Hetaoni: ENDGAME

Chapter 33 ~ wHoS bEhInD mE?

   Italy couldn't have been any more nervous. Tears were stinging his eyes as he slammed the basement door shut. Slumping down, he put a hand to his heart, feeling his heart beat as it ran amok in his chest, trying to break free. The stress was killing him, and he now almost thought that was true, and not just a metaphor. Italy closed his amber eyes shut, and took deep breaths. 

"I can't go back to the basement. I can't ask for help. I can't let Romano help me. And I can't let Ryuu kill me."

  Italy stood up slowly, and began his search of the house. 

"First, just look for the metal piece. I think I remember where it is.... And if you look one by one, maybe you'll remember.... I just have to stay calm and believe in yourself!" 

  He searched everywhere. The room where the mochi was, the kitchen, the second floor bedrooms, the dojo, even the pantry! But nothing. Nada. The small Italian spent at the very least, an hour walking around the halls and scrounging around for the metal object he was so set on finding. He finally ended up searching the library, whether from boredom or pure curiosity, he didn't know. Scanning the bookshelves and each book spine, he finally came upon something maybe even more important than the metal piece. Eyebrows creased in skepticism, he pulled the sheet of paper out from the two books it was so messily lodged into. The paper was browned and ripped from ages of wear and tear, but yet, still in good condition. His eyes widened. He remembered these poems! He had almost forgot about them. Stuffing the paper into his ripped jacket, he carried on with the search.

    After another 20 minutes of looking around the third floor library, he finally remembered where that metal piece was. With a sudden burst of hope and optimism, he darted out of library and ran down the stairs two at a time. Italy made a sharp turn to his left, not wasting a second. To his right, a plain looking wooden door sat. Could this be it? Could that key to possibly getting out be in there? He didn't know, and that was good enough reason to go in.

  Italy inhaled a sharp breath, slowly twisted the handle, letting the door open just a crack. With a loud BAM he pushed the door open, his eyes closed so he would not see his attacker.

 But of course, no on was there. Unless you count the paranoid Italy. Hey, better safe than sorry! 

  The Italian sighed, as if he had held his breath this entire time. And boy, did it feel like it. It felt like he was drowning in a sea of blood, dark red with the sorrows of all his friends, the guilt they carried for him, the grief they all felt when another person lost their life. It just wasn't fair. Was this charma? What had he done wrong? Was this God punishing them for their sins? Or was this just the wicked plan of the master of the mansion, a witch in modern times? Not even Italy could answer those questions, and he knew the most about the mansion compared to everyone else.

  "Enough paranoia." Italy whispered to himself as he walked towards the center of the room. The door shut behind him, and Italy jumped a little when it did. He looked around. Italy narrowed his eyes. He felt as though he was forgetting something...

"Was it here?" He spoke to himself, eyes narrowed as he continued scanning the room. "I've finally got everyone together. I'll definitely get them to escape.... Or else I'll be confined to a world where I'm all alone... Then again, even though I tried to be at least a little reliable, they couldn't trust me. If I went back.... They wouldn't get mad at me.... Would they? They'd say sorry, and they'd yell at me a lot, and scold me, and then.... and then..... They'd.... hug me.. and I'd hug them... and I'd also say I'm sorry.... All this time... Really all this time.... I-I..."

   Deep thinking interrupted, the door slammed open, the cracking of wood and rough splinters flying everywhere. 

And Italy couldn't believe the site his eyes were about to see.

Italy stayed silent. 

"G-G-Germany....?" Came sputtering out of his mouth.

"wRoNg."

An evil and eerie grin that would have put a cheshire cat to shame came to the woman's pink lips.