Memories Lost || Alucard X Reader

Interrogations

You were desperate for escape. You didn't want to be here, you couldn't be here. Not after what you saw. Not after the bloodstained carpets and clothing and the lifeless eyes and the way the bodies were just thrown down, treated like nothing, you couldn't stay. You were terrified, and even though you could barely force food down your mouth, even though you couldn't shove a word out your throat, they still made you stay for questioning. No matter how ready they thought you were, they were wrong, and they could tell. They tried to reassure you, they really did, but as long as you were still in Sleepy Hollow, still near Sleepy Hollow, you wouldn't feel safe.

"Y/N, I need to know what you saw so we can catch the person who did this. You're the only one who saw the crime. It has to be you." The woman said forcefully.

She was a brunette, red painted nails, blood painted nails, in the office, sitting at the desk in the chair, she was waiting so why weren't you speaking?

"I saw bodies, two bodies, a body for each neighbor, dead and gone and covered in blood.. I already said all this on the line! Blood in the carpets, blood in the clothes, the holes in their necks and the fact that they were not breathing! That's all I know!" You snapped, words flowing in a flurry of stress and anger and tiredness.

"And how did you find out about the attack?"

Too calm.

"A note on the door! The note with the blood. Writing on it. I recognized it as the neighbors and I ran over and I went into the house and I called the police and my neighbors were dead!"

She nodded. Too damn calm.

"Where were you when this happened?" She asked in a sweet, kind, infuriating voice.

"At my friend's house! I didn't kill them, my god. My- my friend had just moved and I just wanted to go see them and then go home and be done with it! I'm trying to write a book! I just wanted to see my friend.."

Your head was hurting. You didn't want to answer these questions, you had already answered for another person, another cop, or detective, or whatever. You didn't know how long you'd been there but the clock told you that it had been two hours since they first started asking you questions. Where were you, why were you, how are you, my name is, and your name is, and you're here because, and now you had a killer headache and no painkillers to numb it. You were done with this. Done with the town, the county, the country. You had nowhere to go. Except..

You called Seras as soon as you left the building. Seras Victoria, an officer from what you remembered who lived in England. Spare room, she said, take it. So you did. You took a cab home and began packing immediately, then booked a flight that left in a week. Time to pack. Time to put your life into little boxes and leave this god forsaken town. You didn't know that when you moved to England you'd be going somewhere god had truly forsaken, though.

You didn't know you'd be surrounded by the living dead.

~~~ A WEEK LATER ~~~

The plane left at ten in the morning, leaving you an hour's drive and another hour in customs before rushing to get all of your bags through. You'd found a company that would ship all of your things over a couple days after you arrived, so you took some essentials in your on-plane stuff. One handbag, one backpack, and a ticket to the airport closest to Seras' place.

The ride was long and tiring but worth it in the end. The amount of stress that disappeared after leaving was tremendous, and something you only felt once gone. Seras was going to pick you up after you landed. You went through customs, again, but no bag pick-up since everything you had you took on the plane, and then exchanged all your cash for the English currency.

You were free. A week was torture, and now it was over. Freedom.

As you walked down the large open area, part fenced off, other families trickling through to meet friends and family, you saw someone with a large sign reading "WELCOME  Y/N!!". The sign was painted with brightly colored hearts and stars, and the person was waiving at you happily.

"Y/N! Y/N! IT'S SERAS!!" She screeched, earning a few looks.

You jogged over and hugged her tightly "Quiet down, Seras, holy saints."

The drive to her house was an hour long, an hour spent catching up with each other's lives. Seras was an officer; she had joined a year ago and loved the work. You told her you were a writer, and how you had just gotten signed on a compilation of short stories, and asked her if you could use some references from her work to write one. She laughed and said you could. She was louder and happier than you remembered, laughed more than you remembered, too.

The two of you had a week of semi-calm, moving and work and all of that preventing total calm, until things became chaos. Seras left the house, full uniform at twelve at night leaving you only a note on your bedroom door. A note. Was that blood on the edge? A papercut? An attack? No, no, you shook your head hard. A hallucination. 

"Been called to Cheddar (the town, duh!) for some kinda emergency, don't know when I'll be home, check the news for me! - Seras!!"

Her handwriting was scrabbled, left on a sticky note and written in sharpie. You could only stare at the yellow paper as it fell out your hands and onto the floor. Would you lose her? Would she disappear, leaving you to ruins as soon as you arrived? You weren't even unpacked yet. She couldn't be gone.

Not now. Not here.

Not now.

~~~ THE NEXT DAY ~~~

You couldn't sleep that night. The news hit the TV by seven. Typical news story. They treated it as nothing special.

Blue, a red box with breaking news. A ginger-gold haired woman in the center, wearing a suit, her short hair let down to tumble over her shoulders. Papers shuffled in her hands, shuffling.

"This is Rachael Hotchkins on BBC News. An update on the Cheddar Killer, from the police. We've been told the killer is now dead, as well as all police sent to the town. When the killer was spotted in the town, local law enforcement was sent to arrest him - a priest, gone mad - only to be greeted by guns. The man was killed in the fire. We are sorry to those who know the officers who were killed in the firefight, and we send you our thoughts and prayers."

You let the TV drone on, too tired to turn it off, the noise of her talking buzzing in and out of your ears. Seras was gone. Dead. Disappeared. What were you going to do?

You were truly alone now.