The Mind of Sir Arthur Kirkland (a hetalia fanfiction)

[3]

(some kind of warning maybe idk just keep reading)

[Alternatively Titled: In Which We Have A Woman Lying In Arthur's Basement For Some Odd Reason, or In Which Arthur Freaks Out]

Arthur woke up standing. An odd way to wake up indeed, but if you were never sleeping in the first place, how can you wake up?

So in that way Arthur didn't quite wake up, more like he snapped out of a daze. Then he realized that there was in fact a human kidney in his hands.

Fresh.

Now, like everyone else in the world, if you had a fresh, bloody, human kidney in your hands, you would probably have the reflex to vomit as soon as you saw the kidney. Yet, Arthur did not.

In fact, he continued to bite into the organ, savoring it's flavor. He didn't even know that he was doing it, as if it were human nature. And he didn't stop.

He finally snapped awake from his trance when he caught himself licking his bloodied fingers. He finally realized what he had just done. He had eaten someones kidney. He must have killed someone, dissected them, and taken out their kidney, and maybe, probably even more organs.

He fell to the floor, staring at his hands, finding it hard to breathe.

The panic was starting to set in. What happened? What was he doing? What had he done? Who even was he anymore?

He got up, and stopped. He had to be calm. His nails were caked with dried blood, and his usually pristine clothes were spotted with red and brown.

He was in his basement, he realized. In the heat of the moment he hadn't recognized the room.

But from the stairs down there was a small trail of blood. His eyes followed the splotches to the body of a young woman at the far edge of the room, near some bookshelves.

Arthur ran to her, and knelt at her side. She was still breathing, barely, but there was a large wound on the back of her torso. Arthur finally turned away and threw up.(a good thing too, because raw meat isn't that beneficial to your health)

"Oh miss I am so sorry, so sorry, sorry sorry please... Please." He quickly said. She turned her head, so he could see where her right eye had been removed.

"Y-you... You..." She gasped.

"I can help you, just... I have to get the kit, please just..." He said getting up, realizing she was still breathing.

"NO! YOU DID THIS! YOU CAN'T HELP ME!" She whisper-yelled.

"No...no! No no no... I-" he stopped trying to deny it. "Y-you're right. I did. I'm so sorry, so so sorry." By now he was in tears.

"But I c-can help you, I can..." he said. He felt in his back pocket. And sure enough, the switchblade from his dreams was there. He took it, and plunged it into her, putting her out of her pain.

It was real. Everything he had done in the dreams, he had done in real life. All those people he had made trust him, all the people he then killed mercilessly, all the horrible things, such horrible things.

He collapsed to the floor, head in his bloodied hands, wetting them with his tears. The faces of the people he had murdered flashed in his mind, their smiling faces that then turned into pained, frightened expressions.

Then a terrible thought came into his mind. The bodies, what had he done with them? He didn't leave them in the alleys, he dreams would always end with him dragging away the corpse.

He ran up the stairs, and flung open the door to the freezer. Blocks of frozen meat wrapped in white paper were all over. Some labled "Liver of cow" or "pork bacon" some "chicken breast". But he knew what was really in there.

And in the way back of the fridge, where no one ever looks, were three mason jars of crimson. He was horrified at the sight, and at the same time not surprised. He had been expecting it, to be honest.

"I am insane." He said to himself, gaping at the sight of everything.
"Truly insane."

His eyes were now dry, his hands now clean, his clothes no longer blood-stained. The shocks had passed, and he came to a conclusion: he is a murderer, and he was fine with it. The rush that came from it, the feeling of exhilaration when he pierced the skin of that girl. He loved it.

But what to do about the body? He supposed he could throw it in the Thames, it was quite popular in the Victorian days, it was practically filled to the brim with corpses; but technology was far too advanced, back then no one even bothered to investigate.

So he decided to try his hand at filleting. His subconscious seemed to do it alright, so he could probably do it awake. And he sure did.

He went back down the stairs and went to town on her. Draining the blood, cutting the muscle, removing the organs with seemingly surgical precision. All were intact, even the second kidney, which meant that she had died from blood loss from a shoddy removal of the first kidney. It was all too fun.

----
That night, when he went to sleep, he slept peacefully. All the night he slept in his bed, not once getting up. There was no reason to, as his mind had become broken.