Arthur's: Greatest Food in Town (Hetalia Horror AU Oneshot) [Complete]

Arthur's: Greatest Food in Town

'Man, the weather really does suck in England...' Alfred thought as he walked through one of London's busy streets. Despite the rain, the blonde American was excited to be in a new country. Travel was his favorite part of being an international food critic. Alfred was very passionate about food; all of the flavors, the preparation. But seeing so many different places definitely made the whole thing worthwhile.

It was a rare occasion on which Alfred took personal requests from restaurant owners; he usually got his assignments through the company. This process was easier, and took less time. However, the letter he had received was enough to catch his interest.

Dear Mr. Jones,

It is well known that you are a food critic, and I have heard you are very good at your job. I have an eatery in London, England, and I am hoping you will take the time to come visit. Many critics in the past have been negative in their reviews, but I know you will be different. Yes, I know you will. Please come. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU COME VERY IMPORTANT VERY IMPORTANT.

Thank You,

Arthur Kirkland

On the back on the soiled napkin, an address was printed with handwriting worse than the ramblings on the other side. As Alfred walked, he fumbled with the cloth and hoped he would find the place. The American was proud of himself for going against his natural instincts, and his boss's orders, to take this job. He wanted to prove that it was worth it.

~~~~~

The front of the building read Arthur's: Greatest Food in Town. The dark rain clouds casted an eerie shadow over the boarded up windows and molting exterior. A lump caught in Alfred's throat as he stood on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

'It looks...closed,' He thought, trying to spot any sign of light coming from the inside. He couldn't bring himself to get any closer to the building, an unsettling feeling washing over him at just the aura given off by this place. With the napkin in his hand, he checked the address one more time, noticing that the sender of the message was, in fact, named Arthur.

"AHHH!" the critic jumped about ten feet at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.

A crisp voice hissed into his ear. "Don't go in there if you value your life....many enter, but none return..."

Alfred was trembling by the time he turned and found no one behind him. The bony hand was gone and the voice had silenced.

It took him a few minutes to convince himself that the sensations he just experienced were of his imagination, caused by his intense feeling of dread about entering this eatery. Once his breath was steady, he began to walk forward. The door was left unbarred, so he put his hand to the knob and gave it a slow turn. The hinges creaked as the entrance came open and Alfred peered inside.

"Hello...? Is anyone there??" He squinted against the dark, finding that only one flickering lamp illuminated the seating area of the restaurant.

A crash from a distant corner made him shriek and back up towards the door. "No way, dude, this was a bad idea! Bad idea! Bad idea!" Alfred was prepared to make a run for it when a figure emerged from his pitch black surroundings.

"I-it's okay, you're alright!" A British accent piped up as Alfred was able to make out the person in front of him. The figure was a man, whose hair was unkempt and eyes were wide and bloodshot. He wore a stained apron over a slim green shirt, accompanying a pair of black dress pants. Everything about him seemed....off. This must have been Arthur.