DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia.

Author's Note- Hey~! For all who don't know (this is my first story, so no one really knows lol), my name is Hawkstorm, but you can call me Hawk. I like Hetalia, Homestuck, Sherlock, and lots of other random shit that ruined my life liKE SRSLY GE TME HELP, but let's get back to Hetalia, or more specifically, 2p!Hetalia, the theme of this fanfic. The not-so-interesting backstory of the story is that the beginning of this fic is from one of my favorite English compositions I've written, which while listening to England's Demon Summoning Song on repeat, magically turned into a fanfiction idea. Read the summary for the plot. And please, if you have any questions/comments/corrections for the story, please leave them for me when you go.

Recommendedfor reading on smartphone, but I just like it more there than on the computer.

Beware if you don't like swearing and extreme violence(knife stabbing, head bashing, etc.). Don't like, don't read!

If not obvious already, I ramble a lot. Bear with me.

Alright, let's jump in!

~Rolling Thunder~

Chapter 1

xXx

The girl whimpered in fear and inhaled the musky scent that blanketed the area, cowering at the landscape around the house. On the fence line of the haunting yard, withering trees stretched their arms out towards the sky as they pleaded for rain. Dead grass crackled under the footsteps of lurking creatures. Though the clock struck noon, the sun did not wake, for the gray, solemn clouds blocked the otherwise lifeless sky. Fog congested the wasteland, straining the girl's vision. A single pitch black crow perched on the top of the grand mansion, watching the girl with a piercing eye as she peered around her surroundings. The ornate Victorian manor in front of the girl, which took on a scene much like a horror movie, radiated an eerie aura, almost so that it glowed a deep purple. The paint on the panels which protected the exterior peeled off, and the dark, brittle roof nearly gave way. The house's cobblestone driveway and front steps, which survived centuries of horse carriages and footsteps, revealed an even more damaged look. A sudden ear-splitting scream drowned out any side noise, but abruptly ceased as a loud crack replaced the noise. Petrified, the girl turned to her realtor. "This is the cheapest house you could find?"

The realtor simply smiled brightly, his bright blue eyes and pinkish blond hair contrasting the surroundings. "Of course! Isn't it lovely? Look at all the potential on this property!" His cotton candy eyes began to swirl with pink, and he flashed his famous Cheshire cat grin. He unsheathed a sharp switchblade from his back pocket. "Just like all the potential on you. You'll make fine ingredients for my cupcakes!"

The girl shrieked as the sharp object pierced her stomach. "Oh, what flavor should I make them?" he cackled. "Oh I know! RED VELVET!" He drove the slim blade into her until a deep hole penetrated through her core, and then retracted the knife. Blood rushed from the young lady's wound and mouth, tainting the grass a deep scarlet in the moonlight. "HAVE FUN IN HELL!" The realtor's evil laughter resonated through the clearing, and suddenly stopped. A tall blonde man was dragging a body towards the house. His black sunglasses hid most of his features, and his hair was tied into a low ponytail, though a long, single curl bounced in front of his face as he walked. The man wore an open red plaid shirt, revealing scarlet, once white bandages which wrapped around his chest. With him, he carried a bloodied hockey stick with its head also wrapped with bandages. He looked at the realtor, who had calmed down and was rolling open a portable knife kit. "Oliver, get your gay British ass over here. The cops are coming."

"Aw, but Mattie dear, can't you wait for me to finish preparing my ingredients?"

"No. And don't call me that [YI1] you bitch."

Oliver's eyes twinkled. "Swear jar, Matt!"

"Fuck you."

"Two dollars! That adds up to thirty dollars! I'm on a roll today! I might be able to buy that new mixer I've been wanting!"

Matt sighed. "Ugh, well I'm going in. Have fun with your silly knife fest." Oliver perked up.

"They're already inside?"

"Yep. You took real long dragging that girl here. It doesn't take five hours to lure someone in."

"Now hold on just a diddly darn minu-"

"No."

"Ok, fine. Let's go."

With that, Oliver rolled his knife kit up, stuffed what was left of the girl into a body bag, stood up, and straightened his tie. Matt had already entered the house. He walked to the door, knocked a little rhythm, and entered.

"Hello, poppets! I'm home!"

Ah, so there's the first chapter! I hope I didn't waste any of your precious time scrolling for a new fanfic. Like I said before, please leave any questions/comments/corrections you need to tell me about! I really appreciate it.

[YI1]