This story is the result of a lovely review by yaoiprincess101. She suggested a Hetalia story based off of the movie The Grudge. Obviously, this was a brilliant idea, and I was eager to try it out. Thanks, Yaoi, for your wonderful suggestion, and thanks for reading my stuff! I wuv u!
But, um, I promised this way earlier than I actually got it done, and I apologise for that. My computer was being . . . finicky, and I had finals, and I had to make my movie- Oh, yeah! I'm making a movie with some of my friends! My readers who liked Crap An Oni should love it! But, uh, I had to do that, and, uh, help my aunt move, and- you know, just a lot of stuff. Sorry, guys.
Jesus, I think there are too many characters in the movie to successfully replace with Hetalia characters. That's the reason why Sadik Adnan (Turkey) is Det. Nakagawa.
Oh, fun fact- I've never seen this movie before in my life. I just know it's supposed to be pretty good, and I want to see it sometime. Also, Numb3rs is a good show. : )
All of my info on the movie comes from IMDb- The Grudge Synopsis.
The cold October air wrapped around the Williams family, causing them to shiver in their coats as they approached their new home. Matthew sighed to himself contentedly as he examined the property. He'd be the first to admit; moving to Japan in Fall was far from the highest thing on his bucket list, but the business opportunity it provided him was practically the stuff of legend. Besides, the house was beautiful! If you're going to move to a cold town during a cold, miserable season, at least the house was nice.
His husband, however, disagreed completely. "Come on, Birdie." He groaned. "You really like this place?"
Matthew turned to look at the tall platinum-blonde. "Of course, Gil. You don't?"
"Nah, this place is creepy." Gilbert wrapped his coat tighter around his strong arms. "That, and it's freezing out here."
Al, Matt's older brother, punched Gil's shoulder lightly. "C'mon, bro, this place is sweet! Picked it out myself!" He hefted a few of the many suitcases and boxes onto his shoulders and began to take them inside. "Hurry up! It should be warmer in here!"
The thin blonde smiled at his brother. "He's right. Let's go, Gil."
Gilbert, huffing in slight indignation, lifted up a few boxes and walked inside. He looked around the house slowly as he set the luggage down. "Wow. Roomy, I guess."
"Yeah!" Al dropped the suitcases onto the floor with a grunt. He practically hopped over to his brother and brother-in-law, slinging his arms across their shoulders. "Like I said, I picked out the place, myself! I might hate you for stealing my little bro away from me," Al poked Gilbert in the chest "but that doesn't mean I'm gonna sabotage you guys!"
"Alfred!" Matt pulled away, shoving Al slightly. "Don't be so mean!"
"Ahahaha-!"
BANG!
The three went silent, eyes drifting towards the ceiling.
"Wha-?"
BANG, BANG!
"Hey, what's that, Al?" Gil demanded, scrunching his eyebrows up.
Alfred shook his head. "I dunno, man." He shrugged. "Never heard anything like that when I first checked the place out.
"And exactly how many times did you come to check this house out?" A cranky-sounding voice came from the doorway as an old, short brit walked inside.
Gil hissed. "Oh, there he is. Damn it, Arthur, didn't the caretaker back home tell you to stay in our sight?"
"Oh, bugger off, Gilbert!" Arthur barked. "I'm still sane enough not to be coddled!"
"Dad." Matthew picked at Arthur's jacket gently. "Can't you just- for once- try not to rip Gil's head off about everything?"
Arthur sighed, walking past them to the couch in the center of the mostly-empty living room, and plopping down quietly. "Fine. Just for a little while, though. Damn it, I'm fucking tired."
"I'll have the beds set up soon, Dad." Al called from the stairs, dragging wooden boards and mattresses up to the rooms.
Matt felt like laughing at him. "Well, alright. How about we start setting things up? If we get everything unpacked tonight, we can sleep all day tomorrow."
"That's a great idea, Birdie." Gil began to walk toward the stairs with a suitcase. "Let's get goin', then."
Matthew sighed to himself, rubbing his eyes and gripping the steering wheel tighter. Everyone got irritated with their jobs some days, but irritated didn't even begin to cover Matthew's thoughts on the graveyard shift at the hospital. He was tired, annoyed, and couldn't wait to get home and go to sleep. As he pulled into the driveway, the early morning light hardly peeking over the back fence, lighting up only a fraction of the front of the house. It left the rest to loom like a shadow above the Canadian. He shivered slightly at the side of it, but got out of his car, unfazed.
He pushed open the front door with a smile, expecting to find Gil waiting for him on the couch like usual. But the second the door creaked open, panic fluttered through his chest. The house was trashed- vases smashed, papers torn up and strewn across the floor, the couch and pillows shredded. He stared in horror at the sight of his dad sighting on the demolished couch, muttering something to himself again and again.
"She's coming," Arthur whispered. "She's coming, she's coming."
Matthew ran over to Arthur, crouching in front of him with a worried look plastered to his face. "Dad? Dad, are you okay? Where's Gil?"
"She's coming, she's coming."
"Dad, who was here?" Matthew questioned, gesturing broadly around the room. "And who's she? Who's coming?"
Arthur looked up at his son, despair cracking along his face and in his eyes. "She's here, Matty." He cried. "She's here!"
Frustrated and confused, Matthew tore himself away from his torn-up dad and living room, and ran up the stairs. He looked around the upstairs hallway hurriedly before running into the room he and Gil shared, and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Bir . . .die . . .?" Gilbert gasped from the bed. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and scared. He was struggling for breath, and clawing at the sheets in pain.
Matt's jaw dropped, and he had to force himself to move to his husband's side. "G-Gilbert? What . . . What happened?"
Gil shook his head, closing his eyes against the pain.
"D-Don't worry, honey, I'll- I'll call an ambulance- I'll call the police, don't worry-."
"Mroooowwww . . ."
Matthew jumped at a cat's meow. He turned towards the sound, eyes widening in shock at the sight of a small, impossibly pale boy- staring straight at him, and perfectly imitating a cat.
"Wh . . . what . . .?" Matt backed up into the closet as the boy edged closer. "No . . . No, go away . . . Go away!"
The child continued his advance.
"GET BACK!"
Al hummed to himself nervously as he set the phone back down against the dock. He'd called Matt twice already, and both had rung out and gone to voicemail. He was beginning to grow worried about his brother and his family. He grabbed his keys, huffing something under his breath about having to work so late, and began to walk out of the office. "Guess I'll go visit Matty, then."
Suddenly, he stopped. He turned his eyes slowly towards the door to the hallway- listening in complete silence as moaning drifted into the office. Moaning of pure agony and misery.
Alfred wondered what could happen to a person to make them produce a sound so pitiful. He thought for a second that he might check it out, and go help whoever was in so much pain- but the sound unnerved him to the point of quickening his step in the opposite direction. He jumped back suddenly as the lights flashed and flickered.
"What the hell . . .?" The American looked around cautiously as he headed towards the stairs. "What's going-?" He stopped as he looked over the stair rails. Al's throat tightened in fear, and his heart began to race.
Crawling up the stairs towards him- at an agonizingly slow pace- was a twig thin, impossibly pale, black haired, and blood soaked girl. She groaned weakly- the sound matching the agonized sounds from the hallway. As the girl seemed to notice Al, her groaning became more insistent- demanding. She dragged herself up the stairs faster, moaning, groaning, and reaching towards Al. Hate glowed in her eyes beneath the long, stringy black hair. "G-G- . . . R- . . .Aaaahggg . . ."
Alfred stumbled back, slamming up against the wall, and turned to run through the door. He nearly tripped over his own feet, but managed to make it back into the main office, and turned to run like hell to the security building. "Ivan! Ivan!" He called out to the Russian security officer. "Ivan, come help!"
"Hmm?" The tall Russian turned to look at Al. "What's wrong, Alfred? You get scared of your own shadow again?"
"Shut up, man! There's something insanely creepy going on here!" Alfred looked around, panicking. "You've got to help! Go do something!"
Ivan shook his head. "What's going on? I can't help if I don't know what happened."
Al clamped his mouth shut. "I- . . . I'm not sure . . ." He mumbled. "It was . . . kind of . . . dark, I guess."
"Okay, fine" Ivan grabbed his flashlight off of the desk. "I'll go check it out. You just stay here, and try not to panic."
As he began to head off towards the main office, Alfred began to freak out for real- but he managed to stay calm and do just as the guard had asked. Maybe he was right, anyway. There wasn't any real reason for Alfred to panic, was there? He'd been working long hours, and with Matty and his family moving in, he was finding it hard to take a break.
Instead of panicking, Al decided to busy himself by watching the monitors that lined Ivan's desk. He scanned them worriedly, trying to pick out Ivan anywhere. Furrowing his eyebrows, he double-checked the screens. It was strange; even though Ivan had left only a few seconds ago, Al couldn't find him. He shouldn't have been trying to avoid the cameras, and it wasn't like he was a small man. He should have been right there. The fact that he wasn't was a little more than unnerving.
Al pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes before replacing them, and rescanning the monitors. When he got to the monitor that displayed the video feed from the camera in the hallway by the stairwell, the American paled considerably. The girl- the one who had been dragging herself up the stairs towards him- was standing in the hall; stiff as a board, neck twisted around painfully.
"Oh my God . . ." Alfred backed away from the screen, his hand raising to cover his mouth in a classic horrified gesture.
The girl's head swivelled- dead eyes burning straight into the camera. She began to stalk closer; her head twisting at angles that reflected something similar to innocent curiosity. The innocence of the gesture made Al's stomach drop in his fear. What about this girl could be so terrifying? She obviously had to be some sort of joke- a cruel prank pulled by his co-workers.
Still, the predatory advance of the girl on the camera kept Alfred uneasy. Suddenly, with all the speed of something inhuman, the girl through herself at the camera, letting out a shrill screech that Alfred could hear; even from the opposite end of the building.
That was when he bolted. Alfred ran faster than his pride had ever allowed him before, making his way down into the parking garage, and fishing out his keys. Imagine his relief when he finally shut and locked the car door, pulling out of the nearly-empty garage, and speeding away as fast as humanly possible.
He pulled into the parking space in front of his apartment, trying to brush off the creepy feeling of the large building at one in the morning. He swallowed hard, not acknowledging the pale complexion and hollow eyes of the man standing vacantly in front of the out-of-order elevator as he walked past him, towards the stairs. He climbed up to his floor, humming the tune of some random anime he'd seen once to keep himself distracted from the slightly flickering lights.
Finally, however, he reached his room, sighing in contentment as he shut the door behind himself, locking and dead-bolting the door- just to be safe. Just as he was finally beginning to relax, the small intercom next to his door began making a buzzing noise.
"Whadda ya want, Matty?" Al asked upon answering, assuming his brother had come to visit.
Heavy breathing was all that responded at first.
Alfred pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at it for a second before pulling it back against his head. "Matthew?"
"Hey, Al!" Matt's chipper, quiet voice alerted Alfred more than the loudest crashing sound could in that second.
"Jesus, Matt!" Alfred shouted, laughing a bit. "Coulda answered when I first asked! Didn't have to scare me like that."
"Huh?" Static buzzed around Matthew's voice. "Sorry. Oh, but, uh, I got the message you left an hour ago. I wanted to come visit, since my phone connection is crap. This was easier."
Alfred huffed. "So, come up and knock on my door. Don't use the damned intercom at one in the morning."
"Sorry, sorry, it's just that . . ." Matt trailed off. "I forgot your apartment number."
The older brother slapped his forehead with his palm. "Jesus, Matt! You forgot my apartment number? I thought you were the responsible one!"
Matt chuckled a bit. "I said I was sorry! But, seriously. Could you just buzz me inside already? It's . . . Kind of creepy out here."
Suddenly feeling concerned for his little brother's safety, Al nodded. "Yeah, yeah, sure. My room is forty-two. I'll let you in." Pulling out his phone and hanging up the intercom, Al sent the command to let Matty inside, then began to walk towards his bedroom to change. He stopped suddenly when a knock beat out against his door.
"The hell?" Al walked back over cautiously. He knew that it would take a bit of time for Matt to climb up all those stairs with the elevators out, so it couldn't be him. He glanced out through the peephole on his door, and was surprised to see Matty actually standing there. He pulled open the door, stupid grin prepared to meet his brother's soft smile, but found no one outside. The hair began to raise on the back of his neck, but he half-jumped, half-fell back when he heard a rattling sound tumble from the speaker on his phone.
Slamming the door shut angrily, Al through his phone to the floor; stepping on and shattering it. His eyes widened as the noise continued- not faltering for a fraction of a second. He ran into his room, diving under the covers. He wrapped part of the blanket around himself, trying to calm himself down and block out the sound of that hideous rattle. Feeling something odd, Al reached down beneath the covers, producing the rabbit's foot charm that had been hung on his phone.
Alfred stared at it in shock for a moment before his eyes widened, and he threw the foot across the room. His breathing hitched as he caught a lump burrowed beneath his blanket out of his peripheral vision. He slowly turned to look at it, flinching as the shape wriggled its way closer to him. With shaking hands, Alfred slowly- calculatingly- lifted the covers.
With a shocked yelp, Al found himself face-to-face with the pale, dead-eyed girl from the office. He shrieked as she opened her mouth; her own monotone drawl adding to the electronic rattling of the broken phone. Closing her mouth abruptly, the girl grabbed Alfred by his wrists and dragged him under the covers- his shriek instantly cut off as the covers fell flat against the mattress.
Kiku sighed as he reached down to pick up more trash. He hadn't heard from the owners of the ransacked house in a while, but he put up with it. He wasn't hired to socialize. They had 'phone services' for that. No, he had been hired to watch The owner's father, Arthur, and to clean up the house. Though cleaning up the mess was a daunting challenge, in and of itself, keeping an eye on Arthur Kirkland was proving to be nearly impossible.
The older man would rant on and on about his sons being in some kind of danger; insisting that some malevolent force was ripping it's way into this plane of reality. Naturally Kiku filed this concern under 'Bullshit', and tucked it out of mind.
He was just starting on his fourth or fifth trash bag when-.
BANG!
BANG!
Kiku looked straight up; eyes focused on the ceiling above him that concealed the attic of the old house. "Hmm. I should probably go see what that is. They could be rats."
Arthur- huddled in a blanket on the couch- spat at the ground beside him. "Hah! some big rats ya got there!" His cynical green eyes narrowed at the Asian. "Where the bloody hell do you think you're going? You some kind of bloody fucking idiot?"
The Asian man shook his head lightly. "Sir, please don't be worried. I'll be right back. Maybe some kind of larger rodent got into the attic?" He turned and began walking up the stairs- ignoring for the moment the atrocious scent drifting from the owners' room, and entering the smaller room instead.
He looked around the room quietly; ignoring Arthur's panicked wails for him to come back, and instead focusing on the banging sound. He moved over to the closet, sliding it open and looking around. He smiled to himself when he found a small door in the back- one that obviously lead to the attic. "There." Kiku pulled his lighter out- flicking it on- and pushed open the door.
He climbed the stairs slowly; turning every so often to find the source of the noise. He got to the top of the stairs and gently leaned against the top rail. He couldn't quite see where the noise was coming from at first, so he pushed off the rail, and walked forward, into the center of the attic. "Hello?" He asked into the still air. "Is someone up here?"
The noise stopped for a moment before starting up again, this time at an increased volume.
"What's going on . . .?" He listened quietly for a moment, and decided that the noise was coming from behind him; in a corner next to the small set of stairs. He turned around, leaning forward slightly to see what was laying in the dark. Kiku took a step forward, trying to examine the pale, pale sheet-like thing he saw.
Arthur shook his head, and held his ears tightly as the Asian let out a blood-curdling scream.
Slowly, Elizabeta entered the house, smiling at Arthur when she saw him. "Hello, Arthur." She smiled at him as she walked over. "I'm the caretaker they assigned to take care of you after Kiku left."
Arthur didn't even acknowledge her existence. Instead, he continued rocking back and forth on his heels.
The Hungarian girl sighed, turning away for a second to set her bag down. "I guess I'll just start working, then." When she turned around, her heart nearly stopped.
Arthur was sitting still now; listless green eyes trained on her, studying every tiny movement. "You . . . You're that kid's replacement . . ."
"Yes, sir." Elizabeta confirmed. "I'm here to take care of you and the house while the police look for your family. My name's Elizabeta- but, please, call me Liz!"
The Brit stared at her silently for a moment more before nodding- almost too vigorously- and turning away again. "Well, good luck. You don't quite strike me as a stupid girl, so maybe you'll work out better than that idiot kid did."
Liz was taken by surprise for a second. "Ex . . . Excuse me?"
"Never mind me, dear." Arthur smiled sadly. "Just start on your work, then you can just sit around with me for the rest of the time.
Liz laughed. "Arthur, you are my work, sweetie." She walked into the center of the living room, picking up the half-full trash bag Kiku had left behind.
About an hour into Elizabeta's work, she found herself upstairs- gingerly cleaning out some unidentified mess in the smaller of the rooms. As she finished, she moved to leave the room, but accidentally stumbled into the door of a small room. She backed up, eyes narrowing at the tape that lined the edges of the door.
Liz squeaked in shock, jumping back and landing on the small bed when the sound of a cat meowing loudly behind the door. "H . . . Hello . . .?" Gently, she picked at a piece of the tape, pulling it off of the door. She peeled off strip after strip until she was able to shove open the sliding door. "Wh-What?"
A small, pale, dark-haired child sat hugging his knees behind the door. He wore no clothing at all, and his hair and skin were soaking wet.
"My God . . . Sweetie, are you okay?" Liz moved to take the child's hand. "Why don't you come downstairs? You ought to be cold up here."
The child shook his head, spattering water across the floor and onto Liz's clothes. "Uh-uh." He stared at the floor.
Elizabeta tilted her head in confusion. " . . . Okay, sweetie. What's your name? Can you tell me?"
The boy looked straight at her; demon-black eyes sending chills down Liz's spine. He opened his mouth, breathing steadily for a moment before letting out a little monotone drawl of a voice; "Toshio . . ."
Liz backed up; suddenly disturbed by the little boy as he smiled at her from his spot in the closet. She was startled when she heard Arthur start speaking to himself softly on the floor below. "What the hell?" She cast one last, long glance at Toshio before running down the stairs, into the living room, and dropping onto the couch next to the sour Brit. "Arthur? Arthur, are you okay? What happened?"
"She-She's here! Here, right now! She's in here with us! She and that little boy, and that damned cat of theirs!" Arthur was yelling, now, standing on his feet unsteadily and scanning his wide eyes around the room. "Please, please, can we just leave? Please! Come on! That woman- she'll kill us all! Me, you, Matt, Al- everyone! We need to leave now!"
"Hold on, Arthur!" Liz commanded in her most stern voice. "You need to sit down and calm down! You're suffering from severe dementia- this is all probably in your head." She guided him gently to sit back down on the couch, smiling and saying soothing, by-the-book phrases as she did so.
Arthur, after a while, began to look calmer, and turned to look at Liz. He froze; his eyes staring straight past her, widening with fear. "N-No . . . I told you . . ."
Confused, Elizabeta turned to look behind her, screaming when she saw a young-looking, pale girl, with long black hair reaching towards the two of them. "Wh-?"
Suddenly, the girl's black hair flew back, as if being picked up by a strong wind, and revealed the bloodshot whites of her eyes. She opened her mouth widely, letting a strange rattling drawl tumble from her throat.
The Hungarian watched in horror as the blood-red irises of the girl's eyes rolled back into place, focusing directly on her.
Here, guys! Part one of two, since I honestly can't sleep after writing this. I'll continue soon. Again, so sorry for not updating earlier. In fact, if it hadn't been for this suggestion, I wouldn't have written anything for probably a lot longer. Thank you all so much for reading! I love you all, and have a great summer to those of you without 'jobs' and 'obligations'!
Otto-Chan, out!