•Why Does It Have To Be You• (Country Humans)

Part 1. The beginning

                         Britain POV

It was a late afternoon. The sky was setting as Great Britain sat on his desk. He was deep in thought looking through every file of the case eagerly trying to find at least one consistency to the story. Anything that would help him at least get one step closer to solving the case.

"Bloody hell. Nothing again. I've been looking through these files days and night yet nothing. And what's up with the different footprints each time... Why only one of them?!"

Great Britain yelled in frustration. He placed his hands on his desk and balanced his head on top of his hands looking down at his messy desk. He couldn't focus at all on all this raucous (mess).

He got up from his desk and walked over to the kitchen. He helped himself to a cup of tea and went outside to his porch, sitting down on his rocking chair enjoying the light weather. There was a cold breeze in the air which was a bit comforting for Great Britain. He closed his eyes and mumbled to himself.

"Maybe a bit of peace after days of work may help my mind to set. What time even is it?"

He looked at his wrist watch eagerly checking the time. 8:34 pm. Just great, Britain thought as he looked up at the sky. He'd been on this case for over hours already yet no progress.

"Were the others actually right...? Could these murders not be related to one another and there are more people involved? It can't be... My gut feeling simply cannot accept this. There has to be something. A slip up, a lost glove, something"

Great Britain pondered. He brought his tea cup to his mouth and drank it slowly. He looked up at the sky wondering if this really had any consistency. He sighed to himself and shook his head. He can't quit. Not after being so focused on this case for so long. He promised to himself he'd find the murderer no matter how hard it seemed to be. He got up and stretched before heading inside, it had been a long day already and he didn't want to deal with anyone at this point of time. He walked inside, put his cup in the sink saying he'd wash it later and going straight to bed.

                          France's POV

Another night, alone. Once again cleaning the blood off of my hands and putting another footprint down on the victims house for detectives to fondle over and be even more confused. At this point people suspect this is made from multiple people or even a gang. Just what I wanted, no one had suspected me. I can't let them know I was the killer. Oh no no no, Moi? (Me) A killer? Never. I only did it to ensure my place would be on top. I couldn't let people think I'm a vicious killer who kills for the fun of it. I do have to admit the thrill of it gives me chills yet I can't let it consume me.

France dried his hands off and hid the body poorly under the bed. Exactly like all the other times. He didn't want the police searching for hours on end. He wanted them to find it. To look around and have no clue who did it. He couldn't help but feel excited for tomorrow's news when they found out yet another person died.

"Oh Comme c'est excitant ! (How exciting). I cannot wait for tomorrow. Oh, and do not forget. Give Britain some croissants so he doesn't think it could have been me who did it. What? Do you really think living beside a detective and being a killer at the same time is easy? Please, spare me. I only am trying to get on his good side so he doesn't get suspicious. Plus, if I killed him people would immediately think it could have been me. Can't let that happen, now can I?"

France smirked before walking off. He knew people wouldn't think it was him. Why would they after all? France, the person who draws and baked croissants all night has no time for such things. Exactly what France wanted them to think. Exactly how he wanted it to go...