A halloween fic... in December. Yes, I know. I'm wierd.

Monsters!

Chapter One

The Halloween Party

"Arthur! Hey Arthur!"

As much as Arthur Kirkland would have wanted to ignore the loud American-accented voice, he knew that if he did, its owner would never cease to shut up. Slowing to a stop, he turned his head towards the source of the noise.

One Alfred F Jones.

An American through and through, Alfred was younger than Arthur - by how much, he didn't know, he never bothered to ask, and Alfred didn't seem to care either - and was practically everything Arthur was not.

He was boisterous, talkative and better at athletics than Arthur could ever hope, not that he'd ever tell the American that. Alfred always happily declared that they were friends, which Arthur, naturally, outwardly scoffed at. Inwardly, though, Arthur accepted this. Nobody else would put up with his bossy attitude and short temper - except, perhaps, that 'French frog' Francis - so to have at least one person who was willing to be friends was at the very least quite reassurring to the Brit.

"What is it, Alfred? Hurry it up, I'll be late for English Literature," Arthur said, wearing his trademark frown on his face. Alfred pouted at the latter half of the sentance before returning to his eager and over-excited expression.

"You know today's Halloween, right?" He exclaimed, beaming brightly at Arthur who seemed to become more irritated as the seconds rolled by.

"If that's all you wanted to say to me, Alfred," Arthur began, starting to turn away from Alfred to begin his walk to his next lecture again, before he was stopped by the American grabbing him by the arm and turning him around again.

"No no no no! That's not it, I was just saying," Alfred quickly sputtered before collecting himself again, "No, today's Halloween, right? Right! So, Francis said - Wait, Arthur, just listen!"

Upon hearing the name "Francis", Arthur decided that whatever Alfred had to say wasn't worth listening to anymore, and had begun to walk away again. But Alfred, once again, grabbed him by the arm and stood in front of him, blocking his path. "Arthu-" "Alfred, whatever that bloody Frog is doing today is not interesting 'in the least' for me, so I don't want to hear it," The exasperated Brit stated quite sternly, wanting to get it into Alfred's thick skull that he didn't give a toss.

"I know, but, please, at least hear me out," Alfred was now pouting. This was exactly what happened if someone tried to ignore him. Knowing that he'd definately be late for his lecture if he kept insisting on not listening, Arthur sighed and told his American friend to carry on. Now wearing a huge triumphant smile on his face, Alfred began speaking again.

"So, anyway, Francis told me he's having a Halloween party at his place tonight, it'll be all fancy wear, man! There'll be booze and everything! So, um, I was thinking.." He trailed off slightly, looking to the ground then back at Arthur again, as if contemplating something. Arthur had a feeling he already knew what was going to be asked. "I was thinking.. if you wanted to come?"

Arthur's expression remained unchanged. Of course. Of course Alfred wanted him to come. In the American's opinion, Arthur wasn't having enough "fun". So of course he'd ask.

"No," Was his reply.

Later on in the day, Arthur regretted saying that.

It wasn't because he actually wanted to go after all. It was because Alfred would not accept that as a legitimate answer. Every spare moment he had between classes for the rest of the day was spent trying to ignore Alfred's pleas. It was getting annoying. What was so great about a party anyway? Especially one hosted by Francis bloody Bonnefoy. The frenchman was a well known pervert and womanizer, not to mention he kept sprinkling his sentences with french words and phrases - and that annoyed Arthur to no end. What made the man worse that he took delight in teasing Arthur in every possible way.

And he meant every. Possible. Way.

"Pleeeeaaaase Arthur, I'll make sure Francis doesn't do anything wierd, I promise! So please come!" Alfred was sitting across from him at a table in a currently unused room Arthur was using to finish up some assignments. Needless to say, with all of Alfred's chatter, Arthur didn't get much done.

"If I say yes, will you stop nagging me?" Arthur spat, he was getting quite tired of this. Alfred's face immedeately took on a bright and cheery expression with served to irritate Arthur slightly. He immedeately leaped out of his chair and fist pumped the air in triumph. How childish.

"Yeeeeeeeeessssssssss! Score one for the hero!". A yes, the hero business. Alfred fancied himself a hero, though Arthur thought differently on the matter. Alfred sat back down and leaned across the table to get closer to Arthur, who instinctively leaned back in his chair a little. "We totally gotta get you some good clothes, man!"

Arthur gulped.

What have I gotten myself into?

xoxox

Francis' party started at eight. Alfred's last class of the day was at three. Arthur's was at four.

Alfred spent nearly three hours dragging Arthur around the stores for something to wear that night.

Arthur felt it to be the most excrutiating three hours of his life.

In the end, the two bought an assortment of clothes to make up their party-wear. Alfred wore a white dress shirt, an unbuttoned black waistcoat, a pair of dark brown pants, a pair of dark brown shoes, a bright orange jacket (Arthur - "why orange!"), a pair of black gloves and finally a white plastic hockey mask, which was held on the left side of his head.

Arthur wore a blue waistcoat - buttoned up - which was worn over a black and white striped dress shirt, a dark blue cape, a pair of white pants, a pair of black shoes and a pair of black gloves. Naturally, Arthur thought he was dressed better than Alfred.

Alfred thought he kinda looked like an old man.

The two arrived at Francis' place sometime around half past eight, and were greeted at the door by the Frenchman himself and Geraint, one of Arthur's older half-brothers.

"Ah, Arthur! I see Alfred convinced you to come! How wonderfull!" Francis' slightly accented voice grated on Arthur the moment he heard it. He scowled at the frenchman and looked him over before deciding his brother was more interesting to speak to.

Francis was dressed almost completely in white, with only the cuffs and collar of his long coat bieng blue. His shoulder length blonde hair was tied back with a lacy white ribbon, making Arthur believe he looked too feminine for his liking. Well, Arthur didn't much like long hair on any guy.

"Geraint," He began, acknowledging his older half-brother who stood closely behind Francis at the door. Alfred had begun an animated conversation with Francis behind Arthur's back. "I wasn't aware that you'd be here,".

Geraint was around the same height as Arthur - which came as somewhat of a relief to him, Alfred and Francis were both taller than him - and he also shared the same green eyes as him. What made him different, was his hair and voice. His hair was brown and was down to his shoulders - Arthur hated this, and would always tell Geraint this - and was often not combed or tidied, making it look a mess. His voice was soft and slightly airy, only becoming rough and harsh if he lost his temper - something else the two shared, a short temper. He also held a slight Welsh accent, a remnant of his childhood spent in Wales. This evening Geraint was dressed in all black - a stark contrast to Francis - a long sleeved shirt and pair of jeans, with what Arthur could only guess as a blanket slung over his shoulders in a somewhat half-hearted attempt at a cloak.

"Uh, well, yeah," He began, shuffling in place, "Francis invited me,".

What kind of fascination did Francis have with Geraint? Arthur really didn't want to know.

"I asked Iain and Isabeal to come, too," Geraint continued, keeping Arthur's attention on him. Before Arthur could grace Geraint with a reply, Alfred grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside. Geraint followed the two as quickly as he could, Francis following closely - a little too closely, Geraint felt.

Francis somehow scooted in front of Alfred and Arthur, and, wearing a smile that Arthur felt was a bit lecherous, led them to a room where the so-called party was bieng held. Once he stepped into the room, he saw who it was that Francis had invited.

Sitting on the couch were three people; Feliciano Vargas, an Italian arihead if Arthur remembered correctly, who was wearing a green waistcoat over a pale cream dress shirt, and a pair of brown pants tucked into a pair of black boots. To his left was Ludwig Beilschmidt, a rather stoic German with whom Feliciano was talking very excitedly to, he simply wore a black dress shirt, pale cream jeans and black shoes. Arthur couldn't understand how the two were as good friends as they were. Then again, his only friend was Alfred. To Ludwig's left sat the German's older brother, Gilbert Beilschmidt, who grinned quite mischieviously at the one-sided conversation his brother and Feliciano were having. Gilbert wore a black hoodie and what looked like a black and white striped shirt underneath it, a pair of blue jeans and black shoes.

If Arthur had to hazard a guess, it'd be that Feliciano and Gilbert were invited, and Ludwig was dragged along. It was well known around University of Gilbert and Francis' friendship, as well as Francis' strange fixation on Feliciano.

Then again, Francis had a strange fixation on a quite a few people. (Much to Arthur's annoyance, since he was one such fixation).

On another couch were a further two people; Lovino Vargas, Feliciano's older brother, who dressed similarly to his brother, only his clothes were of a darker colour, and next to him, smiling brightly and trying to start a conversation, was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a bit of a dim Spaniard, if you were to ask Arthur. He cocked an eyebrow at Antonio, more specifically, at what he was wearing.

Why the bloody hell is he dressed like a matador?

Arthur decided to keep the thought to himself.

Antonio was another of Francis' close friends - Arthur wasn't even going to attempt to figure out how - and Arthur guessed that Lovino was here either because of Feliciano, or Antonio.

Or perhaps both.

"Aw, man, Mattie ain't here yet!" Whined Alfred as he sat himself down on an empty armchair. Geraint quickly brushed past Arthur and sat next to Gilbert, probably to avoid Francis.

"Well, neither are Iain and Isabeal," He began, looking to Aflred's direction, "It is only half past eight,"

"Oui, the party has just barely begun, Alfred, dearest Matthieu won't be long, I'm sure~" Sang Francis as he waltz to the middle of the room. Arthur frowned.

Matthew Williams. Alfred's twin. Their parent's seperated when they were young, explaining the differing surnames. The two looked similar, but Matthew's eyes were of a violet hue instead of Alfred's bright blue, and his hair was longer and wavier. Matthew was a whole lot quieter than Alfred, and quite timid to boot. He was often forgotten about. Well, to everyone except Francis and Gilbert.

Arthur sighed to himself. This was going to be a long night.

xoxox

It was now ten o'clock.

Matthew had arrived about ten minutes after Alfred and Arthur, wearing a black and red hoodie and black jeans. Alfred had scolded him for not even attempting to dress up, but Matthew shrugged him off rather easily.

At around nine thirty, Arthur's remaining siblings had turned up; Iain and Isabeal. For some inexplicable reason, Isabeal had brought along Seanan, who, at 16, became the youngest guest at the party. All three were half-siblings to Arthur and Geraint, Iain was the oldest, followed by Isabeal, and Seanan was the youngest. Well, not the youngest of Arthur's dysfunctional family, given that they had yet another half-brother who was younger than Seanan somewhere in England. They all shared a father, of which none had any contact with, and all grew up seperately. Arthur once questioned the chances of them all coming to live in the same area against all odds once, but no longer bothered with the strange coincidence.

Iain, a fairly tall man with straight, shoulder length reddish-brown hair, came wearing a grey dress shirt, a pair of ripped jeans and a pair of old trainers. Isabeal wore a dark red dress that was deliberately torn and ripped at the ends, it complimenting her own long red curly hair. Seanan - sharing the same red hair as Isabeal, but cut as short as Arthur's, to his delight - wore a sweatervest and a pair of ripped jeans. He, like his half-sister, had his face be plastered with freckles. Each shared the same green eyes as Arthur and Geraint.

So now Arthur sat, holding a beer can in one hand, on the couch he'd commandeered off Lovino and Antonio when the two agreed to play a drinking game with Gilbert and Matthew. Ludwig and Feliciano had not moved from the couch Arthur saw them in when he first arrived, the only change in picture bieng that Ludwig was drinking beer and Feliciano some wine. Isabeal had begun getting drunk almost as soon as she started drinking - as much as she loved alcohol, the poor girl could never hold the stuff - and Seanan sat beside her, looking as if he were looking out for her but was in fact snatching a drink of her alcohol when she wasn't looking. How on earth did he convince his mother to let him come? Arthur thought to himself.

Francis had noticed the inebriated woman and was now clearly trying to take advantage of her, first luring Seanan away with a can of beer - giving alcohol to minors, tut tut, Frog - then taking a seat next to her. He was foiled before his plan truly begun, as Iain - now in 100% protective big brother mode - had noticed what he was doing and was now angrily chasing him around the room.

Arthur supressed a chuckle. It was funny, seeing the frenchman run, absolutely terrified, from the tall, angry scotsman. Geraint was trying in vain to stop him. Seanan found it just as funny as Arthur, and made no attempt to hide it.

"You ok, Arthur? You're not getting drunk like Izzy, aren't you?" Came a voice from Arthur's right. It was Alfred. The American was keeping himself close to Arthur for some undiscernable reason, but the alcohol was making Arthur care less than he usually would.

"Pft, no," Yes. Alfred let out a laugh, chugging his own can happily. "If I get drunk, and I get a hangover, I'm blaming you, yank," Arthur mumbled, finishing off his own can. Alfred just laughed harder in reply.

Without warning, all the lights in Francis' house turned off. This caused a chain of events.

"What?" It was Iain, he'd stopped his chasing of Francis to ponder the situation.

"Ow! Francis!" "Ooh~ We're in an interesting position, Geraint~" "J-just get off me!"

Francis didn't realise he wasn't bieng chased anymore, and ran into Geraint, considering he couldn't see where he was going.

"Aaah! Blackout! Ludwig! Protect me!" Feliciano started to cling to Ludwig in fright, and the German did his best to reassure Feliciano that nothing would happen - it was just a blackout.

"Aah, how un-awesome. Francis, your flashlight's in the kitchen, right?" Gilbert. Arthur could not see where he was, but could hear him walk across the room.

"Oui, but I'm not sure if they have batteries,". Arthur had a feeling Francis was on his feet again, as his voice sounded as if it was coming from higher up above him. He then heard someone walking again, and guessed it was probably Gilbert leaving the room to find the flashlight.

Hee... hee... hee...

"What the fuck was that?" Lovino questioned, sounding irritated and freaked out at the same time.

Alfred stiffened. What if it was a ghost? He may be a hero, but ghosts are freaking creepy! To comfort himself, he clung to Arthur.

"Oh piss off, Alfred! Let go!", Arthur was batting his head with his empty can, but it wasn't doing much to budge Alfred. Alfred ignored the tapping of the can on his head and turned his head to where he thought Francis was standing.

"Francis, you fucker! You're is fucking haunted!" He yelled, causing Arthur to hit him a little harder this time, making Alfred let out a tiny yelp. Feliciano could be heard whining a little to Ludwig, and Francis made a disbelieving sound, and Alfred imagined him rolling his eyes, too.

"Alfred, ghosts aren't real, they're fictional," Scoffed the Frenchman, sighing to himself. Alfred felt challenged by the denial, so he leaped to his feet to start counter-arguing.

"They so are real! Didn't you hear that giggling just now?" He argued, clenching his fists and temproarily forgetting about his fear.

"It was probably just Gilbert, trying to scare us. You are aware of what he's like," Countered Francis. Alfred gritted his teeth. Yes, this did sound like something Gilbert would do for kicks, but Alfred felt as though it was someone else making the noise. Damn, is this what Arthur feels when we say fairies aren't real?

A howl broke out in the distance.

The whole room went quiet.

"Aaah it's a wolf!" Alfred heard Feliciano move closer to Ludwig, and he imagined him wrapping his arms around the German tightly. "Protect me, Ludwig, it's going to eat me!"

Alfred heard a heavy sigh from behind him, he turned around to look despite not bieng able to see in the dark. "Oh calm down, it's just a dog or something,", oh, it was Iain. It wasn't hard to tell, since his Scottish accent was rather heavy. "Iain is right, we don't get wolves in the UK,", came another voice from behind Alfred. He didn't turn to look this time, since he knew it was just Arthur. Despite bieng told this, it was obvious from his wimpers that Feliciano was still not letting go of his grip on Ludwig. Alfred heard him heave a long-sufferring sigh.

I've been in England for almost a year now, but I've never heard a dog howling like that before.. Alfred thought to himself.

"Tonight's just getting creepier and creepier," Stated Matthew, but, as usual, no one took notice of his quiet voice.

"Lovi~, you can hold on to me if you're scared!" Antonio's cheery voice stole the attention of the room, and Alfred automatically pictured his smiling face. Alfred heard Antonio bieng hit, but obviously not that hard since he didn't react very loudly.

"As if I'd ever cling to you!" Came Lovino's voice, which sounded as if he was attempting to hide any fear he had, "And I'm not scared!" The older Italian added as an afterthought. Alfred heard Antonio giggle lightly in return, and imagined that the comment musn't have phased him that much.

"Oh, Isabeal's passed out," Came Seanan's Irish voice. Alfred heard someone getting to their feet and walk across the room.

"I told her not to drink so much," Came an exasperated airy voice, it was Geraint. "I don't want to drag her sorry ass back to the dorms,"

"Couldn't find the stupid flashlight," Came Gilbert's voice as he returned. Alfred heard him continue to walk across the room. "We'd probably get some light if we open the blinds, though,"

Alfred heard someone else begin to walk, "Ah, of course, the streetlights should give us enough light to see,", Just Francis. Alfred figured he must've followed Gilbert to open the blinds. Alfred inwardly thanked whoever invented streetlamps as the blinds were opened, as he could now actually see everyone in the room now.

Like he thought, Feliciano was indeed clinging onto Ludwig for dear life, while Ludwig looked tense at the close contact. Antonio was smiling brightly at Lovino, while the latter was scowling and facing away from the Spaniard. Isabeal was sprawled across the floor with Seanan and Geraint sitting next to her, and Alfred saw Iain walking over to them as well. Gilbert and Francis stayed near the window, talking about how to get the power back.

Between Francis and Gilbert's chatter, Feliciano's whining, Lovino's angry noises, and Arthur's heavy sighing made the room a lot less quiet. It was still not as loud as it had been, but Alfred welcomed it anyway. If there was one thing he'd never admit to, it was that total silence bothered him a lot. He heard Iain grunting and, turning to look at him, saw that he had lifted Isabeal up.

"Francis, I'm taking Isabeal to somewhere more quiet for her to lie down," He stated, turning to walk out of the room without even looking at Francis' direction, "Hopefully I can get the stupid little twat to wake up," He muttered under his own breath, though Alfred managed to catch it. Geraint and Seanan followed their older half-brother out of the room, Geraint pausing momentarily to glance at Arthur before continuing. Alfred then heard a quiet, barely audible sigh that almost made him jump until he realised it was just Matthew. Turning to face him, he silently scolded himself for briefly forgetting about his twin before walking over to him and sitting next to him.

Before Alfred could get a word out to his brother, the room was silenced again by a rumble of low growls.

"Freaky," Matthew breathed, as Felicino began whining louder and burying himself further into Ludwig, while Alfred caught Lovino inching a little closer to Antonio, whose attention was elsewhere. To try and get his mind off the noises that were disturbing him, Alfred faced Arthur and asked for the time.

"Nearly twenty to eleven," The Brit unenthusiasically replied. He muttered something else under his breath that Alfred couldn't quite catch the entierty of, only hearing Waste of time, which Alfred assumed meant the party.

The growling errupted once again, this time quite clearly louder.

"This is getting extremely unnerving..." Ludwig managed to say after a few moments of silence. Feliciano replied by burying his face into Ludwig's chest, wimpering softly in fright.

"Oh, Bruder, you're such a wimp!" Laughed Gilbert, though it was obvious to Francis, still standing next to him near the window, that he was getting nervous as well.

Alfred tried to make sense of the growling. They first heard giggling, which Francis was convinced was only Gilbert playing a prank. But then, if that were the case, why didn't he say anything about it? They then heard the howling, which both Iain and Arthur were convinced was just a dog, but Alfred wasn't so sure himself. The growls came afterwards, getting progressively louder. Alfred knew no one said anything because they wanted to believe it was nothing, but he felt as though something was wrong, something was going to happen. The howling and the growling could very well have been a dog, but that only meant that there was a potentially dangerous animal outside. Yet none of that reasoning explained the giggling. Alfred knew it wasn't Gilbert, but couldn't prove it. He was afraid of it bieng a ghost, but that thought was better than it bieng a stranger in the house, right?

Either way, that's a bad thing...

Alfred was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of shattering glass and frightened screams - which Alfred thought belonged to both Vargas brothers. He looked to the window and his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

A dog.

A very big dog.

And it looked vicious.

Gilbert and Francis, the two closest to the window, looked as if they had only just managed to scramble out of the way, Gilbert looking surprised and Francis looking frightened and slightly confused. Alfred leaped to his feet, and did a quick scan of the room to find where everyone was.

Matthew, who had been sitting silently beside him on the floor, was already on his feet and racing to the hallway. Alfred caught a part of a sentance spoken by his twin hurriedly, something about going to Iain and Geraint. Alfred didn't care that Matthew had been first to bolt - it just reassured him that his family was safe and away from danger. Alfred quickly stepped to the side to avoid bieng bitten by the massive beast and watched as both Ludwig and Gilbert - both at opposite sides of the room, with Ludwig holding Feliciano protectively - threw an assortment of things at the dog to get it to stop lunging at Alfred.

He felt something brush against his side, and turned just in time to see Antonio leading Lovino out of the room. That was good. More people are safe. That was good. He was almost bowled over by Francis a moment afterwards, who was muttering a vast array of French to himself in a panic. Alfred didn't know what he was saying - he sucked at French in high school, and besides, Matthew was fluent so he felt as though he didn't need to know - but ignored it to look at the dog again.

It was now mostly harrasing Ludwig and Feliciano, but occasionally turning around briefly to snap at Gilbert, who looked extremely determined. Big brother mode Alfred thought, A brother's greatest asset!

Wait, Arthur!

Alfred mentally slapped himself for his stupidity, and turned to the couch Arthur was sitting on.

Only to find it empty.

He's not there? Alfred quickly scanned the room, but didn't see the Brit anywhere. He must've already left,

Satisfied that his friend was somewhere safe, he put his full attention on the scene in front of him. The dog stood between Ludwig and Feliciano and the door, effectively trapping them where they were. Gilbert was doing an honourable job at trying to distract the thing, but Feliciano's cries kept bringing its attention back to them. Time to be a hero, Alfred thought, and bounded to Gilbert's side.

He grabbed anything he could easily lift and threw it at the huge dog - mostly cans and bottles, some empty, some full - and yelled loudly, hoping that he could get it's attention and keep it long enough for Ludwig and Feliciano to go. Beside him Gilbert was also yelling while throwing things, the only difference bieng that he was yelling angrily in German. Between the two, they managed to finally get the dog to start harrassing them instead, which in turn, forced the two to start backing off a little as it started to creep towards them.

When Alfred got a good look at the dog, something in his head clicked into place. The previous howling and growling instantly replayed and he suddenly realised why he was so unsure of wether they were really hearing dogs or not.

"It's a wolf!" Alfred felt himself yelling in horror, subsequently hearing Feliciano scream in fright. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to voice it so loudly. He shook the thoughts away - this wasn't important, what was was keeping the dog - wolf, wolf, it's a fucking wolf - occupied with himself and Gilbert. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ludwig and Feliciano exit the room swiftly, and smirked in triumph.

Job done,

"Great! Bruder and Feliciano have gone," Gilbert breathed beside him, still throwing things, "I have an idea, help me grab that coffee table!"

Without thinking or wondering why Gilbert needed this coffee table, Alfred did as he was told, and looked at Gilbert once before the albino gave a very confident smirk.

"Throw it!"

And they did.

The wolf let out a very satisfying yelp of pain and surprise as the small table landed on it, and, without hesitating, Alfred and Gilbert ran out of the room themselves. While Gilbert carried on through the hallway, Alfred stopped and turned back to the doorway of the room, and slammed the door shut, hoping to keep the vicious wolf at bay.

A wolf.. Alfred stared at the shut door, the whole house now eerily quiet. There are no wolves in the UK, so where did that one come from?

Alfred walked to the next room over, the one Iain had taken Isabeal to, to see if either he or Matthew were still there. Peering in, he saw the room was empty, and briefly wondered where everyone could be, and why the house was so quiet.

"Alfred!". Arthur?

The American went back out into the hallway to see his friend running towards him in the hallway. Alfred ran up to him, meeting him just outside the room the wolf was shut into. Arthur looked out of breath and slightly shaken, but was otherwise unharmed.

"Arthur! What's wrong?"

"There's a man in the house, Alfred! He's tried taking me, we need to go, now" Arthur said with determination, facing Alfred with genuinely fearfull eyes. Before Alfred could reply, the two were knocked to the ground, with such a tremendous force that it knocked Arthur out. Summoning all his energy, Alfred leaped to his feet and faced whatever it was that ran into them.

Arthur was right, there was a man in the house. And Alfred was staring at him. Feeling very angry and protective - thinking about what happened to Arthur only seconds before - Alfred charged him with the full intent on taking him out. The man smirked amusedely, making Alfred a little more irritated, and simply grabbed the front of Alfred's shirt as he got close enough, holding him as if he were a rag doll. Then, with such strength Alfred had never seen in a man, threw Alfred into the door of the front room - the same one the wolf had crashed minutes before - causing it to break off its hinges. Alfred landed in a heap on the floor of the room, momentarily winded and dumfounded.

Arthur

Alfred got to his feet as quickly as he could, and exited the room just in time to see the abnormally strong man leave through the front door - holding Arthur over his shoulder.

"Get back here right now, bastard!" Alfred yelled as loudly as he could, running as fast as he could towards him. The man looked back, still smirking arrogantly, and broke into a run himself - easily tripling the speed Alfred was running at.

The American did not let this get to him, continuing to give chase into the streets and up the road. However his exaustion at the night's events caught up to him, and he found himself slowing down to his dismay. The man did not falter in his sprint, continuing at the same pace until he was eventually out of Alfred's sight. Alfred gasped despairingly, trying desperately to keep running, but found himself to tired to continue. He slowed to a stop, panting extremely hard and his legs throbbing, and fell to his knees in the middle of the road.

"God dammit!" He punched the ground in frustration, panting and quivering. He was supposed to be a hero! But he couldn't even save his best friend when he needed him most. What kind of a friend and hero am I?

Alfred's phone started to ring in his pocket, making him jump as he was not expecting any sort of noise. He contemplated just ignoring it, but told himself that it could be important, and so pulled it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID.

Matthew.

Having not seen Matthew since the wolf incident, Alfred answered the phone, eager to know if his twin was alright.

"Matt-"

"Alfred! Where are you!"

Alfred was taken aback at how distressed Matthew was. He sounded as if he was trying his hardest to keep his voice steady, and it also sounded rough, as if he'd been yelling too loudly.

"I - I'm up the road, Matt, what's-"

"It's Francis!"

Francis?

"Francis? What about him..?"

There was a brief pause in which Alfred swore he could hear Matthew crying, making him more worried than he was when he took the call.

"He, he, he's hurt really bad! Alfred, he might die!"

Francis... might die!

What the hell happened in that house since he left? Alfred hung up immedeately. There was no need for hesitation.

He needed to get back to the house. Now

I feel wierd for writing a halloween fic right after Christmas. 8U

Anyway, yes. I have OC's in there. They are;

Geraint = Wales

Iain = Scotland

Isabeal = Ireland

Seanan = Northern Ireland.

They're all mine~ I have another fic centred on them, if you're interested~ Just click my name and find it, it's the only other Hetalia fic I've , check my sketchblog if you want to have a rough idea of what they look like - KLFoxglove (dot) Blogspot (dot) Com.

The list of characters I've planned to appear is huuuuuge. I have the feeling this will be a very long fic. I mean, this is the longest chapter I've ever written to date! Over 5,000 words! Wow.

Anyway, read, review, enjoy!

~KLFoxglove