Why Sealand Can't Plan a Prank (And Why You Shouldn't Let Belarus Help Him)

Part 2

              "Who in their right mind would schedule a meeting on a holiday? This is a pain in the arse," Britain complained, impatiently patting down a stubborn cowlick sticking up off the side of his head. He stared uneasily up at the shabby three-story building in front of him. "And where are the rest of the nations?"

             "I'm not sure. They could just be late," Germany said, though he didn't sound very sure. They had all noticed the other countries' cars parked near the meeting place when they arrived, but the vehicle's owners had yet to make an appearance.

             "That would be like them," Norway sighed, approaching the door. He tried to open it but found that it wouldn't budge. "Are you sure this is the right meeting address? The door is locked, not to mention that this place looks awfully rundown," he commented.

             "This is the address that we all received in the mail, is it not?" Germany asked gruffly.

             "It is, I'm sure of it!" Lithuania interjected. Sweden nodded to confirm the statement.

             "Let me try the door," Russia implored with his usual smile. Norway stepped aside and then blinked in surprise as the rusty doorknob twisted easily under Russia's touch and the door flew open with a loud squeal. The hallway that lay beyond it was pitch-dark.

             "Should... should we go in?" Canada whispered, his voice even more hushed than usual.

             Several frightened nations jumped about a foot into the air.

             "Oh! You're right there, Canada! I didn't even see—oh, nevermind, that's rude. I'm sorry!" Lithuania gushed as soon as he landed back on the ground.

             "It's fine," Canada said sullenly, "It happens all the time." Where was Prussia, he wondered. Prussia never forgot about him.

             "Like, let's go in!" Hong Kong grinned and strode up to the door. "I was supposed to be taking notes and stuff at this meeting, but this place is super ghetto-ish! I don't even think there IS a meeting!"

             "Are you sure we should go in there? As you said, this building doesn't look very stable," Britain inquired, staring into the gloomy room.

             "I don't see the harm. If there really is a meeting of some kind, it wouldn't be very good of us to be late," Russia commented pleasantly, leading the way into the hall without hesitation. Lithuania nervously followed suit and sighed with relief when he was trailed by Britain, Hong Kong, Switzerland, Greece, Germany, Romano, Canada, Norway, and Sweden. (A/N: Whee, the whole cast is here!)

             Stalking down the hallway in complete darkness, each nation began to feel more and more on edge. Strange shuffling sounds could be heard all around, but none could be sure if it was their own companion's footsteps or something else... or someone else. The assembled personifications had traveled about 100 meters when Canada piped up from the back of the group, "Does anyone have a flashlight?"

             Lithuania cursed his own stupidity as he pulled his smartphone from his pocket. "Of course! I have my phone right here. I am so sorry I did not do the thinking of that before!"

             "No, it's alright, eh? None of the rest of us thought of it until now either," Canada assured him.

              Lithuania nodded numbly, then tapped his phone screen several times before it lit up, illuminating the room they had entered. There were several small light fixtures dotting the walls, but the nations couldn't find any kind of switch with which to turn them on. A single door, painted blood-red, stood in one corner, both inviting and terrifying at once. More flashlights flickered on as they split up to traverse the room, and the countries eventually stumbled across a slit in the wall. Lithuania held his flashlight up to it and ran his fingers over the little notch, confused.