America wasn't particularly the vengeful type. I mean come on; he's the hero after all! Of course he and England had prank wars all the time but it was usually tame. Woo pie cushions, hand buzzers that sort of thing. But when England switched his power point with slides with the words "British Colony" scrawled over them along with a few embarrassing childhood photos, he couldn't take this lying down!

The self proclaimed hero though, was having no luck in his conquest for vengeance. Breaking into his house was one thing, but finding out what to do was another. Fill his teabags full of rocks? No, too conspicuous. Draw moustaches on all of the dolls in England's porcelain doll collection? He sighed. As much as he wanted revenge, doing that would probably provoke a response from England so dangerous that America shuddered to think about it.

He leaned on the pristine bookcase that England owned. Next thing he knew, he was a crumpled heap on a cobblestone floor after falling a flight of stairs. Despite such a cliché secret room, America couldn't help but feel excited. He was a hero and an adventurer after all!

Fixing Texas back onto his face (which sustained no apparent damage despite him face palming onto the ground) he surveyed the room. The room was immaculately clean, as were all of the other rooms in England's house and the floor was completely covered with what looked like a summoning circle. Stepping around said circle (he didn't believe in magic one bit mind you) he wandered through the array of cases that lined the walls.

There were all sorts of things on the cases. Flasks, bottles filled with strangely coloured fluids but what caught his eye was the small tome resting on the worn wooden table that was hugging the cold smooth walls of the room. Quickly snatching it up, he started to flip through it with a mad grin on his face. Could this be England's diary? He wouldn't put it past him to keep one. The man does embroidery after all!

Flipping through the pages, these didn't look like diary entries. America furrowed his brow. All he could see were weird runes and writing in some ancient language he couldn't discern. His eyes landed on a phrase that was the only legible thing in the entire book. "What the hell? "He muttered. "Eritis abscondita ultra." He said slowly, pronouncing the words with utmost care.

The runes on the page started to glow a pale blue and the light temporarily blinded the American. Dropping the book and stumbling back a bit, he rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. His gaze steadily focused and what he saw made his blood freeze. A lethargic black translucent mass with a mask in the corner was watching him.

Screaming, the blonde raced out of the room, up the stairs and back into the living room in a time that would put the world's fastest man to shame. Hunching over and leaning on the wall next to the secret passageway, he started to hyperventilate. What the fuck was that THING? He heard the door knob rattle and once again he was in a state of panic.

England couldn't back already could he? Eyes darting around, he found the closest window, dove out of it. He jumped out over the fence to avoid being caught and ran down a few streets before reaching his car. Leaving out front would be stupid. As he raced through the rainy London streets he thought about that, that thing. What was it!? God he was going to have nightmares about this for weeks!

Parking outside, he briskly walked to his suite. He immediately collapsed onto his bed and closed his eyes. He'll go to sleep, wake up and go to the world meeting like nothing ever happened. Feeling some dust fall on his face, he wiped it off without opening his eyes. More landed on his face. Man his hotel room was dirty he thought to himself.

"Open your eyes you git!" his eyes immediately snapped open and he raised his body. In front of him was a… a… fai- no. He refused to believe these things existed.

"W-what are you?" The nation wanted to sound assertive but instead came across dumbstruck.

"What does it look like you yank? I'm a fairy!" The "fairy" burst out, its livid red eyes staring at him with great intensity.

"But fairies aren't real." He answered back sounding as if he was trying to convince himself.

The hovering orange haired being pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look. I don't want to be here, and you obviously don't want to believe in us but since you recited that spell I am bound to you. Got it?" The thing still held its fierce gaze at the bewildered nation.

Spell? Fairies? This couldn't be real! England must have known he was coming and created and elaborate holograms to scare him off. Japan must have been involved in this too. Smiling knowingly, he laid his head onto the pillow and closed his eyes. He needed to recuperate his strength for tomorrow. The world needed ALL of his awesome tomorrow to recuperate from that embarrassing display today!

"Hey! Don-"The fairy tried to speak but the blue eyed man simply slapped a pair of headphones on and repeatedly chanted "la-la-la! I can't hear you!" The fairy huffed irritably and vanished in a light puff of pixie dusk. Soon, the nation fell asleep to the loud music the blared through his headphone (god knows how he does it) and drifted off to sleep.

He was so getting Japan and England for this!

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