England's mind was spinning. What was being told to him, none of it could possibly be true, could it?

And yet, he figured that there was absolutely no way for him to doubt what was being said to him.

Oliver had only grinned shyly and told him everything.

"We really are just ghost stories, Arthur, brought to life. Thanks to you, I suppose."

England groaned. Of course. Of course it would be his fault. "How exactly is that?"

"Well, it isn't any secret that you are rather gifted in magic. Something, I regret to admit, I am not." Oliver cleared his throat. "In short, your believing in us since you were little is what created us in the first place. Plant a seed of fear in a child's mind, and it grows until it consumes them. Fascinating, isn't it?"

So if he hadn't obsessed over his fear of them, they never would have existed? Just bloody brilliant.

He ground his teeth. "I'll have to thank Francis for telling me the lovely story, then."

This statement produced a laugh for the pink-colored man which caused everyone in the room to jolt, even the frenchmen in the corner. It was no doubt a frightening sound, high pitched and menacing.

"That reminds me, Arthur!" Oliver took a deep breath as he wiped a tear from his eyes. "We are going to need a little help finding the rest of your family."

"What..." England's heart started to pound faster. "What do you need them for?"

"Well, Arthur, right now you're about the only person who actually believes we exist. As a result, we only exist for you."

The canadian seemed agitated. "Get on with it, eh, Oliver?"

Oliver snapped, again. "Would you like to tell him, Matthieu?"

England noticed Allen clench his fists as Matthieu rolled his eyes and rested back against the wall.

"Now," Oliver relaxed. "Before we get rudely interrupted again, I'll continue."

England waited as a creepy grin once again spread over his captors face.

"We truly are fortunate that you aren't a regular human being, Arthur."

His stomach lurched. He had to be referring to his nation status. With him, they could put his country in serious danger.

Doing his best to keep his bodily tremors under control, England responded. "Whatever do you mean?"

Oliver laid a hand gently on his his dirty blond hair. "Oh, England. You should know that we know everything about the people we represent."

Then he grabbed the hair in his fist, pulling him up closer to him. England yelped, tears seeping from his eyes. He felt the cold of the blade on his throat.

"Now tell us how we can find them, and maybe this won't be so painful, hm?"

What am I even doing. It was painful to write Iggy in such a scenario. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. :(

But anyway, I also enjoy writing Oliver. I LOVE HIS EVIL SO MUCH. :)

So I'm conflicted. Ah well, now I get to bring in the other characters here within the next few days. Not sure whether I'm looking forward to that or not.

As always, thanks for reading. And don't forget to leave a review!