((Who am I? *Axis Powers Hetalia*))

With an exploding laugh, the Canadian man slammed his rather large pistol against his hand. He looked over the tied up Allies in front of him: America, France, and England. His laughter faded. His small bear, Kumajiro, was present, clinging to his leg. "Hello, friends," the Canadian said eerily, "can you hear me? Can you see me? Can you?" He watched them struggle with the rough ropes that were bounding their wrists and ankles.

America yelled, "Canada, dude, untie us! Let us go man!"

Cocking his pistol, Canada chuckled loudly. "What did you say? Hm? Let you go, eh? Let me think..." He looked America dead in the eye. "After all these years of me being 'invisible', you're finally seeing me and asking for me to let you go? I don't think so." Canada glanced from America to the weary English man, whose head was hung down. "I don't think any of you have a reason why you couldn't see or hear me! Especially you, England - you claim you can see pixies and fairies, so why can't you see me?!"

The only response that was given by England was a small, painful sound as Canada pushed the barrel of the pistol against his forehead. He pretended to pull the trigger, causing England to flinch.

"C-Canada," managed France, "mon petite, you know that Papa France loves you-"

"If you really love me, how come you, of all people, don't even notice me? Am I thin air to you too?!" Canada swung his arm forcefully to the side, now aiming the gun at France. "It makes me sick! None of you know what it feels like! None of you ask yourselves why you even exist. You don't know how it feels when you have to beg for recognition, attention, love, and all you get is disrespect and loneliness! You get all the love and attention automatically! I sit at World Meetings with a fake smile on my face, trying to tell you guys what I have to say in my loudest voice! But you don't even know that I'm in the room! And then that bastard Russia sits on me, and I cry for help, but no one can hear me! I'm sick of it!" His voice lingered around the room. Soon, he laughed and held his pistol against the right temple of France's head. "What if I kill someone? Would you notice me then?!"

"Canada!" shouted England and America.

"Wouldn't you remember my name then?!" He forced the barrel of his gun harder as France fell silent, sweating in shock and fear.

England picked up his head. "Don't do something stupid, Canada!" he begged loudly. "Please, put the gun down and-"

"Shut up, England!" Canada rested his index finger against the trigger. His eyes remained on France. "Why should I listen to you?!" He took a deep breath.

France, with a shaky voice, smiled through his tears and said, "Canada, mon amore, even with that gun you're holding against my head, you've always been the sweetest, most gentle man I know. I love you."

Then the sound of a gunshot echoed around the room with Canada's aggravated scream. France's smile remained as his eyes slowly closed and his body went limp. His crimson red blood sprayed onto England's and America's clothes and spilled onto the floor from the wound in his head. Canada, his finger shakily holding down the trigger, backed up slowly. "…i'm canada…"

"Who are you?" Kumajiro squeaked softly.

"Damn it, I'm Canada!" Canada clenched his unoccupied fist.

"F-France!" England shouted, trying desperately to escape from the binding. He didn't realize that tears were pouring down his cheeks until Canada laughed and pointed it out.

"Oh," Canada said mockingly, "look. The English gentleman is crying over someone he was supposed to hate." He softly brushed the tip of the pistol, which was now covered in France's blood, along England's jawbone. "How ironic."

America watched, trembling. "Canada," he yelled, "why did you kill France?!"

"Eh? Why?" Canada, chuckling, pressed his hand into France's blood and streaked it across England's cheekbone. His smile was like a Cheshire cat's - wide and chilling. Shaking his head, he leaned down and untied England's wrists. He stood straight and looked at America. "Who am I, America?"

Slightly hesitating, America watched England pull France's bloody, lifeless body close to him. England kissed his forehead lightly. "Who am I, America?" Canada repeated.

Then America caught Canada's eyes with his. He noticed the strange glimmer that appeared to go back and forth, and that the color had changed to a deep purple that seemed almost black. "What?" America asked.

"Who am I?" Canada knelt down in front of the shaking American and put a bloodstained hand against his jaw. He clenched tightly. "Who am I?" He put the gun against the back of America's golden-haired head. "Who the hell am I?"

"Canada, dude, stop!" America's plead echoed loudly.

"Who am I?"

"Canada!"

A slight silence fell upon them this time. As Canada stood, he jammed the gun into the back of America's head. "Canada!" America shouted again.

But Canada acted like he couldn't hear him. He began to hum and stare at the ceiling. "Where is everyone?" he asked himself. "Where did they all go? I'm alone…" He grinned wider.