Hello my dears! Welcome back, and I hope you enjoyed your holidays. Here's the next installment of the story, and I want to say thank you to everyone who's still with me. My hiatus was really long, but it means a lot to me that you guys are still reading, reviewing, and favouriting. And, of course, thank you to the readers who just recently joined me on this journey- Welcome!

By the way, some of you asked me if the Commander is actually the Captain or another canon higher-up. Given the content of this chapter, I can finally answer you: The Commander is, for all intents and purposes, an original character. I didn't mix him up with the Captain. However, the Commander is not completely my own invention either. He's actually a nameless character you see for all of thirty seconds in OVA V. If any of you can guess who he is based on a snippet of dialogue in this chapter, I'll send you a cookie as a prize.

Anyway, to continue...

Maria woke up with a jolt. She shot up from her bed, clawing at the space in front of her, ready to fend off anything that tried to attack. However, there was no danger. The room was empty, and she had been dreaming.

The small space in which she awoke was illuminated by one overhead light. There were a few tables strewn about, holding an array of medical devices, from scalpels to clamps. Somewhere behind the bed, a machine was beeping, and a thick, sweet smell was rising up from the grated floor. Maria's stomach growled.

She wrapped her arms around her torso and winced. Her memories were fuzzy, and her muscles were weak, but she knew she had to leave. Mustering all her strength, Maria threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the mattress. Her cardigan and skirt were gone, replaced with a thin hospital gown.

Something humid and synthetic constricted around her arm. She glanced down and saw an IV in the crook of her elbow. The skin was bruised, with shades of blue, purple, and yellow spreading just below the surface. Her veins pulsated against the galaxy of colour, pushing the skin up and letting it fall back each time. She did not remember ever sustaining an injury with so much detail…

Maria let out a strangled cry and leapt off the bed. She yanked out the IV and threw it across the room. Droplets of saline glittered in the dim light as the tube fell. That sickly sweet smell was back again, more powerful than ever this time. Maria sniffed and looked down at her arm, the apparent source of the smell.

Blood trailed down the puncture wound, thick and dark. Maria stared, ignoring the pounding in her head and the tingling weakness in her legs. She licked her dry lips, wishing suddenly only for something to eat. No, that wasn't right. The thought of bread and meat was not appealing at the moment. In fact, she was thirsty…

Maria's head jerked up, her mouth falling open as memories flashed before her eyes: The grinning face of the Commander, the glare of the Doctor's glasses, the shadow of the anaesthetic mask. A wave of dread crashed over her. She rushed to the other side of the room, where a two-way mirror sat waiting to be looked in.

Although there was not much light, Maria could see her reflection clearly. In fact, it was almost as if she could see herself better out of the light. She looked as she always did, with her brown hair, green eyes, and sturdy figure. Still, something was not right. She had been tired before, but she never looked this pale. Fearing the worst, she brought her face up to the glass and pulled her lips back over her teeth.

A horrified screech cut through the quiet, stretching out into an unending wail. The creature in the mirror leaned over, its mouth wide open to reveal two rows of sharp teeth. The sight made Maria scream louder. She hung her head and clutched her sides, bellowing out her grief. Tears sprang to her eyes as her keening turned to hysterical sobbing. She could practically feel the ground shake as her world crashed around her. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening to her.

"Ah, fraulein, you should have waited for me to take out your IV."

Maria spun around to see the Doctor standing in the doorway. Volkenrath peered into the room from behind him, a delighted grin creeping onto his face.

"Mostro!" Maria screamed, choking on her tears. "What have you done to me? What have you done!?"

"Liebling, calm yourself."

Volkenrath strode past the Doctor and approached Maria. The elated gleam in his eyes was gone, temporarily masked by the need to quiet Maria down. She recoiled for him, practically jumping to the other side of the room. The speed at which she did this disoriented and frightened her.

"Do not come near me!" she wailed. "You did this! Look at me!" She pointed to her canines. "Look at my teeth!"

"Maria, that is normal," the Commander cooed. "You will get used to it. You need them to-"

"No, I do not need this!" Maria pressed herself against the rust-covered wall, sliding away from her grandfather. "I did not ask for you to turn me into a monster!"

Volkenrath's mouth fell open, and for a moment, he looked genuinely confused. "You say that as if it is a tragedy. Herr Doctor has worked for hours to give you a wonderful gift! How old are you? Twenty-three, maybe twenty-four? You will never age beyond that, my dear. You will never lose your looks, your mobility, your life…"

Maria shook her head, refusing to believe anything he said. This was a disaster. She was in the company of madmen, and they had turned her into a vampire. The very process by which it had happened was unnatural: She had not been bitten, and she did not experience a physical death. She was an artificial monster with a human face.

The room swayed, and the corners of Maria's vision grew blurry. Volkenrath let out a yell and caught her before she could topple over.

"Get her back in bed," she heard the Doctor saying. "She's too weak to be exerting herself like this. She needs blood."

Maria's head snapped up. She turned just in time to see the Doctor leaving the room, his strides long and urgent. Volkenrath steered her back towards the bed, though Maria's eyes stayed on the door.

"Sit down, granddaughter." He positioned himself between Maria and the exit. She did as she was told, staring past the Commander and trying to comprehend what the Doctor said.

"Where has he left for?"

"You need to gain your strength back," Volkenrath said, apparently not hearing her. "You had a long operation, and there isn't much time before we reach England."

Maria wanted to shake her head, but she was afraid she would be sick. The Commander's words echoed through her mind, back to something he said before the Doctor and his men dragged her off: "If you are to stay with me, then you must fight…"

"I cannot do this," she muttered. "Commander… Grandfather…I am no soldier. I cannot fight."

He knelt down to her eye level, bending to catch her gaze. His face was taut, and his eyes danced with some kind of emotion that was equal parts relief and concern. The look suggested Maria's use of the word 'grandfather' had pleased him.

"Of course you can fight," he said. "You are my granddaughter. We are born soldiers- Now don't look at me like that. It is in your genes, Liebling. Besides, now that the Doctor is finished with you, you have an entire arsenal of otherworldly powers at your disposal. I know you may not believe it now, but trust me. Once you get something in your stomach, you will feel better."

Words of denial sat on the tipoff her tongue, but the door swung open before Maria could voice them. The Doctor was back, and he had brought someone with him: A small, mustachioed man in a grey jumpsuit. The Doctor pushed the man into the room and blocked the exit, his squared shoulders nearly touching either side of the doorjamb. The man- Maria guessed by his uniform that he was a maintenance worker- glanced around the room before finally noticing Volkenrath.

"Commander!" He stood at attention and saluted. "Herr Doctor said you wished to see me?"

Volkenrath grinned, his teeth poking out over his lips. "Yes, Muller. I would like to introduce you to the newest member of my Waffen-SS division: My granddaughter, Maria."

Muller looked at the young woman and raised his eyebrows. Countless questions passed over his face, but he stayed silent. Instead, he gave her an uncertain smile and said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Fraulein Volkenrath."

Maria ignored him and looked at her grandfather. He was still smiling, but there was something nefarious about his expression. That grin looked like the kind that lunatics wore before they did something outlandish or violent…

"Our very talented Doctor just finished with her."

"Happy news, Commander!"

"Yes, very happy indeed." Volkenrath approached Muller, his monstrous height dwarfing both him and Maria. "My dear Enkelin has just woken up, though, and she hasn't had anything to eat since leaving England."

At these words, Muller's face fell, and his eyes bugged out of his head. "C-Commander…?"

That grin broadened, like a great crack in a frozen lake. "You understand, Muller, that Maria will be fighting in the battle tonight… For the glory of the Last Battalion and our dear Major himself. She needs her strength."

The man's mouth fell open, but he could only stammer over half-formed German phrases. Maria watched in horror as Muller's entire body began to shake, almost wincing when she heard the Doctor chuckle from the doorway. She leapt off the bed.

"Commander- Uh, Opa, don't-!"

The Commander paid her no heed. He turned and slashed the man's throat open, his claws glimmering in the overhead lamp. A spray of blood splashed onto Maria, staining her gown and painting her cheeks.

She watched Muller fall, though she barely heard him hit the ground. His entire body convulsed, his grey jumpsuit turning wine red. His gushing neck created a puddle on the floor beneath his head. It inched towards Maria, inviting. She forgot her horror for a moment and stared at her reflection in the dark pool. Her stomach rumbled again, and her mouth salivated.

"Go on," the Doctor said. "We haven't got all night."

Maria picked her gaze up from the immobile Muller and glanced at the two men.

"Don't be shy, Liebling," Volkenrath murmured. "There's more where that came from."

Somewhere deep down, Maria knew this was beyond wrong. This was evil. What she had become, what the Commander and the Doctor were asking of her, was truly the work of the one she knew as the Adversary.

And yet, as she tried to comprehend the inhumanity of her situation, she could not deny that she was hungry. It was a painful, burning hunger-thirst that cried out to be satisfied. The stranger's blood that covered her gown and face was warm and sweet-smelling. That primal instinct cried louder than any human dignity she retained.

Maria closed her eyes and licked her lips. The blood oozed over her tongue, warm and wet. It was only a droplet, but Maria's mouth was filled with the most savoury flavour she had ever tasted. It shattered the last of her resolve, and before she knew what she was doing, she was on knees, tearing at the mangled flesh of Muller's neck.

His skin gave way easily, separating under her teeth like well-cooked game. The veins burst, spurting blood down her throat and fuelling her hunger. Forgetting herself, Maria tore at the corpse, drinking its blood, biting down hard into the meat. Somewhere off to the side, Volkenrath gave her words of praise and encouragement.

She did not know how long she knelt on the floor, cannibalising Muller. Time was inconsequential when she was so hungry. She gorged herself on the body until her stomach began to ache in a different way. When she sat up and saw the Doctor was no where in sight, she was glad. If she was going to vomit up her dinner, she did not want him around to see.

The longer she sat there, the more Maria began to realize what she had done. She looked at Muller, trying to remember if he was that torn up before she…

Maria looked down at her hands. They were stained red, the sides crusted brown with dried blood. Strips of human flesh were wedged under her fingernails, and her mouth was filled with a salty-sweet aftertaste.

She made herself look at the human she devoured. She wanted to throw back her head and scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beg someone to kill her for the grave sin she just committed against her fellow man. But, she could not do any of that. There was a congealed lump of filth in her stomach that weighed her down. She could not move, let alone remember how to speak.

"Maria." A pair of hands came down on her shoulders. "I am so proud of you."

The Commander gave her a little pat. Maria imaged herself turning around and scratching his throat open.

"Don't concern yourself with him," he continued. "Muller here has been suspected of defeatism for a while, now. If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else. Besides…" His voice dropped an octave lower. "It gets easier each time. Trust me, dear."

Maria's stomach churned again. A dribble of blood ran down her chin. She swallowed down hard, wincing as her mouth began to water in warning.

"Come now." She was being lifted by the crook of her elbow. "There's not much time. We'll be arriving in London soon, and you're not even dressed yet."

She should have felt more scared. The back of her gown was open, she was covered in blood, and she was being led to an unknown destination. And still, Maria could not find the will to care. What did it matter anymore? She had just consumed the blood with the meat, and the blood was the life.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

An hour later, Maria found herself on the main deck of the Deus Ex Machina. She was stationed at the back of the room, standing shoulder to shoulder with fiends out of one of her nightmares.

The soldiers were all vampires. Each one had pale skin, rows of sharp teeth, and a murderous gleam in his otherwise dead eyes. They were in full battle regalia, and Maria looked just like them: Long overcoat, scuffed combat boots, and a helmet that was too large for her. A Waffen-SS patch was sewn onto her right shoulder pad, and a modified MP40 hung off her left. Although the Commander had shown her how to use the gun earlier, she could not remember a single thing he told her. All she could think about now was the fact that she was a vampire, and she was going to be forced into battle.

No one noticed her distress, though. Their attention was on the man at the front of the room. The Major was giving his final instructions to the assembly of monsters.

"It is time for us to open the floodgates of war!"

Maria pressed her lips into a thin line and swallowed. Her stomach had not stopped hurting since she fed on Muller. She feared that she was going to literally be sick with worry.

"Our first target shall be the city of London: The west bank of the Thames, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, 10 Downing Street, the Ministry of Defence, Buckingham Palace…"

She squeezed the strap of her MP40. The weapon's cartridge rattled. They were floating above the places the Major was listing off, and Maria could not help but to picture all of the unsuspecting civilians, simply going about their daily lives. They did not know it was all going to be taken away from them in a matter of moments.

"… Go forth and destroy everything that you see," the Major continued. "Devour everyone you meet. Feast and imbibe until your hearts content. This mighty capital of eight million souls are nothing but our supper."

Maria's stomach churned dangerously. She bit the inside of her cheek, drawing blood. She was going to be taken out of the zeppelin and marched through the streets of London to commit murder. There was no way out of this. Not even God could help her now. Clearly, He had abandoned her to the mercy of her monstrous grandfather and his twisted superiors.

The Major rose from his seat, just as a soldier approached him with something in his hands. Maria craned her neck to see it was a tray with a single glass of Champaign balanced upon it.

"Come, gentlemen! It is time for us to kill and be killed, to give unt receive death! Now is the occasion, for tonight is a feast, the likes of which has never been seen before."

A low whir sounded from somewhere below deck. The floor vibrated, shaking Maria up through her boots and into her helmet. She swallowed again, staring up at the Major and clenching her jaw. Another wave of nausea roiled in her stomach.

The Major gave a little snicker and raised his glass. "Prost!"

The assembled soldiers mimicked him, holding up drinks Maria did not even realize they had. Their leader's words echoed through the room.

A blast erupted from beneath Maria's feet. It shook the television screens and resonated through to the back of the room. The Major let go of his drink.

And just as the glass shattered on the floor, Maria doubled over and threw up on her boots.

A few soldiers leapt away from her as she sputtered and choked. Someone grumbled about the partly digested meat on their pants. A few chuckled and slapped her on the back, encouraging her through "first time nerves." Not long after, someone grabbed her arm and tried to move her away from the mess.

"There, there, Liebling, it's all right," the Commander assured her. "You have nothing to fear. Rather, your enemies should fear you."

Before the humiliation of what just happened could fully sink in, Maria was led away. Dozens of soldiers followed her path, heading down a short flight of stairs and through a door that read Ausfahrt over it. Volkenrath pushed her through and steered her down a dizzying, ill-lit maze of rusted grating, narrow stairs, and hairpin turns. Soldiers waded through the chaos, shouting to each other in German. Every so often, a gauge would hiss and shoot steam out at the passersby. Even more worrisome, blasts like the one that had shot Maria's nerves continued. The zeppelin would recoil and shudder every time it happened.

Maria held tightly onto Volkenrath's arm. There was nothing else she could do. She could not run or hide. She could not fight him or his squadron by herself. Calling for help was not even an option anymore. All she could do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

That was until she caught a glimpse of the city below.

Volkenrath led her past a wide viewing bay when her apathy was finally shattered. When she saw the shock of red out the window, she pulled her arm from the Commander's grasp and pressed her face to the glass. Fire and destruction spanned as far as she could see. Thick black smoke blotted out the moon, and a flaming swastika blazed in the city center. Maria saw the wretched display and screamed.

"The city! My god, it is destroyed!" She whirled around and looked at her grandfather. "Have you no pity in your heart? Look what you have done! Think of all of the people…"

Volkenrath was not listening. In fact, he was not even looking at her. His eyes saw through her, past the glass and into the ravaged metropolis that was once London. The far-reaching flames cast eerie shadows on his face, though his eyes blazed with some kind of sick euphoria. It was the look of a man who was drunk, intoxicated by his vice of choice.

"Yes… Look, indeed."

He wrapped his arm around Maria's shoulder and pulled her against him in a one-arm hug. He smelled of blood and cigarette smoke. Maria wanted to pull away, but she was too frightened to move.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the Commander murmured. "Like a twilight view of hell. Below us is the only place that is fit for monsters such as us. It is the only place we would wish to be…"

The other SS soldiers had joined them by the window. Their mouths were open in wolfish smiles, their eyes gleaming with the same drunken anticipation as Volkenrath's. Maria was unsure whether to fear them or hate them.

Before she was forced to listen to her grandfather any further, an unseen intercom crackled to life with new instructions.

"Commence ground combat operation; deploy paratroopers."

"Here we go, you verdammte schweine." The Commander's fingers dug into her skin. "Off to war!"

As the soldiers hurried to their stations, he took Maria away from the window and hassled her into another room. There, the whistling and clanking of machinery was deafening. It was too dark to see, and there were too many things happening at once. Someone wrapped a harness around Maria's torso. Another pulled her gun off her shoulder and handed it to Volkenrath. Somewhere in the chaos, a warm breeze hit her face. It reeked of sulphur and did nothing to cool the burning of her cheeks. Instead, she pulled her mask up over her nose and held her breath.

As the Commander shouted orders at his troops, Maria tried to locate the source of the stench. Something glowed red from across the deck, and a moment passed before she realized she was looking at the sky outside. A hatch had opened to let the foul night in, and from her vantage point, she could see scores of soldiers leaping out.

Volkenrath had her by the arm again, as if he was frightened she would run away if he lost contact for too long. She let him lead her, but before long, she realized she was approaching the opening with him. Her knees shook as they neared the hatch, which looked to her like the mouth of hell.

"Do not take me there!" she cried. "Please, I do not want to go there!"

A sharp pain shot through her arm. She skidded to a halt with a yell, falling silent as soon as Volkenrath's face appeared before hers. He had reined her into a full stop and was now standing over her, his fangs bared and his eyes wild.

"Enough!" he snarled. "I will not have my own grandchild dishonour me with cowardice. This is your opportunity to make something of yourself, Maria. This is not only the Major's legacy, but mine and yours. Are you going to face the battle like a woman or hide like a child? If I'm to lose my only living descendant tonight, I want her to die fighting for her family and her country. Your mother disappointed me once, and I refuse to be humiliated again."

Maria gaped at him, frozen under his maniacal gaze. Did he really believe that Millennium was her legacy? That Nazism was her heritage? She would never accept that. Even if it was only in the privacy of her mind, she refused to acknowledge this man and his ilk as part of her. If she died tonight, it would not be in Millennium's name. She would not let it be so.

As soon as he was done his diatribe, the Commander turned her around and pushed her onto a nearby platform that faced the yawning maw of the hatch. There were two parallel tracks that led to nowhere, sticking out of the opening. Maria looked down and discovered her feet were placed on either track, her feet waiting to be strapped into the mechanical device that would launch her into the night.

She made a move to jump off the tracks, but she ended up falling against Volkenrath's chest. Before she could gather herself, he was pressed up against her, fastening his harness to hers. Maria knew what was happening, but she was powerless to stop it. Though primal warnings blared in her mind, she found she was paralyzed.

"Now, hang on tight," Volkenrath said in her ear. "Here we go, in drei… zwei… eins…"

On her grandfather's countdown, the device activated and launched them up the gangway. Maria barely felt her feet leave the tracks before she found herself in the red and black sky, freefalling into the hellfire below.

Her screams were lost in the night. The whooshing air in her ears deafened her, but she felt her terror in her voice. Her throat burned, the vocal chords straining to handle her panic. Maria's knuckles ached as she squeezed her fingers around the straps of her vest. The sharp descent forced her head back, and she heard the Commander snarl as she smacked her helmet into his teeth.

Her feet flailed, scrambling for purchase. Nothing but the air met her soles. The desecrated world beneath her spiralled out, dizzying. If she had not done so earlier, she would certainly have been sick in the middle of her skydive.

"Maria! Maria!" Volkenrath was screaming in her ear again. "Hold still! You're going to make us crash into the others!"

Even in her immense terror, his words gave her something to hold onto. She grasped at them and tried to calm down. It was not long before she realized that, despite being airborne, they were quite stable. Once she stopped kicking, Maria and Volkenrath glided smoothly through the air, bodies upright and feet pointed towards the earth. Around them, other paratroopers floated down, their coattails flapping in the wind. It was a surreal sight, and for a moment, Maria wondered if she was really just dreaming this entire night.

Her momentary calm was broken when she looked down. Stretched out below, like a great black snake, was the River Thames. Seeing her feet dangle over its churning waters, where the fiery cityscape blazed in its reflection, ignited her fear once again.

"Non, per favore! Not the fiume!" She thrashed about again. "Please, Opa, not the river! I cannot swim!"

She learned many things at Saint Ferdinand's, but swimming was not one of them. In fact, Maria had always had a bit of apprehension about deep water. The prospect of landing in the Thames with a Nazi strapped to her back horrified her.

"Fear not, Liebling!" the Commander called. "We are not headed for the river. That" – he pointed ahead, where the ruined Parliament buildings lay crumbled in the foreground – "That is where all the fun is!"

Before long, the parachute exploded over their heads, and the Commander guided them over the Thames. As she drew closer to the hellfire, Maria began to reconsider drowning in the water. She could feel the heat of the flames, even miles away in the sky. The sounds of desperation and panic soon assaulted her ears. Men and women screaming, V-1s exploding, buildings tumbling down, glass breaking. Her fellow paratroopers whooped in delight, shouting things to each other that she did not understand. She took it all in as a spectator, still unable to believe she was truly a part of this madness.

When her foot touched solid ground, she nearly fell over. The Commander caught her in time and made quick work of unfastening her harness, giving her enough time to take in her new surroundings: A deserted road, where a house fire raged some feet away, and broken glass from a nearby shop littered the ground. A handful of Volkenrath's troops landed around them, touching down gracefully onto the road. They sloughed off their parachutes and readied their guns, turning to their superior for instructions.

The MP40 that had been confiscated earlier was thrust back into Maria's hands. She held it awkwardly as her grandfather turned to address the company.

"Well, comrades, you heard the Major!" His teeth flashed in the firelight. "We'll head to the city center. Leave nothing but death and destruction in your wake. Now, gehen wir!"

The soldiers cheered, and the Commander turned on his heel. He swung his arm around in a beckoning gesture, and let loose a wordless cry. He bent at the knee and took off running without anymore ceremony. Like well-trained dogs, the Nazis shot after him, kicking up dust as they went.

With precious little option, Maria followed. Surprisingly, she was able to catch up and stay in the middle of the pack. She, who never exercised, miraculously had the stamina of an Olympian. For one glorious moment, Maria forgot her terrible situation and marvelled at her new ability.

The enchantment did not last long. Her squadron soon happened upon a handful of terrified civilians, who were trying to escape the warzone. Gunfire sounded in all directions, and the sickening squelch of the bullets hitting their mark reached Maria's ears. It reminded her of the sound of Irene's death, when she unsuspectingly opened their door to a pair of vampires…

Maria screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. Now was not the time to dwell on that. She had to fight. She had to survive. If she stood there doing nothing, surely her grandfather would unleash the full extent of his temper upon her.

She tilted up the nose of her MP40 and shot over the Nazis' heads. The din of gunfire was so great her own shots were lost in the cacophony. Hopefully, no one would notice her intentionally poor aim either.

When all of the civilians in a five-meter range were shot down, Maria expected her squadron to move on and find some other poor souls to torment. Instead, she watched as her grandfather pulled his mask down from over his nose and grab the nearest victim. To her horror, the man was still kicking. Without so much as a moment's hesitation, the Commander's jaws closed over his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, igniting the others' thirst. A few descended on the hapless humans to feed, and another handful opted to chase down the stragglers.

Maria watched, gun in hand, unsure of what to do. Everywhere she turned, there was death, carnage, and evil. For a long second, she felt the urge to throw down her weapon, sit on the ground, and cry into her hands. In these most terrible of times, she wanted nothing more than for Alucard to come rescue her, like he had done so many times before. He would not be happy to see her like this. She knew that if he ever got his hands on the Doctor, he would tear him limb from limb for what he did. And then, he would find the Commander and impale him on the nearest flag pole, just for good measure.

As quickly as the fantasy came, though, it disappeared. A leaden sense of reality seeped into her bones and weighed down her head, so that it was secured firmly to her shoulders. She had to stop thinking like this. She was in grave danger, and London was currently under siege. Alucard would not be able to save her this time. She did not yet know how, but she had to find a way to rescue herself.

A quick disclaimer about some of the dialogue: Whenever the canon characters throw random German expressions into their speech, I can't always tell what they're saying, unless it's super obvious. I'm pretty sure the Major said "Prost" ("cheers") when addressing the soldiers, but I only took an educated guess with the Commander's "verdammte schweine" ("goddamn pigs"). If that isn't what they said and you know it, please tell me! I don't speak German, and the Google machine can only take me so far

I hope you guys enjoyed it! See you next time :)