5

Three days passed. Three days and nothing happened. They held meetings to discuss the options, but nothing ever came up and they ended up going back to their rooms without a clue as to what had happened. Perhaps nothing more would happen? Maybe it was over, both simply accidents. The others seemed to think so, but England knew better.

There was nothing to do in that building. Nothing at all. Some of them had taken to raiding the kitchen periodically just to occupy their time and others stayed in their rooms to terrified that they would be killed to even go to the bathroom. If you passed by their rooms you might think they were dead al ready for the lack of noise. The only sign of life was a sign France had hung on his door the read "Orgy."

Earlier on Germany had told everyone that if they were to go anywhere they should go in groups of at least two or three. Just in case. But no one paid the new rule any attention and a few people could be found wandering about the halls or exploring by themselves.

England himself had decided to wander and had already made two complete circuits of the first and second floor all the while thinking hard about the murders. There didn't seem to be any connection between the two deaths and both had been killed using items at hand. Al that told him was that the killer was opportunistic meaning that the murders could come at any time and anywhere.

He glanced behind himself every few seconds until it had become almost a twitch. No one was ever there, but it still felt like there were eyes on him.

As he passed by France's room for the second time (or was it third?) the door opened and the Frenchman leaned out without any clothes that England could see. Instinctively he brought up an arm to block out the man's lower half and his train of thought came crashing to a halt, as did he.

"Bloody hell!" he cried. He cast an angry glare up at France. "Would you mind putting on some clothes? You may not know this, but some of us prefer not to see you in the nude."

France put on a hurt look but it didn't last long. "Ah, but l'Angleterre," he said with a smile. "Then how would anyone see this beautiful body?"

"Just please put some clothes on. There are children here for God's sake!"

"Hon hon hon. Come join the orgy and then I will be out of sight of them and we can-"

"Finish that sentence and I swear to God I'll get my sword."

France raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, leaning against the doorway with a smile. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

"I bet there's not even anyone in there with you," England said with a frown ignoring the comment.

"Non." The light disappeared from his face, but was quickly replaced with one slightly more mischievous. "But if you come in I am sure more will follow."

A shiver ran up the Brit's spine. "Not in your life. Now get out of the way." There was a sigh and the man disappeared closing the door behind him and leaving England alone in the hall again.

He continued to walk, his feet padding gently on the carpeted floor. Why did France have to be so… disgusting? Especially at a time like this with the killer so close at hand having already claimed two victims. He really couldn't stand the man. A thought wavered in his mind that France could be the killer, but he shoved it away quickly. There was no way a man like that would kill someone. At least not without raping them first.

He rounded a corner and down a set of stairs and back out into the lobby. The glass doors let in a small amount of graying light as the sun set on the other side of the building. All of the staff had been told to go home early and without a doubt told not to come back until this had been sorted out.

Idly, England went over to the doors and pulled at them. The frames clanged together, but held strong and refused to open. He knew they were locked. Of course he'd known, but still…

With a sigh he walked back across the lobby and to the stairwell on the other side. Even before he opened the doors the sound of shouting drifted out and he frowned. Inside the sound echoed off of concrete walls and he could make out the source. Somewhat.

One of the shouters he couldn't identify, but the other was definitely Germany and beyond the shouts where the unmistakable sounds of hands striking flesh painfully. England listened, trying to make out what they were saying and he stepped forward.

But as soon as his foot touched the step there came another sound. The bang of a gun. It was followed by a thud. And then another and another. Something hit the wall of the landing just above England and he rushed up the steps to meet it.

A body. That was clear, a body had fallen down the stairs and when England reached it he found it to be that of Germany, a single bullet wound oozing from his forehead and eyes staring up at the ceiling.

A door closed above him and England looked up. He hesitated, but only for a moment and then he charged up the steps and threw open the door. No one was in the hallway and he looked around at the doors angrily, his breathing ragged from excursion and fear. "Come out!" he shouted. "Show yourself!"

Every single door opened revealing nations with looks of varying curiosity. England looked at each of them, his breathing uncertain and his brow furrowed. Which one of you? He thought. Which one of you is a killer?

Hallo.

Welcome back to my wonderful world of murder. Such a fun game to play isn't it? I think so.

Blueraven1999: thanks for the review. And yeah I know, that would be incredibly obvious, but don't worry it isn't him. …Maybe.