Alive

Short, shallow pants escaped Alfred's lips as he ran down the alley. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, pure fear clenching his heart in his chest.

The night was dark, but clear. The moon was barely visible due to its current position in its rotation cycle. The buildings were but dark, lifeless silhouettes. There was hardly anyone downtown this late, save for Alfred and the attacker. The place was practically deserted. His throat was burning and his legs were begging to stop running, but Alfred knew that would be nothing but a death sentence.

He turned a corner, sneakers scraping against the wet pavement. The foul stench of smoke filled his lungs, and he knew he was close to the factories…he was running out of time.

He suddenly heard the sound of fast-paced footsteps become louder and his heartbeat increased, if that was possible.

Alfred exhaled sharply. Dare he look back…?

Squeezing his eyes shut, which were on the brim of tears by now, he took a moment before hipping his head around to see behind him.

He saw no one.

Alfred took a shaky breath, actually somewhat calm.

For about a half a second.

He slammed into another person in front of him, falling to the ground with an audible THUD. His head hit the concrete and he was probably bleeding, but the panic running through his body didn't let him feel any of it. He seemed to have lost his glasses, probably back in the street, and he couldn't feel his legs.

Alfred slowly got up on his elbows, blinking his eyes open. "Hey, sorry dude, but I reall-" Whatever he was about to say came to an abrupt halt before the words could leave his mouth, and his face went pale white.

The man above him smirked, teeth shining in the low light. "Well, well, well," he said, "looks like we're trapped, now aren't we?"

Alfred panicked, trying to pick himself up as fast as he could, but to no avail as the man leaned down and swiftly placed a dagger on his neck.

"Not so fast, you little fucker," he growled, his accent showing through very clearly, "One false move and you'll find out what it's like to have your legs torn off and go through a wood chipper.

Alfred tried to blink back his tears. "What do you w-want?"

The man didn't move. "You don't need to know. Now," –he shoved Alfred up by the arm, making him wince- "let's get you tied up."

The attacker threw his victim against the brick wall of a building, holding him there with one hand while the other jammed a rather large hook into the wall, which Alfred found to be quite impressive. Even he wasn't that strong. The man pulled some thick rope out of his bag –when was he carrying a bag?- and quickly tied Alfred's wrists up and placed the remaining rope around the hook, leaving Alfred totally vulnerable and exposed.

Alfred's tears finally slipped from his eyes. He knew he was going to die. He tried to think of what life would be like for everyone he knew after he was dead. He thought of Matthew, his brother, whom he often forgot yet didn't love any less. He thought of his parents, who nurtured him, cared for him, raised him, loved him. His friends, Feli, Ludwig, Ivan, Yao…all of them. Would they miss him? Would they cry for him? Would he be forgotten? Will he be just another kid who was just unfortunate? Did they hate him? He thought of what he had accomplished, which was not much. He barely had passing grades, was lazy, and couldn't even hold a job at McDonald's.

Guilt pooled in his stomach.

I've wasted my life…

The unknown attacker grabbed Alfred's chin gently, pulling Alfred's face up to meet his eyes. With his other hand, he wiped his tears with his thumb, making Alfred tense up and shake nervously in his grasp. The man leaned a little closer. "Shhh, now, there's no need to cry…"

Liar.

The man stepped back letting Alfred's face go. He smirked. "Alright then, let's get down to business," and with that, he tore Alfred's shirt from his body.

Alfred let out a shaky breath, tears flowing down his cheeks again. The man started fumbling around for something in his bag, and Alfred thought, 'Here we go…' He prepared himself, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes shut.

With a grunt, the man tore the knife across Alfred's chest.

Alfred let out a piercing scream, pain shooting through his torso. At this point, he wished he was already dead. It was excruciating. He looked down at his chest, which was fully open, so you could see his ribs. Blood ran down the front of his body to the ground. He let out little whines and whimpers, his throat burning.

The man dropped the knife to the ground. "Well, that's over and done with," he said. "Just a little more to go."

Ever so slowly, he backed up a fair distance away from him, only to run up again and lift his leg at just the right moment so he kicked Alfred in the same spot he cut open.

Alfred let out another cry, knowing no one would hear him, feeling his ribs easily crack under the pressure.

The attacker simply straightened himself, licking the splattered blood from his hand. He noticed his little victim was losing consciousness, probably from blood loss. He raised a brow. "Something you want to say before we're done here?"

He placed his hand on Alfred's literally bare chest, and Alfred leaned his head against the brick wall and whispered 'I love you, I'm sorry' as his heart was torn from his body.

His corpse slumped limply against the wall, all the life that it once possessed now gone.

As this happened, the man smirked and stared at the other male's heart. He gave one last glance towards Alfred's dead body before placing it against his mouth and sucking all of the blood from it, then putting it in his wet cavern and swallowing it whole.

Arthur smiled, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, picked up his bag, and simply walked away, feeling more alive than ever before.