Chapter Seven: Silent Atmosphere
The Austrian's features had fallen, no smile had existed on his lips since the Hungarian's death…the Swiss male understood how he felt, but would not offer any consolation because he hated Austria's guts with a passion.
"Switzerland, like, don't be such a meanie. Austria needs to be comforted right now, quit acting like the neutral jerk you are and help him for once." Poland complained, his lips formed a pout and his green eyes dark with anger at the Swiss' lack of action.
"It's not like I care! Austria and I don't speak, so there is no point in me even trying." Switzerland scowled and marched ahead of the other blond, who sighed in a huff and dashed after him, grasping his wrist tightly. "What are you doing?! Let g-"
"He tried to help you when Liechtenstein died right?! So, help him for once!" Feliks scolded, he was right, and Switzerland knew it…but Vash couldn't bring himself to speak to the Austrian, he was afraid he'd say the wrong thing. He was never very good at comforting anyone; that included Liechtenstein.
"I understand where you're coming from Feliks…but no. I'm not going to say anything." Vash closed his eyes, swiped his hand away, and walked off without another word.
The Polish male looked to the smaller Latvian and sighed, "He really needs to, like, lighten up." Raivis nodded in agreement with the Polish male, he was happy to have any form of comfort when Lithuania and Estonia died. His little aquamarine irises sparkled as tears built up, however this halted when the man with violet irises scooped the Latvian into his arms, Raivis shivered in Ivan's hold and held back his tears.
The blond Briton looked back to the lone Japanese male, who had his head bowed and his hands clasped tightly in front of him. He gently patted the dark-haired male's back comfortingly, "I know this may seem a little cliché Kiku, but everything will get better. We'll be out of here soon."
"Arigatō England-San, but…that may take a little time." The other male spoke softly, his voice, once again, monotone. Arthur hated seeing anyone this down, particularly Japan and America; they were his closest friends and America had been his little brother.
"Just stay strong, my friend. We'll escape, I promise." Arthur's emerald irises sparkled as he consoled his friend. The shorter Japanese male returned the gaze to his British ally and smiled softly in thanks.
After a few moments, the Briton halted and looked around cautiously. His green eyes wide with panic and worry. "What..?"
"Brit?" A familiar American voice called to the blond, "You okay back there?"
"I… I thought I heard something…" He shivered slightly then jumped as he felt something tap his shoulder, he turned and his panicked expression changed into one of joy and relief. "Flying Mint Bunny! What are you doing here?"
"I was worried about you Britain! Brownie and I were worried when you hadn't come back after a while." The mint green bunny squeaked softly. Arthur smiled brightly and petted his small pixie friend…although it seemed to the others that he was petting thin air.
"That dude…seriously needs to see a doctor." America face palmed, after removing his glasses from his face. The others all looked at one another in utter confusion, the Swiss male readied a gun in case he got too crazy. The blue-eyed American turned to Vash, raising a hand to signal that he did not need to shoot; that England typically had a moment like this, at least once a week. Arthur continued conversing with his magical friends; but they soon disappeared, and he turned around to the other members of the group.
"W-Why are you all looking at me like you've seen a ghost?" England chuckled, his eyes sparkling slightly. Everyone sighed, and continued to walk, passing the Briton. He glanced to the group once more, then pouted in annoyance. How dare they dismiss him; he was the Great British Empire… After a moment's counting and realization, he turned once more, noticing Japan standing perfectly stagnant, his head hung low, his raven hair obscuring his delicate features.
"Japan? Come on, we need to get going…" He stepped toward his ally, but his eyes widened as he recognised a shadow looming behind the Asian male. The shadow turned slightly, revealing a devilish smile, and haunting green eyes. But caution soon replaced the sadistic expression, as the spectre jumped out of the way. England tried to call out to Japan to move, but he was too late. The Spanish spectre had grabbed Japan's face in a gloved hand, before swiping a blade across his throat.
Japan's hazel eyes were wide; his lips parted, but no sound left them. Blood cascaded from the wound, staining his pristine, white uniform, and the stone floor. The spectres continued to fight, taking no heed of the sin they had just committed; leaving their victim to fall to the ground, catching the attention of everyone else. Gasps and cries echoed through the corridor.
The spirits turned a glare to England, grinning darkly, and muttered something incomprehensible, but Arthur's eyes widened in fear… That explained everything; he and a few others had been questioning this since they had gotten there.
As soon as strong arms pulled England close, the ghosts disappeared. A familiar voice was calling to Britain, trying to snap him out of his trance. The Briton's green eyes soon focused on a concerned America, his blue eyes clouded with worry for him, and grief at losing Japan.
"Britain, dude! Snap out of it, you're creeping me out!" He cried, shaking Arthur forcefully. The addressed blinked and looked around in confusion, before burying himself into the other's shoulder, gripping his bomber jacket, until his knuckles turned white. Consolation reached his ears, as America muttered words to him.
Switzerland tended to Japan, kneeling to see what had happened. Soon, England was calm, and he turned to see his comrade on the ground. He stepped toward him; studying the wound, and Japan's expression. One of peace, yet pain crossed the Japanese male's face, a small streak of blood ran down his cheek from his mouth, and his eyes were partially open, dull and lifeless. The wound across his neck ran deep, severing a major artery, hence the instantaneous death.
England knelt to him, carefully shutting his eyes with trembling hands, and muttering a final goodbye. He stayed where he was for a few moments, tears running down his face; he wasn't aware that he was crying, but right now all he could focus on was Japan.
However, a yelp caused Britain to hastily escape his daze; turning around to see Latvia struggling to stand up straight. His legs trembled underneath him; miniscule droplets of blood splashing on the floor. The Baltic nation slowly turned around, revealing three knives embedded in his torso: one in his shoulder, another in his chest, and the third in his stomach.
The spectres dashed past, knocking Raivis to the ground; nothing more than a grunt of pain escaping him. He panted softly, before Poland had sunk down beside him, pulling him into his lap; tears fell from his green eyes, rebounding off the Latvian's pale cheeks.
Pirate England turned to his current self, grinning fiendishly once more, before mouthing "It's all your fault…" Then dashing away again, after the Spaniard's former self.
"Raivis! Everything will be okay! You'll be, like, fine!" Feliks panicked; he had lost practically everyone, all in the space of a few hours. He cradled Latvia close, nuzzling his face in the other's curly, blond locks.
"I'll… I'll see Lithuania and Estonia again, and I'll get away from big, meanie Russia…" Latvia spoke up, causing the larger nation to grit his teeth in slight anger; his purple aura causing a disturbance in the corridor. However, his words were the least of Raivis' problems, his eyes already began to lose their sparkle.
"Y-You're, like, right…! You'll see Liet, and Estonia again… keep them safe for me, please?" Feliks spoke up, the other blond nodding definitively, a soft smile on his youthful face. His blue eyes darkened even more, before his life slipped away from him in its entirety.
"We need to get out… Now!" England cried out, getting up, and marching down the corridor. It was evident to everyone that he was panicked; yet no one had seen him so riled up before, it was odd. America chased after the Briton, closely followed by the others.
After a few minutes walking, Switzerland spoke up. "I-Isn't that the door that we came through…?!" Excitement and relief was evident in his voice; but Russia turned to meet his gaze.
"We thought we had found the door numerous times during our stay here, but none of them were true. It simply led to a comrade's death. But, if you wish to try it, and risk another life, then be my guest," he chuckled grimly, a menacing smile on his face.
"We have to give it a chance; this area does feel very familiar, we should be able to escape now, finally!" England called, dashing off without waiting for anyone else.
America gasped, and closely followed behind the Briton; the others also caught up.
The corridor appeared to last forever, the Nations were exhausted from all that had occurred; all they wanted was to be home, and for all this to be a dream. A familiar laugh echoed through the stone hallway; they all glanced over their shoulders, recognising the spectres one more time.
"Quickly, everyone, we need to get out!" England yelled, taking control.
Gunshots.
A cry of pain.
Austria's body crumpled to the ground, his back littered with bullet-holes; but the shots continued to ricochet against the walls, narrowly missing everyone else. They had no time to lose, they couldn't say goodbye to their fallen comrade; they needed to escape!
The final run had begun; everyone was dashing for their lives. Three more had been lost, but the remaining seven Nations were determined to ensure that their deaths were not in vain.
Author's note:
Apologies for a late chapter again! This was the first chapter for this story that I had to write entirely from scratch, and details from my planned plot were very minimal, hence the quick scene changes and lack of explanation in areas.
There are around two more chapters of the whole story; however, the ending, I feel, may not make some of you happy. So, I will be writing two endings: the first being the ending I intended when I first came up with this story, and the other being an ending, perhaps, more fitting to the whole story. Then I'll let you decide which ending you prefer as the readers!
Thank you so much for reading everyone! Three weeks left on Lower Your Ghostly Sword, then perhaps updates on Finding His Queen will become more frequent since it's the only one I'll be working on, once this is finished. See you next week!