Black or White 10
England stared wide eyed at where the red head had disappeared. The whole scene seemed overly violent; like either someone had purposely broken the room or there was a struggle. He glanced around the room wildly. Where was his brother? The room was clearly devoid of the red head but there was no way he could have left.
He was brain dead for a start!
Then there was the fact he had not exited via the door, as someone would have seen. The only other possible exit was the window but it was locked shut.
Though a worrying spider web like series of cracks had spread through out the panes. Blood trickled from the centre of the web but the smashed glass had remained in place. No one had left through that window; though someone had probably punched it.
People were speaking around him but all he heard was a light buzz. It was only when a nurse forcefully pulled him from the mess that his senses returned to him. He turned to the female, his eyes feeling too wide. He felt terrified. She looked worried as well, already talking though the blonde had missed the start. "~fraid that your brother may have been taken. You need to return to your ro~" He tuned her out after that.
Taken? His first though had been that his older brother had just merely walked out. It wasn't uncommon of him. The blonde remembered that the man would always leave rather than stick around after being beaten down. The worse recent case of this fleeing was after the bar fight between Scotland and America in April.
A pride thing, Arthur assumed.
England still had trouble believing that the man had been basically kidnapped.
The nurse had left him sometime during his turbulent thoughts. It was only after he realised the nurse had left, that he also realised he had remembered the last 18th of April fiasco.
Another memory.
He shivered from a imaginary chill and spun on his heels.
It was there again.
The presence of violently green eyes, staring right through him. He edged away from the room, glancing around for the eyes or the person who owned them.
This was worse than before!
He tried to move steadily.
The phrase 'If you act like prey and run away, they will act like predators and chase you.' seemed quite important for some reason. The thought spurred a memory.
England sat on a tree stump, his teenage body lanky and sore all over. An elf named Roe was bandaging a large claw scratch on his arm. As he wrapped the cloth, he scolded the young blond.
"England, how many times has the Queen told you not to approach the Unseelie court! And how many times have we all told you how to act around them! Run and they will chase! Flee and they will hunt you down! It is their nature!" The elf gave a harsh tug on the bandage to tighten it some more.
"No matter what, you must act calm and unafraid or else they will attack! If you act like prey, they will act like predators!" The teenaged England nodded, sniffing slightly from the tears. He remembered being relieved that someone had found him and protected him from the Black Angus who had been chasing him, snarling and growling as it slashed out.
The memory had come very suddenly and surprised him. The blonde gulped, remembering the feeling of terror as the creature closed in on his fleeing past self. The feeling and fear of being hunted. It was the same now, though he was older and attempting to follow the advice of being calm and confident. He knew it was silly. However the feeling of being hunted wouldn't leave him.
A large shadow suddenly moved at the corner of his vision and his resolve shattered.
And not because the nurse had ordered him or because his brother had disappeared or because he was tired and wanted to go to bed, but because he felt like something was stalking him, he turned and ran for his room. It was childish to believe that being in his room will protect him but the urge to return to the illusionary haven was overpowering.
He felt restless and nervous as he darted from the ward. He looked in the direction of his ward, realising he would have to pass through unlit hallways which seemed much more dangerous and ominous than before.
His mind screamed at him to not go down it.
It also screamed not to look back.
It screamed for him to keep running from this unseen enemy.
His mind just screamed.
'AHHHHHHHHHH!'
He gulped, closing his eyes briefly as he turned and begin to run down one of the unlit corridors. The blackness was squeezing in on him. His eyes opened and he felt like the darkness was trying to choke him.
He skidded to a stop suddenly as something glinted just down the corridor from him. There was a humanoid figure in front of him, hidden mainly by the blackness.
The glint came again.
The person in front of the blond was holding something sharp, shiny and probably metal. The light it reflected was dull in the dark corridor due to the light source being far away at the other end of the hallway. The sharp object moved slightly, bouncing another ray of light. It didn't look like a very big object.
England looked from the thing to examine the being holding it. He wanted to know what his chaser's intention was and assess how threatening the person was acting. It became clear by the silhouette that it was a man. However the more England squinted through the darkness, the less sure he was of the man's build. At first he had appeared quite tall and board shouldered but now…
The edges were somehow blurring.
One minute he seemed taller than the blonde and the next, the blonde was looking down on him. The man's head lulled slightly which alerted England to the fact this man had his eyes completely shut. Was he sleep walking?
The man's outline shimmered again and the hand holding the sharp object twitched. Another mental image of an memory came.
England was holding a small metal rod with a sharp blade on the end. It was a scalpel.
Meanwhile, wood, water and explosions sprayed up around him as a battle raged on. He could feel sweat trickling down his face, his uniform torn from sharpel shards and other bullets. He was trying to save this man's life with just a basic medical scalpel.
However the stubborn man just batted him and the surgeon away, saying he is fated to die soon from the grave injury. Instead he ordered for lemonade and watered wine after complaining about being too hot and thirsty. The surgeon fanned him now as sweat began to form on his forehead.
The blonde once again, tried to reason with the dying man. If he could just somehow remove the bullet from his spine...
The scalpel was taken gently from him by weak hands. The man smiled, his one eye looking kind yet unwavering.
"You can do nothing for me. I have but a short time to live. My back is shot through." He said.
As the battle raged on above deck, the man continued giving orders, occasionally demanding for a man named Hardy.
About a hour later, Admiral Nelson died.
The memory faded away.
However he could now recognised the dangerous object in the man's hand.
A scalpel.
Probably stolen from the hospital when the staff were distracted by Scotland's disappearance. The thought of his brother made something click in his mind. Though, the man's form seemed to be favouring the shorter shape more and more now, when he did return to his original taller state, he did look a lot like the missing red head.
The man had looked up slightly now as if hearing his thoughts. It felt like he was staring right through England despite having his eyes being shut.
The colour of his hair was near impossible to distinguish in the low lighting. However it did almost look like it was shifting shades slightly along with his form.
England gulped taking a small step back.
This man was dangerous said his instincts.
This man could be Scotland said his hopeful side.
This man is slowly bringing back you memories said his mind in the back ground.
And it was true.
Flashes of history that would be impossible for a human to remember were starting to tickle out of his subconscious, making his head ache slightly. As England started a second step back, the man smiled and the blonde froze.
It was terrifying.
The scalpel wielding man standing in the middle of a dark corridor was grinning ear to ear manically, his teeth flashing in the darkness. And it wasn't just any grin. It was an all too familiar one. And it scared him.
Only two smiles have ever actually scared him. One was Russia's who strangely innocent yet tense smile addled with the angry and murderous purple aura that sometimes oozed from it. He shuddered mentally at the new memory.
However it paled to this horribly familiar smile that belonged to someone very close to him.
Scotland.
And the grin itself was terrifying - wide, pointed teeth showing menacingly, cruel looking and straight out of a horror slasher film. North Ireland had once rightly dubbed it 'Scotland's Slasher Smile' he remember casually in the back of his mind.
The sinister smirk seemed made for the red head's lips. His canine teeth were longer than a normal human's, not elongated enough to be compared to a vampire's or a wolf, but long enough that if he flashed a toothy grin, a few people would notice them. It gave him a demonic quality that was hard to replicate by ordinary people.
Adrenaline was pumping through England's veins now.
That smile was never good. It always, always led to something very terrible. Horrendous acts were done while the man wore that smile. Demon was a wholly appropriate word for Scotland when he smiled this way.
England felt frightened at the flood of memories that seemed to bubble from the image of that sadistic grin. And he felt very frightened for facing it again. Even if there was a possibility that this was not Scotland he was facing.
The changing form and height looked turbulent for a moment and the hair colour just could not settle. It rested for a couple of beats longer on the taller silhouette before fading to the shorter one again and staying there for longer. The moment that he was the taller one though, England's mind flitted to Scotland's figure again.
Was the man Scotland?
The smile certainly belong to him.
Without England's permission, a hush whispered softly fell from his half closed mouth at the thought of his missing brother.
"Scotland…"
Then the world shattered.
(A/N - Yeah, it must feel like I abandon my readers at times. Sorry about that but with my new job, I have hardly any time for anything anymore. They have been bundling on the hours which is delaying EVERYTHING!
I mean I go to work, then I get home and fall asleep immediately, only to wake up the next day to go straight back to work! My total free time in a day is about 20 minutes when I am getting ready for work! It's tiring but at least I make some money.
To be honest, this is not the complete chapter I had in mind. This chapter was going to be WAY longer and have way more plot but with my lack of time to even sit down and write, I have decided to split the chapter in two.
And also - To SarcasticCynicalNinja - I have started writing your one shot. I'm about half way through it by now but it still might take ages since I get one day off a week. And ss desperate as you get, I just don't have any real time to write. If you want, you can happily complain to my bosses. (Joking - please don't. My mum already almost got me fired!)
And - To MisakiArashi - I am so sorry but I have not even started your one-shot! I have planned it all out and stuff and I am very ready to write it but... Again my work is murdering my social life and writing time. Brutally. And without mercy.
I'm not going to say much about this chapter - I'll just let you guys interpret it however you want.
I will mention Scotland's teeth though. Nearly every picture I see him in, he has these cool canine teeth. Not too long like a vampire but longer than the norm. It can be perfectly normal to have slightly bigger teeth than average (just like having big hands or a big nose ect.) and to be honest I kinda think they suit Scotland's slightly animalistic nature. I mean I absolutely LOVE seeing pictures of Scotland grinning evilly. He has a perfect slasher grin! It's terrifyingly awesome!
So I added that here.
I also included some facts about Mr Admiral Nelson in the story. He was the perfect English man. On his death bed and he's still ordering people around and demanding for some lemonade.
A couple of reviews I want to shout out to -
Azure151 - Gah, you still remember the teapot! :D That made me happy. I loved him as this weird minor character. He will definitely be coming back btw.
Arenarceus - That is a deep theory actually. England creating a fake life and a fake world where he is Scotland. Just because he wanted to be the oldest. That is an amazing theory. And original too.
Set - Since you mentioned you are a quiet reader, I feel kinda nervous now. Like I might scar you back into hiding or something... I feel like I'm trying to not to scar a shy mouse away. Then I probably will and I will have to tempt you out with some cheese or a new chapter or something. NOT THAT YOUR A SHY MOUSE OR ANYTHING! I just have these weird mental images! Anyway - That's actually not the reason why I picked out your review (it's the reason why I'm nervous though).
I just loved your line of thought and questioning. And yeah I did just blow all those theories away. I'm pretty sure no one has any clue what is happening now. And Happy (late) Birthday to you too.
EDIT: You may have noticed that I designed and drew a cover for WABWAB. It kinda got me thinking as well... Has anyone drawn any fanart? Just curious. I would really, really love to see it! Please tell me!
And - Thanks to all the people who wished me a Happy Birthday!
And - Thanks for all the reviews!
I'll stop trolling you with my A/N and actually start on the second part of this chapter!
PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME ANY NEW THEORIES!)