Part One
America, or sometimes better known as Alfred Jones - a boy who grew up a little too fast for a certain nation's tastes - was often considered chubby or even fat to most of the other nations. He was tall, 19 and just barely able to grasp adulthood, though there wasn't much about him that screamed 'mature' or 'adult' for the super nation he had become over what seemed like a few short years. He was more on the childish and playful side, though that's just how he was, would probably never change.
He was alone at home now, sleeping away the day once again. It was nearing 8, though he wasn't aware of this as he was an extremely deep sleeper. He shifted, able to feel the cool morning air moving in from his open window, little goosebumps running up any exposed skin that the blankets weren't covering anymore. He automatically pulled the covers back up, snoring loudly once again. He wasn't planning on waking up until much later that afternoon. He yawned, turning back over onto his back and started to snore once again.
He grumbled a little, scratching his stomach, his other hand resting on his forehead as he started to mumble something in his sleep. "Nn... Iggy... They stick..." He mumbled softly, turning his head a little to the left in the pillow, drool dribbling down from the corner of his lip. "You sure it's... san..." He was cut off by another snore at that point. Little did he know, a figure moved across the room in near silence, every step precise.
The figure moved across the still dark room, the black blinds in the window keeping out almost all of the sunlight, it was to help Alfred sleep until noon. See, he wasn't as stupid as most thought he was. He snored again, a few blond strands of hair falling out of place and tickling his nose, causing him to snore a little louder and sleepily move his hand up to push it back out of the way. "Mm... I'll save you.." He muttered softly as he rest his hand in his hair, dreaming about hero's and damsels in distress. The usual, really.
He would not have seen the blade as it was raised into the air. It is said that to kill beings like Alfred, was to stab them straight in the heart...
Alfred's chest raised slowly before falling as he let out another breath of air. Suddenly the blade was brought down deep into the blond, sending a splatter of blood across up into the shadowed face of the mysterious being and onto Alfred's right cheek. The blade glinted and blue eyes stared, wide eyed, the blood slowly beginning to drip from his chest. "Ah..." He managed to let out, his tired mind trying to figure out what was going on. What should he do next. He looked up into the face of the other, swallowing his pain, so he wouldn't show it.
Alfred winced when he could make out anything in the darkness of the room. " W-ho-" He began to say before the blade was suddenly dragged accross his wound. He knew that he had to do something, so, he quickly brought his leg up and slammed his foot into the shadowed being.
He pushed them forcibly away, causing them crash into the wall with a loud thud. Alfred turned over onto his side then rolled off the bed. He winced placing his hand on his chest, his fingers quickly covered in blood. He stood up and stumbled slightly, his vision blurring as he looked around, finding the door and making his way over, legs shaking and making it hard to walk. What was going on? Why was he so dizzy all of a sudden? He glanced back to see the figure rising once more, they were tall.. That's all he could tell..
Alfred felt as though they were drilling their eyes into him menacingly as they stood. He grabbed onto the door, yanking it open quickly, though was suddenly struck once more by the blade and forced to let go.
The shadowed figure threw the blade towards him, creating a gash on the American's arm. Alfred hissed for a moment, pressing his hand on the new, stinging wound. "W-what the hell?" He curled into himself a little on the floor, the pain getting to him. Why was this person here, trying to kill him? He had to find a weapon to defend himself, and soon. Where were his guns when he needed them?
He mentally hit himself for not putting one by his nightstand like he used to. Alfred thought he was safe, or at least felt that no one would try to kill him in his own home this early in the morning.
He suddenly turned around feeling the others presence behind him, his fist moving towards the taller man, but just as he was getting in range the giants hand suddenly reached out and grabbed his fist. He easily twisted it back, causing the bones and joints in Alfred's arms to crack and pop all the way up to his shoulder. He felt his arm becoming warmer before the pain started to grow. He let out a gasp, he could see a bone sticking up under the skin, nearly able to break through.
The blond looked to the shadowed figure once again, yanking his hand away quickly and smashing his other hand into the man's chest as hard as he could, causing the air to be forced out of their lungs. "Why are you doing this?" He asked angrily, raising his hand and curling it into a fist before hurling it forward once again.
The man moved quickly out of the way, so inhumanly quickly that he was almost a flash before his blue eyes, and within the second that past, he was standing behind him.
Alfred went to turn to face the man, but an arm quickly wrapped around him and brought him closer to his chest. "Ah!" He let out, seeing the blade once more over his head. His blue eyes staring up at the shining object. "L-let me.. The fuck go, you bastard!" He shouted grabbing the man's arm with his left hand, his right arm broken and useless. Alfred panted, struggling as the man forced his arm down and brought the blade closer to him. "Y-you can't s-seriously think you can kill me? Right? I'm the hero!" He grinned at this, being who he was was enough to keep him going, gave him enough confidence.
He'd never let this man win, would he?
Alfred was strong, he was America! He didn't need anybody. He didn't want help. He laughed. "You're pathetic. Y'know? Comin' into my house, and stabbing me in my sleep. You're a coward!" He watched those darkened eyes narrow on him, a smirk spreading onto his own face. "And you are going to die here. Alone. With nobody to help you…" Alfred snorted making the man much more angry, it was obvious with the look in the others eyes. "Heroes don't die, sorry loser, that's just how it goes! You're just jealous! Hahaha-Urk!"
The man yanked his arm away from Alfred's grip, suddenly bringing the knife once more into Alfred's chest, jabbing the blade into his heart once again. He then tossed the blond to the floor in one harsh movement, glaring. He then walked over, each step heavy against the hardwood floor. He stopped, bringing his foot up and onto the Americans chest, grinding it.
"Jealous? Of you? HA! You are pathetic! You have no real friends, hell; I don't even believe your own brother loves you as much as you think he does. You call yourself a hero, what good have you really done for anyone?" The figure shouted, turning away.
Alfred looked up, blood dripping from the corner of his lip. He still felt dizzy, was there something on those blades that was making him unable to fight back, or think clearly? He was having trouble remembering.. He looked around the room, frowning. He remembered that there was a weapon in the hallway..
But where..
Where had he hidden it? Alfred closed his eyes, trying to think clearly. After a short moment, the thought finally came to him. Table, he hid it under a table!
He opened his eyes, and there, down the hall a little ways was the small table. He forced himself to his feet, groaning a little as a pain shot up his arm, though he sucked it up and ran down the hall. The man turned in time to see the blond take off, growling. "OH no you don't!" He said, charging after the other.
Alfred crashed into the table, turning just in time to stick the knife into the taller man's upper thigh, earning a loud yell and causing the man to fall back. Al laughed in the small triumph. "HA!" He then turned, moving as fast as he could. He had to find a phone.
As he neared the stairs, something came smashing into the side of his head, causing him to stumble to the side. Alfred looked back, catching a glimpse of the man smiling, everything after that seemed to be happening in slow motion.. He felt himself tip backwards, losing his footing on the floor, seeming to float through the air. He didn't understand it at all, how could it end like this!
Did he really just lose?
Alfred stared with a puzzled look on his face. He was the hero, yet he seemed to be taken down so easily. As though he'd been a weak child. He gasped as his body hit something solid. Everything suddenly went black for a moment, only silence surrounding him..
When he opened his eyes once more, everything was a slight blur, sounds just a buzz around him like static from a TV. He could see the man was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at him. Then, everything went black once again.
Alfred forced his eyes open, and the man was closer this time, moving towards him down the stairs, his steps heavy and ringing in his ears.
He tried to will himself to move, but couldn't, only able to twitch a few fingers on his left hand... He could hear struggled gasps, then, everything went dark again.
He suddenly opened his eyes wide, seeing the man reaching out to him this time. "G-get away!" He thought he heard himself say, but the man grabbed him by the hair anyway.
Alfred could see white teeth from the man's shadowed face. He looked happy to be doing this to him? Why? Who was this person? What did he do to anger this man? He gasped as he was pulled into the air, his body hanging, unable to be moved willingly. It was as if the man was showing him what he was planning on doing next..
He turned his eyes down, staring at the next set of stairs before hearing a small "Opps!" before his body fell limply, crashing down the stairs. He felt himself rolling onto the wooden floor, soon sprawled out. He started taking deeper breaths now, even though it feel like someone was choking him.
His eyes stared around dully before slowly, they began to close. He felt too tired to force himself to stay awake any longer, the pain was getting to be too much, he knew, though most of it he couldn't feel anymore.. He knew it was there, though he was too far gone to feel it.
When the shadowed man made it to the bottom floor, he grinned as his work,
Alfred was out cold by this point. The man reached over, grabbing him by the hair and yanked him up. "The fun's not over yet, and you already went back to sleep. Tsk tsk... Guess we are going to have to teach you a lesson, hmm?" The man spoke as he dragged Alfred's unconscious body towards the kitchen.
He looked back at the stairs, which had blood splattered on to them, soaking into the white carpet. He grinned, forming more plans in his mind for later when he left. He yank Alfred into the kitchen. "Now, as punishment for you sleeping, you will give me….. This!" The man pulled out a strange little device, digging it into the American's eye socket, not even so much as trying to be gentle.
He yanked, pulling out one of the blond beautiful blue eyes, perfectly intact. He smiled as he placed it in a jar, filling it with some type of liquid. Then, he screwed the lid on tightly. The man then began to cut the others clothes apart, revealing the his built chest.
He grinned and glided a hand down it, running a few fingers over the rippling and twitching muscles.. "Let's see, now…" He cooed as he began to slice.
Hours seemed to a pass, the home looking empty. There was no trace of blood leading to the kitchen behind the closed doors, only two trails leading into the living room, then one up to the bedrooms.
A car soon pull up and an annoyed looking little spiky haired man stepped out. "That stupid git, late, on a day like this. He's going to get it." The man grumbled walking up to the house. "ALFRED!" He shouted banging on the door with a fist. "Let me in this instant!" He shouted in a demanding, harsh tone of voice. He then grabbed onto the doorknob, twisting it. "Where are you, it's 2:00-… No, scratch that, 2:03! You better have a good reason for not showing up to the meeting... Again!" The boy hardly missed the meetings, but when he did, Arthur sometimes couldn't help but think the worst.
But knew every time the boy was fine. There was nothing he needed to worry about. He was surprised when the door opened up, though ignored this thought and walked on in, slamming the door loudly behind him to make his entrance known.
He went to turn towards the stairs when suddenly his phone went off, making him jump. He narrowed his eyes and sighed answering it. "What is it, Frog? I'm in Alfred's house." He grumbled tapping his foot. Arthur's eyebrow twitched as Francis spoke, his voice almost scraping in his ears. "Yes, whatever, I'll tell him about you're party then. Since you are trying to win him over again with his stomach!" Arthur bit back to the others words he wanted to say. "Don't you say that to me, I know when you are trying to get something from someone." He glared turning around and went to open his mouth once more to respond to the frog, though the thought went straight out of the window at what he saw.
"A- Oh…my…." The phone dropped to the floor suddenly, clattering against the hardwood. Arthur's eyes opened in horror as he stumbled a little back, then gulped. "Alfred... This... This better not be some sick joke!" He snatched up his phone and moved up the stairs.
Francis asked what was going on, what happened though Arthur wasn't paying much attention as he bent down towards the puddle of blood on the carpet on the stairs. He brought his finger through the stain and then lifted them up, sniffing the red on his fingers.. There it was, that smell, he knew it. The smell of blood.
Arthur stood up suddenly, Alfred could never make fake blood smell like that.
"Blood…" He gripped the phone tightly. Francis was now beginning to shout 'Blood? What blood? Arthur? Say something!' Getting irritated by Arthurs suddenly silence.
Arthur gulped. "In Alfred's house, he's hurt, someone m…. Must have broke in. I-I got to find him. Alfred!" He shouted moving up the stairs quickly, not knowing what he would find. But he had to find him! He had to see what was going on. Maybe Alfred fell, yeah, and cut himself really bad! Arthur only could have hoped that the other was sleeping off the fall in their bed safe and... Alive.
Alright then, doesn't have an Official title, I am just the creator of this story line, Not of Hetlia itself.
Though that would be pretty cool, i guess, meh.
Anyways, Any suggestions for a title would be cool. I have no idea if i am doing this right, hmm, just going to wing it and submit as is, don't kill me if i did SOMETHING wrong. XD
