Until the End Do We Part BOOK ONE

Chapter One I

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CHAPTER ONE
-
October 5th, 2023

Arthur set his head down on the steering wheel, trying to keep what dignity he had left. Eventually he sighed heavily, sitting up and straightening his black suit while turning on the ignition.

-
White walls surround us
No light will touch your face again
Rain taps the window
As we sleep among the dead
-

Thunder rolled outside, and a crack of lightning illuminated the stone city outside. The black iron gates glinted in the light, but the words of the sign were still unreadable because of the dark.

Arthur pulled out from the side of the road, slowly accelerating up the old Virginia road in his black Corvette.

-

One long flight to London and drive to his estate later, Arthur was under a blanket, finishing a cup of hot tea in his living room.

Arthur sighed, looking at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was close to midnight, and he was exhausted, but he couldn't stop thinking about the funeral.

After setting away his tea things and getting into a pair of night clothes, Arthur crawled into bed.

-
October 6th, 2023

He couldn't sleep.
It was two in the morning, and he was barely able to close his eyes.

He understood that he couldn't have him forever, but why did he have to die? And how? Nations only died if dissolved. A suicide had never happened.

And why would he kill himself anyway? He was perfectly happy!

A voice nagged at the back of England's mind, "He looked happy. There's a difference between being happy and looking happy," it said, sounding eerily like his voice.

Arthur sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. Both Matthew and Francis were at the funeral along with the rest of the Great Eight, and he had to be strong for all of them. He couldn't break down, not even now, because then he knew he would have to accept his death sometime. Arthur just didn't want to do it now.

Arthur almost laid back down until he heard quiet thumps coming from the stairs, along with an audible squeak.

The movements stopped, but after a pause, they seemed to continue, if not tentatively.

Arthur's eyes were wide open, and he had a hand on the pistol he kept beneath his pillow. Slowly pulling it out and crawling off his bed, he walked towards the door.

The footsteps seemed to fade, signaling that whoever was in Arthur's house had reached the first floor.

Arthur opened the door, peering down the stairs; he started to follow the noises. A loud thump came from just under him, as if someone had tripped over something.

Arthur crept down the staircase like a cat, keeping his pistol raised in front of him. He turned the corner, finding nothing.
Arthur cursed to himself, listening for more sounds.

Nothing happened. It was as if the sounds had never happened.
"Bloody hell... please don't tell me I'm going insane..."

Arthur almost went back to bed, but a loud crash suddenly came from the kitchen. He ran to the dining room, reaching the door to the kitchen.

All was quiet. Nothing made a sound for what seemed like hours, but were actually minutes. England knew that his kitchen was a dead end. If someone was in there, he was blocking their way out.

Taking a moment to steady himself, Arthur kept his gun level, and opened the door.

-
Days go on forever
But I have not left your side
We can chase the dark together
If you go, then so will I
-

The door creaked open into his kitchen. The rain from Virginia had decided to follow England to his house. Thunder rolled outside, and rain slammed against the window like bullets. Lightning cracked, momentarily lighting up the room.

There was no one in sight.

Arthur stood, glancing around, even looking behind the door for any intruders. Walking halfway across the room, he heard a crunch underneath himself, and pain shot into his socked foot.

Slowly taking a torch from a nearby drawer, Arthur shined it onto the ground.

Glass litter the floor, some big pieces scattered amongst smaller ones and fine, snow-like flakes.

Arthur cursed loudly, carefully stepping back as not to injure himself further. He switched the light on, sitting down on a chair in the corner of the room, glancing over his foot.

Little splotches of red painted the bottom of his sock along with shards of glass. Grimacing, he started removing the shards. Once all of them were gone, he felt his foot begin to heal. Getting up and grabbing the dustpan, Arthur started cleaning the glass.

He glanced over his shoulder into the dark dining room with a slight nervousness; the hairs on the back of his neck and arms were standing up, and the room had dropped a few degrees.

It felt like something was watching him.

After finally cleaning the mess and returning everything but the torch to its proper place, England brushed himself off. His foot had finished healing, but he was confused.

"If someone was going to break into my house, why would they merely stroll around and then break a glass? It makes no sense," Arthur thought irritatedly.
"As for the feeling of a presence... well, it's most likely nothing. I'm just a bit anxious about someone in my house."

-
October 20, 2023

Two weeks later, Arthur sat in his office, trying to read through paperwork. It was eleven o'clock at night; he should've gone to bed an hour ago.

Just as he was signing another document, Arthur started to feel warm, rhythmic pulses of air on the side of his neck, as if someone was leaning over his shoulder to see what he was working on.

He remembered that that was something Alfred used to do, and froze.

Arthur slowly turned around to face his office. For the second time, nothing was there.
He swallowed thickly, trying to simultaneously block out memories and quell the feeling something was in the room with him.

At first it had been just a creepy feeling in the house, but it had worked up to being all over the place, wherever he would go, constantly. A few times Arthur felt someone tap on his shoulder, or saw the curtains move aside even if there wasn't a draft.

When he went to restaurants, he would glance around to see who was watching him, but there would be no one.