WARNING! THIS IS NOT NORMAL HETALIA BOYS. These are their more violent and darker selves. Some Teen rated thing that might make sencitive viewers uncomfortable. Don't like don't read. If not, continue and enjoy:)

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America(Al/Allen Jones): You were home working when a knock came to your door. It was only two knocks but after so long in relative silence and concentration it sounded like two gunshots. You shot up, bumping some of your work off the table. You stood up, looking at the clock. It said nine at night and your phone hadn't rung, so you hadn't expected anyone. You walked to the door, phone clutched in your hand. You took a deep breath, opening the door. Out of nowhere something hit you on the head, knocking you out with a flash of white light and pain.

The first thing you noticed was that you were on some sort of grimy cushion and you were blindfolded. You sat up, reaching for the blindfold when something, or someone, caught your wrist. You gasped, trying not to shake.

"Easy there, Doll. I'm not exactly decent right now." A smooth voice whispered in your ear. You shivered, making the strange male chuckle and let go of your wrist. Despite the warning you reached up and ripped off the blindfold. You were in a warehouse-like room, grimy furniture sprawled out everywhere. But the biggest shock as the man in front of you wearing an aviator's jacket. His wore brown combat boots, blue jeans with a brown belt, white t-shirt covered with both old and new blood splatters and stains. He wore black leather gloves, red reflective shades covering his eyes, emotionless frown behind those glasses. You gasped, amazed that he looked so much like Alfred. He grinned as you

"Told ya not to look, Doll. I ain't exactly decent for a pretty girl to look at right now." He chuckled walking over to an old laundry basket of seemingly clean clothes, throwing off his jacket and throwing it over a rickety chair. You sat up, staring at the stranger in front of you. He didn't seem to care as he pulled his stained shirt over his head, reaching down for a similar white t-shirt. He was definitely built, muscle rippling with every move. You blushed, looking away.

"Didn't think the pork chop would pick such a prude. Hey, first time for everything." He said, pulling his other shirt over his head and picking up his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder. You looked up at him, glaring. He shrugged, leaning his hip against the rickety chair. "Shoulda figured. He's too much of a selfless idiot to pick any other type."

"How would you know?" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. He grinned and took off his glasses, revealing blood red eyes. He pulled the chair across the ground, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he sat backward on the chair; letting it tip precariously on two legs.

"I think I might know a little more than you, doll. Seeing how I'm Allen, the polar opposite of that pork chop Alfred. I mean, he has told you about me?" He grinned, showing you he was missing a tooth. You paused, trying to remember Alfred ever mentioning him. Al smiled, whistling a quick note. A large dog came bounding out of nowhere, barking loudly in the vast empty environment. You leaned back, a little nervous about the growling and barking dog that stared menacing at you. A patted it's head, quieting the dog and laughing.

"Easy there, buddy! She's a friend." He said, the dog relaxing and licking your hand, tail wagging happily from side to side. Al then shrugged his jacket on and picked up a bat with nails sticking out of it, resting his hand on the base; eyes glinting and grinning widly at you. "Guess he hasn't, the jerk. But he'll come soon." He pulled out a phone from his pocket, dial a number quickly and waiting, looking off into the distance lazily. "Hey, pork chop! Huh? The Doll? Yep, she's here and if ya want her back ya know where to find me." He hung up, grinning at you. "Looks like your hero is a little late on the uptake, doll. So it's just you and me..." His grinned widened, sending shivers down your spine. This was definitely Alred's opposite…

Germany(Lutz Beilschmidt):Today Ludwig had given you the day off from training because he had to hold an all day meeting at work and later with Feli. You were worried about him and planned on surprising him at work with a lunch you had packed. After you slept in an hour or two you got up, heading downstairs to make breakfast and lunch for Ludwig. You had just finished making dinner when a grunt caused you to turn to the couch, looking right at a pair of pale violet eyes. You jumped, not noticing him before.

"Shut up, mädchen. Jou're so loud zhat I can't even close mein eyes." He grumbled, flipping back on the couch and pulling down his gray cap over his eyes. You walked around the other side of the couch, hands on your hips and glaring down at the man lazily sleeping on the couch. He wore a gray striped tank top and black pants with multiple scars on his arms. He also had boots that went to the base of his knees with tight black laces. You stomped over to him, ripping off his cap.

"What the hell are you doing here? You can't-" You paused as he opened his eyes again, glaring at you. Your eyes widened as you realized that he looked exactly like Ludwig, except for his purplish pink eyes and a deep scar under his right eyes. You stared, trying to understand what was going on. The man sat up, leaning his face dangerously close to yours.

"Listen, mädchen. I really don't vant to get up or get mad so do jourself a favor and get me a beer." He growled, snatching his hat back and pulling it back down over his eyes and laying back down on the couch.

"Then I'm calling the police." You threatened, reaching for your phone and dialing. The stranger smirked and lifted his hat ever so slightly, purple eyes glinting as he held up your phone in his hand.

"Nice try but jou should know that as skilled as Ludwig is in physical combat and self-defense I'm better. But by all means go ahead and try." he held out the phone tauntingly, eyes daring you to go after the phone in his hand.

"How do you know Ludwig?" You asked, trying to see if there was another way to get help. Screaming? The man huffed and rolled his eyes.

"I'm his opposite side. Call me Lutz." He pulled out a gun, setting it on the table between the two of you. "And trust me, if he knew I vas here it vould be ugly. For jou." He stood up, leering at you. You back up, Lutz following you until your back hit the wall. You thought about all the self-defense techniques Ludwig taught you and got ready to use them. Lutz grinned and waved his hand.

"If jou vant to fight vith me, I should varn jou zhat I von't go easy on jou because jour a girl."He warned, cracking his knuckles. You glared, getting ready to fight back when the door opened. You and Lutz's heads snapped to the door, seeing a tired Ludwig coming through the door, rubbing his shoulder.

"Leibe? Could jou call Italy-" He paused, looking up at Lutz leering down over you and you looking at him, relieved. Ludwig straightened, hands balling into fists. "Jou. Get out." He growled, dropping his bag at the door and pulling his gloves tighter over hands. Your eyes widened as Lutz chuckled darkly.

"Vell, I don't vant to. So vhat are jou going to do about it?" He challenged, lazily leaning against the wall and pulling out a cigarette. You froze.

This could be very bad…

England(Oliver): You had called Arthur and asked if you could come over today for a day of tea and toast. He said he had to pick up a few things and he would be there but you could let yourself in. You thanked him, hanging up and driving to his house. You opened the door and was surprised that the house smelled like a bakery. You blinked in surprise, taking a deep breath. You walked farther into the house, finding a tray of freshly baked muffins. They looked delicious and baked perfectly, and not charcoal! You looked closer, noticing little colorful designs in them. You smiled, picking one up and smelling it. It was still really warm, so you figured that he was still here.

"Are these muffins for me?" You shouted through the house. A second later a reply came.

"Yes, go ahead and sit in the armchair and enjoy and I'll bring the tea to you, poppet," Arthur called from somewhere in the house. You narrowed your eyes in confusion. Poppet? When has he ever called me poppet? You thought, but the little treat in your hand was looking more and more delicious so you did as you were directed, sitting down in your armchair and nibbling at the muffin. It tasted even better than it looked!

"Arthur? Did you make these by yourself?" You asked, almost reveling in the wonderful taste of (your favorite flavor) melted in your mouth. There came a giggle and a pair of hands covered your eyes, causing you to pause.

"Of course, I did, poppet! But I'm not Arthur." A cold metal was pressed against your neck, one hand covering your eyes and the other holding a knife. You froze, too scared to even scream. There came another giggle as a chin rested against your shoulder. "I'm Oliver, someone that is very interested in you, Poppet. So tell me-" The knife shifted, now resting lazily against your collarbone. "How is the wanker treating you? Like a gentleman, I expect." He commented, removing his hand from over your eyes. There was some shifting and someone stood in front of you, grinning down at you sadisticly. He had insane, bright blue eyes, orangish blond hair stick up in odd places. He wore a light purple vest with a bright pink dress shirt underneath, flowing jeans that ended with a pair of brown dress shoes. He trailed the knife to your chin, noting your terrified expression and frowning.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Poppet! I didn't mean to scare you! I just thought you would want to see the knife I was going to give Arthur. You know, as a gift." He pulled the knife away, looking like a child caught in the wrong. After a moment you actually started to feel as if you had scared him, so pitiful his expression was. He slumped his shoulders and dropped the knife on the table, dragging his feet as he walked to the door, head bowed in shame. Your throat tightened, forgiving him for startling you.

"Wait!" You said, standing up. He paused, looking back at you like you were about to physically kick him out the door. You took a second to find the right words, biting your lip. "You-You can stay. Arthur said he would only be a few minutes and I guess it couldn't hurt..." As soon as you finished he brightened, straightening and beaming happily.

"You're too kind, poppet!" he shouted, running into your arms and hugging you. You stumbled back, surprised by this outburst. You patted his back, awkwardly, blushing. He pulled away after a moment, darting to the kitchen and bringing out the muffins. "Please, eat as many as you want!" He offered, looking up at you with awe. You paused, but then taking another one because they were just too delicious to pass up. As you began eating it, however, you began to feel strange. Your knees grew weak and your head began to pound. You collapsed into Oliver's arms, Who caught you and picked you up bridal style.

"There, there, Poppet. Everything's going to be alright. The muffins were made just for you…" He whispered, giggling and kissing just behind your ear. He stroked your hair gently, laying you down on the couch gently. "I hope you don't mind the anesthesia." His voice sounded muffled and far off, you're eyes closing as the drug pulled you under. Arthur… was your last thought as you succumbed to the drug.

Canada(Matt): Today you were hanging out at your job after closing hours alone, just making some finishing touches on the restaurant while you're parents were in an international breakfast festival in the States and you're brother was out with friends. The dining room dark and empty, the scene almost creepy but you weren't bothered. You cleaned up the last of the tables and put down the chairs for the next morning when the door opened. You looked at the time, frowning because no one was supposed to come in after nine. That was three hours ago and now a back-lit man stepping into the room, hands in his pockets.

"Um, we are closed right now. Please come back tomorrow and we will be happy to serve you then." You said nicely, growing nervous of the man in the doorway. The man huffed and pulled out a chair, shrugging off your request.

"Not really hungry right now. Just wanted to talk." His gruff, deep voice rumbled, leaning into the light. He wore brown hiking boots, baggy black pants with an open red and black flannel shirt with bandages across his chest, red sunglasses obscuring your view of his eyes. His blond hair was tied back in a messy ponytail. You blinked, shocked at how similar his face was to Matthew's. The only difference between them was the outfit and his broad shoulders.

"Um, not to be rude but why would you want to talk to me, sir?" You asked, putting down the chair and texting Matthiew. The man huffed and lifted his glasses, revealing violet eyes.

"Because I want to know why Matthew picked you, (Y/N)." He replied, leaning a hockey stick against the table. You froze, unsure of how to feel about this new information. The man held out his hand, which were large and well calloused from years of hard work and possible fighting. "Name is Matt. I'm Matthew's other, darker half you could say. And I ain't going to hurt ya, eh?" He said, rolling his eyes. You tentatively reached out your hand, shaking his hand. His hand completely engulfed yours, calloused hand rubbing against yours like sandpaper. "So, tell me about yourself." He asked, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. You sat across from him, hesitantly telling this complete stranger a synopsis of your life and who you are. Slowly, you began feeling more comfortable talking with him when you're phone went off. It was a text from Matthiew. You looked at it, eyes widening at what you were reading.

Maple, don't go anywhere. I'll be right there and explain everything-M. You looked up at Matt, frowning. He grinned, leaning forward.

"So little Matthew has decided to join us, eh?" He asked, glasses falling back over his eyes. He stood up and grabbed his hockey stick, walking to the door and leaned just on the other side of it as the shadow of Matthew's profile fell on the glass. Matt raised his hockey stick, smirking. "I missed the quiet little mouse." The door opened and the hockey stick descended. You screamed.

N. Italy(Luciano): You bounded to Feli's house, ready to show off a new pasta recipe to him. You dressed in your favorite cooking outfit and had your hair tied back, ready to cook as soon as he came to greet you.

"Feli! I have a new recipe-" You were cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around your waist and swinging you in the air, causing you to gasp. There was a loud laugh, you falling onto the couch as a pair of magenta eyes and dark hair appeared before you, a cool grin on the stranger's face. When you finally regain your bearings you blinked, looking at the stranger. He looked exactly like Feli, except for his eyes and outfit. He cupped your cheek in his dark brown leather gloved hand, leaning closer to your face.

"Hello, bella. Have I-a ever told you how-a beautiful you-a are?" He purred, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You stared at the stranger, in utter shock.

"Who are you? Where if Feli?" You asked, leaning back. The stranger only smirked, leaning closer until he was leering over you with a creepy light in his eyes. He removed his hand from your cheek, putting his hand on his hip. He lifting his foot, resting it against the couch and reaching into his knee high black boots, slowly pulling something out of the top of the boot that was nearly level with your face.

"OH, don't-a worry about him. I-a have a feeling he-a won't bother us." He fully removed the object from his boot and quickly flicking his wrist and placing something cold against your cheek. A sharp knife. You froze, not wanting this strange madman to hurt you. Still, you're worry for Feli helped you find your voice again.

"W-who are you? W-What have you done t-to him? " You stuttered, trying to lean away from the knife. The stranger rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue with disappointment, reaching into his boot again with his other hand and pulling out another knife.

"Nothing, Bella. I-a just sent him on-a wild goose chase. Not-a that it's-a that hard to-a do. As for-a me-" He grinned bending his knee so it pressed into the couch right next to your hip, opposite hand pressing in the space next to your head; trapping you completely. "I'm-a Luciano, Feliciano's polar opposite." He grinned, flicking the knife against his wrist and hiding it up his sleeve before brushing the hair out of your face. You slapped it away, getting angry now.

"Don't touch me." You snapped, glaring at Luciano. He frowned emotionlessly before grinned chuckled.

"Feisty-a little bella, aren't you?" He relaxed his other leg,hips slamming into yours and pinning you. "That's-a ok. I like-a challenge." he purred, flicking his other knife in the air a few times without paying much attention. The insane light in his eyes only grew brighter as he looked down at you. He then stopped throwing the knife in the air, slowly bringing it to your cheek. "I-a like your-a voice." He brought the knife to the base of your throat, digging in the point a little to draw a drop of blood. "I-a wonder if it sounds-a more beautiful when you are-a screaming?" He leaned in a kissed your ear, slowly drawing lower. You tried punching him but he caught your hand with his other free one, knife digging in deeper into your throat. He slowly began whispering threats and vulgar promises, causing you to scream.

"Feli!"

Russia(Viktor Braginski): "Ivan? Ivan, I have the gloves you asked me about." You called through the dark and chilly russian mansion. You were wearing your warm winter coat and had sadly taken off your boots, so your feet were cold as you walked to Ivan's office, where he likely was hiding. You walked to the door and began to grow a little uncomfortable with how cold and quiet the house was. Normally there was someone playing an instrument at least or Ivan's servants running around causing a racket, but right now… nothing. You knocked on the door, hearing a muffled grunt. You slowly opened the door, peeking in the dark and cold room. There was a single oil lamp lit on the right corner of the dark mahogany office deck, light barely reaching past the desk. A pair of gloved hands were the only thing you could make out of the figure behind the desk, who was hidden in layers of dark shadow.

"Little girl. Come in." A low, gruff voice ordered, figure leaned forward so that his russian military uniform was in sight. It was black with small golden buttons in a column going down either side of his chest, a single red ribbon over his breast. A golden rope wrapped around his one shoulder and rested down to the crook of his elbow, a large half drunken vodka bottle sitting on the other side of the oil lamp. You stepped in nervously, leaving the door open just incase you had to get out of there quickly. The room was blisteringly cold that caused you to shiver as the figure; who you assumed was not Ivan by now, sat silently behind the desk.

"Um, I'm looking for Ivan. D-Do you know where I can find him, sir?" You asked hesitantly, clutching the gloves to your chest as if they may provide some warmth and protection. The figure paused for few seconds before he stood up, one hand pressed against a single paper in front of him.

"(Y/N) (L/N). Age (Y/A). Height, (Y/H). Occupation, flower shop girl." The figure said lowly, slowly moving his hand from the page and walking around the desk. His heavy boots thudded loudly in the dark and vast room. Each step he took made you feel as if your heart would burst from your chest. "Currently" Thud. "in a relationship." Thud. "With." Thud. He was almost standing in front of you, face and neck still hidden by shadow. Now you could at least make out the terrifying figure's outline. Longish hair, bulky broad shoulders, neck covered in some sort of scarf. You're heart is beating faster, you're breathing slowly becoming louder as the fear grew in your chest.

"Ivan Braginski." Thud. He was now completely in front of you, with the lower half of his face now illuminated by the lamplight. He had a very rounded chin, thin mouth that seemed to be in a permanent scowl, a blood red scarf wrapped around his neck. He leaned forward slowly, completely engulfing your field of vision. You backed up against the door, accidentally shutting it. You were trapped in every sense of the word. Then the figure's face was fully illuminated by the light, bending almost in half and still towering over you.

"IVAN?!" You gasped, seeing the man you loved looking back at you with blood red eyes. The man huffed, sneer deepening. He straighten up, reaching above your head and turning on a single light over his desk, showing you a bloody pipe above the desk with a body at the base of the desk that had been previously been hidden in shadow. Ivan lay at the base of the desk, silver hair splattered with red. You tried to rush to help your fallen boyfriend but the man grabbed your shoulder roughly, fingers digging in painfully to your skin.

"Little girl, I am not puny Ivan. I am Viktor, the ray of revolting sunshine's opposite half." He then released your shoulder a second before he wrapped his fingers around your neck, lifting you in the air. "When he wakes up, tell him he has unfinished business with me, da?" You nodded weakly, feeling your throat being mercilessly squeezed by an iron grip. He glared into your eyes for a few more seconds before dropping you unceremoniously, stepping over you as you laid on the ground. He left without a single look back.

Japan(Kuro Honda): You were walking to the store when you remembered that you forgot to buy Kiku an anniversary gift. You picked him up a new manga and some otaku trinkets (necessities) and drove to his house. The house was dark so you assumed he wasn't home, trying the door anyway. To your surprise his voice sounded from within the darken house, a candle illuminating his traditional window in his office. You entered, walking into his office with a smile.

"Kon'nichiwa, Kiku. I just wanted to stop by-" You stopped, blood turning to ice in your veins at the scene before you. A man wearing a jet black japanese military uniform sat behind the desk, blood red eyes staring into yours. His face looked exactly like Kiku's, but this man had a emotionless scowl on his face. His seemed to be in the middle of writing a document when He glared at you, putting down his pen and placing his fingertips together and just under his chin.

"Werr? Spit it out." He ordered coldly, scarlet eyes never wavering. You swallowed and fully entered the room, holding the bag in front of you and looking at the floor.

"Um, I just wanted to give these to Kiku. Is he, um… not here?" You asked, nerves getting the better of you. The man just sat there, unmoving. He then leaned back, putting his fingertips to his lips.

"Put them down there, girr." He ordered, nodding with his head to the corner of his desk. You immediately complied, placing the bag on the side of the desk. Before you could pull away, however, a long blade slapped at the back of your hand, forcing you to freeze. The bright silver of the blade gleamed blood red in the candle light, the flat of the blade resting against the back of your hand. You slowly looked up at him, now terrified. He stared back at you, holding the katana's hilt in his one hand.

"Who are you?" He asked, voice as cold as ice. He stood up, blade moving from your hand to your neck.

"I-I'm (Y/N). K-Kiku's m boyfriend." You replied, shaking now. His eyes narrowed as he walked around the desk, blade never leaving your neck. He walked until you were nearly chest to chest, smoldering red eyes gazing into your (E/C). His lips pursed as his expression darkened.

"So, you are the one who has been distracting Kiku..." He said, eyes shifting from your face down your body and back up slowly.

"Who-Who are you?" You asked, trying not to be terrified. He blinked slowly and removed moved his blade from your neck.

"I am Kuro Honda, Japan's other harf. You courd say his dark side..." He looked you up and down again, slow smirk growing on his lips. "Though I can show you just how dark I can be..." He stepped forward, placing his katana on the desk and taking off his black gloves. You backed up against the wall, not sure of what was going to happen. You closed your eyes and prayed that it wouldn't been that...

France(Francois Bonnefoy): "Francois! Francois, I've been calling you for a week and you still haven't-" You were cut off by a wine bottle smashing above your head, a few shards nicking your arms. You looked from behind you're arms shakily, seeing the strangest sight in front of you. Francois had his longish blond hair messy and let down, a day old stubble on his chin, cigarette between his lips, dark shadows under his eyes. His purple silk shift was wrinkled and plain white pants just as awful. He slouched, glaring at you before pulling his cigarette out of his mouth and blowing out a steady stream of smoke in your direction.

"Garce, shut the hell up. I only want you screaming in bed." He growled, taking another breath of smoke. You binked in confusion, blushing a little.

"Who are you and what gives you the right to say that to me?!" You snapped, getting ready to slap the hell out of Francois for being silk a jerk. He shrugged, throwing his legs and flopping on the couch, arching his back in an uncaring manner.

"I'm Francois, but his other side, I guess. Frankly I don't think a little slut like you could understand if i explained to you anyway." You fumed, ready to punch this jerk. You stomped over to him, trying not to cough as the heavy smoke struck you're face. You waved your hand in front of your face, clearing the smoke from your face. Francois looked up up and down a few times, smirking a little. "But I must say, for a girl dating Francois you look sexy. I wouldn't mind showing you a few moves-"

You punched him in the face, feeling his nose break under your hand. It hurt, but you ignored the pain as you stomped to the door, about to have a very long talk with the real Francois. As you reached for the door, you're found a hand slammed right next to your ear. You tried to looked back but something pressed you flat against the door, growling in your ear.

"That was… a little too sexy, bitch." he whispered, hands grabbing your wrist. This Francois was a complete pervert! You slammed your head back and tried to kick him but he only threw you to the ground, towering over you. You're hands became shredded by the glass on the ground, your head turning to look up at him. He began unbuttoning his shirt, looking lazily down at you. He then straddled your hips, putting out his cigarette right next to your head. "Now, ma cheré, I'll show you a real french kiss." He leaned his head down as the door slammed open.

S. Italy(Flavio Vargas): "Hey Romano! Where the hell do my skirt go! I have an interview in an hour and I need to get ready!" You shouted through the house, Dressed in a nice shirt and sweat pants. You expected to find the lazy and rude Italian sleeping on the couch and were surprised he had left you a note.

(Y/N),

I have to go to the tomato bastard's house to check up on something. I'll be back in an hour and if I don't see you good luck at the interview thought they would be idiotic to not take you.

Love, Romano

You sighed, touched that he would leave a note then continued you're search for the missing article of clothing. You were about to give up when you heard a sewing machine startup. Now that wouldn't have been too creepy at any other time, seeing how it was broad daylight out and you were in a safe community. But you were alone. And didn't have a sewing machine. You ran into the bedroom, coming to a dead stop in front of the strangest sight in front of you.

Romano was dressed in a bright white designer suit with a bright blue scarf around his neck. He wore white dress pants with black dress shoes, rosy colored designer shades resting on top of his head as he sat at a simple sewing machine. Sewing your skirt.

"Um…" You said stupidly, staring at this strange creature that dropped from the sky into your spare room. He looked up at you, bright blue eyes smiling happily at you.

"Oh, Bella! Good, your-a here. I-a saw that your skirt-a was-a little frayed and I just fixed it. Here, try it on." He tossed you the skirt, standing up and smiling. You caught the shirt, staring at Romano with confusion. But you walked to your room and tried on the skirt. It fit even better then when you tried it on at the store, and it even felt more comfortable; like you were wearing your sweatpants still. You walked to see Romano standing outside your door, arms crossed over his chest and smiling. "So? You-a like it?" You nodded.

"Yeah, this is great, Romano. When did you learn to sew?" You asked, seeing his face sour.

"Bella, I'm-a not the tasteless Romano." he threw his arms wide and puffed out his chest dramatically. "I am Flavio, his 2P! I am everything that he is not-" He took a posse, winking at you flirtatiously. "I am a gentleman, a womanizer, a amazing cook, and have only the best fashion sense this side of the world! And it is-a pleasure to make your-acquaintance." He bowed, taking you're hand and giving it a feather light kiss. You paused, unsure of how to react. This couldn't be that bad, right? You never felt the tracker in the waist of your skirt as you bid goodbye to Flavio and rushed off to your interview.

Spain(Andres Fernandez Carriedo): "Antonio? Toni, I was wondering if I could borrow your salsa recipe for a dinner party I'm throwing in a week or two. I also wanted to invite you." You called thought the house, having tried to call him for days and getting no responce. You walked into the kitchen and saw a perfectly hand written note in neat cursive. You opened it and read the neat cursive.

My wonderful Chica,

Gilbert and Francois have invited me to a party. I'll be back as soon as possible and explain everything.

With love,

Antonio

PS: If someone suspicious come close you you call Romano, Feli, Ludwig, or any of the other countries. Be safe

You were a little uneasy by the eery message but at least knew that Antonio was just being his big hearted self and there was nothing to worry about. You smiled, writing your own note on another sheet of paper telling him to call you once he came back. You folded the paper and rested it over his note and turned around, bumping into someone. You stumbled back, surprised. Looking up, you saw..,

"Antonio?" You asked, looking at the man in front of you. His face was identical to Toni's, but he was scowling, his brown hair darker and with a few strands of dyed white bangs. He wore a tan tunic with dark brown pants with a cross around his neck. He scowled down at you, hands buried in his pockets.

"What are you doing here, chica?" He snapped, voice slightly deeper and rougher than Antonio's. You straightened up, clearing your throat.

"I Was just checking to see if Antonio was here. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." You said politely. "My name is (Y/N)" You held out your hand, waiting for him to shake your hand. He just stared at your hand for a few seconds before it fell back to your side slowly. He put his pinky in his ear, scratching the inside and pulling it out, not paying any attention to you. "Well, I guess I'll be going-"

"So you are the one who is dating him? Figures he would pick your kind." He said, rolling his eyes and stepping closer. You stepped back, stepping around him. He watched you with emotionless eyes, but a slight dark glint in his eyes disturbed you. "That's rude. Didn't even ask my name." He shrugged and took another step to you. "I'm Andres Fernandez Carriedo, the opposite of Antonio. 2p. Whatever."He reached up to the collar of his shirt, pulling it to loosen its hold on him.

"Well, it was nice meeting you. Bye." The air was getting too tense with him staring at you; the glint only growing brighter. You darted out the door, driving home. When you returned home you remembered what Toni's note had said, so you called the first person that came to mind.

"Gilbert?" You called, holding the phone to your ear as you paced around your house. The sun started going down and lighting the whole room with a blood red light. After the second ring he picked up crankily.

"Vhat do jou want, frau? Jour boyfriend is busy at zhe moment." You winced and continued on.

"Hey, is he still there? Could tell him that a guy name-"

"What guy, chica?' Antonio was on the other end, voice sounding dead serious.

"Someone named Andres Fernandez Carriedo-"

"Lock the doors and don't go anywhere. I'm coming to get you, chica. You at home?" You heard a car start and the engine reeve, telling him you were at home. He hung up, leaving you to sit on the couch and try to suppress a shiver running down your back. When you looked up at the window, screaming.

Andres was outside the window, bloody axe resting across his shoulders and staring at you emotionlessly. The glint had grown into a fire, and it seemed to burn a hole right through your soul. Your only hope was for Antonio to get there. Fast.

Prussia(Klaus): Gilbert had done it to you again! He went out to party at Antonio's house with Francois and left you to pick up after his last party. That was at his house!

"One of these day's I will strangle you, Gilbert!" You muttered under your breath as you picked up half full beer mugs and wine bottles. There luckily wasn't anything too disgusting to clean up, which you were relieved about. Then you came to the most terrifying room… his bedroom. You never wanted to know how it became the most messy but you decided to save the worst for last. You opened the door.

"Hausmädchen1. Vhere is Gilbert." A voice behind you spoke, causing you to jump a kilometer in the air. You whipped around, slamming your back against the door on accident. I man dressed in a traditional Teutonic Knight's uniform stood in front of you, ice blue staring daggers into your (E/C) ones. He had a scare just under his left eye, lips pale blue from seemly perpetual chill. His old fashioned sword jostled against his hip as he crossed his arms over his chest, lips pursed into a deep frown. His long white hair tied back in a low ponytail and braided with ceremonial beads and ribbons. "Are jou going to answer zhe question or not, Hausmädchen? I am in a rush and don't have time for jour sputtering." He growled, glaring at you.

"Um, he's at a friends house right now. I can give him a message? What's your name?" You asked, trying not to panic or mention the fact he was being exceptionally creepy right then. His icy blue eyes blinked once and he nodded, turning around.

"I am Klause Beilschmidt, Knight of zhe Teutonic Crown. I am zhe opposite or dark side of zhe man jou know as Gilbert Beilschmidt. He has told jou about his situation, correct?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrow. You nodded.

"I'm Gilbert's girlfriend, and my name is (Y/N) and not Hausmädchen."You said to the rude and cold Knight. He paused, turning back to look you.

"Oh, jour zhe one…" He muttered, blue eyes flashing with a strange look. Something like… malice. You pressed back farther into the door, trying not to show the growing fear in your chest. He slowly turned back around, taking a step toward you and loomed over you. A chill blew from his cloak, causing you to shiver. You suddenly remember the time Gilbert told you about him.

If a guy named Klaus ever comes near jou, call me and run. He is not like me at all and I don't know vhat he vill do. But you couldn't run. You were trapped and hand left your phone out on the counter. You're only hope was to either talk your way out of this or pray Gilbert managed to somehow come back. But as you looked into the icy blue orbs of the man that leered above you, you had a feeling that he wasn't much of a talkative guy...

China(Xiao Wang): You had bought Yao a cute stuffed panda for an anniversary gift and almost couldn't wait! You jumped up and down, knocking on his door rapidly. Unable to wait for him to open the door you burst through, running into the house.

"Yao! Come out! I have the cutest stuffed-" You rounded a corner into the living room to reveal Yao and… a much dark Yao. They were squaring off with swords drawn, glaring at each other. You looked at the stranger, confused. He was dressed in a red outfit, the same as Yao. But his was blood red and without sleeves, part of a dragon tattoo peaking out through the bare slits. He glanced at you, grin widening.

"Ooh! A little china doll! Can I have her as well?" He asked, smiling insanely. Yao gripped his sword tighter, glaring at the man across from him.

"No! (Y/N) Is my girlfriend as you can't have her, you ass!" He shouted, taking a threatening step forward.

"What's going on?" You asked, causing both men to look at you. The Yao without sleeves grinned at you, tipping his hat a little.

"I am Xiao Wang, this grouches 2p, or opposite persona. You come and join me for tasty snack some time?" He asked, taking long strides as he walked over to you, embracing you shamelessly. You stood there, completely confused. Until a small blade was pressed against your back. "Come on, Little Doll! Won't you join me?" He asked, pulling away and moving his dagger to your chin.

"I said get away from her!" Yao, shouted, diving at you and ripping you away from the 2P. You tumbled to the ground, away from the two fighting men. You watched as they began curing in Chinese, fighting furiously. All you could do was watch helplessly...

Author's note: The shame I feel for not updating sooner... I feel like I have failed my little darlings(The Hetalia boys)! But Then again I have been hitting a wall lately and have been finding zero inspiration. So, I just wrote something a little dark and then this happened. I also want to apologies if some were complete biffs(Those I honestly had no idea what to do for but didn't want to leave them completely out.) And if you are wondering about how I ended each of them off on a cliff hanger... there will be a part 2. I'm in the process of finishing that one as I'm posting so I hope it won't be too long. I am sorry if they make you feel a little uncomfortable or they are not written in a way that you would think they would be but I tried. There is so little information on them it hard to write them in a set persona. Still, I tried and am willing to listen to feedback. Also, I am fully caught up with my request so they are open. Please PM or send me a comment if you want me to write something. At any rate, Read on, Fellow Otaku's and Hetalians! ^.^

PS: I really like writing these and am thinking of doing a few 2P one-shots. Should I? Let me know by either a PM or a comment. Thank you all for your support!