Author's Note: Wow, this match is actually long. I figured when was the last time we heard from Germany, Prussia, Austria, or Hungary? Oh that's right, little or not at alll. So, here we are with them. Austria gets a past life in this match. When I will visit Prussia's? I don't know yet. You will have to stick around and see for that. I think we should go back to Ju and her clan really soon. Maybe like next week. (Hint-hint.)

Match Twenty: Wild Hunt:

Gilbert went to a psychic he encountered long ago in the woods. He doesn't believe in this sort of thing. But, Ludwig still wasn't waking up. It had been five weeks in the hospital, but nothing could bring him out of his coma. Doctors were stumped and suggested taking him off of life support.

"No," Gilbert said.

"Sir, he shows no signs of recovery. At this rate, he will be dead within a month. Is he an organ donor?" the doctor asked. Gilbert resisted the urge to choke out the doctor.

"He will come back from this," he said. "I will find a way!" The Prussian man turned and walked out of the hospital.

And now, here he was.

Gilbert raised his hand to knock on the door.

"Enter," an old woman's voice croaked. Gilbert about jumped. She was still as sharp as ever. He pushed open the door and walked into the small wooded hut. Inside was dark.

"Hello?" he asked.

"I'm back here," the old woman said. Gilbert made his way down the narrow hall. He tried to ignore the buzzing mosquitoes around his head. He should be used to the smell of the swamp by now. The man still covered his nose and kept walking. Gilbert approached a thin black plastic curtain. A shadowy figure sat on a chair made of wood.

"Come in," she said. Gilbert pushed back the curtain and went inside. The smell of swap mixed in with the smell of smoke. A pair of glowing eyes stared through the darkness.

"Welcome Gilbert," she said. "Come in, take a seat." Gilbert opened his mouth.

"Take a seat," the old woman said again. The Prussian man closed his mouth and sat down.

"Very good," she said. "Have some tea. Do not argue. You need to have something to drink to clear your thoughts. Have the tea first and then we'll talk." Gilbert lowered his eyes.

"Fine," he said. The old woman turned off her boiling kettle and poured the water into the cup. The water turned light green from the tea bag. Gilbert shifted into place.

"Shhh," the old woman said. "We will talk after you drink." The Prussian man finally sat still. The birds outside did little to calm him down.

"This tea takes about ten minutes to brew, you know?" the old woman said. Gilbert pressed his lips together. The psychic lowered her eyes in the candlelight.

"Things are getting crazier," she said in a low voice. Gilbert lifted his head. The old woman in the dark had her eyes on him.

"Your brother has fallen victim to it already," she said. The Prussian man looked down at his hands.

"It's not just him," she said. "The entire world is going to be swallowed up into darkness." Her large crow on the wooden chair pecked at the bark. This bird has always been quiet. Part of Gilbert wondered if that was a real bird.

"Yes," the old woman said. "This is just a normal bird. He just doesn't make too many noises." Gilbert frowned.

"Could you stop doing that?" he asked.

"My apologies," she said. Gilbert rolled his eyes. The old woman pulled out a small pitcher of milk and poured it into his cup.

"Thank you," the Prussian man said. The old woman took out the bag and handed him his cup.

"Thank you," he said again. Gilbert took a sip of the bitter tea. He winced at the taste.

"You've come to find a way to get your brother back," the old woman spoke up. "He's trapped by an angry spirit from his past."

"What do you mean?" Gilbert asked. "Who?"

"There is a woman named Lydia Harel."

The Prussian man shook his head. "I don't know anyone by that name."

"Of course you don't," she said. "She's not from this life."

"What are you talking about?"

"Past lives."

Gilbert's eyes grew wide as he struggled to say something but ended up sitting back with the color drained from his face. The old woman put down her cup.

"Your brother has wronged this woman and she wants revenge," she said.

"So how do we break it?" Gilbert asked.

"Take me to the hospital," she said. "I want to see him for myself. There is still some time to get him back. But, I have to act fast." Gilbert's hopes started to raise in his head and chest.

"Okay," the Prussian man said. "How much should I pay?" He reached into his bag and pulled out his wallet. The psychic looked him in the eye.

"Don't," she said.

"But…" he said. Gilbert already had his money in his hand. The old woman shook her head.

"I don't want your money," she said. "You know I will never take it."

"Alright," Gilbert said, rather reluctant. He watched as the old woman stood up and walked past him.

"Wait! I'm coming too!" the Prussian man shouted. He jumped and followed behind the old psychic.

-Roderich-

Roderich was being haunted by visions of the past too.

This morning, he was playing his piano like he normally did. His head got lost into the music. Such a beautiful sound. He could go on playing this forever.

But then, Roderich paused when he heard a gun shot. The Austrian man froze. Roderich opened his eyes and looked down. Blood covered the piano keys. The world turned black.

Roderich shivered. This has been going on for eight weeks now. The same visions played on a loop in his head. It about scared him away from the piano. Roderich drew back his hands.

"Roderich, what's the matter?" Elizabeta asked. Her boyfriend turned his head.

"I don't feel so good," he said. Roderich stood up and walked past her to their room.

"Roderich?" Elizabeta asked. The door closed behind him.

Roderich lay on his side. Blood on the keys and the gun shot weren't the only things haunting him. His mind began to see things from the 1880's.

-1881-

No one understood his genius. He locked himself in his home day-in and day-out. This symphony had to be perfect. How could he top his ninth symphony? Before that, his music was never publicly known. This man had loved music since he was a child. Or rather, he was forced to love music by his father.

Abuse, perfection, drinking, and isolation started to take their toll on the man. The voices in his head mocked him.

You are a failure.

You will never live up to your grandfather's name!

You will be just like just failure of a father!

It was true about his father. Alcohol was his father only true friend. He only cared about music and drinking. When his temper wasn't aimed at his wife, it was aimed at their only son. Remembering his father's rages made the man break down laughing.

Empty bottles scattered all over the floor. His star was dying. No one had any interest in him anymore. The man could hear his angry voice of disapproval. He sat down at his piano with the idea for the perfect tenth symphony.

This would play out in the middle of December in 1887. He would be alone in the early hours out the morning. Everything was set up.

His body wouldn't be found until a month later.

-Present Day-

Roderich's stomach turned. So that's what I was in the past, was it? A strong sense of dread began to choke him up. Another thought crossed his mind.

"What if we are doomed to repeat how we died in the past?" he asked in a whisper. Roderich clutched the pillow underneath his head as he trembled.

-Elizabeta-

The visions started to come to her too.

Last night, she was shopping for dinner in the local twenty-hour grocery store. There weren't that many around at the time. Elizabeta seemed to have the whole place to herself.

But, she had the feeling of being watch.

She turned her head from the meat section. Nobody was in sight. Elizabeta had a knife hidden under her jacket. She pushed her cart along as she kept her eyes open.

This wasn't the first time either. Antonio gave her a warning about this three weeks ago.

"The veil between the living and the dead is getting thinner," he said. "Do not pay any attention to them. You will feed them, they will get stronger." Elizabeta picked up a pack of beef and inspected it. She smiled when it met her satisfaction. After grabbing a second, she moved onto the chicken. Once she got her meat, Elizabeta looked at her list.

"Let's see," she said. "I already have the broth at home. I just need carrot, potatoes, onions, chills, garlic, and pepper." Simple little tasks, right? Elizabeta turned the cart around and headed to the vegetable section. She froze when she heard footsteps running behind her. The Hungarian turned to see nobody. Her eyes shifted to her right.

"You will not get me," she whispered. Elizabeta looked through the vegetable section with sharp eyes. Earlier in the day, she kept hearing the laughter of children in the kitchen. Usually, Elizabeta would think that she was hearing things. But Antonio's words told her otherwise.

She took one look behind her. Nobody in sight. Elizabeta reached for her knife and held her breath. I can't stall around here anymore. Just get the vegetables and spices and get out. She took a quick look at each vegetable before putting them in her cart. So far, so good.

But then came the spice section.

Elizabeta was looking through the garlic when she heard the giggling again. To her ears, it sounded like a little child. This time, the Hungarian woman forced herself not to look up. I do not hear you. You will not get me.

Her hand reached for two bottles of garlic. The only thing left was the salt. Elizabeta tilted her head at the different kinds on the shelf before her.

"When did we get all of these types of salts?" she asked herself. Elizabeta looked through each other with her hand in front of her. Footsteps echoed behind her. She would've ignored it if a pair of small hands hadn't pushed her right into the salt. Elizabeta screamed as she tried to maintain her balance.

"Whoa!" she shouted. She went down face first into the salt. Glass and salt hit the floor. One of the janitors ran over when he heard the sound.

"Who did that?!" Elizabeta shouted. When she looked around, there was no one else in sight by the janitor at the end of the aisle.

"Are you okay, miss?" he asked. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No…" the Hungarian woman said.

"What happened to you?" the janitor asked. Elizabeta slowly shook her head.

"I don't know," she said. "It felt like something pushed me. I'm so sorry for the mess."

"It's okay," the janitor said. "Just as long as you are not hurt." Elizabeta jumped to her feet, grabbed three bottles of unbroken salt, and made her way over to the cart. The rest of the shopping trip went on without incident. Elizabeta tried to pay for the salt bottles that she broke.

"It's okay," the clerk said.

"Are you sure?" Elizabeta asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, ma'am," the clerk said. "We'll take it from here."

"Okay…" the Hungarian woman said with unease. She handed the man her money and he gave her back her change. Even out of the grocery store, Elizabeta couldn't let down her guard. The drive home put her on high alert. She still couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched in the car. The whole drive home made her feel the most uncomfortable that she had felt in years. She didn't stop moving once she parked in the driveway. Elizabeta ran into the house and locked the door behind her.

Once she got inside, she finally broke down sobbing.

-Ludwig and Lydia-

Lydia Harel was about to go in for the next action when she froze. The ghost turned her head.

"What goes there?" she asked in Yiddish.