England sighed unhappy to even be waiting out side the frog's house. They have been waiting for over 15 minutes due to America's stubbornness. If the old man hasn't answered yet then he is never going to answer. Not that England has been over enough times to know.
"America, enough he is not going to come to the door." England turned to America with a face that was half weary and half scolding.
"Then let's just go in!" America reached for the door handle finding it unlocked. The door swung open for them both to walk in. America shut the door behind them. England had this uneasy feeling creep up his spine once the door shut. He could feel that something was not right. The first being that he figured France would lock his door since he values many items in his house. They walked about the living room. Nothing seemed even remotely disturbed. There was nothing to suggest that Britain's feeling was correct.
"Huh, kinda creepy don't ya think?" Apparently America felt the same chill England did. "Let's go to the kitchen. He's more than likely to be there."
The kitchen was not like the living room the place was a mess. It looked as though France just up and left what he was cooking and never bothered to come back. That was definitely up there on the suspicious list for England.
"Hey, England, bro look at this! Is that a knife mark?" America pointed to a slash mark in the countertop. The mark was deep and looked very deliberate. Why would France ever damage his house? That made no sense, so he opted to go and check out France's bedroom to look for any other signs of where he went.
The bedroom was in even worse shape. The covers and sheets were torn apart, the pillows looking as if they exploded, and furniture was over turned. England went up to a wall. The wall had the same slash mark from before. This time it was deeper. There was also a dark spot near a particularly deep slash. He leaned in closer to see what it was.
"Blood! Lots of Blood! England!" England moved swiftly to where America was in the room. There was no other was to describe it but what America had said. Large blood splatters were on the floor that led to what looked like a pool of it. England's warning bells in head were on fire. France had a struggle of some kind but with whom was very much a mystery.
"Whose blood is it?" America crouched down to it. As if he could tell just by looking at it.
"Could be any one's."
CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP!
The sound was coming from under a sheet near the blood. America carefully pulled the cover off. There was a tiny little white puffball of feathers. England knew who the puff was.
"Pierre? What are you doing there? Where is Francis?" Pierre flew up onto England's shoulder. Luckily the little bird was unharmed. The thing cocked his head.
CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP!
"Alright, alright no need to chirp my bloody ear off." England though was still at a loss since he didn't speak bird. He glanced over to America who shrugged and turned and walked out of the room. England followed him out of the house locking the door behind him with Pierre still perched on his shoulder.
"Well, what happened, England?" America spoke to himself as much as he spoke to England.
"That, America, is the question of the century." He stated while looking down into Pierre's fluffy face. England guessed that it was time to go on a quest to find France. Though he could do with the bit of peace France being gone would give him. Yet, he know that if something horrible did happen to France England wouldn't forgive himself.
France's vision was foggy and pain pounded on his head. He felt warm liquid below his hand. He remembered that he was in a fight with someone but the face of who was escaping him. He did remember it went so far as to make him draw out his sword. Everything else was like a huge ball of cotton.
"Hold on, amigo. The cavalry is coming soon." Came a soothing male voice. Calmed for the moment France did as he was told. He laid his head back down, closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Oops sorry this chapter was a bit short.