Warning(s): Lots and lots of blood and gore and very disturbing imagery. If you do not like it, DO NOT READ!
This is basically a whole 2P!USUK one-shot, so, yes, yaoi. No to smut (I don't do lemons :P)
And there's a lot of swearing. Come on, people. This is 2P!Alfie we're talking about here.
(note: Those who have done a dissection at least once in their lives will have absolutely no trouble visualizing this.)
Enjoy! And do not complain! You proceed at your own risk~!
Blood and Bones
He giggled uncontrollably. The mess of organs and skin and bone that once were parts of a human were scattered across the kitchen counter. He grinned and licked up the blood on the knife. Tearing apart mortals for his… ingredient was getting boring. It was so cliché.
He needed something tastier; something more satisfying.
He needed the blood of a nation.
And he knew just which nation he could use.
"I'm glad you could come over today, Alfie~!"
"Shut the fuck up, freak. Why'd you ask me to come, anyways?"
"I was just bored, I guess. Why don't you have a cup of tea with me?"
The man's sing-song voice was punctuated with a light British accent. His blue-and-pink eyes glittered with excitement as he let his guest into his home. A tall, dark-skinned man entered warily. One hand was stuffed in his jeans pocket; the other held the handle of a baseball bat, with nails embedded at the end and dried blood flaking at the surface. He glared at the Brit through his dark red shades, crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Is that all?"
"Perhaps."
Alfred stared at his host. Every time he was with the man, things ended badly for him. He shook his head and stepped into the dark house. Maybe something interesting would happen for once. He had to admit he was bored.
The front door closed with a slow and eerie creeeeeak and a click, leaving both men in total darkness.
"What the hell, Arthur," the American growled. "You could at least turn some fucking lights on first."
He took a step forward, but arms snaking around his neck pulled him back, and warm breath tickling his ear forced him to stop.
"We're not going to be needing lights for what I plan on doing to you," Arthur hissed into Alfred's ear.
"What are you—"
Alfred's words trailed off and he shuddered as the shorter man drew his tongue along his neck, saliva dripping down his chin as he tasted the American's skin.
"Yes…" he purred. "You'll make my treats taste absolutely delicious!"
"Get off!"
Alfred jerked away violently and swung his bat at Arthur as he turned to face him. A sickening crack rang out from the impact and the Brit flew into a wall. He slid off like a broken doll and staggered to his feet, shoulders shaking as he giggled maniacally. Broken ribs cracked sharply as he straightened his body.
"Aw, is Alfie scared~?" Arthur laughed and he flew at the taller man, eyes glittering with madness in the darkness.
One would have to be crazy to attack an armed man who was taller and stronger than them, and said person was Arthur.
Alfred swung the bat, but missed. The nimble Brit dodged the blind swing and swiped Texas off Alfred's face. He swiftly melted into the shadows as Alfred snarled angrily, red eyes scanning the darkness and head swinging around as he searched wildly for the Brit.
"Give me back Texas!" he roared, voice reverberating with fury.
"Can you catch me?" Arthur called out playfully. Alfred shook his head in frustration. It sounded as if his voice were coming from all directions at once.
Disoriented, the American felt along the wall and managed to hit a light switch. A weak light came on, but it was enough to reveal the crazed little man perched on the counter opposite the kitchen threshold where Alfred was standing, his legs swinging in time to a tune he was humming softly. One hand was hidden behind his back. The other hand held the shades, waving them tauntingly at Alfred.
"Oh, you found me!" the Brit said in delight.
Alfred growled in satisfaction and charged at Arthur, but the Brit brought his hand out from behind his back and flashed the weapon at Alfred. The American froze, with the blade of the kitchen knife mere inches from his face.
"Tsk, tsk. Don't get too excited," Arthur purred. "I'm not going to make this easy for you. Where would all the fun be?"
He leaped off the counter and advanced, relishing the fear in the taller man's eyes as he backed away, the point of the blade pressing dangerously into the skin at his throat. Blood beaded at the wound, and the sight made Arthur's heart pound in excitement. He shoved his victim against the kitchen wall, the blade sinking into his flesh.
Alfred's hand twitched.
"I'm not gonna make it easy, either."
He smirked and lifted the bat, but Arthur was faster. He pulled out a switchblade from his pocket with his free hand and slit Alfred's wrist. He let out a cry of shock and dropped his weapon with a loud thud. Arthur sheathed the blade and grabbed the bleeding wrist. He leaned closer to Alfred, so close that their noses touched.
"I liked that," he breathed softly. "Scream for me again, Alfred."
The American hissed his defiance and hooked his leg around Arthur's. The Brit's leg gave and he collapsed.
"Never," the tall man snarled, reaching for his bat, eyes never once leaving Arthur's.
The small man laughed from his position on the ground.
"This isn't right." He hooked both blades around Alfred's ankles and the American tumbled to the ground beside him. Arthur climbed on top of the taller man and smirked down at him. "That's better."
He took a knife off the kitchen table and stretched out one of Alfred's arms. The Brit stabbed through Alfred's palm and buried the blade deep into the kitchen tile underneath. Alfred bit back a scream, and it came out as a strangled growl. He did the same with Alfred's other hand and the kitchen knife, this time rewarded with a shriek of pain Alfred couldn't hold back.
"If you scream some more, maybe I'll let you go~!" Arthur laughed madly.
The Brit licked up the blood that was pooling from the fresh wounds on his victim's wrist and hands. He dug his tongue into the gaping slit on his wrist, eager to suck up every single drop of blood that was leaking from the torn veins.
"What the fuck do you want with me you sick bastard?" Alfred hissed out through gritted teeth.
"I want to open you up," the Brit responded honestly, straightening up and gazing down at his victim. Drool and blood were dripping from his mouth as he spoke and soaked into his pastel-coloured clothes. "I want to use your skin for crisps; your blood for tea; your intestines for ropes; your stomach as a bag; mash up your brain for frosting; your liver as an appetizer; and your heart as the main course!"
Alfred's red eyes flashed with horror for a brief moment, only to be replaced by genuine curiosity.
"Will it hurt?" his voice rippled with excitement, and he didn't bother supressing it. He wanted the see what the Brit could do.
"Do not worry, luv," Arthur sang softly, leaning forward to mash his lips against Alfred's in a kiss, forcing the taller man to taste his own blood. Alfred reluctantly allowed his captor to have his way, shivering at the metallic taste that invaded his mouth.
Arthur smirked against his victim's lips.
"I'll make it hurt as much as possible."
There was a dull thud and Alfred's vision went black.
Alfred blinked open his red eyes. He found himself squinting at Arthur's cheerful smile and insane blue-and-pink eyes. The Brit was leaning over him, his silhouette contrasting against the stark white backdrop far above him. He held an empty syringe in his hand, which smelled strongly of drugs.
"'Ello, chap," greeted the Brit smartly as he pulled away. "It's nice of you to join in. I was just about to get started without you."
"Get started….?" The American slurred lazily, shivering in the cold. "Started on what…?"
Alfred glanced at himself and noticed with a chill he wasn't wearing anything but his underwear. He frantically struggled to get up, but to his horror, his limbs weren't obeying his brain's orders. He glanced wildly around. Apparently, he was only able to move his eyes and mouth. His entire body otherwise was paralyzed.
"What did you do to me?" he hissed in outrage.
"Oh. It's a new drug I invented," his captor murmured, humming as he moved around the room. "It paralyzes the body, causing commands from the brain to the body to stop. But it doesn't numb the pain receptors that move sensations from your body to your brain. In fact, it increases the sensitivity of your senses and also the amount of pain you can handle before you pass out."
"Meaning this is gonna be hell for me," Alfred stated simply, his brain hurting with the new information.
"Mm-hmm~!" Arthur confirmed with a nod.
He rolled up his sleeves and picked up a marker, then started drawing lines along Alfred's naked body, humming as he worked.
Oh God, Alfred thought to himself in panic. I can feel it! I can feel every mark and I can't do anything about it. Holy fucking shit!
Arthur popped the cap back on the marker and replaced it with a scalpel. He grinned and waved the tool in Alfred's face.
"Let the dissection begin~!"
The Brit violently tore into marks he made along Alfred's arms and legs. He laughed as the veins popped and splattered blood everywhere and the fat and flesh exploded outwards, exposing the bone deep inside.
Alfred let out a blood-curdling screech of pain and shock. He felt the blood drip from his wounds and heard it splash onto the floor. His lips twitched as he held back a bloodthirsty smirk. He didn't want the Brit to know he was secretly enjoying it.
"That was only the start of it," Arthur giggled. "I just hope you don't pass out on me, luv."
He traced the blade along his victim's tanned skin and toned muscles, leaving a trail of fresh blood down his abdomen. Alfred shivered at the feeling of the cold weapon on his body and let out a throaty growl.
"Is there something wrong, luv?" Arthur sneered.
"Stop…" Alfred mumbled.
"What?" Arthur strained to hear what he wanted to hear.
"Your teasing…"
"What about it?"
What the Brit got in reply was something he did not expect.
"Stop your fucking teasing and rip me open already!" Alfred roared impatiently.
Arthur reeled back in shock, and then quickly regained his composure, giggling softly.
"A masochist?" he teased his victim with the blade, ghosting it over his skin.
"Shut up," breathed Alfred, heart accelerating with the need to hurt, "and do it."
Arthur giggled madly.
"Alright."
He plunged the blade deep into his victim's chest, right between the ribs, and sliced downwards, blood splashing up into his face. He licked up the blood and his eyes glittered hungrily. Alfred's screams of pain were music to his ears.
"Yes!" snarled Alfred, lips curled into a twisted grin. "Make me bleed, Arthur."
The Brit cut out the skin so it could be folded back to reveal the wet, bloody organs still alive inside the subject's body. He stabbed the flaps of skin and fat to the sides of the operating table and stepped back, admiring his handiwork.
And, as expected from any personified nation, Alfred was still very much alive, face twisted with pain and pleasure. Arthur observed how his experiment's diaphragm moved in and out and his heart pumped powerfully as he panted with exhaustion. Arthur inhaled the sickly-sweet metallic stench of death, bile, and blood deeply, licking his lips with relish.
He could just taste that meal…
Unable to hold back any longer, the small man plunged his hands into the pulsing mass of internal organs, moaning as he slipped his arms into Alfred's body slowly as far as he could, squeezing the slimy flesh. He could feel Alfred's entire body shivering in pain and ecstasy. Arthur smirked. He was truly inside Alfred, now.
"Oh God, Arthur, please…" Alfred gasped, moaned, and screamed a string of pleads and curses. "Fuck. You're so fucking sick, you disgusting bastard! Get your fucking filthy hands out of me…!"
Arthur smirked at his experiment, rubbing his bloody cheek against Alfred's chest. Alfred was always very vocal in such… activities… He stood up and sifted through the heaving mass of flesh and blood, wondering what to pick up first.
"Look what I have here, Alfie!" Arthur sang, pulling out the taller man's stomach. "It's so heavy; how much have you eaten today?" He laughed hysterically.
"So annoying," growled Alfred. He felt bile and acid bubbling up his esophagus. He forced himself not to throw up at the sight of his own organs.
"Oh well," Arthur grinned, his hands coated in blood. "I guess I could always find out later~!"
He cut the organ from Alfred's digestive tract and tossed it aside; blood, acid, and half-digested meals splattered all over the floor. White-hot pain shot through Alfred's body and he was vaguely aware of the sour smell that mixed in with the stench of blood. If he still had stomach contents, he was sure he would have thrown up.
Arthur was pulling out his intestines next, letting them form a huge pile on the floor. Alfred felt them being pulled out of his body, and he screamed until his throat bled raw. Arthur was laughing all the while.
"Yes, yes my love!" he shouted. "Scream for me!"
Alfred coughed, already feeling faint due to pain and blood loss. He knew he couldn't last much longer. He also knew, through bitter experience, that the moment Arthur touched his heart…
He snorted. After all the stabbing, internal bleeding, and bone-breaking Arthur had caused to kill him in the past, dissection was probably the worst and most creative idea he had come up with so far. Alfred secretly admired the man's ingenuity and insanity to have kept such a brutal practice up for so long. He loved and hated the Brit because of it.
"Your liver with a side of sweets and your kidneys with chips…" Arthur was going over each organ as he pulled it out, listing what he was planning to do with them.
Alfred had turned off his ears a long time ago, content to just feel the sharp agony that came whenever an organ was pulled out or when a bone was broken. He had lost his voice over time, and could only manage strangled gasps. His breathing was ragged (as long as his lungs and heart were still intact, he realized he could still live) and he could feel his mind slipping away.
Arthur noticed the change in his subject's demeanor; Alfred was no longer screaming or cursing and his body would no longer spasm with pain. His little game was getting boring.
It was time to end it.
"You know, Alfie," Arthur murmured, his voice sweeter than sugar, while at the same time as sour as acid, "the thing I like about nations is that they last longer than mortals. And they can also be reborn, so no matter how many times I kill you…"
He leaned over his experiment's body and licked the side of Alfred's sweaty, blood-splattered face, making the slurp very audible.
"…you will always come back to me, my love."
Alfred's half-lidded red eyes looked deep into Arthur's pink-and-blue ones, and knew instantly that it was true. No matter how many times he ran, or how many times he was killed…
There was no escaping Arthur Kirkland.
The Brit climbed onto the operation table, straddling Alfred's hips as he reached into the gaping wound and closed his fingers over the weakly beating heart.
"I love you, Alfred…" he breathed.
Arthur smashed his bloody lips against Alfred's, his tongue slipping in without resistance. Alfred kissed back with what little strength he had left as he felt the small man's nails dig into his heart. Arthur squeezed the life out of the vital organ one final time.
Lips still locked in their kiss of death, Alfred's red eyes flickered once and he died.
REVIEW if you guys want a sequel~! Or is this so revolting you just want me to take it down…? ^^;
...because I've been getting prompts to write a 2P!Arthur and 1P!America fanfic as a sequel to this.
Pfft.. But you guys probably don't want it... (a bit of reverse psychology happening here *hint hint*)
XD
Hetalia belongs to Himaruya-sama
2P!Hetalia designs are from that awesome person on Tumblr ((this certain author does not have tumblr or facebook *hears gasps* XD))
Thank you for stomaching all that violence~! Lol I love you guys! :D
REVIEW!