I could have helped
Chapter one: Is there someone?
I stood there, neither more nor less, covered in fresh blood. Don´t misunderstand me... it wasn´t my blood. No the hero never got injured, he helps and saves people!
Always...
~~oOoOo~~
It had been a normal day like every other, England stood up in the morning, went to his kitchen, made something to eat and meanwhile listening to the radio.
Yesterday, another dead body had been found by 6 year old Anna Wishler. This time it had been a young student from 'Fordery High', a big sports- highschool. He was 22 years old and had been studying there for 2 years. This year would have been his final. The victim was found near the Downing Street...
"That´s near my house... ."
... also the police announced that the boy was beaten unconscious with a baseball bat before they brought him to the main current scene, what the many bruises and broken bones confirm. After that the perpetrator waited till the poor boy woke up, in order to torture him till his death. This is the 9th death the last two months... the police confirms, that this is a case about a serial killer who picks their victims after facial appearances, because every victim has had short blond hair and green eyes. Were in their mid 20/25 with a slender body.
"Great... just grea...!", he started to complain but got cut off by the shrill sound of his phone. 'Damn, who the fuck is calling me at this time ?!' Slowly he got up from his old wooden chair, and went to the main floor where his phone proudly on a old and with a bit dust covered desk stood. Hesitantly he grabbed the receiver.
"HY DUDE! Artie~ " everywhere, really everywhere he would be able to exactly tell who was phoning him at this ridiculess time of the day, by only hearing that voice, "Alfred... what do ... err you want?"
"Err Enlgand is everything alright?"
"Sure GIT! Now tell me what you want you bloody wanker!"
"But Engl-"
"No nothings up okay? Just that near my house a person got murdered who looked exactly like me okay a bit different but-"
"ARTHUR! Man, calm down! You are like totally freaking out right now! Keep it down or ya will die of a heart attack!"
"Idiot... I AM calm... so kch what do you want? Why did you even call me?"
'Something really isn´t right with me...' the Brit thought, completely ignoring the insult the snickering American threw out.
CRASH
"ARRGHHH! Shit what the bloody hell?!", Arthur screamed into the receiver. Totally forgetting that America was still on the phone. He put the black object on top of the table and went back into his worn out kitchen, where the sound had come from, only to find a plate crashed into thousands of shards on the floor. It stunned him how the platter got to this place, because he never placed it where the thing now laid. At the time England got the call from Amercia the plate laid, with food on top of it, on the table three meters away from its new resting place "Anyone here? If there is someone show yourself NOW!", he demanded.
Slowly but surely the Brit got annoyed. A small sound attrackted his attention. It came from the second floor.
Totally forgotten was the phonecall from Alfred who on the other hand heard Arthur shouting something but couldn´t completely understand what. A feeling of utter dread started to form in his stomach: "Artie..? Are you really alright? I mean this noise... what was that? Ehm Artie..? Hello is there anyone? What the..?! Arthur you better tell me NOW what's happening okay! I can hear you! I know you´re there! Hy come on dude, that's so not funny!"
No response from the other end.
"Arthur okay, that isn´t funny anymore! I will come and check on you right now!"
`THUD´
"A..aaa...rr..thur...? Hello, please, cco..mee on,...this is so not funny!", cold sweat started to run down his tensed up spinal and made him trembel. Suddenly the whole line went dead. No rumbling, rustling or whispers could be heard anymore. `That´s enough, I will check on him now ... wait he said something about...a Murderer...´
...
"OH MY GOD! Arthur you better be okay or else I will punch you so hard that you will never recover from that!" He started to search for his own hand pistol which he found under his bomberjacket. Instantly a bunch of memories hit him like a hard rock on the head.
Seems like it was yesterday
when I saw your face
So yeah, that's the first story I uploaded (so please no flames okay?)... Haha lol never thought I would actually do it... But hy surprise ;) Also please if you read this could you please give me a feedback about my writing-style and how I could improve it :D If you want and have time of course!
Until next time :)
