Sing out her heart, that's what she did to tell him. She tried to convey every word of pain and heartache she felt to him. She sent him letters. He never answered. To her surprise, new love hears her true words of loneliness. Little does she know: her new love has some seriously bloody baggage with him called the "The Mafia."

"I'm not the one," the smaller man gasped through the blood spilling through the blood from his mouth. His head rose defiantly at the stone face above him. The broadswords never left its enclosure stuck between his heart and lungs. For then came that moment when he met those red eyes with his own Persian green ones. Red fringed light butter-blonde hair. He grunted, as his chest went into a spasm of pain, as he collapsed onto the ground. "I'm not the one," he tried to say as his green eyes darkened, "to hurt you..."

This shall have drabbles with 'dark' characters of Hetalia. Horror, suspense, mutilation things, OOC-ness. Proceed with caution and I hope you like it~

Lou's life is hell. So are her nightmares. It's up to you to work out which is which.

She was given a haunted dollhouse for her sixth birthday. It's no surprise, she's hearing whispers...

I have always been a shadow compared to my twin. And you were light itself. No matter how much I wish for you to look at me with loving eyes, it was always my sister that you loved. But it was foolish of me to wish that you'll look my way. After all, shadows disappear in light.

Your eyes snap open. There is a hand, millimetres from your face, fingers outstretched, ready to grab and tear your skin away. You scream. You blink. It's gone. For 26 years of your life you experience this horrific nightmare. Who, or what, os the hand and what is its terrible purpose?