A/N: Hey, there! I'm CarrotUndASchtick and I'm a relatively knew author. I started this as a story where Canada takes 'revenge' on America for...well, I don't want to say ruining his life, but I guess that'll work. Anyway, it turned into this. Hope you like it.

"Oomph!"

The already bloody knife was shoved back into the already very weak young American, earning a gasp of pain from the bloodied and beaten man. The attacker twisted the knife that had been plunged in his chest, right above his heart, earning a sickly moan of pure agony as the knife began to scrape against his insides. 'How did this happen?' he asked himself. This had just started out as him going to see you, his girlfriend, and had escalated to this man killing him. Well, he was trying to kill him, but sadly Alfred (I'm SORRY but I really wanted to write a story and use their human names a bit) wouldn't- I mean couldn't die that easily. How about we rewind and see how our story REALLY got to this?

(This is a line break)

The young man known as America was in his house lying on the couch, he was tired, he'd had a long week, and it WAS Saturday, after all. He tried to remember if he'd had anything to do later that day, but thinking too hard made his brain hurt, so with a sigh he got up and went into the kitchen for some 'brain food' (it actually DOES work. Trust me). He walked up to his refrigerator and opened the door just to see he only had fifty hamburgers. 'Dang' he thought to himself 'why are there only fifty in here?' he wanted to know, but remembered Tonny. But also remembered his alien friend wasn't there. He grabbed one and went out to his car, figuring he'd get more. After stock piling on junk food America got one (diet) soda and a plate of hamburgers from the overflowing fridge and went back into his living room. He skillfully flopped down on the couch without disturbing the burgers or soda. He flipped on the TV and after finding nothing good to watch, put in a videogame. After about thirty minutes he got a call, with a groan of frustration he paused his game and picked up his phone. His attitude towards a phone call disrupting his game quickly changed at seeing the person calling was you, his girlfriend. He answered it with a grin on his face, happy to talk to you.

"Hey, (Your name)! How's it goin'?

"Hehe, I'm fine, Alfred. How are you?"

He thought about saying 'Better now.' but knew it was corny and over used by men all over the planet.

"Oh, I'm good."

'Why did I say that?!' he scolded himself.

"Well that's good."

"Huh? Oh yeah. So, umm…..wanna hang out tonight?"

"Sure!"

America let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding at the sound of your reply.

"So, uhh how about at…."

"McDonalds?"

You had taken the words right out of his mouth.

"Yeah! I'll pick you up!"

"Oh, ok."

"See ya at eight!"

After saying this he promptly hung up the phone and went to take a shower, completely forgetting the existence of his game, and the fact that it was an online one….

(This is yet another line break.)

America was driving to your house; he'd taken a shower, put some cologne on, and dressed up, just for you. On the way there he thought about what'd happened before he'd left for your house. Canada had come over. He asked him if he'd seen Kumajaru around, but after seeing his brother cleaned up, changed his question as to why he actually looked presentable for a change…

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you going somewhere?"

"Yep! I'm about to leave to pick up (name)."

"Oh, where are you going after that?"

"To McDonalds, on a date!"

He responded happily. Canada's heart sank. He loved you too. But, obviously, America was the one that'd won your heart. He ran out of the house in a blur of color and America stood there, wondering just where his brother had gotten this speed. But obviously not why he'd run out in the first place….

America shook his head, thinking about things too hard made his brain hurt, as you already know. He stopped at a flower shop, wanting to surprise you with a bouquet of (your favorite flowers). But before he could get inside he felt something hard hit the back of his head, and everything going black…

(I guess you could call this a line break.)

America groggily began to open his eyes. Everything was black, and anything that wasn't black was too blurry to make out. His head hurt like crazy, too. He went to rub his sleepy eyes then throbbing head, only to find his hands'd been bound above his head. He went from trying to keep his eyes open to panicking. He waited impatiently for his eyes to adjust and began to scan the room. He noticed he was in a small, damp room; his hands were in fact bound above his head; he was on the floor; and his feet were bare and had been chained to the floor but not specifically together. His heart was racing as fear began to seep in. Where was he? Who'd done this? What were they planning? But he quickly shook his head. Thinking about these things only made it worse. And right when doing this he'd heard the sound of a door closing and feet coming down the stairs. But it wasn't a 'thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!' of someone who was in a hurry, but a 'thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.' of someone who had all the time in the world to get where they were going. America's heart felt like it was about to explode, it was beating so fast. He watched on in horror as the person reached the bottom of the stairs and began to slowly make their way over to him. America's eyes may have adjusted, but it was still very dark, and he couldn't make out the person. They bent down and pulled out something from their pocket, America wasn't sure what it was, but saw the light reflect off of it a bit. He prayed to God it wasn't what he thought it was. But it was. They put the knife to the bottom of his shoeless foot and began to lightly trace the blade along it absent mindedly. America stiffened at the touch of the blade, feeling something wet trickle down his foot. After a few moments they pulled the blade back and America relaxed only to have the person go from being next to his feet to being right in his face. America jumped at the speed of the person. But now he could see their face. 'That face. It seems SO FAMILIAR! Where have I seen it?!' he asked himself.

"W-who are you?"

He finally asked. He tried to sound strong and unafraid, but failed miserably. They gently put the tip of the blade to his chin and leaned in even closer than he already was and replied in just barely above a whisper….

"I'm Canada…"

America's eyes doubled in size.

"C-Canada?"

"Yes, America."

America felt a pang of agony shoot up from his side; he looked down to see the knife lodged into it. Canada pulled the knife out slightly and shoved it back in. America's eyes began to lose focus as Canada pulled the knife out of his wound and blood poured from it. His mouth hung open, too shocked to even FEEL the pain he should be experiencing. Seeing this, Canada gave him a good kick to the gut, right where he'd stabbed him. America was shook right out of his surprise by the attack and started to cough up blood and gasp for breath. America looked up in fear at his brother who was still holding the bloody knife. But fear was not the only thing in his eyes. Pain was also apparent in those blue orbs of his. Canada smirked at seeing it'd worked. He grabbed America's bound hands and pulled him up (I don't know how, why are you asking me?!); He looked him straight in the eye…

"Oomph!"

The already bloody knife was shoved back into the already very weak young American, earning a gasp of pain from the bloodied and beaten man. The attacker twisted the knife that had been plunged in his chest, right above his heart, earning a sickly moan of pure agony as the knife began to scrape against his insides. 'How did this happen?' he asked himself. This had just started out as him going to see you, his girlfriend, and had escalated to Canada trying to killing him. And succeeding. Canada dropped his dying brother and began to walk away. After all, you'd be wondering why your 'boyfriend' had stood you up…