Author's Notes: So we're back to America again. I thought this was going to be a short mix until I came up with the last part on a whim. There isn't much, but a major development to the story. I'm worried for both Alfred and Baby Florence. I don't know if the 2P counterparts will be a seal or not. I will have to see as the season goes along. I think we're going to check in on Japan next week. Enjoy this week's match.
Nine: Cassia:
He's been here before. The cigarette smoke was a reminder of where he was. Alfred slowly opened his eyes. There was that room again. No windows. A giant fireplace on the other side. There isn't much furniture around. Only a chair and a large plush couch. No photographs on the walls. Alfred slowly backed up to the door.
I shouldn't be here.
The American man felt around for the door. He whipped his head around. There was no door anymore.
"Huh?" he asked. Where did it go?
"Calm down," a voice said. Alfred quickly looked up. There he was again. The jaded man with his face. He held a spiked bat by his side.
"Yo!" he said. Alfred started to back away.
"Who are you? What do you want from me?" he asked. The man stuck up his finger and waved it back and forth.
"Tsk-tsk," he said. "Why do you have to be scared of me?" Alfred blinked. He opened his mouth to speak.
"Don't worry, your baby is fine," he said. "She looks so cute." The color drained from Alfred's face.
"You were in her room?!" he asked.
"Relax, man," the other America said. "I just wanted to see your baby." Alfred stood, frowning.
"Why are you here?" he asked. The other America pouted at him.
"Aw, Alfred, buddy," he said. "You don't know?" Alfred slowly shook his head. His double sighed.
"Oh boy…" he said.
"What?" Alfred asked. The other America shook his head.
"Am I going to have to spell it out for you?" he asked. The first American man stood with a blank stare. His double threw up his hands.
"Fine," he said. "I'll spell it out for you." The man leaned back in the couch.
"I want to live in your world," he said. Alfred blinked for a moment.
"What?" he asked. The other man paused.
"Oh yeah, I haven't introduced myself," he said. He rose to his feet.
"My name is Allen," the man said. "And you are?" Alfred stood near the door, tongue-tied. Allen raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"A-A-Alfred," the American man finally said. Allen smiled.
"Well, nice to meet you, Alfred," he said. The other America's eyes shifted back and forth.
"What do you mean?" Alfred asked.
"What do you mean what do I mean?" Allen asked. "I just want to live in your world."
"But… why?"
"Why? Why?" Allen gave him a goofy smile. "Because it's so much fun!" He gave off goofy jazz hands.
"I am just going to live in your world," he said. Alfred looked confused.
"But why?" he asked. Allen frowned and pouted.
"Don't you get it?" he asked. "I want to live like you." The color drained from the other American man's face.
"But what about me?" he asked. Allen perked up.
"Oh, you'll still be around," he said. "Just less and less." Alfred went pale as he shook his head.
"No…" he said. "No. No. No. No. No. No!" Alfred frantically backed up feeling around for a door. Allen gave him sickly smile.
"It can't be helped," he said. "It's going to happen. There's nothing you can do about it." The American man shook his head.
"No! I won't let this happen! No! No! No!" he cried. His hand found a doorknob at last. With one turn, he disappeared out of the room.
Since then, Alfred had been on edge. He struggled to keep it together.
"What's wrong?" someone asked. The American man looked up.
"Huh?" he asked. Lydia stared at him with a concerned look on her face. He blinked for a moment.
"Oh," he said. She gave him an odd look.
"You sure you're okay?" she asked. The American man shook his head.
"No," Alfred said. He turned and walked back to his room.
"Alfred?" she asked.
"I am just going to bed," he said. Alfred waved her off as he disappeared down the hall. Lydia sat at the kitchen table, looking confused.
"But you just got up…" she said. The young woman turned to Baby Florence in her high chair. The baby just softly cooed.
Meanwhile, an old antique shop in downtown Washington DC had just opened for the door. The shopkeeper's daughter had just finished cleaning up for the morning. She went to the back to do one more check around the more fragile goods. Right away, something caught her eye. In the center of the room was an ornated tall black mirror. The craved designs of the frame had strange and beautiful air around them. She could've sworn she heard whispering from the glass. The twenty-something woman started to slowly walk towards the mirror.
Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. She quickly shook her head. There was that mirror again. She could still hear the whispers from the mirror. Bad feelings came from this mirror. The young woman frowned.
"I don't know where you came from, but you're not staying here," she said. The young woman walked over and picked up the mirror by the frame. But the metal felt so cold that it burned her hands. The young woman screamed and dropped the mirror back down. Hazy screams came from the glass. She jerked her head up. A hand popped out of the black, glossy glass. The young woman backed as she let out a choked-up scream. The big, rough hand waved around as if it was stuck. And then another hand came through the glass. Then came the head with the rest of the body. The man groaned as he came out of the cursed mirror. The young woman wanted to run away, but her feet stayed frozen to the ground.
The man stood in front of the mirror and frowned for a moment.
"Hm…" he said. He looked like he was looking for something. The young woman tried to figure out what to do. She blinked many times. There was a muscular man with short brown hair standing in the back of her store. His leather jacket covered his white wife-beater shirt. The jeans and the army dog tags added to his bad boy look. Every inch of the young woman's being yelled at her to run. Her hand inched towards her right pocket. She just needed to dial 911.
Suddenly, this man froze.
"Ah," the man said. He reached into the mirror and pulled out his bat covered in nails. The young woman turned and ran towards the door. The man looked up and noticed her. He smirked and ran after her. He grabbed her by the neck. The young woman gagged as she was picked up off the ground. She didn't even get to look behind her. He pulled her towards him. The man only had one thing to say to her.
"Thanks for letting me, Baby Cakes," he said in a low growl. The young woman dropped straight to the ground. He walked past her and walked out of the shop. She sat on the floor panting for five minutes before she reached for her phone and called the police.