Summary: Mathew and Alfred go to a haunted house that is truly haunted. The ghost kills people by licking them with its poisonous saliva or by dripping its blood, also poisonous, onto its victims, where it soaks into their skin, poisoning them, making them apathetic and generally uncaring except for at night when they get night terrors until they kill themselves. Mathew gets some of the blood it had smeared on the walls onto him when Alfred freaks out and pushes him into a wall by accident.

"Come on, Mattie. It will be totally fun." Alfred urged as he dragged his brother forward in the line to get into the haunted house attraction that had been put up on their block.

Confirming all rumours on their street of it possibly being haunted, the attraction was inside of the house that had been abandoned without any residents, or even cleaning done inside of it (At least that was what they had guessed when they snuck in that one time when they were twelve. But shhhhh, don't tell their Dad or Papa), for years.

"Alfred, it's probably filthy in there. No one even remembers the last person who lived there." Mathew said, valiantly trying to tug his arm out of his brothers iron strong grip.

"That just makes it so much cooler! Come on, Mattie, please? For me?" Alfred pleaded, trying to use his infamous puppy dog eyes to their best of his ability.

Mathew couldn't say no to that face. Even if it looked just like his, it could get away with so much more than Mathew ever could. Just like it always had.

"Fine." He sighed.

Alfred started jumping up and down and pumping his fist in the air. "Yes! Mattie, this will be great!"

"If you say so, Al."

'What?' Mathew thought, jumping back from the wall and rubbing his neck where he had felt a sudden wetness. 'My neck-the wall-why is it wet?'

*Later*

He just laid on his bed. It wasn't from lack of trying to get up, but he just couldn't seem to move. He saw Alfred poking his head into the room to check on him, but he didn't feel like moving. He wasn't even sure if he could. His limbs felt weighted, he couldn't move them. It was too much effort. Not a single thought passed through his mind as he laid there for hours. Sometimes he even forgot to breathe. He had lost his will to live. The ghost smiled. This was too easy.

Or, it wasn't.

This ghost was used to its victims wasting away within days after not even having the will to get up to drink. This young man, however, was still alive. He laid there, but the ghost could tell that while he was dying and was indeed getting weaker that it was so much slower than a normal human would.

It infuriated him.

Nooooo! The ghost screamed but stayed silent to the two nations who had forgotten who they were. He wanted to see that beautiful, stunning light leave the beautiful boy's eyes again and again and again. How dare he still be alive! Why was he even still living? This shouldn't be.

And he gnashed his teeth-no, fangs- in his deathly ghost-like silence.

Matthew's door was still closed, shut tight against everyone in the outside world like it had been since they had gone and visited that haunted house exhibit a week ago.

What was Mattie doing in there? He wasn't even coming out to eat. Alfred tried to tell himself that Matthew probably was eating...just at some time that Alfred couldn't see...like during the night! But Alfred was concerned about one thing in particular. Matthew had been crying every night since that time. And Mathew never cried. People may think Alfred was the strong one but his brother never seemed to switch from his ever-present smiles or self-deprecating grins.

'Don't you think you would have noticed if the sound had stopped at some point, any point, to go to the kitchen?' A voice was trying to tell him in his mind. Not just any voice either, no; it was The Voice. The same weird voice that had been talking to him for as far back as he could remember. Unlike in stories, his voice didn't sound like him, or anyone he knew. It sounded like an English dude about his age, hence why Matt and he called it the Weird Voice. Or, just The Voice. Generally, Mathew was the more polite of the two. Alfred, however, had no calms in addressing The Voice as Weird, so he did. As much as he could to annoy it.

It also talked back different than Al would if he was verbally sparring with his brother. Hence how annoying it was.

'Shut up, Voice.'

But it continued.

"Matthew wouldn't starve himself. He never has before and he wouldn't start now so randomly. He wouldn't. You know that. You know this is not right. You need to confront your brother. Ask him without running away like a coward why he isn't leaving his room. Figure it out. What if something supernatural is going on?'

Alfred scoffed at The Voice.

'Supernatural? Yeah right. I may get freaked out by ghosts but I'm not stupid. I know that ghosts aren't real...if what you're trying to imply is that he's been possessed or something like that. Why am I even still talking to you? Go away you limey bastard.'

'Why isn't your brother leaving his room? Answer me that and I'll leave you alone.'

Alfred banged his foot on the steps he was going up. Goddamn Voice and its goddamn commands making him less aware of his surroundings.

'I don't know okay!' He growled back at The Voice in his head. 'I just don't know. He doesn't want to talk. His doors closed. And I just don't want to force him...this is just kind of awkward, alright? What am I supposed to do when he's acting so out of the normal? It just doesn't make sense! Did I really scare him that much by dragging him along to that place that he can't go outside anymore? He's like never scared of anything. Yeah he'll grumble a bit and play act sometimes but he's tough and nothing ever seems to bother him.'

The Voice appeared to have ignored him as it seemed to talk to itself. 'Maybe Mathew triggered a waste-away curse?'

'Huh?'

But of course, whenever it started mentioning curses or fairies or magic of any kind, The Voice always got disgruntled at him when he tried to question it about...well them.

Or the Voice got mean and uppity...like now.

'Maybe you're right then, Alfred. Maybe it's your fault your brother is like this. Hmm? What would you do then?'

Alfred tried to glare inward or at least send waves of hate at The Voice. He was never too sure if it worked or not but it made him feel better about it okay!

He honestly hated The Voice at times. Though like, not actually, because you're not supposed to hate people. That's wrong.

'I'll fix it somehow! So there's nothing to worry about anyways!'

'Whatever you say.'

'Damn right I'm right. So stop mocking me, and go away. I need to check on Mattie.'

'You're not doing a very good job of it. You don't even know what is happening right now. You're so utterly oblivious it's actually impressive.'

'I CAN'T HEAR YOU.'

'Fine then Alfred, go half arse it and "check" on your brother.'

'I'm checking him just fine without input from you.'

'Go check on your brother, Alfred. It actually does need to be done to claim credit for it, you know. You're wasting both my time and yours by lolly-gagging around.'

Alfred's hand paused on its way to Mathew's doorknob.

The Voice seemed to gloat its way through its commentary. "Go on, Alfred. No more hesitating. Get on with it already.'

'...alright.'

Alfred knocked on his brother's door and called through the wooden panel, "Hey, Mattie? Are you okay in ther-"

"I'm fine, Al."

Mathew's voice was still as monotone as it had ever been over the past few days.

Alfred faked a smile anyways. "Hm, really? That's good. Hey listen, food is ready downstairs...if you want to eat it. Your other portions haven't really been touched the past few days-"

'At all.' The Voice interrupted.

"And I'd really like it if you could try even just a little."

"Fine."

The Voice also did not seem to like the sound of Mathew's voice as Alfred uneasily walked away. For once, both thought the same thing at the same time.

"No. This isn't fine."

The Voice paused to let him speak and seeing Alfred's own hesitation there, spoke again itself.

'Mathew needs help.'

Alfred nodded, "yeah..."

And an ocean away, an English man approached the homunculus that he'd set up with his personality and voice to communicate telepathically with his sort-of sons on the sly, even though they'd told him they wanted to live as humans and he'd used his magic to seal off their memories and all but their inability to die so that they could have that freedom...as their sort-of father he still worried about them at times. So he'd kept a way to keep track if them and yes it had been a while since he'd looked over what the homunculus thought was important but, really, nothing ever happened to his boys so a couple weeks absence from his little check-up wouldn't really matter much, hm?

He was wrong.

Just a few moments later when the memories merged with his Arthur knew exactly what had been going on. Better yet though, he could correct it.

That particular spirit could be banished. And not only did he know that (however much he tried to deny or ignore his abilities) Prussia could indeed banish the vengeful dead...he also knew that the man would do anything to see his "little birdie" again. Even if it meant pretending not to know him. Better yet, Alfred with his last answer had unlocked his release from the Wizard's Vow he and Mathew had made him swear to abide by in keeping their location and what had happened to them secret...until they asked for help.

So, what do you think? Continue?

Anything to change?

HUGS and WUVS lovelies

North of the North