The Petty Crusade

ch 2 blaspheme

((London 6:45pm
Hellsing manor ))

As the sun set in Sicily where the young boy Damons world was torn asunder; that same dieing light illuminated a gloomy manor on the outskirts of London. The foggy city as it was named had a clouded sky of pink and orange hues a gloomy chilly night while random bursts of assault rifle fire peppered the air sporadically and disrupting the silence. A warzone erupted a small scale attack between goverment agencies that like the blown up orphanage will not be covered by the news.

Cherise stilled her acute senses bloodthirst expanding with the death in the air wafting her way. Miss cherise Victoria was a vampire. In service to a vampire hunting beauru. She was a robust blonde woman in a police uniform with glittery red eyes and smiled cheerfully as she rubbed an oily rag on a rifle who's design was based on the Mauser 1918 T-Gewehr 13.2mm bolt action anti-tank rifle.

On it was engraved 'anti-midians' in manuscript and the wood stock gleamed in her gloved hands. She smiled cheerfully perched on an angled windowsill of the rooftop of the extravagant manor as a spring shower began to drip warmly into her mid length golden hair tied into a whispy flair that spread along the back of her head like a peacock. The drips of bitter rain rolled along her dry lips and she hummed contently as she gave up on wiping the long rifle and peered through the sights.

A circle ringed along the iris of her scarlet eyes and her gaze was transfixed on the other side of her guns barrel. Blood rushed forcefully into the capillaries of her eyes fueling the nervous receptors past human convention and where ones eyes would burst from the pressure the jelly maintained thier form and actually used the boost to convert into a better eyesight. Like an organic binocular her vision zoomed in as she willed her sight along and could even feel the line of the barrels trajectory lining it up perfectly predicting the bullets path so her shots would be perfect.

On the recieving end of the rifle was an animorphous mass of indigo colored organic pulpy tentacles writhing into each other hungrily. The mass converged into each other endlessly and seemed to converge and stack growing as it lurched its way leveling the forested wood that surrounded the grounds of the manor. The things size was about 900 meters and probably a couple kilometers in girth. It would tower over london bridge if compared side to side. At the helm of the behemoth was a madman in a violet robe nestled within the mass of monstrous limbs. He had sharp hallowed features and large dark eyes that bulged and frogged out unsettlingly. He brayed and shouted spittle flying from his yellowed mouth as the tentacles curled into his mouth intamately gentle. "Welcome esteemed order of Protestant knights of the Hellsing organization! To my Mistère du Siège d'Orléans! I come in my the parody of a Holy chapel of my own design crafted from all my family name once owned in this world!" he laughed his wide chest heaving as he opened his arms proudly brandishing the beast he rode. "Come Prelati! I've finally done it. Your vision! All of our accumilated work! We are freed from the clutches of condemnation to enact punishment on the wicked church of England. Those whom burned by beloved Jeanne mistreating my beloved saint as a lowly witch. Taste the retribution of judgement. Yes! In my search through hell where you damned her so very long ago I have been given the power to level this wicked kingdom to the ground. Burn it all! Yes!" He wailed in glee tears of joy swimming from his large eyes as he squirmed in excitement.

A cold breeze wafted past the police girl bringing the sulphuric stench of the monster with it and she retched. Behind her standing was a tall man in a red coat and floppy red fedora with amber tinted glasses and a devilish smile that swallowed his narrow pale face. "This man. He reaks of wickedness. He makes the smell of death cringe in his precense. Who knows ceras, they say this kind of evil makes even my sins white in comparison. While I was building forests of ottoman corpses in wallachia during the 1400's this man was inflicting unspeakable crimes of nature in the french province of rais. They say he would snatch children, the most innocent and pure and would repeatedly skewer them and ravage the bloody wounds over and over until the children became monsters of hell. He would make a mockery dressed in patrical robes of his own fashion amd became an occult priest this once proud knight. The known victims of the baron of reis numbered in the hundreds while mine was in the tens of thousands when i was alive. Dispicable. While the red dragon terrorized transylvania bluebard he terrible was born simultaneously on this earth. Both of us unredeemable monsters created by the callousness of men and believed forsaken by a God we held dear. I could have been one of his victims once upon a time. I may have wrought the devil upon this land but this. This is just disgusting. There is no class in this abomination, this sorcerer of black. Where and how he came here is beyond me." The man in red crossed his arms a whisp of dust escaping past his lips as his red eyes simmered in the satisfaction of the challenge headed thier way. "Fire at will miss Victoria. Show him what true monsters are capable of." Seras leaned into her rifle shouldering it and pulled the trigger her dainty arms bracing against the kickback of the high caliber rifle as it erupted in semiautomatic bursts plunging through the man and the beast enveloping him and he wailed in suprise as his shoulder was torn to ribbons and the tentacles leaked thier bright green fluid into his wounds.