[Team 2] Blood is red as sunset, blood is warmer than wine.
So this is a bit of my vampire AU that is inspired by Hellsing. It's... I don't know if this counts as graphic, but there's lots of blood and dismembering and Fujigaya being very violent and enjoying it and stuff, SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
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“Be prepared, men!” their leader shouted above the gunfire. “I hear they brought in a new dog. Some freakshow from across the water.”
There was laughter, high and cruel as the men - not soldiers, just men with dirty hands - continued to hold their position, gunning down any law enforcement officers who got too close. While they couldn’t outlast the enemy, not with their limited resources, they didn’t need to. Soon the boat would come along the river and bear them away. Soon they’d have escaped and none of these uniforms could stop them.
From a safe distance, Nikaido watched the carnage, Yokoo hovering over one shoulder, Senga over the other.
“That’s… really gross,” Senga said after a moment, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Nikaido could tell the bloodlust was there, but Senga’s genuine horror at the slaughter happening before their eyes kept it at bay. It was reassuring to see, almost. Nikaido had been forced to train himself not to retch at the sight of blood years ago.
Soon, he knew, Senga wouldn’t even pretend he didn’t want to taste it, to drink it. But for now, it was disturbing him.
“I suggest you close your eyes then,” Yokoo suggested as he handed a phone to Nikaido. He didn’t say who it was, because they already knew. Nikaido eyed the phone with reluctance but took it anyway.
“The longer you wait, the fewer people I can save,” Fujigaya purred in his ear. “They’re dropping like flies, it’s almost… sad.”
Nikaido twitched, steeling his face from flinching and clenching his jaw. It was true, there were already heavy losses on their side, but Fujigaya was a card that Nikaido did not want to play unless he had no other choice. But now he did have no other choice. “Go. We take no prisoners.”
The call ended.
“Pull back,” Fujigaya ordered the nearest officer, and men shouted orders, hurrying to comply. Anything to get away from the bloodbath.
Anything to get away from Fujigaya.
Saint and Raven were familiar weights holstered on his hips and that was where they would stay. Earlier one of the officers had offered him an assault rifle, but Fujigaya had merely smiled. He would not be winning this with bullets.
How low you’ve sunk, a voice in his mind mocked him. You used to destroy armies, you used to terrorize nations, and now here you are… the little lapdog to a brat, cleaning up the garbage for him.
Fujigaya smiled, and the men backed away from him, terrified, for he looked so feral, so dangerous all of a sudden.
Oh yes, he was bound to Nikaido. And Nikaido he would serve, until he could serve no longer. For Nikaido had the blood. It was blood that had ruined Fujigaya over a century before, and also the blood that had woken Fujigaya from his captive slumber.
The gunfire had ceased, now that law enforcement had backed off. In the air, there was the scent of blood, tainted by death. The mercenaries crouched, curious, eager, waiting. Now there was blood that sang out to him. They were so alive, so sure that they would never die. They had almost won, they had almost made it.Their boat would arrive soon… but not soon enough.
Fujigaya stepped out into the open.
They opened fire.
Bullets riddled his body, tearing his flesh apart, ripping through his lungs, his heart, even through his skull. He stood there, patient and upright, waiting.
It took them a good minute of intense assault to realize that something was wrong. Fujigaya had not fallen, though they knew most of their shots had landed. There was blood on the ground around him, his jacket was marred with bullet hole after bullet hole.
And yet Fujigaya still stood.
And he laughed.
“You humans,” he said, stepping forward and clapping. The mercenaries were no longer firing, their mouths opened in slack-jawed horror. “So eager to slaughter one another. So brutal, the way you destroy yourselves… but you are the prey here.”
“And I am hungry.”
He stood before one of the mercenaries. The man had dropped his gun, staring up at Fujigaya, his eyes glazed over, like a deer in the headlights. Like prey.
Fujigaya reached out and ripped the man’s head from his shoulders. Blood splatter all over him, warm with newly ended life, piping hot and wonderful.
With screams of horror, the men opened fire again. But they fought with the knowledge that they were, every single one of them, already dead.
Fujigaya tore through them, almost dancing as he destroyed them all. One man he reached into and ripped out his heart, another had his spine torn from him. They painted Fujigaya in red, and he laughed and laughed and laughed.
He waited for the boat to arrive, leaping onto its deck and staining it beautifully. There would be no prisoners, there would be no survivors. There was nothing to stop Fujigaya, because these were prey and he was hungry. Not for the blood, but for the satisfaction.
And then it was over. He twisted the pilot’s neck, dropped the body to the floor, and stepped back onto shore. Someone else would clean up the mess. They’d probably even burn the boat.
Nikaido, Senga, and Yokoo were all waiting for him. Around them, teams of paramedics and police officers worked to treat the fallen and organize the bodies.
Nikaido wouldn’t look at him. “Clean yourself up before you come back to the hotel,” he said, before turning and leaving the scene. Yokoo looked at Fujigaya for a moment, nodding at him before following after Nikaido.
Only Senga remained.
Fujigaya smiled, his tongue flicking over his lips. “What’s this, police-boy?” he asked, as Senga flinched away from him. “Do I scare you now? Do you realize what we are now?”
“You’re a monster,” Senga said, choking on his words, repulsed.
“As are you,” Fujigaya said in return. It felt good, to see the reality sink into Senga, as the boy realized just how low Fujigaya had brought him. “I told you that you would hate me for it. And soon you will hate yourself… But there’s no fighting who we are, Senga Kento.”
Senga backed away from him, shaking his head violently. “No! I’m-I’m nothing like you! I’ll never be like you! You’re a monster!”
And Fujigaya laughed.
♦♦♦♦
Okay, so I really like this verse though idk how anyone else is going to care for it, but basically, if you know the manga or anime, the roles kind of go like this - Fujigaya=Alucard, Senga=Seras, Nikaido=Integra, Yokoo=Walter, Kitayama=Anderson, and I haven't figured out where I want to put TamaMiya yet, but 8DDD
♦♦♦♦
“Be prepared, men!” their leader shouted above the gunfire. “I hear they brought in a new dog. Some freakshow from across the water.”
There was laughter, high and cruel as the men - not soldiers, just men with dirty hands - continued to hold their position, gunning down any law enforcement officers who got too close. While they couldn’t outlast the enemy, not with their limited resources, they didn’t need to. Soon the boat would come along the river and bear them away. Soon they’d have escaped and none of these uniforms could stop them.
From a safe distance, Nikaido watched the carnage, Yokoo hovering over one shoulder, Senga over the other.
“That’s… really gross,” Senga said after a moment, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Nikaido could tell the bloodlust was there, but Senga’s genuine horror at the slaughter happening before their eyes kept it at bay. It was reassuring to see, almost. Nikaido had been forced to train himself not to retch at the sight of blood years ago.
Soon, he knew, Senga wouldn’t even pretend he didn’t want to taste it, to drink it. But for now, it was disturbing him.
“I suggest you close your eyes then,” Yokoo suggested as he handed a phone to Nikaido. He didn’t say who it was, because they already knew. Nikaido eyed the phone with reluctance but took it anyway.
“The longer you wait, the fewer people I can save,” Fujigaya purred in his ear. “They’re dropping like flies, it’s almost… sad.”
Nikaido twitched, steeling his face from flinching and clenching his jaw. It was true, there were already heavy losses on their side, but Fujigaya was a card that Nikaido did not want to play unless he had no other choice. But now he did have no other choice. “Go. We take no prisoners.”
The call ended.
“Pull back,” Fujigaya ordered the nearest officer, and men shouted orders, hurrying to comply. Anything to get away from the bloodbath.
Anything to get away from Fujigaya.
Saint and Raven were familiar weights holstered on his hips and that was where they would stay. Earlier one of the officers had offered him an assault rifle, but Fujigaya had merely smiled. He would not be winning this with bullets.
How low you’ve sunk, a voice in his mind mocked him. You used to destroy armies, you used to terrorize nations, and now here you are… the little lapdog to a brat, cleaning up the garbage for him.
Fujigaya smiled, and the men backed away from him, terrified, for he looked so feral, so dangerous all of a sudden.
Oh yes, he was bound to Nikaido. And Nikaido he would serve, until he could serve no longer. For Nikaido had the blood. It was blood that had ruined Fujigaya over a century before, and also the blood that had woken Fujigaya from his captive slumber.
The gunfire had ceased, now that law enforcement had backed off. In the air, there was the scent of blood, tainted by death. The mercenaries crouched, curious, eager, waiting. Now there was blood that sang out to him. They were so alive, so sure that they would never die. They had almost won, they had almost made it.Their boat would arrive soon… but not soon enough.
Fujigaya stepped out into the open.
They opened fire.
Bullets riddled his body, tearing his flesh apart, ripping through his lungs, his heart, even through his skull. He stood there, patient and upright, waiting.
It took them a good minute of intense assault to realize that something was wrong. Fujigaya had not fallen, though they knew most of their shots had landed. There was blood on the ground around him, his jacket was marred with bullet hole after bullet hole.
And yet Fujigaya still stood.
And he laughed.
“You humans,” he said, stepping forward and clapping. The mercenaries were no longer firing, their mouths opened in slack-jawed horror. “So eager to slaughter one another. So brutal, the way you destroy yourselves… but you are the prey here.”
“And I am hungry.”
He stood before one of the mercenaries. The man had dropped his gun, staring up at Fujigaya, his eyes glazed over, like a deer in the headlights. Like prey.
Fujigaya reached out and ripped the man’s head from his shoulders. Blood splatter all over him, warm with newly ended life, piping hot and wonderful.
With screams of horror, the men opened fire again. But they fought with the knowledge that they were, every single one of them, already dead.
Fujigaya tore through them, almost dancing as he destroyed them all. One man he reached into and ripped out his heart, another had his spine torn from him. They painted Fujigaya in red, and he laughed and laughed and laughed.
He waited for the boat to arrive, leaping onto its deck and staining it beautifully. There would be no prisoners, there would be no survivors. There was nothing to stop Fujigaya, because these were prey and he was hungry. Not for the blood, but for the satisfaction.
And then it was over. He twisted the pilot’s neck, dropped the body to the floor, and stepped back onto shore. Someone else would clean up the mess. They’d probably even burn the boat.
Nikaido, Senga, and Yokoo were all waiting for him. Around them, teams of paramedics and police officers worked to treat the fallen and organize the bodies.
Nikaido wouldn’t look at him. “Clean yourself up before you come back to the hotel,” he said, before turning and leaving the scene. Yokoo looked at Fujigaya for a moment, nodding at him before following after Nikaido.
Only Senga remained.
Fujigaya smiled, his tongue flicking over his lips. “What’s this, police-boy?” he asked, as Senga flinched away from him. “Do I scare you now? Do you realize what we are now?”
“You’re a monster,” Senga said, choking on his words, repulsed.
“As are you,” Fujigaya said in return. It felt good, to see the reality sink into Senga, as the boy realized just how low Fujigaya had brought him. “I told you that you would hate me for it. And soon you will hate yourself… But there’s no fighting who we are, Senga Kento.”
Senga backed away from him, shaking his head violently. “No! I’m-I’m nothing like you! I’ll never be like you! You’re a monster!”
And Fujigaya laughed.
♦♦♦♦
Okay, so I really like this verse though idk how anyone else is going to care for it, but basically, if you know the manga or anime, the roles kind of go like this - Fujigaya=Alucard, Senga=Seras, Nikaido=Integra, Yokoo=Walter, Kitayama=Anderson, and I haven't figured out where I want to put TamaMiya yet, but 8DDD