You looked into the blood red eyes of the insane man who wore Italy's face, trembling like a leaf as shivers of horror ran up and down your spine. As you slowly backed away, eventually hitting the wall, you thought back to the events that transpired before today, and you couldn't believe you didn't see this coming.
You rapped your knuckles against the door of your Italian friend's house, sniffling. Right now you needed to pour your heart out to someone and who better than sweet, comforting Italy?
The door flew open, revealing a handsome, grinning Italian. "Hola, Bella ___!" His smile quickly faded, though, when he noticed how red and puffy your eyes were. "What's wrong?"
That did it. "Oh, Italy!" You wailed, throwing yourself at the stunned Italian.
He caught you skillfully, surprise lighting up his face. He held you for a moment before finally saying something. "What's the matter?"
"He-He broke up with me." You were, of course, refering to your ex boyfriend; the fact that he broke up with you by text message only rubbed salt on the open wound.
You looked into his eyes which were, much to your surprise, open and very serious.
"I-I don't know what to think..........I really loved him, Italy."
For a second, you could have sworn you saw rage twist his features. It soon, however, turned into a look of reassurment and you decided it was just your imagination. "Don't worry!" He said, flashing you his trademark naive smile. "I'm sure you'll get over him soon! And hopefully move on to someone else........." You wondered if he was trying to imply something, but you smiled politly all the same.
"Thanks, Italy." You waved farewell and began to jog home.
Yet you couldn't shake off the bad feeling you had.
You collapsed on the couch, letting out a sigh of immense relief. Your boss was such a dick, making you work overtime on a broken heart. It felt so damn good to kick back and relax.
Grabbing the remote, you hit the red on button and the news flashed across the once blank screen. "........In other news, a man by the name of (boyfriend's name) was found dead." Your eyes wideneing in horror, you frantically turned the volume up. "He was found dead in the park, his throat and chest slashed open. He-." You quickly turned the T.V. off, fighting back tears.
You couldn't believe he was murdered, nor could you believe it was on the day after he broke up with you. Now, that was a little suspicious. Who the hell could have killed him? An image of Italy swam in your head and you shook it away violently, banning the image.
What were you thinking? This is Italy we were talking about here, sweet, innocent Italy. He couldn't even wound a person, let alone kill one!
You heard someone knoc on the door. With a sigh, you leapt off the couch and answered the door. Much to your surprise, it was Germany. He wasn't one for friendly visits, making you wonder why he came.
"Gutan tag." He said stiffly. "Can I come in?"
"Sure." You said, still surprised. He entered your house, sitting down on the couch. "We need to talk about Italy." Another surprise. "He's been acting strange all week, almost like his-!" The German cut off abrutly.
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. What the hell was going on?
"Here you go, Bella ____!" The Italian said happily, setting a plate of pasta down in front of you.
You offered him a polite smile. "Thanks, Italy." About 30 minutes ago, your friend called you up, inviting you to dinner. It would have been rude to refuse; plus, Italy did make some pretty good pasta. Twirling a forkfull of pasta onto your fork, you lifted it up and ate. You frowned slightly when the taste hit your tounge. The pasta tasted fine, but the sauce tasted rather strange, almost metallic.
"Hey Italy, what's in the sauce?" You asked, trying not to let your discomfort show.
"Oh, you know, the usual. Herbs, spices," He suddenly grinned. "Blood."
Your face paled. "Pardon?"
"Blood." He repeated, moving a little closer to you. "Did you hear about what happened to your boyfriend a few days ago?" Horror coursed through you as the chilling realization sank in. This man wasn't Italy, that you were certain of. The Italy you knew would never do something like this.
"Who are you?"
The Italian smirked. "You can call me 2p!Italy. That's what everyone calls me."
"Where's Italy?!" You screamed, standing up to grab the collar of his shirt. "Dead." Those simple words made your knees feel weak. His eyes suddenly flew open, revealing blood red orbs. "I couldn't let him get in the way." You looked into the blood red eyes of the insane man who wore Italy's face, trembling like a leaf as shivers of horror ran up and down your spine. You slowly backed away, thinking of the best way to escape.
Suddenly, 2p!Italy pounced on you, successfully pinning you to the ground. He used one hand to hold your hands above your head and the other to grab a knife out of his back pocket. He pressed it dangerously close to your neck, his insane smirk growing. "And where do you think your going?" You didn't reply, your throat paralized by fear.
"I might've killed that ex of yours, but you'll eventually date some other guy, won't you?" He asked, his face close to yours. "Don't answer that, I know you will. Quite the slut, aren't you?" 2P!Italy laughed bitterly. "Still, I'd hate for you to be with some other guy. I'd hate that a lot."
With no warning, he slammed his lips harshly against yours. Before you could register what was happening, you felt a blinding pain in your neck. 2p!Italy pulled away, laughing as he observed your bleeding, and quickly dieing, body. "I'd hate that. So your going to stay with me forever."
You coughed up some blood as you looked at the insane man through clouded eyes, your life quickly fading away. He laughed at your futile struggle to stay alive, repeating his dark promise.
"You'll stay with me forever."