Okay! This is my very first Holy Roman Empire fanfiction! Pleaaaasse review it, tell me if I should continue because at this point I'm not sure.
Also, so you all don't get confused, Diederik is the name I gave HRE. It means "Ruler of the people". I thought it fit xD
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!
Warning: Language
He can't breathe…it's dark. It's unnaturally cold, so cold it burned his skin. Skeletons of the deceased clawed at him, he could feel their bony fingers scraping his arms. They all wanted him to join them, to turn into the same jagged structures they had become. He did not want to…he couldn't!
Terrified, Diederik ripped himself away from the groping hands, leaving tears in his skin. The rips slowly started spreading, covering his upper arms and making their way about his chest. It hurt, oh it hurt. He couldn't seem to stop himself from running, his legs just kept moving. The black…it was swallowing him. It was so thick, he could see his own reflection in it. Running alongside him, completely parallel, completely identical.
No…it wasn't. Diederik slowed his pace, stopping to stare at the other form. However, it kept evading his eyes. When he was certain it was in one spot, and flicked his orbs to it, it would jump out of reach and hide in his peripheral vision. His breath showed itself under the cloak of a small white puff, teasing him by disappearing into the black he had come to fear.
"Diederik!" A voice called. He didn't recognize it, but at the same time it was overwhelmingly familiar. "Diederik!" It called again. It sounded terrified, lonely and Diederik couldn't help but call back.
"Who are you?!" He asked it, the words being consumed in this pit of nothing.
He waited.
And waited.
But the only reply was silence.
What was wrong with this? He didn't know where he was…who that voice belonged to…when he could leave this place. The silence was nibbling at his sanity, and he rubbed his numb ears in a vain attempt to rid it.
Like a knife, one single, drawn-out scream pierced the quiet. Immediately, he wished it back; the scream was so anguished… Making the decision on the fly, he began running. Whether it was toward the scream, or away from the scream, he did not know. The only thing he knew of was running, to keep moving before the tendrils of insanity took root inside his soul. The scream did not diminish or grow louder, it just continued.
As if it was in his own head.
Suddenly, a figure hunched on the ground appeared before him. The scream stopped the moment he saw it, but the uneasiness continued to eat at him. He couldn't make out any details other than the fact it was small. It seemed to be crying, judging from the fact it's shoulders kept bouncing.
"He-hello?" Diederik asked uncertainly.
It looked up, and he felt bile rise in his throat.
Instead of a face, he saw a bloody mass of muscle and bone.
Resisting the urge to yell, Diederik stepped back. The thing got up and began to walk to him shakily.
"Why?" It asked, the voice a carbon-copy to the one he had heard earlier. The only difference was that this version sounded choked, like some sort of liquid blocked it's throat off, "Why would you do this to me?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" He shouted at it, not wanting it to take a step further. He whirled around, ready to run for his life.
He stopped in his tracks. Now, there was a boy in front of him. This boy looked to be fifteen, two years younger than Diederik himself. He was wearing brown trousers that stopped at his calves, and a green shirt hung from his shoulders, obviously much too big. He had a small, slight figure, and auburn hair. His eyes were gold…but they were lowered to an intimidating glare.
"Tell me why!" He demanded, his voice low and dark, but still the same as what Diederik had been previously hearing.
"What? What did I do?" Diederik asked, trying to fight back hysteria. He closed his eyes for a millisecond, and when he opened them the boy was right there. His expression was different. It didn't look so much angry as it did pained.
"I don't want to be alone anymore…"
Diederik woke up immediately, all memory of the horribly disturbing dream being vacuumed from his mind. In this, he was left with a vague feeling of discomfort. The likes had been happening for weeks now, these unsalvageable dreams that visited him within the night.
He lifted himself from the sweat-soaked bed, ready to get a head-start on his busy day.
You see, he had an empire to rule.
"Feli, get up," Lovino's hushed command flooded the younger's comprehension, however slight it was. Feliciano Vargas had been sleeping.
"Wh-what is it, fratello?" Feliciano questioned a little too loudly, for he was hushed by his brother and a hand was smacked around his mouth. Almost blindingly fast, Lovino picked up his younger brother and ushered him under the bed they were sleeping on.
"What's going on?" He asked again, but was answered by Lovino placing a finger to his lips and crawling under as well.
"The Prussian bastards are back," Lovino explained in a tone so low, Feliciano had to struggle to hear.
The Prussians. They were a part of the growing Holy Roman Empire, and they stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. The small Italian boys' parents, for a reason they did not know of, were not on the favorable side of the Empire. They had to move from home to home just to keep out of reach, to stay safe.
"Are they in the house?" Feliciano asked in a tone similar to Lovino's.
Lovino nodded, "They're speaking to Papa right now."
Feliciano felt a poison thorn of fear strike his heart, sure to blister. But it was alright, it was okay. His father would fix everything, just as he had done in the past. Feli closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of both his and his brothers entwined breathing. A false sense of safety disguised itself in the Italian's heart, right where the potential venom was sitting dormant. As long as he had Lovino, and his father was handling the situation, then things would be okay.
Things were quiet for a while, until voices rose from the main room of their small house.
"I told you, I don't know!" That was the voice of his father.
"We tire of lies, old man," Feliciano did not recognize this voice, "Just give it to us!" A loud, muffled thudding sound could be heard, along with a grunt.
"Michael!" Their mother shrieked.
"You wench! Tell us where it is, that's all we ask!"
"We don't have it! How many times-" A startling sound of a deep snapping indisputable as the sound of breaking bones made its presence known. Feliciano whimpered, and Lovino tightened his arms around his younger brother.
"No! Jacquelyn!" Their father yelled, Feli had never heard such anguish in a persons voice before... "You bastards!"
"As we said before, we tire of lies!" This voice was new, "Tell us or join your ugly bitch in Hell!"
Their father stayed silent, and a foreign chuckle rumbled through the house.
"Fine, have it your way."
Nobody could miss the sound of sliding steel, and a weird noise as if someone sliced open a bag of mud.
But Feliciano knew better than that. In an act of habit, his hand closed around a jewel hanging from his neck. As far as he knew, it was a silly cheap play-piece that children could get. He didn't know why he still had it, it was given to him by his grandfather. In a way, the boy felt safer when he had it on. As if his grandfather was still with him.
"Go," The first voice commanded, "They have two kids, we'll just take them back to the house."
"Yes sir."
Feliciano's feeling of safety uncloaked itself, revealing it to be another thorn of terror. It stabbed into the existing wound countless times, and made him clutch to his brother. In turn, Lovino held him back. They would not harm his fratello. He wouldn't let them.
Footsteps grew louder, reaching an unbearable peak as the floorboards just outside their shared room creaked.
"Lovino…" Feliciano whimpered, burying his face into the older's chest. Lovino merely shushed him, too scared for anything else. A shaft of light swept across the bedroom floor, a shadow prominent in it's midst.
No sounds escaped the boys. Time had slowed to a snail-like speed to Feliciano, and he watched a pair of boots invade his last safe place. His heart was thumping. Oh God, is it too loud? Would his drumming organ give them away? He had to calm himself, before his breathing became to erratic.
"Are they in there?" The voice outside of the hall called.
The boots walked to the closet, opening the door and peering in for a moment, "I don't think so."
"Well keep looking!"
The boots walked back over to the doorway, and Feliciano knew they were going to leave. Maybe…maybe they'll be safe now. He let go a breathe of air.
Loudly.
The boots froze, and turned around.
Now he knew what was going to happen.
They were, in fact, going to die.
The boots stopped right in front of the bed, and soon were accompanied by knees as the man in question crouched down.
"Hello, boys."