Written In Blood | Countryhumans AU

Something Is Terribly Wrong

It's not that I hate him. No. He's actually quite nice, even to me. An enemy. Hell, one could say he's a friendly face. Nice to everyone, even if they hate his guts. But recently something has changed. He has been colder, and more distant. Even watching him spar with Canada, they way he swung at Canada was as if he was clawing him. What happened between him and Belgium. How fast the states got aggressive fast.

I may just be paranoid.

Everyone sat in the meeting room watching the race and whatever speech the President was giving. An excited crowd cheers. Something is off though. The Vice President is rocking on his heels. Fidgeting, and looking over to one side constantly.

BANG!

Every country in the room whipped their heads to the screen. President Elmer's body dropped onto the ground and the secret service ushered the Vice President to the backstage, cameras didn't pan away though. Watching the blood spread from where Elmer's head was, perfectly hidden behind the podium. The thing that got the cameras to turn away was the sound of a horse. USA ran up to the stage. A panicked expression as he jumps off his horse onto the stage. Pausing a second to look at the dead before slipping backstage.

More secret service men ran onto the stage and laid a black cloth over Elmer. The crowd was in a frenzy, trying to get out and away as quickly as possible. Guards and cops yelling over everything. Fluttering in from above the Washington DC personification drops onto the stage and watches the crew set up curtains. Before he also went backstage.
We just watched in shocked silence. The cameras kept recording for more or less a half hour. DC ran out and took off. A few moments later USA appeared, running to his horse. Flashes came from his phone screen. Speedily mounting his horse, and running off between buildings. A medicine ad starts playing.

Looking at everyone they looked absolutely shocked. The ladies covered their mouths. Canada bit his fist. Wide eyes. Flattened ears, puffed wings. Electricity was in the air. Waiting for someone to break the silence.

"Mr. USA has decided to call off the race, as we see here, he is talking to the leaders of Club Thirteen." An announcer says, scaring a lot of people in the room.

The overhead camera zooms in on the back of his head. USA is whispering into Manhattan's ear. Manhattan nodding along. When USA pulled away, they both made some sign to each other, before USA spread his wings and took off into the cloudy sky. Manhattan and Pennsylvania both had a weird expression on their faces before parting ways.

It was the same with the rest of the teams. Two specific states would be called aside, California and Nevada, Alaska and Maryland, Ohio and Idaho.

Soon after the channel switched to some generic one. NATO sat with the phone against his ear.

"So you can make it." We all looked to him.

"Okay, you're coming in tonight... Sounds good to me. Goodbye."

NATO and UN nodded to each other. WHO looked miffed once again.

I don't know though. Something is... Off. Definitely.

The café was quiet. I was standing there waiting. God this is so awkward.

The worker drops my box on the counter with a grunt and I quickly grab it and speed walking out the door. Heading to the deck, right to my usual seat. Looking over to the window, they were coated with a fresh layer of salt. A janitor comes from the back with scrapers. Quickly getting to work for the lone country.