Short Helena Fic

This is my first post here, and actually my first Hellsing writing of any kind. It's a bit longer than allowed (give or take 100 words...), but I hope no one will mind. It's just a little bit of fic based in the animeverse (I think this is also called Gonzoverse?) - Helena reflects on her sad state. Rated PG because rating anything from Hellsing as "G" just seems totally incomprehensible. And, of course, Hellsing is property of Kohta Hirano &c.

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Cozy and cramped, the penthouse was little more than an architectural after thought. The furnishings were elegant in dark wood, unmistakable antiques from a bygone era in which craftsmanship was still an art to take pride in. The air smelled of beeswax, and table top candelabra flickered in the darkness.

Helena set the book aside, disgusted. If such pathetic creatures truly existed, she was embarrassed for her species. ‘Interview with a Vampire, indeed,’ she thought, her rosebud mouth twisting into a sour expression. ‘What rubbish.’

At first glance, Helena seemed little more than a child, waifish and in sore need of outdoor recreation. But, appearances can be deceiving. “Don’t judge a book by its cover” – she’d learned that quaint phrase. The fact of the matter was that she was well over a hundred years old. She had a birthday coming up, though the decades had taught her to disregard such insignificant events.

She glanced back at the book, pale brows knit with displeasure. At first, she’d been elated – wondered if it were true, tickled that one of her kind might be so candid with a human being. It wasn’t long, however, until she discovered that it was a complete work of fiction – a gross lie, as far as she was concerned. But, never one to leave something unfinished, she continued to read.

The characters were, in a word, melodramatic. Too human. Especially the interviewee. The other one, his maker, was more realistic, but only barely. What really caught her attention, what made her read on was Claudia, the little draculina. Helena had been enraptured – another child creation, just like her! It seemed as if the author had glimpsed fragments of her own life; the fledgling joy, the relish of deception, the hatred and loathing of the world, her master, and herself. But, it was only a story. It couldn’t even begin to grasp at the reality of her condition. And so she was disgusted.

Idly thumbing the pages of the book – for everything is done out of idleness when you’ve lived for over a century – Helena thought of the creature that had visited her not so long ago. A young woman, an infant draculina, Seras Victoria. That child, that baby, was totally unaware of her blessing. She took it for granted: the peachy figure, the very peak of youth, that delicious crest before the descent. She couldn’t have been more than twenty when she died – she faced an eternity of good looks, a thought which probably never even entered her silly, nubile head. But, of course, Helena noticed it – noticed it with an insatiable envy, an emotion more powerful than any other she’d ever experienced, living or dead.

She had come to terms with many things – the loss of her life, her family, her friends, even the loss of her innocence, But, what she couldn’t cope with was her misfortune, the greatest misfortune in her mind – that she was, and would always remain, a child.

And yet, she’d grown somewhat accustomed to it. Even if she could see her reflection, there were no mirrors to remind her. And, living as she did, utterly alone in the veritable nook of a cranny, she had no one and nothing to compare herself to. The only time she dealt with her shortcoming was when she went out to feed. Then, she was forced to look upon, to touch mature figures, the strong men, the voluptuous women that were nothing more than fodder.

Helena slid off the edge of the green velveteen chair, her feet thudding dully on the carpet. She crossed the room, a vision in white lace, and wound the Victrola. It spluttered for a moment, the horn emitting crackling voices, opera once sonorous and sublime, now thin and tinny. She settled back into her chair, folding dainty hands in her lap, twiddling slender thumbs. As the music played on, she paused to reflect on a past long gone.

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Author's Notes
First of all, I’d like to say that I think Helena is an underrated character. She played a small role in the anime, but, as an enigma, she’s totally fascinating, completely intriguing. I just felt like I had to write something about her, and, for better or worse, this is it.

Secondly, for all you Anne Rice fans out there, this was not meant as derogatory in any way. I like her well enough, and “Interview with a Vampire” was a great book! After I saw the Helena, I immediately was reminded of Claudia. And, I began to wonder what one might think of the other. It was never a question of writing Anne Rice fanfiction (firstly because it’s not my preference as a reader/writer, and secondly because I understand the woman gets pretty bent out of shape over fic). For me, this was the obvious and preferable outlet. In short, please don’t get your knickers in a twist over a fictional observation!

I toyed with the idea of lengthening this into a full-blown story, but I'm not sure. I'm still getting my Hellsing fic feet wet. What do you think? Comments, suggestions?