Warning: as desribed in the description, there are scenes in this story that may be disturbing. Character deaths included.
The effects of the Wabbajack may be different in the story than in the actual game, but I tried to make them as close as possible.
All characters/objects in the story belong to their respecting owners.
Enjoy~
England looked at the object in America's hand; a long staff, a sleek dark grey rod, and three ghoulish heads at the tip; mouths agape. But the most scry thing about this staff, was it aura. England could sense it as soon as Alfred entered the world meeting hall. Long twisted waves of red and purple (only visible to him) eminated off the tip. This was definatly a mysterious magical object, a very powerful one at that.
He just couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.
"Umm... America? What is that?" He looked fearfully at the imposing rod.
"Dude, why are you so scared?" The obnoxious American entered the room, waving the rod around as he gestured with his hands during speach as if it was nothing but a rag. Arthur could tell others in the room were cautious about the rod, even some to the point threatened by America's new weapon. "Its just a staff." He declared, standing around his seat.
"And how did you come to aqquire such an... interesting object?" Germany asked from his seat at the head of the table; hints of anxiety coming through his voice.
"Oh, well it was kinda weird..." America started as he recalled the events.
He walked through a long hallway in a castle; cobwebs and dust blanketing ornate columns and rugs. Filtered light streamed down through ancient glass windows, exposing floating dust particles in the air. Alfred couldn't remember how he got into this strange midieval castle, but progressing through the corridor appeared his only option, so he did. Downward stairs came into view in front of him, and his pace quickened.
One final step though, resulted in him being catapulted through a strange pitch black space; sucked into the vortex and no way to stop it. There was no time to call for help, nor anyone to hear his pleas anyway. So with a silent tongue, the country was pulled into an alternate dimension.
A painful entry inot this strange new world greeted him; he landing less-than gracefully onto dark grass. With tired eyes he scanned the area. A mist-shroud forest clearing was what came into focus. Twisting and crooked trees lines the edges, only one layer visible due to the intense fog covering.
From his left, he heard two voices.
A table was set up. Several finely-crafted seats surrounded the banquet table, but there were only two men to occupy them. Foods of all colors and kinds were set out on sterling silver platters, and goblets filled with steaming tea. A crazy-sounding voice spoke as the man rose from his chair. "More tea, Pelly my dear?" The man asked, addressing his table partner. Alfred rose from his crumpled position on the ground and cautiously approached the table.
"Oh no, I couldn't. Goes right through me. Besides, I have so many things to do." Alfred could only catch a glimpse of the back of the second man's head before he dissapeared in a swirling vortex of purple and black, leaving America and the strange man alone. "Why hello there~" He greeted Al, turning around and looking at him.
Only then did America get a good look at the stranger.
The man's eyes were nothing but white orbs, casting fear into Alfred. His silver hair was slicked back in a messy fashion. A white ascot was wrapped around his neck, and a brown belt encircled his waist, a silver buckle and a dagger holster stood out among the belt. But the most striking thing about his outfit was the silk suit, which had all sorts of strange patterns on it. The right half was a bright lavender and the left, a dull crimson. His certainly had the appearence of a madmen, and the voice to boot. "We don't get many visitors in here, so what brings you here?" He yelled, despite the fact the Alfred was a mere 3 feet away.
"Uh, actually I don't know... but who are you?" The blonde asked. Suddenly, the strange host began to chuckle, then burst out in a meniacal laugh.
"Hahaha! Funny!" He responded, showing that he took America's question as a joke. "I'm Sheogorath." He introduced, taking Alfred's right hand a shaking it wildly. He reminded America of someone. The Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland... He realized. "You know, you seem pretty special." Sheogorath released Alfred's now throbbing hand, and backed off to look him over. "Yes... He does resemble him... No, not the glasses..." He began to mumble to himself, or imaginary creatures he thought were with him.
"Where are we?" Alfred asked, glancing around the clearing once more.
"Ah, yes!" Sheogorath snapped out of his ramblings. "You're Pelagius' mind. And to get out, I want you to have this. It'll help you!" Out of no where, a staff manifested itself in Alfred's right hand, and he closed his fingers around the object. "Careful with that, you never know what it'll do!" He then went into another laughing fit, and this time louder than before. "And don't aim it at your face!" He chorted some more, as if recalling a past experience. "Yeah, so don't die out there." He then pushed Alfred through a stone archway, rambling as they went along. "Watch out for the tiny people running about, don't hit the frost giants, and NEVER use that on the goat~!"
"And that was when I had to do a whole lot of trials. When I woke up this was in my bed beside me and I felt all tired and stuff." America concluded, holding up his prize, aiming it at the wall. "He called it a Wabbajack!" As soon as the staff's name was called out, a horrible flash of lightning streaked from the tip and colided with the wall, blowing chunks of plaster and wood into the next room. England and France ducked and took cover under the table as shrapnel hurled itself at them. A shreak came from Liechtenstein, and Switzerland hurried to shield her from the debris. Powder from the drywall rained down from the wreakage, and a breeze cleared it to reveal the aftermath.
A 20 foot diameter, jagged edged circle, singed edges and debris covering the floor was what remained of the wall. America stood, stunned and gaping at his new found weapon. Italy was heard whining in the corner out of fear, and Germany was yelling across the room to America. "I knew it was dangerous!" He steamed, stomping towards America. His hand reached into his coat, and came out with a colt handgun. He aimed the handgun at America's temple, still keeping a safe distance between the two.
Startled by Ludwig's reaction, America spun around and pointed the Wabbajack at Germany's chest. He closed his eyes, picturing anything but the gun. "Wabbajack!" He yelled, and a red line streamed from the tip, hitting both Ludwig and his weapon. In a puff of smoke, he was gone, and what to replace him?
A goat. "Doitsu, Doitsu!" Italy cried for his friend. Alfred gazed at his weapon; awe written on his face.
"Now now, j-just put the staff down..." England attempted to reason with the blonde, but France but in.
"Amerique!" He called, rushing to yank the staff from America's hands. But his grip was far too strong, and he failed to wretch it from him.
"Dude, this is totally like a video game!" He exclaimed after shoving France off.
"Bloody hell, frog!"
"Hm..." He looked the blonde over as he pulled himself off the ground. And idea formed in his mind, to test the extent of the Wabbajack's power of his control. "Yeah, I'll turn you into what you really are!" He pressed the tip of the magical staff to France's head, and the crimson beam wrapped around Francis' body.
In a puff, he was transformed into America's opinion of what he "really is".
A small, emerald green frog replaced France. It croaked, and lept off to squeaze under the door. An eerie silence fell on the room, until the frantic trampling of feet to the doorway broke the silence.
America looked down at his weapon; an meniacal gleam on his glasses. He felt a sensation tingle down his spine, and his fingers wrapped forcebly around the iron rod.
"Hahaha!" He laughed, his head tilted up to the vaulted ceiling. But wait, was there something he was forgetting? Something Sheagorath mentioned at their first meeting...
"Um... What will happen when I use it?" Alfred asked as he was being forced out of the clearing.
"Only what you want to happen~" Sheogorath was obviously avoiding something.
"Will anything happen to... me?" Alfred made his question more specific.
"Oh yeah, about that..." Sheogorath trailed off, looking off somewhere in space. "Yeah. You'll have to watch out for the tinglies! They sure do make a man go wacko~!" He gave Alfred one final push, and he was thrust under the stone archway along a shadowy dirt pathway. "Just look at me! Hahaha! Well, good luck kid, kid kid kid kid!"
Sheogorath's voice echoed as Alfred's mind returned to reality. Another laugh left his mouth, and he turned violently; pointing the Wabbajack above the door. A ball of fire burst from the tip, impacting the wall before any other countries could escape. His chortles did not cease.
Burning wood and wall rained down on the ones closest to the double doors, and Ukraine screamed as the fire singed her shoulder.
"Hahaha! I feel the tinglies inside~!" America yelled, taking a large step closer to the group. Russia let out a yowl, and withdrew his concealed sink pipe.
"Amerika!" he yelled, and charged through the crowd. Still consumed by the insanity spreading through him, America did not react to his sudden charge, and took a full-on blow to the head. Russia bludgened the top of his skull, and blood gushed from the wound. It soaked into the carpet and down his forehead. It caked the side of the steel pipe, and splattered Russia's gloved hands.
"Heh... heh heh heh..." America mumbled, slowly turning to face the pipe-weilding Ivan from on the floor. "Wabbajack." He smirked, and pressed the Wabbajack to Russia's chest.
A bolt of lightning surged through Russia, charring him from the inside out. Smoke billowed from his gaping mouth. He fell backwards and colapsed at the trembling Ukraine's feet.
"B-brother?..." Tears welled from her eyes. Belarus stood next to her sister, glaring with fire at Alfred.
"You bastard!" She pulled a knife from her dress and attempted to stab the wobbling Alfred. But that was not before she joined her brother and the floor, coughing blood from the blow that America gave her with a bash from the staff. "At least..." She cupped his cold face. "We can die together..." Her last breath escaped her mouth, and her eyes glazed over.
America swung the Wabbajack behind him, barely missing England and Canada. England grasped Canada by the hood of his jacket, and jerked him away.
"What, no challenge?" America bellowed. Switzerland stepped forward, handgun drawn. Without uttering a word, he lodged three shots into America's gut. He stepped back with each blow delivered to his stomach. Crimson blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.
"Wabbajack, Wabbajack, Wabbajack! Hahaha!" He screamed, and fired three shots at Switzerland. One impacted his head, causing a firey explosion. The second and third hit the others standing by the door. Only a few made it out. Italy crawled from the wreakage, dragging himself over to the goat. He touched its head, and clouds surrounded them. Standing before him, was now Germany. He had reverted back to his human state. "Oh, what a bother~ And I thought I could have a pet goat..." America huffed, aiming the Wabbajack at Germany.
"Italy!" He crouched down, scooping the injured brunette into his arms. "Italy, answer me!" He cried, but only whispers came from his parted mouth. Germany looked over him, and noticed the absence of a left leg.
"Doitsu... I-I'm sorry..." Tears welled up in his eyes, and his head fell down onto Germany's lap. "I thought... we could-" He coughed up blood.
"Stop, don't speak." He ordered softly. Thumping of feet approaching rang in Germany's ears.
"-I thought we could... be friends... forever..." He closed his eyes, and welcomed the arms of death to wrap around him. America walked up to the two, and hit Germany in the temple with the back of his staff. Ludwig's eyes rolled back into his head and he fell on the floor with a *thud*.
"West! West, get up!" Prussia begged.
"Wabbajack!" America fired a bolt into him, and Prussia paused mid-stride. He too joined the others.
England and Canada watched from the corner of the room, powerless to stop America. They closed their eyes, only listening to the cries for help and explosions. Maniacal laughter rang through their ears. Canada squeezed his eyes shut tighter, hoping to banish the visions he was having. His hands wrapped around Kumajiro ever so tightly, keeping the bear close to his chest. Short and quick breaths came from both of their lungs.
They froze as the noise stopped, and the only sound left was the tapping of feet: coming towards them. England's eyes parted to look up at America. He now stood before them, caked in the blood of fellow countries. A sadistic grin was born on his face. He removed his cracked and spattered glasses, tossing them aside. Canada looked at his brother with horror spread on his features.
His once kind and laughing cerulean blue eyes, were now a crimcon red. "He he he..." He chuckled. A hand fell on top of Canada's head, and ruffled his hair.
"A-America, what have you done?" England meeped, scanning the area. Tears formed in both the cowering country's eyes.
"Wabbajack."
"Ah!" America gasped, sitting up from the floor with a jolt. He clutched his aching heart firmly. Perspiration covered his entire body an soaked his clothes. He scrambled for his glasses, putting them on shakily.
He was home. In his living room.
The glow from the TV illuminated the dark space. Slashing noises, the rumbling of the x-box, and the vigorous tapping of fingers on the controller were heard. Tony sat on the floor in front of him. "What happened?" America asked him. Without looking towards his friend, Tony answered.
"You fell asleep. I'm playing now." He said. America watched the screen for a few seconds.
Tony was playing the new game Skyrim. His character ran through the dungeons, slaying groaning drouger and poisonous frostbite spiders. A hand came to America's forehead and ran through his hair. I must have been playing Skyrim before passing out... He realized that the strange events were nothing but a dream. Sighing with relief, he fell back down on the floor. Good. That was scary. I can't imagine myself doing that. No more Skyrim for me for a while. He decided, turning on his side to fall back asleep.