This one's a one-shot. So, if you like it and want more, I'm sorry... =/
When they had all walked into the house, England had felt it. The presence. He had glanced at the others but no-one else seemed aware. Their excitement was overriding any misgivings they felt. England watched America's joy, even though he knew he was scared stiff by the prospect of meeting a ghost. Italy was clinging to Germany as usual, though he looked rather happy as opposed to his fearful self, which England had expected. The rest of them, Prussia, Japan, France, China, Russia and Canada all seemed calm yet happy.
"There are ghosts here," England announced.
"Aiee!" exclaimed America, looking round, panicked. "Where? Where?!"
England chuckled. "They're upstairs somewhere."
America looked relieved. "Don't do that! You really scared me, dude!" He looked at England miserably and England immediately felt guilty.
"Aaiyah! Don't do something like that, Opium, aru!" China was looking at him reproachfully. Next to him, France had an amusing expression on his face; he looked as though he had been frightened, too.
"Ve! Germany, Germany! I'm scared!" came Italy's voice as he cowered behind the large German.
Germany just sighed. "Look, Italy – he vas probably just making it up, ja?"
"I am not!" exclaimed England. "And I can prove it! Follow me!" And with that, he started to make his way up the stairs. The others hesitated before following him.
On the first floor, he made his way round the next set of stairs and into a small bedroom. At the back of the room was what looked like a large closet. Inside this room was an old man who was sitting on the bed, staring at his walking stick.
The others filed in and looked round, noticing the old man. Japan glanced around at the other alarmed nations before stepping forward. "Gomennasai, ojisan. We did not realise there was anyone living here…"
"Hm, I wouldn't say he's living here," said England, gently. He waited to see if anyone understood. Everyone seemed to understand after a few seconds of silence except for Italy who looked confused and America who suddenly laughed loudly.
"AHAHAHAHA! So this old dude's like us, huh?! I like your guts, man!" He tried to pat the old man on the shoulder and his hand went through him. He froze, staring at his hand. There was a small "Ve!" from behind him as Italy hid behind Germany. The other nations glanced at the Italian but America was stock still, staring.
Finally, he dropped his hand and stepped backwards. "G-G-G-G-GHOST!" he yelled, clinging to the nearest person, his brother, Canada.
The old man looked up at them. England moved forward to greet him. "Good afternoon, sir. May I ask what is troubling you?"
"Ah… Well… See, today is my wife's birthday. I bought her a gift. A beautiful necklace and I can't find it anywhere." The ghost looked down at his stick. "I really wanted to see her smile when she received it…"
Seeing the ghost looking so miserable, England surveyed the room. "We'll help you look for it, then, sir," he said.
"Quoi?!" exclaimed France. "Are you insane, Sourcils?!"
England glared at him. "It's the least we can do after America put his hand through the poor man!"
The others gave him a strange look. Then, with sighs, they dispersed throughout the room.
"We'll never hear the end of this, otherwise," Canada quietly explained to his brother who was all for abandoning the quest. "Besides," he added, "this way, you'll be a hero…" This hooked America and he continued looking without complaining.
Prussia opened the closet and erupted into a fit of coughs. "Kesese – your collection of dust in here is vunderful!"
"Did you find anything, bruder?" asked Germany, bringing his brother's attention back to the task at hand.
"Vell, zere is a lot of unawesome old things in here, Vest! It'll take ages to look through it all!" Prussia frowned. "And zat vould be an unawesome vaste of time!"
China peeked over Prussia's shoulder. "Perhaps it will be on that shelf up there, aru. That is where I would put a necklace, aru."
Prussia stood on his tip-toes to try to see what was on the shelf. Behind him, Russia appeared, looking over his head. "There is a box there," he said, smiling, leaning forward to take it. Sure enough, when he brought it out, there was a large box with things rattling within. He handed it to England who placed it on the bed.
"Just tell me when you see it, sir," he told the old man, who nodded. England took the lid off and began to take things out of it. There was a lot of odds and ends: pencils; pens; letters; letter openers; a seal; ribbon; some coins; a few marbles; some shells; a photograph of the old man with his wife – they both looked very happy. Soon England came to the bottom of the box and found a small package. Picking it up, he read the label. It said: 'To my lovely Irene. Happy birthday. I love you. Mark.'
"I think I've found it…" said England, looking up at the old man. The old man wasn't listening. He was staring at the package with ghostly tears in his eyes. Gently, he took it from England's hands. "Irene…" he whispered as he began to fade away, the package fading with him.
Once the man had disappeared, France spoke. "Well, zat was just odd, cher. Can we go now?"
"But there are other ghosts we can help!" exclaimed England.
"More ghosts?" asked America, looking frightened. "Are they going to try to kill us?"
"Don't be silly!" said England, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "Ghosts aren't anything to be afraid of!"
"Yeah they are!" said America, clinging to Canada.
Before they could argue any further, Japan stepped in. "If England-san wants to see the other ghosts perhaps we can stay here for a little while longer before we leave…"
There was an eruption of noise as people agreed and disagreed. England glanced around the room at them all before sighing. "Fine, I'll go by myself! I don't need any of you here with me, anyway!" And with that, he left the room, making his way up another two sets of stairs to reach the top of the house. On this floor, there were two rooms. Sensing the ghost to be in the furthest room from the stairs, he began to make his way along the hall. However, this time he sensed that the ghost was angry…
"Is the ghost up here, England-san?" said a voice behind him. He jumped and turned around to find the others following him.
"Ah! What-?" said England, surprised.
"Ve decided to follow on, England," explained Germany quickly and efficiently.
"Ah, well…" said England. "I'll let you follow me. Not for you, you understand! This is entirely to help me! I can use you for distractions! Not that I'll want to do that but it will be good for back-up and…" he trailed off and turned round. "Right. Well. Then, this way." And he continued along the hall.
He entered the room a little more cautiously than the last one. Inside was a desk, another closet – and a rather familiar red chair. The ghost was sitting on the chair. It glared at England and the others as they walked in.
"What the hell do you want?" it said.
"Er," said England. "Well, we just want to help you move on to the-"
"I don't want to," it growled at them as the lights flickered and the cupboards moved.
"Wh-What's it doing?!" asked America, unusually quiet and now hiding behind Germany alongside Italy.
England sighed. "This is going to be difficult…" he said, not paying attention to the rest of them. "Listen, you – you don't belong here. So clear off!"
"Hell no!" it yelled, swooping towards England. England braced himself, his hand held out in front of him.
"Expecto patronum!" he shouted, sending the ghost backwards. The ghost swooped back up, growling and attempted to swoop at England again. However, England shouted his next spell. "Obliviate!" The ghost flickered, screaming, the lights flickering with him, the tables and cupboards rattling until, finally, it blinked out of existence.
"Sorry – that one had become an evil ghost," England explained turning round to face them. He was almost bowled over as America launched himself at him. "E-Eh? Wh-What?!"
"S-S-S-Scary!" exclaimed America, burying his head in England's shoulder.
"Ah," said England, patting America's back. "It's okay. It's gone now." Nonetheless, America squeezed England tightly, still shaking. England's chest began to hurt and he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced…
His chest really hurt and he opened his eyes. Of course, none of that had ever happened. It was only what England had imagined would have happened if this had been a normal haunted house. Instead, he was in a bedroom, bleeding from his chest where the Thing had attacked him. He could feel his life ebbing away from him.
Well, it's okay, dying here. This way, America and France can't mock me. Oh, wait… France can't any more, anyway. But, at least… At least America won't have to be upset. Won't have to see me die, since I'm all alone…
He coughed and something dribbled from his lips. Without even checking, he knew it was blood. He coughed some more, doubled over in pain. "Dammit," he breathed, leaning back against the wall.
He could see the door from where he was sitting. But, as he lay, breathing shakily, he realised his sight was fading. Darkness was encroaching on his view.
He soon realised that his hearing had gone, too, when the door opened. His blurry vision was able to discern a bomber jacket hurrying through the door. America…
The vision rushed forward. Soon, he was kneeling in front of England, saying something. But England couldn't hear him. He could barely see his face, those blue eyes of his looking so sad.
The last thing England saw before everything went black was the tear which slowly slid down America's cheek…
I'm sorry. It was just an idea. I hope this hasn't upset you too much... =/
Hope you like it, though...