(A.N. Happy Halloween everyone! So, I've been watching Supernatural and Crossroad Blues plus my current obsession with the Sweet Devil AU for Hetalia... well, you can see where this is going. My OC isn't really important and she isn't based on any country. On a side note, if you would like me to expand on any of these little drabbles/ficlets, let me know.)
I don't own Hetalia. If I did, well, you'd know. I'd have gloating rights forever! :)

New Orleans, Louisiana
1932
11:00 PM

Alfred Jones was in trouble. The Great Depression had hit two years ago and had lost his job about three months after that. He had decided to go down to New Orleans to see if they needed any help smuggling booze into the rest of the country (he had heard that there was money in that), and had ended up working in an underground bar in the French Quarter. It wasn't the sort of job he wanted to have or the sort of life he wanted to lead, but that's life for you. If you're desperate enough, you'll take anything. Alfred was just finishing his shift for bartending when a woman came up to him. She was dressed in a pale blue dress that accented her creamy brown skin. "Yes? Can I help you?" Alfred asked. His mother had always told him to be polite to a lady. "The question isn't can you help me, but can I help you." she replied, leaning closer to him across the bar. Intrigued, Alfred leaned closer on his end. "How would you be able to help me?" The woman smiled. "You have to really want it. Help comes to those who help themselves, you know." "I know." Alfred said, becoming somewhat impatient with the woman. She was dangling help in front of him without actually telling him what it was! "Bury this at the crossroads at midnight tonight and help will come. Do not open the bag or you will have the wrath of hell upon your shoulders." she said, passing him a medium-sized gris-gris bag. (A.N. gris-gris bags, for those who don't know, are sort of like a voodoo version of a rabbit's foot. They can be made of anything and everything, including grass, food, certain peppers, or bits of skin. A voodoo priestess has to appeal to the voodoo gods to bless the gris-gris, giving it magical powers. If you want to learn more about them, Google Marie Laveau) "When you have done that, read this paper out loud: say it like it's spelled." the woman continued, handing Alfred a half-sheet of paper. He looked at the sheet. It was covered in what looked like gibberish, but if the lady said reading that would help him, then he'd read he looked up to say thank you to the woman (or maybe ask her how she knew he needed help), she had vanished.
An hour later, Alfred was at a crossroads just outside the city limits with the paper and the gris-gris bag. He stood there for a few minutes, not sure what to do, but then thought 'Maybe I should bury the bag. I'm not sure, but it's not like I'll forget where it is in three minutes'. Alfred knelt down and started to dig a shallow hole in the middle of the crossroads. When he had scratched out a hole about six inches in diameter and three inches deep, Alfred carefully put the gris-gris into the hole and covered it up again. Standing up, he unfolded the paper and started to read. Immediately, the wind picked up. He paused for a second and the wind died down. Curious, Alfred continued reading and the wind started blowing again. As he reached the end of the paper, the wind had grown so strong that he practically had to shout the last few syllables.

There was a blast that knocked Alfred flat on his back and when he looked up again, there was a pair of shiny shoes right in front of his nose. Slowly, he pushed himself into a crouch and looked again. Yep, shiny black shoes; but when Alfred continued upward he saw black dress pants, starched white shirt, black jacket, and a thin red tie. The man leaned down and pulled Alfred up. He had almond-shaped emerald eyes and, probably through some unfortunate accident, two caterpillars fused to his forehead. They shifted slightly and Alfred realized that the caterpillars were actually gigantic eyebrows. Whoever he was, the stranger certainly had a strong grip. "Thank you." Alfred said, still somewhat in shock. "It was no trouble. Now, I believe you were in need of assistance?" the man asked in a smooth English accent. "Yes, but how did you know about that?" Alfred asked, still somewhat confused. "That doesn't matter at the moment. What is important is how much are you willing to give in order to get the help you want?" Alfred thought about it for a moment. He really didn't like how he was living at the moment, but there'd have to be a pretty good deal involved for him to agree. "Who are you?" he asked, stalling for time. "You wouldn't be able to pronounce my name as it is not of human origin, but you may call me Arthur." Alfred looked at Arthur at eye level. "What would I have to pay?" Alfred asked. Help was one thing, but Alfred liked to know what the price was before he promised anything. Arthur smirked and replied "Oh, nothing much. You wouldn't have to pay up front, anyway." Alfred smiled and shook Arthur's hand. "It sounds like we've got a deal. By the way, what did you mean 'not of human origin'? I mean, if it's not an English name, that's okay. I've got a friend called Antonio." Arthur shook Alfred's hand back and said something that sounded like a cross between a yowl and choking noises. "What the hell was that?" Alfred asked, jumping back a foot. "Never mind that now. Shall we?" Arthur said, gesturing back towards town. "Let's." Alfred replied and started to walk back towards his home. "You know, I think we'll get along swell."

(A.N. Really sorry it's so late, guys! I've had a lot of stuff on my mind lately, and well... yeah... Happy Halloween, everyone!)