Welcome to another example of some of my earlier Hetalia work. As of this edit, I have fixed some minor grammar mistakes and reworded some phrases. This isn't going to go anywhere, and please, please do not follow this story. Check out my Edgar Allan Poe assignment instead.


It was dark.

A looming shadow beamed, smiling innocently. It resembled Russia's, but filled with more pain. The shadow snarled. Why was it thinking about that weakling? He wasn't worth thinking about. A malicious sneer crossed its face, eyes narrowing.

You did a good job. That was only the beginning. The shadow was faithful, and would follow its master's words as carefully as a certain German Shepherd would obey its master. It was good that it was dead now.

It was nice that another trip to the oblivion provided it with information on how to destroy the ones that were already dead.

Dead dead dead, what a beautiful word!

The new one was a good idea, they welcomed it, the one trap that they loved the best. The Endless Hallway.

A few of its henchmen scuttled around its feet, talking in hushed tones.

That would be nice, master.


It was a nice autumn day outside, and the leaves were scattered throughout Berlin, skipping in the wind. Ludwig stared out the glass door, listening to the peaceful and constant rat-a-tat-tat of the freshly fallen leaves. He raised his cup and tipped his head backward, the taste and temperature of the coffee not bothering his dry lips. He was accustomed to visiting the small cafe with his favorite drink.

Ludwig tapped his foot impatiently, still waiting for his Italian friend to arrive. Where was Feliciano?

Finally, the door to the cafe swung open. A mighty gust of wind blasted into the small space, slightly chilly but still warm. Germany resisted the urge to smile. Feliciano was there. "Ciao, Germany!" the excited amber-eyed Italian exclaimed.

"Why are you so late?" Ludwig asked, eyeing him suspiciously. "Another pasta shop?"

"Pasta is delicious!", Feliciano exclaimed. Ludwig suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, and he winced, his hands flying to the pained spot. "Ludwig?"

"Feliciano, my head hurts very much. Go ask the waiter for ice water," he hissed quietly.

"Yes, Lud—"

"… Feliciano."

"Okay!" Feliciano said, as energetic as always. He bounded to the waiter as fast as he could, and brought him back.

But by the time he had returned, Ludwig was out cold. "Is your friend sleeping?" the waiter asked.

"No," Feliciano responded, his blood chilling slightly. Ludwig's eyes were completely blank, a dull blue color, almost like Japa—Kiku's… but they had images inside of them. In them, Feliciano was pretty sure he saw himself.

Then Ludwig's blue eyes turned completely blank again, like Ludwig was blind.


Ludwig wasn't 100 percent sure how he got there. One moment, he was clutching his head tightly, the next—

He studied his surroundings and found that he was in a hallway, and at the end of the hallway, there was a picture, or rather, a scene.

A light in front of him flickered, and it turned on to reveal a bruised and bloodied Feliciano. "Feliciano!" he called out, trying to run to his partner.

Feliciano groaned, shifting so that his back was facing Ludwig. "Lud…"

A hand grabbed the collar of his shirt, which pulled Germany backwards.

"Be careful, little country," it hissed. Ludwig felt like fainting—his lungs were deprived of oxygen, and the air was getting unpleasant to breathe in. The hand released his shirt, and Ludwig stumbled to regain balance. He began to run again. The light dimmed, and he could hear Feliciano panting and gasping.

He knew he was getting closer… but then, he tripped.

Do not fall

The words flashed in front of him, and Ludwig's eyes widened. His prison in the hall was no ordinary place. He felt the walls of the hallway, noting that they were closing in onto him. Ludwig clenched his teeth, and pushed the walls with all of his might. He would be feeling quite claustrophobic later on….

Remember the last time you fell? Do you remember? Do you remember all of the blood, and the hateful stares? Do you remember the truth?

His mind clouded slightly, and Ludwig stumbled around, trying to reach Feliciano. Finally, his foot met the small circular chamber, illuminated by a sliver of golden light. Some thousand feet above, a pebble fell. It hit the ground below and rolled off to a side. If it had hit Ludwig, it would have hurt.

Suddenly, a swooping shadow came out of nowhere, and dropped a shining silver dagger onto Feliciano.

"Feliciano!" Ludwig raced toward the oblivious man.

It happened too quick, it happened too slowly. Ludwig lunged for the dagger, hoping that it would be him instead of Feliciano.

But it was too late. The dagger fell, blood spurted everywhere, and Ludwig dropped to his knees, his hand landing on Feliciano's back.

Ludwig suddenly stiffened, a lump had made its way into his throat.

He shook Feliciano's limp and lifeless body, knowing that the heartbeat wouldn't be there. His heart beat for Feliciano's, it beat slightly faster than it was supposed to.

Ludwig was used to seeing many people die, but Feliciano was innocent. He may had made poor decisions as North Italy and killed many people, but Feliciano the human was innocent.

There were other innocent people out there, too.

From a young age, Ludwig taught himself that sacrifices needed to be made, and people were to die. Ludwig used to be a sensitive nation, but after he had experienced many wars, tears, and defeats (and Germania's scoldings, according to Prussia), Ludwig had finally understood that they were to stand stoic through horrid times.

Ludwig wanted to cry. But he couldn't.

Feliciano's dead body began to jerk up and down, and Ludwig closed his eyes, his face quickly heating up.


A sudden jolt of pain tore through his body. If Feliciano was dead over there… then… why was he alive here? Relief flew through his body as ran over to hug Feliciano tightly. If he were to be there any second longer, then he would feel dead himself.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano cried, diving for the taller nation. "I'm so sorry… Pr—Gilbert…"

"Wait, what about Gilbert?" Ludwig hadn't heard about his brother ever since... the incident.

"He..." Feliciano hesitated for a moment, and pulled Ludwig's large hands toward his smaller ones. "Gilbert died."

Ludwig blanched, his eyes widening. His brother? Gone? For good? Ludwig wasn't sure if he would meet Gilbert alive again (he hoped to), like the last death. If that was a fake. It felt so real.

"I'm sorry, Feliciano… please take me to the corpse."

If it were a dream, then he were to get out of it.