Thanks to all of you out there for reading this! If you could be so kind as to review this work, then I'd be so happy! Plus, you'd get a mention in the next chapter!

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Welcome to my nightmare

I think you're gonna like it

I think you're gonna feel like you belong

The figure in the distance seemed to be singing a song to their group of travelers. The countries, all twelve of them, squinted at the anthropomorphic shape that stood in the distance. His face was obscured by the thick fog that swirled around them.

He wore a cape that swirled around his ankles much like the fog did except that unlike the misty grey fog, the cape had shape, density, and color: black on the outside and a rich, crimson color on the lining. A black top hat with a hatband of the same crimson perched almost mockingly on the figure's head. The strange thing was not the figure himself even his outdated clothing; instead it was the fact that the minute details, like the color of the narrow hatband on an even smaller hat or the fact that he was wearing pristine white gloves, stood out yet his face was indistinguishable.

As they got closer they noticed the crisp folds in the slacks the figure was wearing and the way the clean, black and white derby shoes on his feet creased as he stepped. His feet seemed on the small end for a man, but that was noticed by none in the group as each strived to be the first to recognize the face. A feeling of familiarity hung about each of the men, the unshakable feeling of "I've seen him before but don't know from where". The pace that they took, their pace faster than the mysterious figure lurking in the mist, revealed to them that he was wearing a well-pressed, clean white shirt, the same unmarked pure color as his gloves. Or were his gloves the same color as his shirt? What did it matter anyways? Each man hunted the figure to be the first to find another clue as to his identity.

Too close. They must have gotten too close, as a pair of enormous Dobermans lunged at them from either side. There were four of the dogs, each as big as a garbage truck, waiting to snap up their next meal as quickly as possible so as to satisfy their ever-gnawing hunger. Someone in the group screamed and began muttering prayers, the rest of the group jostling and shoving as all of the individuals tried for the center of the pack; none wanted to be eaten alive. Just as the countries began to argue and fight, not noticing the dogs prowling closer, the figure paced closer, beginning their song from where they left off in a quiet yet indistinguishable voice, snapping their fingers at the dogs to make the gargantuan canines relent from their gory path.

A nocturnal vacation

A necessary sedation

You wanna feel at home 'cause you belong

As he lifted his arms, the creases formed in an unnoticed black sports coat because of the action caught their attention. The fog had dissipated all of a sudden (or so it seemed, time did not exist in this realm) and the group froze as they spotted the jet-black panthers prowling just on the edge of existence. A nightmare, perhaps? Or a dream? A dream of power?

It seemed, as they allowed their vision to graze off of what was the dreary landscape, that they had stumbled into the living graveyard of someone's dreams. Or, rather, the ever-expanding kingdom of someone's nightmares.

One of the panthers, the ring of which was much closer now, snarled. A wolf's growl answered it almost immediately, most likely telling it to leave the domain of his master's mind's terrors. Their attention turned back to the figure as the animal slunk away. He was lounging on a king's throne carved out of cherry wood. Next to him, in the queen's seat, lay a black wolf, content as the man stroked between its large, erect ears. Both the prince's seat, to the left of the figure, and the princess's seat, to the right of the wolf, were empty.

Welcome to my nightmare, came a rumbling, growling voice from the wolf, which loped off after delivering its line.

The figure stood, strode a few leisurely paces toward the group, and folded himself into a deep, almost mocking, bow. As she stood up, the brunette's hair tumbled down her back as she sang in a soft, yet clear voice, almost wanting to induce terror amongst the members of the group.

Welcome to my breakdown

I hope I didn't scare you

That's just the way we are when we come down!

We sweat and laugh and scream here

'Cause life is just a dream here

You know you feel right at home here

Welcome to my breakdown, ohh

You're welcome to my nightmare, yeah

Kat gasped, sitting straight in her cushioned seat around the meeting table. Her cheek was slightly moist, and there was a little puddle of the clear liquid on the table.

Ew. Why must I drool when I sleep?

"Whoa! I just had the most weirdest dream ever! You were in it, Kat!" Alfred, her best friend said, turning to her. Her seat was between Alfred and his shy twin brother, Matthew.

"Weirdest," Arthur muttered. Alfred shot a pointed glare his way.

"Was it the one where I was some… I dunno, magician in the land of nightmares? With the oversized Dobermans?"

"Si. That was mine," Antonio, the personification of Spain, murmured. His eyes widened as he saw what she was wearing.

Kat immediately looked down at her ensemble. "Holy-!"

"Mon amor, I believe you dreamt a little too hard," Francis chuckled.

"How the heck did that get there?" Kat wondered. Arthur looked at her, concern filling his emerald eyes. Her grey-blue eyes met his, and she nodded. "Go on. I'll be out soon."

Kat stood, pushed in her chair, and walked over to the convenient full-length mirror. What she saw almost didn't surprise her.

It was her. But there were a few subtle differences that, if she hadn't noticed them, might have allowed her to walk away without a thought as to why she was wearing what she was wearing.

Her hair was wavier, in a subtly gorgeous way. And the tone was somehow richer, more colors blended with the normal brown that her hair was. Blonde, black, even a little red was blended into the shade that fell over her reflection's shoulders.

Her eyes… were a bright red. The deep red that holds your eyes in a mysteriously powerful, alluring gaze.

Her lips were twisted in a knowing smirk. The kind that always resides upon the face of the antagonist in a novel.

Kat's mirror self took the hat from her mirror head and spun it in her hands once, then waved her hands and-poof!-it was gone. Kat slowly lifted her hand up to her head, barely daring even to breathe. The hat was gone.

The reflection slid her narrow, gorgeously tan fingers out of the blindingly white gloves, and stuck them in the pockets of the sports coat. Kat put her hands into the pockets, and felt a soft white mass there.

The reflection waved her hands in a mocking fashion at Kat's ensemble. For a moment, and only that long, Kat felt as though she'd been hit in the gut. Then, as she looked herself over, she saw that she wore a graphic tee, jeans, and a navy hoodie. A pair of red Converse were on her feet over Kat's favorite brand of socks. The crimson bow tie that had previously caressed her throat was gone.

Kat looked back at her mirror self one last time before running, terror-stricken, after her friends. The girl had been seated upon the throne once more, stroking the black wolf again. She seemed to be saying, Until we meet again, Katerina.

Welcome to my nightmare.

_Read the A/N below, plz!_

So! This is my first entry in my 100 themes challenge, which I decided to do for Axis Powers-Hetalia. It's "Introduction", so I decided to start with a warm welcome. Welcome to my nightmare, in fact. No, I meant the song. "Welcome to My Nightmare". By Alice Cooper. If you haven't already guessed, I'm going to do my 100 themes in the form of song. I think it'll be fun. Most of them won't even make sense. But hey, that's just how I roll. Rock and roll. But… I hope you enjoy, and I'd love to hear your guesses for "Love", the second theme of the 100