Hello people! I decided to try out a new story. Related to law. Hmm, I'm not expecting to be fantastic at this, but if anyone can help me in the future chapters, I'll be delighted. Anyways, let me tell you a bit about the story. Or more specifically, the names I'll be using.
Francis Bonnefoy – France
Arthur Kirkland – England
Yao Wang – China
Airini Grace – New Zealand
Any more people used will be mentioned later. Enjoy. And please, review, eh?
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia. If I did, France and England would be making out more often and we'd be able to see it.
The House Of Mr. Walters and Ms. Grace On Kennington Road [5:32 pm]
There was a knock on her door. White teeth flashed as the blonde woman looked up from her files, glancing at the clock and smiling before turning her attention to the door. She adjusted her blue shirt, making sure it looked proper before putting her pen down and leaning back in her seat, calling out.
"Come in! You're right on time!"
The door opened to admit a shadowy figure. The blonde's smile dropped and she squinted as the lights in her office seemed to dim a bit. Maybe the light controller is faulty…
"Why don't you come into the light? I can't see you properly."
There was no reply. Aquamarine eyes blinked in confusion and a lightly tanned hand reached for the remote that controlled the lights. Why was he in the dark anyways? But her hand never reached the remote control.
There was a jingle of a bracelet.
The gleam of metal as it arced through the air.
A shout muffled by a blue scarf.
Soft pitter-patters as blood dripped to the ground.
Glassy blue eyes staring up at nothing.
A dim figure slipping out of the room.
The door swung open as a man came inside, calling for his sister. Green eyes widened in horror as they saw the blood, saw the prone body of the woman slouching in the leather seat. He let out a cry, jumping forward, trying to see if the girl was okay, to see if there was any way he could save her. But there was nothing he could do. Too late. It was too late…
The House Of Mr. Wang On Kennington Road [5:49 pm]
There was a knock on the cherry-wood door, making the longhaired man seated behind his beautiful mahogany desk blink and frown slightly before glancing at the calendar. The word 'meeting' was written and circled in a bright red marker so he would not forget about it. Brown eyes flickered over the paperwork in front him and to the door before the man replied, his tone quiet and accented.
"Come in, aru. I was waiting for you." He put his pen down, resting his elbows on the desk and letting the long sleeves of his red mandarin jacket fall down his arms and rest in scarlet pools on the table, around his elbows. The door opened. A shadowy figure stepped inside. The dark-haired man squinted, trying to discern the figure before blinking.
There was a flash of brown.
The glint of a silver blade.
A smothered scream of pain.
Then there was silence.
A soft rustle of clothes.
A silhouette gliding out of the house.
A short while later, the door opened again. A blond man rushed forwards, hands on the knife embedded in the other man's body, blood getting on his hands as he tried to remove the knife. Two males suddenly came in through the open door, eyes widening at the sight. They barely gave the blond any time to respond, knocking him out and calling the police.
"Hello? Police?..."
The police burst in through the door just as the blond was sitting up. He gave a groan, bringing a hand to his head to feel the wound. Just as he did that, a hand caught his wrist, blue eyes staring down at the blond man with slight regret before putting the handcuff on.
Snip.
The other wrist was also cuffed. The officer finally spoke.
"Francis Bonnefoy, I am arresting you on the suspicion of the murder of Yao Wang and Airini Grace. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. You have the right to a solicitor present during questioning. If you cannot afford a solicitor, then one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have said them?"
House Of Mr. Kirkland On Lambeth Road [6:01 pm]
Brrrrrrrrrrrring! Brrrrrrrrrrring!
A groan sounded from under the blankets as a pale hand shot out to grab the phone. The call was accepted and the man sat up in his bed, putting the phone to his ear and growling, green eyes flicking to the clock.
"This had better be bloody important. I just came back from America today and I'm dead tired."
There was a pause on the other line. A small hesitation before the person cleared his throat and spoke again.
"Mr. Kirkland?"
"Yes, its me."
"How fast can you get down to Kennington?"
The police officer didn't get much of a proper reply.
"I'll be right there."
Call disconnected. The blond was rushing through his clothes.
Arthur Kirkland was certainly a fast mover, especially if something had happened. Something bloody.
Well? What do you guys think? If any of you is British, then I would love for you to explain court proceedings in Britain to me. All I have is Wikipedia, and we know that's not a really reliable source. Review please!
.:|Silver|:.