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If you support or don't mind them however...
LET THE MULTICHAPTER CRAZINESS BEGIN!
This is my first fanfic so please dont bash! I'm open to suggestions!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia OR HetaOni in any way, shape, or form...if I did UsUk, RoChu, Franada, PruHun, Spamano, PolLiet, AusSwitz, and DenNor would be cannon, and GerIta and SuFin would be living happily ever after.
"TALKING"
'THOUGHTS'
PRESENT TIME
FLASHBACKS
A black shape swiftly makes its way down an unkempt dirt road between what seemed to be a forest. The figure soon comes to a stop, crouching behind some trees that are surrounding a clearing at the end of the road trying to catch her breath. From what the cloaked figure could tell, it was the middle of the night, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary...even it looks like it belongs, just sitting there waiting patiently for itsnext victim or victims. The moonlight streams down through the trees surroundingit allowing the face of what looks like a young girl, between the ages of seventeen and nineteen, to appear for a few seconds but no longer. She stands from her hiding place and begins to once again press forward, but as she walks closer and closer to it however, she can just feel the evil coming from it. The mansion...her personal hell. She can already sense, despite being a couple hundred feet away and concealed by the edge of the forest, the horrid creatures that inhabit the mansion staringat her. Just staring. Waiting for her to come back and accept her fate of the bloody death she was supposed to receive two years ago. She sighs...had it really already been two years? She really hadn't meant to make them wait for a whole two years, but she had to make sure she was ready. She had to make sure she is strong enough to protect herself, so they won't have to risk their lives for her. To her it seems like she just escaped and foolishly came back the next day to try and make things right. She lets out a dry laugh loud enough for only her to hear. I mean, who in their right mind would come back to hell of their own free will after just barely escaping the first time? However, she knows she has to go back no matter how scared she is. She has to save her friends...and...right her wrongs. Of course if you ask anyone else if she did anything wrong when she was thrown into that situation, they would say no. However, they aren't the ones who have to live with this guilt. Every day she feels it...the gnawing guilt of letting her friends die and not trying to do more to help them or prevent it all together. It is eating her alive, taking away her sanity and common sense. The person, assumed to be a girl, shakes her head as if to clear it and steps into the clearing. The moonlight easily confirms she is a girl around eighteen. She stands at five feet, eight inches tall, an average height for most women her age. She has semi-curly strawberry blonde hair, and she has it pulled back in a ponytail that goes down to the middle of her back. Her right eye is a rich shade of sapphire blue but seems dulled from being clouded by fear and nervousness. Her left eye is almost completely covered by side swept bangs, but gaps show a clouded light blue eye and a faded scar that runs diagonally from her eyebrow to her cheek bone. Unlike her other eye there is no emotion in it, just a blank stare that is forced to move with its right counterpart; a dead giveaway that she is blind in that one eye. Square-shaped glasses with rounded corners and thin black rims framing only the bottom of the lenses sit snuggly on the bridge of her nose. Her skin is extremely pale and dry, and there is no color in her cheeks despite the cold. However, the growing fear in her stomach can be a contributing factor, making her skin more pale than it already is. She is the only one who knew it wasn't always that way. If you knew her before that day two years ago, you would say she had sun kissed skin with perfect complexion. Now that is simply a dream and her body is littered with scars of all shapes and sizes. She eventually began to convince herself that none of those happy memories she had from before were real. Her body is thin enough to the point you can say she's underweight. She wears brown flight goggles with clear lenses on her head and two black bobby pins pinned on each side of the goggles, connecting the straps to her hair to keep it from falling off, for it is a little oversized. Hanging loosely around her neck are two necklaces; they are molded to depict the shape of a cross and are black with silver outlining. Her shirt is a simple baggy white tank top that cuts off just above the belly button with a large faded tomato stain splattered across the front of it. She can't help but let out a small laugh at the memory of how she got it...fucking tomato bastard.
'Oh...my...god...I'm starting to sound like him!' she mentally screams as she pinches the bridge of her nose above her glasses in slight annoyance. She begins repeatedly kicking herself mentally. Of course she starts talking like the one person she didn't get along with...fucking tomato bastard number two. Over her stained shirt, she wears an oversized bomber jacket with a big, white fifty on the back; from the size you can tell it used to belong to a male and probably one that gorged himself on fattening, greasy food judging by the grease stains that seems to have invaded the entire front of it. She has the sleeves of the jacket rolled up to just above her elbows to reveal a black fingerless glove on each hand. Sitting snuggly around her neck over both necklaces and the collar of the jacket is a white scarf, which almost hits the ground, even though it is wrapped around her neck quite a few times since it belonged to a much taller male before. For pants she wears short light blue shorts that are just long enough with a brown belt and matching overalls attached to them. She rarely ever uses the overalls so they almost always lay at her sides lifelessly as they are now. White thigh-high socks hug her legs comfortably, and black and white converse complete the look. The shoelaces are tucked in as a safety precaution, because she wouldn't, and couldn't stand for loose or untied shoelaces when she is getting involved with something so dangerous. It is just a little pet peeve she adopted during her stay in hell. Resting lightly on her back is a katana with a black handle and some gold in places, the sword itself only able to stay on her back due to a matching cover with an over-the-shoulder strap that the previous owner custom made. She hugs two books, both resembling a bible, close to her chest. One book has an intricate, complicated pattern on the cover of it, and the other is a plain red. She opens the book that has the pattern on it and flips to what most would think is a random page, but to her it isn't. To her it is her lifeline. The only thing that will keep her safe when she steps through the gates to get to the mansion. In order to accomplish the first part of her mission, she will have to stand in the yard belonging to the mansion which is in their territory. If she doesn't stand within the mansions limits, the protection spell she will cast will go to waste, and the next thing she will do won't even work, because that place seems to be its own damned dimension. She sets the book down on the ground next to her and firmly grabs the katana that is resting on her back, quickly unsheathing it. Putting the sword to her palm, she takes a deep breath and slices her hand, hissing through her teeth at the pain. She growls at the blood that is left on the sword and hastily wipes it off. She hates seeing that sword with blood on it, after all it used to belong to a peaceful and kind man. She places it back in its cover where it belongs until she is stuck in a situation where she will be forced to fight. As she leans down, she places the book on the ground allowing her to see the pattern and begin tracing it with her blood. She has to remind herself that this is the only way to make things right and see the people she learned to call family once again. As she is finishing up, she groans as she begins to grow dizzy from the blood loss but simply blinks as much drowsiness as she can away and finally completes the mysterious design, quickly placing her uninjured hand over the other to try and ease the bleeding. As soon as she thinks the bleeding stopped enough for her to keep from passing out, she begin chanting a tune, strange to most ears but soothing and familiar to hers.
"Santo rita mita meada ringo jonah tito marlon jack la toya janet michael dumbledora the explorer santo rita mita meada ringo jonah tito marlon jack la toya janet michael dumbledora the explorer!"
The pattern goes from a dark blood red to a bright cherry red as it begins to glow, responding to the ominous chant she just preformed. Suddenly the light consumes her and as quickly as it came, it disappears. When the light completely disappears, nothing appears to be changed, however the spell actually created a barrier around her so anything that tries to attack her will be held back but only for a minute. Knowing full well what has to be done, she picks both books up again and holds them securely. She takes one more deep, calming breath and not even a second after she exhales, she sprints full speed towards the gate forcing it open with her body weight and the force from the momentum of her body. As soon as she makes it past the gate and into the yard, she is immediately greeted by the mansions inhabitants. She stops only a few feet inside the things territory, and quickly pulls out the plain red book. She opens the simple cover of the book and sees the simple, yet crucial thing that sealed hisfate to watch hisfriends die countless times.
This Journal Belongs To:
She sharply inhales as she remembers when his name was written on that line in his own blood. He threw all hishappiness and sanity away just to save his friends...his family...now it is her turn. She snaps out of her little trance and forcefully lets out the breath she was subconsciously holding. She roughly breathes in and out trying to get oxygen back into her lungs, but still scolds herself under her breath at how she let a small thing like that strike an emotional blow against her. She is stronger than that. That was what a year of her training was solely dedicated to! To prevent emotional blows like that from getting in the way of her promise. To prevent them from threatening the fulfillment of her life goal...she would rather die and burn in hell for the rest of eternity than not see something she had swore on her life to accomplish, come true. She gasps and her head whips up to look at her surroundings when she hears loud, obnoxious banging right where her ear is. She isn't surprised to see the things advancing towards her, and even less surprised to find the banging coming from one that is already trying to break its way through the barrier so it can kill her.
"yOu WiLl NoT eScApE!" it yells as she quickly cuts the tip of her finger on the edge of one of the pages in the book so she can complete her promise. She quickly lets a drop of her blood run down her finger, and it drips off before she can have a chance to think any second thoughts. The blood hits the page, and she watches, with a slightly uneasy feeling, her blood take a life of its own and shape into her adopted name. As soon as she sees it had worked, she lets a small smile and a few tears that have been waiting to be let out slide down her cheeks.
"TAKE ME BACK! TAKE ME BACK SO I CAN SAVE THOSE CLOSEST TO ME! I'VE COME THIS FAR ALL ON MY OWN! PLEASE! LET ME SAVE THEM! GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE! PLEASE!" she cries as loud as her throat will allow to what seemed to be the book. More tears fall as she shuts her eyes as tight as she can as she feels herself being disfigured. She hears the barrier around her break, and she whimpers knowing just what has broken it. Is she going to die before she even gets her second chance?
"DiE!" the thing screams again and raises its arm back to crush her tiny body with its massive hand and kill her once and for all. The girl lets out a terrified shriek as she opens her eyes and watches the hand fly towards her head with incredible speed, only for it to hit the ground and create a crater where she used to stand...
Somewhere inside what looks like a mansion, a girl with strawberry blonde hair smiles in her sleep as she peacefully lays on one of the beds that inhabits a giant room greatly resembling a small one story house...the first true smile ever to crawl its way onto her face since before that day two years ago. She did it...she successfully created another time loop and made it inside the mansion that turned her life upside down. Now the hardest test of her life will begin with the entrance of ten of the world's most famous nations of World War l and World War ll...
This Journal Belongs To:
_Samantha Ally Jones_
Samantha: Woo! The first chapter is finally done and published! Good work Nikky!
Nikky: Um...thanks but I don't think it's that good...and my name isn't Nikky it's Mar-
Samantha: Tay-sama she's refusing to admit how wonderful her writing is!
Tay-sama: Mar, stop being so negative! It's bad for your health...
Nikky/Mar: But it's true and my name isn't Mar nor is it Nikky! It's-
Samantha: Yeah Nikky stop being so negative!
Nikky/Mar: But-
Samantha: HAHAHAHA!
Tay-sama: Ok, so while they fight over the most random things, I would like to thank you for reading! Make sure to review and tell Mar how WONDERFUL her story is!
Samantha: And check out chapter 2 if you enjoyed the first chapter! The Axis will be introduced! HASTA LA PASTA!
Nikky/Mar: I feel like Canada...