Why Sealand Can't Plan a Prank (And Why You Shouldn't Let Belarus Help Him)

Part 7

For some indiscernible reason, there was muffled music echoing through the next hallway.

Party girls don't get hurt

Can't feel anything, when will I learn,

I push it down, push it down

"Does anybody know what that blasted noise is?" Britain asked rather waspishly.

I'm the one for a "good time call"

Phone's blowing up, they're ringing my doorbell

I feel the love, feel the love

"Amerika likes— or, liked this song... I don't remember what it is called, though. His taste in music was rather strange," Russia admitted, staring at his shoes when he accidentally referred to America as though he were still alive.

"Aha," Britain said with an awkward grimace.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

"You danced to this song on top of a bar once, while you were drunk," Canada informed the Brit. He was walking near the back of the group alongside Romano and Germany.

Britain shot the Canadian a nasty glower. He couldn't recall ever doing anything of the sort. Nobody else could recognize the song but its presence in the hallway disturbed them all. This time, there was a door located on the left side of the hallway and another to the right.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

"Where do we go? Belarus didn't mention this..." Lithuania stressed.

"There are a lot of us, we can check both doors in turn," Switzerland deduced, sounding rather bored.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

Every country could agree to that plan, so they split up by way of voting into two groups, a team comprised of Switzerland, Russia, Hong Kong, Romano, and Norway, and another including Germany, Lithuania, Britain, and Canada.

The second group trekked into the room on the left, jolting in surprise when the music invading their ears grew deafening as soon as they entered.

Throw 'em back till I lose count

As the chorus blared from two speakers in the corner, the nations suddenly felt nauseous and were overcome with the urge to run, to get to any place where they would never have to think about this sick excuse for irony again.

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

Poland's pale, gaunt body hung from a bloody noose. His eyes were rolled up into the back of his head, his jaw slack. He had clearly tried to escape the noose's hold; his fingertips were scratched and raw. The nations could only hope that his death had been swift.

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist, like it doesn't exist

Lithuania had no words for what he saw. He was mutinous, furious, livid, but above all else, heartbroken. He had lost Poland so many times, they had abandoned each other and grieved for one another again and again, but they had finally fixed their relationship, picked up the pieces of what they had and made something beautiful out of it. It was as though the two had been building themselves a grand house of cards to take shelter in, and a savage, persistent gust of wind was repeatedly knocking it over.

"I need to get out of here," Lithuania announced before turning on his heel and doing just that.

The rest of the nations nodded in understanding and followed, internally relieved to be free from the sight of yet another corpse. After leaving, the group found a very lost-looking Greece standing outside, glancing between the two doors. By that point, everyone there was in agreement that they weren't going back into the space that held Poland's body, so they ended up trailing after the other group.