Masquerade of Murder Pt. 1

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NOTES:

A) I own none of the art used here; credit to all of the original artists. Credit also to Hima, seeing as I (and the artist, technically) own none of these characters at all.

B) I am not fond of cursing and am rather uncomfortable with myself doing it, but seeing as this is a 2p!Hetalia fanfiction, foul language is to be expected. Therefore I have 'censored' more serious ones (i.e. f*ck and sh*t), and then left more minor ones alone (i.e. hell and damn). I apologize if it takes away from the story; that was not my intention.

C) If you disagree with how I wrote the 2p!Hetalia characters, please message me - don't leave a comment about it (especially one that could be interpreted as rude). None of the characters are official as far as personality, so I used artistic license to toy around with them a bit.

CAST:

In case you don't recognize some of the characters, seeing as I used their human names.

Allen - 2p!America
Matt - 2p!Canada
Francois - 2p!France
Oliver - 2p!England
Kuro - 2p!Japan
Viktor - 2p!Russia
Natasha - 2p!Belarus
Thurston - 2p!Finland
Ronald - 2p!Austria
Julia - 2p!Hungary
Lutz - 2p!Germany
Klaus - 2p!Prussia [briefly mentioned]
Luciano - 2p!Italy
Flavio - 2p!Romano

Now that's all out of the way, I hope you enjoy part 1 of Masquerade of Murder!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An all too familiar sigh left their lips as they moved their black chess piece forward and gently tapped over the white king. "Checkmate."

The person opposite them chuckled. "Have you become bored, my old friend?"

"You say it as if it's something new, Luciano," the winner of the match said bitterly. "Nothing holds my interest these days."

"Then why not try a new game?" the Italian suggested, casually sitting back in his seat. "It could be good for you."

The victor's eyes seemed to flash, even in the dim lighting. "Yes," they said slowly, a smirk dancing on their lips as they stared almost hungrily at their partner. "Let's."

xXxXxXx

Allen glanced at his watch, sighing. He was five minutes late - not that there was anything he could do about it. He quickly put on his mask before knocking on the door. Within seconds it opened, revealing a tall, muscular man with charcoal-colored hair.

It was the hair that immediately told Allen who it was.

"Hello, Viktor," he said, his lip curling in distaste. "Fancy meeting you here."

The Russian butler pointedly ignored the crimson-eyed teen's words, extending a gloved hand to him. "Invitation, please."

Allen rolled his eyes but handed the small piece of cardstock over to him. "I don't know why you think I'd come all the way over here if I hadn't been invited."

Viktor briefly glanced at the invitation before returning it to the teen and stepping out of the way. "You may proceed."

Allen rolled his eyes a second time but walked past him, heading down the hall toward what he presumed to be a living room of sorts. Upon entering, he noticed that a few people had arrived and were mingling already, including... No way. It couldn't be. He almost laughed out loud. "Hey, Matt," he called, walking over to where his 'brother' was standing near the couch. "You didn't tell me you were invited to this masquerade thing."

The Canadian sighed, rolling his violet eyes. "Maybe because the invitation said not to speak of it, dumb*ss?"

Allen shrugged, smirking. "Well, you've never been one to follow any type of rules, so I figured you'd have broken that one long ago."

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