Chapter 9: North Italy
I feel the gun in my hands go off, the recoil of the gun catching me by surprise, almost throwing the weapon from my hands. I cringe as I hear the person gasping out as the bullet when through them. I was shaking, scared and confused, just watching everything that happening. I couldn't figure out what was going on; everything was happening so fast. I just watch as the guy falls, his limp form sprawled across the floor. The darkening stain on the carpet below him let me know he was dead, the life flowing out of him. It made me sick to my stomach, it twisting and knotting at the thought of killing another living thing. I then start to notice the details that had had me frozen in shock and confusion in the first place, watching the guy fuss out Germany. The first thing I was drawn to was his auburn hair blowing as he fell, my auburn hair. The red locks were now still on the ground, blood staining the askew strands. Then his blue uniform stained red and torn, my uniform. The words he had spat out, he said them in my voice. Mine. The lies painted with my tongue were damaging, they hurt me badly. They sounded true, but they weren't. My hair, my clothes, my voice, me, I watched as I died. I watched as the life pooled out of me, I watched as I gasped out. My last breath. It was me. Germany looks sadly down at the fallen guy. No, not the guy, me. Germany looks mournfully down at me, on the ground, the pool of blood growing steadily. Germany starts to sob hysterically while I was still standing in fear, the gun trembling in my hands. I was so scared, confused, and horrified I couldn't unclench my hands from the pistol. Germany looks up at me and freezes, his sobs ceasing. His eyes grow wide, the pearls of water flowing down his cheeks, dropping onto the ground. He never cried. Never once had I even seen him tear up, not even when he was separated from Prussia. I had made him cry. The rare gems glistening on his face, matching his ice blue eyes. I don't like seeing Germany sad. I had made him sad, and regretted it. I was holding onto the gun in my hands for dear life, it still aimed at myself on the floor, shaking badly.
"Italy?" Germany breathes out, surprising me.
I yelp, dropping the gun and backing up in fear. Germany was probably mad at me for killing the guy, for killing me. I shrink back, shaking in terror, knowing he was going to attack me. After all, I had killed myself.
"Scusa! Scusa!" I yell out, shielding my face. "I didn't mean to, I don't know! I came home and Spain and Romano were dead!" I shrink back, trembling now, my arms wrapped around my head, backing more away. "Then I went to Austria's house but France shot at me! I ran here for help and saw Prussia hurt and then..." I break down, and start sobbing, everything just overwhelming me. "Why does he look like me, ve?" I sit down on the ground, my head in my hands as I started to sob. "Why did he hurt everybody I love, ve? Why is everybody shooting at me, ve? Ve...eee..." I feel arms wrap around me in a desperate bear hug, sobbing harder. "What did I do wrong, ve...veeee?" I say, clinging to the strong arms around me.
Germany shushes me, petting my head to try and calm me, clutching me close to his chest, "It's okay; you're okay," he sobs out, rubbing my back. "You did nothing wrong, nothing. You saved me, you're the best friend I could ever have." He takes a deep breath, seeming to try and stop crying, to hold it together. "I'm so glad you're okay, Feliciano. Thank you, I knew that wasn't you, it wasn't you, it couldn't have been you, you would never do that. It will be okay, I promise," Germany says, his voice trembling in fear or in sadness, I couldn't tell.
His words comfort me, and make me feel warm. But I'm still terrified out of my mind, just clutching to Germany for protection. I don't know what to do, I had just killed someone, and not just anyone: me. I had killed myself. I break down, sobbing into Germany's shoulder. Why did that thing have to look like me?
Germany shushed Italy, the nation trembling and sobbing into his shoulder, shaken by the ordeal. He sighs, happy that Italy was ok and that everything would be fine now. He looks up, hearing a noise and spotting Prussia stumble into the living room, holding his stomach, and panting badly. Prussia looks around in confusion, not understanding what the heck had happened. He was still trying to piece together everything he had just saw in the few minutes that had went by. He just saw Italy rush through the door, not once, but twice! And besides the fact of seeing double, he had been bleeding out onto the floor, his mental stability disappearing with the lifeblood. Then he had heard the one thing that made his heart stop, he had heard a gunshot. Worried for his brother's life and still confused about the double Italy's, wondering if he had tunnel vision, the albino had managed to push himself up. He pushes himself to get into the next room, to help his brother. Even if he couldn't stand straight, all he needed to do was locate the attacker and fall on him. Falling was one thing he could do right now. His eyes scan the room, worried for his brother's safety, looking from couch to the TV and the phone on the couch. He stops, seeing Germany hugging Italy tightly, the little nation shivering more than Latvia after Russia had almost killed him. Prussia sighs out, but then stops, his eyes focusing on something beside them. He shakes his head, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Was he really seeing double now? Besides Germany and Italy, was another Italy, only this one was lifeless and laying on the ground in a pool of blood. Prussia smiles, seeing Italy and Germany were ok. Those two his only concern at this point. Suddenly he is yanked out of his happy place, a firm hand pulling him out of the way, a gun clicking as the safety was taken off.
Italy hears the click and clings tighter to Germany, his eyes closed on fear and desperation, his body trembling in pure terror.
France pants in the middle of the living room, his clothes covered in blood and his limbs shaking from the run here. He had chased after Italy for miles until he lost him, knowing he would come here, the only other person he would ever have beef with. Now, France had Italy in his sights, and he wasn't going to let Italy hurt anyone, anymore. He would end this once and for all.
"Germany, stand back!" France says, his finger on the trigger, and his vision focused on the Italian clutched in his arms, seeing nothing else.
Italy clings even tighter to Germany, his stomach twisting in fear, he didn't want to die. He was scared out of his mind, unable to move. Italy tenses up, Germany glaring at France as the nation keeps his aim steady. Germany grabs Italy and pushes him behind him, standing in front of Italy to stop France from shooting him.
"Nein! Wait, let me explain." He says, holding his arms out, shielding Italy from any possible hit.
France tenses up, his brow furrowed in anger at the gesture. Germany was protecting Italy, the guy who was going around hurting everybody. He knew any minute Italy would attack Germany, this was just an act he was putting on, to trick him. The sly fox was crafty and pulling Germany into its little game, to make him protect him, and France wasn't going for it. France pushes Prussia back, as the former nation tries to get the gun from his hands, his weakened condition making it impossible to overpower France. France wouldn't fall for Italy's act; he would stop this killing spree, before it had a chance to start.
France growls, yelling out the demand. "Germany, move aside, he has tried to kill 4...no 5...6 nations already! Now move!" He squeezes the trigger slightly, the cold metal in his hands. "I will shoot through you Germany, no-"
"There are two Felicianos!" Germany blurts out, seeing that France was serious, and was focusing in on just him and Italy.
France stops, bewildered for a minute, his hands falling to the side. "Germany say what?" He says in awe, his face a mixture of emotions at this point.
From what Germany could see it was a mixture of fear, anger, sadness, confusion, rage, and anxiety, with a tad of bewilderment added just for good measure.
Germany motions over to the dead guy on the ground, the pool of blood surrounding him, as France stares now blankly ahead of him at the body. Italy trembles in fear, looking at France with wide amber eyes, wondering if he would be mad that he killed the other Italy as well.
France isn't going to be happy, I killed myself. He's going to kill me now!
France stares at the body on the ground, wondering how much wine he had had today, the only explanation he could find to this situation. He feels a twang of sadness in his chest, looking upon the dead Italy, but then stops, remembering that there was more than one Italy in the room. But...was the alive Italy the real Italy. France clings to his gun tighter, his anger flaring up slightly. Italy yelps and trembles, drawing France's attention, the older nation looking him straight in the eyes, the two staring at each other. France tears up, seeing pure fear in Italy's eyes, no sign of the coldness he saw in the other Italy's eyes as he faced him down behind the wardrobe. Only the pure innocence of the Ita-chan he loved and cherished. Germany sees the two nations locked in a staring contest, thinking France was about to try and finish his threat from earlier.
Germany clears his throat, catching France's attention. "Italy just saved my life, shooting this...thing." Germany looks at the dead guy. "Whatever it is."
France looks at the gun in his hands and back at Italy, feeling regret pooling in his stomach at what he had been about to do. He lets go, the deadly weapon clattering to the round as he smiles kindly, the tears making their way down his cheeks. He rushes over, embracing Italy as he burst into tears of happiness, clinging to the stunned Italian.
He's... he's not mad?
"I knew you wouldn't do this Italy, I knew you didn't hate us!" France says as Italy clings to him, just wanting comfort after his horrific ordeal. "You are too kind and loving to even think of this. I'm sorry I ever even let that cross my mind, Feli."
Everybody looks up as Prussia groans, holding onto his stomach, looking pale. "Um… excuse me..." he coughs, cringing in pain at the movement of his stomach. "The awesome me is in need of medical service, bitte," he manages out, looking feverish. "I can only bleed so much before I run out of blood…."
France lets go of Italy, rushing over to stop Prussia from falling to the floor, holding the former nation upright. He supports Prussia on his shoulder, looking at Germany, smiling as tears still clung to the corners of his eyes. "Germany, stay here with Italie, I'll take Prusse and see if ..." He stops, hearing a noise as the door was slammed open once more.
The nations look up as a disheveled looking Britannia Angel rushes in, out of breath and furious. He leaps into the living room, feathers falling from his wings and his halo lop sided from his running and his experience with the dead Italy. He was glaring around with his bright green emerald eyes, not pleased at all with being almost killed by one of the weakest nations. His pride wouldn't let the Italian get away with it, he would show him who the Former Empire of Northern Ireland and Great Britain was, and Italy wouldn't escape from him this time.
He looks mad, livid even as he searches around for Italy, revenge on his mind. "I'll kill him, shooting mate...who does he think he is dealing with. I'm a damn empire for cripes sake. Let me at him, I'll..." He stops, spotting the dead guy on the ground and Italy looking worse for wear. He stares from one to the other, and then looks at the people in the room. He was hoping he was seeing double from the exhaustion, but there was no escaping the truth. He groans slapping his forehead and growling, knowing exactly what had happened. He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathes out the answer. "A doppelganger…."
You could've heard a pin drop in the room, everyone looking at England in confusion. From both his choice of wear, and the words he had used to describe the dead Italy. "Doppelganger?" They all reply, not understanding what the heck he was talking about.
England sighs, straightening his halo and looking up at Italy, nodding his head in a silent apology. He smiles in relief, glad that it wasn't Italy after all, sighing out as Italy still looked around the room. He was still fearful, thinking he had did something wrong.
I know they are mad at me. Any minute now they will hurt me.
England studies the nation, seeing him frightful, seeming to give off the feeling of a rabbit trapped in a room full of hunting dogs, with nowhere to hide. It was as if he had accepted his fate, and was just preparing for the fussing out or possibly the punishment he knew was coming. England walks up to him Prussia trying to keep a straight face as he noticed just how short England's current uniform was. Germany however was just looking in annoyance, about ready to throw his pants at the nation, to cover up. England kneels down in front of Italy, looking him dead on, his arms crossed over his knees.
He looks kindly at Italy, trying to speak softly as if he was speaking to an easily spooked unicorn. "Italy...you okay?" He sees the nation shivering still, unable to stop.
Italy shakes his head. "I just killed myself, would you be okay, ve?" he says, tears streaming down his face, starting to hiccup from the stress.
The nations look down, finally realizing what Italy must be going through. Germany groans, placing a hand on Italy's quivering shoulder, Italy almost leaping out of his skin, but staying put. France looks as he sees Prussia cringing in pain, his blood still dripping on the carpet. He turns and helps Prussia out the door, assuring his friend he was going to be okay now. England meanwhile stands up, knowing Germany would be the only one able to really cheer up the Italian at this point. The angelic nation plops down on the chair, needing to take a break and figure out things. He needed to put together his knowledge of what had happened, to figure out the explanation to why there were two Italy's, one of whom was a dead psychopath. As the rest of the nations seem to disappear, leaving Italy alone, Germany sighs, kneeling down beside Italy, hugging the scared-to-death nation tightly. The Italian at first freezes up, still expecting something bad to happen, but then clings to Germany, sobbing again. Germany shakes his head in sadness, wishing he knew what to do to help Italy during this time. He didn't know how much therapy Italy would need after this, but he would stick with him, no matter what. After all, Italy was his only friend besides Japan. He knew that now more than ever. This experience, though haunting, made Germany know for sure that he and Italy were close. They had a bond that nothing could sever and they were there for each other no matter what. Italy had saved his life; nobody else would've done that besides Prussia. Italy just clings tightly to Germany, finally coming to his senses.
That monster almost killed Germany. I almost lost Germany! I don't know what I would do without Germany. It would break me. I can't lose another person I love.
He wraps his arms around Germany's neck, bringing the nation close to him, Germany gasping at the sudden movement. He sighs and pats his back, trying to calm the sobs trembling through the shorter nation. Germany looks at the dead guy as Italy clings tightly to him, the nation just wanting to feel Germany, to make sure he was there, and this wasn't a dream.
No, it's not a dream. This is a nightmare. A twisted nightmare that won't go away and almost killed Germany. And won't wake up from this one.
As Italy just clings to him, making sure he was breathing and unharmed, Germany shudders, remembering the dead Italy's face twisted into that evil smile, realizing how close he was to dying himself. The German had one thought on his mind at this point, only one simple question.
Who the hell was that?
The house was eerily quiet, the ticking of the clock was the only noise heard in the house. Italy was halfway asleep in Germany's arms on the couch, finally calmed down from his experience, dead hour closing upon them. Italy sighs, and snuggles more into Germany's arms, the nation asleep on the couch, not letting go of the smaller nation. Italy felt relaxed and protected against Germany's muscular body, at peace for the first time since all this drama had emerged. England has fallen asleep in the chair, still dreaming up ideas of what was going on. Italy barely hears the multitude of footsteps coming up the gravel outside, slowly falling asleep and joining the others in peaceful slumber. Suddenly Italy perks up, hearing to door open and looking as the light came on in the front room. At Italy's movement Germany wakes up and looks around, hearing footsteps coming towards the living room. He sits up, seeing his brother walk in, his stomach wrapped up and his uniform coat draped over his shoulders, smirking at him. Italy sits calmly on the couch. France walks in, motioning for the rest to come on, the lights coming on, startling England wake as well, seeing everyone coming in, straightening his halo and toga. Switzerland helps Austria into the house, Hungary following behind him, a green rabbit clutched in her arms. England brightens up at the sight of his familiar safe and sound in the female nation's arms. Italy looks in shock as the last two people come in, his eyes watering up. Spain walks in, looking a lot better than the last time Italy had seen him. He was ok, his clothes covering up what bandages he had on. He turns around and helps another nation through the door, looking a little more damaged. Italy feels the tears flowing down his cheeks as he spots Romano, alive. Spain grunts, helping Romano in as he struggled with his newly acquired crutches, bandages wrapping around his head, leg and shoulder. Italy's eyes grow wide in joy.
Fratello, Spain... They are alive!
Everybody seems at ease, a little sorrowful looking but more relieved at still being alive. Then the house grows quiet once more, everybody spotting Italy sitting beside Germany, smiling at them happily. The tension in the room flares up and everybody leaps into action at seeing the Italian standing before them. Spain stands protectively in front of Romano, glaring hatefully at Italy. The sudden movement makes Italy back up in reflex, seeing everyone immediately on the defense. Switzerland is already on the attack, the gun being pulled expertly out of its hiding place, pointing it straight at Italy.
"I thought you said he was dead, France," Spain declares, Italy wincing at the tone of his voice: low and filled with hate for the short nation.
Prussia is the first one to react and grabs Switzerland's hand, yanking the gun down. "Hold your horses, Swiss," Prussia says, Switzerland throwing him a death glare, and trying to get his hand out of Prussia's grasp. A vision of him hitting the albino with the pistol so he could shoot Italy before anything happened. "Let West explain what happened." He motions for Germany to start talking, all eyes on the two nations.
Italy looks around, catching hateful glares directed at him, shaking. He didn't understand why they were all so mad, when he was just happy to see them alive and breathing. He hides behind Germany, on the verge of tears, his small frame trembling like crazy. Germany sighs, looking back at Italy, staring lovingly down on him. He motions for the rest of the guys to follow him, pushing Italy in front of him as they head to the back room, more for protection from the rest of the nations than to keep an eye on him. The rest, including England, follow still glaring hatefully at Italy, the nation almost in tears. They head into the room, Germany motioning towards the corner. You could hear a pin drop in the room, the nations going from angry to in shock, not believing the sight before them. The dead guy is slumped in the corner, his eyes dull and lifeless: the same eyes as Italy. The clear red circle of blood on the front of the torn and worn blue Italian uniform showed that their attacker was certainly dead. Romano pales in reaction to seeing the dead person, an exact replica of his own flesh and blood brother. Spain just stares, unable to comprehend how he was seeing two of Italy, wondering if that was Italy's ghost standing beside Germany. Hungary holds Austria's hand, Austria himself seeming to take the shock well, not even letting his jaw drop in disbelief. Romano meanwhile is still frozen, his bottom lip trembling, his eyes threatening to spill the hot tears welling up.
"That... is your attacker," Germany says, patting Italy on the back, the shaken person jumping in surprise. "Italy actually saved my life, shooting this 'Thing' before it shot me." Germany gestures towards the dead man.
Romano turns away from the dead guy, looking at his little brother in regret. Here his brother was trembling and scared with everyone against him, and he was innocent as he ever was. He was scared and in need of his big brother. Romano wasn't about to let his brother be comforted by the Kraut, and not him. Everyone looks as Romano tosses down his crutches, Spain moving out of the way before one hit his side. Italy stares wide eyed as he limps over, grasping his little brother in a warm embrace, the tears flowing down his face.
"I knew it wasn't you, Fratello. I'm so sorry." He looks Italy in the eyes. "Where we're you North? Where did you go?" he asks, wondering how he escaped from being shot by the dead guy.
Italy gulps, seeing the rest of the nations looking at him, no longer mad, just very upset with themselves for thinking he would ever attack them and try to do anything like kill them. They instead look down lovingly at him, relieved he was ok. They were curious, though, to know exactly what had happened to him, and where the Italian had been this whole time. Italy looks at Romano and takes a deep shuddering breath, and starts his long speech gesturing with both hands.
Italy sighs. "Um...well... I knew you were having a bad day, so… I wanted to cheer you up. I was going to make pizza and I had all the ingredients laid out, ready to cook it. Except tomatoes. We were out of tomatoes. You need to stop throwing tomatoes at everyone, Romano. Anyway, I called Spain-san to see if he could bring me some tomatoes so I could make the pizza. He said he didn't have any though so I left for the store, so I could make you happy. At the store, I saw Greece and we got to talking about cats and siestas and some other things and before I knew it, an hour had went by and I realized you were probably already home." He looks at Spain and then back at Romano. "When I came home... you... you two were... dead." He closes his eyes, tears streaming down as he remembered the mess he had walked into: the sight of Spain on the ground, his hand clenched tightly around the house phone, blood pooling around him. He had frozen in shock, dropping the bag of groceries on the ground and ran into the house to find his brother sprawled out in the hallway. He had frozen in fear, his amber eyes tearing up and his hand over his mouth at the heart skipping sight. He then turn and ran from the house, screaming for help. "I ran from the house, to get help, but no one heard me so then I headed back for the store, to see if Greece was still there. But, by time I got there, no one was there. I then went to Austria's house and saw all the bullet holes and the lock shot out. I saw blood... and... and I went looking for Austria-san and Hungary-chan but... instead I saw England and France-nii-chan. France-nii-chan grabbed..." He chokes on his words, tearing up as he looks up at France. "Grabbed a gun and shot at me, trying to kill me." France winces, realizing that he had almost killed the wrong Italy, his stomach churning in guilt. "I ran, not knowing why France-nii-chan would try and kill me, ve. I then ran here and saw... Prussia. He looked confused at me and then looked towards the living room, where I heard Germany calling my name." Italy pauses, trying to keep himself together, "That guy... he had my voice, my hair, my uniform. He was saying hateful lies to Germany, saying we were never friends, ve. He went to shoot Germany and I... I... I grabbed the gun that Germany had given me... and... shot him. I shot myself, ve... Why did he look like me...?" Italy grabs his hair in confusion. "What's going on, ve?" He finally collapses, clutching tightly onto Romano, the older brother almost falling under the weight of the younger terrified one. "What did I do wrong? Why were you all glaring at me? What did I do, ve?" he yells out sobbing.
Germany sighs, walking over and hugging Italy, Romano not even minding that he was in the group hug.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Feliciano, that thing over there di-" Germany stops, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at the thing.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
The supposedly dead guy was glaring at the nation, struggling to get up now, his amber eyes bright in hate. The nations yell in fright, Switzerland struggling to get his gun out that he had put away. Romano pushes Italy behind him, desperate to protect his little brother from the dead guy, Italy yelping in fear. The thing glowers, growling as he saw that all his victims, including Romano were alive and well, his Vendetta had failed. He didn't know why there was a guy there that looked just like him, but he would kill him as well. But for now he was too weak right now, and outnumbered. He feints at the nations, them yelling and backing up. He dashes instead for the window, jumping through the glass and rushing into the woods.
France gulps. "Where'd he go?"
Prussia and England rush to the window, just seeing the fleeing guy enter the woods and disappear. "Bloody hell, he escaped!"
Italy meanwhile has rushed over to Germany, everything just too much for the nation, clinging desperately to him. He was trembling more than ever now, scared for life. Germany clutches onto him, determined not to let anything happen to him. The rest of the nations are in a panic, realizing that the thing was still on the loose, and wasn't afraid of killing anybody. It had now seen Italy, and that meant that he was the prime target now. There could only be one Italy, and the thing would make sure it was itself. Feliciano was its next victim.
The next chapter will be up soon. This and the last chapter was the first dream I had, from reading inquisitive dreams's story. The other chapters were from the sickness dream. I haven't figured out what the next chapter will explain, because...this is where it ended for me. I hope you enjoyed it. This is what happens when you get sick and have dreams...well for me anyway, it was one Twisted nightmare. OH and the prizewinners are… My girlfriend, MistressXofXCastleXOblivion. She didn't know for starters people… I was surprised she guessed it right. She lives like…. 6 to 8 hours hours from me on the other side of North Carolina people. And another person by the name of EnergyEmber who guessed right as well. Just Pm me Energyember on what your prise will be okay. Only the first two people do I count, so sorry for anybody else that guessed afterwards.
Mixalis: This, was a very twisted nightmare, Italy killed Italy? How does that even work? And he came back to life? What the heck happened?
Keiko: I don't know how Italy had a Doppelganger or how it came back to life, I just need to figure it out. Hopefully something will come to me. Man, its 4:30 over here once again and I'm typing it up. This sucks, I really need to go to sleep ve. But I had to finish this up, so I could try and figure out the plot and fill in the blanks. If I can't, I probably leave it at this... hope I can figure it out.
Mixalis: (Shudders) This might give ME nightmares...
Keiko: Well, it was based on a nightmare where I was Italy and then I had to kill my Doppelganger to save Germany. So, it's pretty much this chapter, ve…I woke up crying.
Mixalis: Right, it's called the Twisted Nightmare, forgot.
Keiko: Nothing, nothing... ugh... need sleep. Hope you enjoyed it.
((YEAH OF THE CHEETAH IS ALMOST ENDED TTATT. Nobody recognized the year of the cheetah as a year... I have failed in this mission... but..if you are one of the few who said...screw the tiger...year of the cheetah... put a X3 at the end of your review))