The Hetalia Global Warming Crisis; Get Out Alive
13—The Office
~~America~~
"Wh-What happened here?" the American stammered in shock, his blue eyes wide in bewilderment and horror.
Arthur shouldered past his companion and stepped into the middle of the room, doing a full three-sixty degree turn, scanning up and down for enemies. Then he closed his eyes and hummed faintly.
"What are you..?" began Alfred, starting to walk forwards, but the Brit raised his hand, tense with concentration.
Alfred hesitated and decided to stay where he was. Something wet dripped onto his forehead and slid down his face. He looked up and shuddered. Blood had been splashed thickly over the ceiling, dripping down like rain as it dried. He wiped his face in disgust, but only caused the blood to smear across his face and hand. After a quick glance at his bloodied hand, he shoved it into a pocket, afraid to look at it.
A whimper escaped from the small man before him and the American rushed to his side. Arthur was shivering, as if he was cold, and he was hugging himself, his hands clutching his sides so hard, his knuckles were white. Alfred reached forward to help, but at the same time, Arthur cried out and doubled over in pain. The American caught him before he fell, and the Brit's eyes flew open.
"Pain, violence, fear…" he mumbled under his breath, emerald eyes wide and unfocused.
"Arthur, it's okay," murmured Alfred, thinking that the Englishman looked a little insane.
"No, you don't understand," Arthur gasped, staring at Alfred in fear. "Just a few moments ago, there were people in here, torturing two others. Their blood… Only a high degree of inhumane violence could create such a mess, America."
Alfred looked around at the blood that dripped from the ceiling onto the ground. The chairs and the desk had red liquid spilled across their hard surfaces. The white walls were smeared with bloody handprints, as if the victims had been scrabbling blindly for a way out. He glanced back at Arthur and pulled the smaller man closer to him. What kind of horror had he dragged his friend into? He should never have listened to Russia!
"I can feel the terror and the agony of the victims," England was saying. "It's thick in the air, like fog. Oh, America! If only we were here earlier, we could have saved whoever had fallen prey to these monsters!"
"How?" growled Alfred wretchedly. "We don't even know who was in here! It can't be one of us; we were all in the other room the entire time!"
"Except for…" Arthur trailed off and his gaze cleared.
"No," Alfred hissed, his face paling at the thought. "Australia was dead."
"We don't know that," said Arthur quietly.
"Then if he was here, who was the second person!"
"Perhaps another country that did not make it out in time."
"I don't buy it."
"It's only a suggestion, idiot!"
"No it isn't," snapped Alfred. "It's a conclusion. We're jumping to conclusions and we're wasting time."
Arthur realised how childish his argument sounded, and shamefully fell silent.
Alfred, who was still holding the smaller country in his arms, impatiently shoved the Brit away from him and spun around. Arthur stumbled and landed against a chair, quickly pulling away from the blood, but already his back and sides were stained dark red. He stared at the stains stupidly, as if wondering where the blood had come from, then tore his gaze away from his clothes and focused his attention on Alfred.
The American was opening and closing drawers, rummaging through them as he tried to find the set of keys that contained the one leading to the basement. He looked all over the room, until his hands were sticky with blood. Then he straightened and stared at the Brit in despair.
"I can't find it…" Alfred said desperately, running a blood-covered hand through his hair absentmindedly in frustration. Arthur winced at the stains Alfred left in his hair.
Suddenly the American jumped, his eyes sparkling as an idea came to him. The same thought ran through the Englishman's mind and his eyes widened. Both countries dropped onto the floor and peered under the desk.
There, on the floor, was a key holder. Five different keys were attached and covered in dust.
"I got it," America grunted, and he flattened himself onto the floor, reaching his hand through the small space to get the keys. Arthur lay on his belly, watching Alfred's progress.
The moment his hand touched the keys, he jerked his hand back and both men leaped to their feet in triumph. They looked at each other, clothes ragged and covered in blood, but their eyes were bright and determined. Finally they had accomplished something!
Alfred turned to race back the way they had come and unlock the door so he could take his brother to a place where he knew it would be safe, but Arthur grabbed his wrist and tugged him back.
"Wait a minute," Arthur muttered. "Don't you think we ought to solve this mystery first?" He gestured at the room.
The American's eyes flickered as he imagined the horrors that could be awaiting them elsewhere. All he wanted was to get back to safety and out of the cursed room.
"You're scared," stated Arthur with a sigh of disappointment, and dropped his friend's hand crossly. "Very well. I'm going myself. I have other business to attend to anyway, like getting my full powers back."
Arthur pushed past Alfred and out the door, blinking back tears of betrayal, disappointment, and frustration. The American hesitated, his face burning with shame and guilt at leaving Arthur alone. He looked up and blinked, his eyes blazing with determination.
America hurried after England and caught his shoulder, turning the smaller man around and hugging him tightly, careful not to crush him. The Englishman gasped in surprise and the taller man smirked.
"Arthur," murmured Alfred. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm coming with you," the American replied. "What if you fell down again and couldn't get up?"
Arthur hesitated, and then looked up with a smile. "I guess you'd better come, so you can kiss me awake."
America smirked. "You want another one?"
The Brit replied by reaching up and tilting the American's head down so their lips could meet. Alfred gently touched Arthur's chin and parted his jaws so he could slip his tongue inside the small man's mouth. Arthur moaned and pulled Alfred closer.
The hallway echoed with their muffled groans of pleasure as they stood alone in their bloodstained clothes and ruffled hair, enjoying their own moment together. Forgetting about the other ten countries trapped with them, forgetting about the enemies that hunted them, forgetting about the past and the future, they stayed in the embrace, allowing themselves to be distracted from reality for a time.
Slowly, they pulled away from each other, gasping for air. Alfred licked up the saliva that had dripped from Arthur's mouth and down his neck. The smaller man shivered in ecstasy as he fought the urge to unbutton Alfred's shirt and do the same to the taller man. Instead, he pulled away from Alfred's warm embrace and smoothed his hair and clothes, forcing his breath to slow.
"Let's go," Arthur said curtly, moving closer to the staircase and hesitating at the door.
"Scared?" taunted Alfred.
"In your dreams you bloody git!" the Brit retorted defiantly.
The American laughed. "Then come on!"
He held Arthur's hand in his own and pushed the door open with the other.
Suddenly, something grabbed their collars and pulled them into the staircase. Both countries blacked out and knew nothing more.
Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya
Oooh What's gonna happen to them now, I wonder? :3
I'm stopping here for now! Review and I might post more really soon! XD