~Chapter Two~

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Alfred's P.O.V
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This is dumb.

There was no other way to describe it.

I'm a witch killer.

That much was set in stone.

And yet, Alfred was carrying the small blonde witch in his arms, towards a safe place for the both of them. The very same witch he had just shot. The witch he had tried to murder.

The witch- Alfred still didn't know his name- was out cold. Not that he was surprised, he had lost alot of blood. Alfred had tried to stem the bloodflow with some of the spare bandages he had in his backback, but the witch still required medical attention and a place to rest.

It was dangerous, yes. But no one needed to know about the more... Magical side of the British man.

Alfred was heading towards the WKA (Witch Killer Association) safe house/medical room so he could patch up the witch properly. He knew that around this time, the only people in there were the nurses, guards and a couple of patients. It wouldn't be thar hard to infiltrate the building without arousing suspiscion, he had authority to anyway. He just had to make sure the witch didn't try to magic away any injuries or whatever he usually did when...shot.

The safe house was tucked out of the way so only people who knew where it was could find it, those people being members of the WKA. Alfred reached the wooden door that was practically invisible amongst the surrounding foliage. No one was standing guard at the moment. He just needed the witch to stay calm and he had this in the bag.

Pushing the door open with his foot, Alfred stepped inside and hit the lightswitch on the wall next to him with his back. He still held the witch in his arms which were slowly going numb. The witch wasn't very heavy but he was rested against Alfred's chest in an awkward way. If he was awake he would almost certainly be complaining.

There was a sofa on the other side of the room and Alfred gently set the witch down on it. He stirred slightly, and mumbled somthing that sounded like 'frncis...'. He was probably hallucinating.

Walking to the next room, he grinned as he caught sight of a couple of nurses. Sneaking up behind one of them, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and yelled "BOO!"

She screamed and dropped the book she was holding and spun round to reveal that she was Elizabeta, who had made the healing potions Alfred had recently tried to use on the witch, to no avail.

"Al! What the hell?" She yelled, swatting at Alfred irritably. He laughed and picked up her book, handing it to her with a wink.

"Heya Eliza, what you doing?"

Elizabeta snatched the book from him and put it on the table next to her then turned to face him with her arms crossed.

"I work here, remember? So unless you have an injury, clear off." She hissed. The other nurses looked over curiously but she gestured for them to get back to work.

"I'm fine. But I have a... Friend that needs help." Alfred explained awkwardly. But Elizabeta perked up immediatly. She grabbed her large medical kit and followed Alfred into the next room.

"He's just over... Oh!"

The witch was awake and was shuffling around on the sofa, wincing and hissing in pain. When he heard Alfred and Elizabeta enter the room he froze, eyes wide and panicky.

"Halló honey, don't worry. I'm here to help." Elizabeta explained gently to the scared man before her. She showed him her medical kit as proof but he didn't seem reassured. He held out a hand and backed away from her as much as his injury would allow.

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