Drowning (A Hetalia fanfic)

It wasn't clear anymore who was first to lose their mind or why, and frankly hardly anyone on the American continent cared. The whole land was truly free to do whatever they pleased. Smoke, drink, steal and even kill. There were no laws anymore and with the drop in population you could go weeks without seeing a single new person.

The borders were practically none existent at this point, only purpose they were serving was a marker for where on the land you were.

Alfred stuck with Matthew, not sure how they came to team up; a story he felt was long ended. Matthew was very soft for this world. He would keep their camp in order and cook the food Alfred brought without questioning where he had gotten it and if there was a bit of blood spilt onto the canned foods he'd wipe it off in the river.

They were rich, or at least that was how they felt. The people on the land called them the demons of the American continent and everyone hoped to not run into them. Alfred would take whatever food he could find and kill whoever he wanted without mercy. He would laugh while he did it too. Their laughter would feel the night as they both ate like kings.

They had motorbikes that they would ride throughout the land, carelessly. They saw no need to reach the outside world. They had everything they'd ever need right there.
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I do not own Hetalia or it's characters.