Chapter One
"Hey, America." A voice said, cutting through the darkness like a blade. His head hurt, and he could feel himself slipping back into the abyss of sleep when the voice came again. "America! Get up you git!" He blinked, opening his eyes, above him was a stone ceiling, and his body hurt from lying on the cold concrete floor.
"W-What…?" He muttered, sitting up and looking around. He was in a cell, it was dirty and made entirely out of stone, and one wall was made of old iron bars.
"Oh good, you're awake are you?" the voice came again, but its owner was nowhere to be seen.
"England? Where are we?" America called.
"How the bloody hell should I know? I was hoping you were behind this…"
"Where are you?" He asked.
"In the cell next to you, I think France might be here somewhere as well, but I can't be sure." England replied. America looked around, confused. How did we…? He wondered, blinking in surprise as he noticed what looked like a strange spool of thread, but different. It was resting on a spindly stool made of old, half rotting wood. It was the only thing that seemed at all out of place.
"Hey England, do you know what this thing is?" He called, rising to his feet and walking over to it.
"What thing?" England answered, after a pause. America picked it up, walking over to the rusted iron bars of the cell, and for the first time looked around. They were in a circular room, cells lined the walls, and the whole place was lit up by a large fire place in the center of the room, giving it an odd orange glow. America held the cylinder out the bars.
"Over here." He said. He heard England walk over, and a second later his hand reached out, taking the thing from America's hand.
"This is a cylinder for a phonograph you git…" He said slowly. America blinked.
"A…. A what?" He asked.
"It's like… a record player, but not only for music."
"Oh, yeah I knew that. But, are we supposed to play it? Where are we supposed to find one of those in a place like this?" He asked, looking around.
"How should I know?" England snapped. America shrugged to himself, remaining silent.
"There is… one in my cell." A half asleep voice called from the other side of England's cell.
"France? So you are in here. How long have you been listening to us?" England asked, sounding slightly annoyed.
"Not long, but there is a phonograph in my cell here. If you pass me the cylinder I can play it." He said. England hesitated.
"How do I know you really have one frog-face?" He asked.
"I didn't have to tell you that I had one, if you want to hear whatever is on that I suggest you pass it over to me." France said, irritated.
"F-Fine then…" England said hesitantly, holding the cylinder out. France took it from him and there was silence for a moment. Then the sound of a turning handle, and the phonograph spluttered to life.
"Hello there poppets, you won't remember me when you're hearing this, but you can trust that what I have to say is very important. The three of you have been selected as part of…. My game, shall we say? Now don't worry, all will be explained in due time, but please do keep it in mind that time is quite the valuable thing yes? You'll each find one object in your cells that is positively vital for progression, and once this recording is over I've programed the cells to open on their own. You have twenty four hours to make your way out of here, or else let's just say…. A certain friend of yours won't be seeing the daylight again." The recording ended in a flurry of insane laughter.
"England….?" America said slowly, suspicion in his voice.
"What?" England snapped back.
"That voice sounded… familiar, oui?" France said slowly.
"No, it didn't. Now didn't it say the cells would"- He broke off as a loud creaking echoed through the chamber and the three cell doors opened slowly. America ducked out, looking around; a second later he was joined by England and France. "Now, what did that recording say? Something about there being important objects in each of our cells, right?" England said, turning back and looking into the small room.
"There is an oil lamp in mine." France said, ducking back into the cell to take the lamp. England and America returned to their cells as well, searching around the plain rooms.
"Oh! I found this." America said, exiting the room with a small bottle. "What is it?" He asked, France walked over, taking the bottle from his hand and opening it.
"Its oil, it must be for the lamp." He said. Messing with the lamp as England continued to search for something of use in his own cell.
"England? We have to get going, I don't know what's going to happen if we take too long, but we only have twenty four hours to figure out a way out of here." America said. England nodded, turning around with a silver pocket watch in his hand.
"Do you think this is the important object?" He asked. France shrugged and America nodded.
"Yeah sure, now let's get out of here; this place gives me the creeps." England hesitated, and then nodded, looking around.
"There's a door over there." He said, pointing to an old oak door set into one wall. They all glanced at each other before making their way toward it.
"It's locked." England said, tugging at the handle. America pushed him out of the way and tried it himself, before taking a step back and nodding in agreement. France tried it too, and came to the same conclusion.
"Now what?" America asked.
"Find a key?" France suggested.
"Where the hell are we going to find a key?" England snapped, looking around at the empty cells. The three nations spread out, searching around. About ten minutes later they regrouped.
"There's nothing in here." America said slowly. England nodded grudgingly in agreement. America walked over to the door, pounding on it and trying in vain to kick it open. France continued his search and England stood in the middle of the room beside the fireplace, thinking. That voice, whoever it was, wouldn't have told us all that and then locked us in here… it must be in here somewhere. He turned and looked around slowly, thinking over every crack of the room, and where they had yet to check. Blinking as the light from the fire caught his eyes. He crouched down, staring into the fire pit. Smiling slightly to himself as he saw it: a blackened piece of metal lying in the center of the embers. He looked around, trying to figure out a way to get to it.
"Hey guys, I found it." England called. France and America hurried over to him.
"It's in the fire?" France asked, kneeling down. England nodded, pointing to the piece of metal.
"That's it. I'm sure of it." He said.
"Well how do we get it? I could kick the fire out, but the metal must be burning hot." America said.
"Oui, and we don't have time to wait for it to cool off." France said.
"Well there isn't really anything else to do but get it out and see what we can do from there." England said, reaching toward the fire but snatching his hand away from the burning heat.
"Who do you think he's going to hurt?" America asked quietly. England hesitated.
"I…I'm not sure, I don't see who it could be that we'd all care about, maybe he has three people?" He suggested. America nodded, wondering who the strange man thought he cared most about.
"Back up, I'm going to put out the fire." America said, standing up, England and France scurried away as America kicked at the flames, knocking the wood away and scattering the embers. Leaving the key exposed, resting in a pile of sizzling ashes.
"That's got to be hot…" England said, looking at the metal, which was letting off the slightest bit of a red glow.
"Here, watch out." France said, inching closer to the hot ashes, he took off one of his shoes, nudging the key out of the red-hot embers.
"There's something attached to it…" England said, gesturing to a small chain. France nodded, using the shoe to free the key from the soot, dragging a metal container with it.
"What's in it?" America asked, narrowing his eyes eyes in confusion as steam rose from it surface.
"Water… maybe?" England wondered aloud, reaching out and touching it hesitantly. He pulled the top off, careful not to touch the hot metal for too long, and gasped as water spilled from it, turning into steam as it collided with the key, cooling the metal off. "Of course, that should cool off the key at least a little… but I don't understand how that water wasn't boiling… it couldn't have been in the fire for very long…" England said, picking out the case and looking inside it. "hey look at this!" He exclaimed, turning the case and shaking it. A cylinder, not unlike the one America had found in his cell, fell into England's hand. France picked up the key, rising and walking over to the door, closely followed by America and England.
"Be careful; don't drop it under the door or something." America said. France gave him an exasperated look.
"I'm not an idiot America." He said, unlocking the door, with a click. He opened the door hesitantly, England and America leaning to see what was beyond.
"Wow, it's really dark isn't it…" America said, squinting as he tried to see into the long, black hallway. France raised the lantern, turning it on.
"Well, we might as well go…" England said.
"Do you think we should try playing that cylinder first?" America asked, England shook his head.
"No, I'm worried that if I take the other one out the cell door will close again, it could be a trap." He said. America shrugged.
"Let's just get out of here." France said, walking forward nervously, lantern swinging in his hand.