws." He turned to his assistant Furio and said with a hint of satisfaction, "Let the execution begin." A smile started to tug at Wesker's lips.

Legless and nude, Edward tried to hug Bella, "Look away, darling," he tried to protect what was left of her innocence.

Yes, Edward had seen Alice's vision of Bree being spared, but then Wesker changed his mind . . . there was nothing more to it. Wesker will it, it happened.

"No!" shouted Wesker, causing Bella's eyes to snap open and turn towards the execution of Bree Tanner.

Bella looked upon Wesker with fear and alarm; from his glasses to coat to his hair, he dressed the part: a stone cold killer.

"You girl," Wesker purred seductively, "I want you to witness the execution of the guilty." He sucked in his breath as if the idea of execution was making his aroused, "I want you to witness the true power of the vampire species in all its beauty." His palms grew sweaty with anticipation

Bella was horrified as Bree Tanner was ripped apart. The head was torn off first, then the trunk was dismembered; arms were torn off first and then the legs. A metallic screech cut through the air, causing the wolves to wince in pain.

Bella continued to watch Bree, like a train wreck it was just too horrible to look away from. Her brown eyes were wide open and her flushed cheeks had lost all color. Her chestnut hair hung over her face like a funeral vail; an unwashed, dull funeral vale. The girl was nearly bleached of color; she felt like she was going to vomit.

Meanwhile, Edward, his legs starting to grow back, focused his attention upon Wesker. He took note of the man's barely supressed smile, his undisguised glee at the murder of a girl who couldn't be older than his Bella. Wesker's thoughts screamed volumes.

"Make her suffer!" he howled in his mind like a blood crazed boxing fan. Wesker was enjoying this too much to hide it from Edward although his sense of self control would try to downplay his enjoyment for others. But he could not disguise the racing of his pulse, the smell of exhiliaration that came off of him and the dilation of his pupils.

To Wesker, there could be no more beautiful work of art than one Unset killing another. The metallic shriek of limbs being torn was like an orchestra. The sparkling skin in sun was like a delightful crystal set being smashed. The looks of fear as the severed head lolled about were like fine cinema and the aroma of burnt flesh was the best perfume.

Soon, there was nothing to mark the passing of Bree Tanner except ashes and purple smoke. The deed was done. Even Anderson had suddenly lost the craving for a vampire's death. Never before had the death of a vampire seemed so . . . pointless.

Flexing his shoulders, Wesker once more made himself an unreadable wall behind his sunglasses. Nobody needed to know what he was thinking; he had nothing to prove.

Turning to the Wolves, Seras and Zohall, the Cullens and finally Bella Swan, he announced, "Law and order has prevailed. You may all sleep soundly tonight and without fear" he came across like a two bit, low rent preacher.

Pointing a gloved hand at the traumatized Bella, he informed her, "I shall be at your wedding," He then added, "You can't have a wedding without bagpipes."

Wesker turned and started to walk away without further word. Furio followed him like the grim angel of death.

Everyone stood still, stunned as if the TV had been unplugged in the middle of the show. Could this be it? Had they defended their homes and families only to fall prey to the scheming Machiavellian designs of some ancient, greedy vampires? It very well looked that way; yet none present had any idea how deep the conspiracies went or how much they'd all suffer very soon.

Stepping ahead of the mutated human, Furio jumped onto a pink bicycle with a yellow basket on the front. Kicking up the bike stand, he waited until Wesker was firmly seated in the basket. Then they took off like a shot, Furio's cloak and Wesker's jacket flying in the wind.

Everyone watched as Furio peddled the pink bicycle into the forest, only for a branch to whip by and hit Wesker in the face. "MY GLASSES!" Wesker shouted. "NOOOOO!"

Meanwhile, Northern British Columbia

Freaky Fred's real name was Fred Flanders. Back in his first life, friends used to call him Ned after the character on the Simpsons. Then at some point, depression set in for Fred and things went downhill. It wasn't like he wasn't trying to be happy, he couldn't be happy; biologically impossible.

So after a while, he stopped taking his meds and one by one friends and acquaintances left him to his own destructive path. Family really didn't pay too much attention; they had bigger problems than a son who was self-destructing.

Fred became a recluse, shunning all human contact, giving up on hygene and other basic human tasks that we all need to function as a society.

Fred didn't really remember how he'd been turned, only that when he became a vampire his depression manifested as a power. It caused people to become physically ill, which was fine with him as the company of others was not only unsatisfying but among the volatile newborns it could be dangerous.

Fred stood under the shade of a large pine tree, high in the mountains, far from any human contact. Fred had devoured a deer in his hunger on the way here but the feeling of being nourished did little to pick him up.

He'd gone and fucked up. The girl Bree had been depending on him and he'd failed. That feeling of guilt was worse than any depression he'd ever had.

There was just something about Bree. Maybe it was a latent power and maybe it was just her personality, but she could reach him in a way that others couldn't. With her, he could actually be happy.

He could never have been romantically involved with her. She was barely sixteen and he was almost thirty; it made him feel uncomfortable. Fred had always been a gentleman, at least before depression crushed all happiness in his life.

And so Fred waited under the shade of the pine tree; waiting for either Bree and Diego to turn up or for him to turn into true stone and crumble into dust . . . whichever came first.

Simply put, Fred felt like he'd never be happy again and this was all there was. His power would ensure that he'd be left alone forever.

But death by loneliness wasn't what fate had planned for Fred. The cold winds whipped at him and stirred his light blonde hair. He didn't feel the wind and apparently neither did his newest intruder.

"Vhy so sad?" came the voice of a young boy, "You should just . . . turn that frown, upside down!"

Fred looked up, confused out of his mind for the first time in who knew how long. Accepting that Vampires were real and becoming one was one thing

Standing before Fred was a young boy in Hitler youth uniform with cat ears. Fred's depression lifted just a little bit, enough to ask himself "what the fuck?" in his mind.

The cat boy took a step forward, seemingly unaffected by Fred's power. "Sie sind the last man standing, did you know that?" He grinned a sly grin.

As he walked up to Fred, he patted the vampire on the shoulder. A low growl came from Fred, he never liked people touching him.

"Vell," Schrodinger praised, "You are a big boy, nice und strong! The perfect Aryan specimen."

Getting right into Fred's face, Schrodinger began to examine him with a very specific purpose in mind.

Acting on instinct, Fred drove a fist right through the cat boy's head, ripping his body apart in an animal frenzy. Strangely however the cat boy's blood had no scent.

Fred sat back down under the pine tree. He ddin't mean for the cat boy to die, but maybe if he stayed up here long enough he couldn't hurt anybody ever again.

But the cat came back, the very next second.

This time Fred did not just passively sit and let the cat approach. He stood up in defensive stance and bared his teeth.

"Vell," remarked Schrodinger, "You don't have the blue eyes, but red ist better. It ist the color of power und blood."

Undaunted by Fred's aggression, Schrodinger examined him. "I think you have potential. Vhat's your name?"

"Fred," he replied noncommittally.

Schrodinger bounced on his heels, like one of the little folk from mythology; the ones who spoke in riddles and stole children. "Vell, Frederick, I am about to deliver you a chance at redemption."

"Redemption," the Unstet mumbled, his aggressive manner already starting to go away.

"Ja! Ja!" Schrodinger nodded his head up and down rapidly, "A chance to take back your honor as a man!"

Anger sparked back into Fred's eyes, shaking away his apathy, "Are you the same at the big Nazi giant who worked for Victoria?"

Schrodinger could tell that Fred did not have fond memories of the Captain so he took a different route. "Vell, maybe if you joined my organization, you could make it up to your little girl, Bree . . . or vhatever her name vas."

Fred growled threateningly at Schrodinger, causing snow to fall off the pine tree he was standing under. The slow covered Fred but it only had the effect of making him look like some kind of abominable snowman.

"Hear me out," said Schrodinger, holding up his hand in peace, "Vas it myself und my own who killed her?'

"No," ground out Fred.

Schrodinger nodded, "Und vas it my organization who killed all the ozzer newborns?"

Fred already knew the answer.

Schrodinger had the lad, he only needed to finish up, "Do you haff any prospects? Do you haff any reason to get up in the morning?"

"I don't sleep," Fred admitted.

"Vhatever," Schrodinger huffed, "Mein point is, this Bree vould vant you to go on und live. Und maybe I'm crazy, but perhaps you could become an officer in our army."

Fred's eyes narrowed at the surreal nature of it all. Only hours ago he'd been cannon fodder for an army of vampires and now some kind of boy neko was trying to give him the "be all that you can be" pitch.

Schrodinger put a hand out and leaned on Fred's pine tree. "You don't haff to say yes, but if you do there vill be a uniform in it for you, respect, discipline und authority."

Ignoring Fred's growling, Schrodinger knocked gently on Fred's skull like a door, "Fred, ve vant to help you." And he stepped back, "Und if you don't like our little family, you can just . . . walk away."

He smirked at Fred, "Think about it." He started to walk away.

As he walked away from the belligerent Unstet, Schrodinger wore a snowing smile. Like a con artist, he'd identified the mark and had gone for the greatest vulnerability.

"Wait," said Fred.

And that wraps up this exciting chapter of the Big Hellsing :D Next time we arrive at Bella's wedding and in a secret, private ceremony Alexander Anderson marries Bella and Edward :D The next chapter will have thrills, chills, underage drinking and more ;)

And in the meanwhile, Millennium is on the move :D

thanks for reading and reviewing, you are all wonderful :D If you're looking for a good time I suggest trying Baxyratty's collab with me called Warning: Hitchhikers may be Escaping Nazis.

Ta

Master of the Boot