I own neither And Then There Were None nor Hetalia.
Thank you to The Almighty Pyro for reviewing! :)
The sun, high overhead, stabbed Basch's eyes with its rays. He squinted in the relentless onslaught of late afternoon sunlight. He was standing by the beach, gazing out at the horizon. Soldier Island stood out against the gold-hued sky; a splotch of angular lines amidst the vast sky.
Basch turned away. The bangs falling short just above his eyes provided some shade, but not much. He grumbled inwardly about how costly sunglasses were and cast a longing glance at the extra pair of sunglasses hanging from another man's shirt.
The man had shoulder-length blonde hair, lightly tanned skin and a very slim build. His eyes were shrouded behind fancy sunglasses adorned with pink stick-on plastic gems. Basch was certain he would be really handsome... If not for the fact that he was wearing a plaid skirt.
He pulled his sunglasses down so they were hovering just above the tip of his lightly freckled nose, then his piercing green eyes were on Basch.
"Like, is there a problem?" the blonde man huffed.
The man next to him quickly grabbed his hands and murmured something. The blonde began to whine.
Basch decided he didn't like the blonde. Then again, Basch didn't like most people.
"H-Hi..."
The blonde's companion had spoken, his jade eyes on Basch. His chestnut hair was tied in a low ponytail, but a few strands in the front had come loose, framing his face. Basch gave him a disinterested stare – which wasn't really successful, considering the sunlight was still forcing his eyes into little slits. "Hello."
"A-Are you... Here f-for the party?"
Basch had no idea why the man stammered so much. "No, I merely enjoy standing here to sizzle in the sun," Basch snarled, then felt a twinge of guilt. It had been an innocent question which definitely did not call for such a snarky reply.
The pair had fallen silent.
Then the blonde proclaimed, "I totally don't like him."
"The feeling is mutual," Basch replied, frowning at the blonde.
"A-Ah! Please excuse Feliks..." His partner smiled uncertainly. "We're here for the party too. What's your name?"
"Basch." Basch decided he could put up with the brunette.
"It's nice to meet you, Basch. My name is Tolys." Tolys extended his hand.
Basch shook his hand reluctantly. "You have unusual names. You're not from around here, I presume."
"Ah... Yeah. Feliks and I come from Poland and Lithuania respectively," Tolys answered. "You don't sound local yourself."
"I'm from Switzerland," Basch responded, then chaotic yelling from the other end of the beach caught their attention.
"Get away from us, you creep!"
"Kesesese! Fancy meeting you and Specs here!"
"Brother, don't embarrass me."
"I wish to change my mind about attending this party now."
Their voices grew louder, and soon they were visible past the glare of the sun. There were three men and one woman. One of the men walked smartly, with his back straight and his broad shoulders thrown back. His neatly slicked-back gold hair gleamed in the light.
The man next to him was possibly an albino. He was wearing long pants, a hoodie with the hood thrown up over his head, and sunglasses. Not much could be seen of the man other than his huge grin and a little of his bleached hair. His arm was slung across another man slightly shorter than him.
The third man wore the most irritated expression and the fanciest clothes; a double-breasted jacket with a cravat tucked into the front. His highly polished buttons reflected the glaring sunlight. On his feet was a shiny pair of shoes, now soiled by the sand.
Linking arms with him was the female. Her long tawny hair cascaded beautifully down her back and some strands went over her shoulders, and she had a flower in her hair. Her sundress was simple but classy.
"Aren't they, like, sweltering in those clothes?" Feliks muttered.
"Hey!" the woman called, waving her arm. "Are you here for the party?"
"Yes," Basch called back.
"Awesome!" the pale-haired man bounded over. "Hey, nice to meet you, even though I'm not sure if you'll be nice. My name's Gilbert."
"Hi, Gilbert," Tolys said. Feliks had frozen next to Tolys, and though his eyes couldn't be seen, Basch could tell his eyes were wide in fear.
"What's wrong with him?" Basch asked.
Tolys' emerald eyes met Basch's. "Feliks gets awfully shy around strangers," Tolys explained.
The woman flounced over excitedly. "Hello there! What's your name? My name is Elizaveta."
"F-F-Fe...l-liks..." Feliks stammered, digging his nails into Tolys' arm.
"I-I'm Tolys. It's a pleasure to meet you," Tolys replied, attempting to unhook Feliks' fingers.
"Aww, you're so cute!" Elizaveta pinched Feliks' cheeks, igniting a indignant splutter from him. "This is my husband, Roderich," she continued, yanking on the arm of the well-dressed man.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Roderich stated stiffly, extracting his arm from Elizaveta's grasp.
"Everyone here is gathered for the party?" the large blonde man with the hard azure eyes questioned.
"Yes." Basch felt tired of repeating himself.
"I see. I'm Ludwig," he introduced in a deep baritone voice.
"I'm Basch," Basch replied. He picked up on the newcomers' German-sounding accents.
"You kids here for the party?" someone drawled. Everyone whipped around, startled.
There was a lone man sitting on a rickety boat, his calloused leg propped up on the benches that ran along the length of the boat. His jaw moved constantly as if he was chewing.
"Yes, how did you know?" Ludwig queried.
"I'm the one who's supposed to row you over to Soldier Island. Some guy called me over here to fetch his guests over," the boatsman responded.
"Ah, that must be our host," Roderich piped up, plodding towards the boat. He jerked a thumb in the direction of Soldier Island. "Do you know who the man who called for you?"
"Nah, but that fellow's got to be bloody rich."
"Yeah..." Basch mumbled wistfully.
Everyone else marvelled at the outline of the grand mansion atop the island. Certainly, the man must be loaded. This only made them all the more curious to know who he was.
The boatsman broke the awe-filled hypnosis. "So, do you want to go over now?"
Roderich shook himself out of his stupefaction. He couldn't deny that he was indeed envious. "Yes, I would. Come along, Elizaveta," Roderich instructed.
Elizaveta strolled to his side. "The boat's small," she observed.
"It'll only fit five people at a time, excluding me," the boatsman replied. "So you'll have to decide among yourselves who goes first."
Looks were exchanged.
"We'd like to go first," Roderich finally declared. "Elizaveta and I."
"Then I'll come along!" Gilbert exclaimed, a large grin on his face.
The boatsman helped each of them into the boat, even as Elizaveta muttered angrily under her breath.
Ludwig appraised Basch, Feliks and Tolys. "Do you want to go first?"
Tolys and Feliks turned to each other, then Tolys spoke, "I-If you don't mind..."
"It's no problem," Ludwig answered automatically. Basch nodded his assent.
"T-Thank you very much!" Tolys said, gathering his luggage. Feliks hung onto his arm. He stepped into the boat, Feliks crying out in terror as the boat swayed. Then Tolys stumbled towards the bench, Feliks getting dragged along, and all of them managed to settle down comfortably.
Basch glanced at the man who now stood beside him. His large form shielded a lot of the sunlight from him, for which he was thankful for.
"It's weird, isn't it?" Ludwig voiced after a long period of silence. The pair had been staring out into the sea. The sunlight threw dappled rays across its surface, so each wave had a silver hood. The waves swished lightly as they broke onto the beach, and the water was so clear, every grain of sand beneath the shallow water could be seen.
Basch's head whipped around when Ludwig spoke suddenly.
Ludwig went on, "I can't believe I actually accepted such a suspicious invitation."
"Yeah... Me neither. I'm only coming for the free things," Basch admitted guiltily.
And I came because of Gilbert, Ludwig thought.
Every detail of it was engraved into Ludwig's mind. Gilbert came home one day badly injured; a blackened eye, a split lip, bruises all over his body and a limp. Ludwig had grilled Gilbert for details, but Gilbert kept absolutely mum. That was when Ludwig took matters into his own hands and did a little... Well, stalking.
He crept out of the house after Gilbert, then followed him down the street. It might've been his imagination, but Gilbert seemed... Scared. Fear was unusual for his overconfident older brother.
Gilbert pulled a phone out and fiddled with it, placing it to his ear and chewing his bottom lip. Ludwig had sneaked into one of the nearby bushes to avoid detection. Gilbert scanned the area every so often, still making those erratic, restless actions, like compulsively checking his phone.
That was when there was a yell.
Gilbert took off like the wind, about half a dozen black-clad men pouring out of the alley after him. Ludwig burst out of his hiding spot and followed them.
The men had caught up to Gilbert and pinned him down onto the floor. The man straddling Gilbert raised his fist. It collided with Gilbert's cheek with a dull thump. Gilbert stared back defiantly, earning him another punch.
Ludwig had seen enough. These bastards were pummelling his brother! Ludwig pulled out the gun tucked into his holster – just an ordinary policeman's standard order – and fired six rounds straight into the backs of the unsuspecting men. The men dropped like rocks. Ludwig yanked his brother up and both of them fled the scene.
"I came because of my brother. He'd most likely get himself killed if he came by himself," Ludwig finally revealed. Basch would never know how true those words were.
The wind blew then, bringing along the scent of sea salt with it. Basch shivered, unsure of whether it was from the chill of the wind, or Ludwig's foreboding words.
-o-
Feliks clutched the seat, panic – and something else – rising in his throat. He felt like he needed to hurl. Only Tolys' hand against his skin reassured him.
"So, are you gay?" Gilbert inquired the moment the boat set sail.
"Gilbert!" Roderich and Elizaveta chided simultaneously, though both of them were rather curious as well.
Gilbert shrugged. "They look gay. Especially that one." He pointed to Feliks.
Tolys had gone white, while Feliks was green.
"You scared the poor boys!" Elizaveta shouted, then turned to Feliks. "Hey, I'm sorry, Gilbert here is an insensitive jerk. You don't have to answer that question."
"I-It's okay," Tolys choked out. "I... Um, y-yes..."
"Hey! He admitted it!" Gilbert crowed.
Roderich rolled his large violet eyes. "So what if they are homosexual, Gilbert?"
Feliks decided it was the perfect time to chuck all over Gilbert.
"HEY!" Gilbert yelled, flinching away from the projectile vomit.
Tolys reacted immediately. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" He wrapped an arm around the heaving boy's back, murmuring consoling words to him.
Gilbert seethed. "These are my awesome clothes!"
Roderich couldn't help the smile creeping onto his face. "You'd probably end up looking and smelling like this by the end of today, anyway."
"You kids are going to have to clean up this revolting mess!" the boatsman hollered.
"Certainly!" Elizaveta assured him, stroking Feliks' back in downward motions. Feliks twisted about so now he was facing the sea, then continued to retch.
"I'm most curious to know who the host of this party is," Roderich remarked.
"Kesesese! I bet he likes me most!" Gilbert bragged, the mess on his clothes forgotten for now.
Elizaveta muttered, "No one has such bad judgement."
"What was that, Lizzie?" Gilbert asked tauntingly.
She flashed him a saccharine smile. "Nothing, asshole."
A tense silence settled over them, broken only by the swishing of oars across the water and the cawing of birds as they flew over them. Feliks had regained some colour in his cheeks, and Tolys was busy mopping the floor of the boat with his limitless supply of tissue.
Roderich eyed Feliks. That boy was rather strange, and he didn't speak much. Roderich had caught a glimpse of Feliks' eyes when his garish sunglasses had slipped down his face. He thought Feliks looked like a stereotypical undercover agent – well, if he ditched the girly clothes.
The truth was, Feliks resembled one of Roderich's students, one whom he did not want to be reminded of. That particular student had been far too intelligent for her own good, and Roderich had secretly felt like he was getting usurped by the six-year old with the green gemstone eyes and knowing smile.
Roderich couldn't tolerate this. He set out to crush her, to eliminate any possible challenge to his title as a musical prodigy.
She had been destroyed. Like Roderich said, she was way beyond her years. She even knew methods of suicide.
The imposing structure of the mansion on Soldier Island was coming nearer. Its face was shrouded in shadow as the sun was behind it.
The boat drifted onto the sandy shores of Soldier Island. It rocked with each wave that crashed into it. Tolys stood up, soggy wads of tissue cradled in his arms. He looked rather sick himself now.
"Come, Feliks, Tolys," Elizaveta cooed, stepping off the boat gracefully. Her feet sank into the damp sand, but the sand was soon washed away by a wave that swept over her feet. She reached out to help the both of them get off the boat.
Gilbert stepped forward. Elizaveta narrowed her eyes. "You can come down by yourself," she snapped, grasping Roderich's outstretched hand and steadying him as he stepped off.
"Keh! You're so biased," Gilbert whinged, jumping off the boat easily.
"I'll go back to ferry your other friends over," the boatsman informed them, already back-pedalling away from the island.
Gilbert gazed at the grand mansion looming above him. "Since we're here, why don't we go in first?"
"Y-Yeah, I need a dustbin," Tolys agreed with a faint smile.
Roderich took the lead, moving towards a large staircase. The other four followed him. Roderich was out of breath by the time they had reached the top of the stairs. Those were probably the longest stairs he had ever climbed in his life. He reprimanded himself inwardly for never getting any exercise.
Now that they were on the same level as the mansion, they realised it wasn't as large as it had appeared. Most of its height was made up of the hill. The mansion was wide, but only two stories high, tops.
Roderich moved towards the door and rapped on it twice.
There was no reply.
Roderich rapped again.
"Maybe they can't hear you over the sounds of their preparations," Elizaveta suggested. "Why don't we try going in?"
"That seems rather improper..." Roderich pointed out reluctantly.
"Aw, come on! They're expecting us anyway!" Elizaveta pushed Roderich aside lightly and tugged on the door handle.
The door opened to an ornately decorated main hall. Streamers and banners hung from the ceiling, and letters spelling out the word "Welcome" were stuck on the wall.
"Awesome!" Gilbert enthused, lifting his foot to step inside.
Elizaveta held him back with one hand. "Wait. The place looks empty."
"If it's a surprise, it totally failed," Feliks mumbled.
"Should we go in, then?" Tolys questioned, looking around at the nervous faces around him.
"I... Think we best wait for the others," Roderich conceded.
"Hah! Is sissy-boy scared?" Gilbert mocked.
"It's always better to be safe than sorry," Roderich said defensively. Elizaveta nodded, slipping her hand under Roderich's arm.
"Could I go in to dispose of these first?" Tolys requested timidly, twitching his hand a little to gesture at the pile of used tissue in his arms.
"Sure. We'll be right here!" Elizaveta said, holding open the door.
"Thank you!" Tolys stepped in and scanned the room, then headed towards the dustbin placed in a corner.
Gilbert poked his head through the door to take in the surroundings. "I wonder who this rich-arse is."
-o-
Two more people had joined them. Their nationality was too painfully obvious by their mannerisms. There was an American who constantly poked fun at the Briton, and the Briton would fling British insults at the American.
Such friendship.
It reminded him of the time he had been out with his best friend. They had gone a little overboard with the wine, and both of them were absolutely wasted by the time they stumbled to their car. Their decision to drive was foolhardy, but they had no other choice. They didn't want to spend their nights slumped over in the streets.
Basch could barely get the key into the ignition, but he managed it eventually after a lot of jeers from his friend. He wrapped his clammy palm around the gear and thrust it to the driving position, stomped on the accelerator and gripped the steering wheel.
Spots danced before Basch's eyes. Every car that passed them had blazing headlights that burst like a fireworks display at the back of Basch's mind. He couldn't see the streets before him well, but the most he could try to do was avoid slamming into any of the colourful beams of red and white lights.
They left the city area. It had been terribly noisy. Everywhere they went, horns blared ceaselessly. Basch was relieved to find himself on a rural path where the traffic was less heavy and the choir of crickets were his companions.
"Your driving sucks! Even my grandma could drive faster than you!" his friend complained, leaning over to wrestle the steering wheel away from Basch's grip.
"Hey, don't do that," Basch slurred, batting his hands away feebly. His friend, though, seized control of the wheel and got it to turn in his favour.
Which meant the car went spiralling towards the left, crashing right into a tree.
The impact rocked the both of them. Their heads smacked the dashboard violently. At least for Basch, the airbag decided to expand at that exact moment, cushioning him from the worst of the concussions.
His friend, though, wasn't as lucky.
The bitter memories opened up a fresh wound within Basch, and his hand flew up to his shoulder to touch the scar there unwittingly. He needed something to distract him from the pain. He turned his attention towards the newcomers.
"So... Are you two friends?" Basch inquired, then he wanted to kick himself. Of course not, because it's completely normal for two strangers to tease each other like that.
"Friends? Nah, Artie's more like a grandfather. He's even got the nagging thing down for him," the more boisterous one quipped.
"Don't call me 'Artie', you git," 'Artie' growled.
"What are your names? My name is Ludwig. Nice to meet you," Ludwig drawled. His voice was more controlled than Basch's could ever hope to be.
"I'm Alfred! I'm the hero! And the tea-guzzling prick with the thick eyebrows is Artie." Alfred's aqua eyes sparked with good humour.
"Arthur," 'Artie' corrected, his green eyes flashing angrily.
"Um... Hi. I'm Basch," Basch said. He didn't like these people as well.
"So... What are we waiting for now?" Alfred asked obliviously, panning the area.
"We're waiting for the boat to come back and fetch us there," Arthur told his friend with suppressed irritation.
Alfred's eyes lit up. "I hope they serve hamburgers at the party."
"This party is going to be a headache," Ludwig muttered, soft enough for only Basch to hear.
Basch replied, "We're surrounded by idiots."
"Indeed," the German agreed with a sigh. Basch decided he could deal with Ludwig.
The faint slosh of water brought their attention back to the sea. The boat was returning. It was already quite late; the sun was a glowing orb behind the boat, dipping into the horizon. The sight of the boat, with orange shadows cast across it, and the rippling reflections on the water made the entire scene so surreal.
"So, it's just the lot of you left?" the boatsman queried. "Hm... But the man told me there'd be ten people."
"There's only four of us here now, unless you see someone else." Basch lifted a blonde eyebrow.
Alfred squeaked, "A-A g-ghost?"
"There are no ghosts, idiot!" Arthur scowled.
"Ve!"
"Did you hear that?!" Alfred exclaimed, squeezing Arthur's arm in fear.
"I heard nothing," Arthur alleged, turning up his nose at Alfred.
"Ve!"
"I s-swear i-it's r-real!" Alfred squealed, ducking behind Arthur.
"Oh, for Pete's sake," Arthur shouted, dislodging Alfred's hand and storming towards the boat, "Let's just get into the boat and go."
Arthur and Alfred got into the boat, Alfred's eyes squeezed shut and his hands clamped over his ears. Ludwig went next. The boat shook when he entered. Basch stepped in last, turning his head in the direction of the strange noises.
Then he saw it.
A human barrelling right towards them.
"Wait for me!" the auburn-haired male cried, pushing himself to go faster, but his feet got caught behind a rock and he went sprawling. He climbed up instantly and continued racing towards the boat.
"Are you here for the party?" the boatsman yelled.
"Yes!" the newcomer panted, reaching the boat and clutching the edges to hold himself up. He took gulping breaths before speaking again. "Hi! My name is Feliciano. I like pasta and pizza, and I hope we can be friends!"
"Hi! I like those foods too!" Alfred called back.
Feliciano's hazel gaze fixated on Alfred. "Really? I have some pasta here, we could share..."
Ludwig cleared his throat. "The sun is setting. We need to get a move on."
"Oh, yes!" Feliciano clambered clumsily into the boat, then ferreted about in his bag for his lunchbox.
The boatsman thrust the oars against the water, kick-starting the boat's movement.
"I don't know all your names yet. Who are you?" Feliciano questioned, digging his fork into the pasta.
"Alfred." Alfred gestured to himself first, then his finger travelled to Arthur. "Artie."
"You hopeless wanker," Arthur groaned. "My name is Arthur."
"Ludwig," Ludwig stated brusquely.
"Basch," Basch said.
Feliciano beamed. "Ah, so many people! Hello, hello!"
"Hi," they mumbled back with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Alfred, of course, cinched the first place.
"This is some fine pasta!" Alfred proclaimed.
"Swallow your food before speaking!" Arthur scolded.
"Sure, gramps!" Alfred exulted through bits of pasta.
Arthur buried his head in his hands. "Where did I go wrong raising this child?" he moaned.
"You're his father?" Basch asked out of curiosity. Arthur didn't look much older than Alfred.
"No, I'm just someone who has to put up with this git, but you know, he's so immature, I find myself filling in as a parent," Arthur divulged.
Alfred set his fork down. "Hahaha! I don't need your care!"
Something passed through Arthur's eyes then, something akin to sadness and anger. "Fine, deal with your own problems from now on!" Arthur snapped.
Feliciano nudged Arthur, then thrust a box of pasta under his nose. "Pasta," Feliciano murmured sweetly.
Arthur accepted the box with mumbled thanks.
"Could I have some of that pasta too?" the boatsman piped up.
Feliciano sprang up. "Of course!" He dropped a box into the boatsman's lap eagerly.
"Thanks, kid." The boatsman gave him a crooked smile.
"You're welcome!" Feliciano's gaze swept over the two other occupants on the boat. "Do you want some pasta?"
"No, thank you," Basch refused politely. He was saving his stomach for the feast later.
Ludwig turned down Feliciano's offer as well. Feliciano seemed a little disappointed, but he sat down opposite them to consume his pasta wordlessly.
The lively brunette looked up from his pasta after a while. "Oh! The island!"
Everyone turned to look. Only a semicircle of sun was visible now, and it dyed the entire island in warm vermillion hues.
"It's almost five," Ludwig announced. "We're just on time."
The silhouettes of the others who had arrived on the island earlier stuck out like sore thumbs.
"More guests!" Feliciano cheered.
The boat washed onto the shore, and the others stepped forward to help them out of the boat.
"New faces!" Elizaveta chirped. A round of introductions was exchanged, with Roderich growing more displeased and Feliks getting more nervous. Then the group of ten approached the mansion.
"It's oddly quiet for a party," Arthur noted.
"Yeah, where's the booming music?" Alfred chimed in. For once, Arthur did not disagree with Alfred.
"I-It was like that w-when we first came here," Tolys explained with a wary smile.
"Huh. This could be the kind of party I'd like," Basch said, walking up the stairs.
"We should all go in together," Roderich declared.
They trooped up the stairs and gathered around the door. Their eyes were wide in anticipation – no, fear.
Basch rolled his eyes. "It's just a house!"
"B-But it's c-creepy," Alfred whimpered.
"We're all together, okay? If you're scared you can ask someone to accompany you to wherever you want to go." Ludwig had to refrain from palming his face.
"You wimp," Arthur scoffed.
Feliks held onto Tolys' arm tightly. "You won't, like, abandon me, right?"
Tolys ruffled Feliks' matted hair. "Never."
His words seemed to calm Feliks down, and the both of them trailed after the group. Feliks removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt, bringing the total count of sunglasses hanging on his shirt to two. His shirt sagged with the added weight, and the fact that it was a V-neck shirt didn't help matters.
Basch went in first, followed by Ludwig, then the married couple and Gilbert. Feliciano was skipping near Feliks and Tolys, and Alfred and Arthur brought up the rear.
The room was still as when the first group had last seen it. The lights were on, the table set with pastries wrapped in cling-wrap, and small fires burned gaily below the buffet display.
"Food!" Alfred exclaimed, running forward. "So much food!"
"Fat arse," Arthur muttered under his breath, but his breath hitched when he caught sight of the sachets of Earl Grey tea.
"Where's the host?" Gilbert cried.
"Is a surprise awaiting us?" Elizaveta added, her dainty hands balling up in excitement.
The light flickered twice then went out entirely. Gasps sounded from various corners of the room, and distinct wails from Feliciano and Alfred and Feliks could be heard.
Then the lights snapped back on. Everyone blinked at each other in confusion. No one had moved from their original spot except Feliciano, who had begun to run about in his panic. Now he was hugging a disgruntled Gilbert.
"Look!" Tolys pointed to a piece of paper fluttering towards the ground. His eyes traced a path towards the ceiling. "Where did this come from?"
"What does it say?" Ludwig prodded.
Roderich was the closest to the note, so he picked it up and examined its contents.
His mauve eyes bulged and his sylphlike fingers tightened around the paper, causing the edges to crinkle.
"What is it?" Elizaveta hurried to her husband's side worriedly, scanning the note, then her hand flew to her lips as she inhaled sharply.
"Read it out loud!" Alfred prompted.
"N-No..." Roderich fumbled his way to a plush seat and sank down heavily onto it.
Elizaveta grasped the note, crumpling it in her fist. "This is utter nonsense!"
"What does it say?" Gilbert pressed.
"Read it if you want to know so badly," Elizaveta gritted, tossing the crumpled ball of paper to Gilbert.
Gilbert caught it expertly and smoothened out the note. Everyone else crowded around him. They began to read.
Ten little soldier boys out on a day so fine
One took a sip of wine and then there were nine
Nine little soldier boys clueless about their fate
One went out on a date and then there were eight
Eight little soldier boys with innocence unproven
One went to heaven and then there were seven
Seven little soldier boys in quite a fix
One tried to pull his tricks and then there were six
Six little soldier boys determined to survive
One messed with the wrong hive and then there were five
Five little soldier boys frightened to the core
One pushed open a door and then there were four
Four little soldier boys made a decree
One got overwhelmed with glee and then there were three
Three little soldier boys feeling very blue
One discovered a clue and then there were two
Two little soldier boys on the run
One pulled out a gun and there there was one
One little soldier boy stood in the sun
He couldn't stand being alone and then there were none
This is not the original poem in the actual book.
Is the murderer obvious? I have no idea. It seems obvious to me because I'm writing the story and I already know how it'll end, but I would love to hear your views! :)