Mkay. New chapter woop!
The chapters may or may not start getting longer after this.

At the cafeteria everything was grey just like the rest of the building, other than that one office. Grey, grey, and more gray, but unlike the rest of the building the greys had less contrast. Over lapping one another it was like a sickening optical illusion. Even the shades closer to white looked oddly dark in here, even with plentiful lighting in the large spacious room. Everyone chattered lightly. Mostly it was all just a competition. Whose life was harder?

The Italians sat next to one another. It would be so much harder to tell them apart if their facial expressions were always the same. Lovino always looked very irritable and pissed off, whereas Feliciano appeared to be content… all the time. Next to them was Antonio. He seemed to smile a lot as well, but it had less honesty to it. The Germans sat at the far end of that table avoiding the others there. They appeared to be as close as the twins. Then at the table behind them were Arthur, Alfred, and Kiku. Everyone else wasn't at the same circle time. They were faceless. Ivan noticed he could never recognize them as they passed by; they held such simple and generic features.

Ivan glances around being the last one to arrive. The blonde Brit that's name was apparently Arthur kept glancing over at him with envious green eyes. Ivan tilts his head and smiles at the other while he thinks.

At the farthest table was Bash. He seemed to keep his yap shut the most.

The Russian walks over to sit with him. They do nothing but exchange dead glances, studying one another. Ivan smiles and Bash simply nods. The taller male chuckled lightly to himself, as if they had their own little secret language. They were surrounded by idiots.

Ivan sits up strait; the metal ridges of the long seats weren't very kind. He didn't feel very hungry, but knows a bit better than to fast.

The Russian gets up and makes his way to get some dinner. It was much more varied than lunch, but he still got it cold being the last one in line. At least he got it without a line being there to bother him.

Ivan sits back down and looks up to see the American glancing at him. He then shifts his sky blue eyes away quickly to talk to Arthur. Where they talking about him?

This frustrated him but he shrugs it off and eats his soggy dinner.

After he finishes his meal they've got about four minutes before they can leave. He reaches his hands down into his pockets and leans back slightly, yet in a way that he doesn't fall backward. The Russians furrows his silver brows while fiddling his fingers around in his pocket. Something that felt cold and oddly shaped danced on his fingertips.

He grabs a hold of it and lifts it into view. Bash glances over and his green eyes stayed as un-amused as they had been since day one.

The object glares some off of the light. Ivan grins looking at it. "A key." It was a golden key that glimmered mockingly at Ivan in its brilliance.

It must have been what was taped to the paper before, but while crumpling it up so much it must have come off. Still, where did it lead?

There was a booming lightning strike surprisingly close. Ivan tried counting how long before he heard the obnoxious thunder. He counted fifteen seconds. That's about three miles, or four and a half kilometers. It was much too far for anyone to begin getting worried.

The rain began to pound and tapper across the roof in melodic intervals. Everyone sat in the cafeteria beginning to scoot closer to one another because of the decreasing temperature. Ivan, quite honestly, was relieved to feel the light draft and the drop in humidity. It was nice.

The pale boy then stuffs the key back into pocket and glances around as everyone began to leave. The guard was, of course, on guard. He groans some to himself. The Canadian wanted him to be trust worthy, but at this point he was sniffing around way too much. There was no way he was going to just turn back now.

Everyone herded like cattle, makes their way back to their rooms. Ivan looks through his dresser and picks out some clothing… the showers. Dear god the showers. At least it was all males. At least no one seemed to be like that. Then again if anyone did, Ivan appeared to be the type to be like that. Tall and somewhat bulky, his appearance wasn't the most innocent.

He glances over to see Feliciano still scrambling over his necklace. The Italian looks up with saddened eyes. "Okay… let's go to the showers and you will help me look for my locket, right?"

"Da." Honestly when Feliciano wasn't cheery and smiling it was a bit unsettling to the taller male.

"Okay, good, grazie."

So, onward they go once more, with fresh clothing slung over their arms like saddles. Ivan glances over to see everyone stares ahead, not making eye contact with one another in any way shape or form. He then assimilates and does the same, looking ahead. Once the showers are reached they all take turns walking in one by one. Ivan walks over putting his clothes on a bench, then waits for the other's to finish first.

The others don't take long. They get in, wash off, and get out. Some glance over at him, and he could swear he heard Alfred whisper, "Yo, I bet he's playing Shy Guy". Which made the Russian sneer to himself. He was simply relieving the other patients from having to see the scars that plagued his neck area.

Everyone slowly begins to file out, dirt clothes in their arms, as feet sweep across the moist floor. Their wet hair all plasters to their faces. They all looked either relieved or terrified. Then he is alone.

He sighs, stripping naked, then breaths in the constricting humid air before walking to the tiled wall and facing its horrific light grayish blue color. Then turns on the shower and begins to wash off hearing the rushing of the water, and the hardening pounding on the ceiling from the rain. Ivan rolls his shoulder back and bends his neck to face the hot water. It was actually quite nice. After he finishes washing off he twists the knob turning the water off and walks back. He grabs a towel and runs it over his hair, then his body drying it off. The Russian glances up as he hears a knock.

"Who is still in there?" It was the accent of the guard. She seems a bit concerned.

Ivan groans some and calls out, "It is only me. I am almost finished."

"Well alright. Just come out in the next five minute."

Elizabeta just gave him way too much time. Ivan quickly changes back and shifts his scarf into perfect place. He heard more thunder that seemed to accent the dripping of the shower head. About four minutes to use up.

The Russian makes his way to the vents. They seemed to whisper as cool dusty air breezes through it. Ivan leans in closer hearing someone get a little too loud.

"NON! I will not stand for that. You know he is hiding something!"

"Francis calm down." The scratch of a chair's legs against a hard coloring can be heard. "We don't know what is really wrong. Just let him speak of it on his own. He will crack. They all do eventually."

Ivan blinks leaning his clean ear against the dirty vent. "Oh please!"

"Francis." The other voice had warned. It was the Canadian's. It was the voice he had used when he had just about snapped. It made the tall male grin to himself. How much would it take to really make him snap?

"Matthew you know this is dangerous! What about the ghosts! Really, did you think this was a great place to start a place like this? What were you thinking?"

"I… I don't know. I don't even remember much of how I got here. To this place I'm in."

"N-neither do I."

Who were they even talking about? Ivan had a bit of a sneaking suspicion it was himself, but In all reality there was no evidence.

"IVAN!"

The one called snaps his neck around looking at the door that was being bashed on. "Hurry up in there! We don't have all day!"

The Russian lowers his gaze and walks out of the showers still craving more. He wanted more information, more things to be lead to. He wanted to solve the mysteries unweaving here. They seemed to speak to him.

Just like that doctor's voice. Matthew; the honeydew blonde that has a personality as sweet as syrup. It almost made him sick to his stomach, but the other's real voice was so intriguing. It rang in his mind for the rest of the night. Confusing him, and making him think, the voice would even haunt his dreams some.

*End of Day Two*

I don't own Hetalia, blah blah blah
It's the end of day two, so it's only just begun. Mwahaha, some more "scares" next chapter.