?POV

A hand slid down my cheek, surprising gentle. I fought the urge to groan from the pain being caused to the bruised skin, even though the touch was light.

"Wake up, my darling," she sung, that sickeningly sweet voice ringing in my ears.

I didn't react.

"So that's how we are today. I'll see how you feel after I send Simon in here."

It wasn't until the door closed that I let a tear fall down my cheek. I had to stay strong, for everyone… but… it's so hard… My emotions swam around me and I become lost in a sea of myself. Fear… hopelessness…

I'm never going to get out of here.

…but I could feel something… It wasn't from me… I don't know from who… a single flicker of light in the darkness…

Happiness… joy… laughter…

Love

I sighed and let myself sink into those feelings – those wonderful feelings I haven't known for years – and hoped desperately, that I would never leave.

But everything came crashing down when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps. My eyes shot open to see the grinning face of a monster.

"The madam says you won't react. But that's alright," He pulled out his favourite knife with the ornate, blood-stained engraving, and traced it down my exposed stomach. "Because I will."

Third Person POV

-8:05 PM -

Gilbert forced his eyelids open, "Mein gott, what happened?"

The last thing he remembered was a high-speed velocity frying pan heading his way… the rest was just… blank.

As he looked around his surroundings, he noted that he had definitely never been there before. The ancient-looking wall paper had all peeled off, leaving the walls barren and grey. The little light in the room came from a sliver of a window, casting a silver glow over the room.

Glancing around again, the albino saw a crashed chandelier, an old torn painting and… He shot up and shakily ran to the corner of the room.

Laying in the midst of torn curtains was a frying pan.

His eyes dashed around the room, desperately searching for its owner.

No such luck.

"Okay, Gilbert. Stay awesome." He let out a shaky breath.

He opened the door.

A sterile, white environment lay before him. A few feet in front of him was a gaping hole in the floor, and on the other side, a hallway. There were no other places to go beside the room he had just come from. Peering over the edge, Gilbert saw that the fall was huge, and the sides were smooth, just like the rest of the area.

Stepping back a few steps back, taking a running start, he jumped, and fell.

-8:07 PM-

"Angleterre! Angleterre wake up!"

Arthur heard a muffled voice swimming around in his head, and then felt himself being shaken. He groaned and rolled over to go back to sleep, when he realized just who the voice belonged to.

"GET OFF ME YOU BLOODY FROG!" Arthur screamed, proceeding to flail about and scramble to a standing position.

Of course, Francis ignored him and glomped him, huge grin on his face. "Angleterre! You're okay!" England's face went red and he started yelling again.

Mid-rant, Arthur paused for a moment. "Where are we?"

"I honestly do not know mon ami. I cannot even remember 'ow we got 'ere."

Arthur looked around the room. It appeared as if it was once a library, but clearly it hadn't been used in years. Dust covered just about every surface, and bookshelves were strewn everywhere. The place looked like a warzone. The only light came from a fireplace across the room, casting an eerie red-orange glow over the space.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur doubled over in a coughing fit. There was far too much dust.

Helping Arthur out of the room, Francis shut the door behind them and was shocked at what lie before them.

"What ze 'ell?!" He yelled, Arthur's arm still around his should, recovering from the coughing fit.

"What… is it?" Arthur asked, eyes closed while he was catching his breath. He looked up. "Bloody hell…"

Before the pair, lie a sterile white environment, and a bridge leading to the other side, but that wasn't what surprised them. What surprised them, was the flouting, rotating green orb, that every once in a while would bubble up and expand, as if irritated.

Arthur stepped forward, and the orb exploded into many other smaller, red ones, and the bridge momentarily disappeared. Arthur froze, and the red ones formed back into the one green one. The bridge was back.

-8:07-

Feli rolled over, reaching his arm out to wrap around Lovino. When his hand felt nothing, he sat up and looked around. "Fratello?"

He didn't get an answer.

The room he was in was very cold, especially for the country who was only in his boxers and a tank top. His bare feet pattered across the tile floor, hoping to find something to warm him up.

What he did not expect to see, was a rather disoriented Russian.

Feli started to shake, trying to stay quiet, and looking for a way to run away. Unfortunately for him, the door was behind Ivan. The Russian noticed him, and stood up with that childlike, terrifying grin. "Privet, little one." He glanced around. "Do you know where we are?"

Feliciano shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. He froze when he felt a hand on his head. A rather large hand at that. "So why don't we find out, little Feli?" Terrified, Feliciano nodded, not wanting to anger Ivan.

Exiting the tiled room they found themselves in a cold and sterile environment, that was, if anything, colder than the room they were in before. Feliciano started to shiver. He stepped forward, but he stopped when his was covered by a cloth that draped over his head. Picking it up, he felt the tan material, and realized it was Ivan's jacket. He looked up at the Russian, eyes huge.

"You looked cold."

-8:08-

Ludwig didn't remember how he had managed to fall asleep in such an unfamiliar place – on top of an old but ornate dining table at that. Frankly, he wasn't really surprised. He had quite a bit to drink the night before, and he sure had one hell of a hangover.

What he didn't expect, though, was Japan spooning him.

I mean, he wouldn't had been surprised if it was Italy, that would have been a normal occurrence, but Japan? No.

"Hmm… Miku…" The Asian whispered in his sleep, holding on to Germany tighter. Ludwig's face went as red as Spain's tomatoes, and he tried to wriggle out of the other countries grip.

Japan was surprisingly strong.

-8:15-

"Aiyah!" Yao sighed in defeat and stared at the American before him. He wasn't dead, just asleep, which was a good thing for Yao. Alfred owed him money; he couldn't die before he paid him back!

"Stupid, lazy America! If I had any idea where we were I would have left you behind already!"

Alfred slept on.

China stood up, thoroughly annoyed. He shook his head and Wandered around the musty old room. Alfred was snoozing on an old, Victorian-style sofa, and the area seemed like it used to be very well kept. Now, however, it was left in ruins. An old fireplace sat across from the deep red sofa, and shuddering, Yao decided that it would be a good idea to use it. He didn't want to freeze.

His brown eyes searched the room for anything he could use as tinder, and sighed. There was nothing to start a fire with. Closing his eyes and muttering in Chinese, he sat down in front of the Victorian sofa, and waited.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

A/N

Thank you guys for reading! This might end up being a long one, and I don't know if I'll be able to update as regularly as I would like, but I'll try. And, yes, OC's are in the story, and are the driving force of the plot, but the majority of the narration will be with the cannon characters.

Shout out to anyone who knows the inspiration for the bridge!