Hey there! I know this is sudden and random but I couldn't contain myself when I randomly thought of this. I was just sitting on my bed, watching Family Guy when BAM! This sucker just slammed right into my mind and wouldn't let up until I typed something. I'm sorry if it seems to be a little confusing and such... But it's suppose to be that way so I can unconfuse you as the story progresses! I believe this will be my first major fic. Measuring to be around 30 chapters. Most will be longer than this, I assure you.
Also a small note, the little italic parts that aren't talking or thoughts, are... Um... Basically a narrative of the main character further into the future letting everyone know just a bit more about all that happened... If that makes sense? Meh!
Anyway, read and review, my lovlies~ I hope this is to your liking~
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters, only the plot and voices in my head.
Warning(s): Language. Contains violence and slight gore, not much, un-beta'd.
Enjoy!
—Introduction—
"The whole thing becomes like this evil enchantment from a fairy tale, but you're made to believe the spell can never be broken."
― Jess C. Scott, Heart's Blood
This world… Has gotten so caught up on power, control, and wealth…
Bright red lights flooded the tall building, flashing against the walls. The still air was broken by the sirens, warning the occupants of the building something was wrong. Footsteps sounded faintly over the loud shrieking, people rushing about when a voice came over the speaker.
"W-Warning— Experiment 50 has e-eSCaped… D-D-Dangerou— Kill on s-s-s-igh-t—" The voice cracked, ending on a loud crash that had everybody jump out of their skins.
"Go, go, and take a gun with you! Don't leave any room unsearched! Number 50 could be anywhere and it will kill without hesitation!" A man in a black uniform began to hand guns out to other guards and even a few men in lab coats.
It gives nightmares and fear to those who walk the Earth…
A man stumbled and leaned against a wall as he continued to walk but his legs did not want to obey him. They were wobbly and felt as if any moment they would fall out from under him.
Water slipped off of his tanned skin, making the floor slippery. His bare feet splashed across it and he continued to pull himself along. Why can't I get the hang of this… He thought and growled when once again, his legs buckled and he had to catch himself on the railing of the hallway.
The red lights continued to flash and to his right, the wall was only large windows but he didn't take the time to look out. This hallway was completely deserted and it was beyond him how he hadn't gotten caught yet.
His knuckles were covered in bright red blood but the wounds have already healed. His blood did not dry and it mixed with the water, falling to the floor as he held himself up. He needed to find clothes, now that he's awake, he wasn't sure he wanted to be seen naked.
These nightmares and fears morph into the evils of the mind, plotting, waiting for opportune times to make itself known…
Three men, wearing a complete black uniform with helmets on and bulky guns walked into a room. The glowing red inside the cases of these guns meshed with the flashing lights and one gasped when they saw what had happened.
The room was torn apart, the few surgical tables were flipped, the knives and other utensils used to dig into the skin of their experiments were dug deep into the walls. The floor was completely covered in blue fogged water that came from a preservation chamber Experiment 50 had been held in. Glass littered the floor and that is when they noticed the blood.
The few scientists that have been inside the room, reviewing the papers on Number 50 were dead with huge gaping holes in their chests.
Greed… Gluttony… Wrath… Sloth… Envy… Lust… Pride…
Seven deadly sins—
"This will have to do." The man murmured; he needed to cover the giant number 50 on his back and the barcode on his neck.
He stood before a small closet with white clothing inside. It was just a simply white t-shirt and white pants. He put them on quickly, looking around to make sure no one was around incase he had to make a run for it. His legs were getting stronger and now he could walk without having to hold onto the wall.
It'd be a few more moments of getting his land-legs back before he could begin running. He wasn't even too sure how he had gotten here or how long he has been. A few months, a year? Who knows? But he was sure he wanted—needed—out of there.
Once the clothes were on, he walked out of the closet to see the dark outfit he had been dreading to see. "Damn it." He hissed; he didn't want to keep hurting people.
The man in black spotted him and turned, gun pointing but before he could shoot or call for backup, the gun had morphed to where the part pointing towards him was sharp and glistening with freshly melted metal and somehow shoved deep into his chest. He gasped, blood spluttering from his mouth as he fell.
Number 50 walked across the hallway as quickly as he could without putting stress on his legs and looked at the person he had just killed.
What if this person had had a wife? Kids?
He hated shedding their blood but they always happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…
These sins—bring on the worst in everybody. Cause such bad things to happen. But we are just so blinded by ignorance that we don't understand we are the fucking cause of this world turning to trash.
The alarms had yet to be turned off, making listening to Number 50 hard. Two men sat in the security room, watching each TV, looking for him. But every single time he showed up on camera, one flash of blue eyes and the screen went black.
"God damn it! Someone needs to turn off that damned alarm. It is pissing me off!" The eldest of the two complained, slamming down his coffee. They were ordered to stay in the room, not able to join in on the action.
It has been way too long since any of the experiments have even attempted to escape and he was curious to see if it would make it would of the building. Any others never have.
"Calm down, will ya'? Complainin' won't shut 'em off." The other man rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaned back in his chair.
"Yeah, well, how do they expect to find him like this?" The eldest retorted.
The younger sighed, nothing but a big pain in the ass, he thought.
The door behind them banged open, causing both of them to jump in their seats and turn to see who it was.
A man wearing all white, no shoes, wheat blond hair and glowing blue eyes stood there with his head cocked. He frowned, "Well, this wasn't the room I was looking for." His voice held an accent neither of them had ever heard and they believed it was that of the Lost, instantly knowing this man—thing—was Number 50.
The eldest of the two shot up with a small hand gun pulled from the holster, a red glow emanated from the barrel. "Come in here so I can restrain you, Number 50." His voice wavered but he didn't take the gun away from it, knowing how dangerous 50 was, but not expecting just how dangerous he was.
"I'm getting so tired of seeing your guns pointing at me…" 50 drawled, frown intensifying. "But I guess if you are looking for a fight…" 50's blue eyes flashed before a smirk pasted itself onto its lips and the lights went out.
But then… Something happens—
Screams echoed out into the security room, the lights remaining off and the blaring of the warning siren was now muted.
He could hear shouts of orders outside the room as he stood in the doorway, hands on his hips and with a rise of his brow, he shut the two men up and entered fully into the room so the guards would pass without him being noticed.
As easily as he was able to end the men's hearts, it was increasing the blood stains on his hands. He had a conscious—as hard as it was to believe—and this was tearing him apart. But he wanted out; he wanted to live—despite everything he had done.
As far as he knew, these men have done worse things than him. The entire time he has been here, he would occasionally wake up to pain, finding a knife digging into his chest, stomach, legs or arms. They never gave him any type of drug and he had to be held down until he passed out from the pain.
He was never full conscious enough to fight back.
But he has been planning this day. The day when he would gain his freedom!
War, hurt, pain, screams, blood, murder... The world only seen in hate. With the blood of thy enemy, we will paint our home in red…
When they finally passed, 50 ran out of the room and sprinted down the hallway with feeling now completely in his legs. He felt a little wobbly every now and then but he was able to pull through.
With the darkness on his side, he was able to hide in the shadows whenever somebody came too close. He didn't want to just keep killing, over and over.
Every time he passed a door, he would open it and look inside, but couldn't find what he was looking for. Somehow he knew it was there, he could sense it but the smell was everywhere. For a moment, he stopped, closed his eyes and relaxed himself, listening…
He heard guards coming his way, he heard shouts and other strange noises that he wasn't sure belonged to the occupants of the building.
Then… There it was—he could feel it. What he was looking for, it is there, close… so close…
He took a step forward and opened his eyes, able to see a small bit of blue smoke that would lead him to where he was looking for. He followed it, sticking close to the walls and sneaking passed the blind guards that would run right passed him without a single glance. He almost laughed at it, but then remembered it would give away his location and… Well, that would be pretty inconvenient.
When he saw that the smoke went straight through a wall with no door, he sighed and smacked his forehead. Really? He thought with a roll of his eyes but nonetheless he walked forward and pressed the palm of his right hand against the wall and watched as blue vein-like cracks spread throughout the wall.
He could hear more guards coming and he was about ready to just give all this up but smiled when the wall exploded, pieces shooting out around him and towards the guards, blocking their way towards him. He passed through the now large gaping hole in the wall and wiped the dust off his shoulders. This was becoming pretty easy and he didn't even have to use too much power.
In a glass tube was a sword. It looked almost like a broken piece of shrapnel. It held many jagged points, forming almost a flame that was as long as 50's arm. A long indented vein spread throughout it.
Number 50 broke through the glass easily and grabbed onto the sword, the vein immediately filled with a blue light that matched his eyes so easily.
Without taking notice of the consequences…
Number 50 passed through the hole in the wall once more to see about 4 guards living and were trying to sneak up to him. He smiled, prominent canines biting into his bottom lip as the blue light began to glow brighter and extend up his arms, taking on an almost crack-like appearance before it stopped halfway up his bicep.
"Why can't you give up so I don't have to keep hurting you lot?" Number 50 sighed and looked around at the men before they shouted and screamed as they were thrown through the opposite wall and out into the open air.
Number 50 was close behind as he just jumped out and straightened himself out before he disappeared into the air with a crack of blue electricity and reappeared next to one of the guards, slicing off his head and disappeared again.
He passed over to another and threw him against the building, pressing against his back as they fell and making flesh and blood rub at the side of the building. He jumped away and vanished when he was sure the man was dead.
At the next one, he grabbed his neck and both of them disappeared and he was at the last, shoving his sword deep into his chest, still holding onto the throat of the other. The guard gripped at his hand as it tightened around his neck and he pulled the sword out of the now dead man and sliced it through the choking mans stomach.
Once more, he was gone, leaving a small spark of blue in his wake before he smashed down onto the ground, outside of the building. Concrete from where he landed flew up and away from him, a strong gust of wind coming from his feet and he stood to see around him.
Our world, has been torn, broken down and made into nothing. Brought back only by metal.
Number 50 heard all the guns cock before he saw over 50 men in steel uniform and helmets, pointing guns at him. He looked over them lazily, watching as how the sound of each gun just dared him to take a step forward.
Which he did and the moment he stepped down onto a step leading towards them, they all fired.
50 continued to walk down the steps, guns firing, blasting away the concrete below his feet and he could feel the sharp peel of wind as a bullet flew passed him, leaving red smoke in its wake.
But as each bullet attempted to hit his person, a blue almost crystal like shield would pass over and block the bullet and vanish until it showed up to block another small red piece of metal.
He frowned, not too pleased with how eager they were to do away with his life.
He knew he could hold no sympathy for these human beings, they didn't deserve any. So with that thought, the almost clear crystal barrier popped up and he pulled the sword out from behind him and began to sprint towards the guards.
Bullets continued to wiz passed him but none of them—no matter what power they held—could pass through his shield and he inwardly smirked at that.
He pushed passed the few guards at front and shoved through others with his sword, blood flying in the air along with bodies and broken weapons. He continued to mercilessly shovel through them, stabbing one in the chest and cutting another in half.
He jumped into the air before one of the guards and knocked him over the head with the sword and threw it up into the air to catch the gun the guard dropped. He caught his sword in his other hand, embedded it into the ground and spun, pulling the trigger and watched as the bullets mowed down the others.
Number 50 dropped the gun; flipped over one of the guards while he grabbed the others head and landed on another mans shoulders while the one he was holding was thrown into the air. With his legs, he spun and snapped the mans neck he was sitting on and jumped away from the now limp body.
There are those who stand up, bringing back the call of love and freedom. But they are brought down by the Reapers. Showing there can be no free rein of thought, there is a fucking leash on all of our necks…
The men just keep coming but 50 continued to fight, frown still pasted onto his lips.
Wanting nothing more, he extended his shield and it knocked all the guards down, spears protruded from the crystal like glass and stabbed through the men.
Number 50 disappeared and reappeared behind the hoard of guards and walked passed them, his eyes never leaving the ground because he knew this wasn't over. Then, he closed his eyes and stopped walking, waiting until he heard the familiar sound of the guns getting ready.
Right as the bullets came at him again, his eyes snapped open, glowing bright blue with a thin line of smoke floating up into the air and he could hear the screams. Behind Number 50, every single gun had burned their holders hands and turned towards them, shooting down each guard.
When he no longer heard them, he turned to see no more remained and he sighed in relief.
If we dogs disobey, we must be put down. That is the rule.
50 stared at the men, his eyes intense as each body turned to ash. They didn't deserve a proper burial. Their ash can move with the wind and become one with mother nature.
Number 50 never believed in using so much violence, but these men were not hero's. They were the villains he needed to destroy to protect all that he cared for. He needed to protect his brother, his Ma and his Pa.
He just hoped they didn't forget him.
He turned around to begin his search of his family when his eyes widened and a gasp escaped his lips.
The world you perceive is no longer. There is no more life, no more love, no more freedom—
Before him was a world he had never seen before. Buildings were high into the sky, over-passing graying clouds from pollution. Cars he didn't recognize were floating in the air like planes. He stood on the edge of a piece of concrete and when he looked down, he couldn't see the ground below.
It was fogged but he saw lights of more cars.
No matter where he looked, there was no green, no more trees, grass, flowers… His world was gone. Everything was…gone…
He had been asleep for years, stuck inside that fucking test tube for...years… How long? How long has he exactly been asleep? Is his family even still alive?
Voices reached his ears, that of the civilians. He could see them, walking along floating sidewalks. How was this even possible…? He wondered, tears filling his eyes. He didn't want this. How could anyone want this?
A sound that was like metal scraping against metal sounded and he turned to find a tall—person—of about 7'2 wearing a black cloak. Number 50 could not see their face or any body part for that matter.
Black smoke radiated off of the cloak as it seemed to move in wind that wasn't even there.
The person was holding a large staff… A scythe. The blade was black and oozing goo that melted through the concrete when touched. A giggle came from the darkness of the hood that struck 50 in a way he hasn't felt before… A tinge of fear danced down his spine and when whatever it was took a step forward, he panicked.
Looking down, he took a deep breathe and leapt over the edge, hoping that this world wasn't completely empty of nature but he was wrong… This place held no green…
—Only metal.
To Be Continued. . .
Oh also, a little note here... If you review, don't be afraid to let me know of anything I need to improve on. As said this is un-beta'd so I need to know if anything is messed up, if it doesn't make sense, etc...
Until next time.