The Slender Man (a Hetalia fanfiction - Book 2)

Chapter 6 - The First Note

Rosalie's P.O.V

I immediately recognized who it is that's laying on that old bed. How did he get in here?
"England!" I called, running over to the bed. I pulled the dusty blanket off him, but he didn't wake up. His face is ashen, and he didn't even flinch as I patted on his cheek.
"England, c'mon, get up, please." I pleaded as I tried shaking his shoulder, but I got no response.
"Um," I hummed, trying to think of a way to wake him up. Hit him with a pillow? Push him off the bed?
Then I climbed up onto the dusty bed, setting my hands onto his back, and then began pushing.
It took a few moments of scrunching up my face in attempt to push him off, but finally, he fell over the edge and landed with a loud thud on the wooden floor.
As I had hoped, his eyes snapped open and he abruptly sat up, looking around. Once his gaze landed on me, he glared.
"Bloody hell, Rosalie!" He exclaimed, standing up. "What gave you the right idea to do something like that to someone who's sleeping!?"
"Well, I had to wake you up somehow." I stood also and brushed the dust off my clothes. That bed is really unclean.
England then looked around, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. "Wait, where are we? This isn't the hotel!"
"Ya think?" I said, raising my eyebrows at him. "I woke up outside on the ground not far from here. How did we get here?"
"How would I know?" He said, looking a bit panicked as he asked again. "Where are we?"
"In an old cabin in the middle of the woods. I don't know where the hotel is, and we might wanna hurry, 'cause it's getting dark outside." I said, pointing towards the window where we can see the sun almost setting in the distance.
England brushed his hand through his hair. "Alright, well, let's just find a way back, then."
"How?"
"Does anyone live here?"
"No, we're the only ones in here. I was hoping that I'd find a phone or something, but there's nothin' useful."
But then my eyes caught on something that lay on the floor next to the fallen blanket. It's an old key, it hardly had a shine to it.
So then I bent down to pick it up, and held the cold key in the palm on my hand.
"Is that a key?" England asked and I nodded.
"Yep. It must be for that locked door downstairs, 'cause that's the only lock in this place." I muttered. "Let's check it out. It might have a phone or something we can use."
England walked over to the door. "That's a good idea."
And so we walked out into the hall and I did my best to keep my eyes averted from the door to the child's bedroom. We headed down the stairs and I turned towards the hallway, England continuing to follow as he looked around at his surroundings.
"No one's been here for a long time," England said as he saw the furniture covered in the old, yellowed sheets.
"Isn't that obvious by now?"
"I was just making an observation," he grumbled, and I smirked.
"I was teasing you."
"Yeah, yeah."
We were just about to pass the kitchen when that horrible smell wafted around us and we both gagged.
"Wha-what's that horrid smell!?" England gasped, covering his nose and mouth,
"It's from rotting maggot home I happened to find in the fridge," I told him as we continued down the hall to the locked door that I found not long ago.
I put the key in the keyhole and it fit perfectly, and when I turned it, it made a little click. I turned the knob, and then we were suddenly surrounded by a new but still fetid smell that wasn't too different from the odor in the kitchen.
The sight we saw once we stepped in was more horrible than the smell.
I gasped and almost screamed, but I pressed my hand to my mouth to silence myself. England stood completely still, paling.
The room is mainly empty, but on the wall, right across from us, is a small child. A little girl.
She's dead, trapped to the wall by barbed wire tied around her thin, decomposing wrists. Her dark hair is long and stringy, falling around her small, wizened body. Her clothes are stained with old blood, and so is the floor and wall beneath her. The blood is dry and so is the corpse, from the dry air. It must've been here for quite a while. Flies zip around the room, and her eye sockets are filled with maggots as more of those flesh-eating worms work their way in and out of her body.
The front of her shirt is ripped open to reveal a symbol, carved into her skin.
The circle with an X through it.
We stood in shock, staring at the horrible sight in silence as we breathed the aroma of death and rot.
My stomach churned with nausea and my head spun wildly, unable to react, but then I noticed the little window next to the corpse.
And outside that window is a tall, faceless man, staring at us.
Out of instinct, I grabbed England's arm and quickly turned and pulled him from the room, then dashed down the hall, past the kitchen and into the living room, then straight towards the front door.
Tears formed in my eyes when I noticed the symbol that is now carved into the door. That same symbol. That wasn't there before.
I didn't think as I slammed the front door open, and at that moment, I saw someone standing right in front of the doorway.
I screamed and stumbled back. I heard a familiar shriek and even England jumped in surprise.
I blinked and realized who the person standing on the porch is. I choked on a sob and tears fell from my eyes as I ran to my shocked brother.
"America! Oh my God," I cried into his shoulder, my whole body shaking violently, but man am I relieved to see him.
"You scared the bloody shit out of us, you wanker!" I heard England scold, but I can hear the slight tremble in his voice.
"Dudes, you two are pale as hell! What happened?" America asked, now patting my back gently as I did my best to stop crying and shaking.
England swallowed hard. "We...found a body of a young girl in there."
"What?" America is aghast. "Like, a dead body?"
I couldn't get the memory of that awful odor and that corpse from my mind, and something sickly rose from my stomach.
I quickly stepped around America, ran off the porch and I fell onto my knees, puking my guts out.
I pulled my hair back and as a hand gently rubbed my back, and my brother's voice trying to soothe me, but it didn't work very well.
I coughed and heaved, and once I was done, I wiped my face as I hiccuped. Then I stood with shaky knees, as America held my arm to help me balanced, and then he let go once he was sure I'm stable.
My head is throbbing and I can't think straight. That image of the girl, those symbols, those papers, it all just flew through my mind as that same melody played in my ears.
"What is going on?" I whispered to myself.
"Did you guys really find a dead girl in there?" I heard America ask softly. I nodded.
"Y-Yeah," I wrapped my arms around myself and I blinked hard several times, trying to set my head straight. I have goosebumps, and I feel horrified and nauseated.
"When we get back to the hotel, we can call the police and get them to the body." England scratched the back of his head
I looked at America. "America, do you have your phone on you?"
He reached into the pockets of his jeans, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Shit, I don't. I might've dropped it somewhere."
"Do you know how you got here?" England asked.
America shook his head and sighed. "No. Actually, I woke up not far from here. Did you guys wake up in the middle of the woods, too?"
"I woke up next to the cabin, and I found England inside." I explained, looking around us, but then I saw something that looks like a white dot in the corner of my eye.
Panicked, I looked in that direction, but instead of seeing the talk figure as I expected, I saw what looks like a sheet of paper attached to a tree.
That wasn't there before, either.
"Hey, what's that?" I asked, pointing in the direction of the paper, and they looked.
"I don't know, but I sure hope as hell it's a guide or somethin'," America grumbled as he began walking over to the paper. England and I hesitantly followed and I continued to look around us for anything out of the ordinary.
But then I noticed, once we got closer to the paper, that I can see what's written on it.
It's not a guide. No, not at all. Instead, there is one word written in a child's scribble that sent shivers up my spine.
RUN
"That's...weird," America mumbled, reaching out to grab to paper.
Suddenly, dread rushed through me, and I somehow knew that he should not touch that paper. I reached out to stop him. "America, wait-"
But he grabbed it and pulled it off the tree anyway. Right when he did, the air became heavier and it a breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves and blowing through our hair. The eerie feeling of being watched blew over us like the wind, becoming stronger.
After a second of taking in the foreboding atmosphere, England clenched his fists and turned to the American. "America, what the hell did you do now!?"
"I-I don't know! All I did was pick up the note!" America defended frantically, his eyes widening and his face growing pale, the paper wrinkling in his grasp.
Suddenly, we were surrounded by disembodied whispers of what sound like children.
"Run."
"Go!"
"Hurry, before he gets you!"
"RUN!"
I gulped, my body shaking and that same feeling crept up my spine. He's behind us.
"Do...you guys hear whispers?" America asked, his voice shaky and his face even paler as he looked around.
England nodded warily. "Y-Yes."
"We need to run." I said, my voice trembling. "Now."
"Wha-"
"Just run!" I cut America off as I grabbed both his and England's wrists, then pulled them with me as we began to run without looking back.