Chapter 11 Hellsing
HELLSING
That storm had gotten worse by the time I rolled through the gates.
The road out past the clubhouse turned slick under my tires, water spraying off the asphalt as I rode down toward the old runway.
Out here, tucked off the side of the road, sat an old, rundown hangar we called the Boneyard.
It was a rusted-out graveyard full of broken plane skeletons and used parts.
We used it to keep the things we didn’t want the world to see out of sight.
I killed the engine, boots sinking into the mud as I stepped off the bike.
The smell of wet metal and gasoline filled the air.
My thoughts weren’t here, they were with Grace, wondering if she’d eaten, if she was still at that beignet shop, if she’d gotten back to the Midnight Wytch okay.
My thoughts were broken by the sight of Macabre, leaning against his bike, raising an eyebrow at me.
He flicked his cigarette to the ground, the ash hitting my boot.
“Bout time, Exorcist,” he said, voice flat, hood up over his head.
“What’s with all the cryptic messages, man? I got three missed calls from you and a text that said to meet out here. What’s going on?”
“We got him.”
I moved closer. “The Scorpion?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, eyes dark.
My stomach tightened. “Where is he?”
Macabre nodded toward the hangar. “Inside.”
“Well, what the hell are we doing out here, let’s go.”
I brushed past him, but he held me back. “I’m just gonna tell you right now, you’re not gonna like that scene in there.”
“Why?” I asked, my gut twisting.
Macabre sighed. “He’s just a fuckin’ kid.”
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Macabre led the way, the sound of rain hammering on the tin roof was loud as we stepped in.
The air inside smelled like old fuel and blood.
The kid sat tied to a metal chair in the center of the hangar floor, hands bound behind his back, soaked and shaking.
Couldn’t have been older than seventeen.
His cut was torn, the Scorpion patch half ripped off the back.
Jameson was leaning against a workbench, arms crossed, calm but cold. Hoax stood nearby, phone in hand, camera already rolling for record’s sake. Scorn stood in the shadows, silent as always, eyes sharp and unreadable.
The kid looked up when I walked in, eyes red and wide. “Please,” he croaked, voice raw. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
He was young, too young to be stupid like this, but stupid’s cheap in their crew.
Jameson’s tone was all steel. “Then you should have thought twice before destroying Bastard property.”
“I didn’t fuck it up,” the kid pleaded, jerking against the zip ties. “I swear, man, I just… they told me it was part of my initiation. Said if I carved the mark, I’d get my patch.”
Hoax scoffed, “Yeah, and you thought that was a good fuckin’ idea?”
“I didn’t know it was one of yours!” the kid shouted, voice cracking. “They just said it was a witch’s place. That’s all!”
Jameson hung his head. “Stupid doesn’t even amount to what you are, kid. Don’t you know the French Quarter is Bastard territory? You fuck with one of them, you fuck with all of us.”
“I swear…I swear I didn’t know.”
I stepped closer, crouching in front of him. “You got a name?”
He hesitated. “J-Josh.”
“Josh,” I repeated, my voice low. “You got a roadname, Josh?”
“N-not yet. I don’t get one yet.”
I looked at Scorn who only shook his head. “You got any idea what mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Josh?”
I emphasized his name because it sounded so damn ridiculously innocent, that it was absurd.
“You don’t carve on our shit, you don’t step foot near the Quarter without permission, and you sure as hell don’t mess with her.”
He looked confused. “Who?”
“Grace Desdemone,” Jameson said flatly. “That shop you trashed? That’s her place. That’s our brother’s blood you touched.”
Josh swallowed hard, realizing just how deep he’d gone. “Look, man, like I said, I didn’t know…”
“Yeah, I heard you,” I asked. “Who gave the order?”
His mouth trembled. “I-I can’t. They’ll kill me.”
“Listen, kid, if you don’t tell us, we’ll kill you,” Macabre’s tone was filled with sarcasm and frustration.
“Pl-please. Please,” he cried.
“Oh, Jesus,” Scorn huffed. “Just tell us who the fuck ordered it!”
His shout mixed with Jameson’s slap to the face, made the kid react, and eventually, we got a name out of him. “Cr-Croak,” he spat out. “It was Croak. He said it’d make me one of them. Said the Scorpions don’t take cowards.”
Scorn stepped forward, his voice calm and cold as stone. “Croak? Croak’s runnin’ the New Orleans Chapter?”
“Yeah,” Tanner said quickly. “He’s the one who told me about the job. I didn’t even wanna do it, man. I ain’t like them.”
Macabre cracked his knuckles. “That son of a bitch has it out for us ever since Tick Tock put a bullet in his skull.”
Jameson slowly stood, taking slow steps toward him. “You wanted a patch bad enough to risk your life. That’s not courage, kid. That’s suicide.”
The kid started crying, actual tears, and my gut twisted. He wasn’t cut out for this life. Some kids grow up hungry for chaos, but this one had been starving for a place to belong.
Jameson turned to me. “What do you wanna do with him?”
The question hit harder than it should have.
I looked at the kid, sitting there, wet, shaking, eyes swollen from fear, and for a second, I saw a younger version of myself.
The one who’d run from a God-fearing mother with a belt in her hand, the one who thought the Church could save him before realizing demons live there too.
I wasn’t about to watch another lost boy end up in the dirt for someone else’s game.
I took a breath. “Kid,” I said, crouching down again, voice softening this time. “What the hell are you doin’ ridin’ with Scorpions?”
He sniffed. “Don’t have nowhere else to go. Got kicked outta my old man’s place. They found me on the streets and gave me a roof over my head, a cot, and a job. It’s not much but that’s all I wanted. A reason to breathe, you know.”
I stared at him for a long moment. “That reason you’re talkin’ about? That’s not loyalty. That’s desperation. And it’ll get you killed.”
He nodded, trembling. “Please, man. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let ‘em find me. They’ll know I’m here. They’ll kill me.”
Jameson looked at me, silent but waiting. I could tell he was gonna let me make the call.
I straightened, pulling my gloves off. “Cut him loose,” I said finally. “He’s a pawn. Croak’s the one we want.”
Hoax frowned. “Prez?”
Jameson studied me. Then, slowly, he nodded. “You, sure, Chaplain? He could go right back at it.”
“Not if I give him a job instead.”
“A job,” he looked up at me wide-eyed.
“You’re gonna play security and look out for the Royal Bastards, Josh. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll make as Prospect one day.”
“Yes, Sir. Anything. I’ll do anything.”
“That’s not how life works, kid. Don’t make yourself so available to people who will mistreat you.”
I looked over at Jameson who was eyeing me. “You realize he’s now your responsibility.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
He then turned to the kid. “If I see you fucking up our territory again…I’ll put a bullet in you myself.”
“You won’t,” his voice shook.
Scorn stepped forward, sliced the zip ties, and he stumbled out of the chair, falling to his knees. “Wait for me outside.” I spoke.
The kid bolted through the rain, his boots slipping in the mud as he disappeared into the storm.
Jameson turned to me once he was gone. “You sure you’re not gettin’ soft, Chaplain?”
“Soft’s what keeps me human,” I said, pulling out my lighter and flicking it. “Besides, we need him to lead us to Croak. Fear’s a better leash than rope.”
Hoax chuckled. “Guess the good Lord taught you somethin’ after all.”
“Not Him,” I muttered. “Learned that one from the demons I play with.”
The rain started to let up as we stepped out into the thick humidity. I signaled to Josh to get close as the rest of the brothers got into their rides and revved up their engines.
“Yes, Sir.”
“The Scorpions are shit, kid. You ride with the Bastards now, and we’re about loyalty, got it.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Stop calling me Sir. I need you to go back to your clubhouse. You’re gonna be my eyes and ears inside, kid.”
“But…”
“There’s no buts. I need to know Croak’s next move. He wants to order children around, let’s see how he does with someone his own size.”
“Yes, S…”
I sensed his hesitation and smirked. “Hellsing. You can call me Hellsing.”
“Yes, Hellsing.”
“The next time you report to me you’ll have a small room at my place and I’ll give you another job.”
“Another one?” He asked wide-eyed and hopeful.
“You’re about to play bodyguard to the witch’s store you destroyed. I want you there bright an early to help her clean that place up.”
“Yes, Sir, Hellsing.”
“Just Hellsing, kid. Now get the hell out of here.
I was about to light a smoke when my phone buzzed in my cut pocket. I wiped a hand over my face, staring at the screen when Virgil’s name flashed. I’d been waiting for this call. Dreading it too.
I answered. “Virgil.”
His voice came low, rough, and sharp. “You knew.”
I closed my eyes. “Yeah.”
“You son of a bitch,” he growled. “You knew he was back, and you didn’t think to tell me? That’s my little girl, Hellsing. My daughter.”
I started to pace. “I didn’t wanna set him off, Virgil. He’s been pushin’ at the edges, whisperin’ in my head for weeks. If I’d told you, you’d have come ridin’ straight for him, and that’s exactly what he wants.”
“You don’t get to decide that.” Virgil bit out. “That demon took everything from me once. I’m not lettin’ him take her.”
“I’m not letting him, either,” I said, voice rough. “But if you come down here, he’ll use you. He’ll get between us, and one of us ain’t walkin’ away. You know how he works; he feeds on vengeance. You show up pissed off and ready to fight, and he’ll twist it into somethin’ you can’t control.”
“You think I’m scared of him?”
“I think you’re still human,” I said. “And that’s enough for him to use.”
There was silence, just the static hum of the anger between us. Then Virgil exhaled. It was the sound of a man fighting the urge to break something.
“She’s my blood,” he said finally, voice rougher now. “I can feel him circling her, Hellsing. I’ve seen it before. You think I can just sit here and do nothin’?”
“I ain’t askin’ you to do nothin’,” I said. “I’m askin’ you to stay alive. Stay where you are, stay protected. If Bael’s crawlin’ outta Hell again, he’s gonna come for both of us. And I can’t fight him if I’m worried about covering your six too.”
He went quiet again. When he spoke, it was softer. “You really think you can keep her safe?”
“I’ll die trying,” I said. “You know I owe you that much.”
“Don’t say that” he hissed. “You die; she breaks. You understand me?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I understand.”
“Then listen to me, keep your circle tight, keep iron close. Bael’ll use anything he can from lust, fear, pain, anything to get to her. You feel him digging in again, you call me.”
“I will.”
The line went dead before I could say anything else.
I shoved the phone back into my cut and looked out toward the rain-soaked road. My hands were shaking, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from the way Bael’s laughter echoed faint in the back of my head.
She’s pretty when she’s scared, the fucker whispered. She looks just like her mother.
Dread consumed me as I realized he had found her.
That little witch takes hell as her playground and tells you nothing. What did you think, you could hide her forever? Keep her all to yourself?
I clenched my fists and swung a leg over my bike. “Watch me.”
The engine roared to life, thunder cracking overhead as I tore out of the Boneyard and back toward the city.
Whatever this demon thought he was gonna take, he’d have to go through me first.
And I was planning to send him back to hell when it came to that.