England X Dead! Reader - Resurrection

6. Blood

***WARNING***
Scenes of self-harm and blood

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Arthur knew that now that his two friends had paid him a visit, he wouldn't have much time before they'd plotted against him to stop him from completing his goal. They weren't stupid, and there was no way they were going to let him just go through with this, since they knew how dangerous it was—Arthur didn't care, he was going to go through with it despite the risks.

He didn't need much else, only one more thing to cross off of his list before he had everything he needed, and that thing was blood.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to leave the house to get what he needed, Alfred refused to let him out of the house, and as much as Arthur tried, there was no way he was going to get past him. He couldn't use magic to get out of the house, as every time he tried, it just didn't work. He couldn't summon enough energy to cast the simplest of spells, and he suspected that Lukas and Vlad were to blame.

Luckily, Arthur had everything he needed to attain his last ingredient with him. If he couldn't use the blood of an animal, he could always use his own.

He didn't need so much blood that it would kill him, but enough to definitely make him feel woozy, or so he thought. More importantly, he needed a place to go where Alfred wouldn't bother him. He made his way downstairs, after hours spent up in his room with the curtains closed. The bright ceiling light hurt his eyes, and he could hear the TV playing from the front room. It was still early evening, so of course Alfred would still be awake playing video games.

Arthur heard the TV's music pause for a minute, and then the shuffling of footsteps. Alfred poked his head out from the living room door, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Arthur, I already told you, I'm not going to let you leav—" before he could finish his sentence, Arthur cut him off.

"I know, I wasn't going outside," he remarked bluntly, and Alfred shot him a confused look.

"Then where are you going?" He questioned, and Arthur gave him the most innocuous look he could.

"Just the basement, I want to think for a bit," he tried to seem as innocent as he could, making it out as if he just needed some thinking time alone. Alfred seemed to believe him, as his suspicious expression settled into a soft look.

"I guess that's okay?" He said, almost as if he were questioning his answer himself. "Your basement's empty anyway, I guess it can't hurt." Arthur gave him the smallest smile at his words, yet Alfred didn't have enough time to see the lie behind it.

"Good," Arthur hummed, before walking down the next set of stairs, and into the basement. It was empty just like Alfred had said, except for a few old boxes and containers stacked on the small shelves against the walls. Luckily, that was all that Arthur needed, along with the small pocket blade he had hidden up his sleeve. He let it fall into his hands, and he grabbed a glass jar that sat on one of the shelves. It was dusty, but it would do.

He was going to have to use his own blood, keep it in a jar, and then when the time came, he'd be able to use it in his ritual to bring back (F/N). Arthur placed the jar on the floor and knelt beside it, holding his wrist perfectly above it. He wasn't afraid of the pain that'd come from cutting his wrist to get the blood, but he knew he had to be careful not to cut too deep. If he were to cut a vein and die, it'd all be over.

He willed his hands to stop shaking, and for his breathing to even out, and he made a cut. It stung, and blood began to seep out of wound. Arthur smiled darkly, watching as the jar began to slowly fill with blood, but it wasn't long before it slowed to a stop.

It wasn't deep enough.

Arthur scowled, taking his knife again, and making another cut underneath the one he already had, this time he put more pressure on the knife. It stung again, this time worse than the last, but just as he'd hoped, more blood poured out of the wound. If he could just fill this jar, he'd be fine.

By the time the jar was half full, Arthur's head was pounding, and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He made another cut, a deeper cut, completely loosing reason, and just willing that he stayed conscious. He was doing this for (F/N), he was going to get her back, and to do that, he needed the fill the jar with blood.

More of the red liquid splashed into the jar, and Arthur stumbled forward, catching himself before he could knock over all the blood he'd collected so far. His mind was hazy, his heart was pounding, and his head hurt like hell. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he forced his eyes to stay open—to stay open for her.

Another cut, this time on the other wrist, and the jar was full to the brim with deep, red blood. Arthur smiled in relief, but his smile almost looked twisted—like that of an insane man. He laughed louder than he meant to as he gazed at the blood in the jar, and he put the lid on it, restricting any of the precious liquid from escaping. He was aware of the blood he was still loosing, and tried to press his free hand to the cuts, but all he did was get more blood on his hands.

"Arthur? Are you okay? I heard weird noises coming from here..." Arthur snapped his head towards the door—Alfred. He took action quickly, and he shoved the jar away on a shelf, behind many others, hoping it'd stay safe there. He could see that the floor was now covered in blood, and he realised he'd cut too deep and too many times.

His head was pounding, his mind was buzzing, his body was collapsing—he was dying, and he was scared. He fell to the floor, watching as blood pooled from his wrists. He could hear Alfred shouting his name, but he was barely registering it. His vision was going white, and the only thing he could think of was the word 'no'.

No, he hadn't enough time. No, he couldn't die without even achieving his goal. No, he wasn't going to be able to anything to bring (F/N) back if he was dead.

Someone grabbed him, but his mind was already fuzzy enough, and he eyes were closing quickly. He didn't want to die right now, he still had a job to do.

Everything went white.

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Hope you guys didn't get the wrong idea with the self-harm warning! I've read that the body can loose up to 2.5 litres of blood out of the 5 litres have in our body, but it causes someone to pass out and likely enter comatose, shortly followed by death. Luckily, Arthur hasn't lost 2.5 litres, he's only lost about 2, which isn't enough to kill you if you get help quickly!
Also sorry if I haven't checked this over for spelling mistakes, my car was just smashed in and I didn't have time to check this over ;;