Arthur woke with a start. He knew Francis was no longer holding him, but it was midnight. When he usually fed. But someone else's arms were around him, and they were carrying him away, while his arms and legs were bound. "Who the bloody hell are you?! Put me down!!" He shouted. The man just...growled at him.
"Stop struggling, and it will hurt less," said a Spanish accent.
"What the- who the hell are you?!" Arthur yelled, still attempting to escape the man's tight grip.
"I said, stop struggling!" His kidnapper yelled.
"Then tell me what the hell's going on!" Arthur shouted.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," the man said, coldly. Then, he threw Arthur into the back of a van, locking the door. His arms were behind his back, so it was in vain that he tried to break the bonds around his arms and legs.
He kept attempting to break free, until suddenly, the van stopped, and he was launched onto his side. Arthur was certain his lip was now busted, and his nose was bleeding, thanks to him looking for something to break free with. Nothing was broken though, thank God. The van doors were pulled open with superhuman strength.
What Arthur saw, once his eyes adjusted to the bright lights, was something very clearly not human. It had ears like a wolf, and the body hair too, but it carried itself like a man. Quickly, he realized that these were the Werewolves that had killed Francis's first love, Jeanne. He wondered if the hunters were nearby as well. "What the bloody hell do you want with m-" Arthur was cut short by a hit to the head, knocking him out cold.

When he re-awoke, he was tied to a chair in a dimly lit room. He looked around, trying to find out where he was. He saw dirty stone walls, and equally dirty stone floor, and random junk all around. Suddenly, the single door in the room opened wide, allowing a man with tan skin and hazel green eyes to walk in. "Hola, mi amigo," the man said. Arthur knew enough Spanish to know the man had just called him his friend.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but you and I are not friends," Arthur said harshly.
"I apologize. Both for us not being friends, and bringing you here. I fear it was the only way we'd be able to get to your vampire friend," the man said.
"What the hell do you want with Francis?!" Arthur growled, his green eyes glinting with danger.
"Lo siento, but that's for me to know, and you to find out, once again, mi amigo," the Spaniard said. Arthur glared at him.
"Antonio?" Called a rough, yet worried Italian accent. "Antonio, you bastard! Where the hell are you?"
The Spaniard in front of Arthur stiffened slightly. "L-Lovino, I'll be out in a little bit!" He shouted.
Arthur heard Lovino shout back, "Bastard. You better get out here soon, Roman is being an even bigger dick than usual!" He shouted.
"What did he do this time?!" Antonio shouted, opening the door, and running for the Italian man, Lovino, leaving Arthur alone. He looked around for a way to escape, but saw there was none. He was trapped with the men who smelt of Wolf.

Oh, where was that bloody French frog when he needed him?!