The final part is finally here! Finally!

I'm going to head to upstate New York for the last week of March and the first week of April, so I'll probably use that time to focus on writing and completing this book. Until then, I'm going to try and focus on some personal projects as well as my job, so don't expect anything for a few weeks. I might surprise myself and write a one shot on the fly, but we'll just have to see.

This is it (I mean it this time). No more going back and rereading this until I'm dissatisfied and have to revise again; this is the final version of Chapter 10 and I'm going to let it go. DON'T FORGET! I'm going to post a poll on my profile about this six part chapter, and I'd really, really like it if you lovely readers would answer it. It's more for my own reference, I suppose; to see which part of the chapter was the most popular, least popular, and any other things like that. It's a MULPTIPLE CHOICE poll, so don't be afraid to pick more than one answer.

Alright, enough waiting. I'll see you at the bottom of the page.


Chapter 10: Being Tormented; Part 6

.

.

.

.

.

?

Heaviness.

A dull thrumming—voices?

Voices.

So quiet.

Can't move.

Breathing slow, painful.

Pain everywhere.

Cold.

The dull thrumming cleared slowly. Voices became more distinct; usually men, but occasionally a woman. At a snail's pace, I could make out words.

"…almost…"

"…alive?"

"Yes."

"…troublesome…"

"…agree…"

Finally, the first full sentence: "In a few moments, we can finally begin."

A part of me knew that it would spell big trouble if they knew I was awake, but I was getting uncomfortable.

I tried to curl my fingers, but nothing happened. Bending my knees proved just as futile. My lungs hurt too much to huff in frustration, but I furrowed my brow.

"Oh?" The woman's voice hummed.

I was suddenly very aware of many eyes on my person. I knew it was inevitable, but I didn't want to deal with this. I didn't want to deal with anything.

Someone began to brush my forehead in light circles. I instinctively leaned toward the touch, sensing its intention; coaxing, trying to convince me to wake up.

"Come now," the woman's voice soothed. I felt uncomfortable and conflicted, wanting to both run away from that voice and be enveloped by it.

I made a sound; something resembling a very deep creaking sound. My eyes fluttered. "Poor dear," the voice cooed. "Won't you wake up for me?"

The room was golden and bright, too bright. Everything was a blur, with no distinct shapes making themselves visible. I was lying on my back, on something very hard; harder than the floor in the cell. The air was frigid, and I felt vulnerable.

I was staring up at the ceiling, at nothing… no, there was something at the top of my vision, and it leaned closer in. Blurrily, I could make out a pale, smooth face, framed by long, silver hair, and a pair of purple eyes.

Materna smiled at me. "You have beautiful eyes, my dear."

I blinked languidly, then lowered my eyes and turned my head away.

She took a gentle but firm hold of my chin and made me face her again. "You wouldn't want to fall asleep yet, would you? Our guest is almost here."

I stared at her, not understanding her words. Who was the guest? Was I the guest?

There was a distant *bang* of a door being slammed open, followed by sounds of pained struggle. "Just in time." Materna backed out of my vision, but didn't go far.

The others—the second players, I realized—were close by as well.

The muffled protests grew closer and louder, ending with an unceremonious *thump* and a grunt of pain. My brow furrowed again. That grunt… it sounded wrong, but familiar.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Materna said sweetly.

"Who are you?!" A new voice snapped angrily.

That voice…!

They took in a breath as if to continue, but there was another thumping sound and they groaned.

"Paga i tuoi rispetti, mingherlino," another voice, one I recognized as Veneziano's, snarled.

"Now, now," Materna said coolly, "don't rough him up too much, yet. We still need his cooperation."

"I will never cooperate with you!"

"Kick him."

There was a slight cracking sound, and the person cried out.

I know that voice…

The person hissed in pain, and there was a squeaky, scraping sound of someone being dragged to their feet.

"Now then," Materna stepped a little further away from me and towards the person. "Let us get straight to business, hm?" Labored breathing was the response. "Yes, yes we shall. Where is it?"

"W…what?"

"Where. Is. It?"

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

There was a pause. "The journal," Materna said. "Where is the journal?"

"W-what do you want with it?"

"I need it to repair the damage you caused me. The death of my son will be reversed."

"Your son? I don't even know who you are!"

"I suppose you may as well know. I am Materna, the mother of the Onis."

"…They have a mother?" There was a slap, followed by a grunt.

"My patience grows thin. Tell me where the journal is."

"I'm not afraid to die!"

"You are not, perhaps. But what of another?"

"I don't understand—"

"Feli…?" I rasped.

I felt all of the eyes in the room fall on me, even if I couldn't look away from the ceiling

"Well," Materna said after a beat, "it was supposed to be a big reveal, but… surprise!"

"…Author…?!" Feliciano gasped.

"Feli…" I called again, a little more loudly. My voice was so raspy it sounded inhuman, like my voice box was now a rattlesnake's rattle.

"Author!"

"Let him go to her," Materna ordered.

Stumbling steps grew closer until Feli practically fell into the side of my vision. I got the sense I was lying on a table of some sort, with Feli kneeling next to me. His shaking hands hovered over me, as if he didn't know what to do. "Mio Dio… bella, what have they done to you?"

I slowly met his eyes. They were the same salted caramel brown color I remembered, but they were filled with such an intense fear…

Unsure of what to say, I tried to make a noise of comfort, but ended up sounding like a toad on its last legs.

"That's enough," Materna said.

It wasn't nearly enough, but Feli was pulled, kicking and yelling, from my side.

Materna replaced him, though she wasn't facing me. "Now you know what is at stake. Surrender the journal to me, and I will not harm her further."

"…You said this was to reverse your son's death," Feli said slowly. "You don't mean… Steve?"

Someone snorted, but quickly shut up.

"…That name…" Materna sighed irritably. "That was a means to an end. The Cult of 'Steve' needed a name for humanity's replacement, and my son's real name doesn't translate well. 'Steve' was the name given to my son by the 'fans' of your 'game', so I went with that for simplicity's sake."

"…Oh," Feli said.

"The Cult of Steve itself was also a means to an end," Materna continued. "They thought they were summoning 'Steve', but in truth, they never had the ability to do so. It was simply a diversion I planted in their minds to fulfill my end of a bargain."

There was another pause. "You all…" Feli said in disbelief. "Your leaders! You—"

"There is a way to bring him back to life, though. Through the journal, through the presence of the one who last made a deal with him… and with a mother's love~."

"…Uh-huh," Feli replied.

"You doubt my mothering?"

"I doubt your reasons for doing this. We had a deal—"

"—And it was broken the moment you accepted outside help. You were to escape with all of your friends on your own."

"We didn't get a choice!"

"You had the chance to go back before the mansion was destroyed. By accepting the Cult of Veneziano's help in destroying it, you broke the deal. You must pay."

"Do you seriously think I'd put my friends in danger again for the sake of some stupid rules?!"

"People think they can get away with anything, but the moment it comes back to bite them... No matter. The journal. Now."

"No!"

"If you do not reveal the location of the journal right now," Materna's hand hovered over me, "there will be consequences."

I felt where her hand was more than I could see it. The curls on my head twitched painfully, and I made a pathetic keening sound as I trembled.

Feli seemed to realize what she was implying. "Don't—don't you dare—"

"You have three of your human seconds."

"I…" I could feel Feli's eyes on me. "…I—"

"Time's up." She grabbed the curl at the top of my head and yanked.

I screamed, as if a knife were stabbing my brain. My eyes burned, and it felt like hot glue was dripping down my face like mucus.

Feli was protesting, but I could barely hear him over the sound of my pain. She was pulling so hard that she was lifting my head off of the table.

Despite the pain, I never fell back into unconsciousness. I felt pain stack upon pain, growing hotter and hotter until it became white and blinding and searing and screaming and—

"MY BEDROOM!" Feli's voice screamed. "Under the seventeenth floorboard from the left and third board from the top when facing away from the bed! PLEASE, STOP!"

My head smacked against the table. "Search there. Now."

Footsteps hurried away and Feli was at my side again as I sobbed. After a second of hesitation, Feli took my hand and patted it. "Mi dispiace, bella," he murmured in my ear.

"Fe-eli," I whimpered. "H-hurts…"

"I know, bella, I know. Ssh…"

Time passed, too much and not enough. More sticky, gooey tears bubbled out of my tear ducts. My curls were jerking all the worse; as if they were trying to pull themselves off of my head to run away to some dark corner of the world.

Faintly, I heard many footsteps grow closer. "Right where he said it was, madame," England's voice said.

There was an excited gasp, followed by the whispered words, "My darling, you're almost home…!"

Feli turned to glare at the group, still holding my hand. "You got what you wanted," he growled. "Now let her go."

"No." Materna snapped her fingers and Feli was dragged away.

"Author!"

"Feli…" I whined.

"You said you would let her go!"

"I didn't, actually," Materna replied coolly. "I said I would not harm her further, and I won't. What happens to her next is not up to me, but to my son."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Once my son is resurrected, he will get what he deserves most: the prize he lost." There were sounds of struggling, but Feli clearly wasn't getting anywhere. Materna ignored him. "And then, it occurred to me; wouldn't it be such a treat for him if he got to devour the one who killed him as well?"

"What…?" Something clicked for us both. "You mean she…"

"Correct. Of course…" Materna appeared in my view, and I couldn't look away. She seemed… contemplative. "That son in particular was always a bit… different. He may kill her… or he may leave her alive. And if the latter is the case…" She met my eyes, and I made a shuddering noise as she traced a long fingernail along the center of my neck and under my chin. "…I may just keep her for myself."

"Sei disgustoso!" Feli spat.

Materna's fingernail dug into my chin before she finally let go.

"I'll be preparing the spell," she announced. "No mortal injuries or irreversible damage; I want him nice and whole for my son. Other than that," she turned away, opening the journal. "…Have at it, gentlemen."

Chaos erupted.

Solid punches and kicks connected with bone, followed by shouts of pain and yells of thrill that grew louder and louder as she read through the book, almost clinically.

Still unable to move, I looked up at her in despair. "Why…?"

Of all questions, I'm not sure why that was the one I asked. Why what? Why anything?

She was quiet for a moment… then turned her full attention to me. "Killing that son in particular has marked you with a special suffering," she explained. "Right now, you are free. Soon… well. We'll just have to see, won't we?" She patted my cheek and stepped back. "Put him on the other alter," she ordered.

Feli didn't do much more than groan as he was dragged off to my left, the sound of clinking metal suggesting he'd been chained down. "Feli…!" I began to struggle.

Materna tapped me lightly on the nose. "Now, now; we can't have that, my dear. Why don't you take a nice rest?" She sneered. "You deserve it."

She began to whisper that familiar, horrible, haunting whisper. They were saccharine, taking control under the guise of empty promises. Mother knows best. She knows best.

My eyes closed as the darkness consumed me.


It occurs to me that I never explained in the earlier published versions of this chapter what the meaning of Feli's hiding place for the journal was. According to the Hetalia wiki, Feliciano's birthday is March 17, and I figured that Feli would want to keep something that important somewhere where he could reach it; in his bedroom. The floorboard that hid the journal wasn't particularly hard to remove, but it's still a super specific place that people might not notice. Why did Feli feel the need to hide the journal, even though the dangers of the mansion were supposedly over? I suppose he thought about it, but a feeling told him that it would be better to hold onto it. Whether that feeling was good or bad, well... decide for yourselves.

Okay, remember: poll. Profile. Multiple choice. Answer. Do it.

Alright, time to put chapter 10 behind me! I've been so focused on this dark chapter for so long, it's like I can't remember how to write happier things, but I'll get better! Just you wait! I'll see you all soon, I hope! Until then!