"T-Dog: Guess the world changed.
Guillermo: No. It's the same as it ever was: the weak get taken."-The Walking Dead, Episode 4: Vatos
The day was All Hallows Eve, and one hyper, loud country couldn't wait for the night to come. America loved Halloween to death. It gave him an excuse to scare and tease his friends all night long. And for those who lived near him like his brother Canada and close friend Mexico it was the worse holiday EVER. They heard his annoying laughter all WEEK long and always got 'surprises' like fake spiders in their beds, skeletons in their showers, or whatever America thought of in the past year. It was painful but not as bad as England's, who always managed to be on top of America's trick list.
But this year America wanted to spice things up, maybe even scare all the nations at a single time. It would be legen- wait for it because America was chewing on a Twix candy bar-dary! Unfortunately, his house was being renovated; so he bothered Mexico for days to offer her place up. He would have asked Canada, but many-and by that he meant all- always got lost going to his house. They never could find it for some odd reason. But saying it was America's hat wasn't all that helpful either, he admitted. Over time, Mexico finally snapped and just gave up the fight. America shuts up for no one.
America stood in front of Mexico's house right on schedule, holding a large box filled with Halloween decorations. He would have knocked but… that was so not his style so he barged right in like usual.
"MEXICO!" The American shouted, kicking open the door in. "I'm here!" Silence welcomed him in. Nothing stirred in Mexico's house, which was weird because it usually is full of ruckus. The American placed his box of Halloween goodies on the nearest table. America peeked his head in her living room. Nothing. It was lifeless. He thought again on Mexico's whereabouts, and it clicked. "The kitchen," he said as he dashed toward the room opposite of the living room.
There she was, taking a nap on the table with her half eaten breakfast still in front of her. He sat down in the chair facing her and waited for her to wake up. America could wait when he wanted to especially if it meant he would get a good reaction out of someone. So he waited about ten seconds before something else caught his attention. In front of Mexico's head was a plate with a half-eaten pastry of some sort on it. He slid the plate in front of him and grabbed his friend's breakfast. America remembered Mexico had told him the name of the pastry but he forgot it. He knew it made him laugh. That was all he recalled.
Pan something or other; he tried so hard to get the last part. Pan sushi, he recalled with a grin. That was what he called it, which made Mexico red in the face when he first said it.
The American chuckled. Oh he was hilarious sometimes. Pshhh sometimes? He meant ALL THE TIME. Then his typical laugh resonance through the entire house, making Mexico stir from her slumber. The woman lifted her head and put her back against the wooden chair. She hadn't noticed America's presence yet since she rubbed her hands over her face. She opened one of her eyes, realizing there was a chewing noise near her. Mexico jumped back when she saw her neighbor in front of her eating her breakfast.
"Aye dios mios," she mumbled under her breath. Waking up to America in your house unwanted never made anyone's day.
"Howdy sleeping beauty! Have any nice dreams?" America asked with his mouth full of Mexico's pastry. Crumbs fell from his lips to the table top, which made Mexico look at him with utter disgust.
"What the hell are you doing here, America," The Mexican got up from her seat to look in the fridge for more food.
"My awesometastic party is today HELLO!"
"Stop lying. It's not November 2nd," Mexico remarked.
"What are you smoking, Mexico? Everyone knows Halloween is on October 31st. It's a known fact."
"You said it was going to be on Dia de los Muertos, and it's not today."
"Look there's your problem. You probably didn't hear me right due to my awesome. I said it was gonna be on Day of the Dead not Dia Doritos." Mexico tried so hard to keep her fist from punching America right in the face.
"Dia de los Muertos translates into Day of the Dead, moron. And don't tell me you assumed it was the same day as Halloween." Judging from America's lack of eye contact, she was spot on right. Scratch what she thought earlier about punching him in the face. She was going to kick him straight in the Liberty Bells.
"Excuse me, I googled images of your holiday and saw skeletons. So yeah, I assumed it had a Halloween atmosphere to it."
"Dia de los Muertos," she started, "is hardly the same thing. We honor those who have died before us by going to their graves. Some people clean them or just have a good time hanging around-"
"Bleh don't care! It sounds way too boring to be celebrated near me. And honestly who wants to risk running into a ghost or a zombie on Halloween?"
"The odds of anyone meeting those things are as slim asyougrowingabrain," Mexico jumbled the last part of the sentence together, "Well, sorry to break it to you but some of your citizens do celebrate it."
"Yeah, 'cause they all left this dump…" The last part slipped from America's lips. He turned to her and saw the scowl he so rightfully earned. He messed up big time, but Mexico didn't say a word.
"I'm going to be gone most of the night. I'll just make sure my citizens don't mess up your party. Also, I have some things to take care of around my dump of a land." Mexico grabbed her bag and proceeded toward her door.
"Wait I'm sorry! What I said was a real douchey thing to say. You don't have to leave or be by yourself tonight." America tried so hard to amend things on the spot.
"Look this has nothing to do with you," Mexico said as she released her arm from America's strong grasp, "I'm always busy around this time. I still have to celebrate my holiday, my way."
"Okay…" America said a bit defeated. He didn't know what else to say as Mexico gathered her things to leave to do her errands. "Hey," the young man shouted right as Mexico was about to close the door, "Canada should be coming over soon. Also England and France should be stopping by later to help me set things up."
"Alright," Mexico finally showed some happiness through a small smile instead of being irritated by America's comment. "But make sure England and France don't break anything. With those two around my house should be gone within the hour. Honestly, it's just another world war with those two."
"You got it!" And so Mexico closed the door continuing her day, leaving America alone to start setting up his Halloween party.
The clock struck six o'clock. The windows showed nothing but darkness and a few colorful lights in the far distance, which didn't sit well with America. He wasn't a fan of the dark. But knowing Mexico was out there for hours alone made him more anxious. It was a known fact that Mexico was a tough woman (hotheaded would be a more accurate term). She didn't take crap from anybody, especially America, France, and Spain. She could probably beat the crap out of them if she wanted to, but it never came to that. It happened once with France during the Pastry War, but he had it coming.
He knew she was strong without a doubt, but this afternoon she seemed different. She didn't chew off his head or beat him up. But he didn't have much time to think about it, seeing as England and France hadn't stopped arguing since they walked in the door. They were making it all about themselves when it should have been about America and his amazing party, dammit!
"Hey you two, shut up, will ya?" America spoke up enough to make them stop going at each other's throats.
"'onestly, 'ow did a once so adorable child become such a… what would you say… ane? If I took care of 'im, zis problem wouldn't 'ave 'appened."
"Where did I go wrong? I gave you everything, spoiled you rotten, and you repay me with such rudeness in front of this man of all people." England covered his face in shame.
"Oh stop bringing that up. I don't see you two talk about Canada like that."
"An incredible example, America. See 'ow my wonderful former colony grew up? 'e is such a wonderful child and man. TAKE ZAT ENGLAND!"
"SHUT UP." And just like that, they were at it again.
"Can you two please be careful? If you break any of Mexico's things, I'm going to be in major trouble. Like, she will attack me full throttle."
"So zings aren't okay wiz you two yet?" France asked trying to prove his title as the 'Country of Love' was in fact the truth.
"When are they ever civil ever to one another? You two are just as bad as us." England pointed to himself and France.
"True, but zey can 'andle zeir frustrazons in ways we cannot." France gave one of his perverted looks toward America then England.
"What are you getting at?" America asked, not understanding the sexual innuendo. "Come on, what are you saying?"
"Dear Lord, you didn't learn anything as my colony." England didn't mean to sound so irritated but at the moment that was all he felt. "He means hatesex!"
America jumped back at the word. He never thought of such a thing especially involving Mexico. Well he kind of did but that was only because they lived so close together. And France shouting out 'Mexihoe' on 'accident' every now and then might have put thoughts in his head. Other than that, nothing. The American finally noticed the Englishman and Frenchman's shocked faces.
"You mean to tell me that you two have never-"
"Done ze deed?"
"It's not our fault! I never looked at Mexico like that," he lied, "Besides… all we do is fight; even throughout our history, it's just wars and arguing. I guess all those times of you and Spain trying to make us enemies worked out after all, England."
"Don't pin this on me, America. This is all on you," England defended himself.
"You 'ave done it before, non? Maybe anozer country or just a regular citizen? Surely, you haven't waited zis long!" France asked, hoping that his hunch was wrong, but he was right. America just ignored the two and continued to clean up his surrounding, avoiding any eye contact whatsoever. "Oh mon ami…" France hugged the younger nation as if he only had a few days to live. "Don't worry! Big brozer France 'as zis under control! Would you want a fine young woman or man to suit your needs?"
"I'm not gay! I just… I don't have a good reason on the top of my head for this…"
"See if you were my colony in ze first place, none of zis wouldn't 'ave 'appened to you. Girls would be zrowing zemselves at you. But zanks to zis Brit, you're just as bad with woman as 'e is wiz cooking." And the last comment was England's last straw. The Englishman put his hands around France's neck and began to strangle him.
"I would have taken my chances with England anyways. Canada told me his stories from when he was a kid, and I might have come out traumatized as he did."
"See that I won! My scones beat your French cuisine!"
"Zis is no time to bring in our lifelong rivalry! America is in a 'orrible situazion! Zis must be fixed by tonight!"
"How can you think of such an inappropriate thing, you git?"
"I am French."
So after much persuasion by the Frenchman and once Canada came over to house sit for them, the three went out on a (not so life threatening) task as France called it "mission to get America laid"… mission. England only went along to make sure France didn't make a fool of himself in front of Mexico's people. Last thing they needed was another Pastry War where France would most likely cry like a little girl (again).
The Mexican streets were empty. Within the city, it was dark and boring. Not many people were out. Most were either tourists or Mexicans still attending their jobs in shops. France pointed to every other woman on the street. Immediately, America regretted agreeing to let him help his 'situation'. As he tried to ignore his remarks, America noticed a museum open for business. Some teenagers were entering and exiting the building. Obviously, they had nothing better to do than go to a museum.
"Hey, you guys," America turned to England and France, "wanna to check out the museum?"
"Why, so we can learn past events we were involved in?" England looked at America as if he were an idiot, well more than usual.
"No, but earlier today Mexico was acting a bit strange. She wasn't her usual self. Maybe we can figure something out," America replied.
"Strange? 'ow so?"
"Well, for one I accidentally insulted her, and she didn't kill me. And it looked as though her mind was somewhere else. You guys know of anything that happened recently?"
"No but Spain might," England answered. "Despite their past, they managed to stay close." (England shot a why-couldn't-we-be-like-that glance to America, who avoided the look.) "So he might have an idea of what's going on."
"Let me call 'im!" As France dialed the number on his cell phone, America entered the building with England right behind him. The two looked around, gazing at the odd artifacts.
There were various pictures of past wars that America had been a part of. But seeing as they already knew what happened in the more recent history, the American travelled deeper into the building. The farther he went in revealed the earlier part of Mexico's past. There were pictures of temples and the carvings hidden inside their walls. America's excitement rose when he saw murals of bloody fights with men killing one another.
On the other side of the room was England, who was more drawn to the bizarre creatures tied to Mexican people's religion such as a human-eating dog-monkey with a hand attached to its tail named Ahuitzotl. England held in a laugh. How odd were these people for thinking up such a creature? Oh he had to share this with the fairies and unicorns when he returned home.
America took a few steps to mannequins who wore replicated clothing of the Aztec people. On the side of the clothes was a fake headdress with magnificent green colored feathers. They originated from a sacred bird that the Aztec people worshipped greatly. It was worth more than gold at the time.
Then next to the head piece was a medium sized rock that had odd carvings. As America leaned in to get a better look, he noticed that one of the figures carved on the piece of earth looked remotely close to his extraterrestrial comrade Tony. The America whipped his flip phone out and took a picture. He had to send it to Tony. And he did as well as the caption, "hey look bro his guy totes looks like u XD lol!"
Laughter broke America's concentration on the artifacts. It was the teenagers from earlier. Apparently, they had their fun disobeying the rules by entering the restricted area of the museum that was undergoing renovations.
"Hey man, what's down there?" America asked the group of teens not caring which one answered his question.
They all whispered to one another before the word "Americano" came up in their conversation. One of the boys spoke up. He looked like the leader of the pack or he spoke the best English out of the lot. "It's a replication of one of the Aztec temples. Nothing much to look at though. It's still being fixed up."
"So why did you risk getting in trouble if it was boring?" England overheard the reply, not understanding it.
"Rumor is that it was built over a gravesite where the Spanish conquistadors killed many Aztecs. We wanted to see if anything scary happened. But like I said it was just boring." The boy gained England's full attention when the words 'Spanish conquistadors' were said. He heard rumors about Spain's conquests in the New World but never from the man himself. He always changed the subject. Whether that was on purpose or accidental, England never figured it out.
America's excitement went way up. It was clearly over 9000. "LET'SGOENGLAND," he commanded like a mad man as he grabbed the Brit's arm.
England released his arm from America's grip after he was dragged down the hallway. The Englishman rubbed his arm that was turning red as he looked at the jade masks, examining every detail that was crafted into them. It was amazing what people could accomplish without modern day technology. While England finally walked into the grand room, he noticed how messy and disorganized it was. There were wooden boxes filled with ancient items. America opened a folder that contained the description of each artifact in the room.
"Anything interesting?" England looked over America's shoulder as he asked the question.
"Not yet," the American replied, flipping through the pages, "oh wait what's this… 'in the year 1521, the Spanish conquistadors—'"
"Zere you two are! I was looking everywhere for you two!" France interrupted America from reading any further. "I 'ad to ask zose rowdy teenagers for 'elp! And I zink zey were making fun of my accent!"
"Who wouldn't make fun of your accent?" Both England and America shot back.
"'ow rude," France said but brushed it off, being distracted by the room. "What do we 'ave 'ere?"
"Before you rudely interrupted America, he was going to read something about Spain during his conquistador days." France's interest piqued as soon as England mentioned Spain. It was always fun to get some dirt on a close friend or in England's case an arch enemy. "Do go on America."
"Let's see…" America gazed at the words, looking where he left off, "Okay, 'in the year 1521, the Spanish conquistadors who were led by Hernan Cortés defeated the Aztecs after capturing their leader Cuauhtémoc and the capital Tenochtitlan. The Spanish surrounded the isolated capital and launched daily attacks from their ships. The Aztec people's supply of water and food depleted rather quickly, and many died because of it. Smallpox was another factor to the Aztec defenders' downfall. The Spaniards destroyed the city-state and built Mexico City on top of the ruins. Most of the Aztec civilization has been lost to the world ever since.' Well that wasn't remotely depressing."
"Oui."
"Aztec…?" The word baffled England. He heard it many moons ago during the 16th century when Henry VIII was in power but not much afterwards. "Has Mexico ever mentioned anything about this Aztec Empire, America?"
America looked perplexed at England's question. Did she? He had a tendency to zone everyone out when he played videogames like Call of Duty online with Prussia across the world. Good times, he remembered. "No… at least I don't think so."
The three couldn't get the mental image of Spain or his people going to such an extent to rid the world of these native people out of their minds. Sure, a country must endure bloody battles, but this… it just seemed heartless. Spain was just not that kind of guy.
America flipped through the pages in the brown folder once again, gazing at the pictures and captions. One picture caught his eye. It was a carving on a rock wall drawn in the Aztec style. It focused on a candle with a woman appearing from the smoke the flame created along with an odd symbol on it. On a sticky note, it had one handwritten word that was barely legible, "Nahual." The word didn't faze America in the slightest way. It had no meaning to him, but it seemed important to the Aztecs. It must be a god or something, he thought.
If Mexico saw him rummaging through the crate right now, she would most likely kick America's ass on the spot. But she wasn't here so it was all good. He felt a smooth ceramic plate with his fingers and pulled it out, noticing the bottom looked like a puzzle piece before he placed it on the crate to his right.
France and England heard the ruffling noise coming from where America was almost immediately. Noticing the other countries near him, America started handing them the artifacts hidden in the crate. He gave England a large book of some sort. It looked like it had been through hell and back yet it was still intact.
"Is it really necessary to do this?" England asked. "This doesn't sit well with me."
"Oh come on, you stole many zings during your pirate days," France remarked, holding a mirror America gave him a few moment before, "Zis is nozeeng compared to zat."
"You arse…" England said with venom, "Why must you bring that up every time we meet?"
"Just one of ze many perks of our friendship," France answered, pissing England off even more. He looked in the mirror America handed him and realized that everything seemed a bit foggy and a few shades darker than what was really shown. "'ey England, does zis look weird to you?"
The Brit took a few steps toward the Frenchman. It was a tad bit gloomier but nothing out of the ordinary. It must have been due with how old it was. "No, but the Frenchman in the reflection might have something to do with it."
America just blocked the other two out. It was second nature to him after all these years of growing up with them. Their nagging ceased when America found another smaller crate at the bottom of the bigger one. For one reason or another, it felt like whatever was in the box called out to America, saying things like 'open me' in a hushed, slurred tone. So America did what the voice told him to do. He grabbed the box, surprising France and England when the wood hit the floor with a loud, thunderous thud.
America looked like a mad man as he opened the crate with his bare hands. They knew he was strong but this was out of the question.
England couldn't hold in his frustrations any longer. America looked like a jewel thief, robbing a store in the middle of the night. "America, this has gone on long enough. You're not even attempting to help out Mexico by now. You're just rummaging through her people's relics. This isn't going to give you answers."
But England's former colony paid no attention to his words as he lifted a rather large wax candle from the box. America gazed at it in utter awe as he remembered seeing a familiar candle on the papers a few moments before.
"Look," America pointed to the paper. "I wonder if these candles are the same."
"How would you even consider putting these two things together?"
"I don't know… I have this hunch. That's all." America finished his reply to England and looked at the ground. In the center was an elevated area with a deeper carving in the middle of it. The American realized that it was the same form from the ceramic plate he found earlier. So America placed it on top and it clicked instantly. It was a perfect fit. His next step was getting the candle and standing it on top. The last part was lighting the sucker. America pulled out his lighter with the American flag on it.
Right before he opened it, England intervened. "Stop this madness right now, America. You've done enough!"
"What? Do you think I'm going to destroy the world or put anything in danger? We'll be fine as long as you call in your imaginary friends," America teased. France played no part in it. This was an argument between the two and it was best not to get involved.
"If you can't find respect for me, then find some for Mexico and her people. You're playing with something we have no clue about. You don't know what the Aztecs are capable of."
"Aztecs? They've been gone for centuries. Anything they had or thought about is a load of hocus pocus by now."
The flame from America's lighter barely touched the thread when he lit it. Silence came upon them. Then, a sudden boom came from the single flame. After that the ground began to shake, knocking America down to the floor while England and France managed their stance. The shaking stopped as quickly as they had begun, leaving the nations in dismay.
"What the bloody hell just happened," England asked, knowing the answer already.
"A virgin lit zee candle." France pointed to America, who collapsed on the stone floor. "'opefully, zee worst is over with." England nodded his head. Francypants actually said something he agreed with for once.
America just lied on his back, taking in deep breaths to calm himself down. For a moment there, he honest to God thought he triggered horrible events bound to ruin everyone's Halloween and let's not forget to mention Mexico's place. America stared at the lines engraved on the stone ceiling, following them with his eyes. A cool, gentle breeze tickled his cheek. It felt nice, seeing as his face was hot from fear. At that moment, America shot his blue eyes open. He didn't remember a draft before. Plus, they were too deep into the building to be effected by nature.
"Guys," America sat up on the ground, "Did you remember feeling a breeze before I lit the candle?"
England gave a confused look in reply. He wasn't sure why America asked such an odd question at a time like this. France answered with a barely audible 'non' with an uncomfortable stillness replacing the word afterward.
A small howl of the wind became known to them. One by one they turned their heads to the door they entered and where the sound grew louder. A roaring gust of wind almost swept them off their feet. England wrapped his arms around a stone pillar luckily before being knocked down to the floor. France did the same only with a large crate. The wind blew out the lights even the light bulbs, leaving the three in sheer darkness. Only the candle America lit before provided them with a faint glow.
"Guys," America sounded panicky with a cracked voice, "Guys, you okay?"
"I've been better," replied England. "Blimey, was the wind so strong that it destroyed the lights?" From where America was, it sounded as though England gasped. "France, get your bloody hands off me!"
"It's too dark! I'm scared!"
"Don't take it out on me! This is America's doing!"
"I'm sure we'll be fine," America hoped, more like prayed. Once America finished his statement, more candle lights flickered on, giving the countries more light to work with. "See? Things are already lookin' up."
Oh America regretted those words when he noticed an abnormal discovery with the candle. Instead of candle wax, a crimson colored liquid traveled down the white candle onto the floor, filling the cracks with its bright scarlet color. America got up as quickly as he could, avoiding to get it on his body by any means necessary. It stretched to the ends of the floor then up the side of the walls like the blood system in the body. The very thought repulsed England and France. Only France backed into the wall, unintentionally touching the fluid with his hand. It was blood, he confirmed, human blood. France didn't think it through when he wiped the blood on his jacket.
America stood in front of the candle with his lighter still in his hand in shock of what he had done. The crimson fluid was now on the ceiling, never spilling a drop until it reached the spot directly above the candle it originated from. Long drops of blood began to cover the candle without actually extinguishing the still flame. The blood looked as though it was forming something of a body. America finally gained the common sense to follow his friends' suit. He too hid from whatever was happening. The three took a peek from their hiding place.
With every passing second, the bloody form grew and became more of a human figure. The mass of blood looked as though it pulsated with life during its final stages of development. The blood formed into tendons, muscles, and organs right in front of the three, completely revolting them all. Skin then covered the insides except the face; as though it left the most horrific for last. England verified the body belonging to a woman. And from where he hid, he noticed the woman's mouth gaped open, sucking in the air around her. Then when it reached its point, the body collapsed on the floor, causing a booming slam to echo around the room.
The woman or whatever was created landed on her stomach with her face to the floor. Her chest rose and fell when she took in quick wheezes like the air around her had suffocated her. She struggled to get up almost as if she hadn't used her body in a very long time. Her white as snow arms shook as she lifted her upper body up. No one saw her face or at least it as a whole. Her long black hair covered most of it.
The woman seemed curious about her newfound body as well. She looked at her white hands with long finger nails that resembled claws on a cat. She quickly touched her face with her hand while the other ran its fingers through her messy hair. Though America, who glanced from his hiding spot, couldn't get a good picture of the woman's face, he could have sworn to have seen her lips form a wicked grin. Then, the woman let out a horrifying laugh sounding more like a shriek that sent chills down the young countries' backs.
The woman rose to her thin legs standing up hunched over a bit. At that point the others in the room knew it was best to hide themselves from the woman's sight completely. France had a perfect view of both England and France. The Englishman on the other hand only saw France. In order to see America, England had to look in the direction of the dreadful woman. He had to find a way out of this madness.
As England thought of strategies, America was left all alone on the other side of the room with no knowledge of where the woman was. He covered his mouth with his hand, hoping to stop his hard breathing.
France found a place keeping his head hidden when he snuck a peek at the woman. She took a few steps toward England's way. Though France was a good distance away from his childhood rival, he could see England trembling. The long shadow on the floor showed him of what was happening. He heard the thing stumbling, and then it stopped abruptly. England shut his eyes as tight as he could. The tips of hair fell on his arm, causing goose bumps to appear in the area of his arm. He felt her hot breathe on his neck. Her breathing reminding England of hissing a snake does in order to create fear in its next prey.
From across the room hidden by crates, America bottled up the courage to take a look at what he had started. The creature or woman hovered in England's area. America turned his head and saw France who showed nothing else but fear. The American knew he had to save England from whatever this person was. In front of him was the wooden crate he opened. America searched through the hay and found an old ceramic pot. He grabbed its handle and threw it at the ground, shattering it into countless pieces.
The thing stood up, instantly forgetting England's presence. She looked at America with her hair still covering the majority of her white face.
"Hey Samara," America finally spoke up even though his throat was dry, "I'm the hero so I'm the one you really want!"
She tilted her head in response and took a step toward America. His sense of panic kicked in. America walked back into a wall, holding him back from running away from the walking dead. She stood in front of the country, examining his form up and down. Seeing as she was so close, America couldn't help but smell the rotting of flesh that came after death, emitting from her body. This thing wasn't human, he thought.
The woman lifted her hand in a flash. She touched America's cheek with one of her long finger nails. The nail trailed down his face to his neck, and then stopped at his chest. America felt the oxygen in him escape instantly as the woman placed her entire hand over his heart's location. It was as though the air was being sucked out of him like a vacuum found in a regular household.
As soon as her hand lost contact with his chest, America fell to the ground, gasping for air. Without a care in the world, England ran to his former colony's side with France following right behind him. England noticed how America looked as though he had the wind kicked out of him right away.
"What did you do to him?" He screamed at the woman who now backed off from the two. England then realized his mistake. She probably hadn't a clue of what he was saying. He glanced back at America, who now slowly regained his breath.
"Nothing that will harm him in the long run," they all heard a woman speak in a raspy voice. England shot his head toward the only woman in the room. She had a evil smirk on her distorted face.
"You can speak English? But how-"
The woman paid no attention to the Englishman. She examined every small detail of the room she was in. Everything seemed old and run down. Not the way she remembered. The crates in the room also made the place smaller than it truly was. Slowly she realized that this building wasn't her home, her true home. "What have you done to our temple? What have you monsters done to our precious temple?" She began to scream at the countries.
"We 'aven't done anyzeeing wrong!" France was beyond scared shitless at this point. The woman only tilted her head.
"Who are you?" She asked, "Where are you from? Are you more of those Spanish conquistadors who ruined my people's lives?"
"NO! No…! In fact, I've hated the Spanish for quite some time too," England defended himself. Finally, a situation came where it was fine to be an enemy of the Spanish. England thought quick on his feet and leaned in toward America, who recovered completely from the incident beforehand. "And I also raised him to hate the Spanish so we are on your side!"
"Oui! We are all comrades here," France decided to take the easy route on this one. Sure, he was good friends with Spain, but right now it didn't seem like a good idea to acknowledge his presence. The Frenchman tried to persuade the woman more to calm her down and not be so anxious. "We are all friends here! Amigos, non!" He took a shot at Spanish.
But the woman looked at him with so much hate and repulsion. If looks could kill, she would be torturing him for days before she done the deed. "How dare you speak their disgusting language in front of me on this sacred ground!" The demonic woman wrapped one of her hands around France's neck very tightly as he backed into the wall. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now for degrading me as one of those damned Spanish."
England and America scooted away from the frightening scene. This person had so much loathing in her dark eyes. It seemed impossible to think she was alive or once lived on this Earth. England turned toward America's direction. He had grabbed a heavy piece of wood from one of the crates. He put his index finger in front of his mouth, signaling England to keep quiet as well as distract the woman from seeing him. America, who took shelter from the woman's view, had a plan, a gutsy plan, but anything was worth trying at this point.
"Excuse me, Miss," England spoke up with no game plan whatsoever, "Please don't harm that Frenchman. That's my job as a representative of the great British Empire to personally take pride in defeating France."
"France… British…?" She questioned, "I never heard of such countries. Are you lying to me?"
"Of course not! I am a gentleman. I will never do such shameful things. May I ask what you do know about the world?"
"The Spanish came from the vast waters, claiming everything we had as theirs. They destroyed my home. They must suffer as we did!"
Her tone of voice sent chills down England's spine. Never before had he thought it was good to not be Spain. "What is your name, Miss? I am afraid you didn't introduce yourself."
She didn't answer as quickly as she had with the other questions. She looked at England, only looking at his eyes. Something with him didn't sit well with her. She took a few steps closer to him and noticed his green eyes. They heard the woman hiss at the answer. It was as though they brought up some taboo. She invaded England's space, looking at him straight in his eyes. "You are like him… You are like him! Travelers from another world! Murders like the Spanish!" She screamed over and over again, making the countries ears feel like bleeding. She sounded like a banshee in pain about to pounce on her kill.
Then it stopped unexpectedly. England and France opened their eyes to only see America hovering over her with the piece of wood he grabbed earlier. "Run!" He ordered. They had one shot at escaping, and they took it without any second thoughts. They ran as fast as their legs could take them, stumbling into sacred artifacts that had no value to them compared to their endangered lives.
"Señores!" The security noticed the three. The older man spoke English afterwards, "hey, that part of the museum isn't open to the public yet!"
They didn't care. They just ran out the door. Only America had the common courteously to stop at the front desk for a brief moment. "She's alive! Run if you value your life!" The two then heard a wail of pain. The creature had woken up again. "Look, I'm telling you to run now."
The bloodcurdling howl came again, nearing the two lives. America took off, leaving the man to choose his fate. The security guard took out his loaded gun, defending the museum from whatever terror had entered it.
Suddenly, the lights began to dim down slowly as though the energy were being drained from them. Darkness finally engulfed his surroundings. Nothing left but a flashlight to lead him. Every mannequin his light landed on made him jumpy, almost squeezing the trigger. He could have sworn to have heard soft, hushed voices surrounding him, moving all over the place. He then heard little footsteps, tapping on the ground. But nothing scared him more than feeling the hot breath on his shoulder before he collapsed on the floor.
"Funny, I didn't have to touch you," the woman America brought from the grave said. She looked at all the relics on display. She could have sworn to been there the day some of these pottery pieces were made. To her left was a sad attempt at replicated clothing from her time frame. She took a mental note just in case a situation came where they would be needed.
The woman walked to the counter near the entrance. She grabbed the yearly calendar and noticed the date 2011. She didn't understand. How long have the Spanish forces raided her precious land? How many years have they destroyed lives and families when she was asleep? Too many, she thought.
"Don't worry, my brother and fellow Mexicas. I will make everything better. I will make the Spanish suffer for what they did to us. Justice will be served." A smell of iron became apparent to the wicked woman. The rustic smell overcame her until she decided to follow it. Desire pushed her to find it as though the pleasing aroma literally pulled her to it. But she put the pieces together. The smell drew her body closer because it was reacting like a tracking device, showing her the way to her destination, her prey.
If anyone has seen the movies The Uninvited or The Ring, that's what the woman is based off of. Kinda. At least the appearance is.
Also, I'm not a yaoi person so don't expect anything like that. However, I love me some bromances. I will have that. Close enough? XD