Hellsing, Sir Integral Hellsing, Purpose
Title: Chess Piece
Author: chickenperson52
Fandom: Helsing
Characters: Sir Hellsing, Major, Alucard, Schrodinger
Pairings: implied one-sided IntegralxMajor
Disclaimer: Hellsing is not mine. It is Kohta Hirano's.
Summary: The Major thinks of Integral. Integral is not amused.
5. Purpose
The Major studies the palm of his hand. He is wearing gloves, and the unstained white of his palm is ironic, considering he is the puppet master of one night’s bloody war.
Before him sits a chessboard, a very special chessboard. The Major is fond of chess; he is fond of his little war, to, where all the pieces have defined roles, each fulfilling their purpose.
The pieces are carved in the shapes of the players in his little game. There are many pieces, but he has his favorite, as many avid players of a game do. Not the king, for Alucard is his hated enemy. Not the pawns, for they are expendable. Not the rooks or knights or bishops, for they are all destined to die with their dreams unfulfilled. Or perhaps their dreams do not interest him.
He has a liking for the queen.
Not the white queen, represented by the traditional figure, representing the dream of death that drives his little army: no, the black queen, her tiny eyes represented by hard sapphires, is his favorite.
She is the one who will kill him.
Oh, he had had many theories and ideas of how he might die, and a death form a Hellsing member was enough for him. So long as he was not slain by Alucard, he hadn’t had any particular preference.
And then he had seen her face, seen her expression as she bit down on the cigar and narrowed her eye, had seen the falling hair and the trembling fists and had known.
She was not just a piece with a purpose. She was a hundred, a thousand, a million times more than that.
She is definitely the only one who can say she will not die: she is akin to a war goddess of old. He can see why Alucard allows her will to direct him; it is a strong will that one can really enjoy being suppressed by.
He can imagine the sword impaling him, the gun aimed directly at his face, the hard set of her lips as she destroys him. Oh, it will be beautiful, even as it will be cruel: he feels almost sorry that he can only offer her a hollow victory. What is it to kill an enemy that wants to die? But it will not occur to her to let him live.
Still, the Major has his own twisted ideals, and he admits to himself that it is hardly the way to treat a woman, especially one of this caliber. Perhaps a present is in order.
He’s thinking skimpy white satin, stained with blood.
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As the fire devours the contents of the package, Integral fumes silently to herself.
“It would have looked good on you.” Alucard comments, his shadow falling over her. She turns to look up at him, her face carefully blank.
“You should know by now I prefer my bloodstains fresh.” She replies. She lights a cigar, thus relieving her stress. Calmer, she continues on.
“The sun will set on his life soon enough. I will see to it personally.”
The catboy by the window listens carefully, learning every word to tell to his leader.
The Major will appreciate this.