The first thing Alfred could remember after blinking his eyes open to flickering florescent lights above was that Arthur had been taken. Immediately, he sat up, but reeled back in shock and gripped his head achingly. He pulled his hand away to find that his glove was coated with a thick layer of originally undetected blood. Suddenly pain throbbed through his body so much he could feel each heartbeat and winced every time his heart pumped blood through his veins. Then he started to become more aware of his surroundings and began to panic.
The walls were white, but something mysterious had dripped down along the layers of grime and dust that were caked on. The same was for the floor and ceiling, only more so for the ground. The room was completely empty, save a small black box, a strange looking clock on the wall, himself, and a small figure huddled in the corner of the room across from him.
Arthur.
Alfred almost screamed and laughed in joy that he wasn't alone, then nearly started crying in fear for Arthur, then just about kicked the wall in anger that they had been kidnapped.
Thoughts racing, he reached into his pocket, hoping to find that the kidnapper had been stupid enough to leave his cell phone there, but found something a little more interesting instead.
An envelope addressed to himself.
He tore it open carefully, as if he were afraid that something might explode in his face if he moved too quickly. What he found, though, was a tape and a small piece of paper with writing typed on it. It read:
Your way out is hard to digest.
Kill Arthur.
His eyes widened and his hand found its way to cover his gaping, gasping mouth. His heartbeat tripled its pace, creating more pain. Not that he cared. He had just been told to kill someone he cared deeply about, who he was staring at in fear. What were they going to do...?
Then another anguishing thought appeared in the back of his mind that made him audibly squeak -- which is not something a hero would do -- that maybe Arthur was already dead.
"A-Arthur...? Arthur?" He whispered, due to lack of use of his voice. "Arthur?!" He spoke louder. "GODDAMNIT ARTHUR! DON'T BE DEAD...!" He screamed, tears filling his eyes.
Then Arthur groaned and rolled over so Alfred could see his face. "Wh-what the bloody hell do you want...?" Arthur moaned in his heavy British accent.
"Arthur…!" Alfred sighed in relief as the Brit began to adjust himself.
"W-Where exactly are we?" Arthur inquired fearfully. "I'm not drunk, am I?" His widened green eyes pierced the American across from him, questioning.
"I don't think so…" Alfred murmured, choosing the easiest question to answer. He thought that Arthur had given up drinking… I should know better than to assume that much… He frowned thoughtfully.
"…Alfred…" Arthur's voice raised and shook as he noticed his surroundings. "What the bloody hell is this…?" He lifted up the lengthy rusted chain that connected his neck to the soiled wall.
"Arthur," Alfred ignored the Brit's question. "L-Look in your pockets. Give me whatever you find."
Arthur got a little defensive at this. "Why should I? What if I want to see it myself? It's my bloody pocket anyway!" He shoved his hands into his pockets, searching for whatever he thought Alfred might want (which, in a normal situation, he would have assumed it was just some coupon to McDonald's or something similar, and would have given it to him, not really caring, but this is not a normal situation, therefore, he was a tad bit tense). Arthur then pulled out a white envelope, just the same as Alfred's, only with his name on it. Arthur, in his gentlemanly ways, carefully tore the flap to the envelope and pulled out a white tape just like Alfred's.
"Give me that," Alfred demanded frantically.
"No! You have no right to it and it was for me," He declared smugly. "Hey, do you know what's in here?" He asked Alfred, referring to the black box between them.
"No idea," Alfred replied, barely paying the Brit any attention as the American studied his own chains. His legs and neck were chained to a wall, the same place Arthur's were. He noticed that Arthur also had his neck restrained, but not his legs. This isn't fair…! Alfred pouted in his thoughts. Arthur's not tied up as much as I am, and I still have to be the hero! His lips puckered into an uncharacteristic frown. He observed that there was a suspiciously ominous blade on his side of where their chains connected.
Alfred was thinking deeply on why this was when Arthur interrupted, "Oi, Alfred. Look at this." It seemed that the Brit had opened the black box to find that there was a tape recorder and another envelope to Alfred. The first thing Arthur did afterward was push his tape into the recorder and press the play button hesitantly. "Hello, Arthur. I'd like to play a game." a gravely, emotionless voice sent shivers down the blondes' backs. "Ever since July forth, 1776, you've been lost in a deep, hidden depression. You drink to make the loneliness and pain go away, though it never does much. You've never told anyone this, not even the person you care about most, who is sitting in the room with you. Now's your chance to tell him how you feel -- before he kills you. The key to set yourself free is somewhere in time. Live or die. Make your choice."
Arthur just stared at Alfred in shock. "Y-You're going to bloody kill me?!" Alfred was too terrified to say anything. He just held out his hand for Arthur to give him the cassette player. He shoved the tape in and heard the same eerie voice that was on Arthur's. "Hello, Alfred. Let's play a game."
"Let's not," Alfred shuddered.
"You live in a world where you are always the hero, but you hardly have enough courage to watch a scary movie to the end. You live off of hamburgers, soda, and coffee. You're so terrible at reading people's expressions and the situations going on around you, you didn't even notice the way Arthur looks at you and how he talks to you. Now you might be minutes away from your own personal destruction. Your way out of here is in Arthur. I believe you have something of equal importance to him, Alfred. But I wouldn't anger him if I were you -- that blade can kill you faster than you think when Arthur's in control -- as he is now. Just by pulling on the chain hard enough, he can divide your head from your body quite easily if he wanted to. You have forty-five minutes to get out before a deadly gas fills your body. Live or die. Make your choice." At the end of the voice's sinister speech, the room was wholly consumed with an ominously deafening silence.
First try at serious fanfiction/crossover. Sorry for ooc-ness, I just kinda figured they'd be a bit more serious in a life-or-death situation. ^_^ Please review!!
