There was a mark across the carpet from where Alfred continuously paced throughout the night; fabric strands were curled from where his feet trended on them. Arthur would not be happy but Alfred, quite frankly, didn't give a shit just then. His temperament was close to breaking point and the growling from his stomach did not help.
He tried hard to keep on England's good side but who cared now? Time was ticking on and he was struggling to be patient. A missing neighbour or two wouldn't be of any concern.
"William Malcolm Miller. Aged 47. Repeated drug offender. Arson." He tapped a finger against his chin, recalling the local area sinners. "Wendy Anne Johnson. Aged 35. Murdered her former husband." Their souls often tasted differently depending on the poison. Alfred didn't have a preference. Souls were souls and those who were picky missed out on some good ones.
He stepped in the middle of the room and gazed over towards the mirror. His demonic features were clearly displayed in his reflection; his curled horns and sharp fanged teeth. He opened his mouth wide and caressed his tongue over his teeth. Yes, perhaps one little snack would lighten his mood. A devil was never in good spirits when hungry – no pun intended.
The bright blue glowing eyes travelled to the side of the mirror. A lamp had moved. It was barely an inch but he noticed it. There was something else here, watching him. His lips twisted into a dark smile. It always did delight him when food came to him.
He turned around, his smile now pleasant. Yes, he could smell it. Something was close by. Alfred went towards the sofa. "A willing meal? You won't make more than a mouthful but I'll accept!"
Rushed footsteps moved across the floor but he didn't catch sight of what it was. Annoyed, but keeping it masked with pleasantness, Alfred peered around. They were inching close to the corner of the room where a large flower pot was. The leaves shook and there was a non-existent breeze.
"You want to play games? I can play. Ready or not, here I come!"
He launched at pot, knocking it over as his clawed fingers tore through the leaves. The dirt fell across the carpet. Tiny footsteps were appearing in it, leaving a trail towards the door. Alfred straightened up and saw the door throw itself open and another set of rushed footsteps and... hooves on the steps?
A fanged tooth poked deep into his tongue. Someone was going to Arthur's room after seeing his true identity in the mirror. He went to the bottom of the staircase and stared up. The light shade was swinging gently. Alfred waved mockingly at the invisible creature and then motioned for it to come closer.
Unseen by him, the fairy shook her dainty head and flew out to rejoin the others. The monster was on its way and Arthur was still fast asleep.
The gnome pushed the bedroom door closed when she entered the room. She flew over to the rest of her kin and settled down upon Arthur's messy hair. They pulled sharply at it, urging him to wake from his deep drunken slumber.
Arthur's hand rose and brushed them aside. Brownie joined them and tried to shake England awake. Every second felt like an agonising hour till the monster would walk in. Thankfully, unicorn and gnome were adding their enchantments to do the door. Hopefully their magic would last long enough for them to get England out of here.
The nation stirred and lifted his head off the pillow. His eyes were half lidded, his expression dazed and confused, and a trail of drool was left on his pillowcase. "Wh-what?" he stammered, his voice still heavy from his late night drinking.
Hangovers were horrible. Truly. Even centuries of getting plastered, England still never mastered surviving the morning after with dignity intact. His head was spinning and he placed his head back down, a fairy narrowly avoiding getting crushed. The blanket was tugged over his head so to stay hidden in darkness.
"I'm never drinking again," he croaked. "I hate myself. My head hurts. I'm going to vomit. Why did I drink so much?"
"Mister England! Wake up!"
Arthur moaned loudly in protest and curled up. His friends had done this before; when Arthur was running behind on work and decided to drink instead. Thankfully, Brownie had taken care of some of his work while he was recovering.
"Wake up!"
A sharp pain in his side made him yelp and sit up. He instantly regretted it and leant against the wall, pressing a cool hand against his forehead. "Uni! I told you to be careful with that horn. Don't you re... hey, what's wrong?" He blinked and stared at the shaken state his friends were in. He never saw them look so frightened.
They all spoke up at once. It was difficult to make them out but he heard a few key words; America, danger, trouble, and monster. Was Alfred in danger? Ignoring the headache, he went to get up when they pushed him down. Before he could ask why, there was a knock on the door.
"Hey Britain! Come out and let's have breakfast. I'm hungry. I'll cook!"
He opened his mouth to respond when the fairies fluttered in front of his face. He heard their jiggles and turned pale. Alfred wasn't the real America? But it made no sense...! Where would the real America be and why was this impostor with him? He hesitated. Fairies were notorious tricksters yet the brownie was nodding his head in agreement with their statements. It would explain the unusual behaviour of Alfred's over the past couple of days.
There was another knock on the door. "Briiiiiitain."
Arthur pressed his finger to his lips and ushered his friends away. Trusting him, they moved away and watched as Arthur dragged himself out of bed and cautiously approached the door. He was thankful to see the magical engravings but they were done in a rush and would not last long.
"Who are you?"
Silence. Then Alfred spoke, his voice lower than before. "Why don't you come out and see for yourself?"
Arthur was no fool. This creature knew he had been discovered and a cornered animal will do anything it can to escape. "I asked you a question. Where is the real America?"
"Gone. He's no longer here. There is only me."
Arthur leant against the door. He could feel a chill in the air. It was tense and horrible. Goosebumps rose on the back of his skin and his spine tingled. He knew this feeling. There was dark magic present: a vast amount of dark magic. Only a rare few could project it.
"You're a devil."
"I am the devil."
An odd sound trembled against the door. Curious to what he was doing, Arthur waved his hand and created a small transparent hole to peek through. A large blue eye were already on the other side, peering straight at him.
"If you won't come out then I'll come in!"
There was loud bang and the door rattled against its hinges. Arthur stumbled back with his friends taking protection behind him. They needed to get out of here and fast.
The devil's patience was put to the ultimate test. He could not recall a time where he was unable to respond in a violent manner to end his own personal suffering until now. And it was a teenager causing it. A whiny, bratty, and whiny (yes, double whiny) teenager was laid out flat on his floor, moping in self-pity. His face was planted into the carpet and his voice was, thankfully, growing quieter.
"What are you ranting about now?" Devil Arthur snapped.
"Foooooooood!"
"There's no mortal food here."
"Fooooooooooooooooood!"
Alfred was useless without his edible fuel. He needed the energy to move and fight and maybe think things over too. If his stomach was going to be empty for the rest of eternity, he rather someone take mercy and end it now. This was nothing short of torture!
It was over two weeks since he last ate. That was the longest he ever went. Sure, it didn't feel like two weeks but it was still a long time to go without a meal. His mouth was watering at the thought of having one more burger. Just one. One plateful. With fries on the side. A mountain of fries on the side. And a diet coke. A galleon of diet coke.
But it wasn't all bad. Because his mind was focusing purely on the stomach, he had no time to feel paranoid. Still, it wasn't a lot of comfort. His stomach continued to growl on and on. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and rolled onto his side with a louder whine.
"Are you going to do this the entire time you're here?"
"Yes."
"Tsh."
Arthur rose from the chair and left the room. Feeling abandoned, Alfred looked up with a puppy dog innocence. Was Arthur going to take pity and bring him food? He'll eat anything – even Arthur's terrible cooking. It would be a blessing from the gods. In that, it would kill him quicker so he didn't have to suffer.
The nation pushed his arms underneath himself and gradually built up enough energy to rise. Like a lost dog, he wandered after the devil. The layout of Arthur's house hadn't changed a lot since he last visited. Where had the devil disappeared off to? Haha... now there was no one near him, this place was beginning to feel creepy again. He remembered the ghost stories Arthur proudly bragged about. Alfred's visit was cut short suddenly then.
"Gordon Bennett, can't you think of anything besides your stomach?"
Alfred turned to see Arthur looming in a study room doorway. Oh. It didn't look like a place where food was kept. Disappointed, Alfred shook his head. "Nah. I think of other things."
"If you're going to lounge around, make yourself useful." The devil stood aside and waved an arm towards the room. "Come inside and assist me."
Helping a devil didn't sound like a noble act but Alfred wanted the company so slipped past him and gazed around at the room. He remembered seeing an identical one at England's. England was standing by a large black pot back then and chanting some mumbo jumbo. "Where did you get all this?"
"I didn't. It belongs to England. This world is parallel to yours. What happens there, usually happens here. With some examples naturally. It's most affected by the larger effects than minor ones so don't try anything funny. Now sit down and don't touch anything!"
America, whose finger was an inch away from a jar with a funky looking alien thing inside, lowered his hand. It bothered him to be treated like a child. In attempt to prove he could be mature, Alfred settled upon a table and stared around. It should frighten him but it applied more to his curiousity than fear.
He gazed back at the devil who was floating in the air again with a large book opened out before him in a stand. There was a deep look of attention on his face that Alfred just had to break.
"What are you doing? Reading? You're reading while my country is at sake to that thing up there?"
"So is your virginity but I don't here you bitching about that."
The bastard had the same temperament as England. It was impossible to talk friendly to him when he threw out insults in every sentence. "I'm not a virgin. I lost it centuries ago to -"
"Not interested."
The devil flicked the page over and ran a clawed finger along it. His lips were moving but no sound came out. Alfred bit the inside of his cheek and them attempted again.
"So what are you doing?"
"Shouldn't you be asking yourself that? It's your body. It's your country. Quite frankly, I don't see why I should be dragged into this mess any more than what I have."
Ah. Yes. He probably should think that way. Trouble was, most of Alfred's ideas died quickly because he didn't have any understanding on this world and knew nothing of the resources it could provide him. Plus, there were horrible creatures out there and his fists could only take him so far.
"So?"
"... I don't know what to do."
Arthur lifted his gaze from the book. "So?"
He was going to force him to say it before he did anything. Alfred could tell from the cocky way he spoke. Hating himself for doing so, Alfred glared sharply at the red head. "So I need help."
"Really?"
"From you."
"I'm flattered."
"Don't be."
Arthur smirked and returned to the book. "You're fortunate but as I said before. I don't give without taking."
"Name your price."
"Again, I will let you know when I see something of equal value."
"I have to wait?"
"Oh no! I will help. You will merely... be in my debt."
"Fine."
Something didn't feel right then. A weird tingle sensation spread across him. He shifted closer to the edge of the table and looked back, briefly wondering if he sat on something. He didn't. Alfred looked back at the devil who was looking happier than before.
"Why are you helping me?" Alfred asked. Most devils were pure evil in films and his devil was definitely bad news. But England's was... nice? Friendly as England could ever be. And he hadn't tried to hurt him (like he could) and helped him out a couple of times. Heck, except from the weird kiss, he was a pretty cool guy.
"Do not underestimate my intentions. Do you realise what position this puts me in? He believes he has everything under control but it was never him who was pulling the strings."
"I don't follow."
A dark smile grew on the devil's face. It was cruel and definitely devilish. "To have you in my debt. Can you imagine the possibilities? This is an incredible price to pay. Far more than a mere kiss. Not only do you owe me from stealing you away from the pit but now you owe me far greater than before for returning you back."
"You... I don't get it."
The book slammed close. Arthur drifted up higher, a dark green aura energy emitted from his being. "It was I who convinced him to go through with his plan. It was I who taught him how. It was I who told him what he needed to do. I told you earlier, you're power hunger. You know little of the world and want to control it. That makes you dangerous but easy to manipulate."
He had been used.
"You?!"
Alfred stood up, his hand shooting straight to his waist only – damn it, he didn't have his gun! He forgot. He held his fists. If he had to fight his way out of this, so be it! It will be easy!
"You belong to me now. Body and soul until your debt is repaid. To think that I now have two powerful countries in the palm of my hand, ready to do my bidding at a single mention." The devil wrapped his arms around himself and turned upside down with a growing smile. "It's highly satisfying."
Alfred's teeth gritted together. No. No one owned him and if he had to prove it to England again then he would without hesitation. "I'm the United fucking States of America. I don't answer to you. I don't answer to anyone."
He didn't move when the devil suddenly appeared in front of his face. A clawed finger ran along his cheek and down to his chin. "Oh, my dear boy," Arthur said in a velvety voice, "I think you find you'll have no choice. Sooner or later, you will submit."