"Stay avway from my kids," he warned, and the Country scuttled away.

     Sighing, Canada decided to ask America. He's been doting on her for awhile now, so perhaps he knows where she's been. It was a short walk through the worm hole to find the powerful Country playing with his States in the back yard. Arizona was still in a heavy coat as she sat under a heat lamp, giggling through her shivers, only to yell at Utah as he threw a snowball her way. Canada had to duck as Wyoming pounced on him from the newly set up trampoline in the back yard, sending the State flying into a pile of roof-shed snow.

         "You okay?" he chuckled picking up the snow covered boy.

         "Never better!" his buffalo scrunched up on his face as snow melted down his back.

         "Four!"

Canada was struck by a snowball to his head.

         "New Jersey," America scolded, "What did I say about keeping the snowballs from the waist down?"

Canada chuckled as he wiped the remaining snow from his red and white face.

         "But tha' horts worse..." 

The boys around him agreed, and America winced.

         "Alright the chest down." He submitted, and they all cheered, resuming their game, "What's up? Besides that snowball," the patriot inquired with an embarrassed chuckle.

         "I've been looking for Alaska," Canada explained his quest, only to see that this mission was fruitless by the deep frown that covered his brother's face, "You forgot again, didn't you."

America stomped the snow beneath him in his anger at himself.

         "I'm a terrible father..."

        "You're not the one who lets his kids drink vodka," Canada huffed, "I'll go with my only lead then."

         "I'll come wi-"

         "Papa! Come build a snowman with me!"

America turned to see New Mexico waving him down, and sighed.

         "You stay here," Canada chuckled, "I think your hoard needs your attention."

         "Oh, ha. Ha." he adjusted his sunglasses, "You'll tell me if she's alright?" 

         "Of course," Canada assured.

         "Cool. Stay safe Cana-dad."

         "Sure thing A-mom-ica."

         "Ha-... wait what?"

But Canada was already jumping through his self made wormhole, laughing before landing in far from waist deep snow. It confused him... was he not in the right place? No, he was sure he thought of Alaska. Looking up, indeed this was her cabin, though it was strangely odd to see without it's snow covered walls. Looking around, the Canadian saw no tracks, aside from a moose, but those were old, and it seemed to be running. Perhaps Alaska scared it off.

     Stepping up to the porch, the man noticed one thing: the door was ajar. Opening it up further, he peered in. The roses were wilted in their vase, blue a deathly grey, and golden-yellow a hideous puke-like green. Mold covered the sides of the vase, making it look choked. 

         "Alaska?" he called, receiving nothing but silence.

     The floor creaked beneath his booted feet, and he shivered from how cold the house was. There was no difference between inside and outside temperatures. Panic began to set in as Canada looked to the messy kitchen, seeing bloodied knives dried and still waiting cleaned, plates shattered on the floor, and a trail of crimson droplets leading to the living room, and behind the wardrobe. The behemoth had obviously been moved, a surprising feat in itself with the heavy wood, especially since it had also been moved back. Canada managed to at least move it some as the feet squealed their disliking of being pushed along. When it would budge no more, he tried to peer behind it, only to hear a pin drop. Picking up the red colored object, Canada's eyes widened, soon tearing down the paper hidden behind the wardrobe.

     Down came millions of tacks, some red, others white, a few were green. Each having a sticker attached, each sticker with a name. The one he held read "Poland". The paper finished it's fluttering, the map of the world torn after several tacks stayed in their place on the wall. Backing from his horrid discovery, Canada called for Alaska again, hearing a soft whimpering, barely heard over his beating heart, from the hallway. Tack still in hand, the frantic Country barely missed the bear trap as he slammed into the wall, seeing one of two rooms with it's light on. Expecting the worst, he slowly opened the door, peering in with panicked breaths sending puffs of fogged air out before him. Canada froze at what he saw.

         "A-Alaska?"

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Fun fact:

     During Russian Empire's rule, Alaska Natives were used as test subjects. One known test was how many people a bullet could go through before stopping. The known maximum was 8 people before the bullet halted.

I always seem to find more serene pictures of Russian Empire, aside from a few, like the one above, when in truth, he was a monster that wrote the basis for USSR's rule. Just something I find hilarious.

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