Sweet Lies chapter 2
The building that he'd been sent to was as good as deserted. The place was derelict and falling apart, the paint peeling and the walls covered in Poison Ivy. The lights were flickering on and off, the lights a sickly yellow colour. The walls were half rotten and falling to bits, covered with mould and a deep maroon blood-like substance. Who knows, it could be blood. The floor was cracked and torn, the carpet that used to be white or maybe cream was ruined with a multitude of stains, both made by coffee and blood, both in copious amounts.
The place was a maze of intersecting hallways, some lit and others flushed with darkness, maniacal creepy laughter reverberating through the halls. The very shadows themselves seemed to shudder and shiver in fear at the sheer evilness in the insane laughter. The shadows seemed to move, arching away from the dark hallways towards the light in the hope of being saved from the approaching insanity.
He calmed his breathing, slowed his heart rate.
Thum-dum.
Thum-dum.
Thum-dum.
Slowly, he raised the gun. He took aim and as the ghastly figure stepped out into the light, he pulled the trigger to the sudden and deafening cruel laughter of the shadows as the figures visage warped and changed into a face that he knew oh-so-well.
A face that he hadn't seen in over a century. A face that had such a haunting beauty that he scarcely dared to look at. The face of his beloved, his amore.
A face that had been dead and buried ninety five years ago.
The shadows screamed and shouted at him, jeering at him. Laughed at him as he screamed in horror and dismay, completely devastated. And he let them, because he knew, he knew that it was all his fault that she was dead. All his fault.
Yes, it's all your fault and nothing you ever do with remove the stain she left on your heartbroken little pathetic soul.
Even the shadows knew how pathetic he was.
Then, the screaming began. Just as it always had. But instead this time...
This time, they were coming. Coming for him.
Arthur woke with a start, face covered in sweat and tears and he tensed, not knowing what had woken him. Usually, those dreams would go on for hours more, but he had been woken be something.
What that something was, on the other hand, was entirely unknown.
Downstairs, the Nations were cringing, having heard the terrible screams coming from England's room, but had been unable to enter to see what was the problem. They all froze when they heard the stairs creak, signifying that someone was coming down them.
They waited in a harsh, uncomfortable silence, waiting for Arthur to enter and yell at them all about privacy. When he did enter, however, they were once again frozen in shock. Arthur had edged the door open just slightly, enough to poke his head around, then to pull the rest of his body through, his left hand brandishing a handgun. The Nations stared in shocked horror as England loaded and cocked the gun, lifting it to chest height then holding it with two hands, like a professional.
Then his voice, strong and powerful came, "MI6, put your hands in the air! You are intruding on private property, state your business."
The silence prevailed, then broken by a shocked, incredulous voice, biting though the thick silence. "Iggy?!"
Feeling awfully suspicious, dread beginning to bloom in his heart, Arthur asked, "How do you know that name? Who are you?"
The lights were thrown on, bathing everyone in artificial light. The Nations stared at England and England stared at them. Then a nervous laugh started to bubble in Arthur's throat but was ruthlessly smothered.
"Well, this didn't come out as I'd hoped." Arthur Kirkland said dryly.