Ok, my first Fanfic! After about a month of changes and rewriting… It's finally here! And one more thing: When you hear Ludwig's personality, you might immediately think, "Omfg, he's like Auron from Final Fantasy X!" Well, yes. I know, I've got a bit on a crush on him, and decided to incorporate his character into Ludwig, just this once! :3
IMPORTANT! Chapters will be released every two weeks to a week and a half! Expect Chapter 2 at around the 20-25th of April, kk?
Alright. Enough talk. I present to you Traître. The translation is from the French language. It means traitor.
"America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter, and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves." - Abraham Lincoln
Traître
"Alright, Al!"
"Alfred! Alfred! Alfred!"
"Y-you can do it, brother!"
As I entered that soccer stadium, I already felt like a hero. The roar of the crowd, the screech of the referee's whistle, I was already running down that artificial turf. I felt the wind whip the sides of my face, I loved it. Now, most of you would guess I'm the Football type; Buff, tall, rowdy. Not all of the time. Strategy is what's important. That was why I spent my time there.
As the red team closed in on my left and right, I figured I had no choice but to pass forward to Baker. Baker's pace lessened as our team closed in for a defensive tactic. I signaled with a wave of two fingers for Baker to pass back to me. He nodded and brought his leg waaay back, like a pitcher winding a throw. The soccer ball sailed past the horde of red team members, making its way towards me.
I smirked.
"Give 'em the Blindshot!" A spectator in the crowd roared to me. I looked around. The calling of the crowd only intensified after the comment. Looks like I had no choice. The red team was coming in fast, but I still had a clear shot at the opposing goal. Well, it was now or never. As I prepared for the shot, all time seemed to slow.
Every blink lasted a long time. After that, I just decided to close my eyes. The sounds of the outside world silenced; I felt alone. I took a deep breath, focusing energy into my right leg. A slow, rumbling clamor sounded above me. It was probably a plane or something. As the tremor of the red team's legs approached, closer and closer, I released.
I scored! I felt the exhilaration and adrenaline pump blood in my ears. My eyes opened instantly.
I didn't see any thrilled team members. I didn't hear the crowd exploding in cheers. The heavenly breeze was replaced with an devil-like explosion all around me. Before I knew what was happening, I was running for my life, dodging chunks of the stadium that hurled towards me. I looked around frantically. I was searching, searching, trying to find my brother, anyone I knew.
I looked over my head. Missiles. I was able to calm down and tried to read what the missiles were engraved with. But my concentration was knocked out by a smack in the head. I spun around, fear enveloping me. Even though I knew who it was, the shock was overwhelming.
"Ludwig?" I choked on the question. "Ludwig? I thought you were… You're supposed to be-"
"Dead," Ludwig answered, face straight and composed despite the raining of shrapnel and rocket parts. He wore a billowing dark green coat. Black boots came up to his knees, concealing half of his dark military pants. His coat was only wrapped around his shoulders, freeing his large, muscular arms. His toughened expression sent shivers up my spine.
"Come," He urged in a low voice. "We've got a lot to talk about." I swallowed and weakly followed Ludwig. A million questions raced through my head. What was Ludwig doing here? I thought he was killed a year ago by his brother, and Gilbert wasn't a guy you'd want to mess with. Ludwig guided us into a storage area inside of the stadium. The wall was steel and secured with columns. It seemed pretty safe here.
"Ok," I started, regaining my confidence. "Why- Why are you here? No, no- How are you here?" Ludwig glanced at me and sighed. He sat on one of the benches and removed his coat, revealing a horrific array of scars and whip marks.
"You won't believe," Ludwig half-laughed bitterly, "how I even survived." I covered my mouth in disgust.
"He did this to you?" I referred to his brother.
"Partly," Ludwig grunted, resting his arms on his knees, his back arched and head low. "The other half was from the trouble of finding you. You should be grateful. I'll be protecting you now."
"What do you mean?" I questioned. Everything was so unclear and blurred, and I was confused. Ludwig noticed right away and explained.
"Well, before we begin I think you ought to know who launched this attack." Ludwig leaned in. His expression hardened and he quieted his voice.
"The Motherland sent them."
"…W-wait. You mean THE Motherland? Mother Russia?" Nothing was making sense, dammit! It was 2017, my ties with Russia were fine! We were actually getting along to some extent.
"What can I say to make you feel better. Ivan wants your head on a silver platter." Ludwig had meant it figuratively, but knowing Ivan Braginsky, current dictator of Russia, nothing seemed impossible anymore.
"S-so… What do you expect me to do?" I said, raising my voice. Ludwig stood up, swinging on his coat all the way. He buttoned it up and swiftly left the storage area. I followed, slightly irritated that he didn't answer me. He wasn't helping at all. Why was he here? I know he said something like to protect me, but Ivan couldn't possibly want me dead? And besides, I'd be able to fend for myself. My country would be just fine without Germany lending a hand. Sheesh, but this guy wouldn't leave! I ran through the debris of the attack into my undamaged (Thank you, God) convertible, and Ludwig, without even warning me he was already in the back, allowed me to scream like a helpless little girl! … That could have been worded differently.
"What do you want?!" I yelled, flinging my pair of sunglasses at him. Not like they'd be any use, the sun was blocked out from the dust the rockets blew in the air. Ludwig caught the sunglasses an inch away from his face, not flinching at all. Showoff.
"We're going to you're house," Ludwig commanded. "Pick up the essentials. Nothing more. Then we head north." My eyebrows raised.
"North?" I repeated. "But north is-" My heart skipped a beat.
My brother was still trapped in the stadium.
"We're not leaving yet." I told Ludwig, unbuckling myself in an attempt to leave him.
"Yes, we are." Ludwig replied firmly, clutching my shoulder. I yanked away from his grasp. I snarled at the stubbornness of him.
"You want me to leave my brother to die?" I asked, my voice cracking. Ludwig's eyebrows knitted together. He seemed to understand, at least.
"…Fine." He sulked. "But we have to hurry. Ivan could be deploying conscripts as we speak." I secretly thanked Ludwig. If I could just leave with my brother, I'd listen to all that he'd order me with. Once again, though, Ludwig stopped me outside the convertible.
"You'll need some protection," He concluded. His belt was strapped with guns and knives. "Take this." It was a standard Luger. Not a bad pistol. Semi-automatic, too. But my hands were shaking when Ludwig handed it to me. It was strange, because I read about guns. I studied them and thought they were pretty cool. But when you're given something like this, your palms get sweaty, you get nervous. That's exactly what I felt as Ludwig and I silently passed through the ruined stadium. What relieved me was the cluster of people grouping up. Not many seemed hurt, so I breathed a bit easier. Maybe my brother was one of them. Maybe he was ok and we could go home and forget this nightmare.
"Matthew?" I called, walking through the masses of people. I didn't get a reply, just a few turning heads. I wasn't going to give up so easily, though. After seeing so many anxious but determined people, it was hard to give up anyway.
And for some reason, I just had a feeling that Matthew was alright. I couldn't explain it. But I knew I couldn't just let him come to me. The stadium (especially after the attack) was unstable and a lot of areas were blocked off. And if Matthew WAS hurt, he wouldn't have the strength to crawl through and of the small openings. As I worried, Ludwig kept calm and tapped on my shoulder. He pointed to the direction he wanted to go. I nodded and followed.
Ludwig and I came across a row of injured people. Women were tearing pieces of cloth and wrapping them around the wounds of frightened individuals. It was so… Sad. I felt bad when I entered the same room. It made me feel lucky that I wasn't hurt.
"A-Alfred?" A weak voice called. I looked down the rows of the people. I smiled.
"Matthew!" I replied, running to his side. Matthew sat up right, his golden-blonde hair damp and filled with dust. He was constantly rubbing his right eye, his trademark curl sticking out awkwardly. I hadn't realized how much I missed him, how important he was to me. I grabbed Matthew and hugged him, so relieved he was alright! I could have hugged him all day if it wasn't for Ludwig.
"There's blood on your shirt," Ludwig pointed out, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What happened?"
"Oh…" Matthew started nervously, twitching a little. He was still holding his hand to his right eye. "I think someone was bleeding behind m-me… Y-yeah… That's p-probably it-"
"Take your hand away," Ludwig demanded impatiently, losing his cool tone.
"N-no, I really shouldn't-"
"Now."
Matthew flinched at Ludwig's harsh tone. With a regrettable expression, Matthew removed his hand. I held my breathe. What was Matthew hiding, especially from his brother? Tears filled Matthew's eyes. Or should I say "eye".
Because in place of his right eye was a pitch-black socket.
"Y-you… Your…" I stuttered. Matthew burst out crying.
"I'm s-so sorry! When the rockets came they hit really close to me, and o-one send a check of c-concrete and my f-face; It came so qu-quickly I-I…" Matthew fell to his knees, tears dripping onto the rubble of the stadium. My smile completely faded, replaced with a look of horror. My brother was half blind all because of that bastard and his sick mind?
"I'll kill Ivan!" I screamed, kicking dust into the air. "I'll kill him! He's a sick son of a-"
"Alfred!" Ludwig ordered. His eyebrows knitted together. "You're causing unnecessary noise. Throwing a tantrum won't make Matthew feel any better."
"I don't need you to remind me!" I jeered. "And why won't you even care? You're not helping one bit!" I knelt to the ground and flung a piece of rubble at him. I missed by about a foot.
"Put yourself in Matthew's shoes," Ludwig continued on. "If we want this suffering to stop, we'll have to infiltrate the Motherland." Ludwig paused to help my traumatized brother to his feet. He now hid the right side of his face with his bangs. He adjusted his glasses, sniveling as he stood up. I offered to help him walk, rudely pushing Ludwig aside.
Suddenly, an ominous rumble sounded above us. Ludwig cursed under his breathe.
"Conscripts," He muttered. "This could be bad. Follow me." Ludwig cautiously unbuttoned his coat, in case he needed to pull out a weapon.
I ran alongside Matthew, who finally got a grip and pestered Ludwig for a weapon.
"Lemme at 'em!" He called strongly. "If they hurt Alfred, I'll… I'll-"
"Quiet." Ludwig hushed. "I don't need more trouble then I already have." Ludwig paused to look at me. My face burned with embarrassment and hate. "If I have to protect both of you," Ludwig continued, ignoring my cold stare. "Then I'm going to need some help."
I wasn't really paying attention; I was listening to the sound of approaching conscripts, and I was worried for Matthew. There was a steady trickle of blood leaving his eye socket, and if it wasn't stopped soon, Matthew might pass out.
I took Matthew to one of the nurses. Now a long bundle of linen enveloped his wound. Matthew, although properly treated, wasn't doing so well.
"A-Alfred…" Matthew beckoned faintly. When he started to sway, I ran to his side an steadied him.
"You've lost a good amount of blood," Ludwig remarked. "Let's get you to the convertible and back home. If it's still standing…" I didn't thank Ludwig for that. It was almost certain we didn't have a place to stay.
I wouldn't stay there anyway.
Matthew collapsed in the back of my red convertible. He huffed and sweated, moaning viciously as more blood trickled out.
"Matt!" I shouted, grasping his hand. "Please, calm down! You're making it worse!"
"Ng… But I f-feel like my head's g-gonna explode!" Matthew shrieked, clutching his scalp in an attempt to rip out is hair.
"Ludwig!" I called to him from the back seat. "What's wrong with Matthew? He's in a lot of pain… Not like he was a few minutes ago…"
"There might be a piece of concrete still in his head," Ludwig explained calmly while revving the engine. I was glad he couldn't see my face. "It's probably aggravating him. If that's the case, we'll need to get him to a hospital."
"Oh, gee," I said in a completely flat tone, my eyelids closed halfway in annoyance. "You see, Ludwig, all of America is covered in Russian shit right now, so a hospital is not an option."
"Then we leave the country," Ludwig answered.
At that moment, Matthew was so uncomfortable his arm muscle contracted and he punched me in the chest.
"Ow!" I flinched. "Matthew, we'll get to that hospital soon," I stared into his frightened violet eyes, "I promise." I rested Matthew's body across mine, his legs propped on my lap. Matthew was still sweating and occasionally threw a fist. His shirt was bloody and torn, and his glasses were cracked in the center.
I looked down to see my white soccer uniform turned charcoal gray from the dust. My hair was matted and greasy; I desperately begged for a shower, Ludwig said we'd have time for that later.
"Ludwig," I said, boredom taking over me. "Are we there yet?"
"You don't want to play that game with me."
"Sorry."
We had been traveling for a few hours, and the scenery was still not changing. Not that there was any. We drove silently through the west side of California. Even as we entered to countryside, deep depressions from the rockets were scattered throughout.
I kept wondering to myself what I'd gotten myself into; what was going to happen next? I wondered if there was anyway to stop, or even reverse, all of this.
"Ludwig," I started, staring into the sunset. "You said we'd leave the country. Where, or who, will we go to?"
And for the first time, Ludwig smirked.
"We're going to visit," Ludwig ran his fingers through his bleach-blonde hair, "an old friend."
Oh, boy! Finished! I'd like to thank my friend for nagging me about completing the first chapter, and to all the reviewers *WINK WINK* that have critiqued my work! And by the way... This story is serious. I'm not kidding. There will be deaths. There are traitors, if the title doesn't give it away. Expect a dark, twisted plot from the mind of a hormonally stressed-out girl. Yeah, and I have a friend who will kill me when her favorite character dies... Technically, I'm spoiling it, but NOT spoiling it at the same time. Wierd, huh?