I was inspired to write this by a fic I came across before...XD

Ivan sat at the table, along with everyone else. The Baltics, he saw, were as far from him as they could get.

He snorted. I never hurt them. It's only them and everyone else that think I would…

As America rose, everyone fell silent from their own idle chatter.

"Well, uh, I hope this should be quite quick, you know, because I have an appointment with-"

"Get on with it you idiot and we can be done!"

England had stood and was facing America with irritation all over his features.

"Okay! Dude, stay calm!"

Russia closed his eyes momentarily to escape the idiots for a second. He opened them again, and America started to talk again.

"Anyway, I was hoping you guys could help out Greece, I mean he's kinda stuck-"

He was interrupted when suddenly the lights went out.

For a second Russia blinked repeatedly, thinking he had gone blind. Then he understood.

Ivan stiffened, fighting voices whispering in his head. Your fault your fault your fault…

In his imagination, but it seemed vividly real, blood dripped on his coat from above, and although in the dark he was blind, he looked up, and saw the faces of all his dead, twisted and frozen in death.

Speechless, he backed away, tripping over his chair.

America, on the other side of the table, the other side of the world for Ivan, was telling everyone to wait until he found the emergency light switch.

Ivan scrambled back, attempting to escape the horrors that were haunting him, and stared as a stain on the floor turned red, and spread, blood soaking everything.

The other nations sat, unmoving in case they hit another and unintentionally started a war. Patiently, they waited, and America crawled toward a wall.

Shaking, Ivan bumped into a wall and followed it until he was in a corner. The blood was nearly upon him, and as he looked at his arms he saw multiple cuts that oozed blood.

America was almost on the switch. He stood up, feeling along the wall.

As fear dug deeper into him, Ivan felt a scream escape him, and he curled up, squeezing his eyes shut to everything.

America jumped as a scream echoed through the room, and found the switch, turning it on.

The other nations relaxed, and looked around for the source of the sound. America's eyes frantically scanned the others faces, concern for whomever was scared controlling him.

Everyone's eyes suddenly fell on the upturned chair in Russia's place.

Then, slowly, America walked around the table, staring at the chair, the chills creeping down his back, and he resisted the urge to shiver.

Then a movement caught his eye, and his eyes widened at the sight.

Russia, Russia, the strongest nation he knew, was huddled in a corner, child-like, and shivering in fear.

Alfred slowly approached him, kneeling down.

Carefully, gently, he laid a hand on Ivan's arm.

"Ivan?" He whispered.

Shaking, Ivan lowered his arms, and America fought the reaction of screaming.

Ivan's face was covered in deep cuts, disfiguring his usually smooth features.

Trembling, Ivan looked up with eyes that were streaming with tears, eyes that did not recognise America.

"Help me…"

Now, it could either end here or continue...what do you think?

Flames will be used to stoke your funeral pyre.