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The Vanishing

Chapter 14 Cookies and Conspiracies

"What in God's name are you two doing here? You weren't even invited!" England yelled.

"Well isn't that nice, Liet?" Poland replied.

Lithuania didn't reply. He was being smothered in a huge bear hug by Russia.

"I invited them!" Russia said, his purple aura briefly pulsing. "Well, I invited Toris but not Polska. Toris! I'm so glad you're here!" Russia yelled, hugging the smaller Nation to his chest.

Poland ignored the big Russian's scowls. "We decided to drop by. I was in London for a Comic-Con… it was ace. And then we went to a trade show and I bought this…" Poland whirled.

England then realised why the Pole looked so tall. He was stood on a segway. It also kind of explained why the Pole was dressed like a Japanese girl with bright blue hair in pigtails, short skirt and a glittery top.

"Well… that makes sense…" England said slowly, not really thinking that at all. In fact, he rather thought he would much prefer to be tied to a supermarket trolley naked and shoved down a steep incline before he wore the outfit Poland was attired in.

"Of course it does!" Poland exclaimed.

He rode right up to England, "Now what the heck is going on?"

England stepped back, "We were just about to…"

"They were going to arrest me!" Russia interrupted, pointing at England and America. France was out cold on the floor. "But it was fun. I like wrestling games!"

"Ah…" Finland said, "Now I know why you lot aren't dead," he added as an aside to England.

England frowned.

"He thinks it's a game… you're very lucky," Finland whispered.

America was having none of this, "I tell yer dudes, the dude is a bad dude and has been kidnapping dudes," he told the newcomers.

"I don't think that Mr Russia…" Lily began to say.

"Och aye, neither do I," Scotland interjected but was silenced by a look from America and wandered off with his 'Wee Bertie' muttering something about whisky.

Poland frowned, "What kidnapping?"

It was the wrong thing to say, he was suddenly surrounded by both Italies, Liechtenstein, Finland and Spain - all telling him the long and sorry tale. All at once.

"My bruder went missing first. I saw a ghost and…" Lily began.

"That was no ghost, Missy er…" America admonished, but bizarrely nobody heard him.

"Berwald went missing. Can you believe it? He was in the pantry and I am not happy at all," Finland said.

"Luddy-kins… poor Luddy. I was so happy to see him and I went to get him a beer but his stupid brother Gilbert, who doesn't like me, and thinks I am gay and I'm not.. Well, I am but I'm also happy and…"

"Nobody cares about him," someone muttered.

"I had a bath!" Russia told him. He was still hugging Lithuania.

"Er, Sir? Boss? Can you let me go now?" Lithuania said, struggling to breathe.

Russia shook his head, "Nyet."

"Oh," Lithuania murmured, trembling slightly. "I baked cookies!" he managed to mumble.

"Cookies!" Russia released him and his eyes lit up.

"Anyway, back to the lunacy…" England muttered, watching Lithuania lead Russia away to the kitchen.

"I got hit on the head," Spain told Poland. "I didn't even get to finish cooking my paella."

"Yes you did, Antonio! Don't you remember? We had it for dinner last night," Finland said.

Romano shook his head, "Crazy tomato bastard."

"And that's not all, Mr Russia told me a very scary ghost story," Feliciano continued.

Poland turned to England, "Is all this true?"

"Yes, it is. All of it. Including the ghost story. I, of course, was not scared," England replied.

But he was shouted over now. A cacophony of voices.

Nobody seemed to notice that France was laid flat out on the couch with a dreamy look on his face, completely unconscious or that America was shiftily sidling out of the door.

"Then Gilbert disappeared. He was upstairs somewhere and America had disappeared into the wall and then reappeared. I was stood right in front of him," Finland continued.

"Who? Gilbert?"

"No. America."

"But I saw him."

"Yes, but he reappeared. The walls move."

"Like Hogwarts."

"That's the staircases, stupido."

"You mean the staircases move as well?"

"No! Are you insane?"

"No but…"

"Denmark left only his hat and a trail of beer! I have no idea what I am going to tell Norway when I see him. Berwald and I were supposed to be looking after him and…" Finland said, worriedly.

"Nobody knows where they went!"

"It's very creepy and I'm a bit scared."

"You're always scared, fratello."

"Mr France was kidnapped but then he was given back…"

Poland held up a hand to halt the talking, "What?" he asked.

"It's true. We think he proved too perverted for the kidnapper," England explained.

Poland nodded. He was still standing on his segway and seemed disinclined to get off it, despite the two Italies' pleas.

"What happened to Herr No Style over there?" Poland asked, pointing at Austria, who was still sat at the piano. "Why is he not moving?"

"Ah yes. He was poisoned," England explained.

"It was a tragedy!" someone said, dramatically.

"Is he still alive?" Poland asked. He swivelled his segway over to Austria and peered into the Austrian's glassy eyes.

"Yes… we think…"

"You don't know?" Poland looked aghast.

"Anyway, his cup of tea was meant for me!" England spluttered.

"It wasn't my fault!" Italy cried and then slumped into his brother's arms.

America skidded into the room, "Yo dudes! Did yer miss me?"

"No," England replied.

Nobody else answered.

"So, basically all these people have been disappearing, Austria is silenced and what have you lot been doing? Did you not think to ring for the police?" Poland asked.

"Oh let's see… the Police… Oh yes… Never thought of that! What a splendid idea! Who'd have thought?" England said sarcastically.

"Hey! Poland! When did you get here?" America yelled.

"You were here when they arrived. Are you mad?" England said.

"No but… hey! We did try to ring the Feds but the phone line was cut and then Artie dude tried to escape on the lawnmower thingy! And I was kidnapped but I escaped like a true hero!" America told them.

England frowned, there was something very odd going on. "You've lost your bloody glasses again!" he said. "What's wrong with you?"

"Yes, but I had a bath," America told him.

"Do you have short term memory loss?"

"What?"

England shook his head.

"Hey Liet! Come in here and look at Austria! It's brilliant!" Poland yelled through to the kitchen.

"Livonia's here?" America's eye lit up. Much like Russia's and he, like Russia, skidded into the kitchen to hug Lithuania.

Poland shook his head, "It's Lithuania to you, you clown," he said but Alfred had already taken off. "It's a good job he's cute," he told England.

Alfred found Lithuania sat with Russia in the kitchen and listening to a litany of complaints and grumblings. The big Nation sat eating cookies and drinking vodka-laced tea. When the Russian saw the American, he quickly hid his plate of cookies with one large hand.

"Yay! Toris dude!" America yelled and stopped dead as Russia growled at him.

England followed him in. The 'boy' was forgetful and nutty as a fruitcake but there was something very odd going on. But he couldn't put his finger on it. "When you were kidnapped, as you say…" Arthur began to say to America.

"I was, man!" America said. "Hey those cookies…"

"Are mine…" Russia growled, trying to cram as many as he could in his mouth.

"Did you bake them for Russia?" England asked Lithuania.

"Of course he did! He always bakes me cookies," Russia mumbled with a mouth full of baked goods.

"But… Lithuania, you weren't invited to this conference. How did you know you would be coming?" England asked, suspiciously.

Poland on his segway wheeled in. "What are you implying, England?"

"Nothing, it's just very suspicious, that's all."

"We're to suspect everyone!" America told the Pole in what he thought was a wise voice or that he knew what was happening.

"I invited Toris, do you have a problem with that, Mr England?" Russia said, standing up to his full 6 feet plus height and looming over England.

"No, not at all," England said, suddenly finding that his tie was too tight.

"I didn't invite him though," Russia pointed at Poland with distaste.

"Is it because you wouldn't be able to rock this outfit?" Poland asked, making the segway twirl.

England shook the image of Russia in a skirt and platform boots out of his head and was about to ask if he could have a go on the segway, when America took the words out of his mouth.

"Can I have a go on that?"

Poland sneered at him and took off back into the music room.

As soon as he got back in he was met with more diatribe from the other Nations.

"Woah there! Someone get me a cup of tea!" he shouted. "You!" he pointed at Feliciano. "Get me a cup of tea. In a bone china cup please, I'm feeling, like, posh. And you," here he pointed at Romano, "Get me some biscuits," he looked at the rest of them and began filing his nails, "Continue…"

In the kitchen…

"So your kidnappers, Alfred? Any idea?" England asked.

"Idea? Well there were at least 20 of them. All built like The Rock!"

"They were rocks?" Russia looked confused.

"Really?" England looked sceptical.

"Yeah and I fought them like a hero!" America did a quick 'hero' pose.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Well…"

"I think, Mr Amerika, you should tell the truth," Lithuania said quietly. He was looking at America with some confusion. "You look different than you did earlier. Where's your glasses?"

"I lost them hours ago!"

"But you found them again!" England pointed out.

"No I didn't!" America looked at them. "Dude Artie. You need to keep up! Anyway there were at least…" he stopped. "Okay okay… there were a dozen…" he stopped again when England raised a bushy eyebrow. "Okay there were two maybe three of them. One was built like a… okay okay… one was really short."

"Short?" England stared at him.

"They were all in masks. One was tall like me…"

Russia snorted and loomed over America.

"Okay as tall as me, but not as tall as Dude Russia here…"

"But you said it was Russia earlier who…"

"No I didn't!"

England's head swam. What on earth was going on? "Okay forget that…" he said quickly as Russia snarled.

"They were all in fancy dress. One was as tall as me, one was short and one was tiny… The tiny one bit me!" America sat down and rolled up his trouser leg and showed England a clear bite-mark.

"Hmmm…" England frowned, thinking hard. "I suspected this…"

"Wut?"

"A biting, kidnapping, maniac?" Lithuania asked.

"Here, I'll put an elastoplast on that," England said. "Hamish?" he shouted. "Hamish? Where is your first aid kit?"

A roll of grubby bandages hit England on the head.

"Oh."

America jumped up, "I got some band-aids in my bag!" he told them.

"Wait there! I want you to show me where this so-called trapdoor is in the garden."

"Oh okay… but I'm kinda bleeding here, man!"

"No, you're not!" England said. "I've had worse bites from…"

"Him…" Russia said and pointed at 'Wee Bertie' who was glaring at them.

But America had already skidded back out and was bounding up the stairs two at a time. "I'll be right back!" he yelled. And then there was silence.

"Damn and bloody blast!" England said and hurried after the American - in a much slower fashion. "I wish he wouldn't just bugger off like that…" he came to the second floor and walked along the corridor.

It was eerily quiet. He could faintly hear the Italies telling Poland a very roundabout version of events. He spun round as he felt eyes watching him and swore the eyes on the painting entitled 'Mad Arnold and his goat' moved.

Finally, he called out, "Alfred!"

"What?"

He spun round to find America stood behind him.

"What in King Alfred's name are you bloody messing about for?"

"What do you mean? I came up here to…"

"Did you get your damned plaster? I thought for a minute you'd been kidnapped again!"

"You need to calm down, Dad."

"I'm not your bloody father… And you look different…"

"My curl is back, Dad, I mean er Artie dude man."

England frowned. "You found your bloody glasses! What in Nelson's name are you messing about at? One minute they're on and the next, they're not!"

America practically ran down the stairs, "Don't worry Dad," he said in a completely offhand manner, England thought and then shouted behind him as if to someone else. "The Eagle has landed!"

"What the hell…?" England muttered. But there was a 'flump' and a bang in one of the rooms behind England as if something or someone had fallen over.

"Just a minute, chap…" England said and turned round. "I really hope that's not another Nation…It sounds like it's coming from your room, Alfred…"

America ran back up the stairs and pulled him, "Come on! There's nobody up here, only you and me and … some ghosties."

England shook his head, listening hard, "Flying mint bunny says there's something wrong and besides…"

"God, Arthur! You kill me, you really do! You heard nothing…" There was a frantic look in America's eyes.

England looked him up and down. "What's wrong with you? You look odd…" A flash of inspiration hit the Englishman like a thunderbolt or something really flashy, "Show me your leg!" he said quickly.

"My er leg…?" America looked sweaty and panicky.

England never really saw America panic unless he'd run out of food. Realisation began to dawn on him. "Oh my God! I know what's going on!"

"No… no you don't!" America almost screamed at him and then took some deep breaths, "It's your imagination. It's Russia… I told you… he's the culprit…" But America was looking behind the Englishman as he was talking. "Don't do it!" he suddenly yelled.

England felt a breeze pass over his head and he turned quickly. The portrait behind him shook on its hook as if a gust of wind had threatened to blow it off. 'Mad Arnold MacGregor of the MacGregor Clan and his favourite goat' England read, but it was the wood panelling that caught England's eye. It was tilted. He tapped it. "It's hollow!" he declared.

"No!" America yelled.

But the panelling suddenly swung inwards and a gloved hand reached out and grabbed the Englishman.

"Well, toast my crumpet…" England said and disappeared into the panelling, which snapped shut behind him.

One would have thought America would have done something heroic and saved his friend, but he didn't. He made sure his curl was curled, straightened his glasses and took off down the stairs, shaking a little. "Oh God… I told them… I wish I hadn't been talked into this," he muttered to himself.

Being a minion to an evil overlord was exhausting, he thought...

To be continued...