Chapter 1

Englands guest room had been silent for over an hour now, America showing no sign that the spirit had done anything to him yet.

"Perhaps nothing bad will happen," a sigh, "oh, who am I kidding that was a pure evil spirit, a dangerous one at that." England stretched out some on the bed, looking back down to America, "just please don't do anything to horrible, please."

About another half hour passed before England slid down the headboard, dosing off from the quiet stillness of the room. Right before he fell into blessed unconsciousness America started to stir.

At first England thought he had imagined the small shift America made, but when the larger nation let out a groan and shifted again England knew that he hadn't imagined it. "America? America are you alright, can you hear me?" England asked frantically, leaning down next to America, brushing some of the hair that had fallen back in his face away.

America only groaned again in response, making England bite his lip. He was somewhat conscious, or getting there, but he he sounded in pain almost.

Oh, the bloody things hurting him and I can't do a damn thing! England screamed in his mind, trying to think of anything that could help his poor America, coming up with nothing.

Taking a deep breathe to calm himself, England carefully shook America trying to wake him up so he could properly inspect him. It took a few minutes but soon sky blue eyes were gaining focus, looking up at the source of the insistent shaking.

"I-iggy?" America asked tiredly, confused by the panic and worried look on Englands face.

England let out a breath of relief upon hearing America mumble his name.

"Thank goodness your still alright" England said, more to himself than to America, but America still heard it. "What should that mean? I'm still alright" America, ever curious, asked.

England bit his lip, not sure how to explain this to America, or if he should explain it at all.

Finally after a moment of silence passed England spoke, "A-America, Alfred, do you r-remember what happened i-in my basement...e-earlier today?"

"Um...I think so... I came to see you, couldn't find you, went into the basement and..." America stopped talking, eyes widening recalling the events, including the spirit getting him. England said nothing, simply bit his lip and looked away guiltily as realization dawned on America's face.

Another moment of silence, America being the one to break it. "I-Iggy...w-what did that t-thing do to m-me?" America truly sounded scared and unsure, unconsciously curling in on himself a bit, he had always had a fear of paranormal things and what happened in the basement was finally starting to dawn on him.

Englands voice answered, barely above a whisper, "nothing yet, but i-its still inside you...I don't know what could happen America a-and until I find out what kind of s-spirit it is...I can't do anything to get rid of it."

More silence, America taking in all this information. He tried to crack a small smile as he talked "Well...maybe its nothing to b-bad. I mean, come on Iggy, it hasn't done anything to me yet, shouldn't it have by now?" America always trying to think optimistically. England let out a dry laugh, no humor behind it.

"America, I know my spirits, and I don't want to scare you but, although I don't know the exact type of spirit it was, I do know by the look of it that its strong, and evil, and will do something sooner or later...probably sooner too." England didn't want to say it, but it had to be said. Looking over at America, he was trying to think of something good about it, anything, but there was nothing good in this situation.

A period of silence took over. England thinking of something to do, or at least say to help America. America meanwhile was taking in all this information, putting things together, and coming to fully understand his predicament.

"H-hey England, what were you doing that let a spirit out?" England cursed inwardly at America's question.

"Nothing" he answered quietly, with a tone of voice that that was all America was going to get from now, and in his current condition America wasn't going to argue with him to tell. America let out a sigh in defeat.

"Are you hungry?" England asked after a moment, wanting to do something, anything for America. America nodded and England slowly got up to go and find some food that America tended to hide in his cup boards for when he came over.

England was gone about fifteen minutes, and when he came back up he was carrying a tray with a mug of coffee, a bowel of ice cream with chocolate sauce and a saucer of fruit.

The nice snack planned for America though quickly took residence on the floor, the tray clattering against the wood with a load thud, the ice cream spilling onto the floor, mixing with the coffee and soaking into the fruit that was now splayed about the floor. England took in a sharp breath, eyes widening at the site that greeted him.

Alfred laying on the bed, face scrunched up in pain, eyes open in pain and shock staring at nothing. His arms were wrapped around himself, his left slowly being coated with blood that was seeping from his right from his impossible grip, and vice verse. He was barely breathing and sweating profoundly. When he looked into Alfred's eyes he saw tinges of red swirling in them.

It took a full two seconds for Arthur to realize what was happening. The spirits trying to take control.

As fast as he could Arthur crawled on top of Alfred, trying to pin him down.

"Damn it! Look at me Alfred! Look at me and fight it! I know your scared but you have to bloody fight it!" Arthur screamed at Alfred, who although by the look in his eyes heard Arthur, couldn't listen to his orders. "Alfred come on! Your the bloody United States of America! Your strong enough to win this! Now fight back!" Arthur screamed, trying to get Alfred to stay with him. He pleaded over and over in his head that Alfred would stay with him, that this evil spirit wouldn't emerge and use Alfred's body for its own gain.

Arthur knew that in Alfreds current state though he wouldn't win. Alfred did fight he did, and he held out a bit longer than Arthur expected but his body his body was to drained, he didn't have the energy or strength to win this battle and within not even five minutes Arthur found himself on his back, eyes wide, mouth agape, staring up at what was suppose to be his Alfred.

It was still Alfreds body but the aura pouring off it was so violent, intense, and pure evil there was no way that it belong to Alfred. His sky blue eyes, that reflected the original look of his bright blue skies were now a murky, blood red. His expression was beyond the complete opposite of his usual million watt smile, now twisted in an evil playful smirk Arthur had never seen. It looked like Alfred, but it wasn't the sweet little boy that Arthur had raised and comed to deeply care for.

"Now what do I have here?" Even Alfreds voice was the same yet not. Arthur couldn't reply only stare up at Alfred, terrified at what he saw when Alfred spoke. Fangs.

"Well?" Alfred, the spirit, asked after a moment of no reply.

"N-no, it can't be, not th-this" Arthur stuttered, eyes locked on Alfreds mouth.

Alfred smirked, "can't be what?"

Arthur gulped, locking eyes with the red ones above him. "Vampire."

Omg, I am so sorry this short little thing took me so long, but school started back up and I have a dance recital this saturday, and I was in the musical, and finals, and family, and school, and a Train Show I just haven't had time. But I get out of school friday so updates shall be coming sooner I hope.

A nice congratulations to LunarEclipse896 for winning the preview of this chapter as well. I am in Pennsylvania. So since I plan to have another (longer) chapter out soon no contest this time around, and I promise the chapters will get longer, this was just a perfect spot to leave off in my mind. Now, please review after this long wait and enjoy.

I have a vampire fetish if you haven't guessed yet, I'mma have fun with this story.