Lullaby

Note: Okay, the basis of this fic, to interpret a scene from both the Hellsing mangas and OVA into words. No original material here, just my own word interpretation and insights into characters. And I don't have the computer skills to make an AMV so, oh well, this is will have to satisfy my creative urge. Every little thing may not match exactly, I was taking material from the manga and both the dubbed and subtitled versions of the anime, but it's the same idea. Rest assured I researched this scene exhaustively!! I hope I have done Rip justice…I couldn't have dared to dream of taking a stand against Alucard. The lyrics that technically make this a song fic are from The Cure's, Lullaby.

As she stood haloed against the fireballs that hung brilliantly over the ocean, and cast a violent orange light across the deck of the ship, Rip Van Winkle could not help but to sing. The moon hung full, golden and beautiful within the star speckled sky, and the enemy was useless against the might of her musket, indeed it was the perfect night for song.

Mein Sohn,

Nur Mut!

Werr Gott vertraut, baut gut!

Only burning wrecked remained after her "magic bullets" pierced the enemies planes again, and again. In an lost sort of way the flames drifted down into the ocean. Beneath the dying halo of firelight, Rip Van Winkle began to dance, swinging and twirling her immense musket about in a skillful manner. Her voice drifted up almost rapturously into the darkness, it was quite a gorgeous, girlish sort of voice that sounded quite odd coming from the mouth of the vampiress. At first glance it was difficult to decide if she was a woman, her features were characteristic of both sexes, and she wore a black suit more fitting of a man that easily concealed the curve of her breast, but that voice was quite unmistakable.

Jetzr auf!

In Bergen und Kluften

Tobt morgen der freudige Krieg!

Das Wild in Fluren un Triften

Der Aar in Wolken und Luften

Ist unser, und unser der Sieg!

Und unser der Sieg! Und unser der Sieg!

A sudden gasp from the raven haired vampire cut her triumphant song short. Something terrible had assaulted her finely tuned senses…no that wasn't right. It had gripped them, and invaded them. It was as if the most abhorrent demon had clawed its way out of the pits of hells, and stolen away all the song, all the joy that had flooded the Huntress' heart. She fell to her knees within the middle of her bloody swastika, and craned her head up into the sky.

"Vhat…Vhats this! Vhat ist happening?" She cried up into the starlight. The oppressive blackness was racing closer at an impossible speed. "It's him! Oh no…." already Rip's voice was quivering on the edge of utmost defeat. "OH GOD!"

And, within that blindness of fear, a strange sort of tune began to play within Rip Van Winkle's mind. It was a far cry from the victorious words of Der Freischutz. It was a far more contemporary song, one Rip had heard once or twice before and never much cared for. Yet it's lyrics reverberated through her mind all the same.

On candy stripe legs, the spiderman comes,

Softly through the shadows of the evening sun,

Stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead….

"IT'S HIM!" she cried vainly to her comrades. "It's him, it's the madness! I hear him, he has come for me! The harbinger of madness" The whole of her form was trembling as she loaded the musket and thrust the immense gun up into the sky. Her hands refused to remain still and she spoke in a delirium of horror " He holds in his hands the stench of death, as he comes vor me atop his black iron stag!"

It was as if the blackness that had crippled her resolve was indeed speaking to her, whispering her name, tearing its steely claws deeper and deeper into her soul, beckoning to her. And strangely, it seemed as that the terrible voice was singing as well.

…Looking for the victim, shivering in bed.

Searching out fear in the gathering gloom.

Rip could now hear the scream of the approaching engines, and within the stupor that invaded her she could see him. Zamiel…no…Alucard. The No Life King. A eye burned crimson within the darkness of the cockpit, the other was shrouded by hair as black as obsidian. And within that blazing eye swirled an all consuming insanity unlike any Rip Van Winkle had ever dared to dream. The sleek, sophisticated SR-71 Blackbird was plunging downward at sharp right angle, the No Life King meant to nose dive directly onto the deck of the HMS Eagle. Alucard had pushed the engines into full throttle, and as he tore downward gravity whipped back his wild hair, fully exposing his pallid, yet elegant face. He was grinning wide enough to expose each of his jagged, dagger like fangs, both eyes burned somehow brighter.

The ships guns had began to fire, even though it was a desperate ploy. Rip however sighed deeply, and lowered her gun, and then laid down on her back, against the solid iron of the ship's deck and within the center of the blood drawn swastika. She spoke again, this time quietly as though seeking to calm her wild fear. "As a Hunter, what ist there to fear? Does fear exist vithin the heart of a Hunter? But those who test God do so in sin. I appear vithin the depths of the night. I give heed to no fears, even ven the evergreen oak ist shaken by the storm. Even ven the birds cry out!" Her words helped her to seek the calm center she needed. She had to face him. For Millennium, for the Fuhrer. For herself! Calm again presided over her pallid face as she watched the crimson point of light drawing near.

She raised her musket again, still laying on her back and used her long slender legs to help keep it in place. Her features were quite unsightly as she smiled, her teeth were every bit as cruel as Alucard's as they gleamed within the moonlight before the musket roared. The bullet that streaked forth from her gun raced wildly though the night, zig-zagging across the sky in a trail of silvery blue fire, and slamming again, and again into the hulk of the Blackbird. Fire spewed from it's form. For a moment a shout of triumph poured from the ships crew, and again the moon gleamed off Rip's pointed teeth as she smiled wider, her round glasses glittering in the flame's light.

The Blackbird began to spiral elegantly downward, a phoenix plunging down in flames, but again Rip seemed to see within the dances of flames, to see the terrible image of Alucard "Rip…" whispered the very image of seductive insanity. " I am coming for you!"

The Huntress' face again fell into the very mask of fear, "He…he's calling for me!"

As plane descended it seemed as if it's form had strangely enough began to warp, the smoke that curled for it's form seemed far to solid, to move to it's own accord and become thorns of darkness. Or were they claws?

"I hear a voice…he says he's coming for me!" Rip's plaintive cry pierced the darkness, than was quickly drowned by the scream of the planes engines. The writhing shadows of the plane seemed to burst outward, indeed they were now a mass of black claws that stretched forth into the fiery haze of the night. Malicious laughter tore through the air, rivaling even the dying whine of the Blackbird.

Within Rip's mind Alucard appeared to have stood within the cockpit, his growling voice rankled through her psyche, "Control Art Restriction System, 3, 2, 1, RELEASED!!"

The very law of physics, of sanity itself warped beneath Alucard's might. The darkness seemed to converge about him, form twisted ropes of clawed shadows that then opened into eyes. Hundreds of them…thousands…the same terrible blood red eyes that the monster himself possessed. Alucard's contorted form was bolting downward…it appeared as if the demon himself had converged with the plane and become the impending doom. "Soon the light of day will be lost, fate had brought you to this!"

There was no trace of the Huntress, of the eccentric Nazi vampiress left within First Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle. There was only an eternally young and frightened woman that stared at the sky with her sapphire eyes opened wide, and fanged mouth gasping. "My God…fill me with the Hunter's spirit, for my heart will not cease to tremble!" She no longer knew what God, or what higher power she prayed to. The entirety of her life had been swept from her eyes and replaced only with this primal and pleading fear.

Alucard loomed, grinning above the war ship. A hundred more horrendous eyes snapped open with a collective snarl. A faint whisper of song reach Rip's ears.

And, suddenly!

A movement in the corner of the room.

A thunderous explosion rent the otherwise still night as the plane and it's ungodly passenger slammed into the HMS Eagle. Insantously the ship became engulfed in flame, and the silence of the night died as it filled with the screams of the burning undead.

Rip however had remained unscathed from the fire, yet she stood in the maelstrom paralyzed with fear. Vainly she clutched her gun tightly to her form, a small stalwart of strength, but there was no trace of resolve in her now suddenly girlish features, features that moments ago had appeared so horrendous.

From the glow of the flames rose an immense black silhouette, its wild hair streamed out behind it, and the eyes were a glowing, hell spawned embers. As she stared into Alucard's deranged face, she could only whimper in fright.

And there is nothing I can do,

When I realize with fright,

That the spiderman is having me for dinner tonight!

She was hypnotized not only by the shadow of death that loomed before her, and the song that crept through her fragmented psyche, but at the piece of blazing wreckage that loomed before her. The immense frame of the Blackbird had remained relatively intact as it slammed into the iron deck, and it burned in the shape of a immense cross. It was Hellsing's asummed triumph over Millennium. God's triumph against Rip's…but what unspeakable pact had God made to resort to allowing this demon to bring it forth?

In a panicked moment the last commands of her Fuhrer returned to her mind, "First Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle, do you know how Der Freischutz ends?"

Alucard leapt lithely down from the wreckage, his coat surrounding him like the wings of an immense bat. Rip leapt back, screaming shortly.

"Kasper having trifled vith the Black Huntsman, Zamiel, ist whisked away to hell for his sins."

Alucard rose slowly, shaking away his swaying hair and he began to stalk slowly closer toward his intended prey.

"His corpse ist then thrown into the bottom of the ravine, to be eaten by volves. Prepare yourself First Lieutenant, for now, Zamiel comes to collect you."

Now he stood directly before her. The No Life King. Alucard. Zamiel. The spiderman on candy striped legs. A single white glove rose stretched toward Rip's face, and she could only whimper as the awful voice growled, " Those who dare impersonate the dead, are judged to join their ranks!"

A sudden report of gunfire tore through the air, cutting short Rip Van Winkle's disjointed haze of thoughts. Alucard was knocked back, as though taken aback by the bullets. A hail of bullets issued forth, clearly a last ditch effort from the survivors of the impact. Grasping her salvation, Rip fled wildly from the scene as the crew unleashed the whole of their artillery upon the monster. "We have to hold out a while longer, it still isn't time yet!" the captain cried.

Yet no sooner than he spoke a ghastly hiss rose from the flames, and smoke too black and flowing to be natural rose from the center of the inferno.

"It….it's a monster!" the captain cried in disbelief.

Alucard's hideous form, which the gunfire had reduced to nothing more than a slender mass of bones and flesh had stood up, it gloved hands were still grossly intact. It appeared to consume the shadows about it, and flesh and bone begin to regenerate, although the form the reformed mass was obscenely hideous. A laughing and spiny humanoid mess with a jutting and formless face, although the teeth seemed lethal enough.

"Shoot! Shoot! Shoot until your empty! Throw the grenades!" the captain cried, while Rip cowered beneath the shadows. For a fleeting moment she envied the captain as he fired ruthlessly into Alucard's writhing form. His bravery had never faltered even in the very face of the evil, whist Rip could not cease her trembling.

Grenades were chucked into the swirling mass, and in the following explosion the insanity was lost. Or so it had seemed.

The survivors gasped in collective defeat as Alucard's distorted form again stretched forth from the flames, his terribly elegant face had reappeared, but his body had snaked outward into the sky and spouted an endless amount of limbs. Like a hellish variety of spider spat out from the very worst of nightmares. The demon howled into the night, whether its scream was of fury, pain or perhaps just mocking laughter was unclear.

"OH MY GOD!'" cried one of the men. "VHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU!"

With a groan the monster shot downward, snapping up men it yawning maw. The clawed arms, and the countless eyes slammed into the forms of the survivors, ripping them apart, reducing them to splatters, sucking away at their pathetic life force. Each and every fly had fallen into the spiders vicious trap…save for one.

Deep within the darkest shadows the ship had left to offer an alarm clock had began to sound. Rip heard it yet did nothing to acknowledge it. It meant the plan had worked, Millennium had launched it's attack on London, while the Hellsing Organizations strongest ally, Alucard, was distracted with Rip's hijack of the HMS Eagle. Rip had known well that she was a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter, but still she'd obeyed her Fuhrer. But what martyr could withstand the terrible fury of this sacrificial blade? The tears had surfaced now as Rip Van Winkle crouched within her corner, just able to glance at the terrible carnage around her through the corner of her glasses. She sobbed like a child and didn't even bother to try to hide those tears.

All her life she'd hidden behind a stronger, almost male façade. She'd taken on the beliefs of a Nazi, taken up the weapon of a man, the name of a man, the rank of trusted leader, but all of that had collapsed when Alucard had robbed the night of its sanity. She couldn't deny what she was any longer, a synthetic warrior. A frightened young girl.

The alarm clock stopped abruptly as a red boot slammed down onto of it. Rip jumped back with a gasp, yet still was hardly surprised to see the black silhouette looming above her, the wind tearing at it hair and cloak. The moon was haloed about Alucard's head, now that once gold orb was as red and violent as the eyes that shown forth from the blackness.

Her Fuhrer's voice drifted back to her once more, " Be prepared, Lieutenant. Vhat vill you do in the presence of Zamiel? Vhat vill you…."

"…Do? Rip Van Winkle?" Alucard's maddened voice replaced that of the Fuhrer. He narrowed his terrible eyes. Once more she heard that haunting song within her head.

Quietly he laughs, shaking his head.

Creeps closer now, closer to the foot of the bed.

She slowly removed her glasses, and wiped at her tears with the back of her gloved hand. Vhat vill I do….vhat vill I do? The thought became her mantra. Are you not a vampire, are you not a Hunter, und a soldier! You vill fight, for glory, for the Fuhrer! Zamiel shall not take me! As she replaced her glasses, fury surged into her fierce blue eyes. She pulled herself up, and leveled her musket.

"Tinker, tailor, soldier, or sailor, my varhead punishes all, VITHOUT DESTINCTION!" Rip screamed, her last resemblance of bravery.

For a moment Hunteress and monster stood facing each other, the hot wind whipped back Rip's lengthy tresses, Alucard stood motionlessly, a bemused smirk drifting across this lips.

Her gun fired with an eerie explosion, the silver bullet slammed ruthlessly into Alucard's shoulder. He didn't seem to care the least as blood spurted from the wound, yet as his feet slid backward with the force of the bullet he seemed to grow a bit wary. The bullet skittered wildly about, bouncing off the of the steel walls, and slamming back down into Alucard's form, knocking him back further. Fiercely she watched as her bullet ricocheted, and again found it's target. "Again!" she bid it.

The maniac bullet seemed to obey her, knocking Alucard about in a ruthless haze of blood. If only she could push him over the edge of the ship and into the depths of the ocean…in the water he just may be as powerless as her! "AGAIN! AGAIN!"

The vampire was indeed being pushed ruthlessly…almost easily toward the edge of the ship. "AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! DIE!! DIE UND GO TO HELL!"

A metallic clung rang through the night, and the glowing path of the magic bullet suddenly ceased. Instantly Rip cried out, knowing that she'd been defeated. The creature of madness had caught the bullet within his jagged maw, and mockingly he growled against the thick warhead, "Guess what I just caught!" He chomped down on the bullet and reduced it to shrapnel.

The Huntress had no hope, and again whimpered beneath the shadow of the looming monster before her.

"I just caught you, Rip. Van. Winkle." With swift and silent footfalls and with his horrendous arms outstretched Alucard stalked ever closer. His fist flew outward and slammed with all the force of a battering ram into Rip's face. She flew backward, overwhelmed by the indescribable force of it, her glasses flew from her face and shattered benith her. Even that simple punch told her how ruthless it would be to struggle, or to even dream of resisting Alucard. Rip was nothing more than a synthetic vampire created by Millennium, the No Life King was the very essence of what it meant to be damned and undead. Those who dare impersonate the dead are judged to join their ranks!

Her musket clattered to the ground, only to be retrieved a moment later by Alucard.

For a brief moment the hardened expression of a First Lieutenant and a Huntress crossed Rip's face, but that was the last time it would cross her androgynous features. She shrieked out as Alucard trapped her against the walls in the corner using her own weapon to do so. That scream and all others that followed sounded only like the horrified woman he'd reduced her to. His hand clamped around her throat, his narrow fingers were as steel as they closed down on her windpipe and he hoisted her easily up into air, pinning her to the wall. A slow, ominous sound… undoubtedly laughter, rumbled from his chest.

And softer than shadow, and quicker than flies,

His arms are around me, and his tongue in my eyes.

Alucard slowly raised the immense gun. Amidst the just tolerable of suffocation Rip dared to open a single blue eye, and awaiting her was the most horrific sight she could have imagined. It was vaguely blurred without her glasses, but unmistakable all the same. The barrel of her own gun was pointed at her chest. If Alucard had chose to violate her in a more human way, that horror would have been quite welcome compared to this. His gloved hand did not rest on the trigger. It was clear that violation of some horrific type was undeniable, yet his weapon of choice did not belong to his own body.

The No Life King's terrific strength made it seem as if the barrel of Rip's gun was being pushed into a far more traditional place of rape, rather than the unyielding flesh and bone of a woman's chest. But the shocked, agonized choke that welled from Rip's mouth was quite like the cry one would have heard from any victimized woman. Deeper and deeper the barrel slid into her form, seemingly meeting no resistance as it was guided by Alucard's infinite strength. Blood gushed slowly from the wound, streaming down the metal shaft and trickling past Alucard's gloved hand. The bloodied barrel easily broke through the flesh of her back, parting her dark hair, and just as easily the steel lodged into the wall behind her, effectively impaling the Huntress. Alucard watched her pale face twitching in agony even as it flushed in mortification, her form convulsed in a useless attempt at struggling and he savored each and everyone of her choking, useless gasps of pain. The smile on his face was both undeniably cruel and lewd, and he growled lustfully. The stench of his breath, of death and decay enveloped her senses, and again reality had warped into a crimson hell that was defined only by the demons black, spidery form.

Be still, be calm, be quite now my precious boy,

Don't struggle like that, for I will only love you more.

For it's much to late to get away, or turn on the light,

The spiderman is having you for dinner tonight!

Again that haunting song was invading her disconnected thoughts. Deeper within the strains of her mind she also found herself recalling one of the most beautiful pieces of Der Freischutz, it was spurred onward as she gazed into the disturbing seductive face of her Zamiel. Tears had began to course down Rip's cheeks once more, she half screamed, half vomited in her fear, blood spurting from her fanged mouth.

Then Alucard's body shifted away…however his hands, countless gloved hands springing from his body remained to pin the Huntress in place as though the gun would have failed to do so. They caressed, and groped every inch they found of her body, sometimes with the softness of a lover, but mostly with the malice of a rapist.

And I feel like I am being eaten by a thousand, million,

Shivering, furry holes.

The No Life King was now down on his knees, and lapping up the copious amounts of her spilled blood with slow and sickeningly sensual laps of his pointed tongue. He was groaning and sighing almost like a man at the edge of release, and he glared up at her with this twisted eyes and demented smile, as though making certain the symbolism of his actions was not lost on her twitching form. Even without her glasses she could see each detail with horrific clarity, everything from way Alucard panted as he leered, to the gleam of the moonlight off his teeth.

Alucard's spidery form crept back up to face the Huntress, his fanged maw was gaping and pointed tongue ribboned with her blood. As he arched closer and closer to the line of her neck again the decaying stench of his breath stifled her senses. He plunged down into her flesh, the agony of it flared through her every nerve, but in comparison to that pain the scream that rose from her throat was quite pitiful, but it showed quite clearly on her desperate features. She felt her blood beginning to flow anew, and felt it pass greedily into the mouth of the madness. There was tremendous agony…and yet as it rushed through her veins, and flowed into Alucard there was something else buried within that pain. Pleasure. A vague sense of rapture. She felt her face flush, and for a fleeting moment her whimpers and cries were not entirely of pain. Those cries of almost orgasm were far more humiliating even than the barrel of her own gun lodged in her breast, than the fangs and mouth that robbed her of her lifeblood. But soon that fleeting pleasure was sucked away…along with the pain…along with all feeling at all. She felt her eyes fighting to stay open even though the shadows were creeping in on all sides of her and clouding her vision to a dim crimson haze. She trembled…it was the best she could do to fight the invading blackness. She whimpered and tried to speak but the shadows had already crept within her mouth and stilled her tongue. She could only cry with her ebbing mind.

No….No I vill not go…I vill not go…I vill n… Zamiel, you cannot…I vill n…

And I know that in the morning I will wake up in the shivering cold.

She did not know if her eyes had finally closed or if that parasitic darkness had finally claimed enough of her beacuse now she could see nothing but a black, fathomless void. She heard a distant shout of voices, voices she'd known from some vague and distant time…

"Auf Wiendersehen Lieutenant! Ve vill met again in Walhalla! SEIG HEIL!"

Where ever this was black void was, it certainly wasn't Walhalla. One last voice was drifting through the crushing void, no…it wasn't a voice, it was laughter. Shrieking, maniacal laughter but soon even that was muffled into nothingness. Only a single, despairing line of thought was left to occupy the emptiness. It was all that remained of the Huntress, Rip Van Winkle.

The spiderman is always hungry….

Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly, for I have a little something here….