For those of you following In Cold Embraces, I'm currently spending the summer away from home so I can't work on it until September. I'm using another's computer to work on my latest plot bunny for my latest interest, Axis Powers Hetalia. For those who ever looked at my profile, note the warning.

Another AU Vampire fanfiction from me, maybe I should have followed my other plot bunny about an AU Detective fanfiction, but another APH fan-writer has already done something like that. Pity, I was thinking of Ivan being an imprisoned serial killer, Alfred the detective who locked him up, Gilbert the rich boy seeking danger and Matthew would be a lawyer…

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Yaoi, Out of Character, Original Characters, un-betaed, violence, vampires, angst and long descriptions

These nights, Transylvania was no longer the beautiful place it used to be. During the day the beautiful mountains continued to watch over the inhabitants, but at night the mountains became indifferent to their screams. The scenic landscapes, once considered one of Mother Nature's greatest gardens, were now places to be feared. The old castles and churches, once relics to be admired at a distance, were now patrolled and guarded by paranoid villagers.

Today, the villagers were on the move. Large cars crashed through the forest, sending animals and flocks of birds away. Normally there were roads that would have taken the people to their destination, but they were in a hurry now, and cutting through the forest was quicker. The drivers, most of which were well built men, were shouting and calling each other. Guns, knives, clubs and even pitchforks had been passed around. No man or woman was unarmed, they were all prepared. When the cars finally stopped, dogs were let off their leashes, and the canines took off barking. The people followed, yelling and screaming, weapons drawn, as they surrounded the lonely, supposedly-abandoned house.

Inside the crumbling old house was a fully equipped, updated lab. Notebooks, graphs, and other sheets of papers covered the floors and tables. Test tubes and other lab equipment took up the rest of the space. Hovering over one of the tables was a tall man with brown hair and a lab coat. He had just inserted his latest experiment into the original sample, and was peering through the microscope with the eagerness of a child. What he saw excited him, for with a laugh, he straightened up.

"I did it!" The man shouted, he turned around eagerly, shouting to empty air "I finally created it!"

The hissing and buzzing of his machinery was normal, but not the yelling and barking he now heard. The man paused, he had been so obsessed with his work he didn't notice the approaching sounds. Now they were all around him, dogs barking, people yelling – the sound of a mob, of his citizens driven by fear. Suddenly rocks were being flung into his windows, and he heard crashing at his door.

"Oh no…"

There had been no heavy security set at his door, he had been content with simply keeping the animals away, he had never thought of the need to defend against humans, let alone a mob. He glanced at his successful experiment and snatched it in his hands. Just in time the door was thrown open and people swarmed the house, holding their weapons and flashlights. It was only evening, but the sun was setting, that was why they were in such a hurry.

The man had nowhere to run, he turned around just to see his citizens crash into the lab, and he raised his hands as a gesture of peace. It did nothing to help. "Kill him! Kill him!"

"I mean no harm!" The man protested, but the mob did not listen and only rushed forward, their dogs at their heels. Panicked, the man pulled out a gun and fired warning shots, the dogs stopped and the mob temporarily paused. He raised his hands again, "Please, listen to me!"

"Do not soften!" A voice from the crowd yelled, "We have already made that mistake! Gyula is in liege with those monsters! We must kill him before he turns against us!"

"No!" The man, Gyula, tried. "I mean no harm! This lab, the experiments I have been conducting, are meant to help us! Look!" He held up the vial in his hands, "This is it! This will stop them in their tracks!"

"Don't believe him!" One of the mob yelled, "He's not even helping them anymore, he is one of them! Gyula, don't think we haven't noticed that you've been avoiding sunlight! If the monsters have turned you into one of them, we will kill you before you become a threat!"

The gunshots came quickly, but Gyula was prepared, and he threw himself behind a table. Papers and broken glassware flew everywhere, and the vial he held in his hands fell to the ground and shattered. Gyula hardly noticed, dunking behind table, shelves and machinery, he ran out of the room. In a split decision he threw himself out the window, crashing into the dark wilderness outside, and he ran. The dogs chased after him, snarling and biting at his heels. The people followed, and bullets whizzed by his ear, embedded themselves into trees, grazed and cut his skin.

He could barely see in front of him, just trees and dirt and leaves and maybe animals he had startled. Run, run, run, anything but don't get caught. He had seen what the people did to those they suspect was collaborating with the monsters. Gyula couldn't die, per say, but he could feel pain, and the people would only panic more if they saw him again after they killed him. He'll never be able to rest, he would be persecuted and hunted down for who knows how long. A crash proved they were gaining on him, and panting, running without direction, Gyula held his hands together.

God, help me please, and with those words, the sun set.

The night air suddenly shock with a loud explosion. It was so loud and the aftereffect so strong that the dogs howled and flattened their ears while the mob stumbled and covered their own. They turned to the source of the noise, what might have been another abandoned cabin but was now currently smoke. More importantly, the people saw three shapes soaring up from the smoke. They glided through the skies, almost graceful and rapidly approaching. It was a sight that had recently became familiar to the locals.


"They're here!"


The mob broke apart, everybody was scrambling back into their cars or finding places to hide. The dogs followed, howling and whimpering. Everyone was scrambling for cover, desperately trying to hide, to avoid becoming the victims of what should have been folklore but was now a reality. From becoming hunters, the locals had returned to becoming prey. They ran, they cried, they sought cover and tried to disappear.

And in the confusion, Gyula Kadar (1) disappeared.

The watching group was silent as Romania turned off the television and removed the tape. He turned to the other nations, face dark. "This was the last I saw of my brother, Transylvania. The tape was sent to me unmarked and without a return address, but I have concluded it must have been footage from the surveillance cameras set in my brother's lab. I don't know who sent it, or how, as the lab was all but destroyed."

"Do you know what experiment he has been conducting?" One of the audience members, England, asked. Romania shook his head.

"No, from the locals' gossip Gyula was conducting the experiment for the so-called vampires, but I refuse to believe it. I admit, the days up to his disappearance I lost contact with him because he isolated himself, but he would never side with the vampires. He told me before that his people were dying on an average of at least three people per week – obviously, one for each of the vampires. Gyula would never help such murderers, especially in recent times as those statistics have changed, for the worst."

"More people are being killed?"

"After my brother disappeared, the instability of the region was finally acknowledged, something I regretfully admit should have been done earlier." Romania closed his eyes, a tired and worn man.

Transylvania had approached him since the problem started, and Romania had ignored it, believing it to be another Dracula phase. The problem itself sounded ridiculous, vampires taking over, people turning to religious nutcases again to scare them away? Romania had thought it was a ploy his brother was making in a desperate bid at attention, and chose to ignore him. Gyula asked for help again and again, but as time passed the pleas decreased and eventually stopped altogether. By the time Romania began to pay attention, it was too late. "The Transylvanians are either fleeing or closing themselves in, they have become hateful of strangers and the unknown. I tried to help them; I recruited volunteers, transferred police forces, and even sent in the military. To eliminate the so-called vampire threat was a mission that failed completely, and the vampires retaliated. Good men and women were killed, others simply vanished, some are claimed to have become the zombies that now serve the vampires."

"A zombie army?" Voice keen with interest, Prussia leaned forward, eyes dancing in excitement. It was obvious to everyone that Gilbert did not buy into the zombie terminology, but the idea of having an army who would listen without question and not desert; perfect cannon fodder or red herring material. "What are they like?"

"Dangerous humanoid creatures dressed in black and gas-masked," Romania answered. "They carry axes and other bladed weapons, but brute strength is also their advantage. They're hardly seen, but the vampires have used them more then once to fight our reinforcements. They are partly why the region has turned even more unstable. I can't do anything, my people are frightened, and having the vampires attack me was the last straw."

Romania paced on the platform, he gazed into every audience member's eyes, trying his best to make an impression. "The three who attacked me were not, as I was first to inclined to believe, kids high on whatever they're taking these days. Yes, they are young, but they had all the signs: A fear of sunlight, inhumane strength, amazing speed, sharp teeth, and what's more, no reflection in the mirrors. I know, I saw it myself."

"Romania," A voice breathed into his ear, even as the older nation stared at his lone figure in the mirror he felt too many hands on him. He was exhausted, defeated, broken from the inside and still his victors were not satisfied. "Where is your precious Transylvania?"

"What do you want us to do?" A man with wavy blond hair asked. He had made inappropriate comments earlier when the topic of vampires had been brought up, but seeing the video and learning that Romania had nearly gone mad with the loss of his brother made France serious.

"I need help," Romania answered. "My people are frightened, they are dying, turning against each other, and tearing themselves apart. The fear of one region is spreading, I need to stop it before things turn serious."

The other European nations glanced at each other, they listened quietly as Romania finished his presentation, ending with another plea for the other nations to do something. When he left the room, the nations debated and argued over the issue, questioning the merits of sending aid. What was more, didn't the video mention that Transylvania had become like one of the vampires? Granted, it was probably not his fault as he was only reflecting his people, but it was a worrisome fact. What was more, the situation was still mostly in Romania, and as of yet posed no threat to the other nations.

Eventually, it was decided that the international European body not interfere with arms. Rather, agents will be sent into the country to observe the situation. Only if it was warranted would any official operation be called for.

England, France, and Prussia were the first volunteers to explore the region.

Days later the nations, disguised as civilians, were in Romania.

Transylvania might have been made famous thanks to the Dracula rage, and have since earned itself a reputation for horror, but nevertheless the country was beautiful. Yet the hospitality the Romanian people had given the nations vanished completely once the nations were in the troubled region. The people watched the strangers with wariness and distrust, parents pulled their children closer, men avoided their eyes, and the youth sneered at the foreigners.

England eventually suggested they travel inside a car with blackened windows. Romania had told them to meet him in a building at Transylvania, as he had been called back into the region early to deal with some problems. The nations didn't want too much fuss, or they were sure to draw attention, thus the guide Romania had provided for them did all the paperwork and within minutes they had their car. He drove silently while the nations at the back argued.

"Why are you here anyways, France?"

"Obviously, because Romania asked so prettily!"

"I knew it! You pervert! How dare you think of attacking Romania at this time…!"

Hack, "Leggo England!"

"In the end you're a shallow, miserable…!"

"Mon dieu, not my hair…!"

"If you two are going to start a war, allow me to help!"

Hack, "GET OFF ME YOU…!"


"You two idiots!"

The scuffle at the back of the car did not bother the driver, who only sighed. He had no idea who the people behind him were, but was under orders from the top that they be given VIP treatment and that they might help the troubled region. He can guess by their accents they were probably agents of some sort, but asked no questions. They seemed too busy fighting each other anyways, and calling each other by their country.

"Prussia, get your foot off…!"

"That's my folder, yours is over there!"

"Say England, you look so pretty with that flushed face…!"

"Be graced by my awesome presence for you shall fail without me…!"

"France, if your hands dare come an inch closer…!"

"An inch…?"

"That does it!" THACK!


"Ouch, oh no you didn't just push Prussia's awesome…!"

"We're here, sirs." The guide said, and the three at the back froze, locked in a frozen combat that threatened to make the guide laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Really, those three were grown men acting like children. England coughed as he slowly untangled himself from the others.

"Right, my apologies for my behaviour," the English man pushed open the door and stepped out. He paused, staring the medieval building appreciatively for a while, before turning back to their guide. "We're meeting here?"

The man laughed, "I know it looks more like a tourist attraction then anything, but yes, you are meeting here."

"Beautiful architecture and gardens, a fitting place for a meeting with moi," the Frenchman was the next to step out. He surveyed the area just as appreciatively as England did, not even the grey skies could taint the image in front of them. The mansion looked more like a castle, with high towers and long windows. Rich green grass covered the ground, while colourful flowers bordered the edges. "Is this place public, or Romania's private property?"

"It's private," the guide began walking forward, and the three nations followed him. "I believe this is the place you are to be staying at. It has been refurnished and managed by a capable staff, so all your needs should be met. If there is any problem I am sure they will be able to help you."

France leered, "I sure hope so."

"Anyhow, as you can see, the security…" the guide trailed off when they arrived to the front doors, and he frowned. "That's odd, there should be guards standing here…" As they approached, the guide blanched. Not only were the guards missing, but of the double doors one of them was opened slightly. France frowned, no doubt noting what the guide had, and stepped forward. Before the guide or anyone could stop him, France kicked open the doors. The visitors' eyes all widened as the guide gagged.

Mangled bodies covered the floors and stairways. They were everywhere, left on the floors and dumped over the furniture, slumping over the stairways and leaning against walls. Some of them held weapons in their hands, while others looked as if they had been trying to run. The corpses' eyes were wide open in fear, mouths opened in silent screams. Several faces were desecrated beyond recognition, other bodies had their limbs amputated. Judging by their clothing, they were servants or security guards, the 'capable staff' that should have been managing the place.

"No way…" the guide whispered in horror, staring at what once had been a magnificent room with red carpets and white pillars, "This is…impossible, we made sure to take precautions…!"

"Romania!" Francis suddenly snapped, "He's not here, we must find him!"

"T-t-this way!" The guide ran forward, closely followed by the nations, as they hopped over ripped limbs and dead bodies. For all the carnage, there was not much blood, the carpet and marble floors remained relatively dry.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked as the guide led them deeper into the mansion, running past more bodies along the way.

"There's an emergency underground room here, the survivors might have taken cover there!" The guide rushed forward, throwing two doors open before finally reaching a third. "Down here..!" He threw the door open and froze.

"Oh? Hey, we have company!"

Several tall, gas-masked figures in black turned to look at the guide. Two of them were holding Romania down, and an unmasked figure held the nation's hand on a table. This person was obviously the speaker, and he smiled at the newcomer even as his other hand held onto a knife, "Hello."

The guide looked at Romania, back at the stranger's smiling face, and recognized him. "It's you!" Before a second had passed, the man whipped out a gun and fired it. The stranger jumped out of the way, and a fanged mouth laughed as the guide rushed forward, firing. "Damn you! How many of us are you planning to kill before you are satisfied?!"

The vampire was spared answering when one of the gas-masked figures moved forward and smashed down with an axe. Luckily, the guide threw himself out of the way as the floor cracked under the weapon, and he was on his feet quickly, firing. It blew off the zombie's head, but the vampire simply moved his own when the bullets came, not a single strand of blond hair out of place. That only drove the mild-mannered guide madder.

"Stop laughing!" the guide screamed as he fired more bullets, but the vampire only parried them with his knife. "Damn it, stop laughing, America!"

"One should always be prepared when they enter a gunfight." The vampire laughed as he watched the guide run forward towards him. "After all, the worst thing that could happen to a gun user…" America stopped parrying as the guide pulled the trigger again, only to come up with a blank, "…is to run out of bullets."

The blunt end of another axe smashed against the guide's stomach, throwing him against the wall, and he crumpled to the ground. America held up his hand, stopping the gas-masked figure from killing the man, before stepping forward. To the vampire's surprise, the guide launched himself up again.


"Not under your hand," America chirped and the guide was flung back to the ground. There was a sharp crack, and the man screamed. Behind the vampire Romania started shouting, struggling against his captors, but America couldn't hear him. Still smiling, he stepped forward to the guide, who was now hissing in pain.


"This will only hurt a little," America's hand closed around the man's collar and lifted him up. Just as he bared his fangs, his eyes flashed and he jumped out of the way as a fresh row of bullets flew towards him.

"Step away from him, vampire!" Arthur shouted, his hands holding a gun he had stolen from one of the bodies outside. Behind him, Francis and Gilbert took a similar stance, although Gilbert was grinning while Francis looked serious. "And let go of Romania!"

America stood up, only to fall back at the number of bullets that fired at him. He snapped out a command, and the gas-masked figures moved forward. The bullets slowed down their progress, but they pushed forward and, armed with bladed weapons, attacked. Arthur, Francis, and Gilbert split as their opponents descended upon them.

"This is the zombie army we've been hearing about?!" Gilbert laughed as he blew off the head of one, "They're pretty awesome, but they'll be better with Prussia!"

At the other side of the room, Arthur managed to get his hands on a sword that had been on display. He was currently using it to fight the vampire after America threw his gun out the window. At such close quarters with the vampire, Arthur could see what Romania had been telling them about. The vampire in front of him looked younger then Arthur himself.

"You don't look like a local, are you here on a vacation?"

"No! I'm here to send you back where you belong!"

Without warning the two crashed through a window, and an unprepared Arthur scrambled to coordinate his fall. His hands flailed wildly, but managed to land on his feet. He straightened, prepared to fight, but saw nothing.


A loud hiss alerted him too late, and from above a heavy weight launched towards him. Arthur dove forward, feeling fingers racking over his back, snatching the sword, and he turned around.

The blurred shape of the vampire scrambled up the window ledge back to the roof, hanging upside down briefly before springing out and landing on his feet. America shook his head lightly, than glanced at the sword he stole from Arthur during their crash. With a smirk, those blue eyes met Arthur's again as the vampire carelessly tossed the weapon aside. Arthur thought the vampire would speak, but without warning said vampire pounced at him again.

Arthur let out a surprised shout as he was snatched up into the air, whether America planned to bite him or drop him, he didn't know because he pulled a knife from his pocket. A swipe upward, and the vampire dropped the Englishman. Arthur plummeted, falling onto a tree, before sliding down and getting himself smacked silly by branches. By the time he crashed onto the ground, his clothing was a mess and there were scratches on his hands.

That monster

He growled, only to look up at the sound of mocking laughter. America was perched at another tree, watching him with seemingly wicked eyes. Arthur scrambled to his feet as the vampire leapt off the tree and towards him. Arthur raised his knife, it was all he had at the moment, but just as it seems as if the vampire was in front of him, he vanished.

Arthur blinked, but suddenly there were howls behind him, and England turned to see several of the zombies inside the mansion scramble away from the window. Familiar warmth cloaked Arthur's back, and the nation turned to see the sun emerging from the clouds. The warm rays lighted the place in white, sharpening details and providing relief.

"It's the sun!" Romania was shouting, his voice seemingly distant inside the mansion. "They fear the sunlight! Kill them! It's the best time!" Judging from the sounds that followed his voice, Prussia and France was obviously listening. England could guess they were slaughtering the zombies, but where was the vampire? His eyes scanned the gardens, at the trees and their thick branches, could it provide enough shade for a vampire?

The sky was darkening again.

Dark clouds embraced the sun once more.

And suddenly, the vampire swung into sight, hanging upside-down off one of the tree branches. It did provide enough shade! England's eyes widened in horror as America gave him a jaunty wave, and then smiled a fanged smile.

"Hey, England!"

Prussia's voice cutting through the air was his only warning before something flew towards him. England caught it, it was the gun America had thrown out the window earlier. The Englishman didn't think twice before firing it at the vampire. America hissed, but was forced into flight as England continued pulling the trigger. The vampire flew this way and that, trying to avoid the bullets, but England knew it wasn't because of that did the vampire finally decide to retreat. Judging by the vampire's gazes at the sky, the vampire was more concerned with the sun coming out again.

Without another word, the vampire turned and took a long leap behind a tree, then another. To England's eyes America was no more then a blur moving quickly away, and while a part of him wanted to shoot, another knew with that speed and zig-zagging movement, he would likely miss.

He lowered his gun, once the vampire was out of sight Arthur turned and returned to the mansion. France's voice called out to him, "England! I think you need to take a look at this!"

The zombies they had slaughtered were, there was no other way of putting it, crumbling. As England climbed back in through the window, he saw the bodies falling apart before his very eyes. Though the zombies were masked and well covered, their body shape was fast dissolving into dust. Those large, muscular shapes lost their form, until all that remained were their masks and clothes.

It was one thing to hear about it in the meeting several days ago, and another to witness it with their own eyes. Romania, in his plea to the international community days ago, had talked about the zombies dissolving after they were 'killed'. The 'dust' left behind had been sampled and revealed to be disturbingly similar to what a human body would resemble after cremation. After all, there had been reports that those zombies were probably what happened to the missing soldiers Romania had sent into the area.

What's more, cremated bodies made it hard for scientists to study what the vampires might be and what weaknesses they have.

"Aru…is it all over?"

The visiting nations blinked at the voice, and turned around. At the corner of the room, what had resembled part of the floor earlier was now opened, revealing the underground room the guide had been talking about. With his hand on the handle was a young man with dark eyes and hair, staring at the visiting nations with confusion and worry.

"Yes, China," Romania was the only other nation who didn't look surprised. "You can come out now."

"What's he doing h…?" Prussia began, but Romania shook his head.

"Later, let's all settle down first. That vampire attacking in the middle of the day was completely unexpected and threw our schedule off, but not for long." Romania sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Come, and we'll try to answer each other's questions, but I get the feeling that we'll be joined by other unexpected countries soon."

In a distance, where ominous clouds gathered around the mountains, thunder began to rumble.

Lighting flashed and thunder roared, electricity forked the skies and the rumbling clouds. Winds howled and the trees could only bow down in the face of such wrath. Rain poured down on the earth below, as if challenging the waterfalls themselves. No human or animal dared step outside of their homes, no living thing dared to even gaze at the stormy landscapes.

Of course, this depended on one's interpretation of living thing.

By all appearances it was an abandoned church, fallen into disarray, with broken windows and crumbling bricks. The one-room building had not been used by humans for years, left buried in a forest in the mountains. Nature and animals had claimed it, old nests, droppings, and wild plants had taken over. The building held its share of non-human inhabitants, and even though it had recently been cleaned out, the exterior remained unfixed, the windows unfilled.

Crouching at what once had been stained windows above the double doors was a still, slender figure. Without the glass and with an inadequate roof top, the rain had managed to reach the figure, but while rain water dripped down the wavy blond hair, slid down the pale fingers, and trickled down soft cloth the boy remained relatively dry. Clear blue eyes watched the storm tearing through the forest, and when they finally landed on a shape that didn't resemble trees or uprooted plants, relief seemed to pour out of them.

The approaching shape waved at him, taking on a familiar form. Alfred gave his watching brother a jaunty wave – the same wave he had given those visitors Romania had over – and grinned, unbothered by the screaming wind and pouring rain. His voice was lost in the storm, but his lips could be read: Hello Matthew.

Matthew jumped down from the window, flying past the distance and landing in front of his brother, before promptly smacking him on the head. His yell was almost lost in the storm as well, but since they were standing next to each other the words managed to make themselves known. "I should kill you, Alfred, for pulling a trick like this! You nearly gave me a heart attack when I realized you went out during the day!"

"Oh come on, Matthew!" Alfred laughed, still giddy, "there was no sun out today! Look at the storm here and you know it can't be bright and sunny where our neighbour is! Besides, coming for him during the day would have caught him off guard!"

"But your plan didn't work, since you came back empty-handed!" Matthew shouted. He grabbed Alfred's arm, and for a moment America thought his brother was going to give in the urge to hit him hard, but Matthew was tugging him. "Let's get out of this storm, for all our strength we are not incapable of getting sick!"

The vampire twins hurried back into the church, heading straight to the confessional. Matthew pulled a latch, and the floor opened to reveal a set of stairs. The twins went into the underground room, closing the door after them.

"America, back from the dead?"


"Hello to you too, Canada."

The room was huge, probably larger then the church itself. When the vampires first found it, they had thought it was another hideout they could use, another resting place. However when it became apparent that the room was designed with home needs, it soon became their main resting place. Now updated and fully furnished, it gave the three vampires what their human side wanted: a home to return to.

Mexico, or Miguel (2), was the third vampire in the group. Among the locals, he was most easily recognized as vampire. Though he was just as young as the twins, his bronze skin made his white fangs stand out even more, an advantage he had used more then once to scare his victims. His dark eyes had a hypnotic look in them, and his dark hair all but helped enhance his looks. Currently, he was giving Alfred the look, one that resembled a mix of irritation and reluctant fondness. It was common between the two, and these days, increasingly so.

"Running out in the day, taking a good number of our zombies and risking your life, this better be good."

"I wasn't pointlessly risking my life," Alfred answered as he tossed aside his wet jacket. Matthew frowned and had to force himself not to pick it up. "I was going to drop by for another visit with Romania. In this weather, the sun shouldn't be coming out, so I went for it. Unfortunately, it seems like he's still not giving in, and what's more, he seems to have gotten some better bodyguards."

The other two vampires gave him questioning looks, and Alfred continued. "I had another scuffle with his bodyguards again, as usual. The zombies got rid of them while I located Romania, but that was when his reinforcements arrived. I was surprised, they weren't just more guards, they were obviously foreigners. I fought with them but then the sun came out…"


"…and I retreated."

"You were out when the sun was?!"

"You two sound hysterical, but before you attack me, listen to what I have to say." Alfred paused briefly before continuing, "There were only three foreigners, but what I've heard them call each other is more then enough: Prussia and England, and they addressed our target as Romania."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and the question America was expecting came. "Who was the third person?"

"It's not Spain," Alfred answered Miguel, before turning to his brother; "It's France."

Surprisingly, Matthew remained calm, only closing his eyes in response to the news. "Romania's moving again, and moving fast. We can kill his police officers and soldiers, but we can't kill personifications of countries. Especially not…" he broke off, and cursed. "We still haven't found our missing comrade, and we already have other nations getting involved? We're not that big of a threat, we haven't gone further then Transylvania's borders, let alone Romania's. Why…?"

"European nations have a history of fighting and making peace before fighting again," Alfred shrugged. "I'm surprised those of the west are coming first, I would have thought Eastern Europe will move before they do. Something's not quite right, did Romania specifically sought out the west? Or are they simply curious? In any case, we should catch Romania again; even if he doesn't tell us where his brother is his capture may bring Transylvania out of hiding."

"It didn't last time."

"That's because we didn't publicize the kidnap enough, next time we should do it in front of a crowd or something. In front of our visiting friends, perhaps, and this time people will notice when Romania disappears. Right now, he's telling people he was attacked, but no one knows he was actually kidnapped. He's probably mad at himself, he wouldn't have escaped had we not open the door to test his reaction."

There was a slight pause, the three nations remembered what they had tried with a captive Romania. The poor nation's mind was toyed with so many times he had almost given up fighting. That was when Alfred decided to experiment, to see whether the nation was really broken, and he had left the cell door open. To his surprise, Romania did try to escape. America would have liked to snatch him back, but Canada told him to let him go. Canada's own experiment went as predicted, Romania managed to escape, but he kept looking over his shoulder, not in fear – but almost wistfully.

The nation had been conflicted about what to do with them. Judging by the presence of foreign aid however, Romania had chosen his people. Alfred's lips curled.

"Although we've had our share of sneaking up on our prey and attacking swiftly, we've also tried the tactics of folklore. We draw in our victims, teasing and seducing, and no one could resist us. They all walked to their deaths, not a single one resisted until it was too late. Romania is no exception."

"He tried," Miguel smiled lazily, "We all saw him try."

"And the more he tried…" Matthew began.

"The more we wanted him," Alfred finished. "Our missing comrade is the only other vampire out there, and by now surely Transylvania is bearing traits. I entertain thoughts about making Romania one of us, but since we have some other nations along for the ride, let's have a little fun with them first."

(1) Gyula is a title in Transylvania, but some have also used it as their name
Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla is known as the 'Father of the Nation' in Mexico, hence the name

A/N: I'm a Canadian with American relatives and a few Mexican friends, so when it comes to facts about those countries I'm fairly confident. When it comes to Europe however, my knowledge consists largely of what I remember from history class and Hetalia. Feel free to correct me, but once again, there is a reason this is an AU story. I'm in the process of working out the pairings (So far its America/England, Thailand/Vietnam, Prussia/Canada, Russia/China, Germany/Italy, and Spain/Italy), but if the response to this story is bad I won't bother.

If the response to this fic is good, I'm seeking a beta for the summer. Anyone interested?