Mission Improbable (Part 1)

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In the dream, I was standing amongst the wreckage of a post-apocalyptic cityscape, the sky a fiery red and raining down meteorites. I looked down, partially relived and partially skeptical that I wasn't the small, helpless child I once was the last time I had a dream similar to this. Scanning the landscape, I tried with all my effort to find my bearings, maybe even a glint of recognition to help me figure out where on the earth I was. Off to the side, almost totally out of my sight, I spotted a cluster of bodies cornered together on the ground.

Walking to them as if the bodies had called out my name, I stopped dead at their feet, looking down in horror. There, before me, lay Arthur and Alfred. Next to them, Madeline and Matt clutched each other, a twisted and scared expression frozen onto their faces. And around the corner, I could just make out Gilbert and his alternative selves. Everyone didn't look quite dead, just suffering an eternal sleep, yet the bile still rose into my mouth the more I stared. Before I let myself take the chance to retch, I turned around and walked briskly away to find a less-disturbing shelter.

In the distance I saw a hunched over figure, obviously in pain. Upon closer inspection, I recognized the shoulder-length blond locks, and the blue coat and caplet. It was Francis. I took a step forward, and his head snapped up to see who was approching, a gaze like ice. Once he met my curious stare, something flickered behind his cold eyes, something like remembrance. I could see his mouth moving as he started to converse with me, but I could only hear morbid notes of a heavenly choir. The choir was singing in an old language, probably Latin, but I felt a distant connection with the lyrics. And as if I was in a trance, I stepped uncertainly towards the sound, controlled by my desire to be with and help my father. I took another step, inches away from my father's inviting, outstretched arms-

-And was awoken out of my zombie-state concentration by an ear-splitting crash, before I spun deftly around to see what on earth had made such a sound. In a cloud of ash and rubble, a winged-figure emerged from the impact zone. He had the qualities of an angel; grace and the like. But Francois's pale, lank hair and sullen eyes held no warmth like my father's. His plea sounded like something was dying; like nails on a chalkboard; like shattering glass. The damned male in disguise pointed behind me in such exasperation, I had to tear my eyes away from his perfectness, back to who they focused on just a moment ago. I let out a soundless scream.

Francis's voice was still beautiful and trance-inducing, but his once warm, sea-blue eyes had turned into pitiless sockets, his mouth curving into a gruesomly inhuman, lipless grin. His perfect teeth had been replaced by black, ground-down stumps that boasted second and third rows of dagger-like canines. Most of his blond hair had fallen out, leaving a misshapened, deteriorating scull. Two twisted horns like tree-roots protruded out the sides of his head and a pair of giant, damaged bat-wings burst out of his back, just below his shoulder-blades. A forked tongue slid out of his mouth, tasting the air much like a snake would do, and beckoned me closer with a curled hand, the choir singing louder and more beautifully than ever.

My eyes flew open, and I was met by three perplexed and paranoid faces. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck prickle my skin in fear, the heaving of my chest suggested I woke up hyperventilating. I felt exausted, like I didn't get a wink of sleep all night long.

"-you alright? Mattie? Matthew?" It felt as if my hearing had just rebooted, like a radio tuning in from a long while of static. I looked up, and my vision refocused as well. Gilbert had propped himself over me with his elbow, and was using his free hand to hold up two or three fingers, as if he wanted me to tell his how many he was holding up- which, at the moment, felt like the hardest question to answer in the world.

"I-I'm fine," I whispered hoarsely, as I groggily brushed Gil's hand out of my vision. I sat myself up, and automatically wished that I hadn't. My head throbbed and pounded like some little tiny person was in my head, bashing my brain into slush with a sledge-hammer.

"See, I told you. You people worry to much." Matt said cooly, though I picked up on the tiny bit of shaky relief in his tone, and smiled to myself.

"Vell, vhen your tiny head-cramps subside, meet us in zee east wing. We've got our first mission today, und it vould be a shame if you had to sit zis out." Julchen explained, with the smallest amount of empathy in her voice despite how she looked at me when I first woke up.

We had only started living in Gilen's church a week ago, and I was being expected to be able to find my way around without any help. I was times like these when I really wished I had brought along a compass.

It was already noon by the time my headaches subsided, and it probably took me an extra half-hour to find the damn meeting point. Everyone was waiting, and Gilen had adopted a disgruntled expression, as he always seemed to be wearing whenever I screwed up a simple command of his.

"About time," Gilen commented on my late appearance casually, though Julchen gave her boss a warning look. "Now zat vee're all present, I shall relay your first mission as a team."

"In zee next town over, I have an important package vaiting for me at zee post-office. But, I've noticed zat someone has been following me every time I go out. So, I need you to go incognito und get zee parcel, vile figuring out who iz following me at zee same time. Got it?"

I sucked in a breath. He's sure asking for a lot, I thought, though along with the others, I accepted the challenge.

~•~

"Well, I'm not going out there dressed as a priest. No way." Matt said curtly, yet he didn't look up from his feet. I thought it was kind of strange that Matt's behavior had gone haywire; first he was smiling to himself and blushing away while we were walking to Gilen's for the first time; now he's either being curt or nervous around the Prussian.

"True, they'd spot you in an instant. Not good when you're supposed to be going incognito." I reminded, getting a cold glare in return.

"I think Gilbert should be zee one to pick up zee package," and Julchen added with a scary tone, "just, whatever you do, don't break character."

Gil grinned, placing his hands behind his head as he leaned back on Gilen's expensive desk-chair. "Don't sweat it, I have zee 'unawesome tight-ass' act in zee bag!" I stifled a chuckle, because I automatically knew he was talking about Austria.

"Good," Julchen said finally, "Zee three of us vill shcan zee area-"

"I'm going solo..." Matt cut-in, his eyes focused out the window.

"-zee two of us, Matthew und I, vill shcan zee area from zee rooftops, und hopefully, vee'll catch zis stalker in one night."

So with the plan settled, Prussia changed into an array of Gilen's attire, accidentally ripping a few items in a rush to get them on. The package was located at a small post office in the heart of the town, so there would be a crowd to fit into. Julchen drew up a plan, albeit a hard to read, scribbled plan and marched us out of the church. The further on we walked, the more festival posters we walked past in fancy German script and the air became filled with loud music as they passed through the gates.

"Preparation for a festival? Hmm, zat's funny, zee next celebration isn't for six months or more." Julchen thought aloud, holding her chin in thought as her eyes skimmed over poster after poster.

"That shouldn't be a problem though, right? All we've got to do is get this package." I mentioned. Julchen nodded her head to the side and acknowledged my point.

"Still, I don't like this. Let's just pick up zee package und go. Somesing's up, und I'm not shticking around to find out vhat." Julchen drew her cowl over her head and dipped into a side alley, as I followed in suit. A rusting iron staircase scaled the walls of the building on the left. I made a start toward it, but Julchen's arm extended to collide with my collarbone, knocking me back.

"Are you mad? Those stairs haven't been used in years! Und vith zee rainfall zis town gets, the stairs vill be very unstable. Come vith me." And she continued down to the right, where she circled through another alley and stopped at a door. Julchen pressed her ear to the chipped wood of the door and went silent for a few moments, and with one swift move stepped back from the door, brought her leg up- crunch!- the door collapsed like it was a rectangle of fragile drywall.

"Julchen, that- you can't go breaking into someone's house, that's-!" I dithered, watching in shock as Julchen leaped through the opening she made and disappeared into the house. I waited silently for a yelp or an angry shout, but nothing emitted from inside other than the clicking of Julchen's boots on the hardwood floor. Suddenly, a gloved hand followed by the navy coat sleeve of Julchen's arm bent out of the doorway and made a beckoning motion. Sighing, I gingerly stepped over shards of the door that once stood and stepped into the room.

Clouds of interrupted dust floated around the low ceiling, I had to duck down to avoid suffocating and bumping my head on the hanging light fixtures. Dirty areas of the floor displayed where tiles once were, creating an unfinished jigsaw look. Dust bunnies coated an administration desk carved delicately, while hardened wax hinted where candles gave light on the walls and above our heads.

"It's a hotel lobby. Been out of business for 60 years. Someone's started dismantling zee place already, but zee coast is clear. Zee stairwell should be around here somewhere, und zat should eventually take us to zee roof." Julchen turned to me, her expression cold. "Do not underestimate my knowledge und shpeak like you know vat you're doing. I can navigate all zee underlying towns surrounding zee church vith my eyes closed while you have not spent a day outside und sink you can do zee same!"

She turned away furiously and stomped to the entrance to a hallway, while I ran to catch up. There were the stairs, rickety and coated with dust and cobwebs. A rotting stench filled the enclosed room, and I didn't dare to go searching for what was causing the smell. Julchen didn't care that the stairs were in no better state than the flights outside, and started walking up without minding the holes and unstable parts of each step. I kept my distance and carefully trod after her.

On the third flight, Julchen brought her boot down hard on the wrong step. Her leg went straight through, the jagged wood carved a long tear down her leather boot and pierced the skin underneath. But her pained cry spoke a bigger problem than a ruined boot and a mere cut.

"Argh, sohn von eine- mein Knöchel!" Julchen yelled, I stood there trying to rack my brain for an answer to what on earth she was saying. Hmm, something-some-something my what? I give up, German is too hard...

Julchen noticed my incapability to speak her native tongue instantaneously at my umm-ing and ahh-ing and shouted, "My ankle has shattered! I can feel some varm vetness in zee sole of my boot und I can't move it because my foot is shtuck in zee stair!" I wanted to remind her about the state of the stairs but knew now wasn't the time.

I rushed to her side and scoped out what to do. Coming to a conclusion, I reached around Julchen's shoulders and placed a hand either side of her right calf, the side that was trapped. Her heartbeat shuddered then quickened at my close presence, the tips of her ears turning pink.

"...D-Do you have to be so close?" She murmured, it was the first time I heard her fumble over her words.

I took my hands back and turned away, my tone a mock nonchalance, "Oh, that's fine then. You can stay stuck in the stairs then and I'll go tell-"

"No, vait- ugh, mein Gott... Matthew, come back." Julchen called, her tone turning helpless. Swallowing the feeling of guilty satisfaction at how feeble she sounded, I went back and took my position around her. She relaxed a little, though her ears shone red. Carefully, I guided her foot out, warned by Julchen's hissing and whimpers until her foot was out of the stair completely.

I unlaced her boot and gently pulled it off, Julchen groaned at what she saw. The whole bottom of her sock was red in some places and something was sticking up sickeningly on the side of her foot that hadn't broke the cotton material. I went to peel at the top of the sock, but Julchen's hand smacked me away.

"Nein, just leave it. I'll hop on one foot. You...you get over here und support me."

So with a great deal of difficulty, I pulled Julchen up and cautiously slunk my hand around her waist and held her wrist with the other. I looked up at the many more flights of stairs we had yet to clear. Sucking in a deep breath I started the long climb to the top.

This is going to be a long day...

Back on the ground, Prussia was given directions on where to be according to Julchen's plan. Matt was told to stay with him and back him up if something went wrong, despite what he wanted to do. He lent against the wall near Gilbert and sulked, casting deathly looks at Gil every so often.

Prussia grinned and turned to face the 2p, his voice dripping with his usual sarcasm. "Hey, vhat's zee matter, tight-ass? Crying cause you can't go off und act all 'cool'? Excuse me, but I am zee embodiment of cool! I am Pr-"

"You think you love Matthew?" Matt retorted, an evil look in his eye.

"Huh?...Vhat do you mean? Of course I love him, vhy-"

"No, you don't. You think you know what loving someone is, but it's all a lie. If you don't think true love is suffering through hell, through distance for them, then you're just wasting your goddamn time!"

Prussia squared his shoulders and scrunched up his face, but his tone stayed even. "You're just getting pissy 'cause you're on your little man-period. Und if you even bothered to talk to Gilen instead of hide away, he might-"

But Matthieu shot his hand out to Gilbert, and put a finger to his lips. Prussia made a puzzled face and mouthed an irritated "Vhat?". Matthieu was looking elsewhere, training his eyes on a hooded figure, Prussia looked around as a man's face emerged from underneath the cowl. He couldn't understand why Matt looked so pissed off and horrified at the same time.

"Oh fuck, it's...!"

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Translations:

- Sohn von eine [Shlampe] = Son of a [bitch]

- Mein Knöchel! = My ankle!

- Nein = No

AN: 'sink' is supposed to be 'think' said with a German accent. It's not a spelling mistake, it is meant to be there! Same with 'schan', that's supposed to be 'scan' said with a German accent.

Almost all of the German words above I already knew (thanks to German lessons at school! XD)

GOMENOSAI! I have left this story alone for too long! I have left this chapter with a cliffhanger. Who is the man under the cloak? Is it the man that has been following Gilen to the post office? So why does Matthieu sound like he's seen his man before? All will be revealed in Chapter Eleven: Mission Improbable Part 2!

Thanks for reading, bye bye!