A/N: A collection of murderous one-shots based on the song A Gorey Demise by Creature Feature. Each chapter focuses on one character's death, the death specified in the song. Some characters may be used multiple times, I'm not certain yet. Either way, I feel a little evil writing this, especially this first chapter.

I'm kind of nervous about this chapter, so please leave a review if you can. Let me know how I did or if I should just jump of a bridge. Well, I hope you enjoy this piece and thank you.

Method of Death: Drowning

Corpse: kid!America (human AU)

Alfred was far too much for a single parent to handle, a bright bundle of excitement and never-ending hyperness. Sometimes Arthur wished he could be a little more like his quiet brother Matthew. At the moment, both of the blond brothers were together in the living room, Matthew reading a book on animals while Alfred was jumping from sofa to sofa, yelling that he was a hero. Arthur did his best to put up with it, but when the sound of a breaking lamp reached his ears, he had had enough.

"ALFRED! How many times have I told you not to jump around like that!" Arthur yelled, storming into the front room, seeing a panicked Alfred picking up shards of ceramic. Matthew was standing behind him, unsure whether or not to help. Arthur's face was red with contained anger. He had really been fond of that lamp, little white fireflies against dark blue, given to him by his late wife, Francine.

"I'm sorry Artie!" the little boy apologized, face red and sniffling. "I just wanted to beat the bad guy!"

Arthur sighed, not understanding his son's obsessions with superheros and fighting imaginary criminals. He certainly worried about how he might turn out in the future. True, he was still just a young kid, and they were entitled to their imagination, but superheroes and eating were the only thing on the child's mind.

The bushy browed father was snapped from his thoughts when he heard a small yelp. Looking down, he saw blood trickling down from Alfred's hand, slowing dripping on the carpet. He had cut himself on one of the pieces of lamp. Grumbling, he took his son by the wrist and pulled him into the kitchen. Matthew, not sure what to do went back to reading on the couch, not wanting to be present for his father's lectures.

"Really, you need to be more careful," he said, picking up the child and putting him on the counter. Alfred, on the verge of crying nodded. Sticking the boy's hand under the water faucet, he washed away the blood from his palm. Drying it with a paper towel, he then applied pressure to stop and further bleeding.

"Hold this firm, okay Alfred," the father instructed, leaving the boy to put pressure while he searched through his cabinet trying to find a band-aid. Arthur always tried to keep at least a few in every room because of how often Alfred managed to hurt himself. Finding an unopened pack, he tore the box and took one of the strips out. He also grabbed the small tube of neosporin.

"I'm sorry Artie. I didn't mean to break the lamp," the small boy apologized when his father was back in front of him, pulling away the paper towel to see how the cut was. It wasn't too deep. With a sigh, he pat the boy on his blond head, trying to flatten down the one little strand that always refused to cooperate as he did so.

"I know you didn't mean to Alfred, but you're going to keep doing things you don't mean to if you keep playing roughly," Arthur said firmly, fixing up the cut with a little neosporin. "You really need to stop with this superhero business."

"But I want to be a superhero!" the boy replied, wiping away the small tears he was too stubborn to let fall.

"Alfred, superheroes aren't real. They're fictional, out of movies and comic door," Arthur tried to explain, placing the bandage on his skin. The boy shook his head.

"Nu-uh! They're real and I'm going to be one and and protect everyone and beat up anyone who bully Mattie or hurts Artie and and-" Alfred ranted, waving his arms about as if to emphasize how much he was going to help everyone. Watching his son speak about protecting him and his brother, the father smiled slightly. At least he wasn't just trying to beat up villains for the sake of beating up people. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let him have his fun for a little longer.

"Alright Alfred, but if you're going to be a hero, you're going to have to do it in the backyard, where there is a lack of breakable expensive things, okay," he smiled, placing the boy back down to the floor. The little boy smiled brightly from behind his glasses, nodding enthusiastically and jumping down. Arthur went to the sliding glass door and opened it, allowing the boy to run out into the backyard giggling and yelling.

"You can play for an hour, but then you're coming in and settling down, alright?" he called after the boy, watching his grab one of his balls that had the Captain America logo on it.

"Okay Artie!"

Arthur slid the door closed and went back inside to start working on dinner.

"I'm totally the coolest, strongest superhero ever!" The boy yelled out, tossing his ball into the air and punching it as it came back down. It rolled off into the grass and he ran to fetch it. "Yeah! Even superman would be jealous!"

Holding his arms out as if he was flying just like the man of steel, the boy made whooshing sounds as he zipped around the yard. He unfortunately tripped when the grass was ended by concrete. Falling face first, he gripped his nose in pain. He had skinned it when he fell, but it didn't seem to be bleeding, so he continued to zip around. Running about on the patio trying to find something to defeat, he eventually saw what he was looking for.

Next to their family pool sat Matthew's stuffed polar bear, laying on one of the wooden beach chairs. Alfred grinned wide, his heroic imagination kicking in. It wasn't his teddy bear on a beach chair anymore. Now it was Matthew's most beloved pet, whimpering and crying out for help as it was held captive by an evil monster, it's jaws ready to snap shut at any minute and gobble him up. And naturally Alfred was the little bear's only hope.

"Don't worry little bear! Super Alfie is here to save you!' he yelled triumphantly, posing just like any hero would. Arm out wide like a plane, he ran over to the chair by the pool, giggling despite the fact heroes should straightfaced and serious like most of his comic book idols.

Running up to the chair, the little boy didn't notice the discarded towel tossed on the cement next to the chair. As he extended his arms forward to swoop in and grab the bear, his foot got wrapped up in the towel, throwing him off balance and causing him to fall forward into the pool. Blue eyes wide in panic, he fell headfirst into the deeper end of the swimming pool, hitting his head against the side as he fell. Quickly losing consciousness and now disoriented, he flailed about, unsure which way was up or down or where the surface was. Never a strong swimmer, his father usually too busy to teach him, he could feel his lungs fill with water as he cried out in terror. Distorted blue was fading in and out and he found himself barely about to keep his eyes open, his glasses slipping off his face and hitting the bottom.

Body going limp as the little child's vision turned black, Alfred wished someone else could be the superhero for once. The little boy finally fell unconscious from his concussion and silently drowned at the bottom of his family's pool.

Arthur stirred away at the stew he making, savouring the thick aroma. He had cleaned up Alfred's mess and his other son had fallen asleep on the couch, holding his book close to his chest. The father smiled, picking up his oldest son gently in his arms and took him to his bedroom, laying his down on his bed to have a comfortable nap until dinner. Taking off his glasses, he put them on the nightstand and planted a soft kiss on the boy's forehead.

"Get some sleep Matthew," he smiled, leaving the boy to snuggle up with one of his many bears. Closing the door behind, Arthur decided to go and fetch the second boy. He had sent him out half an hour ago, but he was sure the boy was probably tired from running about. He'd probably pout from being called in early, but it wouldn't be long before he'd be snoring.

Sliding open the glass door, the blond man stuck his head outside, expecting to see the boy running around in circles or jumping through his garden. However, when all he saw was his backyard, he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, stepping out onto the patio, surprised at how quiet it was.

"Alfred! Time to come in!" he called out, hoping to hear something, a holler or laugh, even a small peep, but all there was was silence. Worried, he ventured further out, looking from the garage to the yard to the pool, looking for any sign of the boy who was hopefully just being a little brat and hiding. His cowlick sticking out from behind a bush or his feet sticking out from behind the garage. There was nothing.

"Alfred! This is not funny! Come out right now!' Arthur yelled, trying to contain his panic. "ALFRED!"

A sense of dread washed over him. He didn't see his son anywhere. Not in the yard, not hiding, he only spotted a spot of blond when he turned to the least likely of spots, the pool. Figure distorted by the water, a body was resting on the bottom of the pool, arms floating at his sides. Heart caught in his throat, Arthur prayed that he was just imagining things. Running to the side of the pool, he saw his boy on the bottom of the pool, not moving or struggling.

Jumping into the water, Arthur swam to the bottom and scooped the limp boy in his arms. Reaching the surface, he kept his son's head above the water. Pulling them both onto the concrete, Arthur place the buy on his back, nearly losing his breath when he realized Alfred had none. Desperately, he reached for his phone to call 911, but realized he hadn't taken it out of his pocket when he jumped into the water. It was ruined.

"MATT! COME OUT HERE NOW!" Arthur screamed, hoping he could wake his son from inside the house as he pressed against Alfred's chest, water spilling out from cold lips. Trying his best to perform cpr, he continued to scream for help, for his son, anyone at all. His loud cries did not go unheard, as his neighbor poked his head over the fence. Seeing the frantic father trying to revive his son, they rushed to call 911.

"DON'T DO THIS TO ME ALFRED!" he sobbed before blowing oxygen into his lung. Nothing was working, the boy's body just a deathly cold, limp and still. Tears were streaming down his face when he realized there was no hope. His dear son was already dead.

Arthur could only hear eerie silence, the ambulance's wail somewhere far off in the background smothered. Tears dripping down onto pale skin, Arthur tried again and again to resurrect his son, only stopping when paramedics pulled the hysterical man from the body.

Alfred F. Jones was pronounced dead 11/13/2013 at approximately 3:45pm.

A/N: I apologize for this. I just wrote about a child drowning. I feel horrible about it. The other's won't be as bad in terms of offing children I promise. Just blood and guts.

Oh and Francine is Nyo!France. Not a FrUk person, but meh, I put a wink for those who do.

So if you are interested in seeing any more of this, or just want to leave your opinion, kind or not so kind, please leave a review. It'd be highly appreciated if you do. Well, until next time.

Next:

Method of Death: Eaten By Ghouls

Victim: England