AN: A short oneshot I thought of randomly. Thanks to all my readers for all the continued support!
(~~*~~)
England stood at his alchemist table, a blue vile in his hand. A soft fog rose from beaker in the middle of the rune encrusted table. The soft rays of yellow light that it emitted cast shadows onto his face: the only light in the darkness of his self-induced abyss. He added the blue to the yellow and the light grew brighter, only to fade to nothing.
"Cantara" a small blue fire illuminated at his shoulder. He grabbed the beaker, flinching slightly at the heat it radiated. The liquid inside was clear and seemed to shake slightly. All he had to do was let it sit away from sunlight for an hour or so. It would stabilize then and become the perfect poison.
Two years. That is how long it had taken to collect the necessary ingredients. The production was a long and rigorous trial by which the world's rarest elements and plants were needed. The poison would kill instantly, then disintegrate to nothing.
He would finally kill America. The tasteless poison was impossible to detect without magic. All he had to do now was invite America over for dinner, add the substance to America's food and-
"Hey Arthur, Dude, Where are you?"
The heavy door was thrown in, nearly breaking off its hinges. The sudden flash of light blinded England and he could do nothing as the bottle fell from his fumbling hands. It crashed to the floor, shattering into diamond-like dust as the poison inside evaporated with a hiss.
"Hey, dude, where can you get good food here bro? I'm like starving!"