The wind howled through the halls of the World Meeting building, sending chills down the spines of all who were indoors at the time. The bitter cold of the October air disturbed everyone, raising the hair on the back of their necks. Had someone left a window open somewhere? Maybe someone had opened the door. No matter the cause, the result was unsettling.
The wind wisped about the meeting hall, carrying papers about and tossing them of the large table in the center of the room that all had been gathered by. Some escaping stationary was swiftly caught, a hand slamming down upon them. The blonde man hurriedly straightened the papers and set them back down, setting a small paper weight on top of them. He sighed in relief before noticing that he hasn't the only one with this particular dilemma. A few others who weren't quick enough were scattered about retrieving their documents.
"Sorry about this, guys!" The blonde addressed the whole assembly, "Maybe we should wrap this meeting up for today, and pick it back up after this draft gets fixed." Everyone nodded in agreement and packed up their belongings. As everyone left, the blonde scratched his head as he watched the condensation outside the window slide down the pane, generally bothered.
"Hey, Alfred," spoke a quiet voice, "Everything alright?" The blonde turned to see the other, and flashed an assuring grin.
"Yeah, I'm fine!" He said. He patted the quiet man on the shoulder. "Why don't we go to McDonald's or something, your treat?" They both laughed, but there was a subtle uneasiness in the air, that no one could place.
There were only seven attendees remaining in the hall by the time everyone had left. Whether they had papers to pick up, or just lingered behind, they all had stayed the extra minute, and had all begun to converse.
There was Alfred F. Jones, the blonde, heading the meeting and hailing from the United States of America; Matthew Williams, Alfred's younger brother, quiet and from the country of Canada; Arthur Kirkland, the man with the superb eyebrows from the United Kingdom; Kiku Honda, the composed man from Japan; Ivan Braginsky, the tall man from Russia; Basch Zwingli from Switzerland, and Wang Yao, from China.
Basch crawled about on the floor of the hall, searching underneath chair after chair, searching, for something. The Japanese gentleman, Kiku, approached the Swiss.
"Are you looking for something?" he asked politely.
"Yeah, I'm looking for a purple ribbon. It fell out of my sister's hair before we left, and she's waiting and in the parking lot for me." He said, not once, removing himself from the narrow space from which he crawled. Kiku handed him something from his pocket, a small bow ribbon.
"I found this not long ago. Here."
"Oh, thanks!" Basch took the ribbon and dashed out of the room, obviously in a rush to meet back with his younger sister. Kiku then returned to sorting the remainder of his papers.
Arthur, Matthew, and Alfred had all be chatting by the window, mainly discussing the terrible draft. They were soon joined by Yao.
"Seriously, Alfred, this place is nearly in shambles," Arthur spat, "You need to take better care of your buildings here!" Alfred laughed and stepped back from the angry Briton.
"I'd love to have the draft fixed, but I just can't seem to find it. I've been spending the last few days searching for the darn thing, but I just can't seem to figure out where it is."
"Hey, guys," Yao piped in, "Why are all of you still hanging around here, let's go get something to eat." Alfred lit up at the suggestion.
"Sure, if you don't mind paying! I was gonna get Mattie here to buy something for me, but since you're offering—"Alfred was cut off by Arthur, scolding him for trying to weasel money from Yao. Matthew also spoke to Al about his insistence on him being the one to pay all this time. Still in his chair, Ivan had been watching the four converse, laughing at the comedy of the situation. Ivan had not had the trouble of loose papers, but he always liked to leave last from these sorts of meetings, just out of curiosity of what the other members had to say afterword. Once the four had begun leaving, Ivan decided it was also time to leave. On their way out, Arthur noticed Kiku still arranging his papers. He joined him.
"Kiku, are you still sorting your papers?" the Briton asked. He then noticed the separate piles of papers strewn across the table. "What's all this?" he inquired.
"Those are papers that were left behind. This pile here is papers from the group of Nordics. This pile is Feliciano's. I believe, these are Antonio's papers-"
"Kiku, it's alright, you don't have to sort this much all by yourself. I'll take care of this all when I return tomorrow. Just leave it all in the shelf." Kiku was pleased by the gesture, and bowed to Arthur.
"Thank you, Arthur-san." Together, they put all the papers in the shelf, and exited into the hallway. In the corridor, though, they were greeted by a breathless Matthew. He looked as though he had just run a marathon. He was slumped over, his hands on his knees, gasping for air. Arthur walked up to him, worried.
"Matthew, are you alright?" he asked, with Kiku not far behind him. Arthur bent down closer to the shaken Matthew. The Canadian lifted his head, his breathing heavy and his eyes wide. He wiped some escaping saliva from the edge of his mouth with the sleeve of his suit.
"I-I... I didn't see-" Matthew muttered. Arthur stooped closer and held onto the poor man's shoulders.
"Mattie, boy, what happened?"
"I... I never saw what happened... But, Al told me to come get you... I think I saw something, but it couldn't possibly be..." Matthew shook, then stood up, propping himself up against the wall. He pointed in an indiscernible direction down the hall. "In the parking lot... I'll catch up in a minute... go." He wheezed. Arthur hesitantly followed his orders, followed by Kiku. They hurried down the stairs and raced out the door into the foggy parking lot.
Arthur went to Alfred's side, and asked what all the commotion was about. But before he was answered, he saw it.
It was Basch, kneeling down on the ground, holding something in his arms with considerable grip. He moaned in sadness, which was unlike him. Arthur looked around at the others who were outside with them. Yao was sitting on the pavement, knees held close, and a bewildered look frozen on his face. Ivan was shocked, too, but it was hard to tell, since his face was mildly covered by the thick fog. Arthur knew something was gravely wrong, but he couldn't imagine what had happened. He inched toward Basch, and when no one halted him, he approached the boy. He could hear the muttered cry of, "Lilli... my poor Lilli..."
Coddled in Basch's arms was the cold, lifeless body of his poor little sister, skin ice white, who had been waiting for him after the meeting. Arthur backed up slightly, frightened by the terrible sight. Basch continued to sob quietly, and hold the girl tighter in his arms; Arthur feared she would break under his grip. Arthur looked back at Alfred, who was currently dialling emergency services, and at Kiku, who was looking about curiously, unable to see the incident through the fog from the distance where he was standing.
Arthur had never imagined this would ever happen, and frankly, neither did anyone else.
Note 1: I'm naming everyone by their human names, making them human, and thus susceptible to death.
Note 2: Switzerland's human name Basch Zwingli is the correct translation of his name.
Hope you all like my story so far! More to come eventually! LOL