A/N: I'm not dead! That's right: I'm not dead. I've just been really busy with my first set of exams and my conference race for cross-country was last week, so I was running every moment of the day I wasn't in class or studying.

It's almost Halloween! And you know all those "13 Days of Halloween" marathons? I thought about it, and why couldn't I do it as well? And with Hetalia! Oh yeah~! So, I've been researching a bunch of random urban legends, and this is a collection of all those I liked with the countries. I'm going to try to make these as creepy as I possibly can, not only because it's almost Halloween, but I want to start to try suspense/horror. I'm sorry if these don't come out like you've expected.

First up is America! Info at the bottom.

1890

It wasn't that dark.

The sun had barely started to set. Red fingers just starting to claw across the sky; but the bloody reaches were non-existent in the cover of the Pine Barrens. Only a few lucky streaks of dying sunlight were allowed to pass the thick, full branches of the trees. Even the breaks in the old wood proved to be an obstacle.

The lantern wasn't much use.

Even with the premature darkness. The shadows were eagerly soaking up the firelight of the glass-contained flame. The lantern thrust outward, rocks and roots still went unseen with only shadows turning to watch the man's procession through the trees.

America swore as his boot wedged itself under yet another root. He pitched forward with a hiss of frustration and shook his leg free, almost wrenching the wood out of the ground. Only the whisper of wind through the leaves accompanied his angry mutterings and goosebumps rose along pale, chilled skin. He rubbed his arms.

"Mother of Mary," the blond shrieked as a large animal took flight before him. A flailing of arms and a sweep of the lamp revealed shaking bushes and (a giant horse head, talons, leathery wings) an owl. America glared up at the bird. It ruffled its feathers, and the man thought he looked very proud of his scare. It hooted in triumph and he jumped again.

Why did he have to do this? he asked himself as he sidestepped a small stream. Wasn't the priest the end of this? Why did he of everyone in the state have to look for the thing? Yes, he loved his people, and yes he was a hero, but this was just suicide! Kids woke up, shivering and screaming, red eyes burning in the back of their minds from this. Adults shuddered just telling their children after a hard day. It wasn't something to look forward. It was something to hide from. Something to be afraid of.

A boulder rose up from a small hill, hidden by a mat of moss and rotting wood. America tumbled down the steep incline and stopped amongst a collection of more stones and glass. A closer inspection showed that the stones were bricks.

A sudden intake of breath. A clatter of the lantern as it fell from his hand. The screech of fisher cat.

The Leeds house.

What was left of it. Everything was broken: the roof caved in, the walls crumbling, windows shattered and bricks thrown about in all directions for a mile. The explosion from Mother Leeds' thirteenth child. The Devil's Son. The Je-

A growl sent a chill up America's spine and he ducked behind a collapsing wall, nails digging into the damp moss as he clambered over the stones and huddled, shaking in relative safety. The beat of wings. A hiss. A loud thump. He could feel the landing through the moist earth.

Shit.

If he stayed really still, it wouldn't find him, right? Like a dinosaur or something. Dinosaurs were pretty interesting. That meant this monster would be pretty interesting. Yeah, pretty interesting to run away from as fast as possible before it could eat anyone!

The sound of stones tumbling over stones grated against his ears and he whimpered as the pounding footsteps echoed louder and louder. Had a tree fallen over (it's tail swept it over, it's claws gouging earth, horns stripping leaves)?

America's heart pounded faster, the blood roaring louder than the beast's footsteps. A shadow. A glint of light off ebony. A claw?

With a screech, America jumped out of his hiding place and darted away from the haunted site, dodging trees and roots and rocks all over again, this time without a light and with fear and panic heating his blood like lightening.

Nothing followed him. Not that he could tell. The thing could have been flying overhead, stalking him high above to rip apart his limbs in a second. He would never know. The thought made his legs pump faster.

It was back. Fine. He had done his job. Close enough to make no matter, at least. Let the people take care of the rest, now. Like last time. He was done with this "legend". The Jersey Devil was back.

A/N: "The Legend of the Jersey Devil"

Deborah(?) and Japhet Leeds, in 1735 had twelve children. They lived in a small house in the middle of the forest of Leeds Point, New Jersey (section of Atlantic County). They were a poor family, and she cursed the thought of another child, claiming "Let this one be the Devil." On a stormy night she gave birth to her thirteenth child. A normal baby, until it suddenly grew and changed. It killed Mrs. Leeds along with the family and destroyed the house. It's said that the Jersey Devil has the head of a horse, the wings of a bat, and a forked tail.

Information gained from a collection of my knowledge of it, Paranormal State and Wiki.