The smell of blood on Norway's clothes did not go unnoticed.

"Norge?" Sweden murmured, staring at the bloodstains and he knelt down immediately. "What happened?" Norway didn't talk, but opened his mouth and shut his eyes, but he just trembled all over and shook his head, holding his hand up as if telling Sweden he needs time.

"Is it about that… thing?" Sweden asked cautiously, turning back just to make sure they're safe before turning back to the Norwegian. Norway gulped silently and nodded. "Want me to get ya some water to drink?"

Finally, Norway spoke with a croak. "N-no… not on your own. Let me come with you…" But when he stood up he fell to the side against the wall from shaking so much.

"Stay behind that curtain," Sweden ordered quietly. "I'll be back with the others. They must be hiding somewhere."

Turning around as he gripped the red velvet curtain, facing away in what seemed like shame of being incapable of walking a few simple paces without quivering, he mumbled, "Be safe…" before closing the curtain.

So now Sweden is puzzled. One confusing thought after another and he couldn't help but feel a sense of fear from just walking around in the corridor on the second floor. Even his steps seemed sluggish despite promising that he'll find the rest of the Nordics as quickly as possible. Something seems to be dragging him with invisible talons of powerful hopelessness and inevitability…

And then… something came up that unsettled his stomach severely. A strong stench of rusty blood wafted from somewhere, but the Swede couldn't quite place where it's coming from. All he's hoping is that the smell of blood isn't coming from one of his brothers or all.

The rest of the doors on the second floor were all locked, which isn't very reassuring since very few doors were left unlocked in the house in the first place. So he reluctantly decided to go upstairs…

But there was nothing. All there was were two doors in view when he got onto the third floor, but when he turned around the corner he saw a puddle of blood and a few bullet cartridges scattered around.

Sweden paled. Those cartridges came from Finland's rifle.

Upon this realisation, Sweden's mind is on high alert and adrenaline raced through his body. Finland would never shoot unless he's in genuine danger, and the space of the third floor isn't appropriately big enough for a sniper to shoot around in at close range. To confirm the Swede's fear and suspicion, in the narrow gap between the other set of stairs and a simple wall, there were holes in the wall where his bullets ended up at. Sweden pulled them out, surprised that they were cold and clean. If they were hot, they'd be recently fired, and if they're clean, then they didn't hit their target.

'This is dangerous. Finland has NEVER missed his target before, even in close range,' he thought and gulped silently, rolling the two bullets in his large palm before pocketing them.

Then… the blood on the floor could only belong to him. It wasn't a large puddle, but with the amount of blood lost here the injury has to be enough to knock someone unconscious from blood loss. As well as cartridges, there were three pieces of unused ammo that Finland probably dropped in a struggle. Sweden picked them up and pocketed them too.

"I have to find Fin…" Sweden muttered and checked the other doors which are (unsurprisingly) locked and he advanced upstairs. The fourth floor corridor is just as narrow as the third floor's, but there are two doors. The first one didn't open, but the second one leading to the attic did.

But before he entered, he noticed blood on the brass handle and his heart's pace quickened. His hand slowly reached under his long coat and his fingers wrapped around the handle of a staff that he keeps hidden, while his eyes were trained on the door. He pulled out a steel staff and extended it quietly until it's as tall as his height, and he quickly opened the attic door and stormed in, holding the staff in the air.

But he relaxed when he saw that nobody was inside the room and he loosened his grip on the weapon.

It didn't make sense. There was blood on the handle outside. Someone must've gone inside this room at some point… Sweden looked at the handle again from the inside of the door, but it was squeaky clean and shiny, devoid of any stains or blood. Someone is still in this room.

And then his eyes turned and landed at the corner where there is a door frame with a long curtain concealing the entrance instead of a door. There. Even with his eyesight he could clearly see bloody fingerprints. He walked over carefully, whispering. "Finland?"

Immediately, the curtain was pulled aside and Finland charged forward, hugging Sweden tightly. His rifle dropped to the floor with a clatter, but he didn't care as long as his arms were around Sweden and not an attacker's neck from behind.

"RUOTSI!" he whimpered loudly and buried his face in his chest. "I was so scared…! You have NO IDEA what I went through!"

Sweden awkwardly hugged him back, not ever expecting Finland to make contact like that with him. "I found Norge. He's hiding."

Finland huffed shakily and broke the hug. "G-good! Where's Islanti and Tanska!?"

"I dunno… I only found you an' Norge so far…"

"I don't like this place one bit!" Finland squeaked and shivered all over and he hugged himself but then he murmured "oh" as he lifted his bloody hand from a wound to his side above his left hip. Sweden didn't notice until now how pale Finland looked. The wound seemed pretty deep.

"Finland, yer wound…" he reached forward, but the Finn winced and stepped back. "N-no! I'll be fine… I just need to get out of here…"

"The front door is locked. I tried to open it, but it's locked." At that, the smaller male moaned and doubled over, collapsing into Sweden's arms.

"Finland!" Sweden's eyes widened and he held his face with one hand, blood running cold. "Stay with me! Finland!" But Finland closed his eyes, looking faded before he could say anything and he went limp. His pulse was still going, but only slowly. He's unconscious.

In a part of the house unknown to Sweden or any of the other Nordics, Iceland quietly roamed around a library, looking through the shelves at many volumes of books, which of each are in different languages. Some of these languages are extinct and therefore unfamiliar to the teen at all, but a majority of these volumes are recognisable as modern languages… but those don't matter, because he seemed to be looking for a specific novel.

And he found it with his thin fingers as they trace the leather binder of a simple, thick, black book. He tugged it out of its space and opened it, looking through the yellowed pages that smell of age and years of confinement combined with neglect. The pages were all blank, except for the first page.

"Found it… this should be the last time if I get it all right according to plan…" Iceland muttered and he picked out a pen from his pocket before flipping the lid off and writing 'Emil Bondevik' at the bottom right corner of the page. The words began to shimmer brightly before the ink disappeared into the page out of sight.

"There… this time, I'll save everyone…"

It was all a blur for Finland. He remembered only fragments of his encounter with the thing and then running away upstairs to the attic, and he remembered diving behind that velvet curtain and curled against the wall, aiming his rifle at the curtain... and he remembered that part when Sweden came for him and he dropped his guard straight away, but he eventually blacked out from the wound on his side…

'How did I get this wound again? I could've sworn my right arm was ripped off… wait… why did I think that…? And Ruotsi… I thought he got blinded completely, but he can still obviously see me…'

Thoughts conflicted in Finland's puzzled blacked mind. Inconsistent memories were melting together, creating and swirling dreams of memories that apparently happened, but there are no physical scars to prove it. It's terrifying him. He wants to wake up, but wake up at home in the comfort of his soft warm bed and Hanatamago sleeping by his side like always, not in an unfamiliar mansion.

Barely conscious now, he can feel his body bouncing and rocking as though someone was carrying him, but he couldn't open his eyes long enough to confirm it. The scent of his carrier was recognisable though, similar to pine, and subconsciously relaxed, knowing that Sweden is nearby.

Iceland was still in the unfamiliar library, writing down in a black diary quietly while hiding in a small gap between the wall and a random bookcase. He seemed relaxed until he heard a loud thump somewhere and he almost had a heart attack and was close to dropping his pen, but he held on and put the objects in his pocket.

He focused intensely on the sound of heavy footsteps until he got a headache, but he sighed quietly when the door to the library slammed shut. But the headache was still there. Pain grew with slight intensity and he moaned, rubbing his forehead.

"Someone just remembered a past time-loop memory… that isn't good… it's too soon… I gotta find that key immediately…"

Sweden, while he carried Finland, didn't stop for anyone or anything. His determination suppressed all worries of encountering those Things because he'll be damned if he has to slow down to fight when he's got an injured loved one who could be possibly dying. He immediately ran to the second floor to the room where Norway is and charged inside. Relieved that none of those monsters are around, he pulled the curtain aside but sees only a dark space. His heart sank.

"Norge?" he called out and his voice echoed. He reacted with surprise, as he thought the space behind the curtain was very small. It sounded like there's a corridor in there.

"I'm here." Footsteps from the dark hollow space grew louder as Norway appeared from the darkness, covered in dust. His eyes fell on Finland's bloody form and he reeled back, trying not to throw up.

"He's still alive, but only just. W…we have to get out of here…" Sweden's voice cracked and he shook all over, staring at Finland's pained expression. Norway tugged at his sleeve.

"Come on, I found somewhere safe for us to rest in."

"Sa—"

"Trust me. Hurry…" Norway turned and ran up what sounded like stairs, but stopped and spoke again from the darkness. "See that lever besides the door? Just push it down and the gate will close it."

In no time, Sweden forced the stick down and an iron door slid down from a gap in the door frame, plunging the corridor into total darkness.

CHAPTER END.