The great wave of the tide moved further along the island and the water lifted. Softly, surrounded by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the steadfast constellations, Simon's dead body moved out towards the open sea.
The crying continued well into the night. No one talked to each other; they only collapsed into themselves so that the rest of the world was cut off and it was just them trapped in their internal cages of depression and hopelessness. At one point in the night, Germany stood up and left without saying anything. He disappeared upstairs, and only a while later had he returned with the wet rifle in his arms. His movement had temporarily distracted the others from their suffering, and they paused to take note of the red splotches and the scratches littering his face. For the next while, they cried silently while watching the now tearless Germany drying off the rifle with a blanket.
America stood and walked up to the table. This new, sudden movement caught the attention of the swollen-eyed crowd, and so they watched him stop in front of the logbook. They all regarded every detail of him; his exhausted face where dark rings fell under his bloodshot eyes, the red that streaked like a web over his skin, and his fallen posture that signified the snap of all his confidence and energy. America could barely lift his head to gaze upon them all. When he grasped onto this ability, he sniffed before being the first to talk in many hours.
"I'm done."
Silence replied. He shook his head repeatedly as he continued in a grainy whisper.
"I am no hero. I thought I could save everyone, but I have only hurt others during this entire game. These last five days have been the worst of my life, but now I know what kind of person I really am. I know now that I was arrogant to think that I should be a leader. No one has the right to trust me. So... I'm done being in charge. I'm only going to get more people killed, because I am nothing but a murderer."
America turned away and slowly walked back to his sleeping area with a gaze that was directed only forward. He then carefully lifted a corner of a blanket so that he could slide under it and disappear from sight. The eyes stayed focused on the still lump.
"There's no need for that," Britain sat up and shook the blanket-concealed form. "Come now. It was an accident. None of this was supposed to happen."
"It is our fault," the whimper bled through the blankets. "Canada was right... We didn't even try to talk to him! I just tried to shoot him be-because I wasn't thinking… I am a terrible person!"
"But we thought he was the culprit," Britain said. "We were damn sure of it because of what Latvia said."
America groaned, "It is not Latvia's fault. He… he told us not to touch him. The reason Russia is de-… Everything is our fault..."
"We weren't going to hurt him on the roof," Britain continued. "The thunder scared him. That wasn't us."
America replied in a tight voice, "We scared him. He thought it was my gun… he was trying to dodge the nonexistent bullet."
The blanket quivered and thin sobs escaped out from under it.
"He must have been alive!" Britain exclaimed. "Come now- don't any of you remember the time he jumped out of an airplane without a parachute? He may have hit some snow, but he still broke all his bones and survived it! We came to help him. The wolves stopped us. We could of saved him if it weren't for them!"
At the side China shook his head as he ran his fingers up through his hair. He said quietly, "I hope the fall killed him before the wolves got to him... That is not a good way to go."
The crowd quivered together like foliage in the wind.
France then said quietly, "Is there another door that leads outside? If we are going to go out again and collect food… we should probably avoid that area."
It was understood what he meant. No one wanted to have to walk by whatever messy remains were left of Russia.
Ukraine cried out again,"Poor Russia… oh, poor Russia… We have to do something for him!"
Germany scrunched up his face and turned away as he grimaced.
"What did you have in mind?" he hesitantly asked.
"I don't want him to rot," she sniffed. "When we get out of here… I want him to be home. I want to bury him... I don't want this house to have him."
Germany looked over at Romania.
"Do you have any large freezers?" he asked.
"Yes," he said. "Two downstairs in the cellar though. At the very end behind the wine tanks. I already took up all the food from there, and we already finished everything off. They're empty."
Germany nodded solemnly at Ukraine, "We'll get him once it's light out."
Lithuania whispered, "Can we do the same for Latvia, when we find him?"
"Of course," Germany murmured back.
It would be daylight in a few more hours. The room went quiet as the crowd stared out the windows, waiting for the light to come back just as they always believed that it would. Once again, they pressed close to each other, holding their breaths occasionally, and clinging as though if the contact was lost, then those beside them would be snatched away forever.
Lithuania walked over to Ukraine when he noticed how she now sat alone. The space around her seemed so empty, where two others were supposed to fill. He and Poland reached her side and sat down beside her. She turned her head to gaze into his emerald eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Ukraine," Lithuania whispered.
As they stared into each other's eyes, they understood the heartache deep within the other. They knew the pain of losing someone important to them. Threads stretched out and pieced into their skin, slowly pulling to seal the gap. Lithuania fell into Ukraine, tears dripping off his face as he held her tightly and as she wrapped her arms around him. They embraced each other, so that they were no longer alone with their suffering. They now cried together, from the cruelty of this world that they were imprisoned in which the darkness was no longer restrained to the shadows, but now resided in some of the fluttering hearts around them.
The first glow appeared in the sky as dawn arrived. Ukraine watched the outside world brightening, and as the deep orange ball rose up over the horizon, fresh, sparkling tears ran down her face. The time was soon. Lithuania's head rested over the same shoulder that Russia's had once before, and Ukraine only stroked his long hair very slowly and gently with one hand. Her other hand meanwhile, refused to let go of his quivering body as the sun rose higher and painted the sky with bleeding colours.
Lithuania kept his eyes closed as he accepted the comfort that he so desperately needed, and Ukraine did not let him go because she desired something to care for and to bring to peace. She embraced him even after Germany, Britain, France, and Canada rose to their feet and headed towards the door, bearing many blankets in their arms. She comforted Lithuania to save him from the unbearable pain that she felt now. She watched these four people exit the mansion and walk around to the left towards the collection of rocks. She stared at those clean blankets in their arms as they walked past the windows; the ones that she realized would soon no longer be that way.
After what seemed like a time too soon to Ukraine, they were seen returning. Her trembling increased as the door opened inwards and every eye in the room was raised. She was amazed that she still had tears left to cry, although in truth she had many more left to give. They poured down her face as she clung to Lithuania and watched them come in.
The four stopped and one-by-one met Ukraine's eyes.
"His body's gone," Britain said.
She replied with a choked whisper, "What?"
"There's nothing there," Canada murmured.
She stroked down Lithuania's back before slipping on her shoes, rising, and walking towards the door. No one stopped her this time from going outside. She passed through the doorway untroubled, immediately continuing on to look to the left.
It was hard for her eyes to behold at first, so she wandered closer until she was beside the exact collection of rocks Russia had been folded over the day before. There was not a sign that he had ever been there. The rain had washed away every drop of blood, and no strips or balls of gore had been left in the grass. There was absolutely no red skeleton carcass like that of those of the animals in the forest, lying right before her.
Ukraine gazed to the soaked grass that had been pressed down. The ground was scored with multiple claw marks. There seemed to be a general direction, and she carefully trailed it for a few metres. In some parts there was more mud than grass, and in one of these locations, she crouched down suddenly. Her eyes examined a long gouge that scarred the ground. It was the unmistakable mark of a heel digging deep into the mud, and beside it was a huge paw print stamped there like a fossil.
That mark is not shallow, she realized.
France appeared beside her.
"Ukraine," France murmured. "What is it?"
She whispered, "Russia survived the fall… He was still alive."
She pointed out into the forest.
"They dragged him away," she continued as her shining eyes found France's,"We have to look for him!"
France uttered, "He might just be in the bushes over there. The wolves might have thrown him around a bit."
"No," Ukraine breathed. "He's alive. I know he is- he must be!"
She scrambled across the lawn. France tore off after her, gasping, "Ukraine! He couldn't have fought them off in that state!"
"He is strong!" she exclaimed.
"He fell from the roof- Please. It is not good to get your hopes up so much..."
She jumped into the sparse forest and whipped her head in every direction.
France said, "You saw what they started to do to him. Stop, please- before you see something that you really shouldn't see. Let us take care of it instead. We'll look around here after breakfast."
"He must have escaped!" she cried. She scoured the ground for a single sign, hoping that perhaps she would be lucky enough to find a footprint. In a few moments, a black patch of cloth was snatched between two of her fingers. Her eyes gleamed excitedly as she rubbed it between them.
France's eyes widened as he peered past her to an area she had not seen yet. One where bent branches pointed at the sky with broken, white and red-stained wood, and where mud had been thrown over disturbed leaves. He could see plainly that this was a scene of struggle, and he surmised what lay just out of sight behind the thickets.
She was about to turn towards it, but France quickly held her shoulders and turned her towards the mansion.
"Let's show the other's the cloth, shall we?" he asked. "They'll definitely want to go looking for him. How about we wait until we have some weapons before we go searching?"
"Oh, you think the wolves are still around here?" she asked nervously. She held the cloth tighter to her chest as she walked alongside France.
"We thought that they only come out at night, but that is clearly not the case," he replied.
Everyone in the main room looked up as France returned inside with Ukraine.
"Why were they right there?" she whimpered aloud for all to hear. "In that exact spot at that exact time? There… must be a reason!"
"Reason?" Britain echoed.
She raised the hand clutching the cloth high into the air for all to see.
"They came to take him!" she cried. "Someone sent them!"
"Sent them?" Germany muttered. "But, they are wolves... wild animals."
"Possessed wolves," America reminded them from under the blankets.
"Please," Ukraine pleaded, lowering her hand and opening it to show the cloth to Germany. "Look. There's no blood on this, but it was ripped off. And the drag marks in the mud showed resistance. He was alive! He is alive! There is no gore outside because they were never going to eat him!"
"You think that the wolves are being used now to capture more people?" Germany asked.
"I saw one bite his arm," Austria uttered. "Then they all just started… doing the same…"
"We all ran away," America said. "Like cowards. Now we don't even know what happened or where they might have taken him..."
Lithuania perked up, "Do you think Latvia is okay too then? That they were only taken? There was howling before he started screaming. If the wolves aren't eating people, maybe- maybe he is alright too..."
"This was all a setup," Canada's eyebrows raised. "It is multiple steps- and Russia must have been right!"
"What do you mean?" Germany muttered.
"Based upon what Russia said, he and Latvia were on the target list," Canada explained. "And they are missing now. This person used the chaos to snatch them. First, they got you to turn against Russia, by using Latvia. They forced him somehow to tell us that it was Russia, so that you would attack him. They wanted us to find Latvia- they were not trying to kill him. They closed the door on purpose so that we would notice it and go into the room to 'save' Latvia.
"Whatever they threatened Latvia with made him have to lie, because Latvia did say that he 'had no choice'. He also refused to say anything at first because he knew that Russia was innocent. Then, once you weakened Russia, they took him. And because Latvia would eventually be exposed as a liar, the person knew that you would snap and attack him too. So they predicted that Latvia would flee again once he felt that his life was being threatened. Once he was outside, the wolves were sent out to get him too."
Germany was breathtaken.
"Who the hell are we dealing with?" he whispered.
"Someone very dangerous," France replied. "Who has studied a lot about human psychology probably."
"Everything then…" Britain murmured. "Absolutely everything was part of a plan."
"Russia was right about Norway," Germany said. "It was a distraction so that it would be harder to notice the true pattern. He was permitted to see the black of his clothes too, so that we would blame each other and heighten our suspicions."
"What about Finland?" Denmark asked. "What purpose could that serve?"
Canada replied, "To mess with your psyches. This person supplied you with weapons and rage, hoping that you would use them."
"But how could they have known we were going to the shed in the first place? I mean, the very first time?" Denmark continued. "The beast was already down there. And how could they have known Finland would be going down, when Germany announced that he would be doing it?"
"How does this person seem to know everything that goes on here?" Germany sighed. "I don't know. They are always on top of all the happenings, and apparently very far ahead of us too. There is probably another thing under partial development that we haven't yet realized."
"Like, how do we win then?" Poland piped up from beside Lithuania. "If this person is so smart and is using black magic, what chance do we have?"
"There are clues somewhere," Germany said. "We just have to keep looking. Eventually, this person will make a mistake, because no matter how smart you are, accidents happen. We have more food now. We can afford to wait for the slip-up, while being careful and protecting ourselves from being the next victim."
"And those on the list-" Canada located each of them with his eyes- "Be extra careful."
"Why are they going after Soviet countries though?" America murmured. "Who has such a big grudge against them?"
"You?" Iceland uttered.
"No way man!" the blanket gasped. "Just Russia. I had nothing against the little guys! We gave some of them NATO memberships. We- I, want to help those guys!"
"Based on current findings," Germany carried on. "It actually seems that one of the Eastern countries- perhaps someone supposed to be a part of the target list- is responsible. The three-barred cross of the Eastern Orthodox Church was found on the wall in the tunnel."
"The nations who have many believers of that religion are all on the hit-list," Britain said. "So one of them might be playing the victim role."
France waved off the suspicion with, "The culprit might have purposefully drawn the cross there so that we would take our attention away from the Western and Asian nations!"
"Good point," Britain followed up. "We can't even trust that."
Germany frowned, "It doesn't make it easier then. Now it is going to be hard to determine what is a slip-up or clue, for this person cannot be predicted yet."
France looked over at him, "Then what do we plan on doing today?"
A micro-expression of awe flashed upon Germany's face. Even after his tantrum from last night, they still seemed to want him in charge. Even after he screamed at Ukraine and throttled Latvia, they still considered him the best person to control them.
His face settled into an expression of seriousness; the commander that they wanted to see. He replied, "First, we go to the place Latvia was possessed. I want to know why that spot in the forest was so special."
Then he immediately dove into the depths of his own mind.
Why do they still look up to me? Germany thought. Have they not lost all trust in me, and fear me now? Or is it possible that… they agree with what I did? When I told them to quiet, did they feel better for it? That one person had not succumbed to depression and hopelessness? Could it be that a part of them enjoyed that I was screaming at them, because they felt that someone had not given up?
He remembered snatching Latvia from Canada, wrapping his large hand around his scrawny throat and raising his squirming body in the air in front of everyone. Reconsidering it, Germany knew that he must have appeared as a savage for employing his strength to intimidate and subdue someone so small that could not defend himself from such an attack.
However, he remembered how for the longest time, no one had spoken out against his actions. They had merely watched him toss around the body, shake, beat, choke, and scream in his face. Only one person sympathized with Latvia, and that had been Canada. Canada had been there to see Latvia hanging from the bedpost with the rope they had used before to tie up Russia. He was the one to catch him and hold him while he cried. No one else had been there. They only found out that Latvia was a liar, and they had agreed with Germany when he had claimed that it was therefore Latvia's fault for Russia's apparent death.
They wanted the answer as much as I did then, Germany thought. And when Latvia refused to give it, they were alright with me doing whatever it took to get it from him. So perhaps that means then, if I hadn't started hurting him, someone else would have. Their eyes had been sadistic until I went a little too far. Then, they realized what was happening. Unless, no one but maybe Lithuania cared about Latvia's wellbeing. They just didn't want to lose the answer.
Then, if they still trust me, they don't see anything wrong with what I did last night to him. Even if he is dead now, they still think that I did nothing. That Latvia had it coming.
Lithuania said, "He fell into a tunnel in the middle of the forest and came out acting weird. Something is down there."
"Another tunnel?" Germany mused. "So there might be a lot more hiding out there."
"There were rocks around it," Poland said.
These words were surprisingly useful for Germany. He said, "There was a ring of rocks around the exit of the last one too. They must be used to mark them."
"We can look out for them this way," Britain said. "But it still does not guarantee that the culprit has not removed the rocks away from the entrance or exit of the tunnel that they might have hidden all the missing people in. If they are familiar with the location, then they wouldn't worry about marking it."
"We've been putting a lot of our past efforts into the forest," Germany said. "And if we continue searching like we already are, then we will find that tunnel."
Germany nodded to Poland and Lithuania.
"You're group will join mine. You will show us the location, and I will go investigate the tunnel."
Lithuania nodded. He felt a large amount of relief that he would now be allowed into the group with the leaders, who carried a weapon. He and Poland, the survivors of the group, could now have protection and more eyes checking around them. They would now travel with two other people, for Germany's group had donated Italy to the inside, and had lost Russia.
Germany got up to his feet, but Canada called out, "Germany, you forgot again."
"What?" he uttered irritably. Canada voice was so soft, so alike that of a mother trying to remind a clueless child of something.
"Breakfast."
He internally groaned. Everytime he wanted to snap into action, it seemed that this would always hold him back. He hated having to wait upon the weak crowd to get a little something to eat before heading out. He bitterly compared this to a gang of sniveling children who wanted a snack before recess.
Most of them don't understand. They haven't had anyone close to them taken away yet. Britain seems to understand, but damn Canada can't seem to get that there are more important things to be getting at. We cannot wait to cater to every individual's need. They need discipline! They need to toughen up, because if we are soft on them like you want me to be, they will only be helpless to attack! And how can we be sure that every second we waste is bringing one of the missing people closer to death? We need to find them as soon as possible!
"I'm going now," he growled. "My group is coming with me. If we find and save the others, I'll tell their loved ones that they did nothing to save them."
"Germany," Canada cut in. "You don't need to take it that far. Come on. It is just a few minutes, and then everyone has the energy to go on. They'll be more awake, so searching will be easier."
"I'm searching the tunnel now," Germany muttered. "I can wait for breakfast until then, because I'd rather not sit on my ass while Prussia dies in those few minutes I wasted eating acorns."
He glared at Lithuania and Poland. America was already at his side.
"Up. Now."
Poland frowned, but Lithuania sprang forward. Germany snatched the flashlight from the table and marched the four of them towards the door. Canada's eyes widened, and after a quick glance around the room, it seemed that only a select few had noticed it. They appeared nervous, and Canada could feel the uneasy flutter in his chest.
His mouth parted, but the reminder never escaped his lips. Canada glanced at the untouched logbook, and then he looked back up to see Germany and the others departing outside.
Fewer people have been using it, Canada swallowed, although the uneasiness stayed. When… will people forget to sign the papers? What will happen then, when we no longer keep track of each other? Where is the order going?
He placed a palm over his forehead.
Why didn't I call out to Germany? Canada thought. Am I not one of the Investigators? A leader? What held me back?
He then noticed it. Three of their weapons had been taken. What was left was half a hedge clipper blade, and a shovel- the only tool that seemed useful from what could be found in the shed in the forest. Germany had however, taken the scythe, rifle, and the other half of the hedge clippers.
Why did he take nearly everything? Canada's eyes widened. Just how much faith is he putting into that tunnel? No… he took the most dangerous weapons. Is it that he does not trust us?
He took it upon himself to get the others going. He collected Italy, and they went to the kitchen together to begin preparing a breakfast from the supplies that had been collected in the forest from yesterday. Canada frowned slightly when he gazed into a full bowl of acorns, realizing now that he would have to take the time deshelling them. To speed things along, he left to ask Japan for assistance, who gladly gave it.
For the first few minutes, they worked in silence, until Canada realized that perhaps he could talk about his misgivings with these two. They were both close to Germany.
Canada began with, "How do you feel about last night?"
Italy gave a short yip and stiffened, and Japan's expression dropped.
"Ohhh, I don't feel good thinking about it..." Italy moaned.
"Me too," Japan said. "Everything that happened last night was very unfortunate."
Canada asked quietly, "Who's fault do you think it is, truly?"
"Fault?" Japan shook his head. "I do not think it was anyone's. I think it was a terrible accident caused only by the person responsible."
Italy quivered, "I don't know… It all happened so fast!"
Canada sighed, "But at the very end, when we were all together… How did you feel? Do you think Germany was right to be so angry? Did Latvia deserve to be hurt, even after he lied?"
Japan replied, "I do not blame Mr. Latvia for lying. I agree that there must have been a reason for why he did what he did. I know that he could not tell us, so I do not think that Mr. Germany should have hurt him. He was never going to tell us anyway."
Italy murmured, "It was really scary… I've never seen Germany like that before… I thought that he was going to break him by accident!"
"Germany is your friend," Canada said to them both. "If both of you thought that he was wrong, why didn't you stand up to him?"
"Me?" Italy still shivered. "He was so scary and I didn't know what to do! I didn't want him to get mad at me…"
Japan said, "I was not sure if he was able to listen to reason at that time. He is better this morning, but last night… I also did not want him to turn on me."
Canada shook his head, "But if you both feel this way, then we could have stood up against him… Instead, only I tried, and no one supported me."
"My sincerest apologies," Japan stopped to face Canada. When they made eye contact, he bowed slightly. Canada blinked, realizing that it was indeed true that this person regretted being a bystander the last night.
"I'm sorry!" Italy cried. "I didn't know what to do! Germany is just so big, and he was so loud- I am just so small and I didn't know what to do!"
"I understand," Canada murmured. "But I wonder… were we all against it, but just no one did anything until the last second?"
"Maybe some of us were against it," Japan said. "But I think most people agree with what happened."
"Agree? Why would they allow this?" Canada gasped.
He replied, "They maybe think that Latvia deserved it."
"No, he didn't! Germany was insane last night. Violence is not the answer, and what Germany did was dangerous! Latvia was already hurt and scared, and if he really couldn't tell us, then we should have left him alone. Germany just did not want to take responsibility for what he and the others did to Russia, and the search for his brother is making him unempathic to everyone else."
Italy said, "Yeah, Germany's been getting really weird. He hasn't been talking to me at all! I sleep beside him, but he acts like I don't even exist! I don't want to say anything because he seems so busy, and I miss Prussia too so I don't want him to get the wrong idea if I tell him that he's freaking me out…"
"He has not been talking to me so much either," Japan said. "He gives me information, but we haven't been so close in these past few days. He is pushing others away, and he has only been close to Mr. America and Mr. Britain."
"The other two that are losing it," Canada muttered. "They are all forgetting their emotions. Maybe America got better after he took responsibility for what happened instead of shoving it off like Britain and Germany. Speaking of Britain… he has grown rather cold, don't you think so?"
Italy agreed wholeheartedly, "Yeah, he's really weird! It's like he has no emotions!"
"Why is that?" Canada mused. "He hasn't lost anyone, so why is he like this?"
"You can always ask him," Japan said.
"I'll do that then," Canada nodded. "It's better to do it now that Germany's out."
They began passing out the servings to each person. Canada was the last out of the kitchen with his things, but he was filled with a sort of dreadful enthusiasm as he came up to where Britain and France were eating side-by-side. Canada knelt down beside him with his glass and plate, which was not unusual as since the beginning, the leaders had gathered together at meals to discuss the current events.
He did not mind that France was there, so Canada began with, "Britain, I want to talk to you."
"About what?" he asked.
"Well, to put it simply, your emotions."
"Emotions?" Britain mused. "What are you getting at?"
"You have agreed with Germany on every decision," Canada said. "Why is that?"
"It is because he's been making all the right decisions, and that is all there is to it. He knows what he is doing, and he has the spirit that everyone else needs to get on."
"You don't think he is taking things too far?" Canada blinked.
"Not at all," Britain replied steadily. "His responses are appropriate. People are being lazy and unhelpful. They complain about every little thing, and seem to forget that they can't even come up with any better solutions. Germany has at least kept these rebellious actions down so that we can still work together. Even if the strategy includes yelling, it gets the point across."
"But what about Russia?"Canada asked. "Germany was wrong then."
"Russia was not our fault."
"America shot at him!"
"I don't agree with what America did," Britain sighed. "But at that time, we were dead sure that the culprit was Russia. With all of the suspicions against him, the confirmation of a victim seemed enough. We never once expected that Latvia would lie. Why would he? At least, that is what we thought unconsciously. He knew that we would react harshly. He made us overreact. It is Latvia's fault."
"But I was there!" Canada exclaimed. "I heard him. Latvia told you not to do anything!"
"I don't recall," Britain said. "But if he did, it is a good, innocent cover-up. I would say that the culprit could be him, but I don't believe he got himself up there on his own, and he is not tall enough to have stabbed Norway. He's not even wearing black- he's in a bloody rabbit costume for crying out loud!"
"But, you really do think that Germany should have hurt him like that?"
"Of course," he nodded. "Latvia held the answer to all of our problems. If he told us, we wouldn't have to keep risking our lives to find the missing people who could be dying right now. And if he had told us the truth in the first place instead of being a dirty liar, then Russia would be here right now."
Canada looked to the side.
"France?" he asked.
France frowned, touched his chin, and looked up to Canada.
"I think I am going to have to go with Britain on this one," he admitted. "We were all in the same room. If Latvia had told us who it was, we could have grabbed them. He must have lied to protect someone he is close to, which is wrong. We needed Latvia to tell us so we could save everybody else. Blaming Russia was a crime."
"I would say that Latvia deserves whatever he got out there last night," Britain pulled his lips to the side. "But we still need him alive, so I hope we can capture him."
"So you can hurt him again?" Canada whispered.
"Whatever it takes to get the answer."
Canada gasped quietly and looked at Britain with a shocked gaze. He asked hesitantly, "You… wouldn't torture him, would you?"
"Our friends have been tortured, and he is choosing to not do a thing to stop it!" Britain exclaimed. "We need the answer no matter what!"
The next gasp from Canada was louder. The look in his eyes was more terrified.
"Britain…" he whispered. "What happened to you?"
"Me?" he demanded. "You're the one being illogical! You think that protecting the rights of a guilty person is better than saving the lives of many innocents!"
"But we don't know Latvia's reason for lying!" Canada protested. "He might have been threatened with something, but is not even allowed to say what he was threatened with, or that he was threatened at all!"
"He would have told us eventually if you didn't keep trying to get in the way!"
"We're not savages!" Canada cried. "We have to be humane! You must understand the suffering of others and be considerate of it! You will get your answers- torture is not necessary!"
"Your way didn't work," Britain muttered. "You held him in your arms, but he still lied to you. You can't be gentle. Germany was right to employ violence. It is what people react to."
"Why don't you feel anything?" Canada asked. "Where did your humanity go?"
"Having logic and intelligence is better than uncontained sympathy," Britain replied. "I stopped myself from feeling emotions once we confirmed that ghosts are involved. They feed off negative energy, so I will not supply them with anything to let them grow stronger. You should do the same, Canada. Sadness and fear will only makes things worse."
"If we desensitize ourselves to tragedy, then we lose what keeps us human. And if there is no fear, then our deaths will be just around the corner."
"The insanity started when the game did," Britain smirked. "We just didn't know it yet. But your idea of insanity is different than mine in this case. You think that the loss of rules and doing inhumane things is insanity. I think the loss of logic and doing things without reason is insanity. You therefore call us insane for using illegal methods to solve problems, but you fail to consider why we have to do what we do. You are like a lawbook. You aren't allowing room for exceptions."
Canada's heart thudded. There was something chillingly true in Britain's words, and no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he simply could not pull together a refutal. He instead flashed his eyes to France, desperately hoping that he could speak up, perhaps affirming that Britain was wrong with reasons that Canada was unable to grasp onto right now. However, France's face remained serious, and he stared back at Canada with a slight frown contaminating his lips.
"It is true," France murmured.
A weight plunged within him, fast and sudden like a rock cast into a lake. Canada was petrified for a few long moments. Then, a strong desire to leave them hit him, so he gathered his currently untouched plate and stood.
"Something wrong, Canada?" Britain carefully slid the food off his fork with his teeth.
"This mansion has changed you," Canada backed away. "And I don't recognize you anymore. Torture? Revenge? We are supposed to be happy. We came here to have fun. Who have you become?"
"This is not some English novel report," Britain muttered. "It is easy to say overly used poetic phrases like 'that is not Britain anymore' because of 'tragic events that he has endured'. Don't you realize that this is the choice I am making? That I am not some victim who has been corrupted by this situation? You do not have the right to pity us."
"But you are being manipulated," Canada gasped out. "You are-"
"No one is manipulating me," Britain glared at him. "I am in control of myself."
"You really aren't-"
"Don't pity me. Don't act like you are superior."
"I'm not. I'm just scared."
"Of what?" Britain tilted his head slightly.
"You guys..." Canada whispered.
"Why is that?"
"You want to hurt people!" he cried. "What are you going to do once this is all over? What will you think when you look back and recall everything you did here? If you torture or kill somebody, you can never take that back!"
"I won't regret hurting Latvia if we get our hands on him," Britain took another bite of food. "Even if he starts crying and bleeding, if he is still refusing to give us the key out of this Hell, then it's all the same to me."
"The same?" Canada's voice was hoarse.
Britain shrugged, "When it comes to a traitorous weasel like him… I feel nothing quite frankly."
"You can't be serious…"
He took another bite, then repeated, "I feel nothing."
Canada groaned softly, "You… You really are insane."
Britain only scoffed as Canada left them to sit with Japan, China, and Italy. Italy's brother sat close by, with Spain and Portugal. Canada could be seen talking to them now with furrowed brows, and based off of Romano's fearful reaction, Canada was discussing the same things with them. It was as though he was conducting some kind of poll. A question of "Are you for or against Germany?".
Idiot, Britain thought. You're only going to bring chaos with this mutiny. Germany knows what he's doing. I know what I'm doing. Back off. You're not some nurse caring for helpless patients. This is real life, and this is a serious situation. No one should be babied.
I'll have to tell Germany about this.
Germany and America followed Lithuania and Poland across the flattened grass of the cemetery that squelched beneath their feet. The ground was waterlogged and promptly drenched their feet, adding to the discomfort of the cold air hardly warmed by the rising sun surrounding them. As they shivered slightly and continued on, Lithuania scoured the area where it had been likely that Latvia's screams had arisen from. They climbed up a short hill, but when Lithuania checked over his shoulder, he saw nothing but rows of worn, cold tombstones.
He frowned and looked on ahead. They stalked into the forest, where almost instantly they stumbled upon a stampede of paw prints in the mud.
"More?" Germany voiced his thoughts. "Or the same ones?"
Lithuania glanced at them nervously. The prints headed pointedly in one direction, sharp and precise.
Be okay, Latvia… he thought.
They stepped through them as though wading through a river. They passed through without a problem, and Lithuania took the lead, remembering exactly where they had gone yesterday. They found the oak trees from before, and Lithuania realized how close they were coming to the site.
Eventually, he slowed and pointed.
"There," he said.
His finger levelled onto a ring of gray rocks. They approached it cautiously, until Germany could peer over the rocks and observe the sloped drop into the hole. He turned the hedge clipper half in his hand until he felt that it was in a good position to quickly slash. The flashlight was fished from his pocket and clenched in his left hand. He turned to quickly affirm that America was content with the rifle around him, and Lithuania keeping the scythe at ease against his side.
He did not pause to tell them what he planned on doing. He crouched down over the rocks with the hedge clipper blade outstretched in front of him while the flashlight was held closer. He clicked on the flashlight to illuminate the damp slope downwards that was scored with gripping hand prints and scraping footprints that indicated Latvia's ascent. Germany allowed his upper body to slide over the mud as he lowered himself to shine the light deeper into the tunnel. When nothing came out at him, he lifted himself up and slid his legs through between his arms. He shuffled himself downwards carefully until the tunnel widened and he was able to stand on the bottom.
He raised the flashlight, and but a few metres away, he found the end. Against the dirt wall, a metre away from where Latvia's footsteps ended, a large, slumped form was stationed. A small skeleton pressed against the wall with its skull turned to the side either as though bashful or watching him cautiously from the corner of its no longer existing eye. Germany had the hedge clipper blade up front in case a mist would seep out from its hiding place in the old, fragile bones.
He knelt down and stared at it with interest. It had a rotting clothes draping off it, and the bones were drenched by mud that had likely leaked from the ceiling onto it many times. An especially large clot was stuck to its forehead. Germany reached the tip of the hedge clipper forward to scrape the ball off.
Once removed, a deep carving in the frontal bone was revealed. Germany leaned to the side to get a better look at it. A pattern of precise dark slits in the bones made the Orthodox cross quite recognizable.
"Here again," he murmured to himself. "There must be a purpose to these… likely, a bad one."
His arm shot forward and stabbed through the cross with a dull crunch. He twisted the hedge clipper half in his hand so that the blade drilled a circle in the skull, and because of the small size of it, the hedge clipper cut into the orbital socket and extended the gaping hole. Germany yanked the blade out easily, although the pull caused the skull to fall from the body and nestle by a curled, skeletal hand on the floor.
Should take care of the one in that other tunnel too, he thought.
He tapped at the ragged clothing with the blade, but touched nothing but bone. He glanced over his shoulder, then backed away from the skeleton while alternating his head between facing it and checking the darkness behind him. He did this on his own, forgetting about the presence of the guards aboveground who had yet to yell out an alarm.
When he came up under the light, he clicked off the flashlight and tucked it in the pocket. He clenched the hedge clipper half while he army crawled up the slope. He stepped over the rocks with a front smeared with filth, but after a quick scan, the others were glad to find him unharmed.
"It was a short tunnel with a skeleton at the end," he explained concisely. "It had the Orthodox cross carved into its forehead, but I destroyed it."
"Ah," America murmured.
"But," Germany frowned as they carried on deeper into the forest. "Not a single sign nor hint as to where they can be."
"This game is so unfair..." America murmured. "They never gave us a single clue! Wouldn't they have gotten more entertainment in watching us try solving something but then failing?"
"I think they want to drag it on," Germany replied. "It seems to be like a score, where they see how many people they can snatch before we find them."
"What the hell's the point of this?" America groaned. "What do they want? How many have to go before they show us some terms? How many can they take, or will they stop? The pattern might not be real, and they might keep going until no one is left. What will that be like? I mean to be that last person, knowing that you are alone and that no one can save you. The last hope. I can't even imagine. Ghosts, demons, possessed wolves, no clues whatsoever… miles of land…"
Germany said, "Don't ramble. It won't come down to that. All we have to do is be careful."
"But we can't control these things!" America exclaimed. "I get it if we were just against a person, but we can't just beat everything! Ah… this is why I hate ghosts so much, just can't punch them in the face."
"We have weapons and we work together," Germany said firmly. "As long as we have these things, we can keep going."
France took Britain towards the site he had caught a glimpse of when out with Ukraine that morning. Liechtenstein, Austria, and Switzerland waited behind, where they would not see the gore if it turned out to be there.
They pushed away some low hanging branches until they rounded the corner where the scene opened itself up for them. A mess of leaves and mud watered with blood stretched out for a few metres wide and long. Plants were crushed and their branches were broken, due to what seemed to be the weight of many creatures. Upon closer investigation, Britain and France found more pawprints facing haphazard directions; ones that slid as though being pulled.
"He's not here!" Britain called back to the others. Directly after, the sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping were audible. The other three appeared and stared at everything before them. Liechtenstein gasped upon the sight of the blood droplets that were mixed with the beads of water over the leaves. She squeezed her eyes shut and found comfort close to Switzerland.
"With this struggle, it definitely seems that Ukraine was right and that he was alive," Britain said. "Hopefully, he still is so and we can rescue him."
"Thank goodness," Liechtenstein whispered.
Canada watched all the other groups leaving along with Japan and Italy. As it was on every day, the mansion was abruptly quieter and they were reminded of its emptiness. Although it could not really be considered to be true emptiness. Even here they could sense disturbances from far away, and their hairs raised as though the chill had reached them. Another door slam remained unheard; an isolated event in a world of its own.
"Alright, shall we?" Canada asked.
The pile of read books was high. They were now going to trek across the usually uneventful first floor and take the books back to the library to fetch new ones. Canada had their single weapon ready, and the children stood up and clustered together to have eyes peering out in four directions. Japan and Italy stood in the back while Canada led, although completely ready to spring backwards to attack an approaching mist or shadow if one was announced.
Finland had been sleeping less excessively since he had received his injury. As it healed further, his body did not need to spend more energy healing the smaller wound. He was awake at that moment, sitting up and looking over at the standing group. After a moment, he stood on his own and stepped towards the group.
Sweden hopped up, saying, "You shouldn't leave the circle."
"I want to walk around," Finland whispered. "I should keep my strength up."
"More people might attract more ghosts."
"Maybe," Finland replied. "But, what if it's not safe to stay here alone? They have the only weapon."
And five of them have charms, Finland thought, although he did not say this because he had listened to Sweden when he had talked about the amethyst pendant with the other Nordics. He knew now his feelings on the subject.
This convinced Sweden. He followed Finland to the group, ready to support him, although he seemed remarkably more stable than the day before, so it was not required. Each person carefully stepped over the salt line as to not soil it, and they slowly made their way down the hall that waited in silence for their arrival. Sunlight lit the path before them with a gentle touch, shining over the intricate patterns threaded into the carpet that were all so constantly forgotten. The art blossomed all around them like magnificent, tropical flowers, although no one paused to admire it. They walked forward because to spend time in captivation allowed more time for a predator to notice the new presences and creep slowly towards them.
They did not talk to each other, as though trying to keep a low profile while quickly passing through a dark alley. Nothing had ever appeared before on the way to the library or back; they had been so fortunate until Sweden barked, "The wall!"
Among their shadows pressed against the wall, Sweden had been adept enough to notice that an extra travelled just a little behind all of theirs. Canada raced to the back, dashing towards the silhouette that was a shade darker than the rest. He slashed the air, and the tip of the hedge clipper nicked a scratch into the wall.
The extra shadow disappeared, and the wall before him was now blank. He backed away to resume his position at the front. None of the others saw the bead of sweat trailing down his face, or how Canada gripped the handle firmly to try to will away the leftover quiver. He had not felt this way when tearing around the house after Latvia yesterday, but now he so suddenly realized the responsibility he had while leading this large group half-composed of children through dangerous territory. He grew nervous as he thought about how suddenly that shadow had appeared without any warning at all, and how close it had been to Italy.
Not only would it be a major problem if someone got possessed and started running around the mansion and putting everyone in danger again. I cannot imagine how furious Germany would be if I failed to protect them all. Especially Japan and Italy… that was too close. Italy didn't even see it there. If Sweden and Finland hadn't come along…
Canada pushed the door open that exposed the expansive room to them all. He felt more comfortable here, now that there was so much light and so much room. It would be harder for anything to sneak up on them now. They moved inwards and soon passed by the printer and powered-off computer, where Kugelmugel grabbed another package of paper. They then carried on to the second floor, where those carrying books began placing them back to where they had been found before.
Sealand paused in front of the large window that overlooked the cemetery once again as he did every time they came here. The same fascination always reached him and every person that decided to look at it while passing by. No one could avoid taking a good look out it, and so one-by-one, they would always take their turns staring into the mostly uneventful yard. Occasionally the wind blew, and the long grass stretched languidly to the side.
At this moment, Sealand's eyes caught onto a trio of crows flapping tranquilly over the scene. Japan and Italy were nearby, sorting the books with Ladonia, Moldova, and Kugelmugel close to their sides. Canada stood fixed with Sweden overlooking their surroundings, like guard dogs with their ears up in attentive pinpoint positions. Finland was behind Sweden, facing a bookshelf and overlooking the titles for something in English that might interest him.
Sealand's eyes lowered from the crows. He froze and his lips parted to allow a quaking breath through them. Sweden snapped his head back upon hearing the sound. He noticed Sealand now trembling, and how the side of his face had become so pale. He hurried over, with the brisk action startling everyone.
Before Sweden needed to ask, Sealand was already whimpering, "It's the-the thing!"
Everyone crowded by the window. Indeed, far across the cemetery next to the stained white building that was the burial vault in the corner of the cemetery, stood a tall, skeletal shadow with its abnormally long arms and fingers hanging limply by the knees of its even longer legs. It stood before the door for all eyes to see.
Sealand squeaked, "It's looking at us!"
The others narrowed their eyes. The Shadow was facing the mansion in full profile, and even from the distance they could see how the head was slightly tilted upwards to line up its pricked-dot white eyes with the window where their faces were clustered. It stood there without making the slightest movement. It only continued to stare right back at them unblinkingly.
Their insides felt chilled.
"What's it doing?" Finland wondered aloud. "It's just… standing there."
It was especially strange for him, for he and Sweden along with Denmark had remembered it in full action, in a hot pursuit after them. It was abnormally immobile now. Finland was observing the generic details of it, but then he drifted up its unnerving, vantablack-shaded body to its face. His eyes met the white orbs even at this distance.
He gasped as his brain was overtaken and his consciousness was momentarily ripped from this world. Red and purple light swept around him, and the impossibly tall trees sprouted high in all directions from the ground. Without deciding anything, he began to run. To where, he did not know at first. He could feel only the exhaustion in his legs, and intense cramps stitching his sides.
A very familiar growling reached his ears. His head turned over his shoulder to see a multitude of black, spiky-haired beasts dodging around trees behind him and flanking his sides. Their eyes and long fangs gleamed, and the saliva that flew from their mouths spun through the air as shining droplets. He heard the thunder of the dozens of feet pounding the ground, drowning out his own panting.
Ever since the day the Shadow had tried showing him these things, he had thought he had been shown the underworld. Now he understood that it was Hell, but it was here.
The snarls overwhelmed him. Among the small crowd of people, he dropped suddenly. As they all released cries of surprise that he could not hear, his mind whispered to him the realization.
The wolves.
Sweden snatched him before he hit the floor. It was the moment when his arms had hooked under Finland's armpits that the door to the room slammed shut with a heavy bam. Canada whirled around, gaze boring to scan the floor below them for any signs of movement. He saw nothing for now. He then said firmly, "Children, get your books. Everyone else- on guard. Let's get out of here as soon as possible."
The Shadow still stared far across the field up at them, even after they pulled themselves away from the glass to do as they had been commanded. Finland's eyes flickered open, and soon after he was balancing himself back on his feet. He felt much more dizzier than before, as though he truly had just exhausted all his energy in running for his life. He swayed from side-to-side, feverishly thinking only about how much he just wanted to return to the front and cozy up under the blankets to sleep for a very long time. His eyelids started to droop immediately after this thought had arisen.
The clock in the room burst to life. Everyone jumped with gasps as the powerfully loud sound of the clock striking the hour cracked the silent atmosphere
Bong!... Bong!... Bong!
It just kept going without an end in sight, or rather, it seemed to be proclaiming a time that was not now. Canada lowered his stance, searching frantically around them, and waiting for someone to call out an alarm for him. He snapped his head to the right, towards the narrow spiral staircase that rose to the second floor. He had looked just in time to see the cover of a book peek out inquisitively at them before it dropped from the second highest shelf of the bookcase. It hit the carpet with a heavy, dead smack. Canada stared forward, but he held his ground.
When the clock quieted, he crept forward towards the book. He trapped it under his foot, then walked backwards while dragging it with him. Still, nothing manifested before him. Once among the others, he bent down with his eyes still forward to collect the book.
His eyes flashed down to his hands. The title Lord of the Flies popped out at him in red text over the image of a sketched forest with boys with spears perceivable in the bottom. He noted the age of the novel; besides the original cover, the worn yellow pages indicated that it had likely been added to this library a long time ago.
He passed the novel back into Japan's hands, saying, "I'm going to take a look at this later. Everyone else, please just get what you want so we can leave."
They scrambled to it, almost randomly taking down whatever they could get their hands on, barely throwing glances at the titles. They amassed stacks of books in their arms. After Canada hesitated for a moment, they hurried past the spot where the book had fallen. They trotted down the stairs then across the first floor. Canada peeked at the clock's face, where the hands nearly lined up at the twelve.
But that's not right… Canada threw open the door and automatically sliced the air in front of him in case something had been standing there, waiting. Something messed with the clock.
They slowed down once out of the library. The lookout system was reestablished, although they returned to the salt circle without any issues. They dropped their books by the table and almost all of them instantly had plopped over the blankets and pillows in relief. Canada however, took the book from Japan and settled in the corner with it. The children did not touch the books just yet, instead opting to wait until their shivering subsided while holding the pillows in their laps. That is, all but Moldova. He was still, looking nothing but confused at the reactions around him.
Finland stumbled towards the blankets beside the mattress. He tucked himself in while Sweden sat beside him with his face alternating between looking down the left and right halls, and up the stairs, turning like a security camera. He was the only one in the group that was still riled up and quite agitated.
Canada opened the book and let the pages fall over each other. In but a moment a flicker of green caught his attention. He backtracked to the page, and found a sticky tab there. He looked over the page it was attached to, now finding graphite lines where a pencil had underlined passages of text.
They accepted the pleasures of morning, the bright sun, the whelming sea and sweet air, as a time when play was good and life so full that hope was not necessary and therefore forgotten.
Canada held the ends of the book tighter as his eyes sharpened.
What does this mean? he thought.
He flipped on further.
Ralph was annoyed and, for the moment, defeated. He felt himself facing something ungraspable. The eyes that looked so intently at him were without humor.
"But there isn't a beast!"
Something he had not known was there rose in him and compelled him to make the point, loudly and again.
"But I tell you there isn't a beast!"
The assembly was silent.
He found many more pages.
Things are breaking up. I don't understand why. We began well; we were happy. And then - ...Then people started getting frightened.
Pages later:
"I know there isn't no beast—not with claws and all that, I mean—but I know there isn't no fear, either."
Then:
"The world, that understandable and lawful world, was slipping away."
Canada felt anxiety rising within him.
Now out of the terror rose another desire, thick, urgent, blind.
"Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"
His hands trembled.
The blue-white scar was constant, the noise unendurable. Simon was crying out something about a dead man on a hill.
"Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood! Do him in!"
The sticks fell and the mouth of the new circle crunched and screamed. The beast was on its knees in the center, its arms folded over its face. It was crying out against the abominable noise something about a body on the hill. The beast struggled forward, broke the ring and fell over the steep edge of the rock to the sand by the water. At once the crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on to the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore. There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.
Unbeknownst to Canada, this had been the scene that Latvia had discussed with Lithuania just the day before. He had read this book however, and he knew the scene was about the boys murdering one of their own by accident, when they mistook him for the imagined beast they had all come to fear.
No, Canada thought. No…
The great wave of the tide moved further along the island and the water lifted. Softly, surrounded by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the steadfast constellations, Simon's dead body moved out towards the open sea.
The meaning was painfully clear to Canada.
Whoever underlined the text was describing Russia, he thought. Before what happened, happened… they knew all along that we would turn savage. This… This is the real purpose of the game! Everything is based on the book! The breakdown of rules and civilization. Fear of the supernatural beasts- although what we should truly fear is what we all are becoming.
This is not a scavenger hunt. This is no game of hide-and-seek. Everything that is happening here is nothing but a game of madness.
The clock in the room just outside of the salt circle went wild. Canada gasped and dropped the book. It tumbled over his lap to softly lay on the blanket. Canada stared up with the others at the booming clock that showed a time of 3:20. Until that point, none of them had noticed that this clock had also been changed.
"What did this?" Italy cried out.
Finland had waken up at the excitement. He joined the others in staring around at each other. Japan stood up and walked towards the clock, paused, then looked back at them with a frown.
"What time is it right now?" he asked.
They were clueless.
"Eight or nine-ish?" Italy cocked his head.
Japan went to work on turning the hands to eight-thirty.
"It might be broken," Canada spoke up from behind Japan. "It was going off at a random time."
Japan did not reply, and instead just backed away from the clock to sit back down. They all stared at the grandfather clock as though expecting it to erupt into a clamor again, but it stayed silent this time and ticked placidly. Canada picked up the book again and examined it closely.
After a while, he stood and placed it on the table. He planned on sharing the news with the others once they came back, and he would show them the quotes. His hopes were high that if they realized the purpose of the game, then they would consciously try to keep themselves sane as to not play along with this person's plans. His hand drifted away from the book, and for a moment, his eyes grazed over the collection of papers that was the logbook.
Canada froze, then stepped up in front of the papers to get a better look. His eyes had not deceived him, however. A name had been scratched out by hard lines from the pencil now dropped onto the floor. Canada made out the name Hungary.
His eyes widened before frantically going down this page. Estonia was scratched away, then Latvia.
On another page, Belarus had two clean lines cutting through it. Then however, right underneath the name, a huge bar of graphite heavily covered Russia, and it extended beyond the name to obliterate the times. At the very end, in the free slots that were left blank, someone had written in all caps and in bold HAHAHAHA!
Canada grabbed another pencil, flipped it, and furiously attempted to erase it. He pressed hard into the table until it rocked, and by now others were up and siding him to see what was happening. They saw what he was trying to destroy. They could tell, just like Canada, that this could not be erased. The pencil had been pushed deep into the paper to write this, so it had been imprinted. Canada instead flipped the pencil to scratch intensely at the paper until it ripped a gap into the writing. He continued tearing the hole bigger until the mockery could no longer be seen.
Who did this? his mind roared.
Even after he had destroyed it, a deep anger trembled inside him. The pencil snapped in Canada's grip. He unclenched his hand and let the two halves land on the table, dropping small chips of graphite and paint over the tablecloth. Japan and Italy looked in awed shock at the hard lines etched into Canada's face, morphing his normally placid face into one of uncontrolled fury.