Warnings, PLEASE READ!
Speech is written semi-phonetically, and there will be swearing
Psycho! Japan
Gore (dissection, cannibalism, fights, broken bones, suicide)
Delicate subjects (suicide, death)
Character deaths
Incredibly plot-packed
Germany=HRE theory
GerIta is the only 'official' ship here. There are hints of a mixture of others that can be interpreted however you like
I am a sadistic writer, so if this story does not evoke feels, I will be disappointed.

"You can't be serious, Kiku," Ludwig glances from him, to Feliciano, and back again, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm afraid I do," Kiku's expression is as stony as ever as he speaks; "Nations are dying around us. Can you really stand to see him fall? Or see his misery as everyone he loves falls?"

Ludwig gazes out to sea. They're somehow marooned again, on a different beach somewhere in America they think, and again have set up camp. Feliciano is fast asleep, Ludwig and Kiku awake and watching for signs of life.

"Nein, I cannot do that. But I cannot do what you have proposed either."

"Why? Feliciano cannot protect Italy. We can. We can save his country, guide it through this war. We can make Italy powerful, like his Grandfather before him."

"There has to be another way!" Ludwig whisper-shouts.

"There isn't!" Kiku snaps; the first time Ludwig has ever heard him raise his voice. "But," Kiku continues, voice quietening back to his usual quiet tone, "But there is a way we can be sure he won't be hurt.

Ludwig follows Kiku's gaze out to the ocean. "You can't be serious."

Ludwig at his shoulders, Kiku at his legs, Feliciano is carried into the sea, his dormant body lifted above the waves.

He gasps aloud as he is lowered, the cold water slapping him awake. He flails, trying to grab Ludwig as the salty liquid soaks his clothes, Feliciano gulping for air.

Ludwig cries, tears streaming down his reddened face, as the water closes over Feliciano's face, as Feliciano scrabbles and scratches helplessly at the iron grip on his shoulders, as Feliciano finally stops thrashing.

Kiku drops Feliciano's legs lazily onto the sand. Ludwig places him down gently, still sobbing quietly.

Kiku throws some small of wood onto the fire, and hangs Feliciano's favourite pasta pan very the flames. He takes up one of Feliciano's kitchen knives- a small, sharp one that Feliciano would use to chop up wurst for Ludwig, because he knew how much Ludwig likes wurst- and begins to cut Feliciano's shirt open, taking little notice of how the point would repeatedly nick the soft flesh of Feliciano's stomach. When Ludwig flatly refuses to let go of Feliciano's body, Kiku shrugs his German friend's misery off and digs the knife in just under Feliciano's collar bone. He drags the knife down between his rubs, through his abdomen, stomach, navel, stopping at his hips. Kiku's hand delves into Feliciano's stomach, blood soaking the already wet sleeves of his jacket. His hand closes around something warm and moist, and he slowly begins to pull it out. Inch by inch, Feliciano's colon is pulled from his stomach, Kiku wrapping the organ around his arm as if he's simply gathering up cloth. The colon is cut away and dumped unceremoniously in a small, tangled pile on the sand. Kiku's hand returns to Feliciano's stomach, this time grasping the Italian's pancreas.

The colon, wound into a tight spiral, covers the bottom of the large pan, and makes a sizzling noise it cooks. A small pile of organs lie in a messy, bloody heap by the fire. Ludwig cries, Feliciano's emptied corpse sprawled over the trembling German's legs.

Ludwig barely fights back as Kiku forces his mouth open, stuffs a barely-cooked piece of offal into his jaw and stares at him evenly until he slowly chews and eventually swallows his best friend. Piece by painful piece, the chewy intestine is fed down Ludwig's throat. The aftertaste of plain pasta barely registers as Ludwig gazes sadly down at Feliciano. The pan sizzles again as the diced chunks of liver are thrown lazily into the bottom.

A small groan sounds from Ludwig's legs. The German stares down in shock as Feliciano rolls his head around, mumbling something in Italian. "Ve, Ludwig, are you cooking a Full English this morning?"

Kiku gives a dry smile, "The only good food to come from Britain."

"You don't usually give your opinion, Kiku! Or crack jokes, but that was a pretty funny one, ve~"

Ludwig's jaw quivers, random syllables in a mixture of Latin, German and English choking from his throat. "You said he was dead!" he screams, pointing an accused finger at Kiku.

Kiku rolls his eyes, "You can't kill a nation, idiot," he speaks slowly, as if explaining something to a small child, his voice dripping with uncharacteristic sarcasm, "And I never said he was dead, I said "that's enough"."

"My chest hurts," Feliciano whines, dragging his arms across the sand until his hands are laid flat, and he begins to push himself up.

Ludwig presses him back down, one hand under the Italian's chin to stop him from looking down at his bloody body, "It's… it's nothing, Feli, go back to sleep."

"But I'm hungry! My poor belly is practically empty!" Feliciano's hands move before Ludwig has a chance to stop them, going to rest on his stomach. "My belly feels funny," he says softly, his fingers massaging his stomach. They ghost over his halved naval, blood coating his nails.

"It's okay," Ludwig presses Feliciano's hands back down to the sand, "Just go back to sleep, it's okay…"

Kiku laughs hollowly, "No it isn't. Italia-sama, you have been cut open and your digestive system removed. Your liver is cooking, and your colon has already been cooked and Ludwig has eaten it."

"Say wha?" Feliciano gazes up at Ludwig, "Why would you do that, Luddy?"

"I just…" Ludwig's fingers curl unconsciously around Feliciano's, "I just wanted Nord Italien save, and Kiku said he how to knew. Kiku had that the only way Nord Italien save was protect it myself said, because would you have fear, but would you not just your country away give so we would have to from you take, but I have not known…"

"It's okay, Luddy," Feliciano gives Ludwig's hand a small squeeze, "I know you're upset, 'cause you're saying English words in the German order. You always get your languages mixed up when you're upset."

Ludwig squeezes Feliciano's hand back, "Dänke schön, Feli. Es tu mir lied."

"Y'know, you could just have asked," Feliciano says, "I would have to think about it, because Lovino doesn't like you and wouldn't like sharing the country with you, but if I had to give it up, I would give my land to either you or Lovi."

Ludwig pulls Feliciano up into an awkward hug. Blood soaks the sand and Feliciano grits his teeth in pain, but returns the hug. Kiku just rolls his eyes.

"Es tu mir leid," Ludwig mumbles. He puts Feliciano down again, still cradling the Italian's head in his lap.

Kiku holds up a plate. Grey pieces of meat have been piled carelessly on the plain platter. Ludwig grimaces, pushing the plate away.

"Eat it, Luddy."

Ludwig stares down at Feliciano in shock. "You can't be serious!"

"You seem to be saying that a lot recently," Kiku mumbles.

"Lovino won't like it, but you can look after my half of the country. Take care of it for me, Luddy."

Still clinging to Feliciano's hands, Ludwig allows Kiku to feed him the chunks of offal, the sliced pancreas already sizzling in the bottom of the bottom of the pan. As Ludwig slowly chews, Kiku raises a slightly burnt piece to his own mouth. Feliciano kicks him sharply in the thigh and glares at him, "Italy is already in two. Put that down, Japan."

Kiku glares back, then feeds the piece to Ludwig. Feliciano smiles and gives a little 've~' as if the entire scene is perfectly normal.

"How can you be so calm?" Ludwig asks quickly before Kiku stuffs another chunk of liver into his jaw.

"It's really easy, really," Feliciano says, grinning, "I'm singing one of my favourite songs in my head~"

"Can you singing?" Ludwig asks, a blush heating his hamster-like cheeks, "Out loud? Bitte?"

Feliciano nods, and opens his mouth; "Ne, ne, papa, can I have wine? Ne, ne, mama! Ne, ne, mama!"

Ludwig's eyes widen and his jaw drops, a half-chewed chunk of liver almost falling out.

"Luddy?" Feliciano frowns, "Are you alright?"

"I know this song," Ludwig mumbles, Kiku making sure he doesn't spit out the offal.

"I sang it a lot when I was a bambi, but I stopped when Holy Rome died. Holy Rome really liked that song. I sing it in my head, because even though it reminds me of Holy Rome, which should make me sad, the song makes me really happy~"

Ludwig just stares emptily, still chewing at the slimy mush in his mouth.

"No matter what, I can't forget," Feliciano continues, "The taste of the bolognaise won't get out of my head! Draw a circle, that's the Earth!" Ludwig is still staring down at him, the image of a little green-clad maid burning in his mind, "Draw a circle, that's the Earth," the little maid is sweeping, using a decking brush far too tall for her tiny frame, "Draw a circle, that's the Earth," the little maid stands by Austria's piano, singing the exact same song Italy is singing, her voice high and rather squeaky, "I am Italy~"

Ludwig chokes on his current meat chunk as both Feliciano and the little maid in his mind proclaim themselves Italy, both with the exact same happy, ditzy grin gracing their features. "Heilig Scheisse."

Feliciano frowns up at Ludwig, and Kiku pauses his force-feeding. Blue eyes bore into Feliciano's face, then rake over his bloody body and back down to his face. "You… you're… you're…" Ludwig chews on his lower lip, thousands of images flitting through his mind of ties long past. He awkwardly clears his throat, then slowly, shakily, carefully sings; "Oh, a beautiful world that can be seen in the stroke of a single brush."

Feliciano's frown deepens, then widens, "Holy Rome!"

Ludwig nods, words still tumbling from his mouth, "And now we toast with a big boot!"

Kiku rolls his eyes as, in almost perfect unison, Ludwig and Feliciano chorus; "Hetalia!"

This chapter was inspired by a friend telling me about the Hetalia Creepypasta. The rest just happened. This is rated T because M is reserved for butts.

I don't own Hetalia
-Laurel Silver