And They All Die in the End – Chapter One: The Invisible One
Canada sat in his living room, petting his polar bear. He could never remember what the bear;s name was. Was it Kumatachi? Kumasaki?
The polar bear looked up at Canada and said, "Who're you?"
The country sighed. "I'm Canada. Matthew Williams."
The phone suddenly rang. Canada set his bear on the ground and stood up. "Hello, this is Matthew," he said as he picked up the phone.
"Yo dude!" Canada held the phone away from his ear. "The hero's coming over to your plave today, so be ready for my awesomeness!"
"O-okay," Canada said. His brother was always so loud; sometimes it frustrated him, but then he would remember: This is America. The world wouldn't be the same without his loud, somewhat obnoxious voice. "W-what time are you going to b-be here?"
"Dude, you just can't wait, can you? I'll be there in an hour, so don't worry! I'll be there soon, bro!"
America hung up. Canada sighed. "Kumasaburo, where are you?"
The bear looked up at him.
"We have to clean up the house. America's coming over."
Nodding, the polar bear plodded off to organize the room. Canada's house was actually very clean, and chances were that America wouldn't have cared whether the house was clean or not, but Canada still felt as though it was necessary to make his home spick and span.
Canada sighed. It had been a while since the last time America had visited him. In fact, it had been a while since anyone had visited him. He knew that the other countries had a tendency to forget about him, and he was used to it, but it still hurt.
He heard the door open then close. "A-America, you're early," Canada said. "Normally, when you say 'I'll b-be there s-soon,' it takes at l-least double the time you say…"
There was no reply.
Canada looked towards the door. Nobody was there, except Kumakichi, who was lying on the ground.
The country walked up to the polar bear. "Kumahiro, you shouldn't fall asleep on the ground, you could catch a cold…?" His eyes widened as he took a better look at the bear.
Kumakawa was bleeding extremely badly, from a wound that looked like a stab. He was breathing hard, obviously using up his last bursts of energy to live.
"No, no, no!" Canada shouted. "Relax, okay? I'll get some bandages –!"
The bear grasped his owner's hand, his paw already losing its warmth. "You're… Canada," he said, struggling to speak.
"Oh…" Canada's voice fell, shocked that the bear had finally remembered. "Yes, I'm Canada… Kumajirou."
Kumajirou closed his eyes and fell back. His paw, still held in Canada's hand, was deathly cold. His face could be described as peaceful, satisfied that in his final moments he had remembered Canada's name at last.
Canada choked and held the bear in a final hug. He wept, he tears falling onto Kumajirou's fur. Kumajirou was gone, now, and never to come back.
He heard footsteps behind him. He whirled around, still holding his bear, to face an unknown figure.
At first, he thought it was England, considering that the person was wearing a black cloak, but the hood was covering his head, which England disliked doing. In addition, he (Canada assumed this person was a "he", due to the person's height and posture) was wearing a mask that hid his face from view. The mask was painted messily, with paints of black, white, red, and gold. Where his mouth would be, the mask showed a mocking smile.
"You… did you kill Kumajirou?" Canada asked, voice trembling with fear and rage.
"The masked figure tilted his head to the side. His voice was electronic: "What if I said… yes?"
Canada screamed out his grief and anger, quickly putting Kumajirou on the ground and charging at the killer recklessly, without any sort of weapon.
Suddenly, Canada felt a pain in his heart. It felt as though he were burning from the inside. He tripped and landed on the floor, gasping for breath.
The killer knelt next to Canada, watching the country writhe in pain and claw at his heart. "That must be Ottawa, burning to the ground," the electronic voice said softly. "Looks like that match did work, after all." He leaned closer to Canada and whispered, "How does it feel to be killed, Matthew? How does it feel to die, and have your killer watch you slowly fade from existence?"
Matthew could hear the screams of the people living in Ottawa echoing in his ears. That was even more painful than the burning in his heart. "I will… murder you," he hissed, fury dripping from his voice.
An electronic laugh came from the mask. "Will you, Matthew?" The killer stood up, spreading his arms wide. "Go ahead and try," he challenged, still laughing.
Canada snapped, ignoring both the fire and the screams and charging at the masked figure again. He reached the killer, wrapping his hands around the other's neck and squeezing.
Another electronic chuckle, then Matthew felt a new pain erupt from his heart. He fell back, stumbling and grasping his chest. Blood covered the hand holding his chest, and then dripped to the floor.
"I'm surprised. You actually managed to get to me," the killer said, the electronic voice mocking. Matthew could see the killer holding a knife, covered in his blood. "No matter. I've won."
Canada glared at him silently, knowing there was no hope left. Unless… "Alfred," he said quietly.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" the masked figure inquired.
"Alfred should be here soon," Matthew said, slowly and clearly. "He'll help me. And he'll kill you."
Matthew swore he felt a tense silence, where the killer was frightened, worried that his victim might actually get out of this alive. But he recovered quickly. "You will have died by the time he gets here. As for me… I am satisfied with my work here." The killer watched Matthew for a moment, then walked to the door and left, disappearing into the outside world.
Matthew took a deep breath and dragged himself over to where Kumajirou was lying. He hugged the bear close, like he had done when he was but a colony, a child tucked in for bedtime.
"Good night, Kumajirou," he whispered into the bear's ear. "Sweet dreams. See you in the morning."
Matthew closed his eyes and smiled, snuggling into Kumajirou's fur. There, lying on the floor, holding Kumajirou like a teddy bear, Canada –Matthew Williams – passed into the void.
America chewed on his hamburger, holding the steering wheel in one hand and his burger in the other.
He had finally crossed the border between his country and Canada. Security was tighter than usual, he noticed. He was the only one allowed into Canada at that moment. He kept looking around, searching for a cause to the tight security.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of light. He turned to take a better look, but what he saw nearly made him crash into a barricade.
Ottawa was burning, flames licking at the buildings. America could hear the screams coming from the city. It all felt so surreal. The last time Ottawa had burned down, it was the work of America himself. It had given Canada a scar, and America didn't think it had gone yet.
Wait. Canada.
Canada.
America slammed on the gas pedal, not giving a crap that he was way past the speed limit. He had to make sure that his brother was okay.
Stop panicking, Alfred, he told himself. Mattie's strong. He'll be fine.
His car arrived at Matthew's home after what felt like ages. Alfred kicked open the car door, ran to Matthew's front porch, and knocked on the front door impatiently, hoping that his brother would come to the door.
There was no sign of movement. Alfred became frantic. He opened the door, which turned out to be unlocked, and looked around the house. The house was incredibly clean, like always. Then he looked at the floor. "No," he gasped.
Matthew was curled up on the floor, hugging Kumajirou close to him, in a puddle of their blood. "This can't be," Alfred said, rushing to his brother's side and shaking his shoulder. "Mattie, Mattie, please wake up."
Matthew fell toward Alfred limply, giving Alfred a complete view of the stab wound in his heart. Alfred backed away.
"No, no, please, no…" he cried. "Not Matthew…"
Alfred wiped his tears away and straightened his glasses. He took out his cell phone and punched in a number, pressing the phone to his ear.
"What do you want in this time of night, you git?" a familiar British accent demanded.
"Arthur, I need you to calm down and promise you won't scream like the girl you are when I tell you this," Alfred said seriously.
There was a pause. "First of all, I'm not a girl," Arthur said. "Secondly, you haven't called me Arthur since before the Revolution. What happened?"
Alfred took a deep breath. "Arthur…" he began. "Arthur, Mattie's dead."
Bwah, Xiang is back with a new fanfic! This is not based off of anything this time! It's Xiang's own imagination!
So, who is the killer? The possible people (who are either going to be the killer or be killed. I promise, the killer is in here): America, Austria, Canada (but he's dead), China, England, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Prussia, Romano, Russia, and Spain.
I do not own Hetalia. If I did… I have no idea what I'd do with it.
Reviews sound nice, so please review! And read my other stories too? Please?