◇ The Thief ◇ 2p! Hetalia x Reader

• Chapt. 2 •

- Murderous -

It was Tuesday and you had to work three 'till eight. It was a little chilly out, but you had a black hoodie with you. You grew up to know that if you dress up too nicely at a time like this where no one is around and you're at a creepy street like this, you're bound to be kidnapped by a lunatic.

The street lights flickered over the quiet and dark streets. The only things that broke the eerie silence was chirps from crickets and occasional strays roaming around for food or shelter. Some shady people passed by time to time, minding their own business. The moon was full and shone down what light it could provide. A small breeze blew through your (h/c) locks. Your fingers fumbled around with a switchblade in your sweater pocket, keeping you occupied. Self-defense was always one of your top priorities; you figured out the hard way.

You concentrated on your footsteps, listening to the tapping. You count in rythm with every step you took, like a rehearsal.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

One.

Two...

You slow down to a halt when you started to hear pleading nearby. "Please, I beg of you. I'll give you the money! Just give me more time!"a man's voice begged. It was coming from an alleyway. A twinge of curiosity nipped at you. You wanted to know what's going on. You lowered your body and slowly crept to the alley, keeping on the balls of your feet.

"Shut the hell up! You are on the deadline. And you stole something of mine, you sneaky bastardo." Another man, sounding what seemed Italian, snapped at the other individual. You heard a familiar clicking sound, making your (e/c) hues widen. You slowly peeked your head around the corner. There they were, discussing things that could be secretive.

A man standing over another guy with his back to you, pointing a 45 colt at the other guy. He had auburn hair with an unusual curl sticking out of the side of his head, defying gravity, and a tanned skin tone. His outfit was a WW2 Italian Brigade Uniform, with shiny patent-leather boots. And the guy below him, you couldn't really see. What you could see is that he was on his knees, begging for his life and making excuses. The Italian guy seemed like a big deal.

"What is he? A mafia boss or something? Must be a big shot."you questioned in your mind. "My stupido henchmen couldn't track you down, so I tracked your ass myself. And now you're going to die."the Italian growled. He pressed the gun on his forehead. You tensed up. You were about to witness a murder! A big one at that. "No! No! No-"

Bang!

The man fired. Blood splattered all over the concrete. The now dead man fell over on his back, a pool of blood forming around him. Your breath hitched at the sight. The man in front of you paused, raising his head. "Shit,"you whispered, pulling back and pressed your back against the brick wall.

"Who the hell is there!?" You heard the man shout. You pressed your lips together, keeping them shut. There was a sound of clicking boots heading your way, making you tensed. The sound was coming closer and closer. Your heart started to pound in your chest. You had to act fast.

You felt the switchblade in your pocket, but he had a gun. Dying early wasn't an option. There was only one thing you could do. And that was to run for your life.

You breathe in through your nose, collecting composure. Then you darted away from the alleyway and bolted down the street. You heard a shout from behind. A shot was fired near your foot, making you jump. You pushed on and kept running. Two words kept running through your mind, "Stay alive."

Your breathing became short and quick. You could hear the thudding of boots right on your tail. "Get the hell back here!"the man shouted. As you rounded the corner, you felt a pang run across your left shoulder. Your (s/c) hand gripped your shoulder. You stumbled on your feet and balanced yourself upright and kept going. The Italian mafia boss started to lag behind.

You ended up in an alleyway. A groan escaped your lips. You hear him getting closer. You panicked and frantically looked around for a way out. There was none, but a dumpster was there. You had no time to think, but, run up there and jumped in. You shut the lid and pulled your knees to your chest. You held your breath.

Footsteps were heard from outside of the dumpster. Swears in Italian were thrown. The dumpster received a hard kick, making a loud clang. You flinched, but kept silent. You wanted to leave this dump, but you didn't want to die. The smell reeked and gave you a headache. Though, you've been worse. You heard an annoyed growl and feet walking away.

Just in case, you waited for a few minutes before getting out. You carelessly shoved the door above you and jumped on your feet. You took a deep breath, your chest heaving. It was a relief to get out. Your legs aced from sitting uncomfortably in a tight space for so long. You brushed an old banana peel from your shoulder. The revolting smell of trash hit your nose, making you scowl. You needed to shower once you get home. You grabbed onto the edge of the dumpster and hopped over and out of it.
-----

You let out a heavy sigh as you sat down on the couch. A towel was around your shoulders to keep from your wet hair from soaking your clothes. You grabbed the towel and dried off your hair. After a minute, you paused, towel still over your head. Your arm drops to your knee. You blankly stare at the floor beneath you.

You've just witnessed a big murder, and received classified info. You remember the guy got killed mentioned something worth much hidden at a warehouse. You were torn between the options of you going to get it or not. Would it be worth the risk? "Who was that guy though..?"you mumbled. There was one thing you knew. You were a witness of a crime, and bloodthirsty criminals like that man from earlier would do anything to make sure people like you are silent.

Even if it means killing you...

○ End of Chapter ●