I'm not sure how this will turn out. The idea sort of just popped up out of nowhere and if I don't at least try to do this then it will bother me. So enjoy

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters

Most people think they know what true fear is. Perhaps it's late at night when you've gone to bed after watching a horror film. When you hide under the covers convinced there's some else in the room. Or maybe it's a day from when you were younger. When you were walking through a store and realized you've lost sight of your parents.

Well, multiply those feelings by a thousand and you've got one, Alfred F. Jones running down the street.

He ran, ran as fast as his legs would allow, his feet pounding down the pavement. Rain from angry clouds made the ground slippery underfoot, each step threatening to trip him up. Still he ran on, and you would too in his unfortunate situation.

Not far behind, and gaining fast, a figure followed after. Perhaps followed isn't the right word, pursued would fit the description better. The figure was dressed in a long, black trench coat. His feet, void of shoes, slapped noisily against the ground.

Alfred chanced a look behind him. The figure was closer. He could now make out its face. It was obviously a male. At first glance the face wouldn't different from any other face on the street, albeit off here and there. His skin a little to pale, teeth pointing out a bit too much. The thing, however, that set him apart from any normal man were his eyes.

The man's eyes were like pools of scarlet, his pupils nothing more than small black dots. His eyes looked ready to burst and spew that scarlet any minute. If one were to look closely in his eyes they would be able to see the hunger that burned there.

Alfred willed his face to go faster. Lights from nearby houses entered his line of sight. If he could just make it to one of them. Maybe someone is out, he thought. "Help! Can someone, anyone hear me! Help!" Damn, a hero doesn't call for help…

His voice fell on deaf ears. No one was out, nor listening. It was past curfew so nobody would be out. People knew the dangers of being out after dark. Ever since the sting of murders began in town there had been a curfew to keep people safe. Alfred didn't follow that curfew and now, more than ever, he wished he had.

The figure let out a sound that sounded like a banshee's wail. It was terrifying to think that sound came from someone who was human. He was human…right?

Alfred looked over his shoulder again and felt a flare of hope in his chest. He was still a safe distance from his pursuer. At this rate he would be able to make it to one of the houses, maybe even his house. It had been a long time since Alfred actually was excited at the thought of going home. Ever since the accident with his twin brother Alfred disliked being at the seemingly empty house.

Alfred shook the memory from his head. This was not time to think of such things. He could wallow in grief later. Alfred nearly cried out in joy when he reached the end of his block. Not wanting to chance it, he ran toward the first house.

Thankfully this house still had their lights on which meant someone may still be awake. Alfred had already extended a hand to reach for the door. "Please anyone! Open the door," he called out, despite still being a few yards from the house. Alfred smiled when the curtains from the front window drew back and the face of a young woman appeared.

"Please Miss, open the-" Alfred was cut off as his foot caught on one of the cobble-stone steps that lead to the door. With a cry of pain he hit the ground, the edge of the stair cutting into his ribs. Alfred shifted his position to try and stand. Almost as soon as he put weight on his legs he was back on the wet ground.

"Well, well, well. Looks like your lucks ran out little boy," came a sickly sweet voice from behind him.

Alfred painfully turned his head to face the man. Despite his position Alfred managed to level the man with an intimidating glare. "Hey! I'm not little! I'm nearly sixteen," he spat at the man. Alfred clamped his mouth shut when the man walked next to him.

The man grinned down at Alfred, showing off two rather large pointed teeth. "You've got spirit. I like that in a meal." He bent down. "Gives you a little more flavor."

Alfred leaned his head away from the man. His face scrunched up with distaste. That man's breath smelled something foul, like rotting flesh. Meal? What the hell is he talking about? Alfred thought. Remembering the woman at the window, he looked back at her.

She was still there. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape. Their gazes met. She stared back at Alfred for moment and then slowly shook her head. She quickly closed the curtains and switched off the lights.

With the lights off, both inside and out, all Alfred could see were the man's scarlet orbs. They darted from the house back to Alfred. His lips pulled back into a malicious grin. "Looks like no one cares about you. Fine with me. It saves me the effort of killing someone else."

He had said that so casually, like taking someone's life was as easy as breaking a toothpick. Alfred tried to shuffle away. I'm a hero! This is not how a hero acts at all! As infuriating as it was, Alfred had no choice but to try and make a pathetic retreat.

The man made a tsking noise and very roughly pulled Alfred back down the stone steps. Each step managed to stab at his already bruised ribs and he managed to crack his glasses. "As much as I would like to continue our lovely conversation I am rather tired and the rain is ruining my favorite coat."

Alfred opened his mouth to retort but the man didn't give him a chance. He placed a hand over Alfred's mouth and pushed his head back against the ground.

"Do not scream. No one can hear you and even if they did no one would help you. And it just makes my meal unpleasant." He then pulled down Alfred's prized jacket, exposing a tan neck.

Alfred stiffened. No way in hell is he going to do that to me! With a well-aimed kick, Alfred managed to knock his attacker back. "Get off me you creep!"

The man stood up again and growled at Alfred. Stepping back over to him, the man dug a heel into his torso. This earned a small whimper from Alfred. "I tend not to go for younger people; their blood usually isn't too great. But I'm glad I caught you. But you did bring it on yourself, being out after human curfew time." His voice changed in mock pity. "Didn't mommy and daddy tell you what happens when you're out after dark?"

Alfred glared defiantly up at the man. He smirked, his rebellious side taking over. "I thought you didn't want to continue our, quote 'lovely conversation'."

"Cheeky brat," the man hissed back. He bent down again, using more force he nearly ripped Alfred's jacket off. His eyes gleaming, he began to lean down.

"What are you doing?" Alfred nearly yelled.

The man chuckled. "Still haven't figured it out, eh. Well humans don't believe we're real anyway. I'm envious of your complete ignorance." Fed up with waiting, the man opened his mouth. His two large teeth extended when he felt the heat pulsing from the boy's neck. "Lovely," he murmured before biting deep into Alfred's flesh.

"A-AH!" Alfred winced at the sudden pain in his neck. He felt an odd force slam into his body, preventing him from moving. All he could do was listen to the horrifying sucking sound coming from the man. "H-hey, stop!"

After about 30 seconds the pain started to ebb away. A new strange sensation then set in. It felt weird, not bad or good just…weird. Alfred tried to squint his eyes; the world looked like it was beginning to spin faster.

The man had wrapped his arms around Alfred. From this position he was able to feel the boy's body begin to slacken. He grinned around Alfred's neck. Heh, this kid sure does take care of himself. His blood is void of any alcohol or drugs. Simply delicious, he thought. There was a crackling sound behind him.

"Let him go!"

The man spun around, dropping Alfred's body on the ground. He hissed at the kid standing before him. "Back off!"

The kid, who was holding a large wooden staff, glared back. "I will not hesitate to give you some real wounds to think about if you don't get out of here."

The man hesitated. "You're just a kid. You think you can stop me? Ha!"

"Oh, I think I can you wanker." He held up a hand, magic was emanating from it.

"Warlock. Pests you are! The lot of you. Fine, I'll not kill this meat," he jerked a pointed finger at Alfred. "But I won't have you just erasing his memory. I'm going to make this kids life a living hell." The man turned quickly and pulled Alfred to his feet.

Alfred, who was dazed and confused beyond reason, simply stared back.

"Hope you enjoyed humanity kid." He opened his mouth again, this time letting a purple liquid coat his fangs. "Cause you're done with it."

"NO!"

Grin wide as ever, the man bit back in the same wound he made before.

Alfred eyes widened and he screamed. His body stiffened as the foreign liquid was forced into his body.

The warlock stared for a moment before waving his staff. He muttered words that had been long since forgotten.

The man, now deemed a rogue vampire, screeched as a symbol was burned into his skin. "You wretch!" He turned his attention back to the warlock. He put a hand over his eye, where the mark had burned. "I'll be back. I'll be back for you and that boy," he spat before turning and taking off into the darkness.

The warlock sighed. Rushing forward he knelt beside Alfred. "Idiot. I best get you back to the school then. Your life is about to change. Ana in your case, it's not for the better." He swished a hand over them both, with a little exertion, he summoned a bright light. When it faded the street stood empty.

The rain was falling the night Alfred Jones went missing.