Title: Haunted Melody
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the Oc ghosties, that and the concept of the idea, but nothing else.
Warnings: See previous chapters. Also references to historical facts (World War Two, The Cold War, etc...)"
AN: Thank you for all the support on this fic, even though it isn't in reviews, but in follows, favorites, and such I am perfectly happy with that. I do hope you enjoy this chapter, and yes my other two fics will be updated sometime soon.
Chapter Five: Confrontations, More Files, and the Web Untangles Slightly
"Who was that Gilbert?" Francis asks, breaking the heavy silence that began to fill the room only moments ago.
The snowy haired man looked at his friend and answered in a whisper, "Alona Nuivitz, Prussian government spy, American nurse, and a good friend of mine. Alona always wore a smile, and was so dedicated to protecting her nation… she agreed to go undercover to reveal the truth of this place."
"Wait a second, she was a spy?" Alfred asks, playing the part of the fool but also stunned. He wanted to know how deep this ran and what that nurse discovered.
"She was. You think I didn't know everything that happened during the war or that was planned? I didn't trust any of you with my brother, not even his own boss, so I had spies placed in all the countries, and they reported to me. Though Alona failed to mention the killings…." Gilbert trails off, looking at the American who talked them into this crazy venture.
"Why are you looking at me like that? You think I'm behind the killings?" America asks, not liking how the Prussian looked at him.
"I'm not accusing you, or jumping to conclusions yet. I just want to know why is it France, England, and Canada seem to be on guard slightly with you. Why is it they seem to not want to upset you?" The Prussian asks looking at each nation he named which causes them to lower their eyes or look offended.
Before anything more can be said, the spirit box that they had used earlier turned on by itself causing white noise to fill the air. All the nations jumped slightly, and looked at the little black speaker device that they had left on the table in shock, confusion, and a hint of fear. Each nations blinks and looks at the others, all thinking one of them had to of turned it on, but they all knew that they couldn't have because none of them were near the box.
"W-who turned on the spirit box?" Matthew asks, his voice slightly shaking but a bit stronger than he thought possible.
"Relax Uncle Mattie! I did." The cheery voice of Saoirse chimed through, causing some of the nations to sigh in relief.
"What do you need to tell us?"
After a moment's pause she answers, "There's a file you need to read. It has to do with the death of Mark Corey, and yes Father he's the descendant of Giles and Martha Corey."
America pales, knowing that it was addressed to him and that he had killed a victim's descendant. Well, in his defense he didn't know any better; He was only trying to calm the bloodlust that came with the darkness within. The other nations look confused, except for Canada, England, France, Russia, and Prussia.
"So your father really is among the nations here Sao?" Canada asks, looking at his brother out of the corner of his eyes.
"Yes Uncle Mattie. Oh, and Mr. Gilbert." Saoirse answers sweetly, her cheery voice somehow lighting the hall they were standing in.
"What is it?"
"Be careful boy. He won't hesitate to kill ya like he did us, especially since Alona came so close to uncovering it all. She left the clear trail for you, and those who are you allies. Find it before he destroys you all." A male voice warns, shocking everyone as it was only Saoirse speaking moments ago.
Gilbert just nods, his jaw clenched tightly. He suspected as much, and wanted to talk with Ivan and Matthew, as they seemed to be the only two sane nations among the group besides Lovino.
And speaking of the devil… "Hold the fuck up." Lovino shouts, raising his hands in the universal stop sign. "Are you all seriously thinking that this is real? Look, I get ghosts are a thing, believe me Poveglia Island's ghosts scare the crap outta me and my brother, but are you seriously going to buy the fact that a nation killed his own people? That's fucking insane; I mean I know we've all killed in war, but never our own people. Hell, we're lucky if we ever see any action!"
"Yeah! Lovino's right! Even though I should be used to the dark souls that haunt the island, I'm terrified of them. Normally, I'm fine with the ghosts of my country, but this hospital is too much like Poveglia that I have every reason to be scared. Plus, the idea that a nation would do that to his own people…" The northern half of Italy chimes, his voice trailing off in sadness.
"Not a prank. Alfie boy means to kill again." The voice of Elijah states answering Lovino.
Before the spirits or anyone else can say anything more, Alfred turns off the spirit box and says in a rather calm voice, "Guys, we need to focus. Let's just look at the files that we found."
"He's right, we need more information." China says, startling the other nations as they had forgotten that he was present because he was so silent.
The others each grab a file, and with their flash lights look for any clues to any mysterious deaths that seemed to follow a trend that was forming. The nations have noticed that so far, in all the death recorded, the victims always mention the name, "Alfred" or some variation of it like "Al" or "Alfie". The information the all managed to gather was being written down in the small, neat, handwriting of Germany, the more flourished hand of England, and the cramp handwriting of Spain. The others continued to look through every file. The more they read, the more their flashlights shook with the various emotions that filled them as the read all of the horrible treatments and deaths.
"Al…" Francis speaks up; his blues eyes darkened with pain, and breaking the silence that has settled over the group once again.
"Hmm?" He acknowledges, raising his head up from the file he was looking at, his eyes appearing crimson before returning back to their normal sky blue.
"How could you let this place preform such…such atrocities? These were all innocent people!"
"Relax dude, those people weren't right. They got what they deserved." Alfred scoffs his voice sharp like a steel dagger.
"Oh? Then I suppose my people were just collateral damage because I 'refused to surrender' at the end of the war?" Japan asks his voice hard and slightly mocking.
"Well ya wouldn't! Besides, I was a total hero and saved you just like I saved this state from those people!" America declares, though his normally blue eyes turn an eerie blood red, and his voice takes on a sugared poison quality.
Several of the nations backed away from the files in shock, while Italy grabbed onto his brother in fear. All the nations were in shock by the outburst, but the under tones of insanity and the gleam in the American's eyes sent chills down their spines. Only a few nations have seen that particular look, and none of them ever wanted to see it again… Well, everyone that is except Russia.
Ivan loved it when Al got that look in his eyes. It meant that he was his true self, no longer hiding behind the mask of ignorance and stupidity. It was this Alfred that he did battle with during the Cold War, it was this Alfred that made the games that they played only that much more fun. None of the other nations, except maybe Prussia, knew that he and the American were still playing a very deadly game.
The winner of this game was to be the new super power of the world, in simpler terms; the nation who won controlled the world. If any nations or their people got hurt in the crossfire, well it was their own fault.
"Oh? So you choose now to reveal yourself?" The Russian asks innocently. Internally though, he was grinning from ear to ear as he remembered the lessons taught by Winter. He never thought that he would need them again, and so soon.
"Dude what are you talking about? Where the hell are we anyways?" Alfred questions, his eyes back to their normal blue color, his tone one of confusion.
"Nothing, America nothing." The Russian answers with a wave of his hand, internally frowning as he thought that his theory would've been proven to be true.
Things quickly return to somewhat normal, though the nations have to help Alfred for a bit to remind him of his idea and where they were. Some nations, mainly Russia, Prussia, Italia, Japan, and Canada were still on edge though. All of them thinking about what happened, and each of them wondering who America really was. Only Canada and Russia knew the truth, but they were left wondering what caused Al to lose it again.
"Right. Well, the groups will be as followed…" The American starts, but before he can say the groups a cold wind blew through the hall, carrying the scent of roses and rosemary with the sound of short piano melody.
The nations quickly follow the sound, and smell, bringing with them the files that they were going over. They shined their lights on sign above the oak wood double doors, and it stunned them how intact the sign was. They managed to make out the word 'Theater', and shivered as another cold wind blew through the room, this time strong enough to cause the door to slam open and allow the nations to enter.
"I really don't like this." Feliciano whispers, eyeing the theater with wide honey brown eyes.
"I know, but we have to find out what's going on. Even though this is clearly some sort of set up." Lovino whispers back, though the last part was much softer and not heard by his younger brother.
The group enters the theater, and goes to the very first row, but as soon as the last person of the group enters, the doors slam shut. When China tries to open the doors, he finds that they won't budge.
"Looks like we're trapped." Spain states, causing some nations to roll their eyes and others to get angry.
"I knew this was a set up! I fucking knew it!" Lovino exclaims his eyes narrowing as he looks at the seemingly clueless American.
"Gentlemen! Welcome to the show!" A bright voice chimes from the shadows, the nations being forced to stay seated in their seats by some unknown force.
The tattered velvet curtains rose, revealing a grim site. On the stage was a young woman, about twenty based on her appearance, dressed in a ragged blood stained hospital gown. Her hair looked like it had suffered from static electricity, and her eyes looked to be black holes. She was strapped to an old chair with belt like restraints. She was obviously struggling to break free.
"Please! Alfie! Stop!" She screams as she convolves like she had been shocked by the chair. It was clear that she was in pain.
"Relax Helen… You'll be free from its hold soon." A demonic velvety voice echoes from the shadows.
The figure steps into the light and the nations are stunned and slightly disappointed to see only the back of the figure. It proved the other ghosts right however, as it looked exactly like America, Germany, or England from behind. The figure approaches the ghost woman and the see a glint of silver, before a loud pop sounded, the smell of gun powder and blood filled the air, and a dark red stain began to appear on the woman's dress. She slumped in the chair, still bound, as her life vanished.
"As you can see, I was killed, and my killer was never caught. He now stands among you, and there is no hope. You will now feel the pain I felt before being shot, to remind you of your place mortals." A cruel voice giggles.
The nations scream loudly as the sudden shock entered their nerves. This continued for several minutes, though it felt like hours to the nations, until the weight lifted and they ran like bats out of hell out of the theater.
"As I was saying," Alfred stutters, "The groups are Prussia, Russia, Japan, and China who will take the Administrations Building. Germany, Spain, and both Italies, who will be taking the chapel and library. France, England, Canada, and I will take the Men's and Testing buildings."
None of the nations objected, and they all quickly took pictures of the map, up to twelve each, grabbed some of the gear, several files, and began to head their separate way. None of them knowing that they had encountered the ghost of Helen Bradlow, that her file had yet to be read, and that she was just one of the darker, more vengeful spirits that they would encounter.
If they had taken the time to read her file, they would have known how she had ties to the darker side of the occult, and that she was a mistress to the demons of the hospital.