A/N: Another prompt I found in the kink meme; I was surprised because it wasn't as...kinky as the others. Truth be told, I wasn't sure if my story belonged over there, so I brought this chapter over to see how the readers here would judge. Apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.
Disclaimer: Hetalia Axis Powers and all its characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya
Chapter One
Always be watching, for tragedy befalls those who expect it the least…
"Will you stop eating hamburgers whenever I come to visit?"
America paused before biting into the unhealthy sandwich, relishing the combination of fried patty, crunchy lettuce, juicy tomato, sour pickle, and a plethora of sauce all within the soft buns. While chewing this mass of ingredients inside his mouth, he contemplated the demand for a minute; it was definitely more time than he normally gave to such comments. With a wide grin that caused both of his cheeks to bulge, America looked up at the disapproving nation and gave his reply.
"Sorry Canada. I got hungry while waiting for you, so I just couldn't help but grab one of these babies. After all, a hero needs to be in his best condition, not weakened because of an empty stomach."
Canada emitted a frustrated sigh and shook his head; the exceptionally long curl of his hair swayed along with the motion as he revealed his annoyance. "Don't you think you should be more alert? Given the current situation of the world I don't think it's wise to be so relaxed."
"Cut me some slack! I've been in the presence of my boss for the last month, and this is the first time in a while that I've had a break from serious mode." America gave a small pout and waved the half-eaten burger in front of Canada's face. "Besides, the world isn't in so much trouble that it needs constant attention. The other countries are putting in their contributions too, so I'm pretty sure that the global economy won't plummet in one afternoon."
"You shouldn't take such things for granted…"
"Oh lighten up."
Instead of answering, Canada drew Kumajirou closer to his chest; the white bear responded by shifting slightly, but was too busy trying to remember the identity of his master to protest. Canada knew that it was useless to continue the argument; it was like running on a treadmill: you can put in the extra effort but you will never go anywhere. In the end, his fellow nation would simply lose interest and forget about him. And if he disappeared off to the side, who knew when he would be noticed again? Deciding to change the subject, Canada moved his eyes around the foyer.
"It really looks like you've been gone for a while."
"Yeah, my boss wanted me to stay close while he handled the legislative issues. It was extremely boring but I certainly couldn't let him down."
"Of course." As personifications of the individual nations, they had a duty to protect their leaders, their people, for the survival of the countries.
"Now that I think about it, my fridge is probably empty!"
Canada gave him a look of disbelief. "You just ate."
"I'm still gonna go buy some groceries!"
"But I thought you wanted me to come over!"
America gave another grin and flashed a thumbs-up. "Don't worry, I'll be quick! Make yourself at home while I'm gone."
Before Canada could say any more, America walked to the entrance; without realizing his strength, he opened the door more than the necessary width. Sunlight poured in from the doorway, outshining the artificial lighting inside, and caused Canada to blink in order to adjust to the sudden change. Only when his vision focused was he able to view the outside. There was the same lawn he had seen while walking up to the house, the same flower-covered fence that indicated the edge of the summer home; a few people walked by casually, going about their business. Yet there was something wrong with the picture.
It was difficult to pinpoint at first, but Canada noticed that there was a dark figure within the boughs of an oak tree. At first, he dismissed it as a shadow, but the more he stared at it, the more discomfort he felt; one thing he knew for sure was that the thing was not human. The aura it emitted reminded him of England's creatures, but why would it be so far from home? As he continued to ponder this thought, he noticed that America was still next to him.
"Hey Canada, what is that thing?"
"Wait, you can see it? I thought you couldn't see England's summons."
America gave him a confused look. "You mean the illusions? Of course I can't."
"Then what is that?"
There was no time to answer. Without warning, the being leapt from the heights; with outstretched arms, it swooped down on an unsuspecting jogger heading in the opposite direction. Screams of anguish vibrated out of the man's throat as the creature sunk its claws into the flesh, preventing the man's escape. And for a split second, the two nations could do nothing but watch in horror at the scene.
The creature was slightly smaller than a normal adult yet larger than a child. Scales like a lizard's covered its body, which was a color similar to dried blood, and black stripes randomly marked its torso. Its hands and feet were curved like the talons of an eagle, though they looked as if they were dipped into black dye. It was so skinny that there was absolutely no fat on its body, but the taut muscles showed that it was not exactly weak. Its head could be described as that of a bird, except the entire head was covered with a contiguous layer of scales. And its eyes, there was no description to fully depict the emptiness in those pits of darkness. Overall, the appearance of the creature was enough to draw out revulsion.
Coming out of the stupor, America was first to react. Rushing across the lawn, he grasped the creature's neck and forced it off its victim; luckily, it had relaxed its grip when it felt the touch. With every ounce of strength he could muster America hurled the creature towards his house. Before it touched the ground, he reached under his jacket and felt the reassuring handle of his gun; he had vowed to never be without a firearm, not after that…incident. Pulling the weapon out of the shoulder holster, America began to fire shot after shot at the fallen creature, refusing to give it time to get up.
Meanwhile, Canada had run over to the jogger and helped him off the ground. The man had a few bleeding wounds, but the creature had been removed before serious harm had been done. But Canada was not one to take chances; he called over an onlooker and charged him with taking the victim to a hospital. As much as he wanted to do the task himself, Canada knew that he had to remain here. America was strong, but something told Canada that the creature should not be underestimated. Nodding to Kumajirou, who looked up at him from the ground, he quickly headed over to the other nation.
Other than a single pause to replace the magazine of the semi-automatic, America maintained a constant pattern in his shots. As he continued to attack the creature, he had to admit that it was difficult to aim with precision because of the short barrel, but there was no use in complaining. The pistol was light and portable, good for emergencies.
The air was filled with the sounds of the discharges, the sharp explosions ringing in their ears. Yet, both America and Canada could see that it was to no avail. Even though the bullets were hitting their marks, the creature began to pick itself off the ground. It showed no reaction to the shots, no indication of being in pain. Rather, it turned its blackened eyes to the two and almost looked as if it was waiting for the attack to end.
America finally ran out of ammunition, but the creature had not fallen. It looked even more grotesque with the depressions in its skin, for the bullets remained embedded in its body. But other than the slight physical alterations, the creature seemed to be intact. Releasing an unearthly shriek, it jumped into the air and aimed at the two nations. Reflex allowed them to avoid the attack, but the creature was not waiting for them counter. It ran on all fours, chasing after them with inhuman speed. Thinking about the potential harm it could cause, America realized that he had to protect his people.
"Canada! Run towards the house!"
America dashed ahead into the said building; Canada's frantic steps suggested that he was right behind. Unfortunately, he also heard a rhythm of clicks on the wooden floors, indicating the creature's proximity. Ignoring the sense of panic rising inside, America sprinted down the hallways without knowing his exact destination; instinct told him not to stop, told him to keep running. Still, curiosity caused him to take a peek behind. He wished he had not, for he saw that the creature was so close that it could technically reach out and grab the other nation.
Canada was aware of his predicament. An unexpected fear began to claim his heart as the creature's shrieks grew louder in his ears; it was a cold feeling that sunk inside his chest, making it even harder for him to breathe. Normal injuries would have little effect on someone like himself, but there was no doubt that the creature was not normal. For all he knew, it considered him to be its meal ticket.
With this thought in mind, Canada could not help but allow the tears of panic to leak out of his eyes; a few drops adhered to the inside of his glasses, most likely blurring his vision, but the likelihood of death spurred Canada on. All of the sudden, Kumajirou snarled, did a quick turn, and slammed its paw against the creatures face. Surprisingly, this action seemed to have more effect that the gunshots.
Screeching in pain, the creature stopped its pursuit and rolled on the ground; it clutched the sensitive area with one hand while scraping the floor with the other. The two nations took this time to catch their breaths, though both were also staring with shock at the polar bear. Canada had never seen Kumajirou in such a state. Its fur was ruffled, and it kept growling at the creature; a dangerous glint formed in its normally passive eyes. As impressive as this was, it only made Canada dread the creature more. After all, if it coaxed such a reaction from Kumajirou, it was probably a serious threat.
In an instant, the creature sprung up and grabbed the polar bear's leg; too surprised to respond in time, Kumajirou was helpless to prevent what happened next. Using an enormous amount of strength, the creature lifted Kumajirou off the ground and swung its arm in a full arc before releasing the bear in the direction of his master. The weight of the bear combined with the power from the throw was enough to knock Canada off his feet and send both into the air. America was not exempt from the creature's attack, as the two bodies collided into his front; whatever air he had managed to obtain was forced out of his lungs. All three were pushed back until they were met by a wall; the force from crash broke through the structure and formed a new opening in the hallway.
Groaning from the wave of pain smothering his body, America pulled himself out of the pile and painstakingly crawled away. It was bad that he had to get hit by a flying body. It was worse that he was also hit by a polar bear. Hot throbs pulsated in every fiber of his being; as the last of his energy drained away, he rested his back against an old chest.
Taking a quick look around, he realized that they had entered his storage room, a place he rarely visited in peaceful times. It contained too many memories, painful yet too precious to be thrown away. Dust particles floated in the air after being disturbed by their sudden entrance and tickled his eyes. He was almost pulled into the serene melancholy that surrounded this room, that is, before the creature appeared once again.
As it inched closer to Canada, America realized that he needed to act fast. Noticing that the chest was open, he reached inside and pulled out an old musket, wincing as his muscles protested against the new weight. He took no heed, opting to lift the weapon despite further discomfort; he aimed at the creature and, without knowing if the musket was loaded, gave a silent prayer before pulling the trigger.
A sound of thunder was followed by an immense shriek, both so loud that he almost clutched his ears. Looking past his weapon, America saw that the bullet had hit true and that a chunk of the creature's shoulder was missing; though no blood formed around the wound, the creature was obviously in pain. It turned its attention to the nation, and America swore that the black pits had somehow gotten darker, colder, as if he was staring in to the eyes of death.
In a furious rage, the creature bounded at the fallen nation, who cursed the fact that he now held an empty firearm; of course, his body had memorized the precise steps of loading a musket, but there was no time to follow through. Instead, he relied on the metal bayonet and thrust the weapon forward, feeling the vibration from the impact.
The claws were inches away from the edge of his glasses, but Texas was safe, unreachable to the creature. With a pitiful croak, it struggled against the bayonet before slowly pulling away; once the weapon was completely out of its chest, it collapsed to the ground. After twitching for a couple of seconds, the creature stilled and, before America's eyes, dissipated into black grains that mingled with the dusty air before completely disappearing.
America stared as if in trance, then moved his eyes to the musket. He studied the old weapon, until he saw the familiar scratch mark; it was the same musket he had used when he won independence from England over two hundred years ago. Why were it and Kumajirou the only things that could harm the creature?
When Canada finally stirred, America was still looking at the outdated firearm. The atmosphere of panic had been replaced with one of peace, but the sinking feeling of torment remained inside them. Because he did not have the strength to move Kumajirou off his body, Canada remained under the weight and peered at the other nation wearily. In a soft voice, hoarse from all the activity, he addressed his companion.
"What just happened?"
"…I have no idea…"
