Authors Note:
HAHA, hello~ 8| this is a fic that was screamed to be written at me. I love The Walking Dead & I love Hetalia: Axis Powers even more, soooo, why not combine the two into something amazing?
Obviously aspects of the storyline/characters are going to be changed so not everything will be EXACTLY the same cause if you are only reading the story for that... better off flipping on On Demand & watching the series episodes yourself. Uhm, fair warning THERE WILL BE PAIRINGS. Yes, cause I'm a fruit and totally picture romance happening during this whole shitstorm(jk~). I'll post the official pairings at a later date, though the three main's I'm leaning towards is America/Britain, Prussia/Austria & Germany/Italy.
|D
Anyways, this is just the prologue for future reference so shortness is to be expected. I'll have the first chapter up sometime this evening, or tomorrow morning~
Please r&r!
. . .
A typical call; drug paraphanelia being handed off between two street vendors in a deserted back-lot alley. It really wasn't too much to worry about; these two had been watched over for a few weeks now, and were not known to carry any weapons when in one-another's presence. A swap of the stash and then the two were bolting back down the alleyway, hoping to return to their crime-ridden lives-
"Halt, police! Don't move!"
They were stopped dead in their tracks at the chainlink fence near the end of the street. Shock was practically radiating from them. In front of them were three police officers; one was of tall height, very muscular with slicked-back blonde hair, another of medium height, thin with choppy almond hair, and what appeared to be an albino man, shorter than both and on the skinny side. All well armed, and pointing guns at the duo.
The street-goers bit their lips in agitation as the tallest yelled,
"Hands behind your head, now!"
...the two didn't move, which made the almond-haired man scream,
"Do it, now! Let me see your hands, and put them above your head, and walk slowly towards us! We will be forced to shoot unless you comply!"
Hell, this was a major drug-exchange for the two of them and they were well-armed, much to the police officer's utter disbelief, as they each began to draw a pistol from their pockets, but the officers were too quick for them.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
And a heavy 'fwump' was heard, followed by a clatter. The tall blonde man and the albino lowered their weapons as the third began to walk forwards, gun still drawn, to see if the two men laying on the ground, bleeding like stuck pigs, were truly deceased.
Alfred quickly found out.
Bang!
It seems as though one of the men was not quite dead yet, and fully-intended on taking an officer with him. The bullet went through the right-side of the man's chest, barely missing a fatal rip through his lung, instead seeming to bounce off of his ribcage, & fuming out the other side. He gasped, gripping at his chest as he fell to his knees, his face then slamming on its side against the hard concrete.
Everything began to blur at that point. Though he did distinctly remember Gilbert standing over him, hands pressed firmly to the wound, hoping that it would somehow stop the bleeding, his face distorted in a panic; another sound of a faint gurgling approached his ears - the sound of a death rattle. He knew it well; the other man was probably expired.
He choked for breath; Alfred felt like his lungs were filling to the brims with blood and he was choking hoarsely on the very air he survived off of.
Ludwig's mortified face was next, and then... everything faded to blackness, though he could have sworn he heard a soft whisper like wind brushing through the willow trees,
"Alfred, gods no..."
. . .
It was cold. So cold for it still being high-summer...
One blue eye quirked open, Alfred's whole body stiffening at the sudden sunlight that harshly bore down into his eye. He moaned with distress, and drew his hand up to rub his eye free of the pain.
Only...his hand felt constrained as he tried to draw it close; something was holding it back. How odd.
He furthered the already tedious task of opening his eyes, and double-folded it by opening both. The sunlight that was so-suddenly let in felt blinding. Giving a few moments to clear of the fuzzies and slowly get used to the light, the blonde gazed around him in non-disclosed shock.
He was in what appeared to be a hospital room; the all white gleam all-too familiar to him. He looked over to his arm, and saw a now-dry IV drip hooked up to his bloodstream. So, that was the bugger that was constraining him... hm, but why was it dry? A look to his other side revealed a bunch of rotting flowers in a cracked vase. Red roses, it looked like.
And of course, now Alfred had to question exactly what was going on.
As he tried to rise shaikly to his feet he almost immediately stumbled. Lack of nutrients and water in his system had made him very weak, and he now lay pressed against the cold tile floor, gasping in the air around him. His hands fumbled to the IV drip, and ripped the useless thing out of his flesh. With a few more attempts, he was finally right back onto his feet, and Alfred rubbed at the painful wound around his middle.
That's right...
The blonde thought to himself bitterly, as the rememberance of the gunshot wound slowly reformed into his brain. He held his side painfully, as he tediously began to limp towards the door, shoving it open with quite a bit of effort.
The hallways were completely deserted, supplies, trash, & what appeared to be excrements littered the floor. The lights flickered on & off in a very horror-film manner. Needless to say, Alfred was confused beyond belief. The man stumbled about the hallways for a ways, looking around every turn cautiously, half-expecting himself to wake up from some crazy dream, or for Gilbert and Ludwig to jump out, screaming "Surprise, happy april fools dude!". But that, of course, never happened.
As he neared a particularly trashed wing of the hospital, his bare-foot slid into something very wet, cold, and slightly-sticky. Alfred froze, looking downwards, only to jump back with a horrified gasp of disgust.
He had just stepped in the bloody remains of a now-dead nurse, her innards scattered about the whole wing, his foot now coated in her rotting crimson liquid.