This story contains subject matter that may be unsuitable for younger teenage readers. I believe that some of the content in this story warrants an 'M' rating, but given that many of you have read the manga and/or watched the anime, which are intended for mature audiences, you are aware of what may appear in Hellsing fanfiction. As such, I have rated this story 'T' with the belief that I am writing for an audience of older teens and up (those I consider to constitute a mature audience). Please let me know if you have any concerns with the current rating!

Read, review, and enjoy! :)

I do not own Hellsing.

Amelia swept out the remaining leaves that had blown in to the small produce store in Hague. It was almost the middle of October, and in her opinion, too cold outside for the doors to remain propped open.

The wind had picked up around five o'clock, and the leaves that she had just removed from the wooden floor threatened to roll back in. Fumbling with the broom, she moved forward to quickly shut the doors before her cleaning job was extended.

She let out a relieved sigh. Forget what Mr. Richards says. If I don't close the doors I'll be cleaning this floor until tomorrow morning.

"Miss Seward." Amelia spun at the voice behind her. "I didn't know you were still here." The store's short and elderly owner came out from the storage room that also served as his office.

"Mr. Richards, I just finished cleaning. Is there something you need?" Amelia placed the broom back in its usual spot by the cash register before straightening to await her employer's reply.

"I was planning on locking up early, but you're still here." Mr. Richards' mouth was hidden by a large white mustache, but the wrinkles on his face suggested he was smiling.

"I can lock up, if you have somewhere to go," she assured him, untying the apron around her waist.

Mr. Richards adjusted the scarf around his neck and shuffled to the door. "If you wouldn't mind… My son's visiting from London, and Sherry says that I'd better be home for dinner if I want to eat tonight." He chuckled and Amelia smiled. "I heard you sent in your essay and test results to the university; have you heard back from them yet?"

She shook her head. "I won't hear anything for a few more weeks."

The old man nodded and waved, pushing open the front doors. "Have a nice night."

"You too." The front door closed behind him with a soft click.

Folding her apron and putting it on an empty shelf under the counter, she checked to make sure the rear door was bolted. Satisfied, she pulled on her coat and strode to the front doors, giving one last glance over the store's interior before stepping out into the autumn gale and locking the doors.

The sun had already dipped below the horizon some time ago, and if she didn't hurry, it would be completely dark before she got home. On most days she left the store before the sun began to set, but the tomato stand had collapsed and she needed to clean up the stains and find another place to put the vegetables before continuing her final sweep. Considering the store was older than her, it was a surprise the other stands had not yet collapsed.

The wind pushed her dark brown hair back from her face, and she hunched her shoulders and folded her arms over her chest in an attempt to stay warm. "I should have brought my hat with me. My mistake for trusting the weatherman," she chuckled mirthlessly.

Something crunched in the dry leaves behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. The road was empty; the few stores that made up the small town had their lights off. No one actually lived in 'downtown' Hague. All residents stayed in small houses spread throughout the wooded landscape.

The stories her father had told when she was young, of vampires and other nocturnal monsters, came to mind as she made her way down the dirt road exiting the town, skeletal tree branches reaching for her on the left and right.

"Oh, rubbish," she reminded herself softly. "Father was always one to believe in crazy stories, going on about that vampire nonsense." Shrugging off the noise, she picked up the pace and continued on her way.

The sound of crackling leaves continued after she was surrounded by trees. It must be wolves. Who else would be out in this crazy weather? Again she looked over her shoulder to see nothing. It was possible they were hiding amongst the trees.

Facing forward, she noticed someone coming over the hill. A long cloak billowed around the bulky frame of a man while a hood hid his face.

Looks like a man – a very suspicious man at that. Amelia kept her head down, but her eyes on the man. Growing up in such a small town, she knew the name and appearance of every person, and this man she did not recognize.

She uncrossed her arms as they drew closer to one another, ready to react if he gave her trouble. It was more than self-preservation that fueled her actions. Along with timidity, her father had also passed on his social anxiety. Then again, it was because of her father's nervousness around others and later paranoia that she had been made to learn self-defense.

The hooded man was close enough that he could speak to her without yelling to be heard…

A couple meters away now…

Shoulder to shoulder…

He passed her…

The sound of his footsteps changed, and Amelia spun around as the man launched himself at her. When he grabbed her by the biceps, she instinctively swung her foot up between his legs with all her might. Her sneaker connected and the man doubled over, swearing loudly as his grip loosened. Intending to make him release her entirely, she moved her arms down and brought her knee up to his face.

"Ah!" Her knee cap connected with something hard – a mask maybe? – and her attacker fell forward.

"Shoot, you idiot!" The hooded man spoke with a German accent, his voice slightly muffled by whatever was covering his face.

Oh, God, he's not alone! Someone has a gun! She ran as fast as her legs could manage, her first few steps shaky from the pain in her knee. But fear quickly overruled the pain as she made serpentine turns down the road, hoping the maneuver would prevent her from being hit by bullets or whatever might be fired at her.

A gunshot rang out above the howling wind, and something grazed the shoulder of her coat. The gunfire sounded from the left, so she needed to head in the opposite direction.

She veered to the right and off into the forest, another gunshot ringing behind her, and she ducked as something cracked against the tree trunk beside her. A second later it occurred to her that there could be someone waiting to shoot her from this area of the forest as well. No, it's too late. Keep going. These people are armed and trying to hurt you, but you've lived here for almost your entire life – you know the landscape better than they do!

Weaving around trees, she continued running with no destination in mind but away from the danger.

Clive Richards stepped onto the back porch of his parents' house and lit his cigarette, turning his back to the wind. His mother refused to let him smoke in the house, and his father had yet to arrive. He should be able to get one quick smoke in before dinner.

The trees around the house waved, their leaves rattling, and the middle-aged man wondered if a storm was coming. He frowned at the thought, thinking the weather an ominous sign of things to come.

Tomorrow he would go to Amelia Seward's house and bring her to London. Sir Integra herself had called on him to safely transport the teenager to Hellsing headquarters, a case of rarely displayed trust. Apparently the youth was unaware of the potential threat she posed, or the danger she was in because of her heritage.

It had taken the Hellsing Organization quite a long time to find her, their search made harder since her grandfather, Jonathon Harker, disappeared and changed names many decades back. It was only about two months back that Hellsing's intel came across the young woman's file and found her connection to the late solicitor and his missing wife, Mina Harker. After that, the time it took to verify her identity and location had been significantly long. Jonathon Harker had not wanted his family to be found.

Gunfire startled Clive out of his thoughts. Ridding himself of the cigarette, his hand moved to one of the guns under his coat.

In a few strides he opened the backdoor and called out to his mother in the kitchen. "I'm going out for a few minutes. Don't wait on me if I'm not back in time for supper."

Not waiting for a reply, he closed the door and moved away from the house, heading in the direction of the gunshot. His heart was pounding in his chest as he pulled out a gun. Yes, the weather was definitely a sign of troubled times ahead.

Note: Amelia's home town of Hague is a fictional setting in England, created specifically for this story, and is in no way related to The Hague located in the Netherlands.