Sam-Chan: I was reading some creepypastas, and was struck by this idea.. Sí, this is another multi-chapter fanfic, but I'll get another chapter for this, OK. So don't worry y'all!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or the creepypastas I read.

Prologue:

In this world... This world, that has changed. Most say for the better; they stay in blissful ignorance for only a few know the truth; the truth they have been hiding all these eons. This isn't real, they aren't real. It's all an illusion, a perfect lie that was made to fool us all. But, there are many; they are strong, they know the truth, they know how to identify the liars. Those, they struggle in one thing... to survive... So be careful where you stand, or you might be shaking hands with the bane of all existence.

Guanettríco is a city with two sides.

One is called Tríco, meaning Prospering House. While the other is called Guanet, meaning Abandon Soul. In Tríco, everything is beatiful. The colors, the lights. Everything is rich, including the people. In Guanet, it's opposite. It's a dull gray almost everyday, though an invisible sun still lingers. The people who live there are few, since even the old, sick and poor wouldn't dream of stepping foot there.

For Ivan Braginski, he wouldn't dream of being anywhere else.

Since, he knows.

He found out a while ago, in his second year of high school. Something was odd about the people, something was odd about the town. Something was wrong.

He had just arrived to his home where his mother, father and two sisters were waitng for him. They seemed completely normal, acting the same way he would expect them to act. Doing the same things he would expect them to do... He didn't know the exact time he found out, but somehow he figured out something was terribly wrong. That evening, he packed all the things he would need in his backpack to leave. Things like his: books, cell phone, money and some clothes. He also took his pocket knife and the scarf his older sister had made for him years ago. As his family began to wash up for dinner, he made a simple excuse, saying he was going to spend the night at a friend's house. Of course, this worked, and tell told him to be back in the morning. He ran down the stairs, and before he left, took all the kitchen knifes and carefully put them in his backpack.

After he made it outside the house, he casually walked out the neighborhood, knowing he was being watched at all angles. When he made it to the main road, he pretended to be going somewhere until it became dark. That's when he starting running. He didn't stop and now he didn't care who saw him, since they couldn't who he was. He kept running till he couldn't run any longer, finding himself quite far from the delightful city he once thought of as home and instead by a dull, old set of bulidings, that contrasted with the new and beautiful ones of Tríco. Surveying the bulidings, he finally settle with hiding in one of the smallest, most dull and old looking of the bulidings. After trying to pick the lock for almost a minute, he finally got the door to open. He locked it behind him, just in case anyone was following, and began to explore.

"Shit..." he muttered. He had forgotten to bring a flashlight, though some parts of the buliding were lit up by the moonlight. Looking through his bag, he found two packs of matches, which he was grateful his parents hadn't found. Striking one of the matches, he was able to get a quick glimpse of the old buliding, that proved to be useful. Fifteen used later matches later, he located a box full of scented candles, and tried his best to stuff as many in his backpack as he could. With a candle to light up his path way, he saw that the buliding had a series of floors, all containing apartment complexes.

Waves of paranoia hit him, saying it wouldn't be safe on any of the top floors, and so he decended lower and lower, until he reached basement level, where most of all the doors were made from a strong steel. And lots of the suplies were stored. He picked a room on the left of a long hallway. He picked the lock and found himself in a prison cell looking room. With no windows whatsoever. For him, it was better that way. It would be hard for anyone to find him. He put his things down and laid on the cheap-looking bed, that felt the way it looked. He couldn't help but feel wide open, that something could get him any moment. He couldn't shake the feeling away, and his thoughts only made everything worst.

What if they find out? What will you do? Where will you go? They might find you! What will happen if they find you? If they get you! You're doomed! You're doomed! They're going to find you! They're going to take you away!

"Shut...shut up!" he said aloud to his thoughts. They didn't stop, but they did become quieter. The teenage boy could only sigh. He was worried, but at the same time he knew this was the right thing to do. There was no time for questioning, right? No time for missing people who aren't real, right? No time for missing a lie, right? No time for thinking about his 'family'...right?

He...he had made the right choice. H-he couldn't have stayed there. T-this was his new home. He had to live with his decision. There was no turning back...right?

Ivan fell into a restless sleep, the only real sleep he would have for days, and weeks and months, and eventually, years.

Ivan Braginski woke up from his 'rest' of three whole minutes. He got up a took out his pipe —something he had picked up in his many months of being in this tiny apartment. He surveyed the room, alert to any noise he heard. When he could find nothing, he silently made it to the bathroom, where he looked in the damaged, partly cracked, cheap mirror, which informed him that his hair was now neck length. He inwardly shruged it off, and began brushing his teeth with a toothbrush he made himself. After spitting out gunks of multiple things into the sink, he heard a noise.

"Ivan! It's us! Please let us in! Ivan!"

He shook his head and the noise stopped. It wasn't them, they weren't themselves, it was just a figure of his imagination. They couldn't have found him. It wasn't possible.

"Ivan! It's been so long! Please let us in!"

"No! Stop! Go away! Go away! Leave me alone! Get out of my head!" he screamed.

They couldn't be here. It wasn't possible.

The voices continued, stating precious memories of Ivan's past and asking to come in. The almost eighteen year old was reduced to getting on his kness and covering his ears, trying to shut out the voices. He stayed like that for almost fifteen minutes. When the voices finally stopped, he sat down on the bathroom floor, clutching his legs close to his chest, burying himself in his scarf, the only thing he had left of his real family. He felt tears bubbling up in his chest, but he couldn't cry. It would only hurt him futher, giving the voices another plan to use against him. He in the bathroom for most of the day, rocking back and forth, telling himself everything was going to be okay, when he heard a voice.

"Hello! Help! Someone! Please! They're after me! They took my friends! Help! Someone! They're coming to get me! Someone...please help me.." was what the voice said. At first Ivan thought it was fake, but when he heard pounding on the door, he knew something was out there. For the first few minutes, a war was going on in Ivan's mind, debating whether or not he should open the door.

It could be them, disguising themselves in the form of someone they had taken. One part of his mind thought.

Or it could be another like him, running from the same enemy. Thought the other part.

Whatever they thought, it was Ivan's choice. A choice he couldn't regret. He made his way out the bathroom, walked towards the door leading to the outside, and opened it...

Sam-Chan:Cliffhanger! So, what did you guys think? Don't worry everyone! I'll try to update soon! TRY being the key word XD But, yeah, I'll definitely try hard. Until then, hasta luego todos!

Note: The city name is fictional, and is not a word in any language as far as a know of..