CHAPTER 2

A/N – Aaaaaaand we're back with a second chapter of this… creepy thing my twisted muses have come up with. It's a tad shorted than the first one, but only because the story ended up being split into three parts and I tried to make them somewhat equal in length. A big thank you to all of you for the reviews, favorites and follows, they really made my day! So enjoy and let me know what you think of my sinister little tale, because things are starting to heat up… or something ;)


A wave of terror washed over poor Alfred as he stood there trembling, staring at the odd boy with a thick English accent, fists clenched helplessly at his sides. "Wha- how do you know my name?" he mumbled in a shaky voice." And… you killed the others? What are you saying…?" He was scared like hell. As if the whole Ludwig thing hadn't been enough, now this. He was but a tiny boy, but his bright green gaze alone had the assistant backed to the wall.

The Englishman smiled lightly, briefly, peeling himself off the wall. "I had to… And I know everything about you. I sneaked into your mind," he chuckled.

Alfred swallowed hard, but remained silent, unable to think anymore. Sneaked into his mind? Was that even possible? No, all these people were mad, they were mad to the worst extent and they would only seek to drive him mad as well! How could Dr. Braginski send him down into this… this hell? Was this really the kind of exposure he needed to get over his own issues? Somehow he doubted it! Would someone even come down to save him? And where the hell had Yao Wang gone?

"I presume you took refuge in here… now that Ludwig escaped. But don't worry, if you are a very, very good boy you will be safe and sound," the green-eyed boy - whose name Alfred didn't even know - whispered again.

"And who are you?" he managed to ask at last.

"I am not someone… I am something," the Englishman explained calmly. "But he calls me the Fury".

Alfred choked. "H-he? Who is-"

"Forget about him now," the bizarre boy interrupted, looking suddenly impatient."I like you. A lot," he chuckled. "Do you like me, Alfred?"

"I… um…"

"Great!"

Before he even realized what was happening, the boy grabbed his arm with surprising force and the next thing he felt was the painful contact his back made with the mattress of the hospital bed. The damned thing was so thin that the assistant could feel the iron bars as if they had nothing on. He let out a groan and the boy smiled.

"Nasty bed, I know. Courtesy of Dr. Braginski. Would you prefer the floor?"

"N-no…"

"I knew it," the Englishman said climbing on top of him, emerald gaze piercing and peculiarly mesmerizing in the same time. He leaned and took the assistant's mouth into a bruising kiss, while he kept his wrists pinned down on the bed. He was impossibly strong. As the still horror-struck Alfred found himself unable to struggle or otherwise oppose, the boy eventually let go and nimble fingers quickly moved down to undo his jeans. Once unzipped, he pulled them down together with his boxers. He pulled away from the kiss for a second and looked down at the bespectacled blond, lying defenseless beneath him. Alfred's eyes grew larger as he felt the Englishman's hand fondling him. Both his mouth and his touch were hot like fire.

"I… don't think…" the assistant began, but the other shushed him, taking off his glasses. "You won't get any burns, I promise…" he whispered into his ear.

The blond Englishman kissed him again and his hand continued. When the other was ready, he straddled him, never breaking contact with his lips. Alfred felt like sinking into liquid fire and a mixture of various sensations overwhelmed him. Hands sneaked under his t-shirt exploring his skin as the boy moved. Lips moved down to his neck, lightly biting the delicate skin above his collarbone and a hot mouth stifled his moan as he eventually came.

"Shhh… we must not be heard," the patient whispered, running gentle fingers through his damp hair, as Alfred panted heavily with his eyes closed. He then took off his shoes, jeans and boxers, tossing them on the floor. His t-shirt followed. The other blond opened his eyes and looked at him, squinting a bit before pulling the boy's gown over his head and tossed it down to join his own clothes.

"Shouldn't we have done this before?" he asked smiling and the green-eyed Englishman knew that his fear was gone now.

"It's far from over… I'll just let you rest a little," he giggled, pulling the blanket over their bodies and allowing Alfred to pull him down into a gentle embrace. He seemed surprised at the gesture, but still let his head fall on the assistant's shoulder and let him hold him to his chest.

"I know what they told you… that there are monsters down here, but the big monster lives out there, in the upper chambers," the boy murmured softly as his index finger drew indefinite shapes on his shoulder. "You know of whom I speak…"

Through all the blurry and messy thoughts he was fighting to contain and tune out, Alfred could feel one particular suspicion surfacing and growing stronger by the minute. It wasn't so much that he trusted the boy (could someone clearly dangerous really be trusted? Probably not…) but the facts… And the facts were, no one was coming to get him out.

"I guess," he sighed. "But why is he keeping you here? What have you done?"

The Englishman sighed too, curling up closer and suddenly appearing very vulnerable. "It's not about what I have done, it's about what I am. That and the fact that he cannot control my powers…"

"Does he want that? To control… your powers?" The question slipped off the assistant's lips almost against his will. Did he really want to get to the bottom of this? And again, could he rely on what someone like that was telling him? Something told him this was something he really didn't want to delve into…

"Not only mine… But we refused to obey. That's why he ordered…" the boy whispered and shifted slightly. Right then Alfred noticed a whip scar which started on his left shoulder and ran down his smooth back. He couldn't refrain from passing a trembling finger along it, terror gripping him with renewed force. The boy had clearly been beaten, but had that happened here?

"So you only defended yourself…" he said softly, caressing the Englishman's tousled hair.

"I won't hide it from you," the boy replied, "When I lose my temper, all hell breaks loose. I tend to get very violent…"

Alfred couldn't help wincing slightly upon hearing such a confession. "Well… t-that's not very good news. I think you're never gonna get out of here if you don't learn to temper yourself."

The Englishman tilted his head and looked up at him, leafy-green orbs harboring a shadow of confusion."No one ever leaves this place," he replied after a few moments. "Neither will you, Alfred."

The taller blond managed a crooked smile. "So I won't be safe and sound after all…" he said, but clearly the assistant hadn't meant to sound so light humored. In fact, he was utterly terrified. Why was he being told that? Was it true? But then, why would Dr. Braginski want to harm him, or confine him here? Or perhaps the doctor had accepted him precisely because he'd figured that Alfred was a hopeless case and had found a manner to keep him here and… and what, prevent him from escaping? No, no, no! That… that wasn't possible!

"I'm not talking about me here."

"But I'm not a patient, I'm an assistant!"

"I said no one." the boy stressed firmly. "And you cannot do anything to save neither of us…"


Alfred woke up and blinked in the darkness, without having any idea where he was or why. However, the roughness of the hospital blanket against his bare skin quickly helped him recall the events of the previous night with incredible accuracy. He shifted slightly and saw the Englishman curled up against him, fast asleep. He stretched out a hand and searched for his watch and glasses in the pile of clothing lying on the floor, fighting back a shudder. So… that had just happened… The blond quickly put his glasses on and unsuccessfully squinted at the small quadrant.

"It's 5:30 A.M…." he suddenly heard the boy mumble sleepily behind him.

"What?" he turned startled. "How do you know?"

"Bloody hell… I just do," came the grumbled reply. "Please stop moving the blanket, it's so cold in here…"

Alfred's hand however continued its search and encountered a metal ring. It was the set of access keys to the underground cells. He picked them up, weighing the small bundle in his palm as he pondered. Or more like, he tried to. Oh, fuck this!

"Hey…" he said softly, brushing some stray bangs off the smaller blond's face. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Mmmm… what about?" the Englishman grumbled again, lifting his head off the pillow lazily.

"I want to give you this," Alfred said, holding up the set of keys.

"WHAT?" the boy quickly sat up, pulling the blanket to his chest defensively. "No, no, you can't do this, Alfred. This is awfully wrong… After all, you don't know shit about me, you have no idea who I am and what I am about. And I'm not as you think-"

If asked, Alfred couldn't have explained why he was doing this, if there was any logical reason for his action past a certain gut feeling that it was the right thing to do. "If you were a cold-blooded murderer you would have killed me by now and gotten the keys anyway, since I was stupid enough to come in here all alone and shit," he interrupted firmly.

"Well then, you don't need to get yourself into a deeper shit than the one you're in already. After all, why do you care?" the boy asked.

"Look, it might sound crazy, but I just know that you don't belong here!" The assistant could hardly say with all certainty that 'he knew that', but at this point he hardly cared, it was all way past his bearable limits of weirdness. He gently put the set of keys in the boy's hand and closed his fingers around it. "Please…"

He then quickly got off the bed and dressed in a hurry, while the Englishman kept staring at the keys in his hand with a confused frown.

"I gotta go now, the alarm lights have gone off. There is no danger anymore," Alfred said as he turned to him, but not meeting the other's gaze. "I'll need this for a moment…" He took the keys from the boy's hand and went to open the door, then threw them back on the bed.

Once out of the room, the assistant could not help letting out a relieved sigh. But then suddenly, as he walked down the hallway towards the elevator, he nearly ran into Yao as the Chinese came out of the brooms closet. He flinched violently upon seeing the other, stumbling a few steps back and instinctively avoiding the other's questioning glance.

"Hey kid! Thought you weren't among the living anymore, aru… I heard you scream and thought the big bastard got you," he said.

Alfred gulped – now that was some excuse for not even bothering to actually check if he was alive or dead. Although maybe it had been better that Yao had not come to check…"He did grab me, actually. But I managed to kick him in the stomach and he let go. I ran and hid into the supplies closet at the end of the hall. Fortunately, he didn't follow fast enough," he explained with a wry smile.

"Yeah, well…" Yao said with a suspicious look. "You were lucky, aru. Others before you weren't. Let's head back up, now. I've got to report to Dr. Braginski. Thank the Gods the guards got a hold on the big guy."

"What happened to him? To Ludwig I mean…" Alfred asked, once in the elevator which was now functional once more.

"No shit really, aru… They sedated him and locked him up, with a thousand bonds on him and all." the Chinese mumbled. Then Yao fell silent, staring at his feet.

Christ, he'd slept with a patient! Could things have gotten more insane than that? And what the fuck would happen if they found out? Alfred slapped his hand over his face.

"You ok, aru?" Yao asked as they reached the ground level and the elevator stopped.

"I think…" Alfred started, but the place began to spin around him, faster and faster, until everything suddenly went black.


The assistant woke up twelve hours later, in a separate room on the first level (or so he guessed by the setting and furniture). His head was absolutely pounding and shaky fingers felt a painful bump on the side of his head which had probably collided with the elevator wall, or floor, or…

"What happened to me?" he asked the old nurse standing next to his bed, a meek smile on her face as he busied herself with arranging some stuff on the nightstand.

"You had a hard time down there, sweetie. You must rest for a while." She handed him a couple of pills and a glass of water. Alfred stared at them confused. Pills? Surely the two miniscule, oddly colored spheres were not for a simple headache. This didn't look good, he thought he was past the pills phase…

"What is this?"

"Your prescription," she explained in a soft voice.

"But I don't need…" he replied pushing her hand away.

"Dr. Braginski's orders. Now be a good boy."

He took them and dropped back on the pillows, feeling drowsy.

To be continued