The first couple of chapters will be more detail than anything, hardly any dialogue due to there only being one character. I hope it's not too boring, though I did try to mix it up and use Fiona's original comments in the game and use them for some speech here and there, as well as some thought processes.

Previews for any stories I'm working on can be found on my profile.

I hope you enjoy!

There was a horrible sound, and pain quickly followed after. He was hardly awake seconds ago, and now he was being thrown against the limousine like some sort of rag doll. His head hit something, and he hit it hard. His body flung off to the side, a gasp escaping his lips, the floor was only an inch away from his face-

Italy awoke with a loud scream, eyes wide and full of panic as his chest heaved violently. He was having a panic attack, and it wasn't all that difficult to tell why.

He was currently inside a large black iron cage, completely nude, with only a thin silk blanket covering his frame. The air was cold against his skin, goosebumps littering his entire being along with a bad case of the creeps. He gagged, the air was thick with something foul and rotten, flies swarming... whatever that was upon the wooden table that sat at the center of the butchery-like room. It made his stomach churn, even more so, when he caught sight of the various blood stains that painted the stone floor. That was when he began to hyperventilate.

"W-where am I?" his voice quivered, hands gripping the surprisingly clean silk that covered him, trying to find some form of comfort from the material. His eyes watered, sniffling slightly as sobs began to rise in his throat. Where were his clothes? Who took him to this disgusting place?

The northern nation stared miserably at the front of the cage, a single tear escaping his eyes as it trailed down his flushed cheeks. How was he going to get out? The cage was solid, he felt no need to waste the little energy he had in an attempt to break through, and he wasn't small enough to squeeze through the bars either. Things were looking rather hopeless.

That's when he saw it.

The lock, it was loose around the cage bars, simply hanging there without keeping the massive trap shut. Hope began to ignite within the nation, and so crawling forward, he reached a trembling hand forth and grasped the heavy padlock, tugging it loose and tossing it away. Pushing the door open with a rusty creak, he slowly crept out of the musty cage, wincing slightly from minor back pains before straightening up and observing the room from his full stance. It was still rather frightening and just as disgusting from his prior position, though a glimmer of something sitting on the table caught his interest.

Curiosity getting the better of him, the nation approached the object, nose wrinkling from the close approaximity to the butchered meat about only a foot away. Recognition was quick to hit him, hand shooting out to grasp the metal chained pendant that was polished to a shine.

The Germanic Cross.

A bit of loose fur from the butchered animal dusted over the pendant, but other than that, the necklace was in the same condition that it's owner kept it, even after all the years it has been through.

"This... this is Germany's," he breathed, eyes widening once again and darting around the room in hopes to spot the blond man.

No such sight met him though, only more messily chopped meats that hung from hooks and rotting rats that hadn't been clever enough to escape the traps that were scattered around the dark room. Stairs were located behind the cage he was confined in, and from their direction came a faint light from the dying sun. Clutching the necklace tightly as though it were a lifeline, Italy hesitantly walked towards the light, hoping his friend would be on the outside and in a brighter place than he himself had woken in.

The silk swayed elegantly against his body, sending shivers down his spine from how cold the material was. He took it one step at a time, bare feet echoing slightly in the small confined stone staircase. His heart hammered against his chest, not knowing what lied beyond the dark room that was left behind.

'Anything is better than that room,' he thought to himself, quickening his pace with that thought alone.

The dying sun was just barely visible beyond the massive stone walls, to the right being a large building- a castle of sorts. Dying shrubbery within old clay pots littered the area, weeds growing between the cracked cobblestone pathway that stopped abruptly a mere five feet away from the staircase opening. The path continued on in dirt. To the left of it was an old large tree, and to the right, a large fountain near another staircase that led up to the massive castle.

'Where am I?' he now thought to himself, 'I... was in the limo... with Germany and Romano... and I...' he shook his head, hair and curl swaying slightly at the motion, 'It's no good. Everything seems so fuzzy.'

He was startled out of his thoughts as he proceeded down the path, a black crow suddenly fleeing from it's perch atop a rotting branch that extended over the path.

Italy clutched the sheets and necklace tighter from the fright, willing his legs to climb the next set of staircases quickly and stopping before the fancy door that kept him outside. Using one hand to keep the sheets around him, along with keeping the necklace safe, he grasped the door's handle in hopes it was unlocked. He let out a breath he didn't realize he held, happy to feel the handle give way to his wishes, the door swinging open to reveal the beautiful room from within.

Classy antique white wallpaper decorated the room along with a simple ceiling fan, a few paintings, and a beautifully polished marble floor. The furniture was rather antique looking as well, the wood being dark yet it was kept in perfect condition, the cushions splashed with floral patterns looked as if they were brand new. An old tv, perhaps one of the first to be invented, sat neatly on display in front of the small gathering of sofas at the very entrance, giving the little sitting area a more casual feel. The bedroom, separated by only three stair steps and a classy wooden railway, was just as tasteful yet simple. The queen sized bed looked as though it had been made to impress, it's white sheets fluffed and displayed elegantly. A large wardrobe sat in the corner of the room, and in the opposite corner was a lit fireplace, a grandfather clock standing beside it.

It was all very beautiful, to say the least. Italy couldn't keep his eyes from wandering, be it to the alluring embers of the fireplace, the wonderfully clean condition the full wall window just across the wardrobe was in, or to the impressive large painting of a curious looking elder man that hung between the clock and fireplace. Everything was impressive, and for just that moment, Feliciano's mind was distracted from the horrors he saw just moments prior. Downcast eyes met with marble, frowning once more as he forced himself to return to the task at hand. He needed to find Germany and his brother. Whoever these people were, they must have something to do with his capture. They must know where the other two men were.

Viewing the door that was between the fireplace and the bed, he stood before it in two large strides, hand outstretched as he grabbed the handle firmly.

His body froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on ends at the feeling of another's presence. But he was alone before, wasn't he? Yes, there was no one else within the room.

So how is it that now...?

He turned quickly, facing the direction of the bed to be met with the sight of a woman standing completely still beside it. Italy's face scrunched in confusion, and his heart quickened in pace, if only by a little. Though the pale woman was rather beautiful, hair a strange metallic violet color that curled ever so perfectly at her shoulders, she still gave the Italian a strange vibe.

With stiff and awkwardly slow movements, she gestured towards the bed, her voice coming out particularly monotonous and devoid of any real emotion, "I've gathered some clothes for you."

Veneziano just stared dumbfounded. This woman... she was helping him? Who was she?

With equally slow steps, her heels clicking loudly and echoing off the walls, the eerily beautiful woman made her way over towards the door. The auburn haired man hesitantly sidestepped, brows still scrunched in confusion at the whole thing. Before she could make it to the door, he cleared his throat, voice failing him for a moment.

"W-wait... don't go," he managed to say, catching the attention of the emotionless woman who slowly turned to stare at him with grey eyes, "Excuse me, but where are we?" he asked her, biting his lip a bit from the lack of response. "And how did I get here?"

The woman's eyes trailed over to that of the wall, almost in a trance like state. "Yes, master... We will keep him here for a while. I will make sure he stays comfortable." She made no other reply to the Italian, and infact, it seemed as though she were ignoring him.

Head tilting in confusion, he turned to view the painting the violet haired woman was staring at, the old man painted in professional strokes stared back at him almost tauntingly. Something about the canvas seemed off to him in that moment, giving him an uneasy feeling, almost as if he were being watched.

Then the fatigue hit him, his head spinning and legs giving out from beneath him. He had barely managed to catch himself, collapsing onto his side as his hand shot out to stop his upper body from following suit. Light pants escaped him, eyes blinking rapidly to fight off the urge to just sleep. After a brief moment, he felt himself wake up slightly, inhaling deeply as his mind cleared. He blinked, eyes scanning the room quickly only to find he was alone once again.

How he hated being alone...

'But that woman... She was so beautiful, almost too beautiful. It almost seems unnatural...'

Still, she seemed friendly enough. He wouldn't judge her on her strange behavior. Everyone had their quirks.

With a bit of difficulty, he finally stood and faced the bed, eying the clothes displayed upon the clean sheets. The woman, the maid he now assumed, had said she gathered the clothes for him. Remembering her words during the strange trance like state she was in, he also figured he was welcome within the castle. Even more so, Italy was a guest.

Deciding that he shouldn't roam the castle naked, he made his way over towards the clothes and eyed the fancy material. The outfit was lovely, consisting of an off-white blouse that hugged at the waist, allowing the sleeves to puff out before being hugged back against the wrists by a glossy grey ribbon that weaved in and out of the material and tied into a bow with the cuffs ruffling out a bit at the ends. The lower edges of the blouse was decorated in more lace, faint floral patterns ghosting over the base material. The bottoms were a bit questionable, being made up of deep taupe colored bloomer shorts, an elegant ivory button upon each side, the edges decorated in almost the same elaborate lace pattern to complete the look. It was almost as if they were meant to be worn together.

Socks in that same deep taupe color, accompanied by mid-calf length boots of a slightly lighter shade of brown, sat off to the side of the bed, making the Italian wonder if the shoes would even fit him. He wondered if any of it would fit him, honestly. How could the woman know his size?

Shrugging, he allowed the sheets that covered his frame to fall to the floor, a shiver escaping him as cool air hit his bare skin. Might as well try the clothes on, right? So gently placing the Germanic pendant upon the bed, he began to make work in dressing himself.

And much to his surprise, the clothes fit perfectly, almost as if they were tailored to fit his measurements! Even the boots were a perfect size, though the socks were longer than them, causing them to peak out a good inch or so, though stopped right at his knees. The shorts were... well... short. They were a good two and half (or was that three?) inches above his knees, and it made him feel a bit uncomfortable, especially since the feeling of being watched returned to him tenfold. He just couldn't shake the feeling of eyes glued to his being, and it made him want to hide.

But Italy was alone, only the clock that ticked the time away kept him company, everything else was just dead silent.

He couldn't take it anymore, he had to find out where he was, get some clues, maybe even find Lovino and Ludwig! A smile tugged at his lips at the thought, hands gingerly grasping the necklace and slipping it over his head, the black cross standing out greatly against the white fabric. Yes, that was a wonderfully calming thought.

'You'll be so proud of me, won't you Germany? When you find out I didn't run away scared, you'll be so surprised!'

Giggling at his mental statement, he pushed open the door the maid had gone through, and thus began his investigation.

The hall was connected by a door to the far left and another set of wide stairs that led to a lower level was at his right. Italy groaned, realizing the castle must be full of horrible stairs. He was already exhausted and didn't look forward to climbing anymore of those things. With little thought, he settled for exploring the door instead, sticking his tongue out at the stairs childishly as he opened the door and closed it behind him. He was now in a walkway, the cool breeze of outside ruffling his hair slightly as the sound of moving branches greeted his ears. Other than that...

More silence.

His boots echoed down the long walkway, making him wince at the loud sound. Adjusting his stance, he tredded slightly sideways in a cautious manner, and that seemed to lighten the steps a bit.

Noticing the pillars that adorned the walkway, he admired the growing rose bushes that decorated the entire thing even further. But one looked bare. Curiosity piqued once again, the Italian approached it and examined the display. Being closer, he could now see the dark stains that were smudged down the outter facing of the pillar. It became thicker and deeper in color, and as the newly risen moon's light shined down on it, realization struck him hard.

'I-Is th-that b-blood...? !'

His heart caught in his throat, the sudden discovery causing him to slightly panic. Backing away from the substance coating the pillar, he quickly lunged for the first door directly across from the bloody pillar, but it was locked. A small whimper produced by himself echoed slightly in the empty hallway, the dying sound catching his attention as he stared down the half illuminated area. It was dark, and all the more frightening, feet rooted on the spot for he didn't want to move.

'This place is so scary,' he mentally whined, swallowing hard in an attempt to calm himself, 'But I have to keep moving.'

So with a deep breath, Feliciano forced his legs to move forward while keeping his back pressed against the wall, eyes transfixed on the bloodstained pillar. Glancing to the side, he was approaching the small section of the walkway that was mostly plunged in darkness, but a door stood before it. Reaching for the nob, he prayed it would be unlocked for him to slip into.

And it was, relief sweeping over him as he sighed out with a smile.

Pushing the door open, he entered what seemed to be a small study area. Bookshelves made up the entire left side of the room along with an alcove and desk. Just before him was a podium of sorts, holding papers and the like. Finally, to his right was a corner desk with more books. Papers hung on walls in a messy fashion, so the nation assumed the room must be fairly well used.

Moving to the left, he skimmed through the books that sat atop the desk. They were all in latin, a language long forgotten by his people. He himself was now a little rusty in speaking the dead language, but he hadn't completely forgotten. It was the closest thing, besides the ancient buildings left behind, that reminded him of his grandfather. He would forever know at least the basics of the language.

"But why would these be in Latin?" he spoke aloud to himself, brows furrowing in confusion as he snapped the book shut and set it back down upon the desk.

The drawers of the desk were locked, much to his disappointment, so he moved his curiosity elsewhere, settling on investigating the papers that were pinned against the wall. Upon further investigation, he discovered they surrounded a chalkboard with hurried writing all over it.

"Luminessants," he said slowly, trying the name on his tongue. He had never heard of anything by that name, so he continued to read to himself, "Luminessants are tiny creatures that respond to the etheral energies given off by Azoth. They can be used to track down nearby Azoth. However, several precautions must be taken while handling them..."

The Italian nation paused, head tilting in more confusion from what he had just read. What is 'Azoth'? And what exactly was this 'Luminessants' creature? Shrugging a bit, he resumed reading, hoping the board would have the answer to his questions.

One: When Luminessants come into direct contact with an Azoth infused item or being, they send forth a small charge which shocks the carrier. The higher the concentration of Azoth in said carrier, the greater and more powerful the shock.

Still no information of any immediate help.

Two: Luminessants' lifespan is dramatically decreased whenever they come into direct contact with the open air. This time differs from specimen to specimen, but is never much longer than a few minutes.

And that was all the board had written down, a big disappointment, at least to the northerner.

Huffing, hands on his hips from frustration, he took one more glance around the room before deeming it unimportant. He didn't understand any of what was written on the board, and quite frankly, he didn't care. He wanted answers, not more questions, and so with another huff, he made his way out of the study and back out into the walkway.

Feeling a bit more confident by the distraction, he made his way down the hall, his footsteps echoing once again, but he didn't pay attention to it this time, settling for observing the stone walls and the lone candle lit in the corner of the upcoming corner of the room. The castle structure and design was simply beautiful, almost enough to distract him from the shadow that appeared on the wall opposite at his right.

Almost.

He paused, finding it to be the figure of a rather large person. They were holding something above their head, but he couldn't exactly make it out from his spot behind the wall. Carefully, he chanced a peek around the corner, hand gently placed against the wall as he slowly rounded the corner. Just before he could catch a glimpse of the person, something flew at him, nearly hitting him in the face.

Italy let out a gasp, jerking himself backwards to avoid getting hit, resulting in him falling flat on his bottom. He winced, but remained quiet all the same, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Brown eyes drifted over towards what nearly assaulted him: an old and dirty looking bisque doll, dressed in a navy blue dress and bonnet (Though, Italy assumed it might have been a lighter shade of blue if it weren't for the condition the doll was in).

Heavy feet stomped their way over languidly from the opposite hall, giving the Italian an idea of the size to whom they belonged. His sight shifted hesitantly from the doll, over to the pair of massive feet that now came into view, covered in poorly tailored brown leather shoes. He trailed up the stranger's bulky legs, noting the dark pants with tattered edges that began mid-calf, up to the equally tattered dirty white shirt that came up to the stranger's large elbows. Fair skin with light brown hair cut rather close against his scalp, his posture hunched in an almost stalking manner. But the biggest thing that stood out to the Italian though, were the eyes. Dark brown, large, and watching. The large man had no readable expression, he simply just watched the auburn haired nation as he squirmed slightly on the floor under his gaze.

Those large, semi bulging eyes went over towards the doll that was now in his hand, and back over towards the nation. Back to his doll... and back over to the Italian.

Musty and dirty doll.

Porcelain skinned Feliciano.

Doll.

Feliciano.

He stared at the Italian with a growing smile, one that would rival Russia's in a competition of crazed childishness. The large man simply tossed his doll aside as if it were an old forgotten toy, his smile spreading from ear to ear, turning into a massive grin that revealed missing and rotting teeth.

And those eyes just gleaming in excitement.

A loud grunt escaped the man's chapped lips, groaning incoherent sounds as if he couldn't form a proper sentence. But he did manage to say one thing that made the Italian nation's blood run cold.

"My dolly!"

Gasping in terror, Feliciano picked himself up from the ground, nearly tripping over himself as he did so with haste, and did what he did best: he ran, darting back towards the study. Loud foot steps followed not too far behind, and it made his heart pound all the more harder against his chest. Eyes darted around the room, panting heavily from fear as he tried to find a place to hide.

'Behind the door!'

Making a dive for it, Italy crouched down behind the door where the light just seemed to avoid hitting, the dark shadows providing great cover for him. The sound of grunts and large footsteps came closer, and the man was now within the study, searching for the fleeing nation. The smaller man didn't dare move, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks from how violently he was shaking. The stalker was still looking, still grunting, and- was he sniffing the air?! A satisfied groan escaped the massive man, his hunched figure turning so he was now facing the door, appearing to be leaving now.

That assumption was quickly shot down when the door was suddenly slammed shut, revealing the quivering Italian crouched in the corner. Feli let out a small shriek, darting out from his hiding spot to rush around the center podium of the room, keeping far away as possible from the burly man who just kept smiling as if he were playing a game.

"L-leave me alone!" he screamed, rushing past the man-child quickly and opening the door, dashing out of the study without pause as he sprinted back towards the guest room he had first arrived in.

'Maybe that maid will help me!' he thought hopefully, pushing open the doors that blocked his path without bothering to close them behind him.

Stumbling into his temporary room, he did manage to close that one, taking in deep breaths of air as panic continued to rise in his throat.

"I-I have to get away!" he cried out to himself in fear, eyes wildly darting around the room for some sort of safe haven. "But... where to?" He felt his heart pound particularly hard against his chest at the sight that greeted him.

The bed.

Acting fast, he slid under the bed and pressed himself against the wall, huddling up into himself as he tried to make himself just disappear. Seconds later, the large man came bursting through the door, his heavy grunts greeting the frightened Italian's ears once again. He heard him sniffing the air again as another groan escaped the man, but this one was more disappointed.

"Where is you?" the stalker squeaked, thumping his way down into the sitting area of the room and out the front door, where his steps continued to become fainter and fainter, before dying away altogether.

Italy let out a choking sob once the coast was clear, breaking down in a fit of tears and letting himself express the full terror he felt during the horrifying experience. Shoulders shuddered, entire body trembling as his heart refused to calm. And yet, his body felt as though it could fall into a deep slumber at any time. But no, he wouldn't allow himself to sleep, especially now knowing that monster was lurking about looking for him. No, he had to keep searching, he wanted to keep searching. He wanted to escape.

But most of all...

... he wanted...

"I-I want G-Germany!" his voice cracked in the horrible silence, letting the sobbing nation know that he was truly, and utterly, alone.