It's been a while, but here's the next chapter. It's supposed to be short, so please endure. Also, it's NOT a flashback, it's just that this sort of scene reminded me of the first chapter, and it would be a cool affect. Also, especially after I planned everything out and wrote this chapter, I think I should change it to M, because it's creepy, and contains character insanity. No canon character deaths, cause I hate those. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

Sighing, he entered the key into the slot, twisting until he heard the pop. The aging man laughed at himself, that after 14 years of teaching, he forgot his ID on his desk. Especially with all the killings going on, the IDs are even more important. The board thinks it'll help monitor and keep track of them all, but Mr. Simmons, as an Algebra teacher, doubted it would solve the unpredictability of human nature. It was a variable that no one could predict. That said, Simmons was more paranoid than ever. A creak here, strange shadowing there. The school had turned off the lights a while ago, and the dim lighting from the ripened sun wasn't very calming.

Hastily, he opened his door and walked into his room. Everything was as he left it. After Mr. Simmons scanned his classroom several times over, he reassured his screaming mind and went to his desk. It was covered in various papers, such as report cards, things he had to sign, the graded sheets of the test last week. His laptop was tucked away into his bag, safe from prying eyes. Simmons had several skeletons in his closet, and was very protective of them. He mostly stored them onto the laptop, never letting anyone see the screen. Simmons was invited only after 11 greweling years teaching middle school students before he finally got transferred to the high school division, he did not want that to all go to waste.

Plopping down on his worn, yet still comfortable chair, his mind continued to ease, relaxing as he whined of his troubles in his head. Those new teachers; he knew how much they needed them, but they looked like they just graduated themselves. Bullshit that they would be invited to the high school division at their ages. Hetalia Academy rarely allowed outside teachers, only after a 15 year cycle. There's always a big festival, and a week without worrying about grading papers. Luckily, it was only 6 more months until April, and he couldn't wait.

Mr. Simmons was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't even realise another person entered his room. He simply stared off into the window as the other neared at a laidback pace. He was in no rush. The person knew he couldn't escape, and the teacher seemed to be enjoying his mental ranting. So, he waited in front of his desk, until Mr. Simmons would see and recognize him.

Moments late, he turned his head, before screaming the other's ears right off. The algebra teacher sprung from his chair, staring at the intruder. After his was able control his breathing and let the sudden adrenaline rush settle, he saw who it was. Sighing in relief, he apologized to the figure, who took it in stride, even apologizing for not knocking.

Suddenly, Mr. Simmons felt a wave of dizziness and lightheadedness. The person assured him it was just the sudden appearance and disappearance of the adrenaline rushing up and out of his brain. "I feel it often; after all, it's all in the moment," he said. Mr. Simmons glanced warily at him. "You, getting adrenaline on a regular basis? I doubt it," he snorted. Laughing, the person argued his hobbies were extremely tasking. "Why are you here, again?" asked the teacher.

The figure smiled, and it gave Mr. Simmons as feeling of eerie foreboding. "I was painfully reminded today of someone I lost. I didn't like it," He explained. The teacher nodded, confused on what this would have to do with algebra. Why else would a student come to him?

"I thought you would be the best one to come to, seeing as you are so familiar with pleasing yourself, with the embezzling and the porn."

The teacher nearly choked, staring searchingly into the other's face. It held it's smile. No one should know that, it was private, kept on his laptop! "I get it; you're lonely. Your wife's cheating on you with the nanny, leaving you to rot." Mr. Simmons looked at his face, shocked to find genuine understanding. To think the person in front of him held so much loss. Gulping, he stood up slowly, holding his breath. He didn't know where he got his information, but Simmons didn't think he should stick around to find out.

"I really have to get back home to my wife," he said, and started walking away. The person grabbed his wrist, and it was only then that he noticed he was wearing plastic gloves. He looked up, only to see he was now armed with a knife. Quivering, he tugged on his hand, staring the knife. "Damn it, let me go!" The person chuckled, "See, I'm good at pleasing myself, too. Thank you for your donation," he said. "W-what donation?"

"Your heart."

A rag was stuffed in his mouth, and with strength he never saw from this student, pushed into the wall. The knife was stabbed into his wrists, held above his head. It was deep into the cement. As warm blood trickled down his arms, he watched in horror as the person cut open his belly, and started ripping out his individual organs. Mr. Simmons tried to wiggle away, but that only made him go faster. Blood gushed, the only sounds accompanying Mr. Simmons's screams was the snapping, and squishing. The figure, in demented humor, started playing with his innards, poking and prodding, seeing how the teacher would react. Soft chuckling echoed in the room, as blood loss and trauma soon took Mr. Simmons to the other side.

The person pouted, disappointed he only lasted 10 minutes. He was a middle-aged, unhealthy man, so it was understandable. The killer left the scene, grabbing a paper towel on the way for the drops of blood that sprayed his face. Going into the bathroom, the person was smiling again soon, as the murderer set the gloves on fire. Although the killing was part of the plan, the person couldn't help the pure pleasure from seeing the blood, the pain. It was such a pretty red, reminding the murderer of its flag.

Sighing, the killer hoped that in the number of new teachers, the person's loved one would appear. All this was for that purpose. That teacher… that one will be next. It was annoying to see the resemblance every day.

With one last glance to the scene of the crime, the murderer opened a window, and jumped.

I hope you enjoyed it, and it got your brains moving. I think I gave you more hints than I should have, but I avoided anything that was a dead give away, cause that would be no fun. Please review, and remeber to check my stories on Valentines. I'm planning something special, so if you want to read fluffy romantic slash, be my guest.

9CatLives