Greetings people of FF land! You are now viewing the story I started this account for. I've spent a very long time brainstorming this up and daydreaming about it, so now you have it. Yay.
Now, I have to say, it has a weird beginning. If you can get past the first three chapters, I find it gets more exciting. Of course, it is my story, so I think you should read the entire thing and review every chapter, but that sentence ago is true.
On you go! Review! :D
It was instantaneous.
The sky was clear.
And there was a blink and an instant later, it was dark, dark like the inside of a black honeycomb pushing out. Just past the reach of the clouds were hexagonal black spaceships, just hovering silently, ominously.
After people shot at them, and blew their voices through loudspeakers and megaphones, and flashed lights at them, nothing happened.
So they called a meeting. Just the eight of them.
America spoke first. "What is it then? Are they aliens?"
"You would know if it was aliens, wouldn't you," muttered England sullenly.
Germany looked up, choosing tactfully to ignore England's comment. "If they are aliens, they aren't hurting anything yet, but they're blocking out our sunlight. Maybe intentionally. Soon, the crops will die, and then we'll have to fall back on other things."
"And then there will be no more pasta!" wailed Italy suddenly, waking up just as suddenly from a nap.
"Hush," said Germany, and continued. "Maybe we could somehow speak to them-"
"Pfft, you saw how well that worked." America scoffed.
Germany glared.
"We don't even know if those are aliens, aru." said China.
"Well what else would it be? An evil cloud?" retorted America.
"We should kill them!" said Russia cheerfully.
"I do not think that would be a good idea," said Japan, slightly nervously, since Russia looked ready to brain someone with his pipe.
"What if they're like the Pictonians?" asked France.
"They're not like the Pictonians, you idiot! The Pictonians' ships were glowing, you fool!" yelled England.
And they were fighting again in a ruffle of dust. Italy was dozing and murmuring 'Pasta!' in his sleep. Russia was furtively eyeing the back of Japan's head as if measuring it for a pipe shaped dent. England and France were trying to rip eachother's heads off. Another meeting was degenerating into chaos. As usual.
Also as usual, Germany had to retake control by shouting at them. "SHUT UP AND LISTEN, YOU DUMKOPFS!" Then he lapsed into German and cursed at them.
Surprisingly, they subsided back into their seats, England and France exchanging a glare.
The meeting ended half an hour later after no worthwhile suggestions were made, but everyone was disinclined to head home, what with the ominous hexagons of darkness floating around. They were all hanging out in the lobby of the meeting building, generally making a mess of themselves.
America's phone buzzed. He took it out and looked at this. "Hey, guys, you may wanna see this…"
Something in his voice must've tipped the others off, because they stopped what they were doing and crowded around the tiny screen, where a blond announcer spoke in a tinny voice about the aliens.
"…now showing a live scene above New York." The screen cut to an image of a single dark hexagon descending out of the bunch, showing a patch of clear blue sky before it was quickly hidden by the rest.
Curious to see something, France whipped out his own phone.
England gaped at it. "Why," he asked, "does your phone cover have a scantily clad woman on it?"
Tapping in the password, France smirked. "Ah, you like? We'll make a man of you yet."
England looked ready to sock France in the eye, but then France frowned and said, "It is happening here, too! In beautiful France! How strange."
China drew his own phone out of his pocket also, and said, "And here also, aru!"
Slowly, the others took out their phones and dialed into the nearest news broadcast. The same thing was happening; a lowered hexagon above a city.
And then, each hexagon on each screen started to glow, increasing in brightness until it hurt their eyes.
"That's strange," said Russia. "It's almost like it's going to explode."
The nations' eyes widened.
"Holy sh-" began America.
Then the boom, white-hot, like a spray of acid, burning efficiently through muscle and sinew and bone- It was pain beyond what they could imagine, though that capacity would soon be increased.
And then it was gone in the instant it came, leaving them shaky and pale.
"What the hell?" England shouted, his face shocked and angry. "Not friendly!" hollered America. "SHOOT AT THEM!" he bawled into his phone. "Kill them," hissed Russia, his purple aura flickering eerily.
Italy was sobbing inconsolably, waving his hands around, and shouting. Germany's face was tight as he comforted his friend. "Verdammt," he murmured softly, running one hand through his hair so it stood on end.
For once France was at a loss for words, and he braced himself against the wall, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Japan muttered something no one caught. China was trying to lure his panda, which had retreated completely into the bag and was refusing to come out.
But then, of course, there was trouble. France seemed to have regained the capacity for speech, and he fluffed his hair in the reflection of his phone and skipped over to the nearest person, which happened to be England. "Your eyebrows are all poofy." France took out what appeared to be hairspray and squirted it at those bizarre sculptures of hair.
England glowered, and then shouted, "AREN'T YOU THE LEAST BIT WORRIED AT ALL? WE WERE JUST FREAKING ELECTROCUTED OR SOMETHING!" All the while rubbing his stinging eyes. France laughed, which enabled England to locate him and kick him where the familiar rose was normally pinned.
France fell over, and England laughed before stomping to the other side of the room, passing America, who was having a panic attack, staring into the screen of his phone.
"Th-there's more? Why aren't the tanks blowing anything up? Aa! Mmf! Mrarf!" At that point, he'd started shoving hamburgers into his mouth.
"What do you mean, there's more, aru?" China, having failed to coax out his panda, walked over to America.
America said something along the lines of, "Rargels hrath kkinch lornk! Rdee?" He held out his phone.
"What, aru?" asked China in annoyance.
America repeated the unintelligible sounds.
While China was yelling at America, Japan went to the window and looked out. "Why does nobody seem to be as worried as I am?"
Germany joined him at the window. "I don't know. I know I'm worried."
"Why are we all still here? Why haven't any of us left for our homes yet?"
"Safety in numbers?" suggested Germany weakly.
"Indeed. I do not understand it. Is it on an instinctual level that we stay congregated, or is it a conscious decision? I know for sure that Italy would probably go over to your house."
Germany flushed a little. "He does that anyway. I can't control it."
Speaking of Italy, the pasta-obsessed nation ran up to him. "England's scaring me! And Russia pulled something out of his pipe that he's eating that looks weird! America's trying to eat all my pasta! Germany, I'm scared! And also France is starting to take his clothes off and pin a rose to his privates again, and China's bonking his head into the wall! And my shoe is untied! Germanyyyyy! Fix it!"
Germany looked around the room. England was talking to a patch of air, and France was nearly in his run-around-and-grope-people stage. America was staring hungrily at a bowl of pasta on the table, and Germany went over there first to settle the dispute before it worsened.
Japan turned back to the window. "Why are we all still here?" he inquired of his reflection. Then he answered himself. "Because we're afraid, aren't we? This is different than anything that's come before. It'll change us."
His phone buzzed, interrupting his contemplation. Idly, he pulled it out and stared at the screen. China, who'd stopped hitting himself in the head, wandered over after seeing Japan's expression. "What is it, aru?"
Mutely, Japan tilted the screen towards China, whose eyes widened. A string of (probably rude) Chinese words came flying out of his mouth, and the other people drew out their phones immediately to see what was happening.
Russia was the first one to comment. "We are all going to die, da~?"
Because the entire sky was filled with black hexagons, and they were glowing.
"It was nice knowing you, Italy." said Germany, clapping the other on the shoulder. Italy looked up, clueless, still having not caught on. "What do you mean by that, Germany?"
England had taken out his phone last, because he had been distracted by that patch of air. "Aw, bloody hell. Can't we catch a break?"
And then their blood was turned to fire that chewed through them, dropping them to their knees. They felt the humans living on their land die in the thousands, and they felt the pain of each and every one. It was like a fist of acid had rammed their organs into different shapes, squeezed them and melted their bones until-
Italy dropped first, juts falling to the ground. A mostly-unclothed France fell, but fortunately his shirt and pants were still clenched tightly in his hand. England watched his otherworldly friends dart around his head until his vision burst into spots, and then darkened. China and Japan collapsed at the same time. Then America. Russia. Germany. All mere instants after the other.
The world was dark as midnight, because the sun was gone from everywhere, blocked out by the ships.
Nobody saw the ceiling of the building ripped off by a lime green beam of light, like an old-timey movie. Or the largest hexagon shooting out something that appeared to be eight amber bubbles that circled around the unconscious nations, and lifted them into the air.
None of them saw, because they were in the place past midnight. It was very dark indeed.