2p America x Reader

______' s point of view:

Panting, I look behind myself. Maybe he hasn't caught up yet. Maybe I can still live. But no, life just has to be a bitch.

Alfred's red eyes glower at me from the opposite end of the corridor. A blood lust fills them, driving away any sanity he has left. "Thought ya' could escape me hun?" His voice is sickly sweet. Like this is a game. A sick, twisted game. I can feel the fear bubbling in me, rising like yeast.

He stalks closer to my frozen form, a psychotic smirk on his face. "Time for a little fun, ______~" Alfred purrs, pulling out his nail studded baseball bat. My teary (e/c) eyes widen in dread. So this is how I die. By my own lovers hand - well, baseball bat really -.

He finally reaches me, and I'm just about ready to faint. I shed a single tear, feeling it streak down my smooth face.

"Good night." With those two words Alfred begins to beat me with the bat, the nails tearing slivers of skin away. Blood gushes from the wounds, flowing onto the mahogany floor boards.

Alfred's point of view:

I suck in a large breath, heaving my bat up for the last time; I hurl it downwards, awaiting the familiar crack of bones shattering. "Al....." my victim groans with her last breath. Odd, she knew my name. Dusting myself off I leave her body, _________'ll clean it up later.

_________.

A strangled cry tears from my lips as I realise. I just murdered my love. The blood lust- who am I kidding- I finally got myself. I just couldn't handle love. It made me happy.

Too happy.

So I decided to fix that. Happiness kept me from murder.

Tears began to leak down my sun tanned skin. How could I murder her so, well, unconsciously?! I wasn't even aware. But she was.

She must've thought I was a monster. A monster who makes their victims love them, then just kills them. "Why, god, why?" I moan towards the heavens. Like God would answer. He doesn't give a fuck about me , a murderer. And why should he?

Grabbing my phone I hit speed dial. "Yes~?" Oliver's carefree voice wafts through my receiver. " I k-killed her, Oliver, killed" I sob, I can hear him pause, slowly understanding. "I'll be right over" He sighs.

* m(。≧Д≦。)m badass timeskip seven years into the future m(°»€«°)m*

Reincarnated _______'s point of view:

"_______?" I hear my mother call from the doorstep, frantically looking for me. I feel slightly guilty, but it's the day when He visits the graveyard. He has brown hair, lovely sun kissed skin, and wears shades all the time.

I don't know who he is, but he always seems really sad.

He always visits this pretty grave with a heart carved on it. The lady the grave belongs to has the same name as me. It says she died at only twenty, I wonder how....

"Hi _______" the handsome man smiles grimly, tears leaking down his face. "How's it going up in heaven? Sucks down here without you..." He weeps.

A odd urge to hug him overtakes me, hug him and say 'It's alright Alfred, I love you" Ridiculous, right? I doubt that's even his name, and I don't even know him.

I shift feet, ignoring the urge. "Hello?" The man asks, looking in my general direction. Shyly, I step out. "Sorry..." I mumble, looking at my feet. "It's okay..." He says, drying his tears.

" I'm Al, Alfred Jones..." Al offers me a hand. "(Please insert full name)" I hum, shaking his hand.

Alfred's point of view:

_______, huh? Maybe God does care.......