Hey! Me again with a new story. I know, I'm sorry... I need to update the others but this just seemed like an amazing idea...

Also, I'm sorry if this chapter here goes by way too fast, like everything is rushed... It's a simple introduction and the other chapters will be more "action-y", know what I mean?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy what I have so far!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of it's characters! I only own this story plot!

Chapter 1

Introduction

"This place is definitely going to need a lot of work…" Alfred stood in the living room of the house his friends and him have bought to remodel and live in. It's apparently over a 100 years old, standing in the middle of a forest. A gravel road stretched out for miles until it reached another un-used road. It was about an hour and a half to reach the city each of them has lived in for a few years.

It hasn't been used for god knows how long.

It literally has no color on the outside other than brown, but on the inside, the walls were an off-white, stains covered every wall, each of different color. But the most prominent was a brown, one each of them recognized as not being a normal stain from age…

Almost every corner of the walls held a cobweb that hung low to the floor, an old molding couch was flipped and what looked like slices from a knife covered most of the cushions.

In the kitchen, broken plates littered the ground, the doors to the cabinets were ripped off or hanging by a single hinge, the table in the dining room was upside down, one of the legs removed so only long sharp splinters remained.

Alfred, Arthur, Matthew and Ivan walked up the creaky stairs to reach the second level. The groan of each step echoed throughout the house, making Alfred's shoulders tremble with fear.

Matthew's foot fell through one of the wooden steps and he let out a yell, only to be caught in the strong arms of the Russian who set him at the step above the one he fell through, "Be careful, da,"

Matthew nodded and they continued up.

Once at the top of the stairs, they came to a narrow hallway, two doors stood on each side. They went to investigate.

Matthew and Ivan went to the farthest room to their left, it had no door. A bed lay against the wall, it was twin, only one mattress, it was cut into and springs protruded out of the bedding.

The window was broken and the curtain was shredded. Glass littered the floor and a hole was in the wall, as if punched through.

Arthur and Alfred went into the first door on the right; there was nothing inside but only chains with cuffs at the end of each one. More brown spots painted the walls, looking redder than the others.

The window was bolted over with blocks of wood, and brown/red footprints led to the doorway the two stood at.

All four of them were beginning to have doubts about even attempting to fix the place up but it was a challenge, one they were willing to take.

The four of them, together, checked the bathroom. Nothing was inside, save for a large bathtub. The shower curtain was torn off a few hooks, but was covering the majority of the tub.

Alfred, becoming brave for this one moment, walked forward and moved the curtain only to gasp, bringing a hand over his mouth. The others looked and just about did the same thing.

Inside the tub was faded red blood, it coated the walls of the tub, leaving no white, maggots sat inside, eating at the remains of the red liquid.

Matthew backed out of the bathroom; tears were in his eyes, what happened here?

Ivan walked out to comfort him, bringing him into a hug when the other two walked out as well.

"Well, I'm not giving up on this place." Alfred stated, looking around the walls.

"The house is a bloody pigsty, but I suppose we can fix it up." Arthur looked to Matthew who gripped at the Russian's arms.

"Okay…" He whispered, nodding in agreement. He didn't like the way it looked, so he supposed the only way to change that was to make it look better.

Ivan nodded, his usual smile gone, replaced by thin lips in a straight line. "What about the other door?" He asked and everybody turned to the last door on the right, nobody made a move to open it so Ivan slowly let go of Matthew, running his fingers through the blond frizz before walking to the door.

He tried turning the doorknob, but it didn't budge. He shoved at it, it still didn't move. The door looked newer than the rest; it was made of some metal. It was locked from the inside.

"Back up, let the hero handle this," Alfred rolled up his sleeves, rubbing his hands together before he ran at the door, using his shoulder to push against it. It still didn't move and the American rubbed at his shoulder. "Damn door…"

"Maybe we should leave it… Get started on the downstairs…" Matthew suggested and the others nodded in agreement.

"Phew," Alfred said, heaving the couch outside with Ivan. He popped his neck and stretched his arms above his head, "What time is it?"

"A little passed 2."

"Let's eat some lunch!" Alfred cheered, walking back into the house to get the others. The four walked outside towards the American's hummer where he left the lunchboxes.

Matthew's cheeks had black soot over them, as did Arthur's since they both were cleaning out the kitchen while the other two were fixing up the living room.

Alfred munched on a hamburger he had picked up from McDonald's on the way there, Arthur and Matthew ate a chicken sandwich while Ivan ate nothing, he only pulled out a canteen of vodka and was slurping on that.

They sat in silence, occasionally looking back at the house and groaning inwardly to what they still need to continue till it got too late and had to go back to the motel.

Once done eating, Alfred rubbed his hands together, "Okay, let's finish cleaning it out then we can paint the walls tomorrow. Sound good, dudes?"

"Yeah," Matthew smiled at him,

"I guess," Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Da," Ivan mimicked the Canadian's smile and they went back inside to finish off the cleaning.

Matthew threw more plates and glass into the garbage bag as Arthur did the same, but he eventually got up, walked over to the cabinets and started to tear the doors to them off.

"What are you doing?"

"We need new ones anyway, right?" He said, leaving to grab the screwdriver and began to screw off the cabinets themselves.

…..

Ivan and Alfred finished the living room after wiping the spider webs down so they decided to go upstairs and remove the bed.

They heaved it up after Ivan moved his scarf out of harms way and they began their descend down the stairs. Ivan was careful to avoid the hole in the stairs since he was walking backwards with the bed in hand.

Alfred walked over it and they were both a little scared one would slip and fall but pulling through, they got down to the final level and brought it outside, throwing it in the bin with the couch and other trash that had been brought out of the house.

They removed the chains, and decided they would leave the tub and bring over other friends tomorrow to help with the house so they went back to the motel.

Matthew dried his hair as he got out of the bathroom from taking a shower and sighed, sitting on the bed where the Russian lay, reading a book. On closer inspection, the Canadian identified it as being a bible.

"Why are you reading a bible?"

"It's the only thing to really do in here, da."

"I thought you didn't believe in God, though,"

"I don't, probably never will. I just enjoy reading about whatever man came up with this," he chuckled, never taking his eyes off the bible.

Matthew rolled his eyes, leaning back on the bed and looked towards Ivan. Violet eyes looked away from the bible and looked into indigo, "Da?" He asked, tilting his head a bit to the side.

"Mm… Nothing." The Canadian shrugged his shoulders. He was a little nervous being alone with the Russian, sure they share a room with Alfred and Arthur but they left to go get some food for dinner. But it was late, so they were probably just going to go to bed after they got some food into their stomachs.

Ivan put the book down on the side table and pulled Matthew close, both now resting on their sides. "Are you sure?" He asked, gently pressing his nose to the others.

"Yeah, Vanya." Ivan smiled at the use of his childhood nickname and pressed a small kiss to the Canadian's lips right when Alfred decided to work on his great timing and burst through the door,

"Oh jeez, guys, no! I don't want to see this," Alfred put his hands over his eyes, inching over to the small table that stood in the room to put down the pizza he had picked up.

Arthur walked in after with crossed arms and a scowl, "it was just a kiss," he said to the American,

"But Iggy, it's gross seeing that commie bastard French my bro!"

"We weren't even using tongue!" Matthew shouted, throwing his pillow at his twin brother. The American chuckled, catching the pillow and setting it down.

"C'mon guys, foods done."

Ivan got up and walked over, Matthew in tow. Once all of them were seated, the Russian picked up his slice of meatlovers pizza,

"What is this slop?" He asked, glaring at the American.

"It's called pizza. And it's not slop! This shit is the shit!"

"Not really."

"Awww, Iggy"

Matthew tuned everyone out, taking small bites of his pizza. He had a really bad feeling setting in the pit of his gut. He didn't like it at all. It's been sitting there ever since they got to the house. It just didn't seem right…

Francis, Ludwig, Feliciano and Antonio stood before the house with Alfred, Arthur, Matthew and Ivan.

"Mon dieu! This place looks so disgusting!" Francis exclaimed.

"Frog…" Arthur whispered

"Well, let's get this done." Toni smiled and started towards the house with two buckets of white paint. All the walls have been wiped down and the floors were swept so it was now ready for some paint!

Everyone followed after the Spaniard; Ludwig, Ivan and Alfred went up the stairs to get the tub out of the house while the others started with painting the living room.

Alfred had left the radio in his hummer on; it blasted and sounded throughout the house. Giving everybody a beat to dance to as they did their thing.

It was getting dark; every room was painted by all the helping hands. They walked outside towards the hummer, stretching out their kinked muscles.

Tomorrow they had decided to bring in the furniture and put up the cabinets in the kitchen.

The bad feeling Matthew had still hadn't disappeared, also he noticed a change in Ivan. He was acting weird, not talking as much as he used to, that childish smile rarely showed itself and he would stay up for hours, getting maybe a little bit of sleep.

The Canadian was worried for him, he was paler than normal so he believed he was sick but knowing the Russian, he'd lie and say he was fine.

That night, he lied in bed next to Ivan facing his back. He hadn't been able to sleep so he whispered "Vanya… Are you awake?"

"Da…" He slowly turned around enough to look at Matthew and reached out, moving the blond hair from his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. But what about you? Are you feeling okay? Is something wrong?"

"I am fine. Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"

"Oh…Nothing." Matthew shrugged his shoulders the best he could and cuddled up to the Russian, smiling faintly when strong arms wrapped around him.

"I've just been tired, my sunflower. Don't worry about me," Ivan whispered, pressing his lips to Matthew's forehead before he finally fell asleep.

Two weeks later, the four had finally finished moving their things in. Refurnishing every room, giving them king sized beds, the bathroom was removed of the god awful bathtub and replaced with a new one and a shower. The carpenters had come in, leaving beige carpet on the ground. The plumbers also came, giving them better running water and helped bring in the toilet and shower head and sinks.

Matthew put in his last shirt in the dresser on his side of the room and set his hands on his hips.

"Done." He said happily. The house looked so much better; the outside was even fixed up. It looked as good as new!

He was still worried for Ivan though. He seemed to be getting worse, weaker in fact. His eyes were outlined with black circles from lack of sleep, his face was pale and his cheeks were rosy, he had to sit down from standing too long and he kept getting cold. It was the end of summer, and he was wearing a large coat, scarf and thick pants.

Right now, he was laying in the king sized bed that belonged to both him and Matthew; he was under the blankets, still staring at the ceiling. Unable to sleep,

"Do you need anything, Vanya?"

"Nyet, I am fine." He said and smiled at the Canadian.

Matthew nodded and went to the door, "I'll be back in a few, okay?" Ivan nodded in response so the Canadian walked out, closing the door behind him and skipped down the new stairs to the kitchen where Alfred and Arthur were hanging out.

Alfred was cooking a hamburger to eat while Arthur sat at the table, reading a newspaper and sipping on some tea.

"Is he getting any better, lad?" Arthur looked up from the paper towards Matthew,

"No… I'm afraid not, I don't know what's wrong with him."

"Maybe we should call in a doctor?"

"Yeah, you're right. I'll call one tomorrow."

The Brit nodded, looking back to his newspaper.

Tonight was going to be their first night and Matthew was terrified. He was still a little scared of the house from what it looked like before and the feeling in his stomach still hadn't gone away.

He got a glass of water and ran up the steps, taking two at a time. Once in the room, he handed Ivan the water who gladly took it.

"I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow." Matthew stated and Ivan looked at him, a blank expression on his face as he set the water on the nightstand.

"Nyet, I am fine."

"No you aren't… You can't fool me, look at you!"

"This? It doesn't matter." He pointed to his pasty skin, "I will be better soon."

"That isn't now, though. Please, Vanya… Please," Matthew begged, sitting on the bed next to the Russian.

Ivan sighed, "Fine…" He complied, holding out his hands for Matthew to lay with him. Matthew closed his eyes; resting his head right next to Ivan's and fell fast asleep listening to the calm breaths of the Russian.

"No, please, stop!" Someone begged, sitting on their knees before another. His arms were chained to the wall behind him and he pulled at them. "Don't hurt me…"

"I am sorry but I can't do that." A smirk pasted itself on the others face as he brings up the whip and strikes it down onto the chained down mans face –

"NO!" Matthew jolted up, sweat dripped from his forehead and he wiped it away. He felt a tug on his shirt and looked down to see Ivan looking concerned.

"Nightmare?" He asked.

Matthew nodded in response, getting off the bed he looked back to the Russian, "I'll… be back, I have to get a glass of water."

Without waiting for a response he walked out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. He turned on the light and froze. The shadow under the table was producing a pale limp hand with blood covering it.

It lay on the floor, unmoving. He couldn't see the rest of the body, all he could see was the outline of it and he couldn't move.

The hand twitched and finally Matthew came to life, he screamed, staring at the hand and ran out of the kitchen. Alfred ran down the stairs and grabbed onto his brother.

"What is it? What?" He tried to speak over the yelling. Matthew stopped screaming and broke into sobs,

"S-someone is in the ki-kitchen… T-they are under the table, there w-was b-blo-blood…" Matthew stuttered, holding onto his twin.

"I'll go look,"

"NO! Please, no. Stay here. Don't leave me." The Canadian begged, pressing his face into the others nightshirt. Arthur ran down the stairs, followed by Ivan who looked bewildered.

"Matthew, are you okay?" He asks and the shortest of them runs over to his lover, hugging him.

"He said he saw someone in the kitchen under the table with blood."

Ivan gasped, "Is there?"

"I don't know yet." Alfred said and walked into the kitchen and looked under the table. Nothing was there. It was empty. He moved the chairs, looked in the cupboard, the cabinets under the sink and even above it but there was nothing. "Mattie, are you sure you didn't just imagine it?"

"N-no, it was there! I swear! The hand even moved…"

"It might be repercussions of your nightmare," Ivan suggested, moving to the kitchen and looking in.

"B-but…"

"It's best to just go back to sleep, lad." Arthur interjected, also looking around.

But there was still nothing.

Matthew nodded slowly, "I'm going to get a glass of water…" He repeated from earlier and went to get one but jumped at every noise he heard. Alfred pushed him aside gently,

"I'll get it, okay? Go back upstairs." Matthew nodded and followed the Russian up the stairs to their room when moments later Alfred walked in with Arthur right behind him so he wasn't alone. The American was the most superstitious of them all.

Alfred said goodnight and left with Arthur to go back to sleep. Matthew chugged the water, sitting on the bed, his shoulders were shaking. Maybe… maybe it was just from the dream… Ivan's right…

Once he lay down on the bed to the now sleeping Russian, he stared at the ceiling.

A groan echoed throughout the room and he froze, not even attempting to breathe. It was a groan of pain and it came from under their bed. Ivan didn't even stir, but Matthew heard it perfectly.

I'm imagining it. This isn't real…

He watched the mirror, staring at it when it fogged over and he could almost see another face in it and screamed.