Disclaimer: I Don't own Hetalia.
Author's Notes: I've had this idea for a while now but I never had the time to write it out or whatever. Usually I'm busy doing one thing or another so I don't have a lot of time to update and whatnot. I'm still fairly new to this fic writing thing so I hope it doesn't suck too much. *sigh* This chapter will be written in Canada's point of view for the time being. This has been very difficult to write because I don't know how I should write them. A few pointers would be greatly appreciated.
Matthew = Canada
Ivan = Russia
Gilbert = Prussia
The first thing I noticed upon waking was the pain. There was a dull throbbing from the back of my head. I instinctively tried to reach back and touch the source of pain but found my arms restricted. I struggled with the restraints around the wrists. The material binding my wrists was rough and scratchy, I could feel it burning and rubbing against my skin. How did I end up like this? I looked around but it was so dark, the fabric covering my eyes didn't let a speck of light shine in. l felt panic rise inside me. I tried to call out for help but found my words were muffled. The fabric between my lips was chaffing my face as I bit into it. What's going on? Why am I here? Think Matthew, think!
I was becoming more aware of my surroundings as the fog cleared from my mind. I noticed the surface I was sitting on was hard, cold, and slightly wet. It was strangely quiet except for the occasional dripping sounds of water. I realized that I was sitting in a basement or cellar of some sort. But who brought me here? I can't remember how I got here. The last thing I remember was spending the night at Ivan's house... But then why am I here? Oh god! What if I'm about to die. Someone's trying to kill me! But why!? What have I done? I have to get out of here! I desperately yanked at what felt like rope around my wrists. I continued my little struggle but it was all in vain. There was no way I was getting out of here. Out of breath, I heavily sank to the ground in defeat. I felt tears of frustration well up but I didn't dare let them out. I could not let them know I was afraid. I refuse to let them have the sick pleasure of me crying and begging for mercy. I have to be strong. I'll figure- what was that?
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. My blood ran cold as I heard heavy footsteps descend the creaky stairs. Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! I want to go home! I want to wake up and this all be nothing but a dream. A nightmare, not reality, this can't really be happening. My ragged breathing increased with each step of the stairs until I could no longer hear them anymore. They're here. I'm going to die! I'll never get to see my family or friends again. Will they ever find me? My brother Al, Arthur, Francis... Ivan. I so desperately wanted to cry but I refused. What will my family say? What about Ivan...? I never got to say goodbye or tell them I loved them. I whimpered as I heard the killer approach me. This is it. This is really happening, I'm going to die...
My heart was pounding so harshly in my chest that I'm sure the killer could hear it too. I tried to flatten myself against the moist wall I was leaning against. I know it was no use and it gave me no peace of mind whatsoever but it was a reflex. I heard an amused chuckle from above as I tried to make myself smaller against the ground. "Aw don't be afraid little birdie. I don't bite... Well most of the time." I froze in place at the sound of the killer's voice. I felt myself tremble as he placed a hand under my chin to tilt my head up at him. I swallowed harshly as I tried to keep my breathing under control. The killer's other hand slipped behind my head and I winced in pain when his hand brushed the wound. A few seconds later the blindfold slipped from my face.
My eyes tried to adjust, but it was so dark. The only light came from the stairway. I was correct in my basement assumption so it seems. My eyes quickly darted around the room but then I remembered the killer in front of me. Slowly the dark shadow came into detail. The killer had white hair and dark red eyes. His skin was sickly pale and he looked like a ghost. This newfound knowledge did nothing to calm me down, in fact, I think I peed my pants.
Hysteria does weird things to people, at this point I was 100% sure ghost boy was going to rip my face off with his teeth and sacrifice my soul or something, I don't know. I just know that I was crying like a freaking baby right now, maple… "Hey, don't worry kid, I won't hurt you. I'm just doing business." Now that piqued my curiosity. "What kind of business." I asked as I looked him straight in the eye. Business? Kidnapping someone is doing business?
"Oh nothing much, just a little ransom to that Russian tightwad of yours. I think he'll pay a hefty price to get you back Birdie." I was a little shocked, what did Ivan have to do with this? "Ivan? But why?" My kidnapper crouched down, pulling on my restraints as he talked. "He just owes me a little something but don't worry, no harm will come to you. I'm sorry that you had to be dragged into this." Not sorry enough not to do it though… Sigh. "And who are you, if I may ask?" I was already bored with this whole situation and just wanted to go home. I was tired, wounded, and still a little frightened. But the guy wouldn't hurt me, he doesn't have the guts. I feel bad for Ivan though, getting dragged into this.
"And I thought you'd never ask! I'm the awesome Gilbert! Kesesese!" Oh no, I inflated his ego. He's pretty annoying with that obnoxious laugh of his. But still, if I wanted to get out of here, I'd have to play my cards right. "Well, my name's Matthew, it's a pleasure. I'd shake your hand but they seem to be unavailable at the moment," I said sourly. Maybe he would get the hint and untie me, eh? "Oh!" Gilbert suddenly exclaimed, standing up quickly. "I forgot to make a phone call, I'll be right back. Don't you go anywhere. Heh, what am I kidding, you won't." And with that said he raced back up the stairs leaving me here. Ugh! It's cold down here! That hoser should hurry up before my arms fall off, I can't feel them anymore.
Within a couple of minutes, I heard his footsteps approach again. And with a satisfied sigh, he pushed open the basement door. "Well, what did he say?" I asked, more than enough done with this crap. Gilbert looked up confused. "Who?" For the love of- "Ivan! I know you called him!" I swear I could hear him trying to think. "He didn't answer, I left a voicemail so we'll have to wait and see. For the meantime, lets get you cleaned up." I stiffened when he started to approach me.
"Still don't trust me, huh? Well that's okay." He reached behind me and loosened the restraints, the rope falling to the floor. I had a hard time standing up, sitting down a long time does that to you. As embarrassing as it was, I had to be carried up the stairs. He carried me up the basement stairs and through the house. "Nice place you got here." I said plainly, observing my surroundings. And what a nice place it was… THIS GUY WAS FREAKING RICH. He probably ate gold-plated sandwiches all day while swimming in a pool of money. Naturally, it seems that I'm the only one who gets it, being the delicate forest creature I was.
"Gold-plated sandwiches? Don't be ridiculous birdie. Do you know how hard that would be to ingest? It would probably give me constipation or something." Alright. EW. "And DON'T even get me started on the money pools. Been there, done that!" Why am I not surprised. As cool as his house was, I decided I don't care. What? Don't look at me like that. It's been a long day, being kidnapped and junk, but I'm tired so spare me the details. Maybe I'll describe the house in great detail tomorrow or something.
Upon hearing my intentionally loud yawning, kidnapper guy suggested we go to bed. Even though I still don't trust that guy, I was kind of grateful. I really didn't want to sleep on moldy cement so yeah… But what I didn't understand was why we had to SHARE a bed. I mean there must be like 2,000 luxury bedrooms in this place! I know I'm exaggerating, but why?! When I told nagged about this he proceeded to look at me like I grew antlers or something. "Well how do I know you won't try to escape?" Hmmm… He had a point. I actually hadn't thought about that. Kind of pathetic, I know, but my brain is like pudding right now. And if you don't mind, I'd actually like to get some sleep. With that in mind, I turned on my side of the bed to face the wall. I find this situation very awkward. But to my dismay, he scooted right up behind me and started cuddling me. Cuddling me! Like I was some kind of stuffed animal or security blanket. I felt my face heat up. Oh maple, this is so weird and embarrassing. How am I supposed to sleep now?