Ayyyyyy guys, it's me! DIOC! And bringing a one-shot with me! The ending is kind cliff-hanger-y, so if ya want me ta continue, review! I love reviews! :D

Be careful, though. 'Liechtenstein' is 2p!Liechtenstein. 'Switzerland' is 2p!Switzerland. 'Austria' is 2p!Austria. Oh, and 2p!Vatican City is the only person I could think of being cruel to Switzy, because in our world, if Vatican City was cannon, she/he would have been friends with Switzerland. Just check up on their history.

I have a head cannon that 2p!Italy can draw really well, but is extremely embarrassed of his talent.

If you don't get anything at the beginning of the story, I hope you'll get everything at the END.

I NO OWN HETARIA OR 2PTARIA. I OWN ONLY MY SEMI-OC, 2P LIECHTENSTEIN, AND MY RANDOM MADE-UP CHARACTER, 2P! VATICAN CITY.


Dear diary,

Today, Austria told me I was too cruel to Switzerland. Like, what the hell?

I treat him quite alright, thank you very much! I gave that punk

what he deserved after that, but now I'm thinking it over.

Am I really cruel to Switzy? I know, he's an extremely f***ed up guy who

has wanted to be treated like the king of the freaking universe

ever since his foot hit the soil of this planet.

What's wrong with me? F***ing Austria.

Don't get me wrong, diary, because I still hate you with burning passion and

the only reason why I write in your stupid pages is because

old Switzy asked me ta.

Oh wait, that's not much of a reason. See? Switzerland and Austria have corrupted me.

Hell.

I'm thinking that, tomorrow, I'll give Mister Punk a very special gift

for his nice little compliment.

With lots of hatred,

Liechtenstein.


Liechtenstein slammed her diary- journal! -shut and shoved her pen into her pencil case, grumbling under her breath. Why the heck had she agreed to do this little 'activity'? Oh, right. Switzerland thought it would help with her so-called 'anger issues', which she did not have, thank you very much.

It was late at night, but Liechtenstein, like the rest of the countries, almost never slept, so she decided to continue learning to juggle. Of course, she didn't use colourful balls- she was too original for that.

She used butter knives.

There is one particular thing you must know about Liechtenstein- she's an extremely bad juggler, though her aim is very sharp and she had a talent with guns. She threw a knife in the air, then caught it, then threw it up again, this time throwing another knife after that one.

She continued, adding on knives. When she tried catching them, she usually missed. However, on her sixth knife, she held her hand too near to her body and the knife pierced her hand. It stung a little as she pulled it out, and she threw the knife away, a bored look on her face. Then she examined her wound with interest.

The knife had managed to pierce through her whole hand, which was very impressive, considering it was a butter knife. Okay, so it was an extra-sharp one, but Liechtenstein was very proud of her little knife. She searched for the knife she had just thrown away and retrieved it from under the bed.

She cleaned it with a rag, as it was still bloody, and placed it carefully on her desk, behind a book. Not bothering to treat her wounded hand, which was still bleeding, Liechtenstein flopped onto the bed and grabbed another book, starting to read it. Her dark red blood seeped into the pages, which absorbed it, turning it red.

Liechtenstein made a disgusted sound and placed that book where she had gotten it. There was no use staining the book until it couldn't be read anymore. So she snatched up a piece of paper, grabbed a pen (with the hand that wasn't wounded) and started to draw.

Liechtenstein had amazing artistic skills, just like Italy, but she preferred to not brag about it. She sketched her first drawing quite fast, then traced over it with marker and added some details. She finished it, and smiled a little, looking at her so-called 'masterpiece'.

You want to know what she drew, you say? Well, she drew a human's digestive system. I know. Lovely, is it not?

The female nation cocked her head, looking at it from different angles, then decided to colour it. Though not many people could make use of one colour pencil, the way Liechtenstein coloured her artwork made it look like a professional had did it for her.

The bad thing was, her colour pencil was now extremely short and was almost unable to be used. She gave an exasperated sigh, chucking the colour pencil into the mini trashcan in her room. She was sorry to see it go. After all, it was the colour red, the colour of blood.

Speaking of blood, Liechtenstein's wounds had healed already. Though it wasn't such a big deal, she stabbed her self at least two times a day, just because she got bored. Her attention spans were extremely short, which meant she got bored really often.

Although the wound had stopped bleeding, there was blood stains on her bed and blood all over the room. She decided to clean up, mopping the floor with the mop she had stolen from England (who had gladly let her take it) and dealt with the stains on the bed by pouring water on it.

The water came from her water bottle, which she rarely drank from. She then took the rag which she had used to clean the butter knife to scrub it, hard. Though there still were stains on the bed, they were less noticeable, and they looked much brighter red. Not pink, though.

Liechtenstein completely despised that colour.

It was so girly and weak and- and- Liechtenstein shuddered just by thinking go it.

The door creaked open.

Liechtenstein instinctively dashed to her desk, snatched up the knife behind the book and threw it at the door with was opening. Since the person who had opened the door was fast and had dashed into the room, he slammed the door shut and ducked. The knife hit the place where his head had been a second ago.

"Vhat d'ya vant?" snarled Liechtenstein, glaring at the intruder- her oh-so-kind 'brother', Switzerland. The one who picked and lost the most number of fights.

Switzerland held up his hands in a surrender, a bright smile on his face. "Hey, don't get so upset! Getting upset so often vill make jou have vrinkles!" he said, laughing (in Liechtenstein's opinion) idiotically.

"Like hell I'm vorried about getting vrinkles! And vat's up vith speaking all zhis English? Vhat happened to jou speaking German?!" Liechtenstein retorted, turning her head away. Speaking English gave her a headache. German was much easier for her, but sadly, it wasn't the 'universal language'. English was.

Switzerland laughed again and offered her another idiotic smile than made her want to smack him. "Vhy not? I like hearing jou speak in English. Jour accent is different from the ozher Germanic nations'" he replied, and his reply was dumb in Liechtenstein's opinion. Her accent was exactly the same!

Instead of speaking what she thought (which she could have done without regrets), however, Liechtenstein only glared. "Vhat is jour purpose in coming into mein room?" she demanded, eyes flashing.

Switzerland wasn't one to be intimidated, however. Well, at least, not by Liechtenstein. He was too used to her insult and glares, which he probably took as teases. Stupid dense Swiss man. He was the worst. Why the heck did he never get mad at her, seriously!?

"I felt like it. Vhen are jou going to start calling jourself Liesl Zwingli and not Liesl Vogel?" Switzerland had asked that question almost a million times already. When was he ever going to give up, that stubborn b*stard? When was the fact that Liechtenstein was not going to change her name getting into his head?

Currently, the said girl rolled her eyes. "Jou are so persistent. I am Liechtenstein, Liesl Vogel, and not Liesl Zwingli," she huffed and placed her hands on her hips. Most people would get scared and scurried away, but, unfortunately for Liechtenstein, Switzerland was not 'most people'.

Liechtenstein wondered why Switzerland ever bothered to stay in the same house she was in. He had the money to get another house and lead a new, Liechtenstein-free life. But he insisted on staying. When Liechtenstein first moved in, he seemed unsure to whether he should let her stay in... but after he had glimpsed the other world's Liechtenstein, he had been persuaded that 'his' Liechtenstein could be as sweet and as kind as her.

And that was, of course, completely, utterly impossible, to her.

Liechtenstein was not sweet. Liechtenstein was not kind. Liechtenstein did not like pink and girly-ness. Liechtenstein did not wear cute dresses with bows and collars. Liechtenstein was cold. Liechtenstein was ruthless. Liechtenstein was cruel and almost always merciless. Liechtenstein was almost untouchable.

The other Liechtenstein was kind and loved her older brother. This Liechtenstein did not even have an older brother.

Liechtenstein snatched up a knife and used the sharp end to poke Switzerland, making a bead of blood form on his cheek. "Go avay, if zhat is zhe only thing jou vant to do here. I don't have an older brother, I have already told you that many times!" she hissed.

Switzerland looked hurt and offended, but went out of the room. The teenage-looking girl sighed in relief. Finally. But she wondered why he had looked hurt. It wasn't like she had insulted him or anything.

Since she was so bored, she decided to try to sleep. Sleep was not very wise, as you would never know if some weird country would come jumping into your room and murder you, but even the nations (who could stay awake 24/7 for at least a week) had to sleep. Liechtenstein pulled out the hairbands from her two braids.

Since she hadn't slept for quite a while, Liechtenstein had forgotten something- She would forget any ideas or plans of violence and revenge she had that week. Which was not very handy.

But Liechtenstein didn't know that, so she went to bed and fell asleep after half an hour, forgetting her plan to rip Austria into shreds, which was good for him, but not so good for Liechtenstein. Or maybe it was good. But anyways, she forgot. And that was the only thing that mattered.


The next day, Liechtenstein woke up quite late- at 10 o'clock AM, in fact. She blinked blearily, not used to seeing so much light after sleeping. She usually slept until 6 to 7 am, when the sun wasn't so sigh. But she had overslept 3 hours...? Maybe that was what she got for not sleeping so much as a wink for three weeks?

The girl gave a sigh, running her fingers through her long (but messy), light brown hair. Her fingers fumbled to tie her braids, and they worked clumsily, though they managed to braid her tangled hair. Liechtenstein turned to the mirror to check her appearance.

That was arrogant, yes, but was there a single living being who wasn't the slightest bit arrogant or selfish? Liechtenstein wasn't aiming to look 'fabulous' or 'beautiful' or 'pretty', but 'presentable'.

She wondered where to go to eat her breakfast. Definitely not to a country whose personification hated her, which narrowed it down quite a lot. Not that she was scared, but that she was extremely cranky after getting out of bed, so she tried not to pick that much fights so... um... early in the day.

She decided to go to England. Surprise, surprise! England would not mind at all, and he was the obvious choice. The others were Switzerland, Hungary, Belgium, Germany, Japan and Italy. No way was she going to Switzerland, and Hungary and Belgium wore too much pink. She had been visiting Germany and Japan quite often lately and was getting bored. Italy... well, Romano was the personification of 'fashion'.

Liechtenstein was definitely sure she did not want to get a make up session.

Getting to England was faster than she expected, maybe because she usually went there at 8 am, and it was currently around 10 15. She chose some random place to eat, not caring if she had been there before. And she had. Luckily, she had brought some English money (pounds and pennies) so she could pay.

Now, earlier I mentioned that Liechtenstein had an extremely short attention span. It was true, but if there was one thing that could get her attention easily was talk about the nations.

Unlike the other world, the world Liechtenstein lived in had humans that knew about the countries, or nations' existence. Though most of them had never met their country, they knew he or she was there. Some women liked to brag that they had met their country before, and had even been flirted with them.

Utter rubbish, in Liechtenstein's opinion. The only male nation who was flirty was Romano. And Romano always headed for men.

Liechtenstein had an excellent hearing, so it wasn't her fault that she overheard a conversation between a group of men. In fact, it was hard not to hear them. They were talking so loudly. The other customers of that restaurant were murmuring among themselves.

The men's conversation was as follows.

"Hey, ya know, yesterday, my wife told me she met the personification of France. Said he scared the sh*t outta her, being a creepy guy, ya know...?"

"Really, Andrew? How was France like? Did she tell ya?"

Andrew gave a barking laugh. Liechtenstein decided that she didn't like this guy at all. "Nope! But I'm not worried about him trying to steal her. After all, she said he was a creep. She's not gonna desert me anytime soon."

"Hey, have you guys met our country's personification? England?" another voice joined in.

"Nah. But I heard of him. A colourful guy, loves pink and blue, goes by Oliver. My friend who told me about him said he was kind and had a great sense of humour."

"Which friend?" this was Andrew.

"Marcus."

Andrew gave another laugh. "My friend, Marcus isn't a reliable source. He's an idiot, and he's always getting his facts mixed up. Is he sure that England was kind and funny?"

"Well... Yes..."

Liechtenstein paid attention to the murmurs. Some people were scolding this 'Andrew' under their breath for his rudeness. Others muttered that they would like to meet the personification of England. Still others wondered how England might look like.

Andrew spoke again, his voice sly. "What if he's actually a bitch and a rapist?"

That did it for Liechtenstein. As cruel as she was, she cared about her people, even though her people feared her. She may be a microstate, but her life depended on her people. The murmurs all changed to horrified whispers and gasps. Liechtenstein did the thing that came most naturally to her- picking a fight.

She slammed her hands down on the table, making a noise so loud everyone in the restaurant fell quiet and stared at her. She gritted her teeth and whipped around to face where this 'Andrew' was.

"Jou... dare... speak... bad... of... jour... COUNTRY?" she yelled, eyes flashing and glaring.

Andrew wasn't looking at her, when he smirked slightly. "What are ya gonna do, girlie?" he asked. Then he realised everyone was silent. After that, he did something he would regret for the rest of his life, which wouldn't be very long. He looked up.

And stared into cold, cruel, murderous, blood-lusting red eyes.

"Vhat am I going to do?" Liechtenstein asked, still glaring. She slowly pushed back her chair and pulled her jacket out and off, revealing the sniper gun which she had hid under her clothes. She cocked it dangerously, and smiled coldly, which made many people shiver.

She tilted her head. "Vhy, I am going to kill jou."

Andrew paled, but instead of running away, which any sensible person would do, he took out his own gun, and a knife, and called for 'his men' to back him up. 'His men' were smart. They didn't obey.

"You are a demon!" he yelled, hoping it would make Liechtenstein recoil. "I bet you've never had a boyfriend, have you, you ugly bitch?! Well, I have had lots of girlfriends! And I'm the star of the family! I bet you're family left you alone to struggle and suffer!"

That. Did. It.

No one insult Liechtenstein's family. NO ONE. Even though she hated them with burning passion... they did help her.

She stepped forward menacingly. "And? Do jou have anything else to say to me?" she asked. Andrew screamed a few more insults about how ugly she was. Then he said, 'No'.

Liechtenstein grinned. "Good," she said silkily. "Because jou've just insulted Liesl Zwingli, representative of Liechtenstein, the princess of zhis chess board."

Andrew gulped.

And got a bullet through his eye.

Then a bullet through his stomach. Then his other eye. Then his 'vital regions'. Then his chest. And finally, his throat. He was dead, and horrifically mangled, in less that five seconds. Liechtenstein calmly walked over to his body, and stepped on his chest.

"Now, do jou see vhat happens vhen jou insult the Germanic family?" she said, her voice smooth. "Jou get a special one-to-one with jour lovely princess."

Then she aimed her gun and shot a specific part of his head, making it explode. Bits of his head and skull flew everywhere, blood spurting out, and people shrieked and ran away, or covered their eyes, or both. But Liechtenstein just looked, smiling cruelly, enjoying seeing everything happening.

Because she was the lovely princess of the lovely kingdom. The ultimate murder weapon of the chessboard. She was Liechtenstein. And she was proud.

She started to walk away from the horrific scene, until someone caught her arm. She turned to see who it was. It was a woman, who looked terrified of her. Liechtenstein tilted her head. "Yes?" she asked, confused.

"M-miss Liechtenstein... I thought you might want to know... I heard that the personification of Vatican City plans to attack the personification of Switzerland at 12 midnight exactly tonight," the woman stammered. Liechtenstein rolled her eyes, and flicked the woman's hand off her arm.

"Zhat is none of my business," Liechtenstein replied, her anger not yet wasted. Andrew's death was awfully quick. "Mister Svitzerland is none of my concern. I couldn't care less!" She stomped away, planning to find some evil guy to use as target practice.

She heard a shock cry behind her, from the woman. "But you just defended you're family!" the woman yelled.

Liechtenstein rolled her eyes.


After a few hours, Liechtenstein found and murdered some random guy who called her country's people 'dumb and arrogant'. Okay, they might be arrogant, but they weren't dumb. She used him for target practice (with her knives) and decided that, as her blood lust was settled, to go back to her house.

She had to wash her bloodstained clothes, anyways.

She changed from a T-shirt and shorts to a long, plain white dress with a hole on its right sleeve. Since her world had no such thing as a 'washing machine' (or not yet, anyways), she had to hand wash all her clothes, which was boring and pointless. She decided to soak her shorts in soap/detergent/whatever you call it, and immediately started washing her shirt (which was plain white).

It was hard, because her white shirt had almost been completely drenched in blood. If her shirt would be dyed red just like that, Liechtenstein would have been able to just leave it stained. But once blood dried, it hardened and would make the shirt hard to wear.

Her shirt was already stained, so it was hard to wash the stains off, but Liechtenstein managed, since she had a couple of centuries' practice in washing clothes. The best way was to soak it first, but Liechtenstein was extremely impatient, so she scrubbed the shirt hard while soaking her shorts.

It took around an hour to wash all the stains off her shirt, and Liechtenstein set it out to dry. She went back inside, wanting to wash her shorts, then promptly decided against it. She didn't want to spend the whole day washing clothes. Though she did have nothing to do...

It was already around five thirty PM, and usually it was the time Liechtenstein would go to find some victims, but she had already done that in the morning/afternoon. She would have to find something else to do... but what?

Drawing? She had gotten bored of that. Reading? Bah. She had read all the books in the house. Killing? She wasn't in the mood. Eating? She wasn't hungry. Farming? She didn't even own a farm. Hunting? No thanks. Liechtenstein only killed humans. Not animals, unless she wanted to cook them. Which she didn't, at the moment.

So... What?

Liechtenstein sighed, picking up the nearest sharp thing and playing around with it. She dragged it across the wooden table, and made a mark. Suddenly, she froze. Then looked at the mark she made. Then looked back at her 'sharp object', which turned out to be a penknife.

It was like the one that stupid Singapore used. It was good for killing... and carving.

The girl hurried outside and stripped a few barks from a tree nearby, then rushed back into the house, extremely interested. She held the penknife in her hand, and started carving. It was hard work, and occasionally, she would cut herself, but it was interesting and cured her boredom, at least.

She carved many things. First, she carved in her human name- Liesl Vogel. Suddenly, she thought of Switzerland, that annoying b*stard. Liechtenstein could practically hear his voice telling her that her last name was 'Zwingli' and not 'Vogel'. She heaved a sigh. Even in her mind, he was bothering her.

Then she carved out the human names of the rest of the Germanic family (not including Germania). Gilen, Lutz, Voss, Roland. She started carving more and more names, including the name of her cute little 1p- Lilli.

When she had finished, all four pieces of bark were covered in names. Well... the last two barks and part of the second bark was covered with names of her 'unfortunate victims'... But it was still covered in names. This was how Liechtenstein found a new hobby- carving names in wood. Totally interesting, I know.

But Liechtenstein found it fun. Even a killer has hobbies not related to killing, or else the killer would not be a killer- he/she would be a psycho. And though all of the nations in her world were insane in some way, none of them were psychos.

She continued to carve, skipping dinner because she didn't really feel hungry. It wasn't like she was going to die if she skipped one meal. At 7 pm, Switzerland was not back yet, and that was the average time he would come back to bother 'his little sister', as he called it.

Liechtenstein didn't notice.

At 8 pm, he wasn't back yet. Liechtenstein took note of it, but brushed it off, assuming that he was drinking his heart out, the b*stard. He would have a horrible hangover the next day, and she would be the one dealing with it. Of course, she could just leave the house really early and leave him alone... but that was really low and cruel, even for her. (Or so she felt).

The Liechtensteiner expected the Swiss to be back at around 11 30, the normal time he got back from a bar. He wasn't the kind to sleep overnight at the bar. Switzerland had a very high tolerance for alcohol, so when he started feeling dizzy and his world started spinning, he would try to limit himself to three more bottles, then head home. (That's what he said.)

But as Liechtenstein had slept the night before, she didn't feel like sleeping this night. She went on to wash her shorts, since she had nothing to do, and when she looked at the clock, she realised it was 11 55 pm. It was rather later for Switzerland. Something was wrong.

Then she remembered. That lady at the restaurant had said that Vatican City would be attacking Switzerland at 12 midnight exactly.

Now, normally, if that attacker was someone else, Liechtenstein would ignore it and let Switzerland be attacked. But the 'attacker' was Little Miss Vatican. That one person Liechtenstein hated more than pink. The one Liechtenstein would like to stab over twenty times with a hunting knife.

This was her chance.

Okay... so she might be feeling that she should save Switzerland... but mostly, it was anger at Vatican. Not because she was going to attack Switzerland! But because she was that one person you absolutely had to hate, even though he/she never did anything to you... directly.

Vatican City was a complicated woman, and had been Switzerland's enemy since... forever. Somehow, that made Liechtenstein automatically hate her, and her hatred deepened once she had discovered Vatican's love for hot pink. (No offence to hot pink lovers!)

Liechtenstein grabbed a pack of hunting knives and a few daggers, and rushed to find Switzerland, wherever he was. Somehow, she knew exactly where. Thank god he wasn't in Vatican City. He was in his country, being lured away.

However, he was far inside his country, which complicated things quite a lot. Switzerland and Liechtenstein's house was right at the border... and Switzerland was a big country. It would take more than five minutes to get wherever that idiot was.

Switzerland probably wasn't armed, but Liechtenstein hoped that he would hold his own until she got there and beat the crap out of Vatican.


With Switzerland

The Swiss man stumbled around, trying to find which way to go. He had fallen asleep while drinking his heart out and had only just woken up, having a massive hangover. He really needed coffee.

Why was he drinking, you ask?

Switzerland had a long memory. Suddenly, once he was heading home, he had remember Liechtenstein's biting words: "I don't have an older brother, I have already told jou that many times!" They hurt. More than Switzerland let on. Sometimes, he wondered exactly why he decided to stay/let Liechtenstein stay in the house.

It was probably because he wanted a little sister... but Liechtenstein didn't treat him as an older brother. He didn't know why, though. He was fine with her being arrogant and scary, but he didn't really like being treated like a servant...

Anyways, the first thing he did when he tried to get over his hangover- following some lights, which he assumed were lights of houses. His vision was blurry as he kept stumbling. But he concentrated on following the lights. They were of many different colours... but most of them were either white or pale blue.

He stumbled forward, and turned around, looking for the light that had disappeared. He was at a corner? He turned right and started moving, since there was a light at the end of the lane... which he discovered was not a lane. It was an alleyway. A very dark one, I might add.

Before he knew it, he was trapped. He realised this just as he saw a female figure approach him. His eyes darkened. He recognised this woman- the one he hated, the one that Liechtenstein seemed to hate even more.

Vatican City. What was she doing?!

He heard Liechtenstein's voice chanting in his head. "Idiot! Can't jou see? It's obvious?!" He nearly smiled. He knew his 'little sister' so well. But the problem was Vatican. She was probably armed with guns and knives... and Switzerland had nothing except his bare hands. And he wasn't exactly very strong. He preferred guns.

"Hello, darling Switzerland~" Vatican purred, a slightly seductive yet dangerous smile spreading on her face. She toyed a silver knife that glinted in the moonlight. Switzerland internally gulped. This was not good. He made a break for it, but his head hurt like hell, so he couldn't run or walk very straight and kept bumping into walls. While Vatican was fast and nimble and definitely did not have a hangover.

She was in front of him in a flash, which made him back up. She kept moving forward, grinning maniacally, and Switzerland, seeing no other option, backed up. Her maniac smile looked more scary than Liechtenstein's menacing grin... more... psycho. It creeped Switzerland out.

He wasn't exactly taken by surprise when Vatican threw the first knife, so he was able to dodge it quite easily. The second knife and third knife followed quickly, and both were dodged. However, the fourth knife was buried in Switzerland's shoulder blade, and he bit his lip, trying not to squeal or squeak. Wincing, he pulled it out.

Luckily, he was a nation, so the wound healed fast, though it still hurt. It too more effort to dodge the woman's knives, and, occasionally, daggers. A few grazed his leg, and some even hit their mark. However, Switzerland always pulled them out. But instead of pocketing it, he flung it back at her.

His movement was so wild it completely missed Vatican, who looked disappointed. "Is that all you got?" she asked, mockingly. Switzerland gritted his teeth angrily, still backing up...

...Until he hit a dead end. His indigo eyes went wide with both surprise and fear. What was he going to do now?! The alleyway was narrow, so he couldn't run away without bumping into Vatican, who would definitely stab him. It wasn't worth it. Though he technically couldn't die... The idea of being stabbed wasn't very pleasing.

Unlike the Other Switzerland, This World's Switzerland wasn't very brave without a weapon. And Switzerland did not have a weapon.

Vatican smirked, walking forwards towards Switzerland, her hand out as if she wanted to help him. Switzerland didn't believe that for a moment. He knew the kinds of poisons she used to paint her fingernails with, and she probably hid needles under her nails. Even a simple handshake with Vatican City was deadly.

Switzerland suddenly lunged forward, taking Vatican by surprise, and he snatched at her belt, grabbed a knife... and promptly got pushed back. He landed on the ground with a thud, and he groaned. Grr... Why must his luck be so horrible. He needed someone to save him... and his pride would be damaged.

Yes, he did have some pride. Shocked? Don't be.

Liechtenstein would have said 'I was, too.' Switzerland wanted someone to rescue him or come across him and Vatican in that alleyway... But he would prefer for it not to be Liechtenstein. He wasn't sure whether she would help him or Vatican... or maybe she would kill both.

He would die either way... or would he? The idea of Liechtenstein helping him was highly unlikely... Almost impossible. Switzerland would settle for someone like Denmark or Netherlands to help him, or even Belgium or Hungary.

Back to the current situation. Switzerland, now that he had a weapon in his hand, felt much braver, and lifted the knife and pointed it at Vatican. "Don't jou dare!" he warned, though his voice wavered slightly. Of course, Vatican spotted it. She was a very observant woman by nature.

"You're scared, aren't you?" she said sweetly, her tone mocking. "No one is going to save you, and you know that as well as I do, right? Everyone hates you. They only pretend to like you, because getting along with you, has benefits. None of the Germanics would care if you got hurt, and if they did, it would be because they want you to help them with economical problems. I bet your little sister won't even care if you got hurt!"

She turned her head, a smile playing on her lips. "If I remembered correctly, she said she didn't even have an older brother," Vatican laughed, leaning down, so that her nose was close to the point of the knife. "You'd be better off dead, you know."

It did the trick. Switzerland's knife fell from his hand, clattering onto the ground, and his arm hung limply. Vatican moved forward, forcefully closing the slightly limp man's fingers over the fallen weapon. "Instead of me killing you," she whispered into the other man's ear, "Why not you take your own life...?"

Now, if a country gets 'killed' by another country, they would stay dead for around... five minutes at most. But if a country takes his or her own life, they would stay dead for at least a month. Three years, at most. Any other country from that world would be smart enough not to do that, because he/she would be taken advantage of. But Switzerland still had a horrible headache that made his thoughts go haywire.

Since he felt really, well, depressed... He thought that killing himself was a wonderful idea.

Vatican raised his hand for him, and positioned the tip of the blade at the base of Switzerland's throat. "Now push it in," she said, her eyes sparkling cruelly.

The Germanic country was about to do just that, when a little nagging voice at the back of his head (Liechtenstein) murmured, "Jou idiot. She's manipulating jou. Zhis is Vatican City who's asking jou to kill jourself. Only she vants you dead. Okay, maybe I cant jou dead, too."

It made him pause, hesitating. Maybe killing himself wasn't the best idea after all. A voice whispered in his ear, encouraging him to push the blade in... But he didn't. He was currently making one of the biggest decision in his life- Liechtenstein's advice, or Vatican's advice? Not dying seemed good. But dying seemed good as well.

Which one?

He didn't want to decide, and, miraculously, he didn't have to decided. Because a knife came flying at a surprisingly fast speed, and hit the ground next to Switzerland's hand with a twang. He whipped his head around and saw that Vatican had a cut on the lower part of her ear. The knife had cut her.

Vatican City's pink eyes were wide with shock, and she slowly spun around to see who it was. When she had turned around, Switzerland (whose view had been blocked) caught a glimpse of the hem of a white dress with a slight rip at the end. Only one country he knew had a dress like that.

One thought exploded in his head- What is she doing here?! She hates me!

"So-" a menacing, silky voice echoed off the walls of the alleyway. "Jou think jou could get off easily, trying to attack my brother?"

That word sounded so foreign when she said it... Suddenly, Switzerland froze. Did Liechtenstein just call him her brother?But in the morning, she said that she didn't have a brother... And as far as he knew, Liechtenstein never lied if she could help it.

Vatican obviously thought the same. "What do you mean, 'brother'? You don't have a brother, you said so yourself, this morning!" she retorted. She was obviously trying to Guilt Trap Liechtenstein. But Vatican never bothered to find out much of her enemy's siblings, so she didn't know the obvious- the world 'guilt' was not in Liechtenstein's dictionary, and it would never be there.

However, Vatican's question was a good one.

Switzerland expected Liechtenstein's smile to vanish or something, but the smaller, teenage-looking girl walked forward calmly, pointing a large, three-inch long hunting knife at Vatican's throat. "I said I didn't have an elder brother, jou stalker," Liechtenstein gave the two a her signature superior and cocky smile, an air of smugness around her. Then she next said some magic words.

"Switzerland is younger zhan me."


Dear Diary,

Good grief! Now I know why Switzy looked so insulted when I

said I didn't have an older brother yesterday night! Seriously,

he dared to forget that I am older than him! Maybe

its because he looks older than me? Or because the Other him is older

than the Other me? That piece of scheiße!

Anyway, I mangled Vatican pretty badly, and made her kill herself.

She deserved it, Diary. At least I didn't rip her tendons out.

Believe it, I was contemplating if I should.

Oh, and one last thing. Somehow, Switzerland got through me and managed

to convince me to change my name to Liesl Vogel-Zwingli...

What has happened?

With lots of hatred,

Liechtenstein.

PS: I'm ONLY doing this for Switzerland. I hate you with burning passion.


Hello again, Diary,

It's been a long time since I wrote in you, huh? But since the first

thing Liesl did when she got back was scribble in that little book I gave her,

I decided to start writing, too. I really hope that Liesl never finds this book.

She'll get angry that I called her Liesl and not Liechtenstein.

Hey- get this! Liesl's actually older than me! I didn't even know that!

Now that my headache's gone, i no longer feel like killing myself.

I now feel like killing Vatican, but Liesl did that for me. Which reminds me,

I haven't thanked her yet. She's gone back to speaking German,

but I'd rather her speak English. Her accent's nice.

Do you know what she did to Vatican City? She started stabbing her with that huge hunting

knife of hers! I counted twenty times. The bad/good part was that

she didn't stab the parts where it could kill Vatican, so after all the stabbing,

Vatican was still alive! Then she did this creepy, soothing manipulating voice

and convinced Vatican to take her own life. Scary, isn't she?

Oh, remember, earlier I've wondered why I ever stayed with that crazy

girl. Now I know why. It isn't because I wanted a little sister, like I had thought

earlier on. I remember, on the first day when Liesl came to stay, that I

admitted that Liesl probably wouldn't treat me well. But after that incident at midnight,

I was reminded of that time BEFORE I let her stay. I let her stay/stayed with her

because I had known she could be sweet and kind. And she is!

In her own cold, ferocious, menacing way, that is.

With lots of weird feelings,

Voss Zwingli, Representative of Switzerland.

PS: Did you know that I actually got Liesl to change her last name? It's Vogel-Zwingli now!


Aaaaaaaaaaand, that's the end! :D I told you, its kinda cliff hanger-y. But this will be a one-shot for now. I bet you weren't expecting Switzerland's POV or Diary, were you? Hahaha!

Review, guys! This is my longest one-shot EVER.

PS: I hope you ship 2p!Swissliech at least a little now.

PPS: If ya wanna understand that 'Princess' thing and the 'Liechtenstein is Older Than Switzerland' thing, read my other story, A Nation's Magic. Chapter 10 and 12 should explain everything! ;)