Hetalia One Shots!

"Suffocating Darkness"

  "Arthur!! Wake up! Come on!! We need to go!!"  A quiet voice whispered into his ear. When he sighed and rolled over in his bed, the person shook him.
  "Agh! Fine!! Jeez, you don't need-" Arthur grumbled loudly before a hand was placed over his mouth. His green eyes flicked angrily at the face who'd done this and recognized his brother, Alfred.
  But his voice hadn't sounded like Alfred. No. Not at all.
  Arthur pried his brother's hand from his mouth and whispered in reply. "Alfred? What is happening, and why do we have to whisper??!"
  A look of confusion flashed hurriedly like a wave through Alfred's blue eyes, almost in disbelief. Without telling Arthur anything, Alfred placed the back of his hand on Arthur's forehead.
  "Well, he's not sick..." Alfred muttered under his breath.
  "Of course-" Arthur paused at the look in his brother's eyes, then sighed. "Well, of course I'm not sick! Why would I be?"
  His brother appeared concerned, but did not answer. Suddenly a bright flash of blue light shot through in between the wooden boards that made up the room.
  Alfred pulled Arthur to the floor and under the bed in an instant. They lay there, pushing roughly together like sardines. Alfred put his hand over Arthur's mouth, and Arthur didn't have the room to protest.
  It was in this time when the light lit up the room that Arthur saw where he was. The room was tiny, made up of small, flimsy wooden boards. Nothing except for a wooden crate and the bed was inside, and it's not like the boards could hold up that.
  The wood where the bed and crate lay was bending and making curious creaking noises. The bed itself was nothing more than a bloodstained blue and white striped mattress on a thin wire frame. Arthur remembered a wool rag as a blanket, but no pillow.
  The door was on a far wall away from the bed. It had large punch marks through it, and some bullet holes too. It barely seemed to serve as a door, seeing as it was practically hanging from its hinges.
  When the light vanished rather mysteriously, Alfred pushed Arthur out from under the bed and crawled out behind him. He pulled Arthur to his feet, rather forcibly, and ran for the door.
  "Grab your blanket, and let's go!"
  Arthur nodded, not feeling too safe in that room anyways. He grabbed the blanket and followed Alfred into the dark.
  He held Alfred's hand, since he couldn't see in the dark just yet. It was silent between the two, with the occasional whisper of warning about a hole or a flight of stairs from Alfred.
  Arthur adjusted to the dark somewhat quickly, and let go of his brother's hand, a fact that he was happy about. Being the older, and usually smarter, brother, he didn't like being led around by Alfred.
  He began to realize that the room had been fairly high up, considering the fact that they had been down at least six large flights of stairs, and still weren't to the bottom.
  "Alfred, you still haven't told me what's going on! I demand some answers!" Arthur whispered after a while, finding the inky black silence to be a tad too unnerving, and the curiousness that clouded his brain was not helping.
  "I just..." Alfred chuckled slightly, and Arthur smiled. That sounded like his brother. "I just can't believe you don't remember. You were only asleep for twenty minutes!"
  Arthur scoffed. It seemed like he'd been asleep for an eternity, his grogginess still pulling his eyelids down tantalizingly. "Well, jog my memory."
  Alfred stopped at a door and tried opening it, but it was locked. "What?!" He breathed furiously as he began to almost pull the doorknob off in rage. "How is this locked??!" He sighed and rubbed his head.
  It was then that Arthur realized that Alfred had a shaved head. He gasped, having never seen his hair any other way than it had always been. He raised a hand to his own head to find his hair to be cut very short. Not shaved, but close.
  "Stand back."
  Arthur complied to Alfred's wish, and Alfred kicked the door down with a grunt.
  Alfred stepped cautiously into the new hall, and Arthur went to follow, only to be pushed back into the stairwell. "You're not armed." He hissed, as if it was public knowledge.
  "Yeah, am I supposed to be?"
  Alfred chuckled, though it sounded strange. He gazed up at Arthur with a gaze of complete disbelief. "You really don't remember, do ya?"
  He looked back at the hall, then back at his brother. "If that door was locked, from the outside, it means some fucker locked us in here. Meaning that they're still out there." He pointed accusingly at the open doorway. "Meaning they heard me knock down the door. Meaning they're coming for us."
  Arthur swallowed thickly and nodded.
  "So I'm going to get 'em before they get us."  Alfred stared at Arthur seriously, a crazed look in his eyes. That look scared Arthur.
  He then left Arthur in the stairwell and mouthed the words 'I'll come back for you.'
  Arthur watched his brother until he was swallowed up by the dark, which wasn't long. He stood for a few minutes, maybe six before he decided to sit down.
  A pit was twisting up his guts, because he had no way to gauge time. What felt like an eternity could've been ten minutes. Or it could've been an eternity. When Arthur heard no gunshots and no one came back after what he could only guess was two hours, Arthur left to look for Alfred.
  He stepped into the hall and took a left, the same way that Alfred had gone. He walked for a while, until there was another door leading to the left. Arthur paused. Should he keep going forward, or go left?
  He looked through a hole in the side of the door and saw nothing but pitch black. He felt so powerless and stupid for doing this. He had absolutely no idea where he was, he didn't know where his brother was, and he had no other weapon than a flimsy blanket.
  Arthur slid to his feet and held his face in his hands. And he cried. He cried because of how helpless he was. He was no better than a little kid. When he heard footsteps approach from behind the door, Arthur practically leaped to his feet.
  Being surrounded by darkness with the only sound being your sobs was rather scary, but hearing something else in the darkness that you couldn't see was terrifying.
  Arthur peeked through the hole and saw what appeared to be human, male, walking towards the door. He didn't know what to do!! Should he run? No, the floor here was cement, the guy would hear him.
  The door opened suddenly, causing Arthur to jump up slightly.
  The man behind the door gasped and raised what looked to be a handgun. Alfred's handgun.
  But this man wasn't Alfred.
  At the sight of the gun, Arthur ran to his right. The man shot, but because of Arthur's flight and how dark it was,  it only hit his thigh.
  "Ah, shit!!" Arthur yelled as he fell to the floor with a thud. The fall hurt, bad. His vision blurred momentarily, and he saw flashes of light. But adrenaline was pumping through his veins, and he got back up, cursing because of the shooting pain throughout his leg.
  The man turned the corner and aimed again.
  Arthur leaped for the floor, feeling the bullet graze his head. He fell at the man's feet and pulled him down with all of his might.  The man fell with a scream, and hit his head reasonably hard on the ground.
  Arthur reached for the gun, but the man had too hard a grip on it. The man got back to his senses, and shot again, this time going through Arthur's left hand. "God damn it!!!" He cried and felt tears sting his eyes.
  Arthur reached for the blanket, which lay discarded behind them, and pinned the guy to the ground. The man tried to fire his gun, but it was out of bullets. He smacked Arthur's wounded thigh with the handle of his gun, and Arthur screamed something that sounded mildly like a swear word.
  With the blanket in hand, Arthur wrapped it around the man's face and held it there with all of his might.  The man began to scream. Angry at first, then real terror shook through his voice. It sounded like he was yelling 'please', but Arthur couldn't tell.
  The screams sent shivers of guilt down his spine, and he wanted to cover his ears, but both hands were being used to cover the man's face.
  The man was kicking furiously, his arms flinging about uselessly. A minute passed, and the man stopped twitching.
  Arthur scrambled away with shuddering breath. He just killed someone. He just killed someone. He began to string together a flurry of unintelligible swear words as he rocked back and forth. He just fucking killed someone.
  "Oh dear God...." He sobbed as he stared at the man's lifeless corpse. Arthur looked at his hands, and though the blood on them was his, it seemed sickly, as if it were there to remind him of his sins.
  The feeling of lifting away your hands from a person you just killed was strange. Your hands seemed to weigh a million pounds, not wanting to move. Not wanting to accept that'd you'd actually committed that despicable act. That maybe if your hands were there, you'd still be killing them, with a chance to stop and save their life.
  The air seemed to grow thick once the man was quiet, as if his soul was taking up the room, surrounding and suffocating Arthur with guilt.
   After taking a few deep breaths, Arthur crawled over the body and grabbed the man's knapsack. He found cans of vegetables, well expired, a knife, a piece of paper, and a rag that appeared to have once been a scarf.
  He ripped the scarf in half and wrapped some around his hand and thigh. Arthur then checked the paper, noticing Alfred's handwriting in pen.
  It was a hand drawn map, showing a large rectangle labeled 'home', a couple of landmarks, and a smaller triangle in between two buildings labeled 'Ludwig's'. Arthur sighed happily at the sight of someone's name that he recognized. He folded up the map, knowing where he was going to next, and stuffed it in his pocket.
  Arthur pulled the gun from the man's hand, having to pry the fingers away from the handle. He inspected the gun carefully, seeing the name 'Alfred' engraved in the handle.
  Arthur weeped and clutched the gun tightly to his chest, knowing that this was all that was left of his brother. He struggled to stand, from the extreme pain in his leg. He stumbled haphazardly through the open door.
  He didn't have to walk far to see his brother's body. Arthur didn't even look at it, knowing that he was dead. He stepped over the corpse with tears streaming down his face.
  It was then that he heard his brother's voice.
  "D-doN't LeaVe mE."
  Arthur spun on his heel to see his brother stand up, two bullet holes in his chest and one in his arm.  "Oh dear Lord--!" Arthur sobbed as his brother smiled wickedly.
  It was his brother's body, but his brother was dead. You could see it in his eyes. They seemed dull, lightly glazed over, failing to fill the spots where the glimmer of life was supposed to lie.
  "N-no! Please!" Arthur cried, noticing Alfred's smile grow. Arthur ran in the opposite direction, hearing Alfred's laughter waft by his ear.
  Arthur was never too in shape, a mistake that he deeply regretted now. His brother, on the other hand, was in literally every sport through their schooling, and was doing sports in college.
  So, Alfred caught up to his brother easily and tackled him to the floor. At this point, Arthur was screaming like a madman, hoping desperately that someone would hear him. But the only person able to hear him was laying dead in the hallway, face covered with a blanket.
  "I caUghT yOU~" Alfred sang with a sick chuckle lacing his words. He wrapped his arms around Arthur's torso, and slowly began to tighten, like some kind of boa constrictor. It was only when his hands slid lower, did Arthur awaken with an ear splitting cry.

  He fell from someone's grasp and onto the hardwood floor with a thud. Arthur sighed in pain as he rubbed his head. He blinked a few times, seeing pale lavender walls and white lace curtains.
  "Arty?" A voice whispered from above him as a light flicked on.
  Arthur whipped his head around to see Francis looking down at him from on top of the bed. Francis raised an eyebrow when Arthur began laughing.
  "It was a dream!!" Arthur cried.
  Francis sighed, nodding slightly. "I'm glad. I thought I hurt you..."
  Arthur crawled from the floor back into bed and hugged Francis tightly.
  "Ooh~" Francis hummed and pulled him closer, excited that Arthur was showing him any signs of affection. "Now I think I might be dreaming..."
  "Oh God, Francis, you have no idea how bad it was!! It seemed so...so real!! Alfred and I were somewhere dark, and I killed a guy, and Alfred was dead, but then he, he- agh....." Arthur sighed. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you!!"
  Francis turned his head down and glanced in between Arthur's legs. "You don't look too happy..."
  "Not that kind of happy, you pervert."
  Francis chuckled and smiled. "I was joking, Arty."
  "Don't call me that."
  A pretend pout crossed Francis' face, but he didn't press the matter. "Oh, it looks like you have a boo-boo. Must've gotten it from your fall..." Francis whispered as he poked a large bruise on Arthur's side.
  "It appears I do- OW! It hurts when you do that, Franny." He growled. "And hey, why am I shirtless?!?"
  Francis ignored him, leaned over, and softly kissed the bruise.
  "Hey!! Answer me! And what are you doing?? Your stubble tickles..." Arthur yelled with a blush.
  Francis gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes. "I'm kissing your boo-boo." He batted his thick eyelashes innocently, though the look in his eyes was anything but innocent.
  "Uh huh." Arthur huffed sarcastically. "Well, that dream was literal hell as far as I'm concerned. You should've seen-- WHY ARE YOU NAKED??!?!?!!?!?!!??!"

  A.N.
  Yeah, I have no idea what this is, it's pretty shitty I bet. Have fun I guess.
  Also, PLEASE REQUEST!!