Having resigned herself to the fact that she'd be unable to get a smoke in for now, Hellsing strode through the hallway leading to the theater, her hair and the tail of her long-coat flapping as she ignored the still-burning remnants of one of the now-destroyed paintings.

To her annoyance, the door she arrived at had been jammed half-open by the last entrant. Readying her Sig-Sauer, she leaned back a little before repeatedly ramming her left shoulder into the door, eventually forcing it open after a few (painful) blows. Stalking into the auditorium, the first sight she was immediately confronted with was an armoured being who seemed to be either gleefully or urgently tearing through the seats.    

[i]What the hell is that thing doing?![/i]

Without thinking, Hellsing aimed at the metallic construct's 'head', gritted her teeth into a half-snarl and proceeded to discharge the magazine's contents.