Ivan eats cheerfully from the small dish he's holding, savoring every bite that he takes.

"What are you doing?" Arthur races in, trying to catch him before it's too late. "Don't eat that!"

"Why not?" Russia asks innocently, still chewing innocently. There's only about a bite of it left.

"You're eating the bloody fourth wall!" Arthur panics.

Ivan glances downward at the food in his dish. "Oh, is that what this is?" he frowns. Shrugging, he finishes that last bite, leaving the dish entirely empty. Arthur pales.

"Ivan, y-you can't just—"

"Why not?" Ivan smiles. And then he glances out at you.

Of course, you know that he doesn't really glance out at you. After all, this is just a fanfiction you found. Besides, this character isn't even real! So you smile a bit as you read those words, imagining him glancing out beyond the screen, knowing it could never happen.

"I'll be right back," Ivan grins, placing the dish on the table. He walks out of the living room.

Arthur swallows, pacing the living room floor. "Bloody hell…" he mutters. "I should never have left that where anyone could find it… oh damn…" He stares out at you, a look of horror on his face. "He's right behind you!" You find this new twist intriguing. Now, you supposed, the fanfiction would have an entire plot line devoted to Ivan loose in the real world.

You suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. Without much thought you turn to answer whoever it was; most likely, it was the person next to you, or perhaps someone walked in and needed something.

"Privet," whispers a voice that sends shivers down your spine. Your eyes widen in horror.

No, you think frantically. This can't be… he can't be… he's just an anime character! You continue to deny this, even as you turn the rest of the way around and see him standing there. He grins darkly, sending shivers racing up and down your spine.

It can't be him, you still find yourself thinking desperately. He's not real. Maybe it's a friend playing a trick on you. Still, none of your friends had that recognizable nose. None of your friends were quite that tall. None of your friends knew just how to smile quite that creepily while still maintaining an innocent air.

"We can be friends," he decides, taking his hand off of your shoulder and reaching somewhere within the depths of his coat. "…da…?"

There is no refusing him. You know that. So, slowly, fearfully, you nod, hoping that somehow, he can go back into his story, they can rebuild that wall, and you can pretend that it never happened.

Only you know that you'll never be able to, because he's standing right there, he's grinning at you. "Why don't we play a little game I invented, da?"

Hastily, you nod again, unable to refuse. Your heart seizes up when he pulls out a gun. "It's called Russian roulette," he explains, spinning the chamber. As it settles, he points the gun at you. "Playing is very easy."

The last thing you hear is the sound of the gun going off.