I thought I was looking into a mirror, then I realized something was wrong...

The figure that stood in the mirror, wide sadistic grin and blood staining his clothes, stared menacingly at Italy. That wasn't right, he thought to himself. He slowly cocked his head to the left, and surely enough, his reflection followed. That terrifying grin never leaving his face as he did so. A chill ran down Italy's neck as his reflection's gaze intensified. A murderous gleam flashed behind them as the figure pointed behind itself. Like a cloud of smoke that suddenly lifted, Italy saw more clearly as to what he was pointing at... Or to whom he was pointing at.

Lying on the floor, eyes shut and clothes soaked in blood, was Germany. Italy clasped his hand over his mouth in shock as he choked out a sob. The figure in the mirror smirked wildly. How could he be me? Italy thought so terrified to himself. He looked the same, build-wise. His hair was the same colour, and all his features were like Italy's... Except those features were warped by insanity and a cloud by psychopathic desires. His eyes were a deep violet and his uniform was a different colour entirely. That wasn't what frightened Italy. No, it wasn't that. What did frighten the red-head was the knife that the figure wielded. The blood that gleamed on the knife was surely Germany's and that very thought brought tears to the Italian's eyes.

"Who are you?!" Italy screamed at the mirror. The figure's smirk never faded as he leaned closer to Italy.

"Your worst nightmare." he said in a hiss-like whisper. Suddenly an arm came out of the mirror and grasped Italy's neck. A choked scream was torn from his throat as Italy desperately tried to claw the hand away. The grip tightened and Italy felt his breath getting shorter and shorter. The figure's smirk grew as Italy tried to scream again.

"Ger...ma...ny!" Italy said through his gasps for air. Everything began to fade away to nothingness as Italy felt strong hands grasping him. His body was being shaken as his surroundings went to black.

"Italy...!" a gruff voice shouted. "Italy!"

The red-head jolted upwards with a sudden scream. His breaths were fast and unsteady as he noticed his hands were shaking. Italy's entire body was trembling, and he believed he had a good reason to be. The owner of the strong hands sat up and placed his hands on the Italian's shoulders; forcing Italy to look into his eyes.

Germany had wide eyes as he held the shaken Italian out at arm's length. "Italy..." his voice was husky with panic. "What's wrong?" seeing Italy scared was something Germany absolutely hated. Tears streamed down the red-head's cheek and Germany felt a ping hit his heart. It truly upset Germany when he saw Italy cry like this. The Italian's eyes were glazed and his face housed a hauntingly distant expression.

"Germany..." he said, barely a whisper. The red-head threw himself into Germany's arms, holding on tight to the one he thought was dead.

By this time, Germany was more than a little worried. It may have been his overly-protective heart, but something told him that Italy was scared for a good reason. Normally, the little red-head would curl up next to Germany and sleep happily. He would mumble little things under his breath, like 'pasta', with the sweetest of smiles adorning his face. Not only was his expression contorted by pain and fear, but Italy was screaming. Actually screaming. A blood curling scream. It pained Germany when he heard that, when he saw the twisted look of agony on Italy's face. His Italy was in pain...

Germany held the terrified nation close to him, in an effort to ease the fear, when he felt wet drops hitting his bare shoulder. "Italy, its okay... It was just a nightmare." he stated in a hushed whisper right into Italy's ear. It only calmed him a bit. When he felt a little more composed, Italy sat back and tried wiping away his tears.

"...B-But it seemed so real." Italy said, his voice hoarse from the tightness in his throat.

"What happened?" Germany asked gently, wiping away a fresh tear that began to fall.

Italy looked up with a horrified expression, an expression that Germany thought never belonged on his sweet face. "I-I killed you." Germany had a double take then cocked his head slightly. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but Italy jumped in. "B-But it wasn't me! H-He looked like me... but I wouldn't- Germany, please don't be mad!" Italy rambled as he began to think Germany would be angry with him. Germany shook his head with a sigh.

"Why would I be mad, Italy? It was just some dream. Ja?" The Italian nodded slowly and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"But Germany. It was terrible! I was looking into a mirror, and my reflection wasn't me! He... He... He killed you... then he tried to kill me. His hand came right through the glass, as if it wasn't even there!" Italy was extremely frantic and scared as he explained the whole thing. The German nodded thoughtfully, suddenly wanting to find and kill whoever tried to harm Italy.

"It's okay now, Italy. I won't let him touch you. I'm here." The Italian smiled through his tears and hugged Germany tightly.

"Thank you!" he chirped happily. The two then laid back down and slowly drifted back to sleep. Germany made sure to keep Italy in his arms at all times. He didn't want to go through what happened again. He didn't want Italy to get hurt. Italy fell asleep before Germany, and he snuggled close against the blonde. Germany stroked Italy's hair as he stayed awake and watched over the little red-head. Slowly, sleep over took him two and for the rest of the night it was peaceful.

The next morning, Italy awoke with a sudden jerk. It was really cold all of a sudden. Deciding it was time to wake up anyway, the red-head stretched his back and hopped off the bed. Germany was already done, probably out jogging. The sleepy Italian dragged himself over to the bathroom and stood over the sink. He placed his hands on either side of the sink and rested for a moment. The water he splashed on his face woke him up slightly as he looked up to the mirror. He was nervous for a second, afraid of seeing that... thing again. However, his own reflection looked back at him. Innocent and completely himself.

"Ha, I'm so paranoid. It was just a dream, remember?" he said to himself out loud.

"It wasn't just a dream, cretino." Italy's head snapped up to the mirror. Standing in the spot of where his reflective was a few seconds ago, stood the wicked figure from the night before with his signature smirk plastered on his face.

"It's you!" Italy gasped in horror.

"No shit." He said nastily. Italy took a few steps back with slow, unsteady movements. The thing laughed. The sound wasn't pleasant but it rung throughout the empty house. "I wouldn't do that..." He said mockingly in a sing-song like tone.

A black, deformed creature dashed out from behind the wall and darted across the room. Italy realized he was still staring into the mirror and threw his head behind him to look out for that black creature. It was nowhere to be seen. As he turned back to the mirror the figure, which looked frightening alike to Italy, stood with a condescending smirk.

"Così stupido..."He remarked with a shake of his head. "I should be there, not you." Before Italy could ask what he meant, he was gone and his original reflection returned. Italy couldn't stand it anymore. He dashed out to the kitchen, away from the mirror, and away from... from... his reflection? Oh, I don't know! Italy mentally cried out in frustration. I have to get away from him...

Germany came home an hour or so later, and Italy decided to keep what had happened earlier to himself. He didn't want Germany to think he had gone insane. As hard as Italy tried to be happy, he couldn't. To be honest, he was too freaked out. Multiple times, Italy tried to convince himself it was just some mind trick of some sort. Sadly, that voice in the back of his head knew better. Something was wrong... What just exactly what was it?