=Note= Heya guys! Here's the next chapter! But before we get started, I would like to acknowledge my lovely reviewers:

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I love you guys so much. Your reviews are so uplifting and encouraging and I ant you guys to know that you're the reason why I'm still writing this story and working hard on it too! I loooove you guys, really!

So, here we go. This is for you guys!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia…sorry! But wouldn't that be awesome?

=IAL=

British Butler

Chapter 6: My Butler, Guilty Past

"Well, well. I didn't know you were so fond of me," a voice echoed in the darkness.

Arthur snapped up, eyes wide with confusion as he looked around him. He saw nothing but darkness, the blackness making him fear the worst. Where was he?

"W-Where's Alfred? Where's everyone!?" he panicked.

"Don't you see," the voice replied. "Time is ticking away for your friends."

A bright light shone, momentarily blinding Arthur. Cringing, Arthur shields his face as he tried to adjust his eyes in the lighting. He gasped; mouth gaped as he watched the great grandfather clock tick before him.

The hand was only at 11:30.

"Wha-"

"You are wondering what that means, correct?"

Arthur jumped the voice too close for his liking. He looked over to see his counterpart leaning on the clock, a cup of tea in one hand and a cupcake in the other. He took a sip of his tea, a smile gracing across his freckled face as he looked at the blonde.

"It's nice to see you again, Arthur," he said cheekily, holding the cupcake up slightly. "Cupcake?"

"I don't want your bloody cupcake, damn it!" Arthur snapped. "What did you do to everyone? Was this your plan!?"

"Of course not," Oliver gasped in mock offense, pushing himself off of the clock. "I would never get my hand dirty, I assure you. I honestly think that he invaders in your home has connections with what I've been trying to warn you about."

"Warn me about what, you bloody sod?" Arthur growled. "About Francis? About what exactly? You haven't been very clear from the start!"

"Of course I have," Oliver scoffed. "But being that you are a stubborn delinquent, you're not listening very clearly. You don' want to listen because f you believe it you'll become hardened towards the man that owns you. And If that happens-" Oliver giggled, bursting into laughter that was eerie; bouncing off of the pure was with intimacy. "The boy will surely be harmed, right?"

Arthur growled, brows forming into a deep frown. He bit his lip, trying with all his might not to kill the cheeky bastard before him.

"Remember that dream you had that night?" Oliver continued seriously. "Of all the flames licking every inch of your home? Of the entire house going down right before your eyes?"

"Stay out of my head!"

"It's simply a warning I was giving you," Oliver snapped lightly. "Right along with me verbally telling you. Honestly Arthur, your stubbornness will be the death of the ones you love. You're immortal so it really doesn't matter."

"Shut up and tell me what the hell's going on!" Arthur roared. "Right now you bloody-"

"Fiend?" Oliver finished with a smirk. "My, my Arthur. If I knew any better, I'd say you've forgotten who you are. What you are that is."

Arthur snapped his mouth shut. He only sound being heard was the painfully slow ticking of the clock. His green eyes were dulled, his face loss all expression as he looked down on his lap. Blood splotched on the pure white floor, coloring it in its beauty. The heavy scents of blood entering his nostrils, making him bare his teeth and growl.

More blood seeped out of the white walls, surrounding the blonde. Arthur's eyes widened. His breathing quickened as he quickly stood to his feet, trying to back away from his guilty pleasure.

A dark chuckle echoed on the sterile walls, bouncing and torturing Arthur.

"Running from the truth I see," he said cockily. "Admit it, you miss sucking people dry of life. You miss the salty metallic taste of something so beautiful as human blood. I'm really impressed that you allowed that Frenchman to capture you so easily many years ago. How embarrassing really."

"Shut up!" Arthur snapped, eyes now glowing ruby red, his fangs menacing. "Shut up, damn it!"

"Oh hw you dreamt of killing the boy," Oliver purred. "You wonder what his blood tastes like so from keeping yourself from harming him, you became close to him o it would be impossible for you to kill him."

"I said shut up!" Tears were now streaming down Arthur's face as he fell to his knees in the blood.

With a roar, the room cracked likes glass, shattering and falling into blackness. The clock still ticked on, Oliver still sipping his tea as if nothing went wrong. The other slowly opened his eyes, smirking over the rim of his cup as he licked his lips as the room filled with flames and screams.

Arthur covered his ears, eyes shut tightly as a stream of guilt wracked his body. Oliver darkly chuckled, walking over to the blonde. Kneeling by his side, Oliver wrapped his arms around his shoulders and brought his lips close to the other's ear.

"Listen to those screams," he said. "You cause them. You were the one who landed the boy where he is now. With a heatless father who wants to kill him. You were the one who destroyed his life and your making it up to him by being his slave."

"I didn't know Francis would find me," Arthur shook. "How the bloody hell was I supposed to know that she was the boy's mother!? I did what I could to survive!"

"Arthur!"

Arthur looked up to see the young boy lost in the flames. Right beside him as another figure. It was like looking in the mirror.

A woman ran as the other chased her down, slinging her to the ground and brutally ripped into her neck. Blood splattered everywhere, making Arthur wince at the sight. He knew who it was. He recognized that hair from anywhere. It was like looking in the mirror.

Tears streamed down his face as he watched. That was him. That was him who killed her. Who ruined Alfred's life by killing the woman who loved him. By sentencing him to death by his own father's hands.

"You see," Oliver whispered. "You are a monster. You have no right to despise your own kind. You're just as bad."

Arthur shook in anger, fist balled.

"Time's running out," he said. "This house's going down. The boy will die. And Francis won't be the one who kills him."

"No, no! You're lying!" Arthur shouted at the other, face wet and face red. "No! I will not hurt Alfred!"

"Tick tock. Tick tock~" Oliver sang.

"I said shut up!"

=Note= Sorry for the shortness. I decided at the last minute that this will be a chapter by itself. I actually like this chapter. I enjoyed writing it. In this story, I kind of wrote 2p Arthur as a cheeky bastard who rubs Arthur's past crimes in his face. That and he still love his cupcakes! Next chapter will be up soon enough! If there's any grammar or spelling that's incorrect…ignore them while I fix them!