AN: Ok, now we're getting into the real story :D Thanks so much; A-Fangirl-Named-Kizori, chaoshead13, TheNinjaWangsta, Sora Moto, PhantomMemories, Herro Kitty, Phamenia and 518ZombiedDreams for reviewing! I really, really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy!


Chapter 1:

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh! Dude! Did you see that? He just killed her friend! Dude, that's not cool!"

"Yes, quite, Alfred," Arthur said as he patted the hand gripping his arm in a death-like grip, an obvious wince of discomfort on his face. Honestly, that boy had no idea how strong he was.

He really should be back at his beloved home, going through his paperwork for the upcoming meeting tomorrow, but Alfred insisted (insisted meaning he all but flung him kicking and screaming over his shoulder) that he spend the evening watching horror movies with him back at his hotel room.

Why he always had to bring an array of cheesy, gory, American horror movies with him as he visited England, Arthur didn't really want to know. If he asked he would most likely get an insult to his English movie culture and it would only start an all out war between them. He was not in the mood for a movie marathon between the two very different standards of quality entertainment.

Even though he was certain that his beloved British movies would win hands down.

And while it was always so amusing listening to the ever Heroic Alfred scream like a little girl at the scary horror movies he insisted on watching while huddling behind a cushion –and sometimes Arthur himself-, it can become a bit mundane, if not painful to his arm and ears, after some time.

So what was the first movie he insisted that Arthur watch with him? That 1992 movie called "Candyman".

During the course of the evening, Arthur felt himself become quite annoyed with the premises of this movie. It was about a young woman, who happened to a student, who decided to write a thesis about local legends and myths. She goes to visit a part of the town, where she learned about the legend of the Candyman, a one-armed man who would appear when you say his name five times, in front of a mirror.

It sounded all too similar to the legend of Bloody Mary, the spirit of an unfortunate woman who had met her fate in a brutal and devastating way, and who was cursed to forever feel sorrow and pain. When summoned by candlelight in front of a mirror in a darkened room, she would inflect her pain and suffering upon her summoner. In what method she would use to inflect this pain? Well, that all depended on the one who summoned her and the method used to do so.

But at the end of the day, all of her victims ended up dead or mysteriously missing and never seen from again.

While he doesn't mind a good story about myths and legends, he hated these particular kinds of movies that gave the young, the impressionable and the rather stupid the terrible notion that trying to perform the dangerous art of summoning the dead and not-quite-dead was a fun way to pass the time. Standing in front of a mirror with all your giggling friends egging you on was, Arthur believed, not a sign of courage, but of contempt. It was like treating these poor unfortunate souls nothing more than a freakish circus act.

Summoning demonic or dangerous entities was deadly business. He should know.

These legends and myths should not be taken so lightly. Nor should they be ridiculed and made a mockery of. After all, all myths and legends were born from fact.

"Wasn't that wicked, Artie?" Alfred said boldly as the ending credits thankfully, mercifully rolled down the television screen. "Wouldn't it be awesome to summon something like that?"

Arthur furrowed his brow, a deep frown flittering across his features as he snapped his attention to the American beside him. Oh sure, he would make fun of his mysterious and magical abilities, but thought that, that utter rubbish he had just slogged through was awesome? Had that boy no respect for him or the spiritual at all?

"Only if you know what you're doing, Alfred," Arthur scolded. "But a sign of disrespect and that-" he indicated to the television screen with a jab of his thumb. "-is what happens."

But Alfred just laughed that loud, annoying laugh of his. "Candyman isn't real, Artie. Hello? It's just a movie!"

"But the legend this movie is based on is real," Arthur found himself muttering under his breath quite dryly.

And, quite surprisingly, Alfred heard him as he nodded his head in understanding. "Yeah, Hell Mary, or something, right?"

It wasn't all that surprising to Arthur that Alfred had heard a variation of the Bloody Mary legend as she was known by quite a few different names. It was quite a common ghost story and was usually seen as a neat party or sleepover trick.

"I believe its Bloody Mary," Arthur pointed out.

"That too," Alfred said dismissively as the final credits finally came to an end. "How do you summon her, anyway?"

Arthur felt his stomach tightened at the question. "Why do you wish to know?"

"I dunno," Alfred said with a shrug. "Maybe I could use this trick to scare the life out of Mattie? Maybe Kiku? Oh, wouldn't be awesome if I could scare Russia with it? Then again, he'd probably break the mirror if he looked into it, huh? Commie bastard..."

"No," Arthur said suddenly and firmly.

"Huh?"

"I'm not going to tell you," Arthur snapped, his facial features creased into a look of sheer annoyance. "She is a tortured and tormented soul who doesn't deserve to be made a mockery off. Let her rest in peace; one mustn't keep reminding her of her painful passing."

Alfred only rolled his eyes in contempt. "Jeez, Iggy-"

Arthur immediately bristled at that awful nickname. "Don't call me that!"

"Don't get all serious on me," Alfred continued undeterred, even going as far as slumping down in his seat and pouting. "I mean, it's just a ghostly legend, it's not like ghosts are real. And they most definitely don't come crawling out of mirrors. TVs, on the other hand..."

Arthur simply gave him a blank look. "...You've been watching those Japanese ghost movies with Kiku again, haven't you?"

"But they're so cool~!"

Arthur sighed and abruptly took to his feet. He wasn't going to sit here a moment longer listening to Alfred disrespect the dead. "I'm going home now."

Suddenly, Alfred latched onto his waist by wrapping his arms around him, his cheek pressed against the small of his back. "Nooo!"

Arthur gave a few indignant and rather un-gentlemanly splutters as he struggled to stay upon his feet, his face a bright red from a blush. "I-I thought you didn't believe in ghosts?"

"I didn't say anything about ghosts..."

Still blushing, Arthur managed to give a disbelieving snort as his hands grasped at Alfred's, tugging at them in an attempt to remove his hold on him. "Then I'll just-"

"Wait!" Alfred squirmed as he tightened his grip, almost making Arthur lose his balance and topple onto him. "I just...want to make sure. You always scare the ghosts away, Iggy~!"

An expression of embarrassed anger flittered across Arthur's features and he managed to turn enough in Alfred's hold to place his hand onto of Alfred's soft blond hair in an attempt to push him away. "How many times do I have to-?"

But Alfred refused to let go and did the one thing Arthur could never say no to. He asked him in that soft, childlike voice he used to use against him when he was younger. "Please, England?"

Arthur instantly melted and tried to frown around his still prominent blush, trying to give the indication that he wasn't at all pleased with this change in events while secretly, he liked to think that Alfred felt safe with him.

Even if he was just protecting him from his own overly-active imagination.

"Oh fine, I'll stay the night," he surrendered, allowing the younger blond to pull him back down onto the couch and crossed his arms in an indignant manner. "Git."

"Alright!" Alfred cheered before he leapt to his feet and over to the small DVD collection he had with him. "Let's watch another scary movie. How about Steven King's It? It's about a murderous clown and..."

Arthur sighed. It was going to be a long night...


A bit of a slow start, but I wanted to point out how protective Arthur seems to be regarding the myth of Bloody Mary while Alfred is all but scoffing at its legend. He's not purposely being disrespectful, he just doesn't believe in the supernatural, ya know? He might not believe, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want Iggy to keep the ghosts away :3