Thanks to LakeAkkiran for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 2

Matthew stared at the canopied bed. It looked more expensive than their entire house, and Matthew didn't think that he could ever sleep in a bed like that. He turned to Arthur, who was waiting at the door.

"Th-this is too much!" he stammered. "Don't you have a… smaller room, or something?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

"Are you saying that you would much rather sleep in the servant quarters?" Arthur asked.

"I… Wait, this place still has servant quarters?" Matthew asked.

"Well, it is far from civilisation. We all have to sleep somewhere. Also, if it helps you, master Feliciano chose this room for you specifically."

"Oh, then, I guess… thank you."

Arthur inclined his head.

"There is a bell on the table over there," Arthur said. "If there's anything else you need, just ring it, and I will come as soon as I can."

"Um, thank you," Matthew said.

"I must say, if you don't mind me saying so, you're a lot easier to deal with than your brothers."

Matthew smiled, despite himself.

"I know that they can be a bit… much," he said. "Thank you for tolerating us. And… for letting us stay."

Arthur nodded, before he walked away. Matthew turned back to the bed and sighed. Was it really alright for him to stay in a bed like that?

There's also something else that bothered him. It was a sense of discomfort and, if he had to pick a sensation, dread. He didn't know why. He couldn't see anything wrong with the room, so why did he feel like this?

He flinched at a particularly loud crack of thunder, and then Alfred screamed. Matthew spun on his heels, just as Alfred burst into his room and tackled Matthew in a hug.

"Al," Matthew sighed. "Aren't you too old to be scared of thunder and lightning?"

"Dude, go look outside!" Alfred said. "This place is haunted!"

Matthew frowned. He managed to pull himself free from his brother and walked towards the window. He pulled the curtains aside, just as lightning flashed. Matthew blinked, his mind processing the scene that the lightning had briefly illuminated.

"It's… a graveyard," Matthew said.

"What's going on?" Jason asked, running into the room as well. "I heard Al screaming."

"Dude, this place is haunted!" Alfred insisted.

"There's a graveyard outside," Matthew explained. "Al, this place is pretty isolated, and I'm pretty sure it's old. The owners throughout the years needed somewhere to bury their dead. And I've told you a thousand times, there's no such thing as ghosts."

"Want a bet?"

Alfred yelped and spun around. At the door was the third brother. He didn't quite look like Feliciano, and he most definitely didn't look like Lovino.

"You must be the third brother," Matthew said.

"Si," he said. "I'm Marcello. I'm the youngest of the Vargas brothers. I heard we had guests, and had to see it for myself. I can't imagine that my father or Lovino would allow it."

"Well, there were some… issues."

"What did you mean?" Jason asked. "You asked if Matt wanted a bet. What did that mean?"

"Well, there are ghosts in this house," Marcello said. "I just wanted to know if he was so sure about there being no such thing."

"Did you see them?" Alfred asked.

"Si. A lot. They're mostly active at night. I'd be careful, though. Only a few of them are harmless."

"Normally, when there are ghosts, there's something that happened," Jason said. "A story that people say is the reason why the place is haunted. So, how many people died, and how did they die?"

"I think it was a couple of dozen," Marcello said, tapping his chin. "As for how they died… Well, how does mass murder and suicide sound?"

"…Excessive," Matthew said. "So… what's the story?"

"I thought you don't believe in ghosts?" Marcello had a grin on his face.

"I don't. But the stories are usually pretty interesting. So… What happened?"

"Okay. So, it happened about a hundred years ago. The master of the house had three sons, and a lot of servants. And the middle son fell in love with one of the servants. It was quite a scandal when people found out about their relationship."

"What, just because a rich guy fell in love with a maid?" Jason asked.

"Both of them were men. And in those days… that was really not acceptable."

"…Oh."

"Anyway, the master of the house tried to keep the two of them apart. He locked his son in his room, and the servant wasn't allowed to go near him. He also gave the other servants the orders to make his life as miserable as possible."

"Why didn't he just fire the servant? Problem solved, right?"

"There were other complications, and the master of the house couldn't just dismiss his servants. So, the first time that the two of them would have been able to see each other again was at this huge party that the master of the house hosted. A lot of his business associates came. The two had to pretend as though nothing was wrong. But they arranged to meet each other, in this very room, later that night. But when the son came to this room, it was to find his lover dead."

"Did he kill himself?" Alfred asked.

"No. The circumstances of his death were unclear, but everyone could see that he was murdered. The son screamed for help to find the killer, but everyone just dismissed it. The victim was no one important. They weren't going to waste their time looking for the person that got rid of trash, as some of the people said."

Matthew's throat tightened. Hearing this story… He felt overwhelming sorrow for the two lovers, who were denied the chance to be together due to society's pathetic rules. And how could those people have dismissed a human life like that? Marcello's face darkened at the next part.

"The middle son was shocked, of course," Marcello continued. "And then he got sad. And then mad. So mad. And then he just… snapped. His father, his brothers, the people who worked with his lover, and even his friends… Everyone dismissed his loss. Some of them were laughing, others mocking. The son decided that all of these people were trash."

"Just like they said about his lover," Matthew whispered. "What happened then?"

"He slipped into the kitchen and got his hands on a bottle of poison. He then slipped the entire bottle into the dessert while no one was looking. And then he took a knife. The guests all died from the poison. But his father, his brothers and the rest of the servants… He made sure that they all knew what it felt like to be stabbed."

"Okay, that's pretty messed up," Alfred said. "He killed all of them?"

"Yes. After he finished, the clock chimed. He hadn't gotten rid of all his anger yet, so he smashed the clock. He smashed it thirteen times. And then he came back to this room, where he was supposed to meet his lover, where he'd found his lover's corpse, and he killed himself. But the violence and rage and the sorrow from that night cast a curse. None of the people that the son killed was allowed to leave, including himself. But his lover was not there."

"So… a-all of those people are…?"

"Dozens of ghosts, wandering these halls. It's fine, most of the time."

"What do you mean, 'most of the time'?" Jason asked.

"He smashed the clock thirteen times. And every now and again, the clock chimes thirteen. When that happens… things can get a bit… weird. All of the ghosts are awake, and the house itself seems to come alive. Don't even attempt to go anywhere when the clock chimes thirteen. You'll go everywhere except the place where you want to go."

Matthew shuddered. He didn't believe in ghosts, but what Marcello just described… It was too elaborate, too detailed. And the part about the clock… Matthew didn't know what to think.

"You said that everything happened in this room, right?" Alfred asked. "That means… i-it's the most haunted room in the house, right?"

"Um, not really," Marcello said. "Only the ghost of the middle son can get in here, and, theoretically, the lover's killer. This room is pretty much the safest room in the house. But seeing as the ghost of a mass murderer can get in here…"

"…It's also not the best place to be." Alfred clapped his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "Matt, I'm so glad it's you and not me."

Matthew glared at his brother, and Jason rolled his eyes.

"Al, you do hear what you're saying, right?" Jason asked.

"What did I say?" Alfred asked.

"Anyway, I should probably go," Marcello said. "Have a nice night."

Marcello walked away, and the three brothers remained like that for a long time.

"I think he did that on purpose," Alfred said.

"You mean, tell us a scary story before we're supposed to go to sleep?" Jason asked. "I think you're right. Ass."

"At least ghosts aren't real," Matthew said. "Now, could you two please get out of my room?"

…

He was cleaning the walls. It seemed like a ridiculous task to do, but he had to wash the walls, or at least the panelling on the lower half of the walls. He was too short to clean the windows, even if he stood on a chair, and they didn't trust him enough to let him clean the vases. So he was cleaning the walls. And then he needed to clean the floors.

No one bothered him while he was doing his task. Most of the other servants were older than him, and they didn't have a reason to entertain a child. He had only been there a week, but he was already getting used to not mattering.

People came and went, not acknowledging the child. And then, someone stopped. He turned around, and a boy around his own age stood behind him. The clothes he wore were far better than anything he'd ever had. He knew who this was, of course. It was one of his master's sons.

"You're new here, aren't you?" the boy asked. "How old are you?"

"I-I'm ten," he answered.

"Oh, we're the same age! Come on! My big brother is too busy, and my little brother is too sick. They can't play with me. So, you can play with me!"

He felt a chill. While he would have liked to play with the boy, he knew that he would get in trouble if he shirked his work. Even if it was something as useless as cleaning the wall.

"I can't," he said. "I need to work. I would like to, but I'll get in trouble."

"…If you won't get in trouble, do you want to play?" the boy asked.

He nodded. The boy ran off, and tears stung his eyes. He wanted so much to be an ordinary child. One who had parents that loved him. One who could play with other children.

Heavier footsteps came down the hall, and he looked up. The butler, who managed all the affairs of the servants and who assigned tasks, came down the hall, with the boy walking behind him. He didn't know if he should be scared or not.

"The young master wishes for a playmate," the butler said. "You are the only one here of his age who can entertain him. When the young master calls for you, you are permitted to keep him company. But when he is occupied with his lessons, then you are expected to continue with your work. Understood?"

His eyes widened, and he nodded. He tried not to smile. The boy was smiling enough for both of them.

"Now, put the cleaning supplies away, and then you can join the young master," the butler said. "I will inform the master about the new arrangement."

He nodded again. He couldn't believe his luck. He just hoped that the boy wouldn't be disappointed to have him as a playmate.

…

BOOM!

Matthew jumped, startling awake. He didn't think that the rain could fall harder, or that the thunder would be louder, or the wind stronger. But that was clearly the case. He was glad that they weren't spending the night in the car. He didn't think that it would have been safe.

And now he was worried about the state of the car.

He tried to close his eyes to fall back asleep, but after a while, he became aware that it wouldn't be possible. His mouth and throat were dry. He needed water.

He grabbed his phone and checked the time. It was almost midnight. He then used the light of the phone to look around the room. There had to be a pitcher of water there. But there was nothing. His eyes fell on the bell, but he decided to dismiss it. Even if Arthur would have been able to hear him, it was far too late to disturb him.

The kitchen had to be close to the dining room. So, all he needed to do was retrace their steps. He hoped that no one would be angry that he went to get water in the kitchen.

He climbed out of bed, his feet feeling the soft carpet. Just in case, he put on his shoes again. He walked towards the door and opened it. He hesitated for a moment before he stepped outside, and the moment he was outside, he felt a shiver go down his body. It was so much colder outside than it was inside. Luckily, he could handle the cold a lot better than Alfred could.

He left the door open and walked down the hall, pausing at some point and just staring at the wall. He had a strange dream. Why would they force a child to clean the walls? And why would they even have a child working for them in the first place? But the clothes were a bit dated, so perhaps it was normal for the time period or something?

There were two other people in the dream, but he couldn't remember their faces or voices. They said something about the servant becoming the young master's playmate. Why would he have a dream like that? Was it because of the story Marcello told them?

He shook his head, before he jumped. He hadn't realised that he had started moving again, and he had somehow made it to the kitchen. He looked around, seeing all of the cabinets, before focusing on one in particular. He frowned, walking towards the cabinet. He opened it and found glasses.

"Weird…" Matthew muttered.

He took one of the glasses and walked over towards the sink. He poured himself some water and downed the glass, before he poured another glass.

"What are you doing here?"

Matthew jumped, spilling the water over his hand, before he turned around. Someone stood behind him, but it was too dark to see any features.

"I-I'm sorry!" Matthew sputtered. "I-I was thirsty, and I wanted some water. Sorry for intruding."

The man lit a lantern, and Matthew could make out some of his features. He had dark hair tied in a ponytail and golden eyes.

"Are you one of the guests?" the man asked. "The ones who were caught in the rain?"

"Y-yes," Matthew stammered. "I'm Matthew. Um… May I ask who you are?"

"What does it matter? I'm just a servant in this house."

"I'd still like to know what your name is."

The man was silent for a long moment.

"Yao," he said at last.

"Oh, you're the cook. Your food was delicious."

Yao's mouth twitched.

"Of course it was," he said. "But I appreciate you saying so. Now, did you drink enough water?"

Matthew blushed slightly, and he quickly turned off the tap. He had been so distracted that he hadn't realised that it was still running. He then turned back to Yao and nodded, holding up the glass.

"I can take a pitcher of water to your room," Yao said. "Then you shouldn't have to come back. It's not wise to wander these hallways at night, especially if you aren't used to this house. I will come with you, to make sure that you reach your room."

"Thank you," Matthew said. "But I don't want to be a bother. You probably would like to go to bed too."

Yao turned towards the door, and he shuddered slightly.

"You shouldn't be out here this late at night," Yao said. "You could easily get lost. And if my master or his sons find you… You would be in a lot of trouble."

Matthew jumped as something crashed in a nearby room. Yao turned and bit his lip.

"I can't be with you," he whispered. "I'm sorry. Go back through that door, then go right. Go straight when you reach the stairs, then go up. I'm sure you can find your room then."

Matthew nodded. Yao had been so insistent, but then he completely switched gears. It was odd. And then, for some strange reason, Yao put out his lantern. Matthew waited, but nothing else was done or said. Was Yao still there?

"I-I'll be going now," Matthew said. "Thank you for your help."

He quickly downed the glass of water, before he followed Yao's instructions. He still had his phone with him, which he could use as a light. He managed to get to the dining room just fine, and he went towards the door to the right. Just before he could open it, he heard something coming from his left.

It sounded like music, but who would be playing music at this time of night? Not to mention, the rain was coming down very hard outside. It was a miracle that Matthew was able to hear it at all.

Matthew hesitated. He knew that he needed to get back to his room, but the song enticed him. He was sure that he had heard that song somewhere before, but he couldn't remember from where. And the more he thought about it, the more it frustrated him.

And so, instead of going through the door that Yao told him to go through, Matthew turned towards the third door of the room.

Somewhere inside the house, the clock began to chime.