So this is my first fanfiction, and it's for Hetalia! I really wanted to write something like this but needed to find a series to write it with. It's was inspired by "The Walking Dead", as given by the use of the term "Walkers". Which for those of you who haven't watched the series yet, is another term for zombies. I used the term solely because I like it better than "zombies". However, I used both terms anyways. At any rate I hope you read the summary clearly because there will be character death. Sorry. I don't have anything against them, I swear. Excuse any grammar errors. I very briefly read over the whole thing so yeah. You should still be able to get the overall gist of it. In this story, the government and military defenses have fallen in the sudden up rise.
I don't own Hetalia nor The Walking Dead. They belong to Hidekazu Himaruya (Hetalia), and Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore and Charlie Adlard (The Walking Dead)
They were everywhere. A mess of mindless moans and grasping fingers and arms which struggled to reach him through the metal rod gate. Panting, Germany scrambled back on all fours until he was a good meter distance away from the gate with shook against it's lock almost threatening to fall open and let them in. The walkers slammed themselves against the metal frame, clawing and screaming gurgled screams as they desperately tried to get in. All the separated him and the other ex-nations from being eaten alive was a simple lock and a metal gate just over a meter and a half in height. Luckily, being mostly dead, they lacked intelligence. It was a safe bet that they wouldn't be able to get over. But the lock itself was another story. If it were to come unlatched, and it very possibly could with all the shoving bodies and writhing hands sticking through the gates, they could only hope to escape with their lives again.
As one of the resurrected dead shoved their head through the metal bars and hissed at him, Germany was snapped from his momentary shock. Forcing his shaking body up before stumbling away to join the group standing a meter away. It had been a close call for all of them. Ex-nations. Funny thing about their entire existence as countries. For as long as a government stands or the people acknowledge themselves as one group, they will be a nation. The personification of them is simply just a representation of who those people are. People nonetheless, they age at the rate of their peoples' development. If the government were to fall and the people to lose their patriotism, while their memories and experiences remained with them, they were human. It was proven a while before in a moment none wished to ever be repeated. Yet sadly it had.
Standing among him were the ex-nations that had made it with him. The others, unfortunately, were either being eaten, dead, among those slamming into the gates, or separated from them but safe. England, Sweden, Finland, Russia, Spain, Southern Italy, Prussia, Belgium and Lithuania. It disturbed Germany in many ways as to how small their group had gotten after they unintentionally stumbled into a swarm of them on the highway. Right after they thought they managed to escape the city, it turned out there was another large group awaiting them outside. Had France not…Germany shook the possibility of what very likely happened to him from his head he notice something else. First of all, it wouldn't be entirely accurate to say France was gone, eaten, gutted, or dead at the moment. He had stayed back to hold them off for a bit with Denmark so that they could get away. No questions asked. If they were to volunteer the gun would be trained on their heads.
"We'll leave you as a distraction then."
It was cowardly; Germany couldn't even bring himself to think about why he had just left them. He supposed none of them could. He could only remember turning around and watching one of the resurrected launch itself at the Dane. He nearly tripped then causing his attention to refocus but he could hear, loud and clearly his screams. Although, he knew France from numerous historic events dated in those forgotten history books. The German knew he wouldn't go down easily. Yet, the swarm of those before him…definitely told a different story.
However, that wasn't what had caught his attention. He counted the heads in the group, 9. How many were in their group after leaving the city. 15. Well, nothing compare to what they had before entering that god damn city. 6 were missing, minus France and Denmark. That makes 4…
"Fuck. Which four?!" Germany thought frantically looking through all the faces. Oh god… At the thought of the missing face he almost fainted. It had been hectic ever since they left the city; many fell behind and didn't make it. Though there was hardly any time to count and record the missing faces. They automobiles they arrived in, already running low on gas were swarmed by the group with little room to maneuver around. They had to make it by foot. Yet, he had thought that Italy would at least be near him! He cursed himself for being so selfish and foolish to think such but Italy's own two feet were enough of insurance at the time. Everyone was simply trying to get out intact and alive. All around them were screams and cries of agony as a walkers took down another one of them. It was hard to pinpoint anybody in the chaos. Even so…
Italy's older brother, Romano, seemed to realize just as Germany had.
"Ch-Che cazzo?! You bastards…where the fuck is Veneziano?!" Romano screamed causing uproar in the crowd behind them. It seemed like at that moment everybody finally woke up from the shock they were in only to be thrown into further trauma at the missing faces.
"Potato bastard!"
"Bruder! God thank you!"
"Ah…that many are gone?!"
"I didn't think we lost that many!"
"Sweden! Did you see the others?"
"Poland!"
Everybody started to mutter among themselves, some shouting and looking for someone in blind hope they missed their face the first time. Others curled themselves into a small ball and buried their faces into their knees.
"You fucking bastard. Where is my brother! He was with you wasn't he?! You fucking asshole, asshole, asshole." Romano had abruptly shoved Prussia away from Germany before grabbing him by the collar. The edges of his eyes starting to shine with tears as he drew his fist back while cursing the German. Germany himself was too stunned to even pay attention to what was going on.
"I-I…." I can't believe I lost him myself.
"FUCKING ASSHOLE." Romano swung forward with all his might in one punch straight to the face. Caught off guard, the German reeled over with a surprised grunt. Romano on the other hand was fueled with rage and wasn't satisfied by the small noise, he was looking for blood. Hatred coursed through him, not just for the German but for himself. It was his own brother, his own blood. He knew it was ridiculous to be blaming Germany for losing his own brother when he should've taken charge. He only ran. Like a coward. He ran from a lot of things in life but to have run from his brother. He almost wanted to throw himself into the crowd of hungry walkers. Useless, Romano could only call himself that. Although that didn't stop him from taking out his own anger.
He threw a kick into the keeled over German's stomach and was just about to elbow his head down when he felt a strong pair of hands digging into his shoulders and pulling him back. Prussia was already weak enough after his own country's dissolution. He had spent most of his time after living in Germany's basement, blogging and getting drunk. This recent incident put him in even worse of a condition. In a sense he was living off of his brother. Literally. Germany needed to stay alive and strong enough for the both of them.. Prussia was on his way to recovery though. For the time his country had dissolved into German territory, Prussia felt on edge every moment of the day. Like he couldn't fully disappear yet couldn't return to the way he was before either. Half-human, half immortal, that was truly an awful state to be in. It would've been better to just become human all of a sudden. Sure there was the initial shock but it wasn't agonizingly stretched out like it was for him. That being said, he adjusted quicker than the others who even had difficulty breathing for a while. Prussia felt himself slowly returning to the state before his dissolution. As if it was like for all that time he was simply chained to his brother, all possibilities and roads restricted. The chains that had weakened him were off now. He and his brother would now longer have to be a burden to each other.
"Stop it." Prussia said with an unequivocal voice and expression.
"That ass hole lost my brother! He could be dead! He couldn't have been eaten by those mother fuckers. He could be one of them now. He, he could…"
"You lost your brother. Not west."
"You!" Romano said through gritted teeth turning around abruptly and thrusting his elbow in Prussia's chin and forcing his head back.
"You little shit." Prussia said regaining his balance and planning to go at it with the Italian.
"Enough! Both of you!" Spain ordered, stepping in and restraining the furious Romano.
"BASTARD LOST MY BROTHER!" Romano struggled against Spain's vice grip but with no avail.
"YOU GET IT STRAIGHT! MY BROTHER DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! HE'S YOUR BROTHER! YOUR BLOOD! BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER, EVER HEARD THAT SAYING YOU USELESS SHIT. YOU RAN AWAY." Prussia exclaimed pointing the guilty finger at Romano's direction.
"Prussia that's enough!" Spain screamed while pulling Romano hard against his chest, effectively cutting him off from retorting. His face took on a demanding demeanor, twitching with anger, his eyes flaring with ferocity. His grip around Romano tightened subconsciously as his own anger at the two appeared to be rising. Flames would've shot out from his eyes had that been possible.
"Both of you shut the fuck up now. You're only aggravating those walkers more." He said jutting an elbow behind Prussia.
Spain wasn't as oblivious as people made him out to be. After all at one point he was a fierce conquistador who blindly took down tribes and expanded his territory far into the "new world" centuries ago. Even if he understood things, if he didn't see the difference he'd make, he simply stood at the sidelines, watching them play out before him. Sometimes it was to tease Romano other times he saw no point of having to take a position. Sure, he'd admit that while he could be a tad bit slow in the uptake at times, that didn't make him stupid. In the situation they were in now though, Spain wasn't going to stand back or pretend to not know what was going on for the sake of staying out of it. It was no longer the business of him and those close to him that he had to attend too. Seeing those nations die before him was enough to shake him out of that world.
"Now, we're at Germany's house. I guess the city didn't hold the promises the radio announced it would. So we're all going to make due with what we have. That gate doesn't appear to be holding up to well so let's get in and secure the house."
"Bastardo…" Romano said glaring at the ground before him.
"What." Spain almost spat it him, his voice practically drowned in annoyance.
"My brother. What about my brother!" Romano said, turning his head around to look at Spain as best as he could.
"He was probably taken…by them."
Silence. Everybody was silent, the only noise coming from the raging zombies behind the fence.
"Spain…" Belgium whispered calmly while placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, telling him subtly to back off. Belgium had never seen, even with all her years under his roof, Spain treat Romano with such coldness. Romano felt every bit of that unknown coldness from his former boss, felt it stab into him like shards of glass. While Spain himself, realized that what he said came out much colder than intended.
"Good job."
"Oh, shut up eyebrows! Roma, I didn't mean it like that. I just. I don't know." Spain stumbled over apologies as his anger burnt itself out. Another reason Spain never liked getting heated up in an argument. He could never understand why he did what he did. As if all there was behind each action was cruelty and animosity. Wouldn't it be better just to reject the understanding and pretend not to know? Hold back his emotions with a smile. Just smile. That's all that matters in such a twisted world.
"Fuck you too." Romano just murmured in such a hurt voice. Spain released his hold and let Romano punch him in the face. At that moment the gate began to shake and from their short distance away they could see the latch starting to shake itself unloose. It was a simply one, where all you had to do was bring it down into a metal jut to close the gate. It was small and hardly offered much protection but if Germany had known the world would spiral into hell he would've upgraded it long ago.
"I'm fine bruder. Guys we have to go now." Germany ordered while straightening himself and putting on an instructing demeanor.
"Head into the house there is a tool kit lying in the small closet next to the washroom. Hammer and nails, two of you guys go get it. Another four of you take there are some boards in the basement next to Prussia's bed from when we renovated his room. Take them and start boarding up the windows and doors. The other two of you help with that. Prussia help them and go look for other boards as well, we need as much as we can get."
"What about you?" England asked as they entered the house. Closing the door Germany seemed to hesitate before answering.
"Guns and weaponry."
"Figures."
"Well it's going to help save our asses in an emergency so I think we should be glad Germany has a stash of those." Lithuania said while hurrying downstairs after Prussia.
The entire team set to work including Spain, although all he really wanted to do was go look for Romano. Romano had separated himself immediately from the rest of the group upon entering the house and the others figured it'd probably be best to leave him along for now.
"There'd be time for that later. Right now if we don't secure this house we're all in deep shit. Let's focus on that shall we?" Finland said causing Spain to look over in amazement that the Finnish man had said exactly what he wanted to do.
"Everybody!" Germany called out, coming down stairs and disposing a pile of gunnery as well as an ax the coffee table. "Get the front windows first! I've locked the back door and front door so do those last. Prussia, we're going to need more boards. You look downstairs; I'm going to the attic."
Romano could hear the German's booming voice from upstairs in the washroom.
"Ugh…this entire place smells like German." Romano said scrunching up his nose. Perhaps he should help, yet he couldn't will himself to face everybody after what had just happened.
Cowering out again? You just never learn do you.His inner voice taunted him.
"Shut up." Romano said to no one particular as he stood up and began to walk out. That was when he heard the screams from downstairs.
"AH FUCK GUYS THEY BROKE THROUGH THE FENCE!"
"That's not good, dah?"
"Shit!"
"Front windows are good! Thank god Germany doesn't have large windows."
"I found more boards!" Prussia said coming up. "Back windows now! One of you go board up the smaller basement windows! West!" Prussia called for his brother. After no response, he tried again.
"West! Yo, bruder! Can you hear me?" Prussia hollered again moving closer to the stairs. "Guys. Back windows. Now." He said redirecting his attention momentarily before starting to climb the stairs. That was when he heard the gun shot. Everybody froze momentarily but that didn't stop the pounding by the zombies from outside.
"GO. NOW!" Prussia ordered breaking the daze everybody was in.
Romano jumped at the sound of that gun shot as he ran out of the washroom and into one of the rooms at the front of the house.
"No way! Those walking dead bastards broke through?" He said in awe as he heard more gun firing coming from the back end of the house.
"What's going on?" Germany exclaimed climbing down the ladder holding a few wooden planks between his elbow the side of his chest so that they were vertical. Jumping down from the last few steps and landing with a thud.
"T-they broke through."
"What?" Germany said racing down the stairs with the boards shouting more orders along the way. Romano however, couldn't move. He felt like he was glue to the spot and all he could do was watch then swarm around the house. In his mind, they were already screwed. Might as well save the effort, we're all going to be eaten anyways.
Today, the world ends.
There was no way out of this.
At the back of his mind Romano could register a voice calling his name, but he ignored it. That is until he picked up something else along with it. Veneziano… What?
"Romano! Come, I think…I think it's Italy, Austria, Hungary, Poland and Norway!"
"Romano! It's Veneziano!"
Impossible. Was all the ex-personification of Southern Italy could think.
Meanwhile in North America
The lights had been turned off in the room, the windows and doors boarded up and drawn over with curtains. All that dimly illuminated the area was a small hand flashlight and a few candles placed on the coffee table. The flashlight began to flicker in the user's hand as his bent over figure desperately fiddled with switching and tuners, trying to get through. At the moment any noise other than the faint buzz would be enough.
Just give me something. Anything that would prove this piece of trash not useless, anything.
"Ah, still no connection bro? Haha, don't worry, the hero will come save the day!" America laughed in a flippant manner causing Canada to jump and look up. America as usual, appeared incredibly unfazed by the situation. He had a burger in one hand and a drink in the other.
"I've played tons of zombie killing games. I can handle this shit. Don't worry." America said waving it off.
"America." Canada began glaring at his old neighbour. "Don't you realize the severity of the situation! This isn't a game. There isn't a respawn or anything!" Canada raising his voice got America's attention.
"I-I think we're just Alfred and Matthew now. There isn't any hero, or savior. It's over."
"What are you trying to say? I'm America, the hero! Blue, red and white. Colors of the hero!" America exclaimed trying his best not to acknowledge the truth. Canada was right. Their governments fell and the entire world was a mess, but America didn't want to accept that.
AND THERE WE GO! In the next chapter we'll cover what happened within the last 10 hours. Any warnings will be given at the start because I never plan out the details before writing them...In other words I just got the main idea, but may add more. Please review! And maybe fav? I know it seemed a bit OOC but I mean, the world's ending for them. :S
~SummerAnima