Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters; those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. All credit to creepypastas has been given to their respective owners.
Several nations scooted away from Thailand. "That was a bit much," Taiwan said uneasily.
"Huh?" Thailand looked at them, confused, "What I'd say? What was wrong with it?"
"Nothing was wrong," Cyprus admitted, "Just...dark. That was dark."
Poland frowned. "Dark? Did we, like, hear the same story?"
"You mean you didn't get that one either?" Bulgaria stared at him with astonishment.
England sighed. "I'm not exactly surprised."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" The Polish man turned to him.
"Ve~, Germany? Could you explain what happened?" A few nations now looked at Italy with shock. His German friend pinched the bridge of his nose.
"If you just think about it for a moment—"
"No, don't tell him; it'll spoil the fun," smiled Denmark.
"But if he doesn't get it, then what fun is there to have?" Norway pointed out.
"I think you guys should just tell more straightforward stories," said Poland.
"But they shouldn't be too straightforward," Romania replied, "Then that kind of defeats the purpose of it being creepy."
"I agree with you on that," said Germany, "Not because the story necessarily has to be scary, but sometimes a straightforward message just isn't as memorable as a carefully hidden one…"
For What It's Worth
Based off of "Appetence"
Credited to FandomSketcher
It's always so noisy in the kennel room. I listen not to the other dogs' shouts and threats for food and water. The humans feed us when they feed us; it has always been that way since we were pups. Instead, I focus on cleaning the wounds on my forepaws and legs, the blood still pouring down steadily from the bite marks. It's not so bad this time; usually my wounds after confronting a pure-bred fighting dog are much more severe. Master himself had called off the fight early to spare me serious injury.
The door to our room is unbolted, the grating noise harsh to my ears. The other dogs make louder their demands. As if the humans can understand them.
"Shut up, ya' stupid mutts!" the human entering shouts into the cacophony. He is not the Master, just an underling. I snort softly as he walks around to all the cages. In his two hands is a large bucket filled to the brim with bloody slabs of various meats. I can feel my stomach churning as I look at them, my mouth watering at the smell. Three days without food did take a toll on my strength; otherwise, I would have easily defeated that Tosa in the ring today. At least that's what Master claims.
The underling stuffs a piece of meat through the bars of the cages, pulling his hand out seconds before the dogs inside can tear off his fingers. "Jeez!" he hisses when one Pit Bull comes very close to removing two of his fingers. Eventually he comes around to my cage. It is only with me that he opens the cage door. He even pets me briefly. "Here ya' go, mutt. I gotta' special steak just for ya'." He tosses in the large meal before slamming the door shut.
I sniff the meat. It's horse this time. I grab the morsel with my teeth, relishing only for a moment its tenderness and bittersweet flavor, before tossing it to the back of my cage. Delicious as it is, I cannot eat that. Not until he has had his fill.
My cagemate, lying in a curled ball, jerks at the sound of the meat landing in front of his face. He looks up warily at me with terrified eyes, questioning me if he could really have it. I shift closer to the front of the cage, my body hiding my friend from view of the human. With a tiny whimper of thanks he eats it. I keep watch as my stomach softly moans.
The door bangs open again, and another underling enters. He glares for the one feeding us, shouting something about 'the boss' coming in a few minutes. At the sound of my Master's name, I perk up and wag my tail somewhat. The underling who'd just entered notices me.
"Oi, did you feed him yet?" He comes over to my cage. When he sees him approaching, my cagemate hurriedly scarfs down the rest of the meat and slinks to the furthest corner of the cage to cower.
"Yeah," the other calls out, stepping over as well.
"And you made sure he actually ate this time?"
"I put it right in front of him. I really doubt that other one managed ta' steal it." The feeder underling glares at my cagemate. "Such a pathetic mutt. What breed is he, anyway?"
"Lupo Italiano," mutters the other one, "He's supposed to be half-wolf and half-German Shepherd, but he's nothing but all chicken if you ask me. The boss wanted to sell more exotic working dogs; standard ones just aren't fetching what they used to."
"No wonder this one hasn't mauled him ta' death yet. He probably thinks he's his half-brother or something."
"Nah, this guy's smart. He only does what the boss says." The human sticks his fingers through the bars to pet me. Several dogs around me scream at me to tear his limbs off out of spite, but I wordlessly ignore them. As the human implied, I'm not stupid. You never bite the hand that feeds you. These years of starvation and torture are nearly unbearable, but I have faithfully stuck by my code, a code I wish to instill on my cowardly friend. Never bite the hand that feeds you; you're reward will come soon enough. "He was bred to obey."
Two dogs brawling with each other over their shared piece of meat quickly redirects the attention of one of the humans. He curses as he hurries to break up their fighting. The other puts down the bucket and opens the cage door again. This time he reaches for my friend in a gesture indicating he wanted to pet him.
The Lupo Italiano, however, begs to be left alone, with subtle undertones of a threat to retaliate. While the gesture was an obvious plea to any dog, to a human it could have easily appeared as a half-hearted attempt at baring his fangs. Such a misunderstanding could easily get him killed in this place. I snarl coldly at my cagemate as the human retracts his arm in fright. My friend cries an apology before curling back up into a ball. "Hah, ya' got him trained good," the human chuckles nervously. He leaves with the other human some moments later.
With them gone, I growl lowly at my friend, reminding him that you never bite the hand that feeds you. He doesn't respond. I don't blame him.
The humans must have been misinformed because the Master never came. I'd spent the whole day expecting him, awaiting the prospect of him coming to see me. Yes, he may be the one in charge of this underground breeding and fighting facility, and, yes, he was the one responsible for all of my torment, but he's also the one who rewards us. I knew that deep down the Master was good.
But then, two days without food later, he appears. I can't be anymore relieved. I can hear the Master's muffled voice outside the door that separates the kennel from the rest of the human world. I wake up my friend with excitement. My cagemate looks terrified at seeing the Master again, but I assure him not to be afraid. We were finally going to be rewarded for our obedience.
At last the Master walks into the room. The other dogs go wild, cursing the man and swearing to tear him to shreds. I snort to myself and think how they'll never get that chance even if they wanted to. They've tried too many times to attack the underlings; as if the Master is stupid enough to put himself near their cages. He walks straight up to my cage and grins.
"It's good to see you, champ. How's my best dog doing?" I gesture discreetly for my friend to pay attention before responding to the Master with a dignified bark, one that silenced all the other dogs. "HAHA! That's what I like to see! Dogs that command respect." He bends down but does not open the cage. "Sorry about what happened earlier this week. But I had to scout out the competition and needed to use you as bait. At least now I have an idea of how strong their bred Tosas are." He laughs again. I merely wag my tail and crouch low, a sign to play. My friend stares at me like I've gone mad.
I'm just waiting for my reward.
"Ah, alright. Since you've been such a good boy." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large bone with scraps of meat still on it. I almost can't help myself as he leans closer, unlatches the cage door, opens it—
I lunge straight out. Fangs pierce deeply into the human's jugular, the sweet, sweet blood spraying across and down my mouth as I rip ever so delicious chunks of flesh and muscle away. Gurgled cries of shock go unnoticed as I tear at him again to fill my starving belly. This is why you never bite the hand that feeds you; it's much too bony to provide any sort of meal. The throat is much more succulent. Aim there. Oh I knew the Master was good, so very good. I haven't been rewarded this well my whole life.
I turn around and eagerly offer some to my friend. After all, he should share in the reward too. But my friend can only watch me with a newfound terror in his eyes, backing all the way into the corner of my cage. Shirking him off, I ravenously return to the meal.
My stomach aches with so much food. I can hear shouts of humans behind me. My friend whimpers for me, and I regret that I didn't hear him all that clearly over the crushing of flesh between my teeth. Moments later I feel something heavy and cold press against the back of my skull; by this point, however, I am far too content with the food in my belly to care about it. The noise of a loud click rings outs, and all other sounds in the room cease to exist. I knew what that noise was. It was the noise the humans' gun made right before it 'put down' one of us. I swallow the meat that is in my mouth and lick whatever thin layer of blood coats my muzzle. It seems my reward will have to be cut short. A shame. But for what it was worth, I'd do it all over again.