Hello all!

I just watched some Resident Evil playthroughs and fell in love with a character named Luis Sera. He reminded me so much of France and Spain, my friend prompted me to write a HetaHazard crossover!

Enjoy! Comment and fave!

France wasn't sure were this newcomer had come from. He was fairly sure it was only the nations that had fallen down here to this cursed lab. But he was sure that he was grateful to the stranger. If not for him, both he and Spain would be dead. A band of murderous zombie crows had them cornered. Whoever this man was, France owed him his life.

They were inside now, France fell to his knees panting. Spain fell beside him, wiping his brow. He was smiling, always smiling. Honestly, they had almost been murdered! And Spain was still smiling. Did he ever freak out?! Putting that aside, France took a few moments to get himself together before looking up to his savior.

Long dark hair, a tan complexion and stubble on his chin. His clothes were perfectly tailored to suit his slender frame. As far as men go, he was a perfect example. France blushed. He couldn't help it, the man was too handsome and he had a weakness for that.

"Pardon moi, but who are you?" He asked, getting off the filthy ground to make himself more presentable. The man looked over at him, a seemingly nonchalant glance.

"The name is Luis Sera but we haven't the time for niceties. You are the first people I've come across. Some of your other friends are in grave danger. Come, follow me." He nodded, turning on his heels to go down the hall. France looked at Spain before blindly following the man. His accent said he was Spanish. But his mannerism said French. But France didn't know if either of those things merited trust. He could be leading them right into a trap.

They ran down the hall, "Who exactly is in trouble? We 'ave a fair number of friends trapped down 'ere with us." France asked, trying to keep up. Spain was right behind him.

"A foul mouthed little Italian boy and an albino with an ego." Luis replied. The pair emitted unified gasps of horror.

"Romano?!"

"Prussia?!"

Luis managed a shrug as he ran, "I suppose. The albino is who I'm taking you to first. He was injected with Las Plagas. We don't have much time if we wish to save him."

"Las Plagas?" Spain repeated, confused as he looked to France. "He has been injected with… pests?" He asked.

They turned a corner at a run and France almost lost his footing. Luis huffed, like he was slightly annoyed. "It is not a literal translation. It is what they call the virus. A bug like parasite. They have injected an egg into his blood stream and if it hatches in his body, your friend is as good as dead."

"Do you work with zhese people, monsieur?" France questioned, a little suspicious that a man they had just meet knew so much about this underground hell when they had been here several hours and hardly knew anything.

"I did. I was a researcher on Las Plagas. I helped them get information. But I had no idea it would lead to this. Kidnapping the world's nations, using them as test subjects. Using America and his boss to manipulate everyone. It is unspeakable!"

Both Spain and France looked at each other, sharing a wary glance of uncertainty. "What was zhat last part, mon ami?"

"No time to explain! We must get to your friend before the egg hatches!"

After that, Luis remained stubbornly and stoically silent. France eyed him wearily. How could a man drop what he knew to be a significant bomb of information on them and then refuse to say another word about it? Maybe he was just over-worried about Prussia and Romano that he would tell them after they were sorted but France didn't like it. He had long suspected America had been somewhat in on this. Luis just confirmed his suspicions. What was America up to?

Corner after corner they rounded until the came upon a relatively quiet hallway. Quiet except for the sounds of grunting and screaming coming from one room down at the end. Luis's eyes grew wide. "Lo siento, mi amigos. We are too late." Luis said, bowing his head.

France looked aghast and shook his head. "Non! Prussia is our friend! We will save 'im!" He cried, running off towards the screaming. Luis tried to call him back as Spain followed the unusually brave France. If those sounds really were coming from Prussia, they had to do something quickly!

With one kick even he didn't know he had in him, France kicked the wooden door down, splintering it in it's hinges. He pushed over the wrecked to stumble in on a horrific scene.

Prussia was in the middle of the room, strapped to deathly looking chair, surrounded by medical equipment. He was struggling, pulling at the restrains tying him down. As France looked on he was repulsed to see that Prussia's stomach was moving abnormally. Like there was something crawling around on his insides. He had to fight the urge to throw up but moved closer still. A hand stopped him.

"The egg, it's hatched. There is nothing more you can do for your friend. He is going to be consumed and made into a new host. The friend you knew will be lost and the Plagas will take over. I am sorry." Luis said bowing his head. "The other was injected much later, there maybe time to save him."

France looked shocked as he looked back to his friend, who was crying out in pain and agony. His skin was so pale. And… whatever that was inside him was making gurgling and bubbling noises. Prussia's body jumped and seized, his stomach pulsing and moving up and down like a wave. Realization hit France like brick. Prussia was being eaten! Right before his eyes! Eaten from the inside out! He didn't care about what Luis said, he needed to save his friend!

France scrambled over to Prussia's side as he vaguely heard Luis telling him it was too dangerous. He looked down kindly, "Prussia, mon ami. I am 'ere, do not worr-"

There was loud snapping noise and Prussia's arm restraint came loose. France heard Luis scream for him to get back but there was nothing he could do. Prussia's hand shot up and grabbed his throat, digging in hard. His now long nails pricked France's skin, blood ran down his neck.

He couldn't breath, he struggled to throw Prussia off but couldn't do that either. His friend was just too strong. The grip got tighter, his eyes bugled from their sockets. He heard Spain shouting for him but he couldn't answer. Prussia was pulling at him, pulling at his throat.

The last thing France saw before his first of many gruesome deaths he would suffer in this place was Prussia's eyes. As his throat was ripped savagely from his neck, blood spurting all over his friend's face, France looked into them. There were redder than normal, no mistaking that but in them, France saw horror. Fear. Shock. Even a tear in the corner.

The last thought that he had, as his body spun and fell towards the floor, head flopping grossly on what little neck he had left muscles and tendons hanging down from the hole left behind, was a positive one. His friend wasn't lost to them. He was in there, terrified, alone. Scared at what was happening to him and of what he was doing to others.

France closed his eyes, his heart coming to a stop. If he could have talked, he would have comforted Prussia with a small smile and a promise.

"We will save you, mon ami."