"Hello?" You call out as you open the door to the bakery. Cringing slightly at all the bright pastels surrounding you, you travel further into the shop. A sweet ding resounded throughout the empty cafe as the door behind you closed.
Looking around the place was empty, well except for someone at the register. There behind it sat an black hair boy with black makeup and piercings. Is he possibly the owner? Or the owner's son? He definitely didn't fit in with this pastel theme but you knew not to judge right away from appearances.
"How may I help you?...." The boy asks in a monotone voice, not even bothering to look up from his phone.
"I'm here for the job application today." You say flashing him a smile the best you could.
"Oh.....follow me...." He says as he brings you to the back room. You guessed you shouldn't even try to be friendly in this world. It was honestly probably unusual.
Walking to the backroom with you in tow, You see him look at a piece of paper before sighing and mumbling out "... go Make a batch of cupcakes or whatever..."
Alright? You choose not to press into the teen any longer and instead roll up your sleeves. You just hoped the lessons France and Belgium taught you about baking would come in handy right now.
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Wiping off your hands on a nearby towel, You step back to take a good look at your finished work.
It wasn't your best work, the frosting wasn't as perfect as you wanted but it was still nice. You went with a different flavor than one you would normally choose, a batch of pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.
The teen finally notices you are finished with your task and walks over.
"Good enough to pass..." The teen mumbles, not even attempting to try to eat one. Shrugging off his apron, he hands it to you, "Good luck with Oliver..... I quit."
As the teen just leaves you there, baffled, You could help but think, "Then,... who is the owner....?"
While you ponder your life decisions for a couple of minutes, a loud slam erupts from the front. What just happened?
"Alright whoever is in here give me all your money!!!" A voice shouts out angrily. Peering from behind the door, you see a tall menacing guy wearing a ski mask walking around. At first you thought you could take him, especially with the training you have done over the years. But after taking one look at the fact he had a pistol clutched in his right hand, you decided against it. A surprise attack or an escape would be the best possible choice in this situation.
However as you are about to run to grab a knife from the kitchen, you step on a small cookie decoration causing a loud crunch to be heard.
"Shit...—" A gun shot comes flying, cracking through the wall near you. You quickly duck for cover behind the central table.
"I know your back there! Don't make me come get you!!!"
With no other way to exit the bakery from what you can see, you are left with no other choice but to follow the man's orders.
"Alright sweetheart if you don't wanna get hurt I suggest you give me all the money in the register~."
He says with a smirk as he watches you come out with your hands up.
As the man comes up from behind you to watch you take out the cash, you realize something. You are possibly giving up someone else's week pay here. One that could decipher if they get food or not this week. Especially in a terrible place like this, every cent could possibly count.
With a fire now burning in you, you get ready. Exactly when the man wasn't looking, you slammed the tip jar against his face, shattering the jar as well as his nose. Blinded and in pain, You use the opportunity of the man dropping the gun to kick it to the other side of the room so it was out of reach.
However, unexpectedly the man recovers rather quickly and pushes you to the ground. Getting on top of you, he wraps his hands around your throat. Unable to breath, you struggle and kick to attempt to get him off you but it was no use. The man weighed much more than you.
Your vision begins to fade and you soon think it's the end. Then, just as you think death is knocking at your door, his grasp around your neck disappears and you are able to breath.
"Oh my...—" You had to force yourself from gagging right then and there once you see why the man had stopped strangling you. Blood dripped down slowly from the gaping gash in his head, some starting to pool on the ground next to you. Said wound was courteously caused by a thick sharp butcher knife still lodged in his head.
Wiping the saliva that rolled down your lips from the gag reflex, you feel someone push your hair back to get a good look at your face.
"You okay, deary?" A sickenly sweet voice concerly asks, making you turn to look up at them.
Oh god.... t-that's England's 2p...?
YOU ARE READING
The Other Side: BloodLust (2p Hetalia x reader)
FanfictionThis is a story about (y/n) (l/n). They were pretty much as far from normal as can be. They don't age for mysterious reasons and is close friends with the 1p world countries. Pretty much they are considered to be family to you. But what will h...
