Disclaimer: I own nothing

Thoughts: blah blah blah

Billy: blah blah blah

Thanks for all your reviews and for enjoying my work!

The song you MUST listen to during this is "Nigram Clavem" from the Kuroshitsuji Ost, Make sure to look up the "Extendeded version" (yes, with two ed)

The following poems/rhymes do NOT belong to me (but the rest do)

One bright day in the middle of the night,

Two dead boys got up to fight,

Back to back they faced each other,

Drew their swords and shot each other,

A deaf policeman heard the noise,

And ran to save the two dead boys,

And if you don't believe it's true

Go ask the blind man,

he saw it too,

Arthur's face paled, "Y-Your...p-prey?"

That terrible, terrible grin stretched impossibly wider and the worth echoed from unmoving lips, "Yes, you are my prey, my dear Arthur."

Arthur shook his head wildly, "Why are you doing this?! What did I ever do to you?! What did Alfred ever do to deserve this?!"

"Nothing."

Green eyes widened, "W-Wha?"

"Alfred did nothing to deserve my torture...You, however, have done everything."

England shrunk back in horror as Billy's skin began to literally melt, globs of flesh and cloth dropping onto the black floor of nothingness. Muscle decayed until all that was left was a skeleton. England's eyes widened, "W-Wood?" Indeed, all that was left of Billy was a wooden skeleton. There were pins holding together the joints and on the skull were two horns that were bent backwards at an awkward angle. The eye sockets were empty black holes and the mouth was filled with sharp teeth. It was then that England saw the strings.

Red threads were connected to each joint and extended up into the nothingness that was the sky. He looked back at the wooden frame and let out a startled yelp as it suddenly jerk to the right. Then to the left. And then it began to flail about wildly in something that Arthur was hesitant to call a dance.

Green eyes followed the red strings up as far as they would go and Arthur gasped when he saw that they each connected to a finger. Each finger connected to a hand, each hand connected to an arm, each arm connected to a shoulder, each shoulder connected to a torso, the torso connected to a neck, the neck connected to a head, upon the head was a face, a face that belonged to none other than Billy.

Literally swirling dark blue eyes seemed to laugh with glee. Sharp teeth glittered in the dark and Arthur caught the glimpse of a black tongue. As Billy began to chant, the puppet burst into flames, still dancing it's twisted little dance and laughing hysterically.

"Willy was a helpful boy but quite near-sighted,

He built a fire in the fireplace and self-ignited;

Now, the wind is blowing cold and the room is getting chilly,

And not one of us wants to put out poor Willy!"

The puppet suddenly let out an ear-splitting shriek and England found himself falling down into the empty space. He cried out when he landed in something akin to sand and looked around. Only to scream.

Hundred upon hundred of glass eyes heaped into mounds as far as he could see. Arthur struggle to stand and flinched when the eyes followed him. He took a couple stumbling steps before slipping and falling back into the eyes. He noted in horror that they were dark blue and with moving darker swirls. He felt himself sinking into the moving glass eyes and screamed as he was engulfed. He felt something rush into his mouth-not a liquid but not anything else he could recognize, either-and he gagged violently. He scratched at his throat with his nails as he felt whatever was in his body squirm and itch. It itches it itches it itches it itches it itches it itches IT ITCHES! He ignored the fact that he was not so slowly tearing his flesh apart and that he was falling through black again.

Voices that seemed far off and yet so clear were swimming around him.

Do you see that?

Is he breathing?

Why the rush?

Don't run away from us...

England let out a gasp as he hit the meadow. He quickly checked his throat and found that his wounds were gone...

He was lying in a meadow of daisies-but the sky was still pitch black. He stood on shaky legs and glanced about. "H-Hello?" No reply. Instead he felt something slithered over his shoe. He let out a yelp and looked down to realize that the daisies were covered in maggots. They writhed and wriggled around him and seemed to be making intricate patterns with their pink bodies.

Suddenly the ground began to rumble and shake. Skeletal hands, still adorned with strings of flesh, burst from the ground around him and grappled at his legs. He tried in vain to kick them away, only to trip back into their grip and he gasped as they tore at his clothes. They ripped through his flesh as if it were paper, and he felt the maggots worm their way into his skin. He thrashed and screamed as he was literally ripped apart.

And then it stopped.