Black or White 11

Then the world shattered.

The stranger's eyes burst open at the mention of the taboo name. The light green eyes sparked insanely as they stared up at England.

England's eyes had widened in terror as the other man's skin had cracked like porcelain and exploded into nothing, leaving a lower layer behind.

The sight of it had distracted him from the tingling that had travelled along his own skin.

The figure who had been left in front of England was the shorter version, still grinning wildly with large blood red eyes now. England took a step back, feeling lanky and too tall compared to his normal self.

Missing information was flooding his brain.

He really was England, Arthur Kirkland. He had been alive for so long and seen so much. He was remembering everything!

He was England!

Not Scotland at all!

And he could remember Scotland!

Scotland and all his brothers!

And just everything!

It was shocking how much of an effect the soft uttering of a taboo name could have. England felt like his mind had been blown up. But despite the return of all his memories, he was still plagued by fear.

England attention was forced back onto the stranger as the man lunged forward violently, sweeping the scalpel in a low upwards arc. He jumped back, regaining his balance after stumbling slightly. His legs felt way too long. The terror he was feeling spiked, feeling terrified by the man's sudden, violent actions.

He blinked in surprise as he could see the attacker much more clearly. The darkness was still there, the blackness still hiding everything, but now England could pass that better. The mysteriousness that the darkness held was greatly reduced, and he could see almost clearly in the dark.

The short man with the scalpel was wearing only a pair of scrub trousers, tied tight around his slender waist. His skin was slightly flushed. The blonde spiky hair hung messily, some of it sticking up in a weird bed head. He had thick eyebrows, that topped large crimson eyes that were suddenly full of fury. It was unsettling to England because he easily recognised the figure now.

It was him.

It was his own body. A man who looked just like England! Though with horrible red eyes instead of his normal light green.

England had noticed all this in about a second, just barely enough time before the blade was swung down again, gripped inhumanly tight.

England avoided this blow a lot less clumsily than last time but this time the cut of the blade had been much closer. He gulped in fear, the threat on his life increasing the fear. The person in front of him was highly skilled but also just cutting blindly and in rage.

Arthur knew he had to get away now. This man in front of him was very dangerous, angry and had a weapon. But he needed to look to see the closest exit route but to do that would require removing his eyes from the crazy man with the knife. Luckily, some instinct had catalogued the surrounding area, giving him a fairly good mental map of the corridor.

'Turn 30 degrees and run fast!'

His body obeyed quickly, taking advantage of the attacker's brief pause to change his grip on the weapon. He headed back towards the lit up area of the hospital. He needed to find somewhere safe. The man was obviously targeting him and obviously inhuman, so going to a nurse or other normal human would simply in danger them.

He remembered his amnesiac self trying to return to his bed room. Though it had been an unreasonable thought created through his own terror, England pondered it slightly. The door had a lock on it and a phone. He would be able to delay the pursuer enough to call one of his brothers or something.

First though, he had to escape his chaser and find a new route to his room. Since he only ever went the same way each time, he didn't know any other way and trying to navigate this strange place would be difficult. Especially with a murderous psychopath hot on his tail.

Foot steps were sounding behind him now as the attacker started to run after England.

Arthur took a sharp right, sprinting faster and faster.

England ploughed through the memories of the last couple of days, trying to think of a way to bypass the attacker to the room. He desperately remembered seeing a fire exit two doors away from his room. If he could find a way outside, he could easily circle the building (avoiding the maze of hallways) and get to his room safely.

He need an exit!

England made a left followed sharply but another left. The footsteps behind him faded slightly but never completely disappeared. He was faster than the pursuer. England could tell by the sound of the bare flesh hitting a hard surface that the man was barefoot.

His eyes scanned the white walls for a door.

There was none along this stretch of hallway, just whiteness. Where were the fire exits?

Where, where, where?

Here and there, it's all white.

He made a right.

This hallway led to a ward, the walls lined with windows and door into patient's rooms. A ward meant that there was at least one fire exit for the patients to use when there was an emergency. It was just finding it that was the issue.

He stumbled to an abrupt stop as a nurse stepped out of a patient's room and into his path. She looked startled at him, obviously not expecting a man to running about so early in the morning. He looked down at her, realising how short she was compared to how tall he was. Which was strange considering he usually wasn't that much taller than most people.

England was breathing a little heavily, but he wasn't too exhausted from the sprinting yet. He was aware that his cheeks were probably a little pink though.

"Where's the exit?" He asked.

He knew he must have sounded very hurried. She was staring up at him with her mouth open. The nurse seemed to be gaping at his appearance in shock. Especially the top of his head for some reason, at his hair. She finally turned her head and pointed down the corridor.


The footsteps were getting louder again.

Closer and closer.

The man who looked exactly like him was catching up again. England did not question his suddenly good hearing, assuming that fear and adrenaline was increasing his senses. He jogged down the corridor, frantically turning his head in all directions, trying to see where this door was before the man entered the ward. He couldn't see it though! He couldn't see it!

"Here? Where? There?" He shouted out, knowing he sounded panicked.

The footsteps were so much louder now. The man must just be right outside the ward! He needed to find this exit now.

"Oh, it's that way." The nurse called back, her voice fading as he ran farther and farther down the gleaming white hallway. If only that man's footsteps would fade into nothing as well.

Finally he saw a green door marked with a faintly glowing 'Fire Exit' sign.

He reached for the bar, desperate to get outside quickly.

However he stuttered to a stop seconds later.

He blinked.

He could see his reflection in the glass panel in the door. Against the blackness of outside, he could see his appearance.

His new appearance.

He was quite tall, very pale skin, thick eyebrows and vivid blood red hair. He gasped slightly at the shock and horror of the fact he now looked exactly like Scotland. In fact he was Scotland! He was in his older brother's body! That meant that the person chasing him was his own body! Not just a look alike! And if he was in Scotland's body then Scotland must be in his body.

As if on cue, a blonde suddenly rounded a corner, his bare feet sliding slightly on the floor. The scalpel was still in his grip. He lunged forward, quickly gaining distance up the hallway and towards the in-shock England.

The now red head had no time to process the shocking news that he and Scotland had switched bodies.

He slammed his weight into the fire exit bar and forced the stiff door to fly open.

The freezing night air slammed back.

It didn't feel as cold as he expected. Scotland's body was used to a slightly colder climate though so that helped.

He turned to the right and ran along side the building, hoping it was the right direction to get to the fire exit by his room. Small stones and rocked crunched loudly under his feet. Seconds later, a second set of rustling footsteps joined his as Scotland left the ward to follow him.

The gravel is noisy.

There was no street lights on this side of the building. With no light, the entire place was blanketed with darkness. Normally it would be impossible for England to see anything but Scotland's eyes seemed slightly better in the darkness than his. It was quite helpful in such complete blackness. It was shocking how little light and colour there was. The darkness made it more difficult, as he already didn't know where he was. And everything was just black!

Black, black, black!

All here and there, where?

He turned around the corner of the building, wondering where he was now in comparison to his room's location.

Wherever, who knows?

Arthur felt so lost and terrified in the dark night being chased by his crazed brother. He could still hear Scotland chasing him, the sound of bare feet scraping up stones. Arthur was thankful for his shoes. The red head jumped over a low bush, thankful that Scotland's eyes were good enough to see it in this dense darkness. He had been avoiding lots of things hidden in the night, thanks to the body he was in.

He heard a small crash and rustling of leaves as his chaser tripped on the plant. England knew that if he was in his own body, seeing at night would be impossible for him. His eyes tended to be better in the daytime; the very opposite of Scotland who complained when it wasn't cloudy enough to keep the sun from blinding him. Very bright, sunny days filled with sunshine always bothered his older brother's eyes in his memories. He always preferred evenings, dusk and the night time.

Which raised the very good question of how the manic blonde was able to follow him so well in the dark. England knew that Scotland could probably barely see a foot in front of him but somehow he was able to keep up.

In fact, the sound of the gravely footsteps were getting louder now.

He was catching up!

The red head crashed around a corner, panicking now. The small stones scattered in his haste, hitting the wall of the hospital and the surrounding ground. The pitter patter of the rocks was lost on him though as the blonde behind him also hurtled around the corner. Scotland was gaining quicker and quicker now. He was so close. Only mere metres behind him.

The footsteps behind were so loud now.

Arthur almost cursed.

That's how Scotland was able to follow him despite being blind. The gravel is noisy. Every step he takes makes a sound which gives his position away. The blonde didn't need to see if he could hear.

He rounded another corner, sprinting at top speed. He was surprised by how much easier running became with really long legs.

England squinted through the darkness for anything that might looked like the outside of his ward. He recognised the shape of the building here. It was strange to see it from the outside but he was sure that this was the same shape of the ward he had lived in for the last couple of days. Now he needed to find the fire exit. The blackness extended along the unbroken stone wall, no fire exit in sight.

Oh there's nothing to see.

Just the stones of the wall. The door must be on the other side of the ward.

But now he knew where he was going. There was only two more corners and a short dash until the fire exit! Then he will be at his room, able to contact someone to help him.

This way, that way, over there.

He gets around the corners, feeling breathless as the terror and the running began to takes its toll. This fear was beginning to exhaust him. He already felt so tired from regaining all her memories and discovering he was in Scotland's body. However, the fire exit is in sight now!


A pebble hits the back of his leg, being kicked up by the bare feet that were chasing him. The crunching gravel behind him was so, so close now. The blonde must be right on his heels by now. He reached the door, yanking it open in one swift movement and turned left towards his own room. He heard bare feet hit the plastic floor mere seconds after his own. He wanted to turn around and see how close Scotland was but knew that doing so would probably get him caught. He got to his room, quickly opening the door before slamming it shut.

However a foot got stuck in the door way.

England's emerald eyes widened in horror as the bare foot, bleeding badly from small cuts and covered in dirt and small stones kept him from closing the door. The bloodied foot refused to budge as England leant his back on the door more, trying to force Scotland to retract his foot. Suddenly a hand grabbed the door's edge and began to push back.

The red head's body was stronger though that the shorter blonde's so the door did not open anymore. England stood there with his back to Scotland and the door, praying that someone would come and save him. He was terrified of his murderous brother living in his body, trying to get into his room. He could feel Scotland just behind his back, with only a wooden door separating them. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out this nightmare and his brother. If only Scotland would move his foot!

"Ohh. Won't ye turn aroond?" It came out as a soft whisper.

England shivered in fear, opening his eyes to glance at the gap in the door. It sounded strange, hearing his voice being spoken in a foreign accent. He could recognise his fingers, gripping the door tightly.

Suddenly the other hand appeared, with the scalpel, and the red head jumped away from the door. Thinking back on it, that was a stupid move as nothing was stopping Scotland from getting in now. The door exploded open, revealing the blonde standing there, half naked, bleeding and glaring with monstrously red eyes, instead of green.

England had lost balance with the force of the door being opened. He fell forward onto the bed. The red head could see the shadow on the sheets from the man in the doorway being cast on the bed. The shadow became bigger as the man moved closer. England shivered in fear as he felt the bed's mattress depress from the blonde climbing on the bed with him, basically straddling the taller man.

"Ohh. Won't ye turn aroond?" Scotland spoke again with England's voice.

The red head pushed himself up slightly and began to turn his head and body slowly, twisting underneath the other's weight so he would eventually face the man with the scalpel.

"Ohh. Won't ye turn aroond? Ohh. Won't ye turn aroond? Ohh. Won't ye turn aroond?" He chanted as England turned to face his older brother.

When he was finally faced Scotland, the blonde was stretching up, both hands gripping the shining scalpel tensely as it was held high in the air. The sharp metal blade glinted in the dimly lit room. Scotland was smirking cruelly, watching the fear cross the trapped man's face. The scalpel hover dangerous. He suddenly broke out into an almost sweet smile.

And then the blade dropped.

And then England screamed with Scotland's voice.


He closed his eyes, not wishing to see where the knife would hit.

(A/N - Gosh, I can't tell if I wrote this quickly or not. Well I wrote it anyways.

It's a big revealer chapter too. But there are still many mysteries that need to be figured out. Post any new theories!

I don't really have much to say.

I did have an idea though. I was think of making a PV with pictures from this story to the song that this based on. It would follow the rough story line of this, though some events would be in a slightly different order because this didn't follow the song perfectly. I'm not good at drawing though, and it takes me ages and ages to draw anything.