Who's Afraid of The Big Bad Wolf?

Jubalii made the pretty cover image. :D Thank her for it! *nod*

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, Little Red Riding Hood, The Mitten, Three Little Kittens, or any of the characters used in this story. I'm just a wanna be college student trying to write a story for kicks. So don't sue, you won't get anything. :P

"Seras! Seras wake up!" A hand shook the young girl's shoulder roughly, jarring her from her illicit nap in the hay bales tucked in the back of the barn. Yawning and stretching like the kitten all the farm hands refer to her as, the little six year old blinks up at the shadowed figure who'd found her. "Mmmwhut?"

Another yawn splits her face as she stands and shakes out her red cloak that she'd been using as a blanket - the cloak was actually a good five sizes too large, as it belonged to her grandmother originally, but her mother had sewn the excess fabric in easily undone stitches to let it out as she grew, making a child -sized emblem of love - rubbing her palms into her closed eyes to banish the gritty feeling under her lids.

An impatient sigh pulls the girl's attention back to the kitchen girl giving her an exasperated look – after all, she was already ten years old; clearly the older girl's time could be spent more productively than fetching her from her naps in the hay when she was supposed to be doing her chores – "Your mother wanted me to remind you that you're to deliver a basket of bread and fruit to your grandfather in the woods today before the sun sets." A rather expectant air rolls off the older girl as she gazes at the young mistress, an eyebrow arching after a moment of the two locked in a staring contest. "…Well?"

"Well what?" Seras asked amidst another yawn, scratching at her elbow where some hay had poked her.

"Well what are you waiting for?!" The kitchen girl explodes, waving her arms furiously, "you only have an hour left before sunset, you foolish girl! Go on, shoo, do your part like the rest of us, you lazy child!" Having finished shouting her piece, the older girl turns and storms off in a huff.

Blinking owlishly at the outburst, Seras' lower lip trembles for a split second before she draws in a deep breath and follows after the more volatile female – the basket left in the kitchen to keep warm – so that she could start on her way to grandfather's cabin.

Peering around the door frame rather cautiously, Seras is met with a deep throated chuckle from the cook, "Come in Kitten, and fetch your mittens." A smile tugs at the little girl's lips and she giggles at the jibe from the grandmotherly figure. Seras had made quite a reputation for herself with misplacing her things, so the adults had taken to calling things she needed for her chores her mittens.

Darting up to the table in a brilliant flash of red, Seras carefully retrieves the basket of goodies, and turns to give the white haired woman in the chair a one armed hug, "Thanks Cookie!"

"Remember to stick to the path, and don't talk to strangers!" The cook calls out to the blur racing out the door.

Humming cheerfully, Seras skips along the cobblestone road through the woods, not scared in the slightest of the wind whispering through the trees and the shifting shadows. Nothing could hurt her on the path; that's what the grown- ups always told her, so it had to be true. Twirling around to watch her cloak flutter, the child giggles and swings her arms even more outrageously as she bounces forward. Twilight was always her favorite time to explore when everyone else was too busy tucking things away for the night to notice her missing.

Skipping closer to the very edge of the path and crouching down to stare at a bunch of pretty posies, Seras' hand shoots out to grasp a palmfull of the blooms, only to shriek in surprise as a black tendril of … something swipes at her in return. Jerking back instinctively, she squeals as she loses her balance and lands on her rump, the basket falling to the border of the cobbles and the grass of the woods. The black thing stretches out even farther and snags the handle of the basket, pulling it into the underbrush with an inhuman swiftness.

"No! That's for grandfather! Give it back! …Please?" Staring solemnly at the spot where her basket once sat, her lower lip once more begins to tremble. Sniffling in an attempt to hold back her tears, Seras pulls her legs in to cross them under the skirt of her blue and white dress, and folds her cloak more securely around her shoulders as she gazes into the trees.

"Why, Little Red Riding Hood, what's the matter?" A masculine voice calls from the woods, an almost caring note tickling at her ears enticingly.

"I've lost my basket, it's for grandfather. Mother will be very angry with me." Seras replies, a wobble to her voice as she sniffles and scrubs at her eyes with the hem of her cloak.

"A basket you say? Does it happen to look like this?" The voice queries, her basket suddenly appearing to float in mid air above the bush and between the gaps in the trees.

"Yes! That's it!" Seras cries, jumping to her feet and starting towards the edge of the path before halting and clenching her hands in her skirts as she stares at the basket, a strange expression on her little face.

"What's the matter, Little Red Riding Hood, won't you come get your basket?" The voice purrs, an unseen force jiggling the basket teasingly, and drawing it just the slightest bit backwards into the darkness of the wood.

"Mother told me to never leave the path." Seras replies seriously, a stray breeze ruffling at her cloak and pulling the hood back to reveal brilliant gold hair, cut short and spiking out adorably around her head, and large luminescent sky blue eyes.

"Your mother is a wise woman, Little Red Riding Hood, but you said she would be angry if you didn't deliver this basket of goodies to your grandfather. What would she be more concerned with, I wonder?" The voice muses, and a slight buzzing begins to build in the little girl's ears as she screws up her face in thought.

"I… I don't know." Seras replies, taking an uncertain step backwards, features pinched in concentration as she wracks her little child brain for the right answer.

'Yes you do.' A traitorous voice whispers in her mind, and she cants her head to the side curiously, face going slightly blank while listening to the strange words. 'What your mother doesn't know can't hurt you. What's the harm of taking a few steps off the path to get the basket? Then you can deliver it to grandfather and no one will ever know.'

Seras slowly nods, taking a half step forward, the voice in her head making her forget the black tendril that tried to grab her earlier.

"Yesss… Come Little Red Riding Hood, just another few feet." The voice in the woods encourages, sounding strangely similar to the one in her head. But the strangeness is whisked away by the inner voice, and her little feet take another few steps, leaving her with one foot in the grass and another on the path. Still, she hesitates, eyes flicking about in unease.

'Kitten, don't you want to get your mitten?'

Shivering, Seras' foot lifts and she stands fully in the grass for a split second before continuing up to the hedge line bordering the true depths of the wood, one little – and trembling – hand stretching out beseechingly towards the woven basket hovering just shy of her fingertips.

With another step she is flush to the prickly bush, stretching up on tip toe with wriggling fingers trying to catch a hold of the fickle treasure.

"Just a little further, Red Riding Hood, and you'll get your basket." The voice is alarmingly close – no it isn't, the voice is still a perfectly safe distance back, she should take one more step and fetch her lost mitten.

Swallowing and clenching her eyes shut, Seras breaks through the leaf barrier with a lunging step as she jumps for her basket, fingers just barely grasping the edge before a strange force jerks her a good three feet in the air and she shrieks.

"Little Red Riding Hood, you seem to have lost your way, tell me, tell me, would you like to play?" The voice growls as she stares into burning crimson orbs, basket looped once more over her arm as she dangles by her red cloak. "A game, a game, to pass the time. For if I win you'll be mine."

Two more sets of red, red eyes open and a jaw full of gleaming fangs parts wider and wider until it's easily big enough to swallow her whole.

Trembling, lips sucked in and bitten harshly into to stifle her urge to scream, Seras stares at the hellish wolf leering at her and proposing some sort of game. Inhaling sharply, and cringing at the hot metallic smell wafting out of the wolf's jaws, Seras' lower lip trembles once more as she tries to gather her courage to speak.

"Wh-…What if I win?"

The wolf's jaws click shut and his upper lip curls back in a show of fang as he wheezes in laughter, "Then, little Kitten, you'll have found your lost mitten, and you'll get your pie." The voice comes from somewhere behind the wolf's head, and she strains her little eyes to see in the unnatural dark between the trees.

"I… What kind of game?" Seras asked, voice quavering uncertainly.

"Hide and Seek."

AN: Poor little Seras, what could I have in mind for her? *crack-a-THOOM!* Bwahahahaha... You'll just have to wait and see! See you in three days, lovies.