SO~ First fanfiction submitted to this site w hope you all likey~

I may also be found on DeviantART under the same name =3=

Contains: Murder, surprisingly no blood, Canada, America and I guess swearing...I can't remember~ I swear a lot so it probably does :'D

ENJOY~

Canada smiled to himself. There weren't many times he had ever felt positively proud of something he had done, or a goal he had acomplished but right now...he would admit he was suffering the sin of pride. It probably wasn't a smart thing to have done but he couldn't have cared less really - the point remained that he had finally done it.

He'd finally reached his goal.

Finally done something no one else had.

He'd finally killed America.

He hadn't set out that day with the sole intent of killing America. It had just started out with America calling him over to watch some movie with him (probably called him because he'd already called every other nation in the world and they'd turned him down). So Canada, being the polite Canadian as he was, drove to America's house and knocked on the door. America had answered it.

"Who are you?" he had said.

Canada grit his teeth before answering, his words sounding like those you may hear from someone on the brink of commiting a homicidal act, "I'm Canada."

America had blinked a few times before saying, "Who?"

Canada had snapped.

Now the blonde nation sat next to America's limp body. There had been no blood as he'd simple choked America to death, the other nation too in shock to do anything about it. Canada had noticed half way through strangling America that it had seemed like something had dawned on his twin brother - Canada gathered that he must have remembered who he was because he had seen hurt in America's eyes then...but he'd remembered too late.

What was done was done.

He couldn't change anything about that.

...not that he'd want to.

Canada stood up and tapped America's body with his foot.

"Definitely dead..." he stated before crouching down and lifting America up and over his shoulder. Now that America was dead, he was going to ruin his life.

He disposed of America's body via the act of burning it on a fire, no evidence left behind and a fair way away from either of their houses, before heading back to America's house.

Now he was going to have some fun.

He looked at himself in the mirror, "Hrmm...I make a pretty convincing America but somethings off here eh..." he said aloud to himself.

Examining his reflection closer, he came upon the answer, "Hair."

He adjusted his parting and smoothed back his hair curl before making a cowlick. His eyes were still a different colour but he'd buy coloured contacts for that tomorrow; it was late in the evening now and he had to sleep. Seeing as he was now America, he slipped on one of is late brothers shirts and settled down. He knew America had a pet alien or something like that, but he'd also take care of that tomorrow.

He was now America.

Superpower of the world.

Once he fucked America's life up to holy hell, he'd go back to being Canada.

He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes.

It was all just a big game.