Alright, just a quick author's note here before I begin. I had gotten this idea slightly from Bob&Tom's - youtube it - "Winnie the Pooh goes apeshit." - For some odd reason I feel like I spelled the wrong.

So for lack of a better title, Canada goes apeshit. When writing this, I attempted to keep the tone of .. I believe personality of the narrator of the Enliglish dubbed Hetalia. As you can see, instead of England I name Britain. This is due to the fact of the English dub. Please bear with me. SO BRITAIN = ENGLAND : D

Hope you enjoy. Maybe if you truly want, when reading this think of the English dub's female narrator.

- Do not own Hetalia.

Now, this is a tale that can bring great misfortune to your mental state. It's possible, it may even taint your opinions and narrow-minded thoughts on this particular male. You may lay awake at night, and wonder.. why? Just why did this have to happen, why had it occurred? You may even wish you hadn't even read it. But in the end, you'd have to admit that it was interesting.

I will begin to speak of this tale, of total gruesome sadism that started with a remark. One mere remark was made.. Uttered to begin conversation. A very innocent question that evoked a fury of emotions that rushed out in one blow. A wall that had been broken. Begin to understand why Canada had finally lost it.

"Hey, America when are we having the next meeting?" A British accent drawled, the sound a low hum in the silence. France was standing perky as ever beside Britain, reeking of the fresh hair products he had recently applied to his hair. Britain's thick eye brows drew together, furrowing even as he glared at Canada. He had no idea that he had made a false call, and was possibly taking his glaring too far due to Canada's ignoring him. "America?" Britain asked, his tone slowly becoming hushed as an almost doomed expression crossed that face of our dear Canada.

Canada's shoulder slumped unhappily, as he slowly turned around. "I'm Canada.." He said sadly, unhappy to have been accused as America once more. He could understand that they were in fact identical, but if people noticed him more often wouldn't they be able to tell the difference? It was wearing on his last nerve, slowly thinning the string that held his sanity together. He was absolutely alone in this world, being beaten up occasionally by fellow enemies who did not like America at all, and were enraged just by seeing his face. Not even his teddy bear, that he held long conversations with - if you can call them that - remembered his name. It only bonked him on the head, attempting to remember but giving up within due time and wobbling off. Leaving Canada to sob in a corner.

Wow. Canada was a loner.

Abandoning the thought of being such a person, Canada sighed and began to turn around before Britain interrupted his retreat. "Are you sure?" He asked as he always did, a crease appearing in his forehead as he concentrated. France tossed his hair flicking it from his face briefly to turn to Britain with a face of pure disapproval. France saw Britain as a total moron. That thought would not change, no matter how much they were seen together. But one day, he'd turn Britain into a little "mini me" of himself, and would share their hours pleasantly. All he had to do was taint his stubborn mind.

"Ugh, Britain you idiot" France said with a timid chuckle to follow his thick accented words; "This is obviously Canada. How can you not see the difference? Tsk" France scolded lightly, turning away from Britain. Canada could see the vein lightly pop out in Britain's forehead as he turned with a clenched fist prepared to fight this man.

"Well excuse me for making mistakes, but both of us haven't seen America around for a while! It was your idea in the first place to even ask Canada, you too mistook him for America!" Britain yelled, and France turned around. Their bickering voices were drowned out by Canada's depressed thoughts. 'They never notice me.. How can I not be noticed? I'm Canada.. They always act.. As if.. As if.. AS IF I'M NOT EVEN THERE' Canada's heart pounded in his ears.. It was as if time were slowing as his arm stretched out, reaching for the nearest painting before he unhooked it carefully from its nails and then slammed it down over France's head. The tearing of such a beautiful masterpiece ended the bickering immediately, and France fell to the floor. Britain gasped, stumbling backwards until he bumped into the wall.

"C-Canada" Britain stuttered, his eyes widening as he looked at the male, bent over on his knee's over France, panting. 'I..I can't believe I did that' Canada thought to himself, shaking his head. 'But.. But it felt.. So.. good' He thought, and a very large smirk slowly formed on his puckered lips. Twisting France's head so that he'd squint up at him a very low chuckle rumbled in his throat.

"Who am I again, France?" Canada whispered softly in his ears. Canada could feel the hairs rising on the back of France's neck as his eyes, too widened.

"Y-You're Canada" France choked out the words, fear accelerating his heart beat until his face was flushed an immense amount. With a smirk still on his face, Canada wrapped his hands slowly around France's neck, squeezing tightly around the ripped paper that was scattered on his frame. Britain choked on his own gasp as he turned around to run, possibly to get help.. Or even allow France to struggle alone.

"I'm sorry Britain, but you won't be leaving so soon" Canada said in a sincere voice, his leg kicking out to trip Britain. He smashed into the ground and a loud crack echoed in the hall. Canada's fingers were still probing against France's pulse, his grip only getting tighter and tighter as the seconds rolled on by. But by this point, France has begun struggling, red in the face and spitting occasionally on Canada. Though, he did not mind this the struggling was becoming much, since he had little experience with fighting. Britain was clutching his leg, grinding his teeth from the pain of newly broken bone.

"How do you like it now?" Canada whispered in France's ear once more, seeing as he was losing oxygen fast unable to move his limbs with as much strength as before. Then finally, with one last blow Canada knocked France's head to the side, twisting his neck at a grotesque angle and breaking his neck. Turning on Britain who shivered, closing his eyes from the sight of France lying on the floor at such odd-angles, Canada crawled forwards. "Why do you always act like I'm not there?" He inquired, raising a brow, his smirk still clear on his lips.

"I-I'm sorry Canada!" Britain blurted out, before Canada wrapped his fingers around Britain's face and smashed his head into the wall once. Twice. Continually forcing Britain's skull constantly into the wall. Soon, it began to crack and a single trickle of blood dribbled down the back of Britain's head and down his neck. Feeling a ripple of satisfaction burst from within him. Seeing the blood that he had drawn.. The lives that he had taken, lying helplessly on the floor only made him grin wider.

Now, by this point you may be thinking that Canada is one insane bastard. Possibly even screaming "Why France and Britain? No!" But you must read on now.. It's too late to turn back. And don't you want to see who is the next prey?

Dragging the two crushed bodies and forcing them into a nearby closet lazily, Canada whistled on down the hall, his day finally sunny and happy for once. But who would be next? If there are any.