My first one-shot.
This is my ending-thingy to Tragedy of a Superhero: watch?v=NPVTtis2LKg I recommend that you read that first, or this won't make much sense.
Did anyone else think that Tragedy wasn't a true sequel to From the New World With Love? I know that it was supposed to be the sad ending, but beside from the similar themes, they didn't really share the same plotline. I liked Miracle much better, so I incorporated some elements from it.
But all three of them made me cry T-T
…I still snuck in a reference. But an obscure one, hehe. If you can tell me what it is an what it's from… You can have my hand in marriage, because I will LOVE you ^-^
"You either die a hero… or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain" -Harvey Dent
The Final Act of a Tragedy
"I can't hear you." He looked down at his bloody hands. "Why is that?"
"ENGLAND!" America screamed, jumping up franticly. Mid-morning light filtered through the windows and into his face. C-calm down. It was just a nightmare. "What the hell…?" he mumbled. It had been so vivid.
He sat back down on the couch, then started. Where am I? America put a hand on his gun and surveyed the room. Eh? I'm at Britain's? But I remember falling asleep in my own bed… He strained to remember anything after that. It's one of those blackouts again, damn. America felt anxiety claw at his stomach. Bad things always seemed to happen after those memory blanks.
If this is England's house, then where is England? He normally was up by now. America wandered the house, searching for signs of life. When he got to the second floor, he saw that the study door was slightly ajar. He smiled slightly. The idiot must have fallen asleep working again. Well, I'll go and wake him up! It'll give him a nice surprise! He laughed heroically, then froze at the doorway.
The smell… of blood?! It was overpowering, nearly driving him to his knees. W-w-what? Come to think of it, that smell had been lingering in the back of his nostrils since he had woken up.
With growing dread, he pushed the door open. His eyes alighted on the body lying on the ground. Brit… ain? He ran to the corpse. Closer examination confirmed that it was, in fact, his lover. His legs gave out beneath him. I-I must still be having a nightmare. Yeah, that's it. No way this could be real! After all, I wasn't the first time he'd had a nightmare about England dying…
America looked back at the corpse. His position wasn't awkward, so it wasn't a shoot and run this time. His entire body was covered in blood, but there was a gaping wound on his chest. That doesn't look like a gunshot wound. It looked more like some creature had… devoured him or something. America pushed that disturbing thought out of his mind. This is only a nightmare. Any second now, you'll wake up and England will still be alive.
He inched closer to him. If I prove that I'm not afraid, I'll wake up faster. Almost as if on their own, his hand reached down and took Britain's. It was ice cold.
America gasped and jerked back. The realization hit him hard. This isn't a dream! England really is-? NO! I refuse to accept it! He shook the corpse. "Open your eyes, please! Wake up and call me an idiot for overreacting! Come on, I'm begging you!" Britain just hung limply in his arms. "Iggy, don't leave me! I can't live without you!" he sobbed. But his eyes remained permanently closed.
He's dead. This thought caused him to enter a fit of passion and rage. He threw himself over the body, kissing him desperately. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou! Why do you have to die when I love you so much? I wish I could have seen you one last time. I never even got to say goodbye!
Shaking, he pulled himself away. "Who did this? I'll kill them!" he swore. Rage bubbled in his veins. "There won't be a safe place on earth for you."
"Do you honestly want to know?" a mocking voice asked behind him.
America whirled around. His eyes widened upon seeing the figure. "Myself…?"
What appeared to be his ten year old self smiled back at him. "Close. I take many forms. I thought this one would be the most… appropriate… for this occasion."
"Who are you then?" said America, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm usually known as Greed," America started at this. "but I'm probably more familiar to you as The Monster."
"America, you have a monster residing deep inside you. You must never let it take control. If you do, it will destroy everything you care about."
England's words came back to him. T-the Monster? Oh God, no…
"Did you know," said Greed, appearing next to him. "That I've been possessing you since your childhood?"
"What?" cried America, flinching away from it. Were the blackouts caused by this thing?
"You would go on a rampage, destroying everything in sight. There was only one person who could snap you out of it." It saw America glance at the corpse and nodded. "Yes, Britain. He never rejected you, no matter what you did." It shrugged. "Once you woke up, you would have no memory of its occurrence."
Shit shit shit shit. America thought. He began to shake.
"Funny thing is, the more you loved him, the more I hungered for him. You had grown so strong at that point that I could use you to easily overpower him. I think your sub-consciousness realized this. It repressed the love and put hatred in its place. You left, sufficiently protecting him. Over the years, however, you fell in love again. So the hunger began to grow uncontrollably.
"England was happy that his feelings were finally requited. But deep down, he knew you were to end up consuming him" Greed laughed at the expression on his face. "Britain really is too self-sacrificing for his own good. There was only one selfish part to him, though." It smirked. "He refused to kill you. It would have been easy. A few tablets of hyoscine and you would have slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep, from which there would be no awakening. The world would be rid of a monster. But instead, he kept you alive, because of his 'love' Well, that backfired, didn't it?"
America silently glared at it for a few moments. Then he pulled his fist back and punched the creature in the face. It sidestepped the blow, chuckling. "Really, is that the best you can do? Aren't you supposed to be a hero?"
His eyes flashed. "You son of a-!"
Greed made a calming gesture with his hands. "Now, now, I haven't gotten to the best part!" It took a step forward. "Last night. You were upset because he had work to do and couldn't do anything. Don't deny it, you were. You went to sleep. Then I awakened within you for the first time in years. It was time to do what we had longed to do for so long. We put on a pretty good act." A hint of bitterness crept into his voice. "England saw through it quickly, though. He knows you to well.
"Nonetheless, he was unable to resist us. Just once, he struggled, but only very briefly, perhaps at an attempt to return you to his senses. But soon he gave in. He could never deny you anything, even his life. All he did was sigh and say 'I thought you were stronger than this'"
America sat in speechless horror as the Monster leaned down so their eyes were level. "So you unbuttoned his shirt,"
"S-shut up."
"lowered your head to his chest,"
"Shut up!"
It put its mouth next to his ear. "and began to devour him hungrily."
"SHUT UP!" he screamed, trying to punch the thing again. It laughed as his fist passed straight through him.
America began to run blindly. The next thing he knew, he was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. Greed's words echoed in his ears. "Do you honestly want to know?" Yes, I have to know. It has to be wrong, I wouldn't ever allow that to happen- He walked inside and, bracing himself, looked at his reflection.
Blood. Dried blood. It covered his shirt, his hands. So much blood. His eyes found his reflection's face. Oh God. Dried blood crusted his lips and ran down his chin. Like… Like he had actually…! America felt faint. Nonononono! He gripped the edge of the sink. I… ate… Britain… Nausea rolled over him, and he vomited into the sink. Get out of me! L-leave my body, I didn't want this to happen!
Once he had emptied his stomach completely, he sat with his head buried in his knees. I devoured the one I love more than anything. What kind of hero am I? No, I'm no hero. I'm a monster. I can't control it. I'm going to end up destroy everything and everyone!
Wait, there was one more path available to him. The more the thought about it, the better it sounded. There's no other choice. I'm going to do it. Even if there will be no return. America picked himself off the ground and walked back to the room where England lay.
Greed was waiting for him. "Have you finally realized what a despicable creature you are?"
"You're right. I am despicable." America said softly, pulling out his pistol and walking to beside Britain's corpse.
Its eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"
He raised the gun. "I promised I would kill whoever did this."
The Monster laughed. "You haven't figured it out yet? You can't harm me."
"I didn't say that." America said, pressing the barrel against his own temple.
It appeared shocked. "You wouldn't!"
"You wouldn't stop here, would you? You would keep controlling me and consume everyone, whether I loved them or not. Once you had eaten England, I would be an emotional mess and unable to stop you. So I'm going to destroy you before that can happen. When I die, you'll die with me. You won't ever hurt anybody again."
"So this is all because of your desire to be a hero?" Greed snarled.
"Not exactly. I don't have anything to live for anymore, nor would I be able to live with myself. I'd rather roast in hell for the rest of eternity then live a life without him. Plus," He turned his gaze skyward. "I may be reunited with him, if I am deemed worthy." Sighing, he looked down at England. Please forgive me for all that I did to you. I truly do love you with all of my heart.
"I-I won't let you do this!" It ran forward, trying to stop him.
A tear slid down his face. "I'm coming, Iggy."
He pulled the trigger.
END
