Schingiuire
To make a monster into a pet, one must first break the monster into a husk, leaving nothing of personality or mind. Then, and only then, can it be rebuilt to fit the master as a pet.
Title: Leashed Darkness V1 - Unfinished Draft of Chapter 14

Author's note: This is the unfinished draft to the first Leashed Darkness's chapter 14. It will not be finished, and it is highly unlikely the first Leashed will ever be finished. I am sorry but I do not feel the first story anymore, and it is torture to force yourself to do something you do not feel. If I were to force myself to finish this story it would be nothing but trash because my spirit would not be in it. However, I do give you this, the unfinished draft to what would have been the next chapter. Enjoy




house arrest


Seward could feel a chill in the air the moment he stepped out of his carriage. A fog had descended over the road about half a mile from the manor, and now he could see that this was the epicentre of it. It was no natural fog, for when he breathed it in, there was a stale smell of decay in the vapours. Seward half expected to be tripping over weeks old corpses through Abraham's lawn. The cab driver already had his horses moving before the doctor could turn around and pay him. Seward blinked as he watched the driver toss his luggage from the rack as the horses were already racing away from this place of terror. He could hear their ragged, terrified breath and suppressed a shudder.

Who could blame the man? Individuals who had not dealt with supernatural beasts could hardly be blamed for feeling fear. Seward himself had encountered one of the most powerful, and survived, and he still could feel a cold, animal terror rising in his chest, threatening to choke his breathing and send him yelling after the cab to take him away from this cursed place.

It was nearly a month ago he had received a telegram from Arthur Godalming suggesting something seriously wrong. Abraham had sent him a letter that had a few troubling statements about the sinister occupant Abraham had vowed to command and control. Statements which may have hinted that Dracula was slowly slipping free through a hole Abraham could not identify. The telegram had begged Seward to investigate, as Abraham had not replied to any letters since.

Looking around the lawn of the estate, Seward was silently wondering if he should have passed the visit back to Arthur, but Abraham was a very dear friend. Even more than that, Abraham was his mentor. Seward took his first cautious step over the cobble stone walk, his lungs seeming to strain to breathe the noxious fog. He was not sure without crouching to look, but the grass seemed dead. Furrowing his brow and turning in a slow circle, Seward noted that there didn't seem to be any life on the estate at all. Where were the guards, the dogs, any of the number of people that moved on their duties here? The trees, plants, grass, everything seemed dead. Not a bird song, nor chirp of an insect broke the air. Seward felt as if he had walked into a proverbial tomb.

Steeling his resolve, Seward approached the large door to the manor, lifting a hand to rap against the wood with his knuckles. Even before the echo faded, he felt as if a presence had turned it's attention to his existence. Moments before he had been about as important as a gnat around a giant's eye, but now he was disturbing this presence.

Clearing his throat and deciding finally that he could distract himself no longer. Something was very wrong here, and whatever it was, it could not bode well for Abraham. Seward let himself into the manor, some instinctive force suppressing his urge to call out for Abraham, or really any other living being. As he shut the door behind him, Seward swore he saw a shadow shift, moving in a way it was not meant to. Though, when he turned, there was nothing there, which set him even more one edge.

Seward strode through the empty building, noting the layer of dust that covered everything. If he had not known otherwise, he would have guessed this place to have been long abandoned. As he made his way up the steps, Seward contemplated reasoning for the sudden state of Abraham's home. Part of him very well knew the reason, Dracula. But for something this drastic to happen, the beast would have to be free of Abraham's hold. If that were true, Seward himself would be dead as he was quite sure Dracula would end the lives of those who brought his downfall the moment he had the chance.

He was shocked out of his thoughts as he reached the top of the stairs. A withered corpse sat with it's back against the wall, eyeless sockets staring up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open from the muscles going slack at death. Seward felt a sick feeling swimming in his gut, as if an eel were twisting wildly to get free of his insides.

“Gods,” he whispered to himself, now more keenly aware of the presence that he could feel watching him. The hair on the back of his neck lifted, and he then sprinted down the hallway, passing yet another corpse, withered as if it had been dead in the desert for months. “Abraham!” he yelled, slamming his shoulder against the door of his mentor's office, a blast of stagnate air hitting him in the face.

And there he lay, the great Abraham, monster slayer, crumpled against the side of his desk as if he were a boxer having lost a great fight. Seward called out his name again, rushing to the side of his friend and feeling an almost choking happiness to find the man still alive, though very weak.

“Abraham, my friend. Come on, I'll get you out of here,” he promised, whispering to the still form, hoping to rouse Abraham. Abraham shifted slightly and Seward whispered a silent prayer as he hooked an arm under his friend and tried to help him stand.

He cried out in sudden shock as Abraham's arm hooked around his throat, spinning him and slamming him into the desk. Seward tried to push himself away, and just barely missed a blow from Abraham's fist that would have either crushed his skull or knocked him out.

“What's wrong?” Seward cried, breathless as he jumped away from Abraham. The man's skin was deathly pale, but he had felt a heartbeat. Abraham turned to him, moving fluidly and settling his blue eyes upon Seward.

But there was something very wrong with his eyes. Blue as they were, there was a red glow to them, and strange red streams in his eyes, as if someone were bleeding into crystal waters. “My God,” Seward gasped. “What happened to you, Abraham?” He took another step back, his heart hammering in his chest.

Ghostly words spoken in a deep, sinister voice rose behind him. “To toy with the dead, one should be prepared to join their ranks.” The final word was bitten off with a dark hiss, and Seward turned, half expecting to be faced with a forked tongued demon. But only Dracula stood there, proud and tall, appearing for all the world as if he had just stepped out of a fifteenth century battlefield.

“Why dear Seward,” Abraham spoke up, his voice a verbal mix of both his true voice and the sinister deep voice of the demon. “You appear to have seen a ghost.”

“A ghost yes,” Dracula chuckled, his subtly curling hair falling over one side of his face. “Because he will not walk much longer, not in this world. Behold!” the demon suddenly barked, eyes bright with dancing hellfire. “You have arrived for the human monster's final moments! It won't be long now,” he chortled.

“What have you done to him, monster?” Seward spoke up, gathering his courage. Dracula could not be fought with fear, and certainly not when Abraham appeared to be in his grasp.

“Done to him?” the vampire parroted, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head to the side. An armoured hand lifted, brushing over the slight facial hair that covered his chin and upper lip. “A vexing question,” he chuckled. “What have I ever done to him?”

Dracula clasped his hands behind his back, slowly approaching Seward with a narrowed visage. “You ask what I have done to him. Have you any idea what he has done to me?”

Seward held his ground, turning slowly to keep the vampire in his vision as it walked in a slow, predatory circle around him. “But that does not matter any longer,” Dracula paused, waving a hand in dismissal of his own question. “He is mine now. My little puppet. But you, Dr. Seward. I am just a bit more fond of you. So I will give you a sporting chance. Leave now, and get your sad little band together. Let us see if you can take me a second time, without the help of this monster here.”

Dracula moved behind Abraham, brushing the back of his armoured fingers over the man's unshaven cheek. “You're draining the life out of everything here,” Seward suddenly realised. “Sucking it up through the fog.” It was a statement, not a question, for there really was no other answer to why everything was dead without any sign of struggle. And it even more explained the decayed smell of the very air.

The vampire chuckled, a deep, wicked sound. “Yes,” he replied. “But not everything. This occult seal scarred onto my flesh will not let me drain this one, not like the others,” Dracula moved around Abraham again, dragging his fingers over the human's clothed chest. “I have to try a different way. But the end result is still the same.”

He turned on a heel, leering saber teeth at Seward, his eyes flecked with yellow. “Why are you not running?” he suddenly asked, one eyebrow raising slightly. “I gave you your chance, and I will not offer again.”

“Abraham will be accompanying me,” Seward stated bluntly to the vampire's face,forcefully working to still his hammering heart. Dracula would only become excited by the sound and smells of fear, he needed to win control over this situation. As far as he could tell, Dracula was still under Abraham's control, though Abraham himself was under Dracula's control. It was a vicious circle that kept either of them from doing anything.

“Oho?” Dracula straightened himself, looking down at Seward with an eerily mirthful expression. “You will be taking him with you then? And what if he does not wish to go? He enjoys my company so much, I doubt he will ever leave,” Dracula barked a laugh, his eyes flashing, elliptical pupils contracting to narrow in at Seward.

“You cannot stop me,” Seward challenged, crushing a shudder that threatened to wrack his body at the sudden flash of violence that revealed itself in Dracula's eyes.

Seward narrowed his own eyes as Dracula raised an arm, long black talons lengthening from the tips of his armoured fingers. “My offer has now expired,” the vampire hissed, his arm arching back to strike at him. Abraham's hand lunged out, snatching Dracula by the wrist.

“Down boy,” he rasped, his face hard, with nothing suggesting his earlier insanity.

The vampire looked at him with wide eyes, the look of one who was not believing what he was seeing. Abraham shoved the vampire to the side, Dracula not resisting him at all as he was shoved. Seward stepped forward as Abraham suddenly staggered nearly falling.

“Get me out of here,” he whispered in a weak voice at Seward, who happily obliged, helping his friend along the hallways, avoiding the various corpses as much as he could. The cab was long gone, and Seward doubted there were any horses alive in the stables. Seeing no other option, he pulled Abraham along, whispering little phrases of encouragement until they were well beyond the gates of the manor. As they reached the road, Seward turned to look over his shoulder through the now thinning mist and allowed a shudder as he could distinctly make out a figure standing tall and proud, almost like a macabre gargoyle, at the gates to the Hellsing estate.

Part Two

The thunderous crack of Abraham's fist meeting the wall made them all jump. “How dare that beast test me? How dear that scum kill everything on my estate? Men, women, animals, plants, everything was dead, I could feel it. Alucard was seeping through my mind, trying to break the seal by controlling me!”

“Please calm down, Professor,” a young nurse urged, moving quickly around the bed to take Abraham's arm and lead him back to lie down. “If you stress yourself out too much you will not have the energy for anything.”

Abraham hissed something that Seward could not quite catch. “I'll grind the fiend's brain to paste for this,” he snapped, ignoring the odd look he garnered from the nurse, who checked his pulse then slipped out of the room.

Seward watched her go, waiting for a moment before turning back to Abraham. It had taken a few days, but the doctor was good as new now, at least for the most part. He certainly had his temper back. Ever since his mind had come back around he had been cursing Alucard's name.

The guest room of his house was not much, but Seward felt that Abraham was comfortable enough here, at least until he regained strength enough to put down the vampire.

“Abraham, this seems a bit more than just a simple rebellion. When I stepped out of the carriage, there was a cold evil in the air.”

Abraham brushed a hand over his face, letting out a sigh. Seward could see his weary muscles relax as he was confronted with a dark truth. “It was madness,” the Hellsing replied after a few moments. “He has finally gone mad. I think he may have attacked the seal from various points simultaneously. The only loophole he could find was through my mind, and so he took that option. I had been feeling ill for several days before everything was lost.”

Seward nodded, a deep frown over his features. “Dracula is a monster, cold and true. I think it is best to treat him like a monster, and not like the pet you have been trying to make him. Monsters cannot be tamed, they must be caged, or at least put on a chain with a decent run.”

His fellow looked up for a moment, the ice blue eyes narrowed in contemplation. “You expect me to forgive his behaviour because he is what he is?”

“No,” Seward shook his head quickly. “I did not say he could not be trained, but he cannot be tamed. You cannot beat the instincts out of a wolf. But rather, point those instincts in the direction you wish him to expend his energy.”

@темы: Rejected Drafts, Alucard, Abraham, Leashed Darkness