21When you're rife with devastation,
There's a simple explanation,
You're a toymaker's creation,
Trapped inside a crystal ball,
The purple eyed "queen" sat in front of the chess board toying with the pieces absent mindedly. On the board still where two white rooks, a black bishop, a black queen, and a handful of white pawns huddled in the corner.
He picked up one of the white pawns and examined it, placing it in between the queen and the two white rooks as a line of defense. Next to it he placed the bishop, a figurative knife to the pawn's throat.
The purple-eyed man sighed and tipped over the pawn, watching it roll off the board and fall next to two black pawns and four more white pawns. The two rooks advanced. He moved the queen forward, directly in front of the two rooks. Now that the other white pawns were unguarded, they swelled and surrounded the queen.
He narrowed his eyes at this predicament. He moved his bishop next to the mob but it toppled over and rolled off the board. He scowled at the board. He was surrounded. He had no other pieces to move. He hesitantly tipped over the queen.
The rooks advanced to the edge of the board.
The purple-eyed man growled at the overabundance of white on the board, but then he found his hand reaching for another piece. He stared at it with bewildered eyes before he grinned and knocked over one of the rooks, replacing it with the black piece.
He leaned back to appreciate his work. Yes. It wasn't how he had originally planned it, but this would do.
He tipped the board and all the pieces fell to the floor. Yes. This would do nicely.
And whichever way he tilts it,
Know that we must be resilient,
We won't let him break our spirits,
As we sing our silly song!
Germany rested his hand on Italy's shoulder. It hadn't been Holy Roman Empire- it had just been another trick to get them to comply.
"Come on. We'll make them pay for this," Germany said to the sobbing Italian. Italy nodded and stood up.
"We have to find them… and end them…"
Germany nodded cautiously at him. Italy still wasn't quite right in the head, but that would cure after they got out of this situation. For now, they just had to find out who was behind this, and either get them to surrender the other key, or end their life and take it from them.
"The traitor is 11, so that leaves us with a fairly short list of subjects. Without England's magic, and without Sealand's mind tricks, they should be fairly easy to catch."
Germany took out his list of room numbers. 111A- America, 111B- Canada, 181- China, 211- Russia, 281- Denmark, 311- Belarus, 381- England and Sealand."
"All that's left is America, Canada, China, Russia, Denmark, and Belarus," Italy commented
"So now what? Do we just question them?"
"I think we need to find out who it is before we talk to them. We have to know for sure."
While the two of them were trying to figure out who the last pawn was, something else was going on in the yard. Something that invoked a scream that carried all the way to the duo's ears'.
They ran down the halls and out into the yard.
Practically every country was gathered by the gate, where the manor's receptionist stood with a knife to Romano's throat.
When I was little filly,
A galloping blaze overtook my city,
They shipped me off to the orphanage,
Said, "Ditch those roots if you wanna fit in!"
"Romano!" Italy cried out, running towards his brother.
"Not another step!" the receptionist said, "Nooooow. Weee seeeeeeem toooo haaave a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle problem. Wouldn't you say, Italy? Germany?"
She paused to look the two over, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"You see I have the keys you need." She held up two keys. "One for Prussia, and one for Romano here. Now, Germany, you've earned this one," she said, tossing one of the keys to Germany.
"But if Italy doesn't do as he's told, then I'm afraid this key will never see the light of another day, and you'll be trapped here forever."
"Or we could just kill you and take it," Italy said menacingly, causing some sharp gasps from the crowd of countries who were huddled by the locked gates.
" 'Fraid not, sweetheart." As if to demonstrate, she waved her hand and the key disappeared. She released Romano and pushed him towards his brother. "Now do as you're told, children."
Italy barely paused before charging forward with his knife.
So I dug one thousand holes,
And cut a rug with orphan foals,
Italy slashed his knife from side to side, easily cutting into his brother's uniform and the flesh underneath. Germany charged forward to stop Italy, but it was too late.
Romano collapsed gasping in a pool of his own blood- the grass turning red beneath him.
"My, my, you are obedient," the woman remarked, "Very well, you've earned this." She tossed the key at Italy. "Take it and go. You've won. Congratulations." She took out a party buzzer and blew into it unenthusiastically.
But they'd come too far to just leave like that.
"But there's still a traitor here," Italy whispered, "We're not leaving until all the traitors are dead."
The woman took a step forward, but a voice called out for her to stop. One of the nations from the crowd stepped forward.
The nations parted as the man stepped out into the open, his eyes gleaming violently.
"M-Mister America?!" someone in the crowd gasped.
Now memories are blurred,
And their faces are obscured,
But I still know the words to this song,
"No," the man said, turning back to throw a knife at whoever had said it. Evidently, it was Lithuania, who collapsed onto the pavement in front of the gate. Oops.
"Canada!" the real America shouted, "What the fuck dude?"
Canada ignored this question, and instead turned back to face Italy and Germany.
"So now you know the queen's identity. What will you do with this information? Kill me? Surely you wouldn't be that stupid. Then again, what do you have to lose? You kill me, and everything goes back to normal- or as normal as it can get after so many have died." He glanced back at the crowd momentarily, "But then again, why not? You kill me, you win. Game over. You two have confessed your love for each other by now, you leave here a happy couple, and try to forget everything that's happened, right?"
That was exactly what Germany was thinking. He kept waiting for the 'but…' however it never came. Could they truly 'win' at this point? Or was there another plan at play here?
But Canada said no more. If it was truly Canada. This was not the Canada they know(or ignored). They always said it was the quiet ones who turned out to be psycho murderers, but this was stretching it… a lot. Germany wasn't overly comfortable with this much supernatural, but he gave it a shot.
"You're not… really Canada, are you?"
"What gave it away?" the queen asked sarcastically, "The noticeable presence, or the trying to kill everyone scheme?"
"He's possessed!" someone in the crowd shouted- it was Romania.
"No shit, Sherlock. No wait, that's England's line. Of course he's not here now, is he?"
That quieted him down a bit. But still, with Romania and Norway still alive, maybe they could exorcise him… The two of them whispered to each other in hushed tones.
"Now that still begs the question. What are you going to do? Kill me, AND poor America's little brother? Or let me go and hope for the best? Don't worry, I'll give the quiet one his body back eventually. I only needed to borrow it. In fact, if you go now, I won't even come with."
Now that was a thought. Don't even bother. Just leave this whole mess behind.
"No." America said, "No, because if we let you go, you'll just do this again to someone else!"
"This is a game I rather like to play…"
"Then no!"
"You'd kill your brother just for that? Wow, they are right about you. You do have a seriously twisted sense of nobility. But that's okay. Because one day it will get you killed."
Romania and Norway snuck a ways from the crowd. They had an old jar. They could capture the evil spirit in that.
America knew this, and was distracting the queen from it.
"Twisted as it may be, I can't let you continue on as you are."
"Here. Prove it." The queen tossed him a dagger. "Prove that before there is peace, blood will spill blood. Betray both your brothers."
America winced at that. England was… England was dead. And he never did get to apologize for that- or at the very least let him know that he still cared about him.
"I don't need to," America forced a smile as he nodded to the two men behind the queen, one holding a jar, and the other in the middle of casting a spell.
The queen narrowed his eyes as he realized what had happened. He'd lost. But then… why was he smiling?
Once the spirit was gone, Canada collapsed on the pavement. America rushed to his side.
The receptionist, seeing this development, rushed forward, knife in hand ready to slash anything in her path. She was knocked in the head with a metal pipe.
Everyone looked at Russia.
"What? Now she is no longer problem, da?" he said, as her body disintegrated into ash. Clearly that body was past its expiration date.
"Now what do we do with this?" Romania asked, shaking the jar containing the spirit around.
"We should destroy it," someone muttered.
"Put it on a shelf for the rest of eternity!" someone else called out.
The nations seemed to have differing opinions on it, but no one really had a strong enough opinion to argue it. Most of them were just so in shock that they could hardly process what had happened.
"I'll take it," America finally said, "I can decide what to do with it later."
No one seemed to disagree, so Romania handed the jar to America
When you've bungled all your bangles,
And your loved ones have been mangled,
Listen to the jingle-jangle of my gyspy tambourine,
America sat on the edge of the hill, jar in his hands, pondering what to do with it. Romania had instructed him that if he wanted to destroy the spirit, all he'd have to do was smash the jar. (He'd also been told that under no circumstances should he open the jar- which would release the spirit into the world again)
He set the jar down and looked out over the hills. He wished England were still around. He wished Prussia were still around. He wished Japan were still around. There were a lot of people he happened to really like who were dead.
He buried his face in his hands. Canada could have died too. He glanced over at the jar. Because of that spirit he'd lost England- he'd almost lost Canada. That thing had cost so many lives- not even counting the unfortunate souls who had wandered into that manor before them.
He should destroy it. He should definitely destroy it.
But then again, if he gave it an eternal prison sentence- wouldn't that be all the better? Would it even repent for its crimes? Probably not. He should just destroy it now- it'd be easier that way.
He picked up the jar and dangled it over the ledge. All it took was one good throw and the jar was broken, the spirit fizzing up into nothingness like soda bubbles.
"Thank you," a voice behind him said, but the hill was deserted… and silent…
"A… a ghost…?" America asked nervously,
He felt the warmth of a young smile before the presence faded entirely. America sighed, he had hoped it was England, haunting him. That would have been great. At least then he wouldn't have to let go…
And these chords are hypnotising,
And the whole world's harmonizing,
So please children stop your crying,
And just sing along with me.
It was about a week after the incident at the manor. Italy had been slightly off since it happened, but he was more or less back to normal.
Of course everyone present had serious psychological damage after that, but they were recovering… slowly, but they were definitely recovering.
Germany and Italy sat next to each other on a small grassy slope, trying to stay together- while also trying to forget.
"Germany?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think this was a happy ending?"
"I…" Germany blinked, "I guess I don't know. We got away unscathed, so… so I guess that's something."
"Unscathed…"
"What is it?"
"I don't think we got away unscathed. Not really."
"I suppose you're right. We lost so many countries…."
"That's not what I mean, Doitsu…"
Germany looked over at Italy, a confused expression on his face. His expression didn't have time to change before the gun was fired.
"Italy…" he muttered, slowly collapsing to the ground.
"Isn't it a beautiful day?" he asked, staring off into the red sunset. "Yes. Today's a good day to be The King."
He sat there next to the deathly silent Germany on a hill, the black chess piece between them.