One day, my dad showed me this funny Hellsing fanfiction called "Hellsing's Madhouse". I liked it so much that I decided to translate it into English. After getting the author's permission (even though she said I didn't have to ask for it), I posted my translation on Hellsing-Ultimate.com. My mother strongly recommended me to post it on more than one site. How could I refuse?
Original text: http://hellsing-ultimate.com/publ/fanfiki_hellsing/umor/zheltyj_dom_khellsinga/10-1-0-67
Okay, here's the translation...
The author's spelling is preserved.
From the legal document.
“...I, Abraham Van Helsing, hand out the basement of my London estate as a location of Dr. Grey's mental hospital. Dr. Grey is charged with three hundred pounds every half a year. He is to either pay me personally or transfer the money to my bank account. The deal was signed with the assistance of my personal lawyer A. Braune and Mr. Grey's lawyer M. Liebhen. The deal is valid until either one of the sides violates one of the aforementioned conditions or the contract is ended with an agreement from both sides.
Sir Abraham Van Helsing.
“What's this nature's wonder?”
“A vampire. He was found drunk in the gateway. Ran into an alcoholic. Poor thing”.
Abraham Van Helsing looked at the vampire critically: poor guy tried his best to focus his vision on something, but his pupils were slowly but ruthlessly gravitating to the bridge of his nose. A black head of hair, long arms and legs added to the weird impression.
“Okay, carry him to the basement. We'll deal with him there”.
* * *
“Let me go! I'm not a psycho! I don't want to the asylum! Let go off me!” Alucard was yelling (yes, that vampire was him) while being carried by nurses through the corridor.
“I'm going to !»№;%: you so hard you'll L:№%; and will be (?%:**7 like nobody's business!” Sir Helsing lashed out, having been listening to those cries for around an hour already. “Put him into the cell and don't forget to draw a pentagram on his door!”
And that's how Alucard came under the rule of Hellsings. It was his price for occupying the place for one hundred years, for using sobering medicine and blood rations. Taking interests into account, quite a sum was accumulating...
* * *
From the historical document.
“...Hellsings bought the hospital and started to use it for their own experiments. The people began to call it Hellsing's Madhouse...”
* * *
A soul-crushing cry shattered the corridor. Alucard came to life and leaned against the wall as closely as leather belts holding him would let him.
“Heretics! Protestant dogs! Unbelievers!”
Vampire frowned trying to remember where he heard that before.
“I'll report to Vatican! A holy war will begin! HERETIIIIIIIICS!” the voice shouted. Romp and bumps could be heard.
“Quite a difficult case,” a quieter voice said, “Calls himself the Messenger of God and claims to be able to fly with the help of paper”.
Suddenly, a wild guess hit Alucard.
“Anderson, is that you?” he shouted, “Long time no see, the Reverend!”
The door slammed somewhere. Everything went quiet.
Having sighed heavily, Alucard returned to the old position. As in, the position of digging a way out of the asylum with an aluminium spoon. Alas, a hard concrete wall was standing between him and freedom.
However, he was soon interrupted by loud noises again.
“Bitches! Motherfuckers! Fuck your mother! And yours! And yours too!”
Alucard put his spoon aside.
“And yours! And mine!”
“Jan, don't speak of our mother that way!” the other voice sounded annoyed, “We must act decently!”
“Go to hell, Luke!”
“No, you go!”
“Shut up, you son of a bitch!”
“Ha! And you say, 'Act decently, act decently...'”
“Put them in different cells”.
Two doors slammed one after the other.
“They sure filled their ranks today!” Alucard thought surprised and found more strength to continue digging.
But the silence didn't last long.
The sounds of footsteps of three pairs of legs were coming from the basement. The door silently opened and quietly closed.
“Paranoia and hallucinations. He only said that he was called D. Talks to his left hand. The most terrifying thing is, it answers him!” The doctor’s voice sounded like a gun shot in the silence of the basement.
These seemingly peaceful events are what brought about the storm that was later labeled Hellsing’s Madhouse Asylum Break.
“...Learn the doctrine, kiss the son, and may the Light be with you,” Anderson finished reading and tapped the tome on the heads of the nurses, “On second thought, lay down in the dark for now!” he chuckled and rushed into Rome's direction.
Jan was the second to escape. He did it the same evening, during nearly the same period of time.
A nurse was delivering lunch to the subjects, and soon it was the younger Valentine's turn. The nurse was calling him a cute and docile boy and couldn't understand why he was imprisoned in the first place (aside from the ridiculous amount of piercing and the cap with an eye). Entering his cell, decorously carrying a tray in front of herself, the nurse opened the door wide, having forgotten to look behind it first. Armed with his new linguistic knowledge, the “cute and docile boy” hit her in the head with the material form of said knowledge and caught a falling tray. Afterwards Jan sat, drank his and Luke's glasses of blood, ate pancakes that were meant for Alexander Anderson who escaped, wiped his hands and headed to save his brother, that is Luke.
The heavy lock creaked, revealing Luke who was thoughtfully reading Capital.
“Please, get up, bro. We've got to go... Damnit!” Jan swore, “Leave the cell this instant! Goons will arrive to stake us anytime soon, for Christ's sake! Screw that book!” he added in a quieter voice, “Come on, lay off Marx! Millenium's waiting for us!”
The older Valentine looked at his brother guiltily.
“Jan, you know...”
“No, I don't”.
“I'm not going back to Millenium”.
“What!?” Jan didn't get it.
“I'm not a Nazi anymore!”
“I'm a communist,” Luke looked down and began to examine the strategically important objects of the stone floor.
“Come on, let's go. Getting some sleep, washing your head and drinking fresh blood is gonna heal ya!” younger Valentine was exhorting his poor brother while leading him through the corridor.
“We must do the revolution! Bourgeois elements are oppressing the working class!” Luke was resisting weakly.
“We will, brother. We will. We'll do the revolution, we'll do Hellsings and we'll do the Vatican,” Jan tried to calm him down while dragging him from the basement.
Feeling like he's almost alone, Alucard began to worry.
“Hey, let me out!” he shouted.
“Yeah, of course! And then you'll unleash the dogs on us and start shooting us with silver bullets... Keep dreaming!” Jan barked.
“I want to get some sleep too! I want to wash my head and drink fresh blood too!” the vampire didn't give up.
“Maybe we should also bring you some tea and cocoa?” Jan sneered and disappeared behind the bend.
“Proletarians of all countries, unite!” Luke's shout could be heard in the distance, then everything went quiet.
“Son of a bitch!” Alucard thought angry. He remarked that he should get upsides with Anderson and the Valentine brothers. Depression overwhelmed the vampire, and he began to violently dig through what was left on his way out. Only 15 centimeters were now separating him from fresh air and freedom from Hellsing's oppression.
“Hey, D, are you there?” Alucard loudly asked in an attempt to distract himself from grievous thoughts.
Something rustled behind the wall, and everything went quiet.
In five minutes sounds of a dozen feet stomping and a dozen throats swearing filled the basement. Apparently, the nurses realized what was going on. Having noticed that all cells are empty, medics decided to open the Alucard's and the neighboring ones. The door rustled, and a surprised shout of the same dozen of throats followed. The cell was empty. An inscription (written by blood, of course) said: “D was here”.
In 24 hours Hellsing's Madhouse was disbanded. A lonely Alucard was the only person left in its former apartments. Integra Wingates Hellsing was 12...
* * *
Swearing like people used to do twenty and two hundred years ago, Alucard threw away the no-longer-needed spoon made of stainless steel. Only one centimeter remained, and a wall that thin could easily be broken by a few kicks. But life just can't be that easy! Just when the vampire was about to kick the wall, he was distracted by a sound of a fallen ventipane. Someone was nervously pulling the handle of his door.
Alucard sat on the floor, spreading his legs wide and hiding the hole with his spine. He pretended to be a corpse, and his act was quite convincing, given the strict diet he's been on for 20 years already.
Voices could be heard: one of a child and one of an adult. Shot. The door opened, and a thirteen year old girl in a skirt and with glasses half a size of her face flew into the cell. Second shot. Blood partially watered the floor and the walls. The girl cried out and grabbed her arm. A man with a gun and a mustache was standing on the doorstep, three or four men were standing behind him. The man with a mustache was giving a long and pompous monologue, but Alucard wasn't listening to him anymore. His mind was occupied by the smell of blood and the feeling of severe frustration: “I only had one centimeter left! Maybe they'll leave? Why? What did I bloody do? I'm bloody hungry! Delicious blood! Damn nurses! Didn't feed me in twenty years! So warm, tasty, tasty...” Alucard's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling that he was being watched. He was terrified. “What have I done!? Oh mother Carmilla!” Without even realizing that, he was kneeling in the middle of the room and hungrily licking blood off the floor.
“A living corpse! A living corpse!” people shouted.
“What, did you read too much Dostoevsky?” the vampire grinned. “I'm also familiar with The Idiot and Poor Folk, which are about you. Notes from Underground is about me. The Brothers Karamazov is about the Valentine brothers. There's also Crime and Punishment, which is about Father Anderson! Oh, and then there's Whoever Doesn't Hide, I Will Eat, written by me!”
And sure enough, whoever didn't hide, Alucard ate, having ripped apart his straightjacket first. His feast wasn't aesthetically pleasing, but he sure looked hungry. He ripped the mustache dude's arm off, but just for show. Like, don't wave your gun around!
The girl pulled a gun from the ripped hand and leaned against the wall. Alucard was hanging above her like an inevitable punishment of fate.
“Listen, let's do it like this: you don't move, I don't bite you too hard. You lay down like a good girl, I quickly go away. Deal?” the vampire asked grinning arrogantly.
“No, no deal! I have a better suggestion: you don't bite, I don't shoot. You keep your distance, I don't shoot again!” the girl squeaked in a thin voice.
“What? Are you going to command me now?” having frowned, the vampire asked.
“I am Integra Wingates Hellsing and I'm not about to be bossed around by a vampire! If you don't get your arrogant mug off my face right now, I'm going to !»№;%: you so hard you'll L:№%; and will be (?%:**7 like nobody's business!!”
“Excellent! Simply splendid! I recognize Hellsing's attitude!” Alucard exclaimed in a fit of anger, feeling his dreams fading away. He then kneeled. “Go on, give me orders, master!”
“State your name, for starters,” a young Integra asked putting the gun down.
“Alucard. That's what your great-great-great... grandfather called me. May he suffer in the netherworld! Anyway, give me your goddamn orders! I'm getting tired of kneeling”.
“Well...” the “master” thought, “For starters, let's waste my uncle. After that? We'll see. Thanks, by the way! You didn't let a young life end early!”
“It's nothing,” Alucard grumbled, waving goodbye to his thoughts of freedom. “Let's go kill your uncle. Look how far he crawled”.