Run (A Hetalia FanFiction)

Chapter 21- Fallen

It's been a while since I've updated, sorry for the wait! T__T

I will post a few more chapters and end this book, I am planning to make a sequel, as I suck at making really long stories. Again, there is a lot of Austria hate (not intentional!!!!) , as my OTP is PruHun- if you hate it then don't read. 

Austria: Damn you... *evil glare*

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Hungary’s POV

It stared back at me, making me feel uncomfortable and physically sick. What the hell was going on? The tiny diamond encrusted ring cushioned itself in my clammy palm, an evil aura encircling it.

“What the hell is this?” I yelled, my eardrums vibrating.

“Marry me Elizaveta.” Roderich pleaded, taking my hand in his. I immediately snatched it away and looked to Gilbert. He looked furious, his red eyes hungry with anger, and a frown permanently etched into his face. Brushing a hand through his hair, I saw him sigh inwardly.

“No.” I stated bluntly, popping the ring back into his hand.

Roderich looked taken aback. Wide eyed, he stumbled, his legs looked they were about to give way. Nervously, he laughed. I raised an eyebrow.

“T-this is just some sort of joke, isn’t it?” the Austrian shakily muttered, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

“No. I don’t want to marry you Austria.” I repeated, staring into space. I could almost hear Gilbert’s smile.

The raven haired man fell to his knees, clutching the ring between his fingers. A tear trickled down his cheek.

“W-Why?” he gasped, choking through tears.

“I don’t love you.” I pitied, staring at Gilbert, who was holding back laughter.

Roderich looked up at me. In a second, he grabbed Prussia by the collar and punched his arm.

“YOU!” he screamed. It was quite amusing, as Austria was shorter than Prussia, who just stood upright, unfazed.

Antonio and Francis grabbed a protesting Roderich by the arms and legs and carried him out of the room. I sighed in relief. Gilbert walked up to me, chuckling.

“They’re not coming back. Had to find their loved ones as all the countries got caught up in this mess.” Gil told me, as he sat down next to my bed.

“Care to explain why Austria attacked you?” I curiously asked the albino, as he tapped his fingers on the side of the coffee table.

He froze in place, just for a slight second, a dust of pink on his cheeks.

“Eh… No idea,” Gilbert answered coolly, shrugging his shoulders.

I just laughed. It was like that story he had told me. I really was glad he was there.

Italy’s POV

I feel different. As if I’m no longer in control of my body. This voice; similar to my own but creepier; echoes in my mind.

That is because, you and I, we are the same person.

Who are you anyway?

You remember me Feli

Luciano? It can’t be… You 2Ps were banished long ago

Thanks to you, I can awake my friends. We will rise, and you 1Ps will forever cease to exist.

Please don’t hurt Doitsu.

Don’t worry, I won’t hurt my Doitsu.

Wait-

Oh shut up you imbecile. Now I control this body, which means I control you. Die already.

 2P Italy (Luciano’s) POV

Now that I have control of this body, it’s time to awake my other friends. Lutz attacked the 1p Hungary and England but I haven’t heard from him since. I look at my reflection. Slowly my 1p’s ginger hair turns a dark mahogany, hazel eyes forming purple ones. My face tans and breaks into a grin. I am complete. That clumsy blue uniform that Feliciano usually wears, I do too. It looks ridiculous.

I race through the woods, nearly tripping over the twigs and logs that obstruct my path. After a mile or so, I stop running. Looking up, I see a huge oak tree that towers over me. It is near a road. Many splintering chunks of wood stick out from the coarse trunk. I snap them off them quickly, sharpening the edges against the stones that surround me. My finger touches the point, pricking with blood. Perfect. Shoving the wooden daggers into my pockets, I step into another run towards the mansion when my leg gets itched by a rough material. My hand fumbles into the pocket beside it to reveal a crumpled letter of some sort. One glance at it forms a large grin on my face. Good memories.

I take out the dagger and begin to carve into the tree. Splinters dug into my palm, blood squirting out of my skin, like scarlet droplets. Stepping back to admire the carved words, I laugh. I tear off the white cloth on my shirt and tie it to a stick. My blood soaks into the white cloth. I prop it next to the carving. Now they’ll know for sure.

 We are back.