Re: Hollywood Horror 9/?
anonymous
July 3 2009, 19:45:45 UTC
“He”, Ludwig pointed to Alfred, “has to go, though.”
“But-“
“No buts, Italy”
“But-“
“None from you either, America. You have your own room which you are free to use however you wish. Please-“
“But I lost my key!”, parried Alfred, making up excuses on the spot.
“You lost…mien gott, alright. You can stay here while I find you a spare.”
“Wait, you’re not going to leave me here, are you?”, squeaked Alfred, eyes widening.
“You are welcome to come with me, if you so wish”, deadpanned the German, moving into the dark hallway.
“N-no, that’s ok. I’ll just stay here then”, replied Arthur, lowering himself shakily onto the room’s only chair.
“As you wish. Just… don’t touch anything.” And with a final look at his immaculate and neatly organized desk, Ludwig disappeared into the hallway, Feliciano bouncing after him with happy ~ve,ve~ sounds.
The door slammed shut behind them and Alfred was once again alone.
Swallowing loudly, he looked around the room. It was neat. Too neat. The way everything was perfectly arranged, the way the bed was tidily tucked in, the way the papers lay in careful piles, everything was uncannily eerie. Swallowing again, Alfred drew in a shaky breath and retrieved his piece of chalk.
One circle.
Two.
Sitting cross-legged, Alfred began to hum his national anthem quietly, feeling a little stronger for it.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Finally, America heard footsteps outside of the door. Just as he got up to explain that there was no way he could go back to his room even with a key because fairies had occupied it - the one thing he had learned early on is that no one argued with the fairy excuse except Francis and him - when a loud knocking was heard from the door.
Re: Hollywood Horror 10/?
anonymous
July 3 2009, 19:49:47 UTC
“Br---- ope----door---ould----got----you“, came the muffled yell from behind the wood.
Nope, not Ludwig. Alfred shivered and inched away from the door, looking around desperately.
The only window in the room was too small for him to crawl through. There was nowhere for him to hide in the perfect orderliness of the place; he wouldn’t fit under the bed, and if the ~thing~ didn’t kill him, Ludwig would if he went into the closet.
“Open----damn d-----come he-----dead-------”
It just said dead, didn’t it?
“-----swear I’ll kill ------ open------“
Alright, time for drastic measures. If the thing was coming to kill him, he wouldn’t go down without a fight! He was a hero, after all!
The self-proclaimed hero crept towards the door, flashlight shaking and teeth chattering.
Alright. He could do this.
He could do this.
Three. Reach for the lock.
Two. Undo the latch.
One. Grab the knob.
Zero.
With a yell of “Let’s Rock and Roll, Monster!”, Alfred burst out of the room, slamming the thing with the door in the process. Looking down, he saw a head of white hair, blood red eyes and… Holy Heroes! It still had the blood of its previous victims on its face!
With a short -eek!-, Alfred decided that hitting it while it was down was a decidedly un-heroic thing to do, and instead chose to dash off down the hallway, running as fast as he could without really seeing where he was going. Soon, he was sprawled in the hallway on top of a very angry Switzerland.
**
“~ve, Ludwig?”
“Vat is it?”
“Where did Alfred go?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully, to bunk with someone else.”
“Does he not like us, Ludwig?”
The German sighed and turned to pat Feliciano on the head awkwardly “Of course he… likes you, don’t worry. He’s probably just had another crazy idea and went off to get himself arrested for it. Don’t worry, they’ll bring him back here eventually.”
-BAM BAM-
“~ve~, Ludwig, I think someone’s knocking.”
Germany marched over and opened the door to reveal one very angry Gilbert Wielschmidt, wiping blood from his nose.
___ Aww, I just had to include Prussia in this. He's so awesome :3 This is also turning out much longer than planned. Oops.
Re: Hollywood Horror 11/?
anonymous
July 3 2009, 19:55:06 UTC
“Bruder? Vat happened?”
“I don’t know West, you tell me what happened. I was knocking at your door, and suddenly someone runs out, RUNS ME OVER, and sprints off down the hallway.”
Prussia sniffed, trying to stop the blood-flow, as Feliciano ran up with a hug.
“I don’t want a hug, dammit. I want a tissue and the head of whoever that was! Just because I don’t have any land at the moment, everyone thinks they can treat me like this!”
“~ve~, I’m sure he didn’t mean it!”, stated Feliciano brightly, offering a white flag. Prussia grabbed it and tilted back his head, wiping his face off roughly.
“You are still a country, Bruder”, Ludwig suggested softly, knowing that this was a sore point for the older man.
“Of course you are!”, smiled Feliciano. “Did you want to show us a game? I love games!”
“Oh, it’s an awesome game! You’re gonna love it! Come on over to Kiku’s, he’s gotten this whole system set up in his room over these freaky circle symbols or something”, grinned Prussia, all anger forgotten but cloth still covering his nose.
“Kind of like these?”, asked Ludwig suddenly, pointing to the floor.
Sure enough, there were two chalk circles drawn on the wood, with various unintelligible writings between them.
“Yeah, exactly like those. I guess that’s just the design of this place or something. Anyways, hurry up!”
Prussia sauntered out into the hallway, Italy running after him before returning to grab Ludwig’s hand and pull the German along. Oh well. He’ll have to ask America about those circles later. There was just one thing he wanted to know.
“Bruder?”
“Yeah?”
“Vat exactly did you yell at the door?”
“I didn’t yell.”
“You always yell.”
“Why do you need to know?”
“Just tell me.”
“Alright, alright. I think I said something like ‘Bruder, open this door, would you? Kiku’s got this awesome game I wanna show you. Open the damn door already! Come here! What, are you dead in there or something? I swear, it’s so awesome, I’ll kill you at it! Come on, open the door!’”
“…”
“So why did you need to know?”
“…”
“West…”
“Just checking for amnesia. You did get hit on the head pretty hard.”
“What?! You think some flimsy little hit like that can hurt me?!”
“~Ve~, hurry up!”
Ludwig followed Feliciano and his brother down the hallway, wondering what, apart from a crazy idea, could have possessed America to rush out like that. His brother could be quite frightening, especially around Austria, but the Prussian man seemed quite harmless today.
___
Anon apologizes if the three german words she did use, she got wrong. Anon knows no German, even if she wishes she did.
Re: Hollywood Horror 12/?
anonymous
July 3 2009, 21:27:16 UTC
THE SECOND NIGHT (Continued)
Meanwhile, America lay on top of a winded Switzerland.
Lay being an overstatement, considering that he was promptly kicked off. America blinked from the floor at the gun pointed at his nose.
“What do you think you’re doing”, growled the man standing above him, grip on the pistol tightening. It was a simple M57 automatic assault rifle, nothing fancy, but still guaranteed to blow his head off at such a close range. He wouldn’t die from it, of course, but it would hurt like hell, and Texas would be complaining for years.
“H-Hey there, Switzerland!”
“What do you think you’re doing?”, repeated the country, scowling.
“I was just running, see. Going for an evening jog?”
The green-eyed man raised his eyebrows.
“Hey, we haven’t hung out in a while, right? How about we catch up. Talk a little?”. Alfred gave a weak laugh, plastering his dazzling smile onto his face. His eyes were crossing from looking down the barrel.
Finally, the pistol was withdrawn.
“Is there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Erm…I was… I was thinking about replacing the M4’s in my army with something… you know, a little newer. You like guns, right? Any suggestions?”, tried Alfred.
Apparently, he’d chosen a good topic, because the other man’s eyes lit up and soon they were chatting about the benefits of the SIG 556 (Switzerland was proud of that one) and what they might mean for Alfred’s designs for the Bushmaster ACR.
A few hours later, Alfred felt considerably braver, waving good-night to Switzerland who had said in no uncertain terms that if America tried to follow him into his room, he’d be full of holes. Still, he had lent Alfred his SG 553, which was almost guaranteed to keep him safe, right?
With that thought in mind, America walked down the hallway, vowing to drive whatever unholy forces occupied his room out.
Just as he rounded a corner, something crashed into him. Alfred screamed, whoever he had crashed into screamed and America recognized Spain, dripping red all over the floor.
“Antonio! It got you too?!”, yelled Alfred, making to grab the other man in a fireman’s lift and carry him to safety. There was no way he was going to let it eat anyone else, no matter how scared he was.
The Spanish man just gave him a strange look before rushing back into the darkness with a cry of “¡basta ya!, Lovi, ya me dispulpé.”
There were a few seconds of silence before a high pitched scream resounded from the same direction.
Alfred guessed it was too late for Antonio, shivering and running back the way he came. All he could see on either side of him were closed doors, looming darkly. The scream still ringing in his ears, he feverishly drew a circle on the ground, sitting himself in the middle.
A few minutes later, he drew another, a little to the left. Then another, making a short path for himself. As long as he stayed in the circles, he would be safe, right?
Teeth chattering, Alfred scraped the chalk along the floor, repeating the same motion over and over and over again.
***
Down the hallway, Antonio lay doubled over on the ground, clutching at his vital regions.
“Serves you right, you tomato bastard!”, yelled Lovino, launching another tomato at the man.
“I-It was an accident, I swear”, gasped the Spanish man, blinking away tears and tomato juice.
“You stupid liar! Don’t think I don’t know you did it on purpose!”
“Lovi-“
“You are NEVER, EVER to touch my hair, you understand that you stupid-“
“I didn’t do it on purpose, Lovi! I was just trying to hug you, you looked so cute-“
“Don’t call me cute, you flamenco freak! How dare you go in my room anyways-“
“But Lovino, your room is the one across, that one was mi-“
“I KNOW who’s room is whose, don’t you dare argue with me!”. And with that, Lovino launched another tomato at the poor Spaniard.
Re: Hollywood Horror 13/?
anonymous
July 3 2009, 23:37:04 UTC
THE SECOND DAY
Morning dawned once again on the quaint little inn hosting the congress. Birds were singing, Lovino had stopped yelling, and Feliciano was happily playing hopscotch with the multitude of circles decorating the floor.
“Mein Gott, vat is all this?”, asked a horrified Ludwig, staring at the chalk drawings covering the floor and walls. Circles, dozens of them, along with crosses, stars, something that looked like a totem pole, and illegible symbols which he supposed were writings graced the wooden planks, white dust covering what little space was left - how was he going to explain all this to Francis?
Speaking of the Frenchman, he still hadn’t returned; Ludwig wondered if he should send out a search party.
“This- this is quite unusual, Ludwig-kun”, intoned Japan, having stepped out of his room to come face to face with the white dusty spectacle.
“I’ll tell you what it is; it’s damn freaky!”, came from the end of the hallway, where Lovino was dragging a sleepy and soaking wet Spain to the conference room. The older man’s white shirt was stained dull red in some places, despite obvious efforts to wash the colour out. It also smelled faintly of tomatoes.
“~ve~, Ludwig, where did all the pretty circles come from?”
“I am thinkink that I saw America draw some of these.”
The nations whirled around to see a slightly less haggard Russia; on one hand, he wasn’t bleeding anymore, but on the other, the bags under his eyes seemed to say that he hadn’t slept a wink.
“I also believe that America is drawing these…symbols”, agreed Japan quietly.
“But why would he do that?”, asked Antonio from behind the older Italian.
“Perhaps… perhaps he has inherited it from someone, da?”, suggested Russia with a sweet smile.
“You don’t mean… he couldn’t have got it from England-san, could he?”
“I am only sayink that I have ever seen two people drawink circles like this, and we know who they are being.”, stated Ivan, shrugging his broad shoulders. “But if you are wanting, I vill go and ask America about his new… hobby.”
With that, Ivan turned around and limped down the hallway, coat rustling behind him.
“He still has the marriage registration form stapled to his back”, noted Spain sleepily.
___________
I really didn't know whether to split this bit; in the end I did, so this part is quite short. Now we sort of know what happened to Ivan. At least, I hope I made it obvious enough ;P
Re: Hollywood Horror 14/?
anonymous
July 3 2009, 23:39:39 UTC
Matthew found Alfred in the conference room, coming early to get the seat that was not next to Ivan. He nearly jumped in surprise upon seeing his brother, white as a ghost, rummaging around the blackboard.
Matthew forgot to pout at that, fascinated by the chalky substance that seemed to cover every inch of his brother.
“Al, what happened to you?”
“Nothing, yet.”
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s no chalk. It was here before, we left it here, remember? And now it’s gone!”
Canada looked around, and, indeed, there was no chalk in sight.
“That’s ok, Al. We can use erasable pens, right? We have a whiteboard in the storage room, so-“
“No, it’s not ok! It’s not ok, Mattie. It’s not ok because first it was the stilettos, and then Francis went missing, and then it was the ghost and IT WAS WEARING THE CROSS, MATTIE, the black cross and it looked at me with its red eyes and-“
“Al”, Matthew interrupted weakly, “Al, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What stilettos?”
“France’s stilettos. And then the ghost with the blood that was going to kill me-“
“France doesn’t wear stilettos, Al”, chuckled Mat weakly. At least he thought Francis didn’t. “And there are no ghosts here. Honestly. The only person who wears a cross is Prussia, but he’s quite alive, I can assure you-“
“No, it was a ghost! Or maybe it was the viy, and, oh god, I looked at it, I looked right at it and now it can see me and-“
“Al, calm down!”, Matthew grabbed his brother’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “L-let’s go get you something to eat, eh? I’ll make you some pancakes; the ones you like, with the maple syrup.”
“No, no, no, I gotta find the chalk, or else-“
“We’ll find it later, ok? Let’s just get you cleaned up.”
Gently, Matthew led Alfred out of the conference room, Kumajirou padding softly behind them.
_____ Wohoo, last part for today, featuring Matthew. Soon...soon, it'll be your turn, Arthur *chuckles menacingly*
Re: Hollywood Horror 15/?
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:09:38 UTC
Thank you, reviewer!anon. :) You made me want to keep writting *offers internet cookies*
_____________________
“~ve~, when is Russia going to come back?”, asked Italy, for the third time that hour.
Most of the nations had gathered in the conference room; however, a number of seats were left unfilled. Ivan still hadn’t returned, and no one had seen Francis since two days ago. Curiously, China was also nowhere in sight, and, most notably, Alfred was missing along with his brother.
“Just how many people are we missing?”, growled Romano in annoyance, surveying the small group present.
“Five, when I go wake England”, smiled Spain, shivering in his wet clothes.
The tan nation didn’t have far to go; England’s room was just across the hallway from the conference room. Knocking lightly on the door, the Spaniard soon met with the sight of a sleepy, half-dressed England muttering about his broken alarm and blushing.
“Buena mañana”, smiled Antonio, “May I perhaps borrow some clothes?”
“Wot?”
Apparently, Arthur wasn’t quite awake yet.
“May I perhaps borrow some clothes?”, Spain repeated, slowly this time.
“Clothes? Oh, sure, help yourself. Good morning t- what the bloody hell is this?!” Arthur stepped out of his room to find himself surrounded by chalk caricatures and white dust.
“We were hoping you’d tell us”, said Ludwig, walking out of the conference room.
“Why would I know-… oh, please don’t tell me that insufferable git did it!”
“Which git are you referring to?”, asked Spain, pulling a dry shirt over his head.
“America, of course. Francis would have more taste than ~this~”
“We do indeed believe that it was America-san’s doing.”
“Have you two been… talking lately?”, asked Germany awkwardly.
“Talking? Unless you mean him stealing my torch, no, we haven’t- Good God, you don’t think I ~told~ him to do this, do you?”, scoffed Arthur.
“Well, he has spent more time with you than anybody else”, deadpanned Switzerland, “And it wouldn’t be surprising for him to pick up some habits…”
“Habits?! So are you saying this…lunacy” - Arthur motioned to the hallway with a look of disgust - “… is actually ~my fault~?! Because I ~taught him~ how to … graffiti the walls?”
“We’re not trying to lay the blame on you, Arthur”, Spain hastened to say. “We’re just curious about where he could’ve gotten these ideas from. You ~have~ drawn magic circles before…”
“Yes, and I summoned ~Russia~ of all people. I don’t think America particularly wants to summon him, somehow.”, snapped Arthur.
“~ve~, when is Russia coming back?”
“Why don’t you think Braginski did it? Probably thought it was funny too”, Arthur continued, raising his massive eyebrows.
“Russia is another case altogether”, sighed Ludwig, ignoring Romano’s mutter of “yeah, a nutcase”.
“I’m sure Braginski will be back soon. Those of us who are here should proceed to the conference room. It’s time to start the meeting, despite our low numbers. And if anyone sees America, tell him I’d like to have a chat”, continued the German, throwing one last pained look at the hallway.
Re: Hollywood Horror 16/?
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:10:56 UTC
Alfred wandered down the hallway, evening light slowly fading away. He’d spent the day with Mat, allowing himself to be cleaned and fed. Everything had been going well, until Matthew left to check on the conference, and came back saying that Yao and Ivan weren’t there.
And when Alfred tried to tell him that It had gotten them, and they had to get out of here, because they were next, Matthew had just shushed him and fed him poutine and iced tea and let him hold Kumajirou until he felt better (which he didn’t, the fur just made him sneeze like mad).
Finally, Alfred sneaked out while Mat was making Mac and Cheese, creeping toward the conference room, because there HAD to be chalk somewhere, right?
But alas, the room was completely chalk-free, except for the circles drawn on the floor. Alfred made sure to stay in those as much as possible. Just as he opened the door to leave, the door across the hall also opened, and he nearly jumped out of his skin before recognizing a very irate England.
“Arthur! You’re ok!”
“No, I’m not ok, you wanker.”
“What’s the matter, did It-“
“The ~matter~”, interrupted Arthur, “is that I’m getting blamed for your idiocy!”
“…What?”
“You heard me. Your redecoration of the hallway and rooms has me pinned as some crazy cultist who taught you… I don’t know what!“
“But you do talk to fairies…”
“Those are different!”
“Yeah, they don’t exist, unlike the Viy-“
“Yes, they do! They do too exist!”
“Arthur, I know you must get lonely sometimes, but imaginary friends are called ~imaginary~ for a reason...”
“They’re not imaginary! They’re real, unlike your… what was it… vie?”
“Viy. And it does too exist. Ivan told me, it can look into your soul and when it sees you all the demons-“
“Braginski did?!”, exclaimed Arthur. “I knew that loon was behind it all! He told you about these…demons?”
“Yes”, explained Alfred, happy that he was finally getting through to someone, “there’s this super demon, like a level boss, and if he sees you-“
“You don’t need to tell me the rest”, sighed Arthur. “I know that story, and I can assure you, I’ve never seen anything like the creature described”
“That’s because you die when you see it.”, explained Alfred patiently.
“Well, no, you actually don’t according to the tale, you’re confusing it with a basilisk, but - oh, Alfred, you don’t actually ~believe~ Ivan, do you?”
“But I SAW it. It had these red eyes and blood and-“
“Alfred, you probably just imagined it.” Arthur’s voice took on a paternal tone. “Remember when you were a boy?”
America tensed slightly. It was always a little painful to think back to those times, when England had been his beloved father-brother, smiling at him with a warmth he’d probably never see again.
“You were always scared of the dark, weren’t you? Even if you didn’t like to show it.”, continued Arthur in a soft tone. “Remember what I used to tell you?”
Re: Hollywood Horror 17/?
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:11:35 UTC
“You said… you said you’d ask the fairies to watch over me”, muttered Alfred, looking at the ground.
“And I did. Alfred, if any harm is going to come to you, I will be the first to know. And I won’t let you get hurt. Not again.”, Arthur was almost whispering now, furious blush gracing his features.
“When I say there is nothing coming after you, no ghosts, no demons, I’m sure of it. You’re safe here, Al.”
Alfred shifted awkwardly and slowly nodded.
“So please, don’t draw any more crazy symbols, alright?”
Alfred nodded.
Arthur’s stern expression softened a little. “Now be a good boy and go to sleep”.
The Englishman held the door open for Alfred, patting him on the shoulder and trying to look reassuring. He had gotten through to him. Now-
“A-arthur…”
“What?”, asked Arthur, following Alfred’s panicked gaze to see a note pinned lying on the floor, facing his room.
On it were red letter, smeared a little, spelling YOU’RE NEXT.
“Oh God. Oh God.”
“Alfred, calm down, this is-“
“Arthur, we’ve gotta get out of here, your pixies were wrong, It ~is~ coming-“
“Alfred, this is probably just a-“
But Alfred had already dashed away towards the inn’s exit.
“-a joke”, finished Arthur lamely.
Staring into the dark hallway, he didn’t notice the shadows shift. The darkness moved, morphed. It drew closer, reaching out, brushing Arthur’s shoulder and-
“Wha- Francis? Where in the Queen’s name have you been, you git?!”
“Courteous as always, Angleterre. And here I was, arranging for the electricity in your room to be fixed”
“The electricity?”
“Oui. I even” - Francis pointed to the floor with a graceful flourish - “left you a note so that you’d know everything would be well soon”
“That’s your idea of a note? You stupid frog, who writes a note like that?”
Francis shrugged. “I did not have much to work with, so I used what I had.”
“What you had?”
“A napkin and some lipstick, Angleterre.”
“Why couldn’t you just ~tell~ me you were coming?”
Re: Hollywood Horror 18/?
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:13:07 UTC
Alfred sat shivering in a corner, staring forlornly at the front door. Although he didn’t know this, Ludwig had locked it earlier so as not to lose anyone else. To Alfred, however, it seemed like all the demons of hell were conspiring against him, keeping him here against his will.
Hugging his knees closer, he sat quietly and waited for ~It~ to come. Instead, a harried Canadian stumbled into the front hall, flashlight in hand and bear in tow.
“Alfred?”
“…”
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Alfred looked up to see the worried face of his brother and wondered if that’s what he looked like right now: face pale and eyes teary and hair curl drooping in exhaustion.
No way, he had to look cooler than that.
“Al, why did you run off?”, asked Matthew, annoyance flashing in his eyes now that the initial worry had passed. “I looked all over for you; I thought you were hurt!”
“Heroes don’t get hurt, Mattie”, answered Al quietly.
“Heroes don’t mope in the hallway either. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”, snapped Matthew. “You’re not going to sleep in the hallway, are you?”
“I’m not going to sleep”
“Do you even know what you look like? Any more ‘not sleeping’ and the bags under your eyes will smother New Jersey.”
“…”
“Alfred F. Jones, you get up right now!”, growled Matthew, pulling his arm urgently.
“Let me go”, protested Alfred feebly, staying where he was.
“Alfred…”
“…”
“Alright, you asked for it!”
And suddenly, Alfred’s world was turned upside down, Texas slipping down his nose. Readjusting the state, the found himself face to face with the back of a pair of jeans.
“Put me down, Mat!”, squeaked Alfred in indignation, recognizing the Canadian’s backside.
“No way”, answered Mat, readjusting the American slung over his shoulder a little and beginning to walk towards the rooms.
Now Alfred had his face buried in a soft hoodie. Better, but still totally un-heroic.
“Ma~at~”, Alfred whined, kicking and twisting a little, trying to get out of the Canadian’s grip.
“Ow! Would you stop that?! You’re difficult enough to carry as is, eh?”
“Put me down Mat!”
“Not until you stop being an idiot!”
And with that, Mat used his hip to prop open a door and carried the American into a cozy, warm room. The first thing Alfred noticed was the nightlight, shining brightly from beside the bed. The second was the hamburger-patterned sheets on the bed.
“Aww, you used the sheets I gave you!”
Matthew blushed and unceremoniously dumped his brother on the bed. Before Alfred had a chance to break for the door, Matthew used his weight to pin the other man’s legs to the bed by the simple method of sitting on them.
Re: Hollywood Horror 19/?
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:14:33 UTC
“Alright, Al, I thought we went over this. There are no ghosts in the hotel. Or demons. Or anything else for that matter, except us invited nations and maybe Natalia.”
“Natalia?”
“I saw her wandering the halls with a knife before. But you know how she is. She wouldn’t hurt you unless you got between her and Ivan. Which I hope you’re smart enough not to do?”
Alfred nodded.
“Oh, and there’s Prussia too. But he’s not a ghost. Not yet, anyways. So you really have nothing to be scared of.”
Alfred gave him a disbelieving look.
“Alright, you know the story that you mentioned? The one Ivan told you? Well, in that story, the curse only lasted for three nights, eh? So you just have to be ok tonight, and you won’t have to be scared anymore.”
Mat looked down at his brother with a pleading look.
“And what about tonight?”, muttered Alfred.
“Well…”, Matthew nibbled on his bottom lip in thought, curl bobbing quite adorably. “I suppose you could stay here tonight. Ok?”
Alfred was about to protest that the quiet Canadian wouldn’t be much help when fighting a monster, but the hopeful look Mat was giving him made him swallow the words.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d be okay here?
“A-Alright.”, muttered Alfred, smiling weakly at his brother. Matthew immediately broke into a grin and moved to sit beside Alfred. Ow. Ow, he could feel his legs again, now that the Canadian had gotten off, and the pinprick feeling was nasty.
“Just don’t try to run away, eh? Kumajirou will guard the door.”
“Heroes don’t run away.”, mumbled Alfred, kicking off his sneakers.
Matthew’s answer was muffled as he pulled off his hoodie. Grabbing the maple leaf patterned blanket from the foot of the bed, he covered both of them with it, pulling Alfred into a loose hug at the same time.
“…”
“…”
“…. Mat…”
“What?”
“That’s awkward.”
“…Shut up, eh?”
“…”
“…Mat?”
“What?!”
“You’re not gonna fall asleep before me, are you?”
Re: Hollywood Horror 20/?
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:16:07 UTC
Wednesday dawned in the Pyrenees, early summer breeze filtering into the room. Shivering, Alfred scooted closer to the warmth in front of him, snuggling closer until he felt it shift.
Wait, what?
Eyes snapping open, he was greeted by the sight of a sleeping Canadian, blonde hair tousled and breath steady, arms secured firmly around Al’s waist.
“…erm… Mat…”
Silence.
“Mat, wake up.”
The Canadian snuggled closer, giving a soft, sleepy whine.
“Mat, seriously. Wake up!”
Alfred reached up and gave Matthew a shake. Which had no effect. Alright, time for drastic measures.
Reaching for the Canadian’s curl, Alfred grasped tightly and gave it a sharp tug. This time, the Canadian’s eyes snapped open, as the boy sat up suddenly, confused and blushing like mad.
His brother was so strange sometimes, Al thought.
“You’re awake, finally! I was starting to get worried”, Alfred teased, free to move around now that Matthew had let go of him.
“Why’d you tug my hair?!”, the younger boy complained, sending him a sleepy glare, “I asked you not to do that!”
“You’re so weird, Mattie. It’s just hair.”
“Yeah, well, don’t, eh?”, the Canadian mumbled, looking away.
“Alright, alright. Anything you say, Mattie”, grinned Alfred.
“Do you want breakfast?”, asked Matthew, yawning and stretching.
“Are you going to make it?”
“…Sure, why not. Do you want pancakes?”
“Of course I do”
As Matthew crawled over to the nightstand to retrieve his glasses and Alfred didn’t stare at the mountains of British Columbia, he didn’t, because that was more awkward than the hug before, the American realized that today was the best he’d felt in a long time. He hadn’t been mauled, eaten or anything of the sort, and if what Mat said was true than he was safe now that three nights were past.
He was safe so… maybe Arthur was right about the fairies?
Naah.
“Hey, Mat, I’ll race you to the kitchen!”, laughed Alfred, already taking off towards the door, ignoring the cry of “No fair!” behind him.
Re: Hollywood Horror 21/21
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:19:00 UTC
WEDNESDAY
The door to the conference room slammed open and nine heads turned to see Natalia, clutching a piece of Ivan’s scarf and looking around the room with a predatory gleam in her eyes.
“Has anyone seen my brother?”, she inquired curtly, gaze roving over the room.
“Nope, sorry”, grinned America from his seat, giving her a hero smile. Arthur rolled his eyes and sipped his Earl Gray, exchanging an exasperated look with Ludwig.
“Very well then”. With a flutter of skirts, Natalia was gone.
A few minutes past.
“I think it’s safe to come out now.”, offered Canada.
With a lot of scuffling, Ivan emerged from underneath the table, exhaustion written on his face.
“So you actually stayed there for over a day?”, asked England incredulously, amusement evident in his tone.
“Next time, I vill be organizing guards and defence, da?”, answered Ivan darkly, taking a swing from his nearly empty vodka bottle and collapsing into a chair.
“That is quite the feat-aru!”
The nations all jumped in surprise and turned towards the door to see a smiling China walking in, Shinatty-chan cellphone in hand.
“Where exactly have you been?”, asked Ludwig tensely, massaging his temples.
“Me? I went to town to get another power cord- aru. Then I noticed there was no Chinatown for miles, which made me think about how nice it would be to have dumplings readily available-aru!”, grinned Yao, sauntering over to the table.
“And then…you went to another Chinatown?”, Francis inquired hopefully.
“Nope. I made one right there-aru!”, answered China happily, sliding a brochure across the table.
America smiled as Francis paled a little and picked up the piece of paper with the very tips of his fingers, considering the new attraction with a look of deep mistrust. England snickered, France glared back, and soon the two were in a heated argument over nothing. Ludwig moved to intervene, but found himself held back by the sleepy Italian draped across his lap. Romano started yelling at the German, barely restrained by a smiling Spain. Switzerland cocked his gun menacingly while China just stared.
Exchanging a smile with Mat, Alfred decided that things were exactly as they should be.
‘And the Hero lived happily ever after’, Al narrated in his head. ___________ Sorry for the lame ending, anon ran out of steam. Nevertheless, anon is done! *dances in glee* She will now prance off to find more requests to fill...tomorrow. Thank you, wonderful anon who commented. <3
Re: Hollywood Horror 21/21
anonymous
July 4 2009, 03:33:52 UTC
Reviewer!anon is sad to see that it's over, but I really really enjoyed the fill. It was funny, cute, and I loved all of the character interactions. I didn't think the ending was lame one bit. And I loved Matthew's and Alfred's brotherly interactions <3 They really do care about each other :D
...this anon was wondering if you'd de-anon with this fic so she can add it to her memories and easily link it to people who aren't fans of the kink meme? It's fine if you don't want to, though ♥
Also! “Do you even know what you look like? Any more ‘not sleeping’ and the bags under your eyes will smother New Jersey." How did you know I was a New Jersey!anon who would love a shout out to her state? XD
“But-“
“No buts, Italy”
“But-“
“None from you either, America. You have your own room which you are free to use however you wish. Please-“
“But I lost my key!”, parried Alfred, making up excuses on the spot.
“You lost…mien gott, alright. You can stay here while I find you a spare.”
“Wait, you’re not going to leave me here, are you?”, squeaked Alfred, eyes widening.
“You are welcome to come with me, if you so wish”, deadpanned the German, moving into the dark hallway.
“N-no, that’s ok. I’ll just stay here then”, replied Arthur, lowering himself shakily onto the room’s only chair.
“As you wish. Just… don’t touch anything.” And with a final look at his immaculate and neatly organized desk, Ludwig disappeared into the hallway, Feliciano bouncing after him with happy ~ve,ve~ sounds.
The door slammed shut behind them and Alfred was once again alone.
Swallowing loudly, he looked around the room. It was neat. Too neat. The way everything was perfectly arranged, the way the bed was tidily tucked in, the way the papers lay in careful piles, everything was uncannily eerie. Swallowing again, Alfred drew in a shaky breath and retrieved his piece of chalk.
One circle.
Two.
Sitting cross-legged, Alfred began to hum his national anthem quietly, feeling a little stronger for it.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Finally, America heard footsteps outside of the door. Just as he got up to explain that there was no way he could go back to his room even with a key because fairies had occupied it - the one thing he had learned early on is that no one argued with the fairy excuse except Francis and him - when a loud knocking was heard from the door.
Ludwig wouldn’t knock on his own door, would he?
Oh God.
It wasn’t Ludwig, was it?
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Nope, not Ludwig. Alfred shivered and inched away from the door, looking around desperately.
The only window in the room was too small for him to crawl through. There was nowhere for him to hide in the perfect orderliness of the place; he wouldn’t fit under the bed, and if the ~thing~ didn’t kill him, Ludwig would if he went into the closet.
“Open----damn d-----come he-----dead-------”
It just said dead, didn’t it?
“-----swear I’ll kill ------ open------“
Alright, time for drastic measures. If the thing was coming to kill him, he wouldn’t go down without a fight! He was a hero, after all!
The self-proclaimed hero crept towards the door, flashlight shaking and teeth chattering.
Alright. He could do this.
He could do this.
Three. Reach for the lock.
Two. Undo the latch.
One. Grab the knob.
Zero.
With a yell of “Let’s Rock and Roll, Monster!”, Alfred burst out of the room, slamming the thing with the door in the process. Looking down, he saw a head of white hair, blood red eyes and… Holy Heroes! It still had the blood of its previous victims on its face!
With a short -eek!-, Alfred decided that hitting it while it was down was a decidedly un-heroic thing to do, and instead chose to dash off down the hallway, running as fast as he could without really seeing where he was going. Soon, he was sprawled in the hallway on top of a very angry Switzerland.
**
“~ve, Ludwig?”
“Vat is it?”
“Where did Alfred go?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully, to bunk with someone else.”
“Does he not like us, Ludwig?”
The German sighed and turned to pat Feliciano on the head awkwardly “Of course he… likes you, don’t worry. He’s probably just had another crazy idea and went off to get himself arrested for it. Don’t worry, they’ll bring him back here eventually.”
-BAM BAM-
“~ve~, Ludwig, I think someone’s knocking.”
Germany marched over and opened the door to reveal one very angry Gilbert Wielschmidt, wiping blood from his nose.
___
Aww, I just had to include Prussia in this. He's so awesome :3
This is also turning out much longer than planned. Oops.
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“I don’t know West, you tell me what happened. I was knocking at your door, and suddenly someone runs out, RUNS ME OVER, and sprints off down the hallway.”
Prussia sniffed, trying to stop the blood-flow, as Feliciano ran up with a hug.
“I don’t want a hug, dammit. I want a tissue and the head of whoever that was! Just because I don’t have any land at the moment, everyone thinks they can treat me like this!”
“~ve~, I’m sure he didn’t mean it!”, stated Feliciano brightly, offering a white flag. Prussia grabbed it and tilted back his head, wiping his face off roughly.
“You are still a country, Bruder”, Ludwig suggested softly, knowing that this was a sore point for the older man.
“Of course you are!”, smiled Feliciano. “Did you want to show us a game? I love games!”
“Oh, it’s an awesome game! You’re gonna love it! Come on over to Kiku’s, he’s gotten this whole system set up in his room over these freaky circle symbols or something”, grinned Prussia, all anger forgotten but cloth still covering his nose.
“Kind of like these?”, asked Ludwig suddenly, pointing to the floor.
Sure enough, there were two chalk circles drawn on the wood, with various unintelligible writings between them.
“Yeah, exactly like those. I guess that’s just the design of this place or something. Anyways, hurry up!”
Prussia sauntered out into the hallway, Italy running after him before returning to grab Ludwig’s hand and pull the German along. Oh well. He’ll have to ask America about those circles later. There was just one thing he wanted to know.
“Bruder?”
“Yeah?”
“Vat exactly did you yell at the door?”
“I didn’t yell.”
“You always yell.”
“Why do you need to know?”
“Just tell me.”
“Alright, alright. I think I said something like ‘Bruder, open this door, would you? Kiku’s got this awesome game I wanna show you. Open the damn door already! Come here! What, are you dead in there or something? I swear, it’s so awesome, I’ll kill you at it! Come on, open the door!’”
“…”
“So why did you need to know?”
“…”
“West…”
“Just checking for amnesia. You did get hit on the head pretty hard.”
“What?! You think some flimsy little hit like that can hurt me?!”
“~Ve~, hurry up!”
Ludwig followed Feliciano and his brother down the hallway, wondering what, apart from a crazy idea, could have possessed America to rush out like that. His brother could be quite frightening, especially around Austria, but the Prussian man seemed quite harmless today.
___
Anon apologizes if the three german words she did use, she got wrong. Anon knows no German, even if she wishes she did.
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Meanwhile, America lay on top of a winded Switzerland.
Lay being an overstatement, considering that he was promptly kicked off. America blinked from the floor at the gun pointed at his nose.
“What do you think you’re doing”, growled the man standing above him, grip on the pistol tightening. It was a simple M57 automatic assault rifle, nothing fancy, but still guaranteed to blow his head off at such a close range. He wouldn’t die from it, of course, but it would hurt like hell, and Texas would be complaining for years.
“H-Hey there, Switzerland!”
“What do you think you’re doing?”, repeated the country, scowling.
“I was just running, see. Going for an evening jog?”
The green-eyed man raised his eyebrows.
“Hey, we haven’t hung out in a while, right? How about we catch up. Talk a little?”. Alfred gave a weak laugh, plastering his dazzling smile onto his face. His eyes were crossing from looking down the barrel.
Finally, the pistol was withdrawn.
“Is there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Erm…I was… I was thinking about replacing the M4’s in my army with something… you know, a little newer. You like guns, right? Any suggestions?”, tried Alfred.
Apparently, he’d chosen a good topic, because the other man’s eyes lit up and soon they were chatting about the benefits of the SIG 556 (Switzerland was proud of that one) and what they might mean for Alfred’s designs for the Bushmaster ACR.
A few hours later, Alfred felt considerably braver, waving good-night to Switzerland who had said in no uncertain terms that if America tried to follow him into his room, he’d be full of holes. Still, he had lent Alfred his SG 553, which was almost guaranteed to keep him safe, right?
With that thought in mind, America walked down the hallway, vowing to drive whatever unholy forces occupied his room out.
Just as he rounded a corner, something crashed into him. Alfred screamed, whoever he had crashed into screamed and America recognized Spain, dripping red all over the floor.
“Antonio! It got you too?!”, yelled Alfred, making to grab the other man in a fireman’s lift and carry him to safety. There was no way he was going to let it eat anyone else, no matter how scared he was.
The Spanish man just gave him a strange look before rushing back into the darkness with a cry of “¡basta ya!, Lovi, ya me dispulpé.”
There were a few seconds of silence before a high pitched scream resounded from the same direction.
Alfred guessed it was too late for Antonio, shivering and running back the way he came. All he could see on either side of him were closed doors, looming darkly. The scream still ringing in his ears, he feverishly drew a circle on the ground, sitting himself in the middle.
A few minutes later, he drew another, a little to the left. Then another, making a short path for himself. As long as he stayed in the circles, he would be safe, right?
Teeth chattering, Alfred scraped the chalk along the floor, repeating the same motion over and over and over again.
***
Down the hallway, Antonio lay doubled over on the ground, clutching at his vital regions.
“Serves you right, you tomato bastard!”, yelled Lovino, launching another tomato at the man.
“I-It was an accident, I swear”, gasped the Spanish man, blinking away tears and tomato juice.
“You stupid liar! Don’t think I don’t know you did it on purpose!”
“Lovi-“
“You are NEVER, EVER to touch my hair, you understand that you stupid-“
“I didn’t do it on purpose, Lovi! I was just trying to hug you, you looked so cute-“
“Don’t call me cute, you flamenco freak! How dare you go in my room anyways-“
“But Lovino, your room is the one across, that one was mi-“
“I KNOW who’s room is whose, don’t you dare argue with me!”. And with that, Lovino launched another tomato at the poor Spaniard.
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Morning dawned once again on the quaint little inn hosting the congress. Birds were singing, Lovino had stopped yelling, and Feliciano was happily playing hopscotch with the multitude of circles decorating the floor.
“Mein Gott, vat is all this?”, asked a horrified Ludwig, staring at the chalk drawings covering the floor and walls. Circles, dozens of them, along with crosses, stars, something that looked like a totem pole, and illegible symbols which he supposed were writings graced the wooden planks, white dust covering what little space was left - how was he going to explain all this to Francis?
Speaking of the Frenchman, he still hadn’t returned; Ludwig wondered if he should send out a search party.
“This- this is quite unusual, Ludwig-kun”, intoned Japan, having stepped out of his room to come face to face with the white dusty spectacle.
“I’ll tell you what it is; it’s damn freaky!”, came from the end of the hallway, where Lovino was dragging a sleepy and soaking wet Spain to the conference room. The older man’s white shirt was stained dull red in some places, despite obvious efforts to wash the colour out. It also smelled faintly of tomatoes.
“~ve~, Ludwig, where did all the pretty circles come from?”
“I am thinkink that I saw America draw some of these.”
The nations whirled around to see a slightly less haggard Russia; on one hand, he wasn’t bleeding anymore, but on the other, the bags under his eyes seemed to say that he hadn’t slept a wink.
“I also believe that America is drawing these…symbols”, agreed Japan quietly.
“But why would he do that?”, asked Antonio from behind the older Italian.
“Perhaps… perhaps he has inherited it from someone, da?”, suggested Russia with a sweet smile.
“You don’t mean… he couldn’t have got it from England-san, could he?”
“I am only sayink that I have ever seen two people drawink circles like this, and we know who they are being.”, stated Ivan, shrugging his broad shoulders. “But if you are wanting, I vill go and ask America about his new… hobby.”
With that, Ivan turned around and limped down the hallway, coat rustling behind him.
“He still has the marriage registration form stapled to his back”, noted Spain sleepily.
___________
I really didn't know whether to split this bit; in the end I did, so this part is quite short.
Now we sort of know what happened to Ivan. At least, I hope I made it obvious enough ;P
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“N-not here. Not here”
“A-al?”
“Who? WHOA! Oh, oh it’s you… it’s you Mat, sorry, didn’t recognize you”
Matthew forgot to pout at that, fascinated by the chalky substance that seemed to cover every inch of his brother.
“Al, what happened to you?”
“Nothing, yet.”
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s no chalk. It was here before, we left it here, remember? And now it’s gone!”
Canada looked around, and, indeed, there was no chalk in sight.
“That’s ok, Al. We can use erasable pens, right? We have a whiteboard in the storage room, so-“
“No, it’s not ok! It’s not ok, Mattie. It’s not ok because first it was the stilettos, and then Francis went missing, and then it was the ghost and IT WAS WEARING THE CROSS, MATTIE, the black cross and it looked at me with its red eyes and-“
“Al”, Matthew interrupted weakly, “Al, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What stilettos?”
“France’s stilettos. And then the ghost with the blood that was going to kill me-“
“France doesn’t wear stilettos, Al”, chuckled Mat weakly. At least he thought Francis didn’t. “And there are no ghosts here. Honestly. The only person who wears a cross is Prussia, but he’s quite alive, I can assure you-“
“No, it was a ghost! Or maybe it was the viy, and, oh god, I looked at it, I looked right at it and now it can see me and-“
“Al, calm down!”, Matthew grabbed his brother’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “L-let’s go get you something to eat, eh? I’ll make you some pancakes; the ones you like, with the maple syrup.”
“No, no, no, I gotta find the chalk, or else-“
“We’ll find it later, ok? Let’s just get you cleaned up.”
Gently, Matthew led Alfred out of the conference room, Kumajirou padding softly behind them.
_____
Wohoo, last part for today, featuring Matthew. Soon...soon, it'll be your turn, Arthur *chuckles menacingly*
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(And you used Switzerland! Thank you ♥ )
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_____________________
“~ve~, when is Russia going to come back?”, asked Italy, for the third time that hour.
Most of the nations had gathered in the conference room; however, a number of seats were left unfilled. Ivan still hadn’t returned, and no one had seen Francis since two days ago. Curiously, China was also nowhere in sight, and, most notably, Alfred was missing along with his brother.
“Just how many people are we missing?”, growled Romano in annoyance, surveying the small group present.
“Five, when I go wake England”, smiled Spain, shivering in his wet clothes.
The tan nation didn’t have far to go; England’s room was just across the hallway from the conference room. Knocking lightly on the door, the Spaniard soon met with the sight of a sleepy, half-dressed England muttering about his broken alarm and blushing.
“Buena mañana”, smiled Antonio, “May I perhaps borrow some clothes?”
“Wot?”
Apparently, Arthur wasn’t quite awake yet.
“May I perhaps borrow some clothes?”, Spain repeated, slowly this time.
“Clothes? Oh, sure, help yourself. Good morning t- what the bloody hell is this?!” Arthur stepped out of his room to find himself surrounded by chalk caricatures and white dust.
“We were hoping you’d tell us”, said Ludwig, walking out of the conference room.
“Why would I know-… oh, please don’t tell me that insufferable git did it!”
“Which git are you referring to?”, asked Spain, pulling a dry shirt over his head.
“America, of course. Francis would have more taste than ~this~”
“We do indeed believe that it was America-san’s doing.”
“Have you two been… talking lately?”, asked Germany awkwardly.
“Talking? Unless you mean him stealing my torch, no, we haven’t- Good God, you don’t think I ~told~ him to do this, do you?”, scoffed Arthur.
“Well, he has spent more time with you than anybody else”, deadpanned Switzerland, “And it wouldn’t be surprising for him to pick up some habits…”
“Habits?! So are you saying this…lunacy” - Arthur motioned to the hallway with a look of disgust - “… is actually ~my fault~?! Because I ~taught him~ how to … graffiti the walls?”
“We’re not trying to lay the blame on you, Arthur”, Spain hastened to say. “We’re just curious about where he could’ve gotten these ideas from. You ~have~ drawn magic circles before…”
“Yes, and I summoned ~Russia~ of all people. I don’t think America particularly wants to summon him, somehow.”, snapped Arthur.
“~ve~, when is Russia coming back?”
“Why don’t you think Braginski did it? Probably thought it was funny too”, Arthur continued, raising his massive eyebrows.
“Russia is another case altogether”, sighed Ludwig, ignoring Romano’s mutter of “yeah, a nutcase”.
“I’m sure Braginski will be back soon. Those of us who are here should proceed to the conference room. It’s time to start the meeting, despite our low numbers. And if anyone sees America, tell him I’d like to have a chat”, continued the German, throwing one last pained look at the hallway.
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And when Alfred tried to tell him that It had gotten them, and they had to get out of here, because they were next, Matthew had just shushed him and fed him poutine and iced tea and let him hold Kumajirou until he felt better (which he didn’t, the fur just made him sneeze like mad).
Finally, Alfred sneaked out while Mat was making Mac and Cheese, creeping toward the conference room, because there HAD to be chalk somewhere, right?
But alas, the room was completely chalk-free, except for the circles drawn on the floor. Alfred made sure to stay in those as much as possible. Just as he opened the door to leave, the door across the hall also opened, and he nearly jumped out of his skin before recognizing a very irate England.
“Arthur! You’re ok!”
“No, I’m not ok, you wanker.”
“What’s the matter, did It-“
“The ~matter~”, interrupted Arthur, “is that I’m getting blamed for your idiocy!”
“…What?”
“You heard me. Your redecoration of the hallway and rooms has me pinned as some crazy cultist who taught you… I don’t know what!“
“But you do talk to fairies…”
“Those are different!”
“Yeah, they don’t exist, unlike the Viy-“
“Yes, they do! They do too exist!”
“Arthur, I know you must get lonely sometimes, but imaginary friends are called ~imaginary~ for a reason...”
“They’re not imaginary! They’re real, unlike your… what was it… vie?”
“Viy. And it does too exist. Ivan told me, it can look into your soul and when it sees you all the demons-“
“Braginski did?!”, exclaimed Arthur. “I knew that loon was behind it all! He told you about these…demons?”
“Yes”, explained Alfred, happy that he was finally getting through to someone, “there’s this super demon, like a level boss, and if he sees you-“
“You don’t need to tell me the rest”, sighed Arthur. “I know that story, and I can assure you, I’ve never seen anything like the creature described”
“That’s because you die when you see it.”, explained Alfred patiently.
“Well, no, you actually don’t according to the tale, you’re confusing it with a basilisk, but - oh, Alfred, you don’t actually ~believe~ Ivan, do you?”
“But I SAW it. It had these red eyes and blood and-“
“Alfred, you probably just imagined it.” Arthur’s voice took on a paternal tone. “Remember when you were a boy?”
America tensed slightly. It was always a little painful to think back to those times, when England had been his beloved father-brother, smiling at him with a warmth he’d probably never see again.
“You were always scared of the dark, weren’t you? Even if you didn’t like to show it.”, continued Arthur in a soft tone. “Remember what I used to tell you?”
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“And I did. Alfred, if any harm is going to come to you, I will be the first to know. And I won’t let you get hurt. Not again.”, Arthur was almost whispering now, furious blush gracing his features.
“When I say there is nothing coming after you, no ghosts, no demons, I’m sure of it. You’re safe here, Al.”
Alfred shifted awkwardly and slowly nodded.
“So please, don’t draw any more crazy symbols, alright?”
Alfred nodded.
Arthur’s stern expression softened a little. “Now be a good boy and go to sleep”.
The Englishman held the door open for Alfred, patting him on the shoulder and trying to look reassuring. He had gotten through to him. Now-
“A-arthur…”
“What?”, asked Arthur, following Alfred’s panicked gaze to see a note pinned lying on the floor, facing his room.
On it were red letter, smeared a little, spelling YOU’RE NEXT.
“Oh God. Oh God.”
“Alfred, calm down, this is-“
“Arthur, we’ve gotta get out of here, your pixies were wrong, It ~is~ coming-“
“Alfred, this is probably just a-“
But Alfred had already dashed away towards the inn’s exit.
“-a joke”, finished Arthur lamely.
Staring into the dark hallway, he didn’t notice the shadows shift. The darkness moved, morphed. It drew closer, reaching out, brushing Arthur’s shoulder and-
“Wha- Francis? Where in the Queen’s name have you been, you git?!”
“Courteous as always, Angleterre. And here I was, arranging for the electricity in your room to be fixed”
“The electricity?”
“Oui. I even” - Francis pointed to the floor with a graceful flourish - “left you a note so that you’d know everything would be well soon”
“That’s your idea of a note? You stupid frog, who writes a note like that?”
Francis shrugged. “I did not have much to work with, so I used what I had.”
“What you had?”
“A napkin and some lipstick, Angleterre.”
“Why couldn’t you just ~tell~ me you were coming?”
“Ah, but I had to supervise the other rooms”
“The other-…. you left me for last, didn’t you?!”
“Non”
“…”
“Per’aps”
“… I hate you.”
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Hugging his knees closer, he sat quietly and waited for ~It~ to come. Instead, a harried Canadian stumbled into the front hall, flashlight in hand and bear in tow.
“Alfred?”
“…”
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Alfred looked up to see the worried face of his brother and wondered if that’s what he looked like right now: face pale and eyes teary and hair curl drooping in exhaustion.
No way, he had to look cooler than that.
“Al, why did you run off?”, asked Matthew, annoyance flashing in his eyes now that the initial worry had passed. “I looked all over for you; I thought you were hurt!”
“Heroes don’t get hurt, Mattie”, answered Al quietly.
“Heroes don’t mope in the hallway either. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”, snapped Matthew. “You’re not going to sleep in the hallway, are you?”
“I’m not going to sleep”
“Do you even know what you look like? Any more ‘not sleeping’ and the bags under your eyes will smother New Jersey.”
“…”
“Alfred F. Jones, you get up right now!”, growled Matthew, pulling his arm urgently.
“Let me go”, protested Alfred feebly, staying where he was.
“Alfred…”
“…”
“Alright, you asked for it!”
And suddenly, Alfred’s world was turned upside down, Texas slipping down his nose. Readjusting the state, the found himself face to face with the back of a pair of jeans.
“Put me down, Mat!”, squeaked Alfred in indignation, recognizing the Canadian’s backside.
“No way”, answered Mat, readjusting the American slung over his shoulder a little and beginning to walk towards the rooms.
Now Alfred had his face buried in a soft hoodie. Better, but still totally un-heroic.
“Ma~at~”, Alfred whined, kicking and twisting a little, trying to get out of the Canadian’s grip.
“Ow! Would you stop that?! You’re difficult enough to carry as is, eh?”
“Put me down Mat!”
“Not until you stop being an idiot!”
And with that, Mat used his hip to prop open a door and carried the American into a cozy, warm room. The first thing Alfred noticed was the nightlight, shining brightly from beside the bed. The second was the hamburger-patterned sheets on the bed.
“Aww, you used the sheets I gave you!”
Matthew blushed and unceremoniously dumped his brother on the bed. Before Alfred had a chance to break for the door, Matthew used his weight to pin the other man’s legs to the bed by the simple method of sitting on them.
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“Natalia?”
“I saw her wandering the halls with a knife before. But you know how she is. She wouldn’t hurt you unless you got between her and Ivan. Which I hope you’re smart enough not to do?”
Alfred nodded.
“Oh, and there’s Prussia too. But he’s not a ghost. Not yet, anyways. So you really have nothing to be scared of.”
Alfred gave him a disbelieving look.
“Alright, you know the story that you mentioned? The one Ivan told you? Well, in that story, the curse only lasted for three nights, eh? So you just have to be ok tonight, and you won’t have to be scared anymore.”
Mat looked down at his brother with a pleading look.
“And what about tonight?”, muttered Alfred.
“Well…”, Matthew nibbled on his bottom lip in thought, curl bobbing quite adorably. “I suppose you could stay here tonight. Ok?”
Alfred was about to protest that the quiet Canadian wouldn’t be much help when fighting a monster, but the hopeful look Mat was giving him made him swallow the words.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d be okay here?
“A-Alright.”, muttered Alfred, smiling weakly at his brother. Matthew immediately broke into a grin and moved to sit beside Alfred. Ow. Ow, he could feel his legs again, now that the Canadian had gotten off, and the pinprick feeling was nasty.
“Just don’t try to run away, eh? Kumajirou will guard the door.”
“Heroes don’t run away.”, mumbled Alfred, kicking off his sneakers.
Matthew’s answer was muffled as he pulled off his hoodie. Grabbing the maple leaf patterned blanket from the foot of the bed, he covered both of them with it, pulling Alfred into a loose hug at the same time.
“…”
“…”
“…. Mat…”
“What?”
“That’s awkward.”
“…Shut up, eh?”
“…”
“…Mat?”
“What?!”
“You’re not gonna fall asleep before me, are you?”
“’Course not.”
“… promise?”
“…Promise.”
“…”
“…”
“…really?”
“Go to sleep, Al.”
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Wait, what?
Eyes snapping open, he was greeted by the sight of a sleeping Canadian, blonde hair tousled and breath steady, arms secured firmly around Al’s waist.
“…erm… Mat…”
Silence.
“Mat, wake up.”
The Canadian snuggled closer, giving a soft, sleepy whine.
“Mat, seriously. Wake up!”
Alfred reached up and gave Matthew a shake. Which had no effect. Alright, time for drastic measures.
Reaching for the Canadian’s curl, Alfred grasped tightly and gave it a sharp tug. This time, the Canadian’s eyes snapped open, as the boy sat up suddenly, confused and blushing like mad.
His brother was so strange sometimes, Al thought.
“You’re awake, finally! I was starting to get worried”, Alfred teased, free to move around now that Matthew had let go of him.
“Why’d you tug my hair?!”, the younger boy complained, sending him a sleepy glare, “I asked you not to do that!”
“You’re so weird, Mattie. It’s just hair.”
“Yeah, well, don’t, eh?”, the Canadian mumbled, looking away.
“Alright, alright. Anything you say, Mattie”, grinned Alfred.
“Do you want breakfast?”, asked Matthew, yawning and stretching.
“Are you going to make it?”
“…Sure, why not. Do you want pancakes?”
“Of course I do”
As Matthew crawled over to the nightstand to retrieve his glasses and Alfred didn’t stare at the mountains of British Columbia, he didn’t, because that was more awkward than the hug before, the American realized that today was the best he’d felt in a long time. He hadn’t been mauled, eaten or anything of the sort, and if what Mat said was true than he was safe now that three nights were past.
He was safe so… maybe Arthur was right about the fairies?
Naah.
“Hey, Mat, I’ll race you to the kitchen!”, laughed Alfred, already taking off towards the door, ignoring the cry of “No fair!” behind him.
Yep, today was a great day.
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The door to the conference room slammed open and nine heads turned to see Natalia, clutching a piece of Ivan’s scarf and looking around the room with a predatory gleam in her eyes.
“Has anyone seen my brother?”, she inquired curtly, gaze roving over the room.
“Nope, sorry”, grinned America from his seat, giving her a hero smile. Arthur rolled his eyes and sipped his Earl Gray, exchanging an exasperated look with Ludwig.
“Very well then”. With a flutter of skirts, Natalia was gone.
A few minutes past.
“I think it’s safe to come out now.”, offered Canada.
With a lot of scuffling, Ivan emerged from underneath the table, exhaustion written on his face.
“So you actually stayed there for over a day?”, asked England incredulously, amusement evident in his tone.
“Next time, I vill be organizing guards and defence, da?”, answered Ivan darkly, taking a swing from his nearly empty vodka bottle and collapsing into a chair.
“That is quite the feat-aru!”
The nations all jumped in surprise and turned towards the door to see a smiling China walking in, Shinatty-chan cellphone in hand.
“Where exactly have you been?”, asked Ludwig tensely, massaging his temples.
“Me? I went to town to get another power cord- aru. Then I noticed there was no Chinatown for miles, which made me think about how nice it would be to have dumplings readily available-aru!”, grinned Yao, sauntering over to the table.
“And then…you went to another Chinatown?”, Francis inquired hopefully.
“Nope. I made one right there-aru!”, answered China happily, sliding a brochure across the table.
America smiled as Francis paled a little and picked up the piece of paper with the very tips of his fingers, considering the new attraction with a look of deep mistrust. England snickered, France glared back, and soon the two were in a heated argument over nothing. Ludwig moved to intervene, but found himself held back by the sleepy Italian draped across his lap. Romano started yelling at the German, barely restrained by a smiling Spain. Switzerland cocked his gun menacingly while China just stared.
Exchanging a smile with Mat, Alfred decided that things were exactly as they should be.
‘And the Hero lived happily ever after’, Al narrated in his head.
___________
Sorry for the lame ending, anon ran out of steam.
Nevertheless, anon is done! *dances in glee* She will now prance off to find more requests to fill...tomorrow.
Thank you, wonderful anon who commented. <3
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...this anon was wondering if you'd de-anon with this fic so she can add it to her memories and easily link it to people who aren't fans of the kink meme? It's fine if you don't want to, though ♥
Also!
“Do you even know what you look like? Any more ‘not sleeping’ and the bags under your eyes will smother New Jersey."
How did you know I was a New Jersey!anon who would love a shout out to her state? XD
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Failure!anon must be psychic, to know that New Jersey!anon is from there!
Failure!anon has also uploaded the story here : http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5195198/1/Hollywood_Horror
She hopes that is what reviewer!anon was looking for.
Otherwise, she's so glad that you enjoyed the story! <3
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