Hetalia-More Then Meets the Eye

The plot is based off a CMV by one of my favorite cosplay groups AiAnime! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnLrdQJrRw4) I recommend watching it so you are not confused!

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4

Hungary's & Germany's POV


“Poland! Look to your left!” I yell as a zombie goes straight for my friend. He quickly slices the thing in half with his sword. We are again back to back as three more zombies come for me, and two others at Poland.

I cut the first one in half as Poland mirrors my actions. I quickly bring my blade back around to dismember another zombie. We rapidly finish off the last two and continue forward, warily keeping silent. We have been doing this for about three hours; being attacked, fighting them off, then moving forward. Our end destination at the moment is Germany’s house which is where all the countries are gathering to see how we are going to move forward.

“Italy! Come and clean up the mess you made in the kitchen.” I say, walking around my house in hopes of finding the Italian.

“But I do not want to Doitsu!” Italy says, once finally find him lounging on the couch. I walk up to him, and he jumps up and tackles me- just as usual.

“Come on Italy, into the kitchen.” I say, dragging him with me. Once we get there instead of cleaning he goes to eat some of his leftover pasta.

“Nein Italy! Clean this mess up!” I say walking to the sink, narrowly avoiding a pile of flour on the floor and stepping quickly to the side so that I can keep from having tomato sauce drip onto my head. I sigh and continue try to make my way to Italy, staying away from the pool of eggs on the floor. Once I finally make it over to him I grab his pasta from him and dump it in the trash.

“Doi-doitsu!” He yells as he runs over to the trashcan.

“Clean this up.” I say as I walk out.

~3 hours later~

“Italy, have you finished cleaning up?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen. Before I can see if he got anything done he tackles me. I try to get up, but he forcefully holds me down. Has he always been this strong? I then suddenly feel something cold on my cheek, and I look to see that Italy is tracing the shape of my face with a paring knife.

“Italy, what are you doing?” I say as I push him off of me. He gets up quicker than I do and gets up into my face with the same smile he always has.

“Italy, put the knife away, so that we can go and train.” I say as I walk to the door.

“No.” He announced, as though his word was final.

“Italy. It is time for training, let’s go. Now.” I grab his wrist and start to pull him out. Before I can get through the door, he has my wrist in his grip and I suddenly have lost clutch on his wrist. I try to pull him, but he turns me around so that I am facing him. I begin to utter his name, but he takes his knife and tries to cut a giant gash in my stomach. To my surprise, it cuts straight through my shirt and does cut my skin. He then continues closer to me and begins to make little incision on my cheeks, which I try to block but have not luck.

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