Title: Project Pandora's Box (10/30)
Series: Hetalia
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Warnings: Language, violence, AU, boy love, POV shifts
Pairings: US x UK (primary), France x Canada, Germany x Italy (implied, for the most part), JapanxChina (also implied), past mentions of RussiAmerica
Summary: Ivan comes to visit and scares the hell out of everybody. Yet, there's a reason he has come. Ivan has a case he's willing to share with Alfred and his team. It might lead them to the answer of what the Ice Siren was trying to tell them.
Russia: ^.^
Me: …(Thinks: Oh, shit, not again…)
Russia: ^.^ So—
Me: DAMN IT I'M SORRY YOU GOT THROWN OFF OF THE COUCH! T~T
Russia: ^.^ I'm having a feeling of déjà vu. Anyway, so…the chapters. It is definite, then?
Me: Oh…uh…yes. Yes, we're definitely having 30 chapters for this story. Ahahaha…ha…ha.
~*~*~*
Episode 10: Immortality Sucks (Part 2)
~*~*~*
Alfred was the first to wake up that morning. He felt very warm, comfortable, and was disinclined to move. The blond sleepily opened his eyes and saw that not only was Arthur in the bed, but so was Ivan. In fact, Alfred was sandwiched in between them. And both of their arms were holding him. Ivan had claimed the shoulders while Arthur was hugging Alfred's waist.
A few thoughts entered the American's sleepy mind. The first was how was the bed able to hold three people? His second thought was how did they get into the bed with him? And the last was that he was just too tired to deal with that right then. So, Alfred immediately fell back asleep, heedless of the consequences.
The consequence was that Arthur was the first to wake up after Alfred. Seriously, the only thing the young American remembered of that morning was a shriek from the blond Briton and then finding himself on the floor with Ivan. Alfred heard a few indignant phrases hurled at the two (mainly at the American), but he was too sleepy to figure out what was just said. Then he heard Arthur storm into the bathroom for a morning shower. Alfred turned to Ivan, who was sitting right next to him.
"Did you put him in the bed with me and then climb in, too?" Alfred asked the amused Russian. Ivan's innocent smile was all the answer he needed.
"He looked uncomfortable," the American was about to ask where the real Ivan was when the Russian added to the sentence, "And I wanted to see how he would react. I did not expect a, how you say, 'schoolgirl' reaction."
Alfred just stared at the Russian for a moment before laughing. The thought of Arthur as a schoolgirl was just hilarious (and downright sexy).
***
The morning was spent in silence as they ate their breakfast. Alfred was questioning Matthew ruthlessly on what had gone on last night. The Canadian assured him that nothing had happened. Alfred knew that Matty was a horrible liar and he seemed sincere, so he would drop the matter…for now. Instead, he focused on Ivan.
"You know where we're going, right?" Alfred asked before sipping his second cup of coffee. Yes, it took at least two cups of coffee in order for the young American to wake up in the morning. Pulling all-nighters for many years did that to a person.
"Da. We are going to investigate the scene, firstly, before making our way to what is supposedly the victim's home," Ivan replied. He said no more. The Russian knew that the rest had been in the case file, which he had handed out during the flight.
When breakfast was done, they got back into the car. Once again, Ivan was driving and poor Francis was up front next to him. Alfred found himself sitting between Arthur and Matthew, which was only a little awkward (if Francis was back there with them, it would be even more awkward).
Alfred had to admit that the mountain trail was nice. There was plenty of forestry and the trail wasn't too rugged. He would have to keep this place in mind (he loved a good hike).
Ivan parked at the entrance to the trail and the young American impatiently waited for his brother to get out. The trail was going to be wet and dangerous, but that didn't matter to Alfred. He just loved to hear the birdsong and smell the natural scents of the outdoors.
The group of four carefully made their way through the trail. About halfway through, Ivan led them off of the path and went down a fairly steep slope. At the bottom was the crime scene, which was marked for their convenience. Alfred frowned and tilted his head. The bloodied message was still on the tree.
"The coroner said that he was killed by wolves, which makes no sense," Ivan told them softly. Alfred glanced up at the Russian. He had forgotten that Ivan used to work closely with wolf conservation before being recruited. "The only thing that makes sense is if someone had caused the wolves to attack and kill this man."
"Or he was all ready dead when the wolves came around," Francis commented thoughtfully. The Russian glanced sharply at the Frenchman, who merely shrugged. "Just a thought. There are many poisons that do not leave a trace."
"What do you think, Matty?" Alfred asked his brother. The Canadian tilted his head, looking at something unseen by the rest. He had that "listening" look, the look that he always got whenever a ghost was speaking to him. Alfred could never forget that look, not since that day they had gone through the construction site.
"I think…that Ivan is right. The man was running and all ready wounded when he tripped here. Out of desperation, he must have written that message before the wolves got to him," Matthew told the group. Ivan looked impressed.
"Tell me. Do you have a description of these wolves?" the Russian pressed. He was the expert when it came to wolves and wolf-like creatures, really. Matthew was silent for a moment, listening to the description.
"They were regular wolves, but their eyes were different. Their eyes were…human eyes," he replied, furrowing his brow. The agents looked to Ivan for what that meant. He had a grim look.
"тень волки, Shadow Wolves. They are creatures that have taken the form of a wolf, but were once human. They hunt mortals. Once killed by a Shadow Wolf, the spirit is forever chased by the pack, unless the spirit is black enough to join the pack in a never-ending hunt for the souls of the dead," Ivan explained, sending shivers down the backs of the other agents, "It is not a death one would wish for anyone. Still, it has been known that magicians powerful in the Forbidden Arts can summon a pack against their foes."
They shuddered at the thought. Alfred looked down to where the body had been found. What a way to go.
***
The house wasn't far from the crime scene. Actually, it wasn't a house; it was more like a rundown shack. The windows were grimy with years of dirt and there were cracks in the panes. Moss grew on the side of the shack and the door was torn open, literally.
Carefully, the five agents stepped inside. Inside, it was obvious that someone was looking for something the man had. Many things had been destroyed, including clothes, pictures, even cabinets. Whatever the person was looking for, Alfred had a feeling that he didn't find it.
Without a word, the agents split up to search the shack. Alfred picked his way toward the victim's room and shook his head at the damage caused. Of all the rooms, this one had suffered the worst. The bed and sheets were torn to shreds, and so were the books. A lamp had been broken and glass shards littered the floor. Shredded clothes were strewn everywhere.
The young American made his way carefully toward the side of the bed and saw that only one thing had been left untouched. It was a dingy, old nightstand. The drawer had a keyhole in it. Alfred frowned and tried opening it, only to find that it was locked.
Another feeling overtook him, one that was urging him to take the silver key out of his pocket. Alfred dug into it and pulled out the key. He paused, uncertain, but decided to believe his feeling, as he always did. The key struck home, a perfect match, and Alfred turned it. He heard the rusty click of the lock unlocking and he opened the drawer. Inside was a black, leather-bound journal with faded, gold leaf lettering that said The Immortal Journal.
"Hey, guys! I think I found something!" Alfred called out as he exited the room. The other four rejoined him in the main room, casting curious looks toward the black journal. Luckily, there was enough sunlight to read what was inside. The only downside was that it was so old; some of the words had faded beyond recognition.
Day – Year –
I found it! I – it! The key to immor—! It was the – all along! But…now I must protect the – at all costs. Who knows what would – if it got into the wrong hands, after –?
Day – Year –
I'm starting to – if it's been worth it. I've – to…to kill people in order to keep the secret safe. I've also had to – everyone I knew die, while I remained young and –.
Day – Year –
This damned – must be –! Many strangely – people have been coming, asking strange questions. I should have left the –ned thing in the lake when I had the –!
Day – Year –
I know that I – not have long to –, for those men have – to become more dema—. So, I hid the – keys to fi— where I – the immortal –. I just hope that some— gets there – the –, for that is what – call themselves, do.
"This man, he was going insane from all the years of living," Ivan commented with a frown.
"What keys? And how many are there?" Matthew asked, giving voice to the questions going through their minds. Francis shook his head.
"And what people?" the Frenchman added, crossing his arms and frowning. For those questions, the others had no answers. There was nothing left for them in the shack, so they left the man's home. At least, they tried to.
Standing in the doorway was a man dressed in robes of black silk. Red colored threads were woven in intricate designs all over and seemed to constantly change shape. A black hood was up, cloaking his face in shadow. The five agents tensed up and Alfred had a horrible feeling about the strange man.
"We shall take back what is rightfully ours. Do not stand in our way, unless you wish to end up like the poor fool you had found mere days ago," the deep voice grated against Alfred's senses. The strange man started to ripple, as though there were heat waves all around him. Surprisingly enough, he melted into the shadows, leaving no trace of his ever being there.
"Okay, that's it. Next time, we're taking some weapons from the vault," Alfred stated, breaking the silence. Ivan immediately agreed. Things were starting to become too dangerous, and they doubted that mortal weapons were going to help them (guns versus a dragon had taught them the important lesson of carrying around an enchanted weapon, just in case).
A/N: Okay, so, I might be doing a few oneshots set in this universe, but that will start when Alfie and Artie confess. They'll be fillers and have no bearing on the plot (although they might get mentioned), so they will be separate fics. :D