Love Isn't an Easy Thing

EVENT 1

"We will be arriving at your uncle's estate quite shortly. I won't drop you off right at the door, though. Only to the gates, and then you'll be on your own, little miss." The driver informed the young girl in the passenger seat. She curtly nodded and fidgeted with the handle of the suitcase that sat on the floor.

"Will you carry all of my things in?" She asked quietly.

"That will be the other boys, not me. If you'd like, I'll stay at the gates until you come in the estate." He suggested, making a turn.

"Yes, I would greatly appreciate that." The girl beamed. The driver smiled back at her and the rest of the drive was silent.

Marcela Evonne Hellsing, although she was scared, tried not to make it seem obvious. That's why she made small talk with a sailor on the ferry which evacuated her from France to England, and why she gave her bread roll to the woman next to her on the ship, and why she kept smiling as she talked with the driver whom her uncle had sent out especially to get her. Since Nazi Germany had attacked her country, her parents, specifically her father, decided to send her to her uncle's estate in England, claiming she would be safer there. The girl had experienced a massive shell shock after the first bomb, so she was to be evacuated immediately. She had met her uncle, her father's younger brother, before, but she didn't quite know him, as that was ages ago. Obviously, Marcela was in no position to complain, so she complied to her parents' decision with a smile, knowing that they only wanted the best for her.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of a large metal gate, behind which stood a large manor. The driver got out and opened the door for the girl. Marcela felt intimidated by the estate, the driver's urgent demeanor, and by the situation in general.

"There's no need to be afraid, little miss. I'll keep an eye on you until you're in, so don't worry." The man assured her. The girl nodded, gathered up all the courage a girl her age possessed, and hopped out of the seat, taking her suitcase with her. She walked up to the gates and with one last glance back at the driver, she began to ascend the cobalt path to the front of the estate.

She walked up the stone steps, and at that moment, all of her mental strength was gone - she was too afraid to knock. What if her uncle decided that he didn't want he anymore and just threw her on the streets? What if he sent her back to France? Would she die? Marcela mentally slapped herself for thinking such down-themed thoughts and knocked on the door.

She had begun to think that no one was greeting her until the door opened to reveal a tall brunet man in his thirties - seemingly a butler of the estate. He greeted her with a cold nod and opened the door further to let her in. Marcela mumbled a "thanks" and stepped inside.

Right as she walked in, she saw her uncle, Arthur Hellsing by the main stairway. He smiled as she stood frozen in place.

"Marcela, my dear niece! Come on in, there's no need to be shy." The girl came to her senses and walked closer, dragging her suitcase along.

"It's nice to see you, Uncle Arthur." She stated as soon as she was within an arms reach of the man. He eyed the suitcase, then turned his gaze back to Marcela.

"You have more things in the car, do you not?" She nodded in response, "I'll have Issac take that to your room, and then the rest of your things, alright?"

"Of course." Marcela eased herself. her uncle was a charismatic man, and she instantly felt familiar with him. She compared him to her father, who was rather conservative and disliked all conflict. She didn't understand how the two were brothers, but she merely shrugged it off.

"It's still rather early, so I will show you the most important parts of the estate. I can't amuse you for long, though: we're in a war, after all." Arthur explained as the two walked down a hallway in the Hellsing manor. It was dark and could be the perfect mood for some nightmarish haunted castle, and not for Marcela's new living space for the next years. Although, considering who resided there, the estate wasn't much different from a haunted castle. A hand on her shoulder broke the girl out of her thoughts. Her uncle had stopped in front of a room and was ready to open the door.