The day I watched that documentary on eating fast food in America was the day I swore never again to partake in any more fast food for as long as I live. Yet, here I slouch, with a storm still raging outside, eating a Mcburger with a side of Mcfries and a Mcsoda while frantically tearing up my keyboard writing this story. My name is Tessa and I am a proud disciple of Alfred F. Jones. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoy typing it! This story will definitely end up being three or more chapters from now on. :)
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An Incident in June (Part 2)
"A . . . gun?" Liechtenstein whispered. "'Vhat is that doing here?" Liechtenstein moved her way to the door and refused to take her eyes off the weapon on her bed. She grabbed the doorknob and turned it slowly; her hands shook fiercely. A minute later, the door opened and out came a rather shaken-up Liechtenstein with a half-way zipped up bag over her shoulder.
"Ready, wait, are you okay?" He looked at her, very seriously. Something about her didn't seem right. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"No. Yes,I'm ready, 'Bruder." Liechtenstein smiled as she moved past Switzerland and began to walk away from her room. "Let's go now." He watched her leave the door to her room wide open and he wondered what made her so eager to walk down the hallway alone. He didn't speak to her about it and just followed, silently, behind. Her tiny figure walked at a very fast pace right in front of him at it was almost hard to follow after. The moonlight illuminated her blonde hair from the back and in that moment when nobody would see him, he smiled.
"Wait, you've missed it." He stopped and turned to face a tall door. "Come here, this is my room." He opened the door and motioned for her to get inside.
"Oh, I guess I've never been near your room before. I always 'tought it 'vas on the bottom floor." She went inside and took notice of how the room looked. It was a very large room that had to have been the biggest bedroom in the house. Two large patterned windows faced out into the gardens below and a large bed was placed right underneath the windows. A very large work desk full of papers was next to the bed. Switzerland must have use the desk for his work all the time thought Liechtenstein. A half-bath room and closet were located on the left side of the room, while a full fireplace and couch were to the right.
"Well, make yourself at home." Switzerland locked the door from the inside. "I'll light a few candles. You can sleep on that couch if you'd like." Liechtenstein smiled, walked over to the couch, and sat on it. The couch was fairly soft as she ran her fingers over it. She was surprised at how expensive it must have been. Normally Switzerland would never pay for such expensive furniture because he just loved to save his money. She laid her head down on a pillow that was on the couch and closed her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to get rid of it, the image of the gun on her bed burned its way into her mind. The image had imprinted itself on her eyelids whenever she closed them, and it made her legs feel weak. However much it scared her, she didn't say a word to Switzerland.
"May I use the half-bath?" She spoke as Switzerland lit a fifth candle and set it on an end table.
"Yeah." He kept his eyes focused on lighting the candles, as she got up and went into the small half-bath with her bag. She set it on the floor, unzipped it, and looked inside. There were two large pockets in the bag that enclosed everything she had taken from her room. In the largest one were her clothes, hair supplies, toothbrush, comb, and an extra candle. As soon as she changed clothes and fit into her nightgown, she shook her head and let her hair flop loose. It looked so messy and she suppressed a laugh as she bent down to pick up her hair comb. Her hand accidently slipped and she felt something small and cold in the second pocket in her bag. It was in the second pocket that she had put the gun.
Switzerland quickly covered the room in candles and had sat down on his bed. He had long since taken off his military uniform and boots and was now dressed in a long white-sleeved shirt with khaki pants and suspenders. His mind began to race. This had to have been the most awkward situation he'd ever been in. He was alone with Liechtenstein in a locked room with dozens of lighted candles and she was probably changing into her nightgown right now. He buried his face in his own hands.
Liechtenstein opened the door and felt rather exposed as she walked over to the couch and laid back down again. She melted into the softness of the couch and pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "Do you have a blanket?" He hadn't looked up, but he was forced too. Switzerland got up and ripped the blankets off his own bed. He walked over and flung them over the couch. She was completely buried and she puffed a quick thank you. He nodded professionally and walked into the half-bath. He was about to wash his face and take off his uniform when he stepped in something and looked down. He lifted his foot and saw sticky blue paint on the bottom of his sock. The paint was smeared in different places all over the floor. His heart began to race for what he thought was no reason at all. The paint that had smeared on the bottom of the bathroom floor and that had gotten on the bottom of his sock was of the same colour that he had planned to repaint the living room with in the upcoming week. He already had the paint cans ordered and they were last seen outside the house in the back shed in the gardens. He wondered how the paint could've smeared itself here if its proper place was supposed to be in the shed.
"Er.." Switzerland took no time putting his boots back on and threw his uniform top back on. He didn't bother to button it. "I'm going out." Liechtenstein bolted up.
"'Vhat!" Her green eyes were wide; she wore a nightgown that matched them, and her hair was messy. She was so beautiful.
"I just need to go to the back of the house. I'm going to the shed out back actually." He put his hands on the door. "You can keep it locked."
"NO!" She demanded. "If you're not here, I'm not safe. Remember?" She stood up and faced him. "Listen. I AM a big scardey cat, Vash. I am! I know I'm 'veak and pretty useless right now. That's 'vhy I need you, I'm dependent on you for trade, importation of goods, border protection, and love and I know I always 'vill be, so don't leave me!
Switzerland knew he hadn't heard what she had said correctly. Liechtenstein never raised her tiny voice and she never argued, and she would never confess anything strange like that out loud. That was just the way she operated.
"You can watch me from the window if you want." He opened and slammed the door shut despite Liechtenstein's solid order. He took the main staircase down to the foyer. He tried to be quick about getting into the garden so Liechtenstein could see where he was, but the mansion was so huge. It took him nearly five minutes to get to the kitchen and squeeze out the back door even while he sprinted at a high speed. But the moment he opened the door, he felt a chilling, deadly calm. The wind was completely gone and was replaced by a cold and very bitter chill. Switzerland shivered as he stepped off the stone porch and headed to the shed. The mansion got smaller and smaller as he walked farther away from it. It's magnificent Swiss design faded into pitch-black darkness that only the moon could help illuminate, but she didn't. The moon had long since hidden herself behind the same depressing clouds that had covered his country since Monday morning. Switzerland cursed, then rubbed his hands together to try to stay warm. He didn't look to see if Liechtenstein's tiny face was staring out the candle-light window.
Tall, mountainous hedges and flowers of all sorts dotted the never-ending gardens that housed a few small ponds and marble gazebo. Orchids, edelweiss and various vine plants stayed completely still as he passed them because they finally could take a break from being violently thrown about from the wind. He made his way past the tall grass and daffodils as he kept his sight set on the top of the shed. So many unanswered questions buzzed in his head. He had spent so much time working lately and he finally got to spend time with Liechtenstein, but he was disturbed so much by the fact that something was where it should've have been that he just got up and left. There was the slight possibility that it wasn't rage he was feeling and that it might have been fear. He walked by a large decorative flower patch and reached the door of the shed. He pulled it open with great force and the wood door slammed against the edge of the building. The paint cans were stacked unevenly in the corner and a few were tipped open. It was in that moment that he noticed the shed's only window was open, accompanied by a mess of spilled paint. In the midst of the spilled paint were a set of footprints that led to the window which sides were covered in blue paint.
Switzerland had deduced this much; someone had been or was currently on his property without his permission. He or she had been hiding in the shed, until very recently when they had accidentally gotten into the paint and then jumped out the window. He raced out the side and looked at where the window opened from the outside. A mess of dried blue paint made itself known all across the outside of the shed. He inched closer and took a look at it. With that much paint, there had to be a trail. Sure enough, he took notice of a few stray drops of paint that pointed in a direction behind the shed. Switzerland adjusted his uniform and followed the barely visible paint drops into the hedges behind the shed. He took extra caution since the kook might still be nearby.
There were times when he wasn't sure if he was on the trail or not because eventually the paint drops got smaller and smaller, but his determination kept him going. His keen solider eyes focused on anything blue against the green grass however faint it might be. The darkness poked fun at his sight and he rubbed his eyes often. Switzerland had just passed by some lilies when he noticed where the trail might be leading. He tried to swallow and moved closer to a large hedge fence. Just beyond the hedge fence was a long trail. The west side of the trail moved off the property and into the woods beyond, the east side of the trail lead straight to the mansion, and straight to Liechtenstein. He hastily unlocked the gate. His fingers fumbled in the cold air and he rubbed his hands together before trying to open the gate again. The gate unlocked this time and Switzerland peered out. A blotch of paint had been poured all over the stone path, and a bright blue arrow was drawn in the paint that pointed directly at the house. The paint still glistened brightly. It was fresh.
Whoever this maniac was, he was obviously toying with him. Switzerland dashed at high speed back to the house. This definitely wasn't a normal reckless teenager or an overly enthusiastic journalist. This person was a psycho and had thoroughly thought this through. Maybe this wasn't the first time he'd been in the house before and would account for why all the household objects mysteriously rearranged themselves. It was a long minute and a half when Switzerland reached the back of the mansion. He was nowhere near where he started when he left to go to the shed and if he had to guess he'd say he was right below the upstairs living room that he and Liechtenstein had been in earlier that day. The blue paint flecks continued along the side of the house and so did he. They stopped by an enormous pile of crates that rose high to the roof. Switzerland spent no time in climbing them until he too reached the roof.
The roof stretched far and was very steep, but Switzerland was skilled and he would not stop following the paint which was dotted here and there in a messy line across the roof. At one point in the chase, he fell down and nearly slid off the roof, but using all his strength, he hoisted himself up again and finally saw where the trail ended. The trail ended much like where it had begun. An open window messily lined with blue paint from the outside lead to Switzerland's worst nightmare. It was Liechtenstein's room. Blue paint was scattered across some parts of the floor, but it matched the carpet colouring so well, that you would have to squint to notice it. Two empty buckets of paint were partially covered by one of the bed's pink sheets that sloppily drooped to the floor. He slowly bent down and looked underneath the bed almost anticipating a mad, smiling face to be staring right at him, but instead he found a large mess of blue paint. Perhaps, whoever it was took enjoyment at hiding under the bed, because there was a note. Switzerland picked it up, he hadn't noticed, but he was out of breath. He mouthed what the note read.
YOU MISSED ME.
He opened the door to Liechtenstein's room and ran down the hallway back to his room. His muscles that had been overly-trained from long hours of practice on exercise finally gave way to a new type of fear. Now, the only paint that was on the floor were tiny smudges left by what looked like tiny feet and soon those smudges faded. The paint had to have gotten itself on Liechtenstein's shoe and bag when she was in her bedroom and had transferred itself into his half-bath when she went to change. That meant it was still fresh paint when she was in her room at least an hour ago. Whoever it was might still have been hiding under the bed while Liechtenstein was packing her bag and getting ready and when he wasn't with her. Whoever it was might still be in the house.