Arthur knew. He felt his presence in the room... Alfred was his friend. The blond boy was actually one of his best friends actually. But the boy... The innocent, hyperactive and entirely good boy had an extremely unimaginable dark persona to him.
"Artie!" said boy shouted. "A-Ah! What is it git?" He questioned irritatedly. "You've been jumpy all day! What's up!?" Alfred leaned closer to his tense friend. "N-Nothing's up you idiot!" Arthur was avoiding eye contact. "Then look me in the eye and say it, dude!"
The Englishman turned his head slowly to meet the American's eyes and was seen visibly relieved to see a very happy Alfred.
"What? Is something wrong with looking at me? Am I too ugly and fat!?" The blue-eyed boy started checking himself frantically. "Nothing's wrong..." Arthur sighed exasperatedly. "Look, can we just focus on the work?" He turned his head away from the annoying American. "Sure, sure..." And with that, the pair became absorbed in lessening the piles of paperwork on their shared desk.
Arthur shivered only slightly which went unnoticed by his friend. He could feel the presence of Alfred's other unstable little persona waft around the happy-go-lucky boy. It only took over Alfred when he went extremely emotional about something... And extreme was probably a light way to put it.
No one else knew of the American's other personality. Not even his own half-brother who was Canadian (and was very proud of that fact. Hence the "I'm not American!" shout that comes after every "I'm his brother," explanation.). The thick-browed blond had had an unfortunate encounter with it after the other had 'lost it' over a hamburger. That's right. A hamburger of all things. It was a complete mystery as to how it wasn't previously discovered as it was apparently that easy to set the American off.
Now if onl-"Artie? Yo Artie! DJArt? You there!?" The boy invading his thoughts was waving a hand uncomfortably close to his face. "I'm here, I'm here..." He grumbled. "Good because you've been out of it for a while now, man! I mean, you've been staring at those pile of papers for a while now... Are you sure you're okay?" He put his hand on his friend's forehead. "Argh, I'm bloody fine you half-baked ham!" He gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth. "I-I didn't mean it, Alfred," he explained, panicking. "I-It's ok man... I mean, you know that hamburgers are pretty special to me, right!? There's no way you'd mean that... It's no biggie..." It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself to believe what he had just said. "Shit... Shitshitshitshitshit..." Arthur cursed at himself.
"L-Look I'm going to go now..." He needed to escape. Fast. "Why?" The American's voice cracked slightly. "Th-There's no use crying over spilt milk, right?" With that said, the American brightened up instantly. "Y-Yeah! I'm perfectly fine!" He laughed to himself. On the other hand, the Englishman watched as the evil thing seeped out of the laughing boy's head.
Suddenly, a hand grasped the front of his collar and Arthur watched in horror as the evil air immediately seeped back into Alfred's skull. A pair of red eyes glared at him, hatred swimming in their blood-like depths. "Artie~" He started. His hair took on a brown hue and out of the corner of his eye, he could see his prized baseball bat suddenly grow spikes. "Alfred, dammit it's just food!" He yelled desperately. "You're right but I just needed an excuse to come out, really," The taller man grinned, his canine visibly sharper than before. "L-Let go, Alfred!" Arthur was panicking. "Nuh-uh-uh, my little friend..." He grinned sadistically. "You're going to be my little pet..."
Arthur whimpered. Alfred grabbed his baseball bat and swung it on one of his shoulders. He dragged his pet out of their house and onto the streets. Blood... He thirsted for blood to be spilled... But only the blood of those who dared to piss him off. Arthur, his little pet of course, was the one he wanted to make witness all of the wonderful deaths... Mainly because it excited him to see Arthur covered in another person's blood, with a horrified expression on his face as he sat, staring at the mutilated corpse of a mere civilian... Oh yes, that was a very exciting scene.
The thick-browed blond saw the taller blond's eyes light up and he cringed. "P-Please no Alfred... Don't... Please..." Arthur begged. Said man's head snapped in his direction and he glared fiercely at his pet. "You're smart... I like that... But you can't control me my dear Artie," Alfred smirked in delight. He brushed his nose against Arthur's forehead and laid a light kiss on it. "This is all for you, sweetheart..." And another thing.
Apparently Alfred's other persona had a deep, dark fascination with Arthur. Though you could call it an obsession since the male had nearly killed Francis (Whom had no memory of the incident, being beaten with a spiked bat almost to the verge of death and all...). The news of Arthur being in a relationship with the frog-prince did not please the American anyway. That is, the nice half. But why would he care? He was in a relationship with Russia and even though the Englishman was against it, what did he do? That's right! Nothing. But when he gets a boyfriend!? Oh, his boyfriend gets beaten to a near death state. (Perhaps his memories of America getting angry over a hamburger was wrong... Well, they were probably discussing about Arthur's new boyfriend over a hamburger...)
By the end of his train of thought, Alfred had apparently found an unfortunate civilian. He dropped Arthur and glared at him as if to say 'Try and escape and I won't be afraid to become a Necrophiliac' which definitely scared the Brit in his spot.
"Yo, mate!" Alfred called out to a man clad in a thick dark grey winter coat matched with an equally dark scarf and hat. He walked over to the man and the pair began to chat. Arthur, in the meantime, was arguing with himself about calling out to the man to run away or help save him from his friend. But by the time his internal conflict was over, the American's red eyes locked with his and he gestured to follow him into an unusually thick forest.
The man's knocked out - at least Arthur thought he was knocked out... Though the streaming blood from his hat begged to differ...- form was being roughly dragged by the happily-skipping American. Each crack of a bone that emitted from the body only made Alfred giggle excitedly as they neared a clearing in the forest.
"Now then..." Alfred paused to giggle excitedly. "Let the fun begin!" He shouted. He pointed at Arthur and gestured for him to sit down, the other had no choice but to obey.
Alfred wasted no time in stabbing the man with his bat through the chest. He used his bat as a rolling pin and rolled it over the victim's body. But then, he got bored and slammed his bat furiously into the victim's ribcage. Blood oozed from the jacket so Alfred promptly slit it open with a knife he had grabbed from his pocket. The source of the blood became clearly visible and Arthur nearly fainted as Alfred caused spurts of blood with his constant whacking if the spiked bat. Then, he grinned nicely. Too nicely for a situation like that. He threw the knife high in the air and sang as it came down. "Oh, there it goes... Where will it stop? Nobody knows!" He sang. A sickening 'SCHLK!' sounded.
The knife landed almost too perfectly in the middle of the man's forehead. "Whoopsie daisy~" Alfred grabbed the knife from the man's forehead and Arthur was pretty much ready to faint by then. "Oh no you don't! The fun hasn't truly started yet..." Alfred growled. Specs of blood were strewn across Arthur's white collared shirt.
The American dipped a finger into the man's wounds and smeared the blood across Arthur's pale face. "The fun's just starting, love," Arthur sobbed. A tear trickled down his sweat-slicked cheek.
I do not own Alfred F. Jones or Arthur Kirkland.