The beautiful dawn crept over the land as a young, but not too young woman awoke with a mumbled curse at her alarm clock. Slowly she crept to the kitchen, rubbing her eyes until the coffee miraculously made itself. Now how did that happen? Who cares, auto-making coffee!
As she shuffled with mug in hand a flash of bright fur caught her eye. There was a mysterious creature on the porch, warm and fuzzy in the morning sun. Sliding open the door and screen she gasped with joy as the cutest creature on earth blinked up at her with heart-melting button eyes that glistened in the golden light shining off of thousands of butterfly wings.
"What are you, little friend?"
The adorable ball of pink fluff looked up at her, long ears swivelling. Then on downy little angels wings it rose into the air with a voice like kittens fur.
"Tehe! I'm flying plot bunny! And I've come to help you!"
"Wha- oh thank you flying plot bunny!"
Grabbing the soft and downy creature from the air the girl cuddled it lovingly, smoothing the soft fluff.
"Oh...so cute~"
The thought occurred that she should close the screen, it was a bit chilly.
"Let's just close this up and get...to..."
On the porch stood a very, very tall man with pale blond hair and sparkling violet eyes.
"There you are!" Ivan giggled.
She took off, but didn't get far.
"FLYING PLOT BUNNY YOU TRAITOROUS BASTARD!" The woman screamed as she was dragged helplessly away.
Flying plot bunny wiggled it's nose and scratched it's ear, not really giving a shit.
Taxi from hell. Taxi from hell, or to hell?
Alfred wasn't sure about anything other than being sure he was never, EVER getting into a car with Ivan again. Judging from the sickened looks on others faces he figured he wasn't alone in this. They'd at least managed to arrive at this cabin in the woods with the same number of people they left with so the trip was at least successful in that no one died en route to...
wait.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Ivan skipped the normal formalities ( as they were short on time ) and went immediately to chasing Alfred with a lead pipe he reserved for water emergencies ( though it hadn't worked right since he'd pulled it out of the ground – he figured he should have that checked out.)
This lasted until Matthew and his puppy eyes arrived on scene to put an end to it. With his brother now between him and their massive guide he finally calmed down enough to explain what had been so terrifying in the first place.
To Alfred it was obvious. It was as obvious as the stripe on a skunk or Ivan's nose. Alfred mistakenly said this last part out loud and the chasing resumed again.
"Come on guys – a cabin in the woods?" Alfred continued, blue eyes wide in comic astonishment.
The group stared. Gilbert shrugged, glared at Feliks, shrugged again when Matthew caught him. Ivan scratched his head in confusion, looked at Matthew who looked back at him ( which caused Feliks and Gilbert to lock into another staring contest).
"None of you find this creepy? Look, a bunch of us dudes out here. At a cabin. In the woods. At night."
"Is there something creepy about this?" Ivan asked. Alfred figured on Ivan being clueless being raised in Siberia and all but even Mattie and that Albino dude? Really? How could they not know the obvious set-up of ages: the lost group of college age people in a remote location at night who stumble upon zombies/ werewolves / axe-murderers / hostile aliens / ghosts / whatever he was forgetting at that moment and meet a horribly gruesome and untimely end filled with screaming and gore and horrible catch-phrases!
Gilbert got it after all and laughed. "Well don't worry about that – don't those psycho guys normally go ofter the kids making out? As long as you're not locking lips with anyone you'll be fine!
For a moment Alfred looked scandalized but then the group froze. There was a sound on the wind...
hon hon hon..
But then it faded away into nothingness.
"Come on! What are we even doing out here?" Alfred continued, arms a'flailing. "Don't you know this is how people end up chopped into little bits or stabbed a thousand times and left to bleed in the woods or killed by zombie werewolves or -"
"Hold on! Zombie werewolves?!" Feliks jumped. "America has crazy stuff like that? Like, what the hell kind of place is this?!"
"Dude! Every place has zombie werewolves!"
"No way! Let's get out of here!"
"THERE ARE NO SUCH THINGS AS ZOMBIE WEREWOLVES!"
Matthew went unheard and the freakout continued.
"Alfred-" Ivan started.
"Stop it – and how dare you leave us for bait for zombie werewolves!"
Ivan stood in confusion. "Wait? How can I leave you for bait if I haven't left yet? And I don't think those things really exist."
Though right now he kind of wished they did. Zombie werewolf bait suited Alfred perfectly...
For a moment Alfred stopped running in circles with arms flailing to listen to his frenemy.
"Huh? Really? Why didn't someone say that then?"
Matthew sighed and hung his head. "I did..."
"Mattie! You're here too!?"
"ALFRED!"
Panicked screaming had turned to laughter as the two brothers ran in figure eights around the group that was steadily moving up the path; owing to Feliks and Gilbert following Ivan's lead.
"You know, it must be nice to be so young." Gilbert mumbled. The other two merely smiled.
And despite all odds they made it to the cabin in the woods. The group crowded onto the front step-huddling against the wind as much as they could without actually touching Ivan who simply opened the unlocked door and strode right in.
"Make yourselves at home, you can hang up your coats over there. I'll check to see how much firewood we have before we head out."
"Out." Alfred scowled. "Out where?"
"You'll see."
"No. You'll tell-"
"Alfred!" Matthew called, causing his brother to look toward him. "S'more?"
"HEEEEEEELLLLSSSSS YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
It was a heavenly miracle descended from on high to place itself by the roaring fire in the mantle. There was no question that this was the best moment of the whole night.
Feliks scratched his head. "Uh-huh. 'Cause that's totally healthy." He mumbled, fishing a box of pocky from his coat.
"Yep. What is he thinking?" Gilbert wondered over-dramatically loud once he caught sight of the bright pink box. "It's like all he ever does is eat candy! Ug. Give me a beer any day."
"It's five o'clock somewhere right?" Feliks retorted but in one quick movement, before Gilbert could even open his mouth the Pole was beside Matthew, helping him spear marshmallows for the fire.
"Ga-whatever!" Gilbert muttered before making for the kitchen. "Have fun with that American junk-food."
"But Gilbert, don't you want chocolate?"
"That stuff from Alfred's place? No way!"
"But it's not from Alfred's place." Matthew clarified with a suspicious level of innocence. It triggered something in Gilbert's brain- there was some mischief behind those big gentle eyes.
"I got it from Ludwig before we went to the bar."
Check and mate.
"I guess I'll have a little..."
Matthew smiled, knowingly. "That's great, can you get some plates from the kitchen?"
"Uh, sure...man you always got it planned out don't you?" Gilbert laughed, realizing that his friend was sneakier than a lot of people realized.
On his way to the fridge Gilbert looked over the cozy kitchen.
"Now where does Russia get the stuff for digs like this- kese kese kese! Sneaky devil!"
It was a little plaque by the kitchen window that gave it away; a plaque in blue and gold.
"So that's what's up...Hm..."
There was a bit of coffee still in the maker so Gilbert helped himself to it – after all Berthold wouldn't be back until Ivan cleared out and it would be nasty cold by then anyway. After grabbing his coffee and some plates he trekked back to the living room and put the most confused look he could on his face.
He didn't have to try that hard, Feliks was making charred snowmen out of marshmallows.
"PTSD much..." Gilbert muttered. It was almost as bad as those needlessly terrifying movie posters of his.
Alfred was in his own little world of smores and warmness by the fire listening to whatever his brother was talking about that he wasn't' paying attention to. Gilbert set down a stack of six plates. Matthew frowned as his bear attempted to become his hat, climbing restlessly onto his shoulders until he moved him away.
"That's one too many. There's only five of us."
"Oh, but aren't you forgetting about the crazy psycho killer – or the zombies? If we feed them smores maybe they'll forget their hunger for OUR FLESH!"
Alfred screamed like a girl. He denies it of course.
"Don't start him up again Gilbert!"
"Kesekesekese! Did you hear that Ivan?"
"Shut up! I was just surprised!"
"Aw, did you wet yourself? Maybe you should go check."
"That's it!"
The tousling match continued until the lights suddenly went out. This time someone screamed again but it didn't' sound like Alfred.
"Oh for – there's probably a flashlight in the kitchen. Could you get it Gilbert?" Matthew asked.
"Why me?"
The Canadian rolled his eyes. "Because chicken little is otherwise preoccupied." He grumbled, pointing to a quivering lump under the throw blanket.
"Man," Gilbert laughed, red eyes glimmering with the firelight. "How are you the fearless one of the family?"
"Alfred got one too many ghost stories from Arthur. It doesn't help that he saw his first ghost in England and Arthur ripped him a new one for being rude to it when it phased through him."
"Yeowch." Gilbert laughed. "Sorry I asked."
Making his way back to the now darkened kitchen the Prussian laughed.
"Man, I could scare the daylights out of him. It would be too easy – I could just-"
honhonhon.
Gilbert cocked his head. "Did I just hear..."
Meanwhile; Alfred continued to quake under the plush throw cover.
"N-no ghost will get the best of me! Alfred F. Jones will make sure of it...once it's not so dark..."
Authors Note:
Surprise Fanfiction!
