A/N: okay, so because of my GCSE exams getting closer and closer, and my parents and teachers constant demanding of me to 'revise' and 'work', in gonna upload less often. Please bare with me, though! The stories will be updated when I have any time to spare.
A bit if good news: after approximately June 17th, I will have about a whole month off school; which means new stories and one shots! Yay! Possibly some spamanogypsyyuri. I'm not saying anything though...
Sadiq Annan was the sort of naturally unlikable boy that flourished in his high school years; physically intimidating, short tempered and fuelled by testosterone and general teen angst. He always wore a dark green hoodie that shaded the top half of his face from human sight. He liked it that way; it made people even more intimidated when he beat them to a pulp. He had accumulated a posse of sorts, finding other misunderstood boys wanted as much as him to show some form of dominance and control in their lives.
Sadiq and his gang never held any particular grudges, they just chose their victims at random, making sure never to pick a fight with any of the students deemed 'cool'. Certain classmates they enjoyed cornering most were the timid social outcasts. These included the slow Greek boy Heracles Karpusi, the culinarily apt pansy Feliciano Vargas, 'defence against the dark arts' Arthur and computer buff Eduard Von Bock.
The later of these was trying his absolute best to ignore the Turkish douche bag while looking intensely at his computer screen. The computing lesson had been extremely slow, especially considering the teacher of said lesson had left his class in favour of an extremely young woman that appeared at his door, wanting to 'go out'.
"Come on Eddie! Didn't your mama tell you it's rude to ignore someone?"
Sadiq was growing tired of the Estonian's neglect of comebacks, and was beginning to think that if he didn't inspire fear in his victim's eyes, his 'friends' would inspire fear in his eyes. Business wasn't running particularly well for the hooded ne'er do well. Just yesterday, he had approached mystical Arthur in the canteen and was just about to flip his lunch tray, when that ridiculously strong champion of justice, Alfred, bent his arm in extremely unnatural ways.
Sadiq was growing tired of pretending to be something he was not. He turned away from life's opportunities, and before he knew it, everyone around him had made friends and joined clubs. Some had even fallen in love. Yes, it was definitely time to move on. Maybe he could patch things up with Heracles, he could visit his grandma more often and finally buy that electric hand whisk he wanted; it was so much easier to beat the eggs-
Bam!
A sloppy left hook pounded fiercely into his jaw. He felt a very brutal force behind it, a kind of unforgiving, mechanical, inhuman force. In fact, by the time he had come to the conclusion that some heartless psychopath just punched him, he was already knocked down onto the floor with a black eye and broken nose.
Above him, a familiar face kicked in his ribs. It was Tino, the easy going, small Finnish boy. But that didn't make sense- last time Sadiq had seen Tino, he had been petting an adorable puppy whilst sheltering it from the rain with his umbrella. How did that become this!? And how could that tiny boy knock down the Turkish man who was twice his size?
Those were the last thoughts going through Sadiq's head as lost copiousness.
"I suppose it does have a certain supernatural ring to it."
Francis already had his arm around the Englishman's neck before he replied.
"I think it's the perfect job for us!"
"Yes- 'us', not 'you'. And unhand me this instance, you perverted French git!"
To Arthur's dismay, his fiendishly strong friend interrupted him before he could knock some sense into his new 'colleague'.
The Frenchman assumed a stern position opposite Arthur, crossing his arms like a stroppy schoolboy. He looked quite ridiculous, and his sympathy inducing stance had the opposite effect on the Brit, causing him to involuntarily chuckle.
"Angleterre! You act like such a jerk towards me, but I've been working hard on our little mystery. Here!" He shoved a printout in Arthur's face while Alfred smirked down at his friend, in a seemingly proud manner. Arthur found this extremely frustrating, considering he almost definitely did not do any of that work himself.
Green eyes skimmed the crinkled sheet, ignoring page after page on the students involved; he'd seen enough of Sadiq as it was, he didn't need a fact sheet to tell him he was a prick. Besides, who's to say Arthur wasn't pleased that Sadiq got some sense pounded into him? Okay, so maybe it was more than a bit suspicious that the perpetrator of said 'crime' had no memory of the event and insisted on sending the bully a basket of fruit in his hospital bed, but besides that, it wasn't really a big mystery. Right?
He continued to stumble through page after page of research, only partially paying attention to what he was reading, when he found a printout of a newspaper. 'Teen murdered in classroom'. Arthur's magic senses were tingling like crazy. After all, it's not everyday you find a murder occurred two years ago in the same room that an innocent boy some how ended up giving the resident cut up a black eye and a few more scars to remember him by.
"Impressed, mon Cher? I know you and I both understand how 'possession' works, non? I think we have a vengeful spirit on our hands."
Francis chuckled his signature laugh, enjoying deeply the look of surprise and gratitude in Arthur's deep green orbs; noticing it was tinged with ever so slight annoyance. He was going to take the Brit on the supernatural bonding trip of a lifetime, whether he liked it or not. After all, it had been a while since the vampire had found someone truly interesting and attractive, and he wasn't about to let him go. Besides, Arthur was a challenge, and the only thing he liked better than a challenge was the blood of the innocent.
The Supernatural defence squad lurked behind after hours to visit their dead suspect, Arthur supposed that was just kind of what they did now; they were the weirdos that played at ghost busters after hours. That was definitely going to go down well with his favourite bullies; not only did he believe in magic, but hung around the school at night to make contact with souls from beyond the grave.
Just while Arthur was in the middle of his 'fuck my life' moment, he felt a strong hand reach onto his shoulder, and in a second, Alfred was walking next to him.
"Iggy... We aren't gonna die are we?" The American sniffed at him. Well that came out of nowhere. Of all the things Arthur expected to hear his lively companion say during their spooky missions, that was not one of them.
He didn't think tall, strong, charismatic (and quite good looking...) Alfred F. Jones would be afraid of ghosts. Perhaps he could play the straight man and tell him that vengeful spirits are a load of hokum, but that would be, quite frankly, a blatant lie. He needed to say something- his comrade was in desperate need of moral assistance, and as club president it was his duty to calm the nerves of his subordinates. At least, that's what he told himself while trying desperately to justify his longing to give the crybaby a big old hug.
Alright, let it never be said that Arthur Kirkland isn't one to help his friends in need.
He stepped towards his friend as they prepared to enter the crime scene, arms spread slightly open. "Alfred, I-"
The Brit wasn't able to complete his mission, as he was pushed (rather violently) into said mysterious classroom by a put-out Frenchman. A flurry of colourful curse words urged to escape his lips, but none found their way out due to the sudden silhouette emerging before him. He felt Francis run to his side, followed by a less eager Alfred, both curiously gazing at the image of a dark haired teen that seemed to flicker around the edges like an old video recording.
Quickly, two large and inquisitive emerald eyes snapped open, and a grin spread across the dead brunette's face.
"Hola! Looks live I've finally got some company. You can be my new Amigos!"