Be Careful When Handling Wolves, Young Man.

Don't You Go Get Bitten, Young Man.

It's Always Painful.

《《《《《《~~~~~~~~》》》》》》

Y/N L/N finally cut through the cord holding his arms behind his back. He broke through the walls of the Project F. containment cell and made for the exit. Thanks to his enhanced strength, he easily threw anyone and everyone out of his way. As he ran, he barreled into a woman holding a musket, shoving her hard into the wall to disorient her. Her body left a decent crater in the brick structure, cracks spiderwebbing from behind her back. Her gasp of pain brought him little satisfaction, however, hellbent on one goal. The window, he just needed to make it to the-

"FUCK!" Not only was it reinforced enough to resist shattering and merely crack at his attempted escape, it was littered with shards of silver flakes small enough to not be seen. The pain was unbearable but he couldn't stop. He had to get out. With a haymaker thrown at the window, it buckled and shattered, the silver digging into his skin further and burned his hands more than any fire ever could. Instead of succumbing to the pain and dropping to his knees in defeat; he poured himself, heart and soul, into his efforts. Anything less than success was an impossible concept in his eyes. His goal was pure survival, and nothing was stronger than the base instincts of fight or flight. Well, maybe the rational thought helping him escape was a tad more powerful. The few screams of anger from the window he had just lept out of were fading fast. The river would carry him far enough away to completely vanish. He spent the last of his energy keeping afloat among the rapids, washing up unconscious on a dark river bank...

Y/N woke up to the sounds of howling, snarls, and the hum of nightlife. The water soaking his clothes made it feel like he was wearing an extra ton. Each gasp of air was followed by intense fits of coughing as he emptied his lungs of water and began breathing properly. He wasn't sure how long he was out, but it seemed like it was only a few hours. The moon still hung in the sky, despite the sun beginning to rise to the east. Speaking of east, it looked like a city of some kind. He stood up shakily, knowing that he was running on fumes. He could feel his body ache, the muscles tearing apart as they begged for rest. But the prospect of society, a nice meal, and a soft bed pushed him onward, staggering into town and collapsing in front of a diner. He decided he would rest there until the store owner kicked him off or invited him in. Luckily it was the latter and he received a full-course meal on the house. The way he ate was a reflection of what was done to him. He wolfed it down without even using utensils and this realization caused him to stop and stare down at the plate quietly.

"What? What's the matter? Is the food bad?! Damnit, Francine, I told you to add the- h-hey, why are you...?" Y/N merely covered his mouth, not bothering with the tears streaming from his eyes as he suppressed a sob. The idea that he had become a feral beast, exactly what they had wanted him to be, burned itself into his mind and he felt himself being stripped even further of his humanity.

"I can't believe this is the result... Thank you for the food, I just... it's been a long time..." he mumbled, trying to relearn how to hold a fork and knife.

"Wait, were you embarrassed by not knowing how to use the fork and knife? Please, the way you looked it was like you hadn't seen a proper meal in weeks!" The young man ate quickly, shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could and guzzling water down whenever he got caught on a bite too big to swallow properly.

"Again, thank you for the food. I'll... see you around..." Y/N sighed, getting up and leaving. The two girls were speechless.

The following weeks were hell. He had to find a way to and then pick out the metal in his skin, rest for days just to recover, and hide from just about everyone. He looked like a murder hobo.

♤♤♤

"Alucard, who is this man?" the young woman asked, gesturing to Y/N. The young man shifted his attention to her and introduced himself.

"I'm Y/N L/N. Test subject and last survivor of a project to create a werewolf that could fuck him over," he said, cracking his knuckles before gesturing to Alucard.

"Watch your tongue, mutt," Alucard hissed. Y/N immediately growled back.

"Maybe when you hold some authority over me, old lamprey," he shot.

"Enough, both of you! Now, why did you bring him here?" The blond woman asked her subordinate. Alucard's grin widened to reveal those pearly white fangs.

"He might have information about Millennium. He says he escaped from them." The air in the room seemed to thicken as Y/N and the woman both seemed to grow tense at the name. The werewolf was baring his teeth at the name while she had been surprised.

"What exactly happened?" Y/N simply took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Some Nazi bastards calling themselves Millennium managed to kidnap my entire town. An entire town. They used us as slave labor, experiments, and eventually killed everyone off and turned me into a werewolf using their own. Quiet asshole named Hans. I even had to deal with two of their artificial vampires, Rip Van Winkle and Zorin Blitz. Both tried their own ways to brainwash me into being Millennium's perfect little-"

"Was it that traumatizing? That even just talking about it gives you the anger to clench your fists enough to draw blood?" Y/N looked up in surprise.

"I was... Whatever. What do you care?" he asked coldly, scratching the scar where his implant had been.

"They put a chip into you as well?" the woman asked.

"How did you-" Y/N began.

"We've been fighting Millenium for a few months now and we've noticed several implants in vampires that have begun showing up recently. It appears to be some kind of tracking and informative device. I'm sure you removed yours for that very reason. For now, get some rest. We'll have Walter show you your room and a woman by the name of Seras Victoria will be accompanying you during your rest for a limited time to help you adjust. My name is Sir Integra Wingates Fairbrook Hellsing. And from now on, you'll be in my care," the woman said, her face softening a bit from when we were first introduced to each other.

"I don't need you giving me such a pitiful look... but.. thanks for reminding me what it's like to have a place to stay," Y/N said, walking out and closing the door. He saw the butler, who he assumed was named Walter.

"Are you alright? You still seem quite angry," Walter attempted to make some conversation as he lead the werewolf to his room.

"Livid. I know revenge shouldn't be my goal, but-" The old man's gentle hand had a firm grip on Y/N's shoulder.

"We're not asking you to put aside your emotions. In fact, the more you want to kill them the better. We will have to eventually. Especially after their attack on this very building. Ah, it seems we've reached your room. Please ask if you need anything. Training will begin next week," Walter said, gesturing into the room. Stepping in, the young adult shook his head as the door was closed behind him.

"No, training begins now," he muttered, pulling off his shirt and throwing it onto the bed and getting down onto the ground. Push-ups lasted for half an hour, followed by squats, handstands, anything that could give him any kind of work out. Each exercise was practiced to failure, to test himself. Find your limits and shatter them. But right in the middle of stretching, the door opened and just swung inward. There was a blond girl standing in the doorway, her figure leaving her drop-dead gorgeous below the neck. She had a beautiful face as well, her piercing crimson eyes wide as her face became a similar color. Y/N merely looked back up at her. They stared at each other until the werewolf couldn't stand being simply stared at.

"So are you just going to stand there like some moron or introduce yourself?" Y/N asked as he sat up, taking a break.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I shouldn't be staring! My name is Seras Victoria but Master insists on calling me police girl... Please don't use that name!"

"Y/N," was all he said, turning back to his stretches.

"What do you want? More ex-" he began, biting the inside of his cheek. He growled to himself and shook his head.

"More what?" Seras asked curiously, uninformed on the situation as of yet.

"It's best you don't ask. Now why are you here?" Vincent asked, biting back his emotion. Now wasn't the time to act on it and there was no one in the entire building that had done him wrong as of yet.

"Oh, I came by to introduce myself. Get to know my new partner, you know?" Seras asked, turning away slightly with a slightly less flushed face. Y/N thought about it for a moment. These people were far more open about their intent than Millennium was. Perhaps, he could at least trust them with who he is. It's not like there's anyone left, after all...

"I used to live in a small town in Kentucky, just a bit south from the Appalachian mountains. I still remember the time my dad first took me hunting out there. Thirty-odd-six kicks like a bitch... Sad to think he's gone, like everyone else..." he muttered, clenching his fists. Seras was surprised to hear such blatant cursing but did her best to not pay it any mind.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." Seras replied, taking a seat on the bed. Y/N sighed.

"No use complaining about it. I can be sad when I finally put the fucksticks in the ground. At least then I won't have to keep going with the knowledge that I was too weak," he said bitterly, the anger and hate welling up fast.

"I swear, when I get my hands on that Van Winkle cunt, I'm gonna-" he began, stopping when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand. Let's just- Oh, right! Dinner! That should be soon! Maybe I can show you around afterwards and introduce you to everyone!" Seras exclaimed.

"... Sure," Y/N said with a slight smile.