The Gate Beyond

Chapter Three: The Black Trumps

Author's Note: HOLY FUDGE MONKEYS! HOW DID I COME UP WITH THIS CHAPTER? IT'S SO LONG. 3,000 PLUS WORDS! WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?! -cough- Ahem, sorry about that, but... Seriously. This is my longest chapter EVER. THREE. FLIPPING. THOUSAND. PLUS. WORDS. I owe it all to you guys for motivating me to continue this story to this extent. XD Anyway, as usual, please enjoy and point out any writing errors I make so I can correct them! SAPPHIRE OUT!

Warning: Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

-*o*o*o*-

Chapter Three: The Black Trumps

Matthew faced his brother who was now wounded and covered in bandages. The bandages obviously needed to be changed, as they were soaked in blood, but they simply didn't have anymore of the white cloth to spare. Alfred was clearly angered by something and clenched the bed sheets of the small bed he found himself in, trying to keep his anger to a minimum.

"I told you already! I'll be your substitute!" Matthew shouted, throwing his hand to his chest as if to prove a point, "Look, we look almost exactly the same. It would completely fool the enemy. You're injured, so I'll be your decoy-"

/It's pointless./

"I already told you to cut that out!" Alfred yelled and threw the Canadian a deadly glare. Matthew winced at the glare, his determination fading slightly.

/I'm sick of this./

"How many times do I..." Alfred growled, tears falling down his cheeks as he clenched the bed sheets tighter, "How many times do I have to lose you and everyone?!"

/Why don't you just let me help?/

The scene suddenly morphed into a small room with an odd, ivory piano in the center. Matthew moved about the room, now alone because England had gone to search through the books in the next room over. His train of thoughts were suddenly brought to a stop, his previous thoughts blow away by the nonexistent wind.

"Um... What was I thinking about again? I forgot it when I talked to England..." He let out an irritated sigh and moved past the ivory piano, "First the piano. God, America's always getting us into trouble. Why can't he be a little more considerate? I mean-" The door suddenly clicked open, and assuming it was England, he continued with his back turned, "Oh, is that you, England? I'm sorry; I haven't looked here yet. Also! We were told not to do anything alone, remember? I'm coming with you this time."

There was no reply, which made his suspicions rise. He licked his lips nervously at the harsh, horridly familiar breathing that filled his ears. He turned slowly towards the breathing, his eyes widening in terror at the monster towering before him, "Whoa! Wh-wha-what-"

The creature brought its arm down, grabbing him and throwing him against the wall like a rag doll. He grunted in pain, but he didn't have the time to recover as the creature stabbed him with its vicious, clawed hand. His heart stopped in his chest as he felt the intrusion inside his stomach. The minute it was removed, he heaved one last breath and faded into black.

/I.../

/I can't see anything.../

/Anything but the dark.../

-*o*o*o*-

Matthew sat up in his bed, much like the last time he had awakened from a similar nightmare. His skin felt awkward and slick from sweat, making Matthew scrunch his nose in distaste. He looked towards his open window to find the full moon still high in the sky, sitting like a proud king among the twinkling stars.