Chapter Three: Blood Stain
The nineteen Nations trudged through a dank hallway of the castle; it seemed much less vibrant than the entrance and the banquet hall from before. England led the way, his face concealing a stern gaze as he attempted to remember the layout of the building, alongside Spain who was getting an earful from an annoyed Italian.
CRASH!
"What was zat?" France yelped at the loud sound.
England and Spain looked back and noticed their ghost selves darting towards them; the two figures completely oblivious to the Nations as they continued their ongoing sword fight.
"Mi amigos! Run for it!" Spain cried and took Romano's hand as they turned to bolt down the hallway, before the other could protest.
They all ran, holding onto their loved ones for dear life. All they could do was try and escape the clashing of swords behind them. The metallic crashes were getting closer and closer…
Unfortunately… "AH!" A strangled yelp occurred from the back of the group. They turned back to find the ghosts crossing their swords…inside of Canada's chest. The Canadian twitched in pain, taking short breaths as his violet eyes focused on the silver penetrating his skin.
The ghosts of Pirate England and Spain drew their swords out of the Canadian, who fell to the floor. The ruby fluid flowed from his wounds, staining the frozen stone he lay upon. Prussia and America stared, open mouthed at the Canadian. But America ran to his little brother's side, knelt and pulled him onto his lap.
"Matt! Say something! Please!" America cried, his aqua eyes twinkling with tears.
"Al…Alfred…" Canada opened his eyes and looked up at his brother through his amethyst irises. His innocent face destroyed by the blood on his cheeks, his glasses slightly shattered from the fall. "S-Sorry… I was too slow…"
"Don't be stupid… England. Please help him! I can't lose him!" America screamed, fixing his eyes on England. The Brit's head fell in shame; America's eyes widened and more tears cascaded down his cheeks.
"You'll be alright… You don't need me." Canada smiled softly up at America, his eyes sparkling with tears too. "You're s-strong, Alfred." The Canadian reached up and placed his hand on America's cheek, using his thumb to dry his tears. "Please don't…cry."
"Matt…" America gritted his teeth and held Canada's hand tight in his own. "Shit… shit!" The American sobbed loudly. The Nations all hung their head and kept one another close; two of their party had suffered.
"Birdie…" Prussia knelt by Canada and America; he gently grazed his fingers over the Canadian's cheek. The Prussian's garnet irises glittered as he began to cry as well, which never usually happened since he was the Awesome Prussia; he leant in and softly pressed his lips to Canada's, accepting the return kiss from his beloved. "We're gonna' miss you… you were awesome…"
Canada smiled at the albino's words, "Not as awesome as you…" The wounded took a sharp intake of breath, before coughing violently; maroon liquid seeping into his clothes. "Be…safe…" The American and Prussian nodded together; they were both losing the person they cared for, this was no time for them to dispute against one another. "Ma…ple…" Canada's eyes fluttered shut as his voice faded; his head lulling to the side in his brother's lap.
England and Germany dashed over to the two and took them into their arms; comforting them as they grieved. England muttering words of consolation to America, running his fingers through the other's golden locks; whilst Germany did the same, only he stayed silent and allowed his elder brother to cry.
America pulled away from England and gazed down at his brother's pale face; he gently lifted Canada up and pulled his jacket off; before placing him down on the biting stone and getting up. The American carefully placed the Canadian's jacket over his upper body, covering his death stricken face. Alfred soon sought more comfort and clung to England as he cried.
Prussia soon calmed down and got up, his eyes bloodshot and his voice hoarse. America stopped crying too, wiping his eyes under his glasses. The Brit took the American's hand and took him away from the still Canadian; Germany did the same.
"Let's keep going. We'll grieve later." England spoke in an authoritative tone, his voice squeaking slightly as he held back tears of his own. He held the American close as the group continued to walk down the eerie hallway.
"This is most enjoyable is it not?" Russia smiled sadistically at the group. Poland, Prussia and America all glared at him in horror.
"How can you say that this is, like, enjoyable? Liet just died, and so did like Canada!" Poland snapped; the blond becoming furious, his green eyes dark.
"Yeah, my little brother's gone and so is Lithuania! Don't you care at all that your… your servant died?" America cringed, remembering the joy that Lithuania had felt when he came to America's home, when he had finally gained independence from Russia.
Russia's face went blank as he remembered the Lithuanian; soon a small rose flush appeared on his cheeks. "Hm… I will miss Lithuania. He was a good friend." Everyone felt a little frightened to hear Russia say that word.
The next few minutes seemed to take forever, they had been walking down this corridor for so long, that some thought it would never end. Everyone stayed silent as they remembered the fallen Nations, but soon…
"PASTA! There's a door here guys~!" Italy cheered; he smiled at the others as they looked up to the large door. Although he held a bright smile, his heart ached as he saw the Nations grieving for those who had died.
England and America pushed the heavy door open, which led into a general living space. A fireplace was burning, a grand chandelier and a collection of comfortable furniture was laid out.
Italy and Romano, being Italian, hopped onto the plush couch and shut their eyes.
"Hey! This is no time for a siesta!" Germany barked at the two.
"But Germany, we're tired and Italian. We need a siesta or we'll die." Italy giggled childishly. But the German continued to scold him and his elder brother, although Romano cursed at him in return calling him the usual insult of 'potato bastard'.
America, meanwhile, sighed and sat down in a corner of the room, bringing his knees to his chest. "We should sit and rest for a while. Get our strength back." His aqua blue irises had lost their glow; England stared at the American, before walking over and sitting beside him.
"How are you feeling?" England asked, despite the stupidity of the question; of course America wasn't alright.
America shrugged, "I'm okay. Upset…but holdin' it together right?" He gave the Brit a smile; but Britain wasn't going to be fooled so easily.
"I know how you must feel; losing both Lithuania and Canada in only a matter of minutes." England glanced at Alfred. "But, stay strong for them. You're grown up now." The Briton placed a hand on America's shoulder and kissed his forehead. "It's alright."
America's eyes widened as he remembered something from his past: A memory…of himself and England. He's sitting in England's lap, being sung to. He must have had a nightmare and England was comforting him. England kissed his head and told him it'd be alright and that he would protect him…just like he did now… The American grasped onto England with a deathly grip and didn't let go. "Promise me…"
"Huh? A-Alfred, what are y-"
"Promise, you'll never leave me alone…Just say it." America's grip tightened until England placed a hand on his.
"I promise you Alfred. I'll never leave you." England avoided remarking how America had left him in 1783; the end of the American Revolutionary War. But, England hadn't got the courage to shoot America back then… so why would he let the American die now, even if it's not by his hand?
"Thanks Britain… It means a lot." America blushed and cuddled the older Brit. England chuckled and held the American close.
Liechtenstein was perched on Switzerland's lap, who was sitting on one of the prestige chairs in the room. The girl was snuggled up to the elder Swiss male; shivering in his arms.
"Big brother… we're going to be alright, aren't we?" Liechtenstein quivered.
"Of course we will. I'll protect you Liechtenstein." Switzerland took the girl's hand in his own, gently grazing his thumb over her knuckles. Liechtenstein gently kissed Switzerland's cheek and stayed close to him. The two huddled together; protecting one another with words of comfort and consolation.
Suddenly… BANG!
"Look out! They're back again-aru!" China cried out, dodging a dagger which was thrown by England's ghost.
Pirate England and Pirate Spain began their swordfight once more; spectre England cackling as he slashed the sharp blade at Spain. The Spaniard dodged each swipe and pulled out a revolver shooting three times at the Englishman. England dodged each time; but the last bullet ricocheted and hit the small chain connecting the chandelier to the ceiling.
"ESTONIA! Watch out!" Latvia yelled, attempting to run to him, only to be caught by France.
Estonia yelped and looked up, he went to dash away… but, too late. CRASH!
Latvia struggled in the Frenchman's grip. "Let go. Damn it, let go you son of a bitch!" The Latvian sobbed as he saw the Estonian trapped under the chandelier. England and America dashed over to his side. America with his strength moved the heavy light off Estonia; then England pulled him onto his lap.
"How bad are the wounds Britain?" America enquired, kneeling beside him.
"Pretty bad… His wrist is broken and the candles were still alight… so they've scolded his skin with the melted wax. I have a horrid feeling some of the wax got inside this gash here." England pointed out the ragged laceration across Estonia's chest; beginning from his left shoulder going down to his waist, ending on the right-hand side.
Italy gagged and covered his mouth, "Oh my god…" The other Nations stared in horror at the Estonian's injuries… their attention was then brought to England as he spoke.
"I can't save him. I don't seem to have enough magic in this blasted place! I'm sorry Estonia. I truly am." England gently laid Estonia on the rug which lay under an oak coffee table.
Latvia finally escaped France's grasp and ran over to Estonia, falling to his knees. "I've lost Lithuania, I can't lose you too!" The young country sobbed, "Please don't leave me with mean old Mr Russia!"
"L-Latvia..! He's right over there… y-you need to stop being so spacey and f-focus on what you say b-before you say it." Estonia chuckled weakly. "Just know… that Lithuania and I thought of you… a-as our little brother… We loved spending time with you…" Estonia's smile began to lose its form as his life flowed out with his blood.
The young Nation continued to cry, hugging the Estonian tightly, not wanting to let go. "I'll miss you… b-big brother…" Latvia stuttered as the tears cascaded down his cheeks; burying his face in Estonia's shoulder.
"I-I'll miss y-you too…" Estonia's voice became shaky, and he placed a hand on Latvia's head, attempting to console him in his final moments, by brushing his fingers through the ash brown locks. "Stay alive… Raivis…" With that Estonia's hand dropped to the floor with a soft thud, his head lulled to the side and his grey eyes glossed over; losing their sparkle.
Latvia raised his head off Estonia's shoulder and gently closed the other's eyes with his index finger and thumb, "I will… I promise Eduard…" The Latvian swallowed and got up on shaky legs; turning to the others. Liechtenstein, despite not knowing Latvia very well, walked over to him and gently hugged him; Latvia hugged her back, seeking any form of comfort.
"Shit…" England growled and turned away from them. "That's three down…who's going to die next?!" He clenched his fists, they were shaking intensely.
"Britain? You're becoming hysterical-aru!" China shivered, staying close to Japan.
"Hysterical~?! Me?! I never would have guessed! After all… I'm the Great British, fucking, Empire!" England yelled, his emerald irises a swirl of insanity and despair. A dark smile crossed his face as he contemplated what was happening. He could have saved all three of the Nations who had died, but he couldn't due to the restrictions in the atmosphere He was about to let out another screech of anger, until a familiar pair of arms pulled him tight to their body.
"Britain, dude. Chill out. No one else is gonna' die. Not when the hero's around, got it?!" America shook England to snap him out of it. England placed a hand on his forehead, he felt burning hot... but he wasn't going to mention that to America. His madness was probably brought on by this potential fever he had just gotten.
Three members of the Nation's group had been taken down by the ghosts of England and Spain's past. Three perfectly innocent people had now been blood stained…