Wow, it is about time I put my first fanfic up here.

Please be kind! This is actually the first I wrote as well so...

Enjoy?

Oh, right, I guess you could consider this gruesome. It is a cross of hetalia and Saw for heaven's sake.

Blood and such, acid...death...Yeah...all that fun stuff.

Don't like? Leave!...

Sorry for the rudeness!

Arthur sighed as he stirred to consciousness. "My fucking head is a mess. I…Ugh, I can't remember a thing." he muttered to himself, trying in vain to gain a better state of awareness. "I swear that is the last time I go drinking with my siblings…" The Brit looked around into the utter darkness to no avail, sensing no other life residing in the room with him. "Hey! What the bloody hell is going on? Scot I swear I am going to ring your neck if you do not come out right now and get me out of where ever the hell I am!" He barked into the empty darkness, receiving no answer. Arthur mumbled a few curses to himself as he managed to rise to his feet without stumbling to much. "Get out here, you infuriating git! I know you are behind this Scotland, you bastard. This isn't funny." As the Englishman yelled at who he assumed had caused his rude awakening, a noise sounded from the other side of the room. Arthur fell silent, staring at the sound with mild bewilderment.

"Hello? Wh…Where am I?" A voice sounded, causing the Brit to freeze immediately, for he recognized the man's voice.

"Alfred? Alfred is that you?" He whispered, unable to understand why the American would be here as well.

"Arthur?" The American questioned, his voice calm for the odd situation. Arthur figured the teen would already begin to freak out because of this, as was normal.

"What are we doing here?" He muttered to himself, "And where exactly is here?" Arthur sighed in frustration, the whole situation was too surreal to be a prank. The two nations stayed silent for a many moments, before Alfred's voice sounded again.

"It isn't Halloween yet, Iggy." The teen muttered so Arthur could only just make out his words, a hint of irritation in his darkened tone.

"What do you mean by th…" Arthur began, but was almost immediately cut off by the obviously upset American.

"Real funny joke, Iggy! Kidnap me, chain me to a wall in a dark and creepy room, and act innocent. Great joke, you got me. I am scared. Now please let me go!" Alfred yelled accusingly, his voice trembling slightly. Arthur gritted his teeth in frustration, ready to yell back, when one detail of Alfred's situation stood out to him.

"Chained?" Realization began to flood into Arthur's mind as he processed the current situation.

"Yes, chained. You chained me to the fucking wall! Are you insane? I know you don't like me, Iggy, but come on! This is way to far just to mess with me." Alfred commented, the containment becoming a bit too much for him. It almost sounds like Arthur is confused too… No, he is just a good actor. And a jerk at that…

Though he wanted to yell again, and strangle the brat for his constant accusations, the Brit remained silent as he tried to logically sort out the horrid predicament the two were in. Different thoughts flew through his mind, who the true culprit could be, if this was all fake, and why they were chosen, until one name struck through from a vague memory. "It can't be…" Arthur started, but did not have the will to utter their kidnappers title. Alfred groaned in frustration.

"What the hell does that mean? Arthur, I know people say you are a little off, but this is just fucked up! Chaining me to the wall? Jesus, you really must have lost it!" Alfred whined, pulling at his chains to no avail.

"Shut up! Just shut the hell up for one fucking second!" Arthur heard himself cry out, panic already setting in his mind. "Don't you watch the news?" The Brit demanded without giving the younger a chance to reply. "This is a ga…" He began to explain, but was interrupted by the eerie sound and flash of an old television flicking on. The two snapped their attention toward the now only light and sound in the room, staring intently as they awaited their answers. As a dark, almost ill voice spoke, the panic inside of Arthur increased to a frightening level. Everything fell into place.

"Hello, Arthur, I want to play a game. We both know you are all too familiar with the man you share this room with. He has caused you nothing but agony. You can trace almost all of your current problems to him. I am sure you have regretted not having the ability to have shot him in the past, so I give you your relief." A single light fell upon Alfred, revealing his gruesome fate. Chained up by his ankles and wrists , a collar clamped tightly upon his neck lay the frightened American. What terrified Arthur was the old, worn musket placed in front of Alfred. It was his own gun from the revolution. How did he… But the voice cut his thoughts short. "There is a large glass tank behind you filled with normal, harmless water. Inside this is a key. The key to your escape. But, as we speak, a deadly acid is being poured slowly. In two hours, the acidic mixture will have dissolved the key at the bottom. In about one hour, it will be able to dissolve the hardest bones. In thirty minuets, it will be able to dissolve skin. The depositing of acid is determined by the heart rate of your dear enemy. The faster his heart beats, the sooner the key disappears and the sooner your fates are determined. The only way to stop the flow of acid is to stop the flow of blood. Only you can choose the outcome, Arthur. Make your choice. Will you murder the man you raised, or risk your own well-being to save him. Remember, freedom releases a sacrificial cleansing of the soul. Let the games begin." As the tap shut off a large digital clock slicked on with the numbers 1:51.

"One hour and fifty one minutes, huh." Arthur muttered, glancing around the dimly lit containment center. It seems like an old torture cell.

"Fuck! Arthur, get the fucking key!" Alfred yelled, beginning to freak out again.

"Calm down Alfred."

"Don't tell me to calm down! This is all your fault anyway! If you could just let go of the past-" But Alfred's mouth shut as Arthur walked over to the musket and placed his finger on the trigger.

"Shut your fucking mouth or I will blow you head off right now." Arthur stated calmly, staring intently into the American's shaky eyes. Alfred almost began to cry, would Arthur really kill me? Alfred kept his thoughts to himself, inhaling deeply to calm his heart. Arthur slowly released his grip on the fun and twisted around to face the water tank. He gritted his teeth and walked toward it.

Once he walked far enough away, Alfred pulled at the restraints and found that his right hand was looser than the left. He quietly felt around to see if there was a key or something. Finding nothing around him, the American decided to search his pockets. Within a pocket in his bomber jacket was a small remote with a single black button on it, an envelope, and another key. Alfred set the button down and put the key back in his pocket before opening the letter and reading it.

"Hello, Alfred, I want to play a game. At this very moment your life hangs on a thin wire, only being help up by your old caretaker, Arthur. But my question is can you trust him? The key you possess now is the correct key to open your shackles, but you must open them before one hour is up. If not, your body will be ripped apart. The problem for you is that the lock is in a place only Arthur knows. He has hidden it in the back of his mind. Can you convince him to trust you? Can you convince yourself to trust him? Remember, your revenge is just a click away. Let the game begin."

He looked over to where Arthur was, but the man was no where to be seen. "Ar…Arthur? Where'd you go?" he asked quietly. Had the traitor already gotten the key and left me behind?

"What was that note?" Alfred jumped as Arthur walked toward him from the shadows. Damn this lighting! He cursed to himself.

"Wh…What note?" The American replied, his voice wavering. He was afraid to lie, but afraid not to. "Did you get the key?" He asked eagerly, but the Brit shook his head. Does Arthur even care about escaping?

"Your hand is loose?" Arthur inquired, examining the new elongated chain.

"Yeah, the chain just sorta dropped and…"

"What did the note say? What does that button do?" Arthur asked bluntly, cutting Alfred off.

"Wh…What are you talking about?" He smiled nervously. Arthur frowned and knelt down next to Alfred, looking straight into his eyes. Where those tears?

"Don't you trust me?" The Brit asked, voice shaking slightly. Alfred was shocked speechless. He had not heard the man sound so scared. "I promise I will get you out of this alive and as healthy as possible, so please… just trust me." Arthur said, a tear escaping and rolling down his pale cheek. Alfred could only nod in response. "Good, now…" Arthur smiled, trying to soothe the Americans worries as well as his own. "Let's work together on this. What did the note say?" Alfred looked away from Arthur as he thought of it, almost crying himself.

"I have a game too…" He replied, handing the elder nations the note. As Arthur skimmed over it, Alfred began to cry, no longer able to contain his fears. "I don't wanna die, Arthur. Don't let him kill me!" Alfred whined, wishing this was a horrible nightmare. Arthur set the note aside and attempted to calm the American down.

"Please, Alfred, I cannot save you is you do this. Please calm down." Before responding, a part of the note rang in his ear. The location of the lock is in the back of Arthur's mind…

"Easy for you to say. You are free and in control!" Alfred yelled, causing Arthur to jump back in shock. "Maybe I should get me 'revenge' after all. You pretended to care for me, but you just don't want to have blood on your hands. You would rather see me die!" At this point, Alfred was in tears again. He picked up the button once again. "I'll have control too!" He yelled and pushed the button. A sharp pain rushed through Arthur and caused him to drop to him knees.

"Please… Alfred, please stop!" Arthur cried out in agony, but Alfred simply pushed the button a second time. Another wave of electric bolts shot through the Brit's body. He screamed out in pain, "Stop! Alfred, please!" Seeing the man in such pain made Alfred throw the button away.

"Oh God, oh Iggy, I'm so sorry. I…I just got carried away and… and… Oh please say something." Alfred rambled, guilt washing over him. Arthur collapsed to the floor as the shocked stopped, and he lay there motionless. "Oh God, Arthur! Arthur, please wake up! Don't be dead. Please, please, you can't be dead. Arthur!" Alfred yelled, his hope fading as the minutes went by. He only had fifteen minutes before his game was thorough. "Arthur…" He whimpered, "Please don't die. I didn't mean it. Don't leave me…" Alfred continued, dropping his head in despair after a few more moments. He had killed Arthur, the man you raise him, the man who made him who he was. "You were always so hurt because of me…" he murmured.

"St…Stupid git…" Alfred's head shot up in delight to see the Brit slowly stagger to his feet, grinning slightly. "Next time, just tell me you are upset with me. No need for murder." He joked, laughing slightly, causing Alfred to laugh as well. They settle down after a short while, and Arthur looked at Alfred confidently. "I will save you." Alfred nodded. He would trust the Brit fully. They could escape.

Arthur walked over to the tank of water, observing it quickly. He would have to jump in and fully submerge himself in the liquid to get the key. With slight resistance, he reached his hand into the liquid, preparing for the worst. The second his hand touched the substance, his eyes widened. He pulled her hand out… "Nothing?" He asked no one, staring at his hand, then the tank. "There's… there's no acid?" He concluded, still confused. Alfred grinned.

"Guess none of this is true then. What a horrible prank…" The American laughed out of relief. He wasn't going to die a horrible death, though whoever did this would… Arthur smiled before diving into the water. The cool water was refreshing after all the thick tension. He swam to the bottom and grabbed the key. The second Arthur ripped the key out of its place, letters lit the bottom of the tank. "Time to cleanse your bitter soul, Arthur." It read, and before he could react, something was poured into the tank from above. Some form of acid seeped into the tank and began to burn his skin. He swam back up as fast as he could, trying hard not to scream. Once he was able to, he lunged his body out of the tank and onto the floor, crashing hard onto it. His whole body was shaking and covered in blood. As he struggled to stand, he spotted a towel next to him. How fucking ironic. He shrugged and took the gift, wrapping it around him to soak up some of his escaping blood. He walked over to Alfred, trying hard to ignore the pain that shot through him with each step. "Le…Let's get ou…out of here, sh…shall we?" He managed to say with a weak smile. He saw that Alfred was in tears. "What is it?" Arthur asked nervously.

"Why did you do that for me?" Alfred asked, voice shaking as he sobbed. Arthur smiled, patting Alfred's head.

"Because I love you. I would die for you, Alfred. How could you not know that?" Alfred cried, wanting to hug the Brit. Arthur laughed. "Calm yourself and tell me how to free you." Alfred took the key from his pocket and handed it to Arthur.

"The note said you knew where the lock was." The younger nation replied, fear in his voice again.

"I have no idea where…" But it was too late. Alfred's time was up. A small clicking sound began and the chains started to pull at Alfred's limbs.

"Arthur!" Alfred cried out, but the name would be his final word. The chains ripped away in different directions, tearing the American's body parts off in a violent and bloody end for the youthful nation. Alfred's blood painted the dark prison, splattering onto Arthur who stood in disbelief. As the chains ceased and all sound died, Arthur fell to his knees, eyes wide and full of tears.

"Alfred…" He whispered, hoping, praying that his eyes were lying to him or that this was all a horrid nightmare. "Alfred!" He cried out, letting his mind see the situation for what it was. His closest friend, and possibly the only person he would ever love was dead, brutally murdered before his very eyes. It was only then that he noticed a thin collar around his own neck. This must be where the electricity came from… He felt around the back of the collar and could detect a small lock. Arthur put Alfred's key in the lock and turned it slowly. The collar fell to the ground, and inside the opened lock was a small button. He leaned down and pushed it, hearing a click in the distant darkness. Arthur followed the sound hesitantly to see that the chains that were stilled on Alfred's torn limbs snapped open. His eyes took in the gruesome display, praying once more that this was a nightmare.

"But it isn't a nightmare…" He muttered to himself, stepping back slightly. Arthur felt as if he would be sick at any moment. "No… No! You can't be dead! You can't be! What happened to being a hero? A hero can't just die! Why did you have to be so damn distrusting…" the Englishman fell to the ground, tears flowing from his eyes. "Damn you! You can't just leave me! You can't just leave me alone, Alfred!" He screamed out, sobbing. The whole room in a state of silent mourning aside from his heavy weeping.

After what seemed like says of cold, isolated darkness, Arthur stood up, walked over to the door, and put the key in the lock. His body was still shaking violently. His mind was numb. He just needed to leave, but for what reason? He had nothing to live for if he couldn't be with Alfred. He glanced at the acid tank in hope that it might be possible to shatter and flood the room, killing him as well. He then remembered the musket still sat in the beam of light. With a weak smile, he staggered over to it, pulled it out of its restraint, and aimed it at the glass. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger…

Nothing. Nothing happened. The gun didn't fire. He screamed out in frustration, whipping the musket at the glass to no avail. The glass remained intact. He was too weak to pull himself into the tank of acid. He walked to the door and turned the key, glancing back. The full reality of the day's events flooded through his mind again and began to fully sink in. His dear Alfred was dead, his own body was scarred, and his heart was shredded to bits. Turning the key to fully unlock the door, he pulled it open with great difficulty. The metal door groaned with a sad, melancholy voice as it was forced out of its slumber. Arthur gazed outside into a world unknown.

He looked back into the chamber, tears threatening to fall once more. "Alfred…" he whispered one last time. Walking back to Alfred's body one last time, he managed to remove the corpse's glasses and jacket. He cried at the sight of his love's carnage. He cried for the lose of his only love. And most of all, he cried because it was all his fault. He allowed Alfred to die. After another minute or two he composed himself as well as he could. Arthur kissed Alfred's forehead before standing to leave. "I will never forget you, love," He said, slinging the bomber jacket over his shoulder and placing the glasses in his pocket, "I will not let your memory fade in the slightest."

Author's notes: Yay for finally typing up my first fanfic!

It is about time, is it not?

Please do not complain about any plot holes, I tried my best to make this logical.

Thank you for wasting time on my work! *bows*

I hope to write more, but I die inside when I don't get opinions and readers, so...

Please review this. Tell me how terrible it is if you want, I do not mind.