The lost composer of London

Beloved and Frightful Memories

Of all the colors of the rainbow, red was probably Seras' least favorite at this point. It was hot and putrid, and it stuck to anything it touched. Red stuck to the halls of Hellsing Manor that she ran through. Red plastered the bodies of her fallen comrades. Red exploded out of her enemies when she fired the Hallconnen II. Red stung her eyes and burnt her skin. Seras choked on the color red.

At the same time, the Nazis imbibed red like refined treats. They were relaxing in pools of it, surrounded by eviscerated bodies and daring to communicate with each other as if they were still human beings. As if they were deserving of the title "people." Seras and the Hallconnen did not agree with this.

The first one she killed was the one drinking from a severed arm. His head popped like a smashed keyboard, which made Seras feel a little better. She bore the Hallconnen II and unloaded on the unsuspecting vampires, raining down a volley of bullets and hot shells. Her third eye discerned another group approaching from behind. They tried to serpentine around her, to confuse her vision and ambush from all sides. But the Hallconnen was too fast, and her eyes too precise, and they all came crashing down in vile chunks. She pointed a cannon to the ground and erased the last feeble attempt at a surprise attack from the floor below.

Instants of noise and quiet came and went without much pomp or ceremony. One moment Seras' attention was blinded by gunfire and screaming, the next she was alone with the bodies. The tortured expressions and eyes devoid of spirit. There was nowhere Seras could look where she wouldn't be challenged with the death of someone she knew.

"I-I'll take care of them." It was time to move. Seras needed to move. She wouldn't move.

"I'll... I'll... I'll take care of all of them!"

I'll kill all of them!
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Annabelle King blazed through the London air, trailing flames wherever she went. She stole the fires of the Nazis to expand her own fire, to feed her monster. It screeched with sick delight and tore apart the vampires that they encountered. Annabelle had kept everything she stole from Seras, but there was one thing that Seras had given willingly: Annabelle's Tamed Noise.

It was more than some simple ape or bird, and it was more controlled than Rocky's tapewyrm. This Noise was a creature of dancing form, elegant and beautiful in its sway. It had no features or defining characteristic, and to the common eye seemed like no more than a burning shape. But Annabelle saw deeper, saw into the core of her pet. Its grace in fire spoke to her, and the two understood each other in battle. And the colors it burned were pleasing to any eye, and changed depending on the fuel: open air would burn yellow, while stone burnt a deep purple. Wood and foliage lit with a pleasing green, and clothe burnt white. Flesh, especially the flesh of the undead, burnt crimson.

The ghouls plaguing the earth proved so numerous, and so utterly useless, that after less than an hour of immolation her Noise was large enough to brighten a city block, and Annabelle abandoned killing them completely. The Players could clean them up, it wouldn't be difficult. So she turned her attention to the roaming packs of vampires and found their brood more to her murderous pleasure.

She heard screaming and turned toward it without a moment's hesitation, the Noise trailing behind her. Survivors were rare and precious, and Annabelle would not let a single one die under her guard. Composer King would never abandon her subjects.

In the distance she could make out the forms of humans alighting from rooftops. They were armed, and had succeeded in killing numerous vampires. Her Players wouldn't be alone after all, that was relieving.