"It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark
Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart
You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes
You're paralyzed"- Michael Jackson, "Thriller"

America, England, and France ran back to Mexico's house with all their might. Their hearts pounded against their chests as they lifted each leg away from the scene of the crime. America led the pack by a landslide. Even though he stuffed his face with unhealthy snacks every second of every day, the boy was athletic. He was built for such physical activities. 'Across the plains of Texas, from sea to shining sea, from Detroit down to Houston, and New York to L.A.,' that movie Forrest Gump was mere child's play compared to what America usually did for his daily exercises.

The same couldn't be said for the other two. England felt a stabbing pain at his throat and side as he darted away from the museum. The Englishman wasn't in horrible shape; although, he had seen better days in the past. He and France were at a tie for second place. Though, France was already out of breath once he began moving his legs. Running wasn't on his top favorite activity doing with his body (if you catch my drift).

The three turned on the sharp corner almost slipping in the process, leading to Mexico's street. With America being in the lead, he saw his friend's home first. He mentally thanked the universe for granting him a place to take shelter in. The only one who stood in between his as well as England and France's safety was Canada. America silently cursed at himself. Now he might bring Canada into the mess he stirred up at the museum.

Meanwhile in the comfortable household, the Canadian flipped through the channels on the television completely oblivious to the situation his brother created. Earlier that evening his brother America asked (more like commanded) him to watch over Mexico's house while he, England, and France went out to do whatever. Canada was use to those three leaving him to do the boring chores while they went out and had a ball. Canada didn't agree to help his brother for his sake. Mexico was a dear friend of his. Of course, they never really talked to each other until after World War II, but she did endure America as much as he did. It was only natural that they connected with one another even if it was because they complained to one another about how much America annoyed them.

Nothing was on TV and every other channel promoted that Justin Bieber's new movie called Never Say Never. Okay, Bieber, you're cool and so original. No one in the world has said or thought of that phrase before. Canada was so grateful for getting rid of that kid and making him his brother's problem. At least Canada had Michael Bublé to share with the world. Now that guy had class and talent.

Canada heard muffles of his name from the front door as well as intense pounding on the wooden door. "Canada!" He listened. "Open the door! It's me, America!" Inwardly Canada thought, well duh. Of course it was him. Canada expected no one else at such an hour before the party. Canada, with some laziness, got up from the couch. He stretched his arms and legs before making his way to the front door where America and the others still pounded with such powerful force. America's brother opened the door, instantly noticing their red faces as they dashed inside the warm house.

"Are you guys okay?" Canada asked, but they all ignored him while they barricaded the door with a table. "What's going on?"

"America lit a candle… woman came out…" England couldn't form complete sentences since he was out of breath from running.

"Eh…?"

"Oh Canada! Zere is an evil woman is on our tail! You must 'elp us!"

"Evil woman?" Canada was so lost. None of the words they spouted at him made a lick of goddamn sense. However, Canada understood one thing, and that was seeing blood was not a good sign to anyone. "Wait France, is that blood on your jacket?"

France looked down and finally noticed the blood stains. After seeing that monstrosity appear out of nowhere, everything in life seemed like a walk in the park. France disregarded Canada's statement; however, that did not stop the other from looking deeply worried for his former caretaker. "Oui, it seems I 'ave forgotten zat."

"Tell me what's going on with you three!" Canada demanded. This seemed serious, and if it was another one of America's pranks, Canada was going to go Manada on their asses.

"Long story short: America didn't listen to directions," England managed to say through small wheezes.

"How was I suppose to know that thing was gonna come alive?" America defended.

"First off, we shouldn't have been down there. It was off limits. And second, I told you multiple times to stop! You should have listened to others. But you don't and look at what this hocus pocus got us in." England fumed. He was so angry at America and the entire situation. It was a nightmare that could have been completely avoided.

"You're right," America said defeated, "I did this to everyone. I put everyone in danger, and I'm sorry for that. But as many times as I say it, it doesn't change the fact that I have no idea of what is ahead of us." Everyone could have sworn America sounded like he was about to breakdown. He never did anything this stupid and irresponsible.

"You really are stupid, America," England's comment felt like pouring salt on a wound. It hurt America. "You have us on your side. We're never going to leave you in this ghastly situation alone." America looked up from the ground, feeling reassured. As much shit as they have been through, America always knew England had his back. "I speak for myself right now. I have no idea if France, here, will stay or run away like the little girl he is." (Yes, England managed to insult France at the last possible minute. Score One for the Brit!)

"Now wait just a second! I am zee world renowned France! I-" But France didn't finish what he started. A loud knock echoed from the front door, interrupting the country and scaring them all shitless. The four countries instantly felt terror fill their bodies. All of them pressed their backs to the wall, waiting for whatever fate had in store for them. The golden door handle twisted but never allowed the person beyond the door entry. As the door handle rotated back and forth, the countries on the other side ceased to breathe. Any minor sound could confirm their existence.

"Hello anyone there?" A familiar voice came from the other side. "Mexico, you okay? Let me in!" They all sighed in relief. It was only Spain at the door. America moved the table out of the door's way, allowing Spain to finally come in the house.

The Spaniard stormed in the house with some unusual (yet familiar to England) attire he planned on wearing to America's Halloween party, noticing his comrades and person he will never forgive named England, who continued on giving him an funny look, (oh and Canada). "What are you all doing here at Mexico's house? Shouldn't you be getting ready for your own fiesta, America?"

America as well as the others looked down at their casual clothing. The thought of America's party brought them back to reality instead of thinking about the haunting witchcraft they had just endured prior. "Oh yeah… I almost forgot about that."

"You spoke of nothing else for two weeks," said Spain. Something odd happened in this house, Spain was certain of it. Thus, he promised to find out sooner or later. He looked around and didn't see his former colony, which made Spain believe the first worst possible thought his mind could form in that moment. "YOU KILLED MEXICO!"

"How would such a horrible thought even cross your mind so quickly?" England asked with so much irritation. The Englishman looked up and down at his enemy who glared with just as much fierceness as he did. Spain wore high brown boots with buckles as well as tanned breeches. The Spaniard's white shirt was made of a thin material but was more ruffled in the front of his chest. It was tied by a dark brown sash around his waist. But what was really eye catching was the royal red color of Spain's velvet coat. It might have been a few shades darker than blood. It was so striking but not as much as the shimmering gold embroidery. It gave Spain this position of wealth and power. That very though made England scoff. What a show off, he thought. He hated this man so much that he wished he could go back in time to crush the Spanish Armada once again.

"Well, tell me where Mexico is."

England's sight landed on America as did Spain's soon after. They waited for the American's reply. "Out, but I don't know where she is exactly."

"You can't even give me a straight story. This only makes you all look more suspicious."

"Sorry that I don't keep tabs on every country I see!"

Spain imagined himself as a detective solving a grisly murder. No one spoke up; that only added to the anxiety in the air. Everyone but Canada seemed to tense up when Spain looked at them. One by one they avoided eye contact. America avoided saying anything to anyone out of the loop. This was his problem and no one else's. No one besides them three should know what happened tonight.

When Spain's eyes landed on England, they both avoided one another. Spain knew England wouldn't talk so he didn't try to get information out of his rival. Mentally they both shouted and screamed foul words to each other as though they had an internal battle. The English nation was stubborn up until this very day as was the Spaniard.

One person was left. France. And everyone knew that getting information out of him would be a piece of cake. Though, when the Spaniard looked at his amigo, he spotted something rather odd on his jacket. It was a brown, dried-up substance that looked as though someone wiped their handed over France's chest. This horrified Spain. He felt an instant, pounding pain upon his chest. It brought him back to the times of war when everyone fought like a savage to defend their lives.

"Francia," Spain sounded worried and then urgent, "what happened to your clothes? Whose blood is this?"

Merde, thought France. He could not think of a good excuse at the moment. His thoughts were paralyzed with fear when he remembered the woman they all encountered earlier. "What does it matter, mon ami? Look, we are all fine and well! It's not as zough our lives are in danger."

Wrong again, France, wrong again. The light bulbs in Mexico's house began to dim and then flicker on and off, causing instant dread to go down England, France, and America's spines. They knew what was near. Not any of the countries were near the light switches, making Canada and Spain on edge. Something was wrong.

The three countries who knew what exactly was happening stepped away from the front door and windows. They pressed their backs to the bare wall. Spain's back faced the front door, exposing it to whatever was after his friends. Canada, having no clue what was occurring to Mexico's place, stood near his older brother.

There was a moment of silence where even the sound of a pin hitting the ground sounded like gun shots on sounding off during a raging war. America was the first one to hear a footstep. His heart pounded at his chest as though it were about to explode. She came closer to the door. He could imagine the woman's white hands grabbing the door handle, leading the woman to her prey.

Canada felt the need to open the door, but America grabbed his arm and pulled his brother to his side. "Maybe it's Mexico," the Canadian hoped rather than said.

"It's not her. I know it already." America crushed Canada's expectations.

"What did you do?" Spain asked once again, looking directly at America still with his back to the door. They heard the doorknob turn. England and France stopped breathing for a moment. There she was. The thing they brought back to life. Seeing her in complete darkness put all their deep dark fears to shame. They lived for many centuries and saw horrible and unforgivable things, but this… This was real evil. This was true terror.

Judging from their faces, Spain concluded that Mexico had not arrived yet. He turned and noticed the odd woman right away. The Spaniard could not get a good view of her face, seeing as most of it was covered by hair, but the dim lights did not help either. He tilted his head, attempting to identify the woman. But the woman knew who he was apparently. Her eyes widened as she looked at his face then clothes. Her dark eyes gleamed with so much hate and disgust.

"You…!" she said with a dry voice as though she had not had a sip of water in ages, pointing straight at Spain, then in a clear voice cried out, "MURDERER!" The woman screamed in complete agony. If she went any louder, the countries were sure to believe she could have shattered Mexico's windows.

The young men covered their ears to muffle the noise. In the darkness, America saw the crazed woman lift her arm about to attack Spain with her long nails that resembled claws on an animal. Her actions sent Spain in a state of shock. He just stood there wide eyed as the woman screamed, driving excruciating pain through their ear drums.

The next few moments happened in broken still shots for America. As the demented woman aimed her hand to swipe Spain, another dark figure revealed itself from behind the door. In their hands was a baseball bat. The person took a swing and hit the woman directly below the ribcage. She fell like a rag doll. The mysterious person turned on the lights, exposing Mexico as their savior, who looked panicked about the situation.

"Are you guys all right?" She asked quite concerned with her left hand holding onto the bat with a tight grasp. "I heard a scream like it was coming from a banshee or something."

"Mija! You saved me!" Spain ran to his former colony with arms wide open only to be rejected by being pushed away.

"I didn't do it to save you, dummy! I had to defend my house. And stop calling me your daughter!" Mexico became frazzled at Spain. He always knew how to mess with her. As the Mexican scolded Spain for treating her like a child once again, America sighed, feeling some of the stress being lifted off of his shoulders. Mexico's presence brought some relief to America. He wasn't sure why. If she was armed with a baseball bat, Mexico might be as big of a threat as Hungary with a frying pan. Though, Prussia might beg to differ, seeing as he knew damn well how Hungary was with a frying pan in the first place. 'Nothing compares to that powerhouse,' Prussia's words made America cringe. Thank God he did not have to deal with that crazy chick.

As America's thoughts drifted back to the monstrous woman, he noticed that she did not move a muscle. It was as though the life left her once again, leaving her body look like a lifeless doll thrown on the floor by a careless child. Mexico hovered over the body with her wooden bat just in case it sprang up again to attack while blocking out Spain's persistent pleads to call him some name in Spanish.

"Stop it, Spain! Now tell me what exactly happened in my house!" Mexico demanded bringing a stiff silence afterwards. The ones who knew of the happenings prior that evening had no intention of sharing the news. It was too dreadful.

"I have no idea. I arrived a few minutes before you did. You have to ask these four," said Spain, pointing to the four countries behind him who gave him dirty looks (except for Canada) for ratting them out.

"Look we can explain just-"

"Give me answers now, America. I'm not going to let you make up an excuse," Mexico said in a stern voice, pointing her bat directly at America's chest. The look in her eyes sent shivers down his spine. They almost spoke to America as though they said, 'I am seriously ticked off right now.' She had him cornered with no way of running.

"I…" America tried his best to pick the words carefully, but only parts of certain words came out of his dry mouth, making it inaudible for the rest to comprehend. All the while America tried to explain the disastrous pickle he brought on his friends and possibly the entire world, the countries for a split second forgot about the other person in the room, the one they thought was unconscious on the floor. But she wasn't out cold. In fact, she never was in the first place. The woman played the part so the others in the room would let their guard down, therefore, giving her the opportune moment to strike.

Before America regained the ability to form a complete sentence to begin his storytelling, he saw a blurred figure move at the speed of light behind Mexico. A chill of horror shot through his entire body. It made him paralyzed as well as England, France, and Canada who stood side by side one another. They witnessed the attack head on. Spain, who was next to Mexico, did not see the assault on his former colony. From the corner of his green eye, he saw arms wrap around her body searching for a position to lock on. One white arm reached for Mexico's throat, an attempt to strangle her. But Spain knew better. He raised her and knew the blood that ran through her veins; he saw the fierce warrior inside Mexico in times of great danger. It was like witnessing the revival of the Aztec Empire.

Mexico ran backwards toward one of her walls, slamming the woman's body in between. It weakened the woman's grip on Mexico for a second. It was a moment not wasted. The crazed woman noticed the tumbling glass vase on the table near where she was. She grabbed it and used the wall to break it into countless pieces. Then, she grabbed one and pushed it against Mexico's throat. The country was too slow in running away from her capturer. Mexico let out a small yelp as she felt a warm liquid run down her neck. The insane woman pushed the sharp edge too close but never inflicted great damage to Mexico… yet anyway.

Finally, after all this time, America got a good look at what he created. The woman's dark hair was out of her face, showing the America and the rest of the gang the true terror in both the woman's face and eyes. America could have sworn he looked at the face of death. He tightened his hands into a fist, hiding his trembles. Though he was scared beyond comprehension, America felt this unimaginable rage circulate through his whole body when the woman's lips formed a wicked grin. A glint of insanity showed in her eyes. There was nothing any of the five countries could do at this point. They had to wait until the woman to let her guard down in order for Mexico to get out safely. There was no telling what this thing was capable of or how heartless she truly was.

As much as she wanted to get out, Mexico knew better than to struggle. The glass blade pointed more at her throat with each breath she took. God knows, how deep the woman would puncture her skin if she tried to escape her grasp. Even if she wanted to take that risk, the woman held back Mexico's arms, making it impossible to move.

"Don't any of you move closer!" The woman demanded, holding the glass shard closer to Mexico's neck. "If you all even flinch the wrong way, I will kill her."

The need to protect Mexico rose in Spain. He had to do something for her even if she refused any help from him after her declaration of independence all those years ago. He did raise her like his own daughter after all just like it was with the rest of his colonies. Spain opened his mouth in order to persuade the woman, but he didn't have the chance to, seeing as the woman already had a cold, hard look on him. That was a reaction Spain did not get regularly, America observed. Usually woman (and the female countries) threw themselves at the Spaniard but not this one. She was different. Too different.

"Don't you dare come near me, you monster!" That was odd. The woman who was the embodiment of death itself criticized Spain being the fiend. Funny how the world works. Whenever she woman opened her mouth, Mexico always winced away from the opening. The smell of decay must have been revolting.

"Okay…" Spain put his hands up, showing the woman he had no plan to attack. "Please be gentle with her. She is like a daughter to me. You wouldn't want to destroy our family now, would you?"

"You know all about destroying family ties," Mexico's capturer hissed, inching the shard deeper into Mexico's throat. Mexico gasped in response, causing the others to panic. America was the one who almost jumped in to save the day, but instead he shouted…

"Mexico!"

A sudden spark of interest came upon the woman's face. At first she looked to Spain's worried and panicked face then at the country locked in her grip. The woman examined each feature on Mexico's tanned face as though the answers would just jump out. Mexico continued to avoid the woman's stench at all cost, but it was no use. The wicked one just pulled her in closer.

"What is your name, girl?" She asked in such a low hiss it made Mexico's skin crawl.

"Mexico," she said through clenched teeth.

"Your whole name," she ordered, making the other countries jump back.

Before she answered, Mexico gulped, which was noticeable to the other countries before her, and managed to look at the woman, leaving a deep impression on her. "My name is Mexico Tenochtitlan. Happy now?"

A cruel smirk formed on the woman's lips as though she had found out a deep dark secret or treasure lost to time very long ago. She leaned in closer to Mexico with her trademark wicked grin. Mexico felt the heat of her hot breath on her slim neck.

"Very much," said the woman before she yanked out a chunk of Mexico's dark brown hair. Mexico let out a hair-raising screech after the action was done. America saw the woman running out the door, leaving everyone in shock and horror. The American glanced at his friend Mexico. The female reached behind her head, rubbing the sensitive area for comfort. She hissed at the throbbing pain that radiated at the back of her head. Mexico retraced her hand and confirmed what she feared. She bled. Not much but enough to get Spain, who was already by her side, worried. America noticed the wooden bat on the floor and grabbed it in a swift movement as he ran out after her, hoping to end what he had created.

Unfortunately, the only thing that America saw outside of Mexico's house was a cold, dreary atmosphere that welcomed him with goose bumps on his arms. His breath was visible in the street lights. America looked around frantically, examining every shadow and movement that his blue eyes caught, but it was useless. The woman was gone. Where? To cause more mayhem or back to hell, he had no idea. The American rubbed his cold face with his free hand then hair as he muttered the word 'shit' under his breath over and over again. It was a habit he did when he had not a single clue of what to do. He just let loose a mad woman in the world and possibly created an enemy of the entire world.

"America!" He heard Mexico call out his name. The young man turned to see his friend in a frantic state. She of all of them deserved answers. "What the hell was that?"

America, feeling absolutely guilty, ignored his pride for once accepted that he was in deed in the wrong. The American walked back into the Mexican's house and escorted Mexico to a chair in her living room. Spain, who had no idea what was going on, felt compelled to know what happened. The odd woman had this obvious aggression towards him right from the get-go. The Spaniard sat on the arm of the chair Mexico sat in.

Canada, who was out of the loop once again, almost called the police, but France stopped him from dialing the numbers on the phone. The Frenchman told the Canadian to sit down and listen that everything will be explained soon enough. Canada did as he was told by his former guardian. Though, he kept to himself like he usually did, but France stood near him, reassuring the younger one that he was safe. Despite France being a borderline creep, he had good intentions deep down—really deep down.

England leaned against the wall, calming himself down from the previous event. He never said anything out loud, but he blamed himself for the entire thing. If he had better control over America, none of this would happen. That was what he forced himself to believe. After his inner battle, England stood next to America, ready to explain the current situation with the strange woman to attacked Mexico.

At first, there was a fierce surge of anger that pierced through Mexico's eyes to America when she heard what they did in the museum. Then, she became frightened when the three described the horrifying experience they endured. They left no detail out when they described the woman's resurrection. The noticeable sense of fear in Mexico's eyes and body language made a lump form in America's throat. He owed her big time for this. Mexico wanted to pound America to a bloody pulp for what he did, but it was obvious he was torn up about the whole thing as well.

On the other hand, Spain's reaction was a bit different from his past colony's. At the beginning when England mentioned what they found in the museum concerning the Spanish conquistadors, Spain's face had a hint of dread like a child had been caught in a lie by a strict parent. His green eyes flashed back to Mexico continually to see her reaction.

The only emotion Mexico showed was frustration. The female country rested her elbows on her legs as her hands covered her face. America sensed an unlimited amount of hate towards him as her brown eyes met his blue ones. Mexico leaned her back against the back of the chair, holding in as much aggravation as she possibly could. To the others, Mexico looked relaxed, but seeing as he lived next door to her for years—centuries—America knew better. It was only a matter of time until she exploded all over the place.

"So what you are telling me," she began, "is that a crazy woman is running around my city whom you so rightfully brought back from the dead in a museum in which you pretty much snuck into." Oh she was pissed beyond reason. The hate dripped from her words and tone. America was never going to hear the end of it.

"Well when you put it that way—"

"Dammit America!" Mexico shot up from her comfy seat in a rage. "You always do this to me! You always make fun of me. You and most of your citizens spread lies about how I screw up your lives and take your jobs. But I never, not once, do that to you! I always look the other way when you mess around my place and fool around with your annoying attitude! But not today! I'm sick of it. You pushed me too far this time!"

The feeling of shame just completely took over America at this point. He didn't want to hear the hurt she hid from the others in the room. "Look, I know I screwed everything up! You don't need to tell me that. I will fix this."

"How?" Mexico was on the verge of screaming her lungs out. "Do you have the slightest idea of stopping what you started? No you don't. And you know why? It's because you don't have the mental capacity to remember what you did yesterday."

"What are you talking about?" The comment stung America deep in his core like feeling a giant bee sting to the heart.

"Honestly, Mexico, don't you think you are being a bit standoffish?" And here came England like a knight in shining armor to aid America in the hot spot. "I mean, yes, America is a twat on many levels, but—"

Mexico didn't want to hear any objections. "England, right now, you and Canada are the only ones in the room I put up with. I won't allow France anywhere near me –right now is an exception-, and Spain can't take the hint of me not wanting him around even though I avoid him like the plague. So if you want to stay on my good side, please let me scold America for a while longer."

Damn that itch to make sure his colony (former or not) was safe and secure. England just went straight in once again. "Yes, yes, I know how you feel. I've been in your position many times before, but with all due respect, America doesn't deserve this. He doesn't learn by scolding. I know that from experience."

By this time Mexico faced England as well as the rest of the countries in the room, leaving her back to America. Mexico looked over her shoulder to her neighbor. "America, remember when you begged me to teach you Spanish?"

"—I never begged—"

"America!"

"Yes!"

"Do you remember how that day went?"

"Uh… Let's see…" America thought back all those moons ago. It was a bit hazy but the country remembered it for the most part. "We started for -I don't know how long—then I got hungry. I suggested Taco Bell to be festive for the occasion even though you refused to eat any of it. I even afford to pay for your lunch. Anyways, after I got food, we got back and—"

"And," Mexico interjected, "you gave up. What phrases did you learn after two hours?"

America perked up for some reason the others weren't quite sure why. "Soy America! Soy un hero!" He seemed proud by his words even though it reeked of a horrible white accent.

Spain, who wasn't really close to America or the conversation, facepalmed at the boy's sad attempt at his beautiful language. Although France and England weren't the most fluent ones in Spanish –especially England, who vowed to stay away from his nemesis's language by all means —knew or had a feeling the American was far from correct. As for Canada, it was apparent his brother was wrong. After seeing everyone's reactions to his words, America's wide grin faded away, leaving him feeling very sheepish.

"And he doesn't have the decency to say that correctly," said Mexico as she rubbed her fingertips against her temples.

"I have no idea what me knowing Spanish as to do with this whole thing, but I told you I'll make everything better," America's voice sounded stern with no hints of joking unlike before. America's eyes surveyed everyone in the room. They all had doubt in him once again. "Hey, what's with you all? We can do this! Lookie here," America wrapped his arm around England's shoulder though to England it felt like he was being strangled. The American's other arm reached out to Spain. "We have the former British and Spanish Empire—"

"FORMER?" Both England and Spain howled. They didn't like that word 'former' at all. No way was a snot nose kid of a country going to talk like that to them in their presence.

"I'll have you know-"

"Oh the details! They don't matter! Just hear me out for a second," America interrupted to avoid another mess he caused, "We have you and Spain, two amazingly, strong empires who were at their highest peak some point in history," (England scoffed at the remark, but it was better than being belittled) "and, of course, there is me, America!" The rest rolled their eyes. There America goes on his hero tangent once again. The American dashed to Mexico's side. She instinctively gravitated away from him, but he held her by his side. Curse his superhuman strength, she thought. "And we have you my dear friend!"

"Me?" America's statement caught Mexico off guard. It flattered her too, but she couldn't let America notice her reaction. "Why are you bringing me into this?"

"'Cause this is your home, and I'm 99.9% sure you want it safe. Plus, you must have a better idea about what's going on here, am I right?"

"I suppose." Mexico's brown eyes caught a sticker of some sort sticking on the outside of America's jacket. Mexico's quick reach toward his waist made the American squirm backwards unlike Mexico, who was unaware of how uncomfortable she made him for a brief moment in time. Afterwards, America realized that Mexico just reached for the sticky note he found in the museum earlier that night. The woman took it and read the writing. "Nahual…?"

"Yeah, I found it before all this craziness started. I wasn't sure what it meant." America scratched the back of his head due to embarrassment. "—you have any idea what it is?" Mexico continued to gaze at the piece of paper, but it was clear to everyone else that she hadn't the slightest idea of what it meant. Spain and America were the only ones who knew how bad Mexico's memory was or were aware of its extent. They knew she could not remember her childhood before Spain took care of her. It was a sad thought, but everyone figured she was just too little to remember anything in her young state. Besides, no one bothered to ask Mexico about her past. Whether it did not cross their minds or they just flat out didn't care in the slightest way, America did not know for sure. America, who stood in front of his friend, noticed her predicament instantly. He sighed and said, "Look, if you don't know, we can search for it in a library or some—"

"—witch," Mexico cut off her neighbor, "If I'm not mistaken, it means 'witch,' but there is more to it. I just can't remember the last bit."

"Let me see it," Spain spoke up finally. The Spaniard hadn't made his voice known since the strange woman scared them all. Spain took the paper from Mexico and examined it as well. Judging by the look on America's face, he did not expect much out of Spain. If Mexico was not sure of the word's meaning, why would Spain of all people know it? A few moments later, Spain looked at Mexico with a worried face. "It is a shape shifting witch," the man stated. The countries in the room left a shockwave of fear release through the entire house. They had another difficult obstacle to endure.

They looked worried. Mexico covered her open mouth with both of her hands. Her dark eyes still showed her true emotion of terror. A part of her cursed at herself for not knowing the urgency of the word sooner.

"No way! You've got to be kidding me," America was in denial. He refused to hear the word 'witch' or anything else associated with it. No way would a hero allow an evil witch to walk the earth. "Witchcraft doesn't exist! I should know. Remember the Salem Witch Trials all those centuries ago? It was all a lie some girls made up. And how did you of all people know what that word meant, Spain?" America sounded more aggravated then he truly was. His question was more like a demand.

"I have my reasons," Spain began, "I practically raised Mexico, and I had to understand some of her language before she could learn mine."

"Her language…? You mean you didn't speak Spanish the whole time, Mexico?" The fact that Spain and Mexico was located on two opposing sides of the world map never registered to America.

Mexico scoffed and folded her arms across her chest before adding, "Of course not! I was very young at the time, but I knew Nahuatl."

"God bless you…?" To America, the word sounded like Mexico sneezed.

"I didn't sneeze dummy. That's my native language. Well… it was before Spanish became the prime one. My mother's language is almost gone now." A strange, awkward atmosphere came upon the two then the rest. Everyone looked up at Mexico to see if she would continue her statement while Spain fidgeted where he stood. America couldn't quite explain the feeling. It was like he stepped on a mine in the field of battle. Not everyone had a pleasant colonization period.

"Mother? You had a mom?" America seemed shocked by the word.

"SÍ," Mexico responded, noticing the dumbfounded faces of the rest, "She was the Aztec Empire. What's so weird about that?"

America's jaw dropped. He never imagined putting the pieces together. This was mind-blowing news to him. "Let me get this straight. Your mom was this badass empire? What happened to you?"

"Excuse me?" America and Mexico's argument escalated to the point of where the rest of the countries in the room hadn't the slightest idea of what insults they shouted at one another. Canada was use to this as was everyone, but France, Spain, and England only saw them during World Meetings. Canada saw them at it more often since they did make up the continent North America.

Mexico began yell Spanish slurs at America, who raised his volume up a few notches as well. This left England with a painful headache. To avoid his headache from growing worse, he kept thinking about how to stop the monster by replaying scenes in his head of the earlier events, drowning out the yells in the room. One he focused on more than the rest. He recalled when America read him and France the article about the Aztecs. His thoughts focused on what America read. A chilling feeling ran down his back once his mind comprehended what America said. If he was not mistaken, the phrase went along the lines of 'Spanish conquistadors defeated the Aztecs'. England's green eyes landed on Spain, who still looked out of place due to his clothing. If what England remembered was correct, Spain killed Mexico's mother. Unfortunately, England couldn't confront Spain right now. He had to deal with another fight raging in Mexico's living room.

The Englishman felt the need to be the rhyme and reason yet again. Heaven knows when the arguing between those two would actually stop. Sure, England had a few err—many disputes with France, but they always managed to stop, though, most of the time it ended in a physical brawl. But with America and Mexico… the verbal fight could last for hours and possibly days on end. England knew stopping them from continuing was in everybody's best interest.

"Now, now, calm yourselves you two," England broke up their verbal insults, "it's best to put our differences aside for the mean time, seeing as we all need each other in this appalling situation. I mean, France and I are a prime example. We can't stand being near each other for more than five minutes—"

"—seconds—" France corrected.

"Regardless, we are going to be civil to one another for as long as this circumstance America put us in lasts. I hope you two do the same."

"Fine," America and Mexico said in unison before they took a quick glance at the other. England sighed at the difficult task of making sure the two would not go at it like cats and dogs.

"Anyone 'ave the slightest idea of 'ow were going t stop zis woman?"

"She can't have gone too far," England said looking like he was formulating a plan on the spot. "Assuming she is an Aztec—"

"Why are you assuming that?" America asked, breaking England's concentration.

"She resurrected in an old Aztec temple and screamed when she saw Spain; therefore, I'm presuming she was around when Spain began his conquest," answered England with a hint of annoyance.

"—that makes sense," America grumbled, feeling like an idiot.

"Now if I remember correctly, the Spanish Conquest began in 1521," England searched for Spain before saying, "am I right, Spain?"

"SÍ."

"That's approximately four hundred and ninety years in between now and then." England paced back and forth in Mexico's living room as though he tried to decipher his own words. "Can I guess that a lot has changed since the two dates?"

"Actually," Mexico spoke up, "Mexico City is where Tenochtitlan once stood. Most of what my mother built is replaced with what we now know as Mexico City. That's where my name comes from, Mexico Tenochtitlan."

A prickling pain came upon England. He was appalled by the conditions Mexico grew up with. Granted, he may not have been the best caretaker –just take a look at America—but England made sure all of his colonies were safe and well taken care after.

"—this is the plan, guys," America spoke up once again. England lost focused on this thought; though, it stood in the back of his mind. "If that monster doesn't know where she is going, then she is gonna go back to a place she is familiar with. The museum!" The others had blank, unconvinced faces when they looked at America. "Just hear me out for a minute! Mexico said Tenocht-something has been replaced. That chick doesn't know the modern world so she is probably hiding out until she figures out where she is."

"America does have a point." Everyone's head turned in surprise to Mexico, the one who spoke. "We have the advantage right now so let's make the most of it!"

"Wait hold on just a second," America rebuffed, "no way in hell are you going to become a part of this Mexico!"

"Maybe you should have thought of my safety as well as the rest of my citizens when you purposefully refused to listen to directions." The comment easily shut up America. She was right. She usually was. "I am going to protect my land and people, and I'll be damned if I let you stop me, America."

The intensity in Mexico's eyes scared America, but he also admired it. She was a fierce competitor and took shit from no one. That was why he grew attached to her and managed to keep a close friendship. But his pride got in the way once again; he didn't want Mexico to know about his feelings so he acted aloof like he usually did. "Fine but if I hear you complain even once I won't let you live it down. Got it?"

"Like I would ever give you the pleasure in doing that!"

I would have added much more, but that would have been a really super long chapter. Forgive me for making the Empires' appearance so cliffhanger-ish.

I kinda based Mexico off of what my experience is with Mexican people like family and friends as well as myself. I think she would be this headstrong person because she kind of has to be. I mean America is her freakin' neighbor. So you have to be on it every second of every day.