Request~2P!EnglandxOC~Part 1

Request~2P!EnglandxOC~Part 1

Warning: Gore, Violence, Suggestive Themes

I sense there's something in the wind
That seems like tragedy's at hand
And though I'd like to stand by him
Can't shake this feeling that I have

…

The worst is just around the bend.

-----

"You sure you're alright not being an orphan, Terra? It's jolly good fun."

I swallowed. I knew Arthur wouldn't hesitate to make me one in a heartbeat. He said it would be easier—because I knew his dark secret, his obsession.

"I'm sure," I said to my one and only companion.

Complications in our lives had made us naturally isolated from our peers: mine with Daddy, Arthur with his obsession.

Arthur brushed back his light strawberry hair and began to fiddle with his knife.

"I've been getting into cooking lately," he said casually. "Did you know that each kitchen knife holds a purpose? There's the paring knife, the steak knives, the bread knife, the chef's knife, the filet knife, and my personal favorites: the carving and boning knives."

"Is that so?" I commented trying my best to remain interested in the subject. Arthur used me as a talking buddy; he didn't talk to other people for very long, and when he did, they ended up as ingredients a few moments later. I had seen the entire process once.

"It is!" Arthur exclaimed with a large, twisted grin plastered on his face. I saw his eyes grow wide, the white of his eyes clearly visible in the full-moon's light, and his icy blue irises gleamed as he stared off into space.

"I've been having some trouble choosing between the two because both can be very useful. For example, the carving knife is so fine that it can cut thin pieces of flesh. It goes well with the scream factor because I keep them alive longer that way. They're such idiots! If they knew better, they'd know that the longer they screamed, the longer they'd suffer. It's a physiological response the body makes to stop the pain and bleeding—but it does nothing to stop the fear.

"Then there's the boning knife. It's very small, but it's also flexible: perfect for getting those last itty bits of muscle and trimming the fat. I have to say, though: it's a pleasingly good thing human's bones are so large—unlike rats and pusses and mutts. They never hold still, either."

"That's nice, Artie," I said quietly trying not to stare into his cold blue eyes.

"Isn't it?" Arthur clapped with glee. I let out a soft gasp when he squished my cheeks together with his hands, his knife still in his grip.

"Since you think so…" he grinned maniacally, "then perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try this one out on you…"

I stood my ground and dared to not blink, not to even flinch an eyelid. One wrong move, and it would be over.

Don't blink, I told myself as the cold steel rubbed against my tender skin.

Don't blink, I told myself as a seething pain pulsated through my left cheek, and blood began to flow.

Don't blink, I told myself as Arthur moved his tongue to my cut and lapped up the oozing blood.

When he was done, he zoomed back and continued to stare into my eyes trying to look for a breaking point he could enter and destroy my entire existence through.

Then, his eyelids closed and opened. The spell was broken.

Arthur smacked his lips and pursed them into a twisted frown.

"You need more iron in your blood," he said. "How's your pops feeding you?"

"I—"

Without warning, Arthur dug his hands under my thick (f/c) sweatshirt and ran his clammy hands over my skin that was now crawling with goose-bumps. I didn't make a sound as he gave me an entire run-through of my body, moving from my thin stomach up to my chest where my ribs created long, slender bumps against my flesh. He rubbed his hands behind my back, his knife still in his hand, but he was careful not to make a cut. I could feel him tracing his fingers over my sharp shoulder blades that protruded through my undernourished frame. Finally, when he was done with his examination, he slipped his hands out from underneath and began to look at his knife again.

"He's not giving you enough to eat," he said twisting the tip of his knife against his index fingertip until it began to bleed.

"I-It's not so bad…" I said quietly.

I was lying. I never ate breakfast. Daddy was sober in the morning. I never ate lunch. Daddy never gave me money. I never ate dinner. Daddy and I didn't know how to cook.

"Are you hungry, Terra?" Arthur asked suddenly looking at me.

I clutched my thin stomach, my bony limbs making large amounts of space in my loose attire.

"Yes…" I whispered.

"Here," Arthur said and grabbed onto my long orange hair and shoved his finger up my throat. I wanted to gag and throw up—but there wasn't anything in my stomach to expel. I could taste the hot metallic flavor of his blood running down my throat. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until he introduced me to this unusual source of nutrition. It almost tasted sweet.

"I know you want more," Arthur chuckled with a widespread grin.

I wanted to tell him "yes." Anything was better than nothing now that I had become desperate enough. Even that.

Since I was unable to speak, I managed to nod my head carefully so I wouldn't choke on his finger. That wouldn't be a concern any longer because he pulled his finger out of my throat, the familiar taste of his blood now diluting against my barely-salivating mouth.

"If you're hungry, why don't we go shopping for ingredients?" Arthur asked me with his usual sickening grin glued stuck to his face.

It was almost humorous. Cruel humor, but it was still humor.

"Shopping," indeed. Definition: "Looking for the best available price or rate."

The price? Our sanity, our morals, our lives.

The goods…?

"Sure, Artie," I said.

What will become of my dear friend?
Where will his actions lead us then?

-----

"You're going to slow me down, Terra," Arthur hissed as he turned around and glared at me with his piercing eyes. "Why don't you just stay back and tell me if someone is coming?"

"Okay," I eagerly agreed not wanting to witness his shopping spree again. Once was enough.

"Hee hee hee," Arthur giggled malevolently. "I'm going to get a bargain tonight…"

I leaned on the brick wall by the entrance of the alleyway and looked up at the moon. It was beautiful tonght, but under its mystifying light, something dark was about to take place.

-----

I waited for what seemed like hours. Waiting for something bad to happen would do that to a person. I poked my head out of the alley and looked at both sides. Not a single soul was in sight. With the coast clear, I summoned all of my courage and went into the darkness that devoured my senses.

Perhaps the greatest fear of all is fear of the unknown. If I knew what I was frightened of, I could then start looking for a solution—but the problem was, I didn't know.

I didn't want to make any noises. What if Arthur mistook me for someone else? What then? Would I become a freebie? A two-for-one deal?

The alley's inner path, by proper instrumental measurement, was the same as it was underneath the moonlight. But the dank depths of the walls that crowded together made me shiver despite it being a fairly warm early summer night and wearing a sweatshirt and baggy sweats.

The air became thick—not because of fog, but because of blood. It came as a warning at first, but soon, it swept over my nostrils like a sickening dam about to burst open. The closer I got, the more the pressure built up until it exploded into my brain triggering a sky-rocketing torrent of fear that screamed, begging me to flee.

You can do this, Terra, I told myself. The gut-wrenching stench was so overwhelming, the source couldn't be too far away now.

A knife thrust in a perfect stabbing motion millimeters away from my throat. It happened so fast, I didn't even have time to react.

"Oh, it's just you," Arthur said monotonously and lowered his knife. His normally clean vest and bowtie were splattered with blood.

"A-Artie…you're…"

"Unharmed," Arthur finished. "What did you expect from the great Cupcake King? But I digress. The product is too messy to take home."

"Ohh…" was all I could muster. I noticed that the body that was beside him was still steaming like he had recently been killed. I hadn't even heard anything.

"Were you followed?" Arthur asked.

"No," I said shaking my head convincingly. But Arthur had other thoughts. He took my hand and lead me out of the alley leaving the bloody body behind, the stench fading with every step I took.

"Artie, where are we going?" I whispered.

"You lied, Terra," Arthur hissed under his breath.

"What?" I blinked in disbelief.

Suddenly, I heard a muffled, deep sound. As the light of the moon began to pour into the opening, I could make out a man's voice.

"Suspect…unidentified…two of them…in an alley between 12th and K Street…What the bloody hell…?!"

I shut my eyes as Arthur took his knife in both of his hands and thrust it deep into the officer's gut. The officer gagged and dropped his communicator. He was going to die here. There wasn't enough time to take him back with us.

"Pleasure doing business with you, officer!" Arthur laughed manically and pulled out his knife and began to continuously stab at his victim. Each time the knife came down on a different part of his body, the officer let out a cry. With each time it struck and made another wound to bleed in, the cry got softer. Soon, the officer stopped making noises altogether.

"We can't have him divulging our identities," Arthur grinned. He turned to me and stared with his icy blue eyes wide open, a newfound hunger and adrenaline coursing through his system. This was his obsession, his never-ending hunger for blood.

"A shame we can't bring him back," he said looking disappointedly at the dead officer. "Shall we continue?"

I gulped. "Yeah."

-----

"Are you suuure?"

"I'm sure, Artie," I said with a firm voice.

"It's fuuunn~" Arthur stretched out "fun" as an emphasis on his deteriorating sanity. It wasn't going to work on me. I couldn't allow it—for his sake.

"I already told you, Artie," I said. "I'm going to bed. Maybe I won't be so hungry then."

"If you say so, Terra," Arthur shrugged.

I opened the front door and took a step inside my house. The front door was never locked. There was no need. I hesitated, and then I looked back at Arthur.

"Good night, Artie," I said. "See you next night?"

"And the night after that, and the night after that, and until infinity!" Arthur smiled and swung his rustic red-stained knife in the air. "I love summer vacation!"

"Me, too," I said wearily.

"Nighty-night, Terra!" Arthur smiled and waved with his fingers bending as if playing an invisible vertical keyboard.

I gave Arthur a small smile and shut the door behind me. As soon as I heard Arthur's footsteps leave my driveway, I ran to the bathroom and threw up nonexistent contents and saliva.

After relieving my empty stomach, I wiped my mouth and began to get ready for bed. My stomach was literally going to kill me if I didn't get something to eat, but perhaps if I slept it off, I could hold on just a little bit longer. But I really was going to have to wait just a little bit longer.

"Terra? Is that you?"

I stopped in my tracks. That was Daddy's voice.

"Y-Yes, Daddy. It's me," I answered softly.

"I haven't seen you all day," Daddy groaned. I could already smell the pungent aroma of alcohol on his breath. He was drinking again. "Where've you been, Terra?"

"Here and there," I said. Then, I felt a powerful blow to my face that sent me flying to the side. I must've been really light.

"Don't pull that shit on me," Daddy growled and slurred. "You've been hanging out with that prissy pants freak, haven't you?"

"So what if I have?" I whimpered rubbing my stinging cheek. I took another blow; this time, it was to the head. The glass hurt more than his hand, for sure.

"Don't talk back to me!" Daddy shouted. "From now on, I don't want you ever leaving the house without my permission!"

"You're never home, anyway," I said quietly. Daddy hit me with his beer bottle again. It hurt. I bit my chapped lips so hard to stop the tears from flowing, I began to taste my own iron-depleted blood.

"I thought I told you not to talk back to me!"

Sorry, I so desperately wanted to say. I would've said anything to make him stop, but I didn't want him to be mad at me for speaking out of place again. Did Arthur know about this? For the sake of keeping myself together, I hoped not.

--Arthur's POV--

Too bad! So sad! Why would little Terra want to stay with that lousy excuse of a product? He was out-dated! Moldy! Not to mention cheap. The cheap stuff wasn't good.

Arthur stopped skipping and turned perfectly on his heel. Terra's place was only a few houses away. He could go back and fetch her. It would be long before the heat died down. Then they could have fun again!

He began to hesitate.

Why did he choose to hang out with her? She was very uninteresting. So…dull. With her bony body, she wouldn't even make a better product than her sorry excuse of a parent—but it wasn't like Arthur's were any better.

There are few who'd deny, at what I do I am the best
For my talents are renowned far and wide

"Oh, who cares~?" Arthur sang out and skipped back to Terra's house, swinging his knife to and fro.

What did it matter that Terra said "no?" Being an orphan was fun! You could do whatever you wanted and no one would get mad at you. You could get your own food without having to worry about your parents refusing your request. You could eat all of the things you wanted! You could do whatever the hell you wanted! And no one would hit you with the rolling pin, or burn you with the hot baking rack, or lock you up in the attic with the sugar rats, or break your bones just for fun.

Anarchy was bliss!

Terra would be liberated! She would thank him! She would!

When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night
I excel without ever even trying
With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms
I have seen grown men give out a shriek

Wait just a minute. Someone was already shrieking.

Arthur quickened his stride and danced across the dead lawn of the Mayfield's property. He tapped open the front door and tossed his knife from one hand to the other.

"Oh, Mr. Maaayyfieeellld! Teeerrraa! Where aaarre yooou?!" he called out into the dark house. When was the last time they paid their electricity bill? No matter! The darkness was a good friend.

"Oooh, what's this?" Arthur stopped and began to sniff. Blood.

Sweet wine of life! It has been spilt!...But by whom?

Carefully, with a tip-toe and a dance, Arthur continued to prowl throughout the Mayfields' house and searched for the source, sound and/or smell.

Then, Arthur heard a loud shattering noise. Must've been one of those bottles.

"Hee hee hee~" Arthur giggled. "I know where you are now~!"

The Mayfields were in the kitchen—well, one of them, anyway. The other one was dead.

Arthur blinked. He looked at the pool of blood that was forming in a perfect ellipse around the dead body. Every puncture created by the shattered glass bottle and the manner in which each thrust was inserted could be considered an art form all on its own. The killer's breath was short but full of energy from the first kill.

A new fascination swept over Arthur's dormant thrill-seeking desires. It had been a long time since he had gotten so excited. Killing was getting boring, but seeing the birth of another, one who reminded him of his place many years ago, was a thing of ferocious beauty.

"A-Artie?" Terra whimpered with her large teal eyes wide open and the broken bottle trembling in her hands, her frail, bare body shivering from adrenaline and the cold of the blood-soaked tile floor.

He couldn't help but grin. She could be a fun, new purpose. A mysterious spark twinkled in his dull, icy blue eyes.

Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones
An emptiness began to grow
There's something out there, far from my home
A longing that I've never known

"So, Terra, how does it feel to be an orphan?" Arthur smiled.

Terra hesitated—but only for a millisecond.

"Alive," she answered.

Oh! This was all too good!

"Normally, I'd say your pops is cheap merchandise, but what do you say we make it an exception?" Arthur asked reaching out his hand to the newborn killer.

This time, Terra didn't hesitate. She took his hand and lifted herself onto his chest for support and warmth. Her fingers were so bony, her body malnourished.

A devilish grin appeared on Arthur's face.

This was going to be interesting. Terra may have been reborn, but he was beginning to feel something stir, too.

"Get everything you need," he ordered pushing her off. Terra looked surprised, but the realizations were slowly beginning to come to her.

His grin still on his face, Arthur added, "You're not going to go hungry tonight, Terra."