Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Ring Around the Rosie,
There was screaming. All around them, their people were screaming. Screams of pain, fear, grief, shock,...anger. The sounds of suffering leaked in through the eighth floor windows, the only windows in the building. Some of the nations were crying, some yelling, still others just sat there and looked on. They were all scared. Here they sat, locked inside their meeting building.
The plague had taken them all by surprise. No one knew where it started, no one knew what it was. It killed everything it infected. Nations and humans alike were dying and no one had any idea how to stop it. For almost a month, the remaining nations of the world had been ensconced in their meeting building, trying to figure out what to do. Some hadn't lived the entire month. Their numbers were dwindling at an increasingly fast rate. The dead nations were piled in the corners of the room, as far away from the living as possible. It wasn't just the nations dying. Their people were dying too. It was like some twisted nightmare that they were all sharing. Some still hoped they would wake up soon and find it had never been real.
Italy was curled up in Germany's lap, sobs wracking his tiny frame. His brother had been the most recent death among them. Spain was despondent, staring unseeing at the empty chair across from his that Romano had once filled. He hadn't spoken in almost two days. Not since Romano's hazel eyes had become blank and slowly slid closed for the last time, all the while never leaving the Spaniard's face.
France and England were no longer fighting. They were too heartbroken to have petty arguments anymore. It had been three months since their lovers had died. America had been the first of the nations to succumb to the plague's deadly nature and Canada had followed his brother into the afterlife soon after. The former rivals sat close together, sharing their all-consuming grief. The North American brothers had been their lives. America and England. France and Canada. It was supposed to have stayed that way forever. They were supposed to have forever.
England's normal scowl had been replaced by apathy and his once brilliant emerald eyes were dim, empty of life. France was no longer himself either. His usual flirty smile was gone. A solemn expression filled the void on his face unsuccessfully. Once beautiful wavy, golden locks were stringy and limp.
None of the Nordics had survived to even enter the building with the others. Even Greenland and Sealand, honorary members of the Nordic family, had succumbed to the mysterious plague just before Finland. Sweden had killed himself, unable to find the will to live after his 'wife' and adopted son were gone. It wasn't clear what had killed Iceland, Norway, and Denmark. Their house had been set on fire by despairing citizens who blamed the nations for their misfortune. The bodies had been so charred and disfigured, it was unclear if they had been dead before the attack on their house or if they died in the blaze. No one could be sure, as they hadn't been heard from for almost two weeks before the fire.
Belarus sat huddled on the floor next to the cold bodies of her older brother and sister. Lithuania and Poland had made one attempt at moving the distraught nation, but Germany forbade anyone else to go near the girl again after she stabbed Poland in the arm. Poland had been patched up by Japan and was fine for now. Everyone just tried not to look at the pathetic form of the lovely girl. She hadn't moved away since her siblings had been placed there.
"We're going to die, aren't we?" Austria asked suddenly. "Just like the others," He pointed to a random pile of bodies nearby. "We're going to die." Germany glared at his friend, pulling Italy closer. Austria hadn't been the same since he found Prussia and Hungary dead in the dining room when he came out of his music room for the evening meal the three had planned to have together. The plague had taken the former empire's closest friends, half of his family. His only family aside from Germany and Italy. The brunette was harder now, less calm and more angry at life than he had been before.
"Do not say such things! We will be fine!" He sent a harsh glare at the aristocrat once more before burying his face in Italy's hair, whispering softly to try and comfort his lover. "We will be fine..." There was silence for a long time, all the nations consumed by their own thoughts. A loud exclamation broke the eerie haze that had descended upon the room and its inhabitants.
"Crikey! What about my koalas? And my kangaroos! MY KANGAROOS ARE OUT THERE!" Australia had lost his last marble when New Zealand had suddenly stopped breathing almost three days before. England, France, and Germany sent him pitying looks, but most everyone else ignored the crazed nation-continent. There was no helping him now. Not when his sanity lay in the decaying pile of corpses stacked against the far wall. "Doesn't anyone care about the kangaroos?" Australia frowned and continued to rattle on about the kangaroos for a while. "What do you think, Zea? You like the 'roos, don't ya?" The Aussie was beyond unhinged at this point. He kept speaking to the empty chair beside him as though his sister was still occupying it. The saddest part of it all was that he continued to converse with the empty air, face bright and animated, as though it was replying. No one had the heart to tell him it wasn't.
A Pocket Full of Posies,
Ashes! Ashes!
We All Fall Down!
A/N: Hope this turned out okay! This story is the first in a series of oneshot Hetalia fairytales I plan to write. Depending on how long it takes me to get inspired, I should be posting the next story in a month or so... maybe. ^-^; Also, I am looking for someone to draw art to go with my fics. Any of my fics. If anyone wants to draw art for anything I write, just send me a copy because I love all fanart for Hetalia! But then again, I understand if no one wants to do any art for my stories. Bye until next time!