Here...we...go!
Thanks to all those who reviewed! It made me feel happy inside...^^ So I'm writing! :D Hells, yeah, I've got my motivation back! I love all of you guys! *glomps all of you* This is why I am inspired to update daily...^^
Italy: Ve~!
And I started watching Hetalia World Series. I am a huge Hetalia fan, and I just now heard of it...*cue depression line thingies* – _-
Chapter 5: The Carnival, Part 2
America and England were shoved into the Haunted House before either one could protest, and the oddly familiar-looking engineer shut and locked the door behind him. England shivered. It was slightly colder here than it was outside. America looked around uneasily, shivering as well and zipping his bomber jacket all the way up again. England remembered that he was wearing a sweater, too, and buttoned it all the way up as well.
The two stood up, brushing off the dust that had gotten on their clothes. Various creepy noises filled the one hallway that stood before them, and it was very, very dark.
"No turning back now," the Brit sighed, taking a step forward, expecting America to follow suit. He was surprised when he didn't, and looked back. The so-called hero was leaning against the door, panting. "America? Are...are you alright?" England, whether he would admit it or not, was growing concerned as he turned around and walked back to the American.
The Brit walked up next to America and unconsciously paced a hand on his shoulder. "America? You're not scared, are you?"
America turned to his former mentor and saw the genuine concern in his eyes. "I..." America's mouth had run dry, and then, he smiled. "I'm-I'm fine." He scratched the back of his head and looked forward into the hallway. The American winced slightly. Slightly. But it was enough.
England grasped the hamburger-lover's hand, and, blushing, said, "I'm not doing this because-because I'm worried about you or anything!" He continued walking down the hallway, ignoring the creepy noises coming from just about every corner of the hall. "I just don't like it when you're sitting there looking all bloody depressed, okay? So-so don't get the wrong idea!" The younger, blue-eyed nation stared at the back of England's head, then laughed as he dragged him along.
Hands linked, they continued walking down the hallway.
"Hey, Iggy," America began. England looked over at him.
"Hm?"
"Didn't that engineer seem oddly–" The American was cut off when a rumbling sound was heard and the ground began shaking. "Waaah!" America squeezed England's hand tighter. "I'm scared!"
"You're scared? Take a bloody look at me, I'm fucking terrified!" England screamed as the rumbling got louder and more violent, then stopped. The two looked around and saw a white dot just behind them.
"Wha...?"
All of a sudden, the white dot seemed to be getting closer and closer, and then...
"OH MY GOD, IT'S A GHOST!"
"Move, you bloody idiot! Move!" England's words registered in America's mind and the two immediately shot down the hallway and burst through the first door they saw, shutting and locking it, panting.
The two looked at each other for a brief couple of seconds, then laughed. Hard.
"Well, that was..."
"Let's never talk about this again, agreed?"
"Agreed..."
America and England stood up and once again wiped the dust off of their clothes, when all of a sudden, the ghost that had been chasing them rammed its face against the window of the door that separated them randomly. America screamed loudly and England gasped. The ghost was, to put it simply, extremely grotesque. It was all white (what a cliche) and her face was twisted as if in some sort of severe pain. Her hair was messed up and all over the place.
"You...will...regret...coming into this hoouuuuuse!" She howled, and was gone in a puff of smoke. America blinked. England stared at the window.
"Are-are you...okay...Iggy?" America asked. The Brit was trembling, and immediately shook his head. "Iggy?" Said man suddenly burst into tears, and America widened his eyes in either shock, horror, or amusement. Maybe it was all three.
"England! England!" America ran up and grasped his shoulders. "Dude, get a hold of yourself! Are you okay?"
"God, that was terrifying!" the Englishman sobbed, wiping his tears with his sleeve. Then, he blinked. "Bloody hell, what was that?"
America sweat-dropped. "You...cried and started panicking...Uh, maybe it was a nervous breakdown?"
England flushed. "Really? Bugger. That," he sniffled, "has got to be the scariest thing that's ever happened to me in my life." America blinked.
"What, the ghost?"
"No, you idiot, the nervous breakdown thing!" England yelled. America blinked again, then laughed.
"Come on; we'd better get this over with as soon as possible. I don't want to embarrass myself like that!"
"Bloody git! It's not funny!"
~GuessingGame~
Canada took a bite out of his pink cotton candy and chewed thoughtfully. He wondered what exactly was going on in that Haunted House. God, his US/UK instincts told him that just about everything was happening in there, and he was missing it!
...Or maybe he was just being paranoid.
...Yeah, that had to be it.
Canada sighed and took another bite out of the fluffy pink "cloud". Suddenly, he felt a head on his shoulder and jumped slightly. He looked over to his right side, and, seeing the blonde mess of hair, sighed for the umpteenth time that day.
"France, go mope over your lack of yaoi somewhere else, eh," the Canadian said rather coldly, and it surprised him. Maybe the lack of yaoi was getting to him, too.
"Canada~?" France moaned, forehead still pressed into Canada's right shoulder.
"Yes, France?"
"Do you...," the Frenchman started, nervously, "do you like me?" This was wear Canada's shoulder came in handy, because the blonde pervert was blushing like mad. The Canadian blinked in surprise and looked down at him.
"Yeah," Canada responded. "Of course I do. We're like best friends."
France cursed mentally. Damn you and your innocence, you fucking adorable Canadian! "No, I mean...ah, forget it, mon ami. It is nothing." Canada looked down at the Frenchman and sighed once again.
"You're seriously very hard to read sometimes, France."
"Touche."
~GuessingGame~
America grabbed England's hand and held on tightly. England smiled lightly, his memory reeling back to a time when America was but a tiny tot, with big blue eyes, always squealing, "England~!" The Brit immersed himself in the memory for a bit before looking over at the American, who had just grabbed a hamburger from his pocket and began munching on it with his free hand. England sighed. Where did I go wrong? Ahn...my poor, lost, adorable little angel...
The two stopped walking when they came to a fork in the path. America blinked and shoved the hamburger back in his pocket, much to England's disgust. Seriously, where did I go wrong?
"Which way should we go, Iggy?" asked America, who seemed to be looking from one hallway to the other, trying to determine which one would be less scary. The Brit looked from one to the other. They both looked exactly the same, creepy noises, eerie lights and everything. England frowned in irritation.
"Um..."
"I know!" America released England's hand and pointed from one hallway to the other, seemingly mouthing something quietly. He stopped at the left hallway and smiled brightly. "Okay! Let's go through here, then!" England raised an eyebrow.
"How did you decide...?"
"I used the good, old-fashioned, eenie meenie method! Now come on, let's go!" America held out his hand, and the Brit reluctantly took it. He let out a sigh as the American led him down the hallway. America always came close to giving England heart attacks; it always felt like it at least. Though he wouldn't like to admit it, England's innocent, sweet, and adorable little angel had grown up into a strong nation. A bloody dashing one at that.
And England had fallen for him.
The Brit glared at the back of the hamburger-lover's head, as if willing him to stop being the dense idiot that he was and read the atmosphere for once.
But everyone knows that America couldn't read a situation if it slapped him in the face.
America and England were about half-way down the hallway when the rumbling began again.
"Oh, blast it all! Not this again!" England muttered, and America shivered.
"It's happening again, Iggy! That freaky ghost is back!" America shrieked. England gulped. If that was true, he wasn't looking forward to it. Just then, behind them, a wall abruptly fell in front of the hallway's entrance. The two English-speaking nations blinked. Then the wall sprouted sharp, barbed, silver points.
Needless to say, both America and England screamed this time as the wall came charging after them. The two tore down the hall, which seemed to get longer the more they ran.
"WHAT KIND OF FUCKING THEME PARK PUTS YOUR BLOODY LIFE AT RISK!" England screamed while running.
"ENGLAND! I HAVE COME TO A CONCLUSION!" America screamed over the screeching of the wall against the hallway.
"AND WHAT'S THAT!" England yelled between breaths, desperate to get away from the wall/killing-death machine.
"WE LIVE IN ONE SCREWED UP WORLD!" America shouted. England opened his mouth to reply when they both hit something. A wall? Oh, God...Who runs this park? The duo whirled around to find the barbed wall closing in one them.
America whimpered. "I don't want to die! At least, not like this!"
England pressed himself against the wall in a last, desperate chance to phase through it. Somehow it didn't work. "America, choose your last words wisely...," England whispered gravely as the wall came even closer.
America racked his brains. "Um! ~Oh, say, can you see~!"
"JUST DON'T SING YOUR BLOODY NATIONAL FUCKING ANTHEM, GODDAMMIT! WE'RE GOING TO DIE; SAY SOMETHING MEANINGFUL!" England screamed at the top of his lungs. The barbed wall came even closer, and, mere inches away, it hissed to a stop. The two nations slumped to the floor, out of breath and, quite frankly, freaked out.
But now they had another problem. They were stuck. In a small room, with a barbed wall in front of them, and another wall (not barbed, thank God) behind them. What were they going to do now?
England let out a breathy sigh. "I cannot believe this is happening. First a distorted ghost girl comes and tells me I'm going to regret living my life, and now a fucking wall just attempted to murder me. A wall." England continued to mumble on and on.
America sat staring at his former mentor, who was cursing the wall, the ghosts, and whoever worked at this "damned carnival" to high hell. And without noticing anything, the American began laughing.
Iggy stopped rambling on and on for a second to look at him. "W-what?"
America wiped a tear from his eye. "Sorry, sorry! You're just...so funny...hehe..." The American continued laughing and the Englishman, unbeknownst to himself, smiled and started laughing with him. As their laughter died down, America sighed.
"Now what," he said. It was a statement, not a question, as he stared up at the barbed, dangerous wall merely inches from his face, as if at any moment it would lunge and try to rip them to shreds again.
England shrugged. "I honestly don't know."
The two sat in silence for a while. America leaned back against the wall, and every few seconds, stole a glance towards England. The Brit sighed.
"America, if you have something to tell me, just say it," he said. America beamed.
"You sure?"
"Yes," England replied with a roll of his eyes, "I'm sure."America then twiddled his thumbs.
"I know you don't want to tell me who you're in love with," America began, looking out into the distance, "but could you...at the very least...tell me about him or her?" The American felt sick to his stomach at the thought of it being anyone. He quickly brushed the thought off, though. "Please?"
England's eyes softened and sighed, leaning against the wall behind them as well and staring uneasily at the barbed wall ahead of them. "You never give up, do you," he breathed. America turned to England, who furrowed his eyebrows at the younger, blue-eyed nation before sighing again. "I suppose there is no harm in telling you about him. Just no facial or physical features, okay?"
America smiled widely. "Sure!" Yesss!
England leaned back and closed his eyes. "He's extremely kind. Too kind, if you ask me, the exact opposite of myself. He's got the instinct to leap without looking, to help without expecting anything in return. Sure, he's an around-the-clock idiot, but he's also...he's also...," the Brit paused to collect himself, then smiling, said, "...absolutely obnoxious. But I guess that's what I love about him. He's got a massive ego, one so large that it could fill an entire room with its largeness if egos could be objects, and he always..."
England opened his eyes to stare at America, who was listening intently and–was that a note pad in his hands?–paused to collect himself. America nodded for the Brit to go on.
Iggy, unknowingly, had moved his hand onto America's. "...sees right through me, whenever I try to hide anything. If I'm sad and hiding behind a veneer of anger, he'll know it in an instant. If I'm depressed and acting like I'm happy, he knows."America looked down at England's hand over his, and widened his eyes slightly.
"Um, Iggy?"
England paused. "Yes?"
"Your...hand...um," America pointed downward with his pen, and England quickly retracted.
"Sorry," England sighed. America smiled.
"No problem! I know you're scared; you can hold my hand anytime!" England fell over anime-style. Stupid! You can't read the atmosphere at all!
America happily finished scribbling in his notes. Then he turned to England.
"Hey, can I ask a question about him?" the American asked. England cocked an eyebrow.
"It depends," he answered.
"Okay, well," America couldn't stop himself from asking. It was as if a new kind of force had taken over, and was making him ask this. "Does he tend to give up easily?"
The Brit chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, then smiled. "No," he answered. "Never."
America smiled and jotted that down on his note pad too before chucking it into a random pocket of his bomber jacket. The American looked around, and noticed something.
"England!" America gasped, pointing. England turned in the direction that the other man was pointing in, and saw it. A vent, just big enough to crawl in.
"You have got to be kidding me," the Brit moaned, and America laughed.
"Only way out," he said, and pried the cover away quite easily. "Huh. Looks like this is a part of the set up. Let's go." America crawled through and looked behind. When he was sure England had gotten through (and returned the cover) America began crawling through until he saw an opening. He crawled faster, jumping out of the vent when he saw it. England jumped out, too, and the pair did not expect what met their eyes.
There were mirrors. Everywhere. And each one held a seriously gross version of themselves. America raised an eyebrow and smashed one of the mirrors.
"H-hey, don't do that; it's not–ah!" the last bit was directed to the mirror, which had somehow regenerated itself. America reeled back and hid behind England.
"I'm scared," he squeaked. England sighed, trying to ignore the grotesque images of themselves in the mirror.
"So how do we–?"
His voice was cut off when someone spoke. "Scared of your own reflection, are you...? Heheheheheeee...let's spice things up, shall we?" Then the room flashed red for a second, and the reflections were somehow out of the mirrors, heading towards them.
England and America sat in the middle of the room, trembling. "Seriously! When I get my hands on that engineer, I swear I will–!" America was interrupted when England began pulling him around in a desperate attempt to dodge the attacks thrown from, er...themselves. The Brit then caught sight of a broken mirror in the back, one that wasn't regenerating.
"There!" he shouted, and the two made a mad dash for the opening and jumped through, panting.
"I have...had...ugh, just...about...enough of this...nonsense!" England gasped, taking in huge gulps of air. America could only nod in response. The two got up and looked around, to find that they were in some sort of control room.
They turned around and their mouths hung agape as Russia, smiling and sweet as ever, pulled off his headphones and said, "Oh my. It seems you've found your way into my lair. I'm going to have to punish you two...kolkolkolkolkol..."
"THAT WAS YOU THIS ENTIRE TIME?"
~GuessingGame~
America and England exited the Haunted House from the back, and America sighed. "Man, am I glad to be out of there."
The Brit nodded. "Indeed. A Haunted House all under the control of Russia? I'm kind of surprised we made it out alive." America only nodded and smiled in agreement, then reached for his phone as it started ringing.
"Hello? Oh, hey, Japan," America greeted.
"How are you two?" the Japanese man asked. "Having fun?"
America smiled. "Uh, more like nearly got murdered in a haunted house that was run by Russia. Can you believe it? Russia."
Japan felt a vein pop out of his neck. I told him not to overdo it... "O-oh? Is that so...?" Japan asked.
America completely missed the venom dripping from the Japanese man's words. "Yeah! So what's with you?"
Japan shrugged on the other end. "Nothing much, really. Hungary-chan and I rode on a couple of rides and played a few games. The height of the excitement, however, was probably when Hungary beat Prussia-san up for kissing Austria-san, and slapped Austria-san for kissing him back," Japan laughed. "It was rather entertaining. You should have seen it. Austria claims he didn't kiss him back... but I saw it, and so did she. If that wasn't kissing him back, I don't know what is." Japan rambled, then stopped. Gah! I showed my yaoi fanboy side! He panicked, wondering what America would say, and trying to think up an excuse, when the American laughed on the other end.
"Ha ha! Must have ben funny! Well, Iggy and I are going to head over to the games. See you later," America chuckled. Japan sighed in relief.
"Alright," Japan said, hanging up. He inhaled, then exhaled slowly. "That boy really can't read a situation, can he?" Then, reaching for his cell phone once again, dialed France's number. He picked up on the fourth ring.
"France?"
"Oui?" came the Frenchman's reply.
"Your plan, surprisingly, has failed. I had much faith in it. It is alright, though," Japan said. "I have a new plan that I had thought up just in case this one failed." He paused.
"And neither you nor Canada are going to like it."
~GuessingGame~
America hummed softly to himself as he unlocked his hotel room and then plopped down onto the bed. Today had been a pretty fun day, if you cut out the Russia/Death House thing. The American pulled out his notepad and chuckled, feeling proud of himself. Maybe he could figure out who this person England loved so much was after all. The paper looked something like this:
Wednesday Investigation :D
In Ferris Wheel, England proved unbreakable once again. (Iggy, why do you have to be so cold? DX)
Haunted House–Gathered some useful information. *break dance*
1.) Subject is too kind and is the opposite of Iggy.
2.) Is an "around-the-clock idiot". (Who do I know that's like that? Hm...)
3.) Is obnoxious and has a big ego. (Now, I know that I know someone like that...come on, think...! *brain short-circuits*)
4.) Always sees right through him. (How...sweet. *twitches in agitation for some reason*)
5.) Doesn't give up easily. (Gah! No one comes to mind at all!)
Today's Conclusion–Could figure it out. Maybe.
America tossed the note pad to the floor and discarded his bomber jacket, lying on the bed for a while and trying to think of someone that fit that description. Thinking of nothing, he groaned and headed to the shower. I need to clear my head, the American thought. I don't think I know anyone like that!
Little did he know, he did. A little bit too well.
~GuessingGame~
Ow...my arm hurts. But! I liked this chapter. Sort of. Epic Russia is epic. And next time:
Japan unleashes a plan that literally takes everything up a notch. Like seriously. I'm not even going to lie. It involves Jealous!Canada and EvenMoreJealousNow! America. And some of you might want to kill me after you read the next chapter, so I'm just gonna hide behind this crate of tomatoes. *hides*
*pokes head back out* OH I FORGOT. AMERICA FINALLY GETS A CLUE. HA. HA. HA. *hides again*
England: *sigh* Stay tuned...*hides behind crate of tomatoes too*
Me: And I swear there will be more Franada next chapter...*sweatdrop*
