The Island Girl- Hetalia {Unfinished}

Chapter 26

POV- Ontario

Let's just say, we had a few problems on our hands.

One; Our country has been captured by our evil selves and we have no clue as to where he is.

Second; Our evil selves. Self explanitory.

Third; Random blackouts.

When I say random, I mean REALLY random. Out of frickin' nowhere. It happened to Quebec first, and now he's in that 'groggy-just-woke-up-I'll-tear-your-eyeballs-out-if-you-talk-to-me' state. Anyways, after that, it happened in a little pattern. The entirety of the maritimes provinces were affected, and PEI still hasn't woken up.

And no, we do NOT forget about her. M-most of the time...

We set her down on the couch, then went to the dining room for a meeting, which leads us to our current situation...a scream-off between British Columbia and myself, which totally ISN'T my fault.

"We have to go save him or them or however many people are there, and NOW! We can't just wait!" I yelled across the table, standing up quick enough so that my chair fell behind me.

"Why?! We have no clue where to look, or how WE would even be strong enough to defeat them!" ...Okay, I'll admit it, she was the rational one. But, that still didn't mean that I was wrong. Ever since we found the house was empty, and got that phone call from America, I'd been having this awful headache, but that didn't mean I had to be quiet or rest for one second. It meant that our country was hurt somewhere, and we needed to save him.

"Yeah, but-"

RINGRINGRING

"JESUS!" I yelled, jumping in surprise. I then answered the ringing phone. "Hello~?"

"Hey, Tari? It's me, we heard about what's going on." My eyes lit up at the familiar voice.

"DC, thank god." I sighed in relief at the news. We weren't alone on this.

***

After a lengthy conversation, I hung up. Michael (DC) was trying to round up all the states, in an attempt to make a rescue party. The government was also informed, but there wasn't that much they could do about it. This was a fight for the nations.

"Okay, well NOW we have a plan...ish...

"Here's how it'll all go down; we and the states all join forces to totally wreck those 2p guys. We split into teams- four teams, East, West, North, and South- I guess North and South are also kind of just central states...moving on, we'll find their quite obvious base- seriously, I still don't know why they didn't do something more secretive, it's almost like they wanted us to-"

"Olivia."

I stopped and looked over at the one who spoke, New Brunswick. Her hazel-green eyes stayed locked on me, a sad sort of shine in them, while everyone else looked at her. I tried to keep my expression oblivious, but I knew what she was going to say.

"Stop acting like someone you're not."

 The room went quiet.

POV- Venice

So...I was in a dark closet.

In a random bedroom.

After I ran up the stairs, I saw two figures. They looked like Ontario and Quebec, but...I knew better. They had different hair and eye colours, and after they were done talking they practically threw themselves at eachother, 

I could hear the crazed Russian still following me up the stairs, so I ran into the closet of the nearest bedroom. It was dark, musky closet, smelling slightly of vodka. It was pitch black, and I couldn't see any of my surroundings, but I could feel the fabric of handing clothes draped around me. 

 "Little Venice~!"

 'Merda (shit)!' 

 I shoved myself backwards, squeezing into the clothes so they covered my body. 'It'll have to do...'

 I could hear his footsteps. One...

"I know you're somewhere on this floor~!"

 Two...

 He was getting closer to the room. I could hear his metal pipe scrape against the wall of the hallway, and I cringed a bit. The sound was unnerving, and he took a few more steps. 

 Five...

 The doorknob turned. 

 "Are you in here, Итальянский милашка (Italian cutie)~?" 

 My breath got shallow, as I tried to stay quiet. I could hear every move he made; the rustling of fabric from his black coat, with bloody stains on the front, were all too loud, now that he had entered the room. 

 "Are you under the bed?" He paused to check. "Nope~" 

 I heard his footsteps get closer.

 And closer.

 Then his pipe dragged along the closet's door. 

 "Are you in here, прелесть (precious)?" 

 He opened the door. I held my breath.

 I counted the seconds the door was open, unable to see through the thick fabric covering me. After seventy-five seconds, and a lot of movement and shifting of the clothes...

 "Hmm, not here..." He started walking away, and I let out a small sigh of relief. I heard his steps pause, and covered my mouth with one hand. 

 "Was it just the wind? Better close this window." Without being able to see him, I could've honestly mistaken him for the real Russia.

 Once I couldn't hear him anymore, I crawled out from the closet. The room's door was left slightly open, so I snuck into the hallway without having to move it and risk my cover being blown. Who knows how long it's been since these doors were oiled!

 'At least I got away...but I'm still looking for the keys to the others' handcuffs, and he probably has them...'

  I continued to look through the house (or mansion, this place was huge!), until I realized something.

 "It's quiet," I mumbled to myself, while going back down the stairs. Aside for a few occupied rooms, it was like there were only a few 2ps here. "Almost...too quiet..."

 Immediately, once I reached the bottom of the staircase, I could hear giggles. Not cute, girly giggles. Creepy man-giggles. 

 I peered into the kitchen, where I saw a blonde man whisking away at a bowl full of batter. A cupcake tray was set on the counter, and beside it...

 'A bottle of poison. This guy is adding rat poison to either muffins, or cupcakes...'

 I hadn't realized the man had turned around until it was too late.