Based off the book "And Then There Were None" by Agatha Christie.
Warnings: Contains non-explicit pairings (AusHun, LietPol, GerIta, slight USUK), gore, character deaths. Human AU. Everyone is a little OOC – they're here for a reason, you know. If you've read the book you'd probably know why.
I own neither And Then There Were None nor Hetalia.
Long time no see, old pal. I have missed you sorely, and I wish for you to grace me with your presence once more. I would be very much honoured if you were to accept my housewarming party invitation. There will be entertainment provided, and many of our other friends (like Roderich and Elizaveta) will be joining us as well."
The address, date and time was written below.
Gilbert Beilschmidt raised his pale eyebrow. Who the heck was this person? Apparently the mysterious sender knew Roderich and Elizaveta as well, but Gilbert hasn't the slightest inkling about who he might be. It was strange. Still, he had met quite a number of people in his lifetime, and he could be just a passing acquaintance who was so taken-in by Gilbert's good humour that he had never forgotten him since.
It was totally plausible.
Gilbert read the letter once more. He was feeling charitable, and since this person enjoyed Gilbert's company, if this person wanted Gilbert to be there, he would be more than happy to oblige. At least someone was appreciating his awesome self.
I hope you are faring well. I haven't heard from you since the last time we talked. Would you be agreeable to attend my housewarming party on the 12th of May? This would be a splendid opportunity for us to catch-up. Free food, drinks, lodging and anything else you may require will be provided."
Basch Zwingli's hands shook at the last line. He had been cynical about this message from the start, especially since there was no sender's name, but that last line! How could he turn down such an attractive offer?
Written below were the details of the party.
Basch bit his bottom lip. There was absolutely no harm in going. He could protect himself darn well, and there would be everything he needed there. He wouldn't waste a single cent. Not knowing the person didn't even matter. Maybe he'd recognise him by the face. If he didn't, he could just nod and give grunts of agreement as the person spoke, like he completely understood what he was saying. All of this was a small price to pay – pardon the pun – for saving a few dollars.
That settled it. Basch was going on a little holiday.
"Roddy! There's mail!" Elizaveta Héderváry – now known as Elizaveta Edelstein – called, scampering into the house with a single brown envelope.
Roderich Edelstein looked up from his piano score. "I told you not to call me Roddy..." he chastised his wife gently. "Who's the mail for, and who's it from?"
Elizaveta turned the envelope over then flipped it back, confusion crossing her delicate features. "It's addressed to the both of us, but the sender isn't stated."
"Maybe it's written inside. Go on, read the letter," Roderich prompted.
Elizaveta dug her finger into one end of the envelope and tore a jagged line through it, then pulled out the neatly folded white paper inside. She unfolded it and began to read.
"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Edelstein,
First of all, congratulations on getting married! I am deeply sorry for being unable to attend your wedding. To make up for it, would the happy couple like to celebrate in my new house? It has everything your heart desires. For Roderich, a room full of musical instruments, and for Elizaveta, a large shelf of shounen-ai."
Roderich interrupted then. "What's shounen-ai?"
Elizaveta laughed guiltily. "It's nothing, dear Roddy. I'll continue reading."
"All expenses will be covered by me. I'd be delighted if you could come."
"After that is the details of the party," Elizaveta finished.
"Who is this? We must know this person, and possibly even invited him to our wedding ceremony. Why didn't he leave his name?" Roderich groused. He must've forgotten to jot his name down. Roderich could think of a few people who were just that air-headed.
"I think the question now is whether we will accept this invitation," Elizaveta said. "We'll find out who he is when we meet him."
She felt warm and bubbly. This sender was obviously well-off. The above-mentioned island was famous for its beautiful scenery, fresh air and clear waters. This trip would be like a second honeymoon, except with lots of third wheels about.
"That's true..." Roderich conceded, pushing his glasses up with his index finger. "Pack your bags, Elizaveta."
I've missed you! How are you doing? Life's good on my side. I just bought a new house on an island."
Feliciano Vargas' eyes skimmed the address, his smile widening.
"It's so beautiful. I would love for you to come over on the 12th, at 5pm, where I'll be hosting a housewarming party! See you there!"
Feliciano wasn't sure who this person was, but then again, he didn't have a superb memory. Maybe he had met this person a mere week ago. There had been a large event last week, and he had met so many people there; people whose names and faces he had forgotten by now.
Feliciano looked over the address again. He was more than willing to go visit his new friend. The house must certainly be stunning. Feliciano had heard of this house – it was a lone mansion on a tranquil island off the coast of England. His friend must be really rich.
Feliciano wandered to the kitchen to shove some pasta in his bag. He knew an Englishman who couldn't cook to save his life, and Feliciano was determined to step in and save the day with pasta.
Now... Tomato-based sauce or cream-based sauce?
Alfred F. Jones jittered in excitement. He had just received a letter describing a kickass mansion in the middle of the ocean where a huge party would be held. It sounded way too good to be true. Alfred needed to check it out with his local British snob.
Alfred picked up the phone and punched in his number.
"Hey, Artie!" Alfred exclaimed once the Englishman picked up the phone.
Arthur Kirkland held the phone away from his ear. Why did Alfred have to call? Arthur was having a good day, too.
"What?" Arthur snapped.
"Do you have a spooky mansion on some island in your country?" Alfred asked.
"Please, the entire country is made up of islands." Arthur rolled his eyes. He had been to Alfred's house once, and his "World Map" consisted of only one country – America. No wonder the git remained so ignorant.
"I'm serious! Is there an island a short distance away from Devon?"
"Wait..." This place sounded familiar. Arthur's eyes strayed to the sheet of paper strewn carelessly on the table. He snatched it up and scanned the letter once more. Soldier Island... Devon... England...
"I'm waiting," Alfred hollered.
"Wait some more!" Arthur yelled back. The gears in his mind turned rapidly. If Alfred wanted to know how to get there... Did it mean both of them had been invited to the same party?
Sounds of unseemly munching floated through the speakers in response.
"Alfred. Oi, wanker," Arthur barked. His own voice sounded strange to his ears. "Did you get invited to a bullshit party?"
"Bullshit?" Alfred sounded affronted – as affronted as he could sound with his mouth stuffed, anyway. "It's gonna be awesome!"
"You don't even know the bloke who sent the letter!" Arthur retorted. After Arthur had read the letter, he had snorted and tossed it aside. No way was he going to attend a shady party by some anonymous person.
Except... At least now he knew Alfred was going. If Alfred was going, maybe the sender was a mutual friend of theirs whom he had let slip from his memory.
Arthur swallowed. "I presume you are attending this obscure party, then?"
Alfred's enthusiastic reply of "Of course!" confirmed Arthur's decision to go.
"To the esteemed Mr. Ludwig,
It has been a long time since we have contacted each other. I trust that you are doing well."
"What is this shit..." Ludwig Beilschmidt muttered, his cold blue eyes roving the paragraph before him. This person seemed like he was bootlicking him, yet he hadn't a single clue who he was. And now said person was asking him to attend a housewarming party on the 12th of May, at 5pm.
"Your brother has also been invited. I hope to see all of you there."
"My brother?" Ludwig repeated with barely-concealed anger. If Gilbert went, he'd definitely have to go as damage control. But this also meant that the person knew Gilbert.
Ludwig examined the letter thoroughly once more. There wasn't even a shadow of a name anywhere. He grunted in disapproval at the unprofessionalism of the sender. Perhaps it was an accident. Judging by the writing, this letter had been hand-written, and it was easy to overlook something as trivial as a name when penning out tonnes of letters. Ludwig saw no harm in merely attending this party. It wasn't like he was going alone – Gilbert would be there.
"There's a letter for you, and one for me!" Feliks Łukasiewicz announced, planting a crumpled brown envelope into his boyfriend, Tolys Laurinaitis', hands.
"Oh?" Tolys peeled the seal of the letter away eagerly. Feliks had already ripped his letter open. The both of them began to read.
Their expressions changed into one of puzzlement as they read on, and soon they were scouring each square inch of the letter in search of the sender's name.
"Like, who is this?" Feliks demanded. "I totally won't go to a random stranger's party."
Tolys' graceful fingers traced the words. "The person was nice enough to invite us, it would be rude of us to reject."
"But we, like, don't know him!" Feliks protested.
"I'm sure we do. And I'm sure he knows us, or he would not have invited us." Tolys placed a reassuring hand on Feliks' shoulder. "Didn't you mention you want a holiday?"
"Yeah, I want one with you. Not some bustling party filled with unfamiliar faces." Feliks pouted.
"Hey, we get to stay for a week long. I'm sure we'll have time to spend some private time together. Wouldn't it be nice? On a remote island, surrounded by nature..." Tolys' voiced trailed off as he pictured the scene.
"I... Guess it would be pretty rad," Feliks conceded, his harlequin orbs flitting to the invitation. "You have to, like, help me pick out clothes! Come!" He gripped Tolys' wrist and dragged him towards his room.
The days rolled by, and the twelfth of May soon approached. The ten protagonists of the story did a final check of their baggage, then set off towards Devon. Their luggage wasn't the only things they had brought with them, though. Their ghastly past haunted their every step, and the guilt burdened them, weighing down upon their weary shoulders.
These ten people had been selected because of... certain qualities, shall we say?
Now, let the revenge begin.
Uh... Hi. :'D Terribly-written prologue is terrible. I can't do it as well as Agatha Christie. I have shamed her.
Marchen quote in the last line hahaha. *Shot* I don't even know anymore. T.T
I'm trying not to make this sound like a crack story but I keep lapsing into crack and I can't help it!
This is just the beginning. The actual chapters will be way longer.
Characters in the story:
Prussia – Gilbert Beilschmidt
Switzerland – Basch Zwingli
Hungary – Elizaveta Héderváry
Austria – Roderich Edelstein
North Italy – Feliciano Vargas
America – Alfred F. Jones
England – Arthur Kirkland
Germany – Ludwig Beilschmidt
Poland – Feliks Łukasiewicz
Lithuania – Tolys Laurinatis