Chapter 1: Devil in the detail

The water was pure white and soothing to the skin, mixing in with the drops of white, warming liquid falling down from the pitch black sky. The air was clear and free of the smell of smoke and alley scum usually accustomed to large cities like this. Trees ambushed the area like soldiers of war, all varying shades of green, red, orange, or yellow. There wasn't one area void of color, dousing the small boy in the middle of it all in a sea of life. Though, really, it was devoid of any. The only thing moving was Matthew as his chest moved up and down with his breathing. Matthew sighed when he remembered this, knowing that was the only thing he couldn't change here.

It wasn't often that Matthew came here nowadays. After all, grown men didn't live in fantasy worlds. They lived in their second story homes and glass-encased offices. Of course, Matthew had never been one for stereotypes. As a child, it had been his hobby to contradict them all.

But now he was a member of the elite, adult, human society, and was expected to act as one while there. So it was that Matthew retreated to this sanctum of a dreamland when things get tough.

Like now, at his brothers "party", sitting in the corner of the loud and crowded room. It seemed every member of the group had already forgotten that the party had actually been for him, on his 21 birthday. He had shrugged it off at the time, having convinced himself that he was used to it.

He got up from the small, uncomfortable chair and headed to the only room he could really find solace.

Up the spiral staircase, take a right, and the last door to the left. He grabbed a ladder from under the stairwell and carried in to right hand corner. He climbed it and felt around the plaster, looking for the small crack he always left. Suddenly, he felt the edge of the opening knick his finger and he pulled his hand back and into his mouth. Bingo. There were hidden doors and entrances like this all over the house, as it was built during WW2 and such had been needed. All led to different hiding rooms, but this one his favorite.

It was the piano room.

He looked around once more, having always been cautious and even a little paranoid about the room, he closed the hatch and locked himself in the room. Smiling fondly at the piano, he sat on the bench and ran his hands over the keys, mind immediately taking his hands to the keys of a tune from days past. His eyes closed in euphoria as he reveled in the sound of the beautiful, reminiscent music.

Euphoria.

At the word that echoed in his head after having been uttered, even mentally, he was instantly transferred to the mystical, yet imaginary land he had created for himself as a kid. He smiled when the sounds of the piano filled the air like bird songs and ran straight to the field. He didn't know why, but he could change everything in this world with only a single touch. Everything except himself.

He was always the same age that he was when he found this paradise and he was always wearing the same long dress type outfit. It was usually empty, but on that day, something changed.

As Matthew lay there, both cold and hot, enjoying the snow and the blazing sun in the fields of clean grass, the "sun" blinked. Twice. Then, it slowly faded, eventually turning a dark red. The air, once calm, had began wildly wiping at the trees, grass, and toddler, who's eyes shot open at the sudden change. That was odd. He hadn't asked for this. Slowly, the suns light dyed everything a deep red and the snow turned into tears of hot blood tearing through the sky like acid rain. Matthew jumped up, shielded himself from the liquid heat, and stuck his hand in the lake.

"Stop! Go back!" he said.

"Heh, what a weird kid. Talking to water like it'll just do what you say- Are you crazy? And where are we even?", a slithering, chilling voice spoke.

Matthew turned around and what he saw was enough to knock the wind out of him.

A tall man surrounded by black flames in a white pinstriped suit smirked evilly down at the six year old. His hair was bright white, as was his skin, and his eyes were blood red, which sent shivers down Matthew's spine. His smirk spread at the terrified look on the boys face, revealing razor sharp teeth and a blue tongue.

So distracted were the two that they didn't notice the trees regain movement and began slithering their branches towards the demonly being.

Matthew trudged up all the courage in his small body and stood tall, opening his mouth to question the strange, terrifying man, but was interrupted when the man suddenly appeared directly in front of him and clasped his dark aura-surrounded hand down on his head.

Then he felt it.

To explain it in human terms, it was black. Not black in color, really, more in feeling. If that makes any sense. A blackness unaccustomed to this world suddenly encompassed his very mind and being. It sifted through his memories, thoughts, and feeling like one would skim a book. His bones and nerves were wrapped around and pondered over, as if it were trying to understand their meaning and being.

Then it touched his heart.

It wrapped around it like a snake and squeezed any courage or hope out of him, leaving him a terrified shell of pity.

The man bent down to his height, snapping his fingers in front of his pale and quivering face. "Kid? Kid, can you hear me?", he said. No, not said, telepathed. As in mentally spoke to him.

Matthew nodded. The man smirked triumphantly.

"Good. Now, I need you to do something for me."

The boy nodded again.

The man put his hands to his own chest, then Matthews blue-purple eyes watched the hands slowly sink into it. The man winced as he searched through his own body (or whatever it was. Maybe it was just a soul) for whatever it was he was looking for. Then, suddenly he perked up, smiling, pleased with himself for having found it as he slowly brought it back out of his body (or soul). When he brought it out to the open, Matthew saw it was a crown. Or it was for a minute

The crown itself seemed to be made entirely of the blackness currently in his being and surrounding the tall man's body. It swirled and changed shape constantly. Sometimes it was a kings crown, circular and pointed on one end with a small, color-changing jewel on it. Then it was a pocket watch, then a marble, then a staff.

The man smirked at the object, muttering things to himself (out loud this time) while he clasped the object in his hands and squeezed. A cracking sound was heard, and for some reason, Matthew winced. The man kept squishing the shape shifting object until, when he removed his hand, Matthew saw nothing but dust.

The man pulled out a locket from his pocket. It was a large (about the size of the lid on mouth wash) white circle with small ribbon diving in and out around the edges. In the middle was kept a small jewel, blood red and heart shaped. The man opened it and poured the dust into it, the closed the lid. The aura around one of his fingers turned blue suddenly and he pushed it against the edges of the lock, where it opened. He whispered words to it, then the finger was removed and the blue aura it held disappeared.

The man moved to give the locket to the boy, but was stopped by the branches that had slowly snaked their way to the monster who invaded their home and harassed and terrified their master. They wrapped around his ankles, waist, and hands, pulling him towards the boiling hot pond.

Matthew, feeling the blackness in him reseed, jumped to help the mysterious intruder.

The man growled and shouted words in an unknown language, his aura turning blue, red, green, purple, every color on the spectrum, all to no avail. As one branch was burned, frozen, vanished, or what-have-you, another one appeared, an unending onslaught of bark encrusted limbs and leaves. He could feel the heat radiating behind him, causing him to sweat and close his eyes to the pain he would inevitably feel soon. He wouldn't die, but that didn't mean he was immune to pain. That was his father. And now his brother.

Then, they stopped.

The man opened one eye, then the other. And frankly, what he saw would have intrigued the devil himself.

The boy was petting the branches, calming them, and telling them to leave the man alone in a small, quiet voice. He smiled at the branches as they unraveled themselves from his frame and wrapped themselves around the boy's. The ends came up and tickled his face, almost like a dog would lick the face of it's owner affectionately, and he made a bell-like giggle.

As the man watched on in awe, the boy put his hand in the boiling water, not even flinching.

"Calm down. This man is fine. I will deal with him."

The water immediately dropped temperature, as if trying to soothe the burn it had undoubtedly caused him.

"It's fine. Don't worry. I love you anyways."

The boy smiled and was quiet for a bit before laughing. "I agree!"

Having regained control of his tongue, he looked questioningly at the boy. "Agree with what?"
The boy sent him a slightly disappointed look. "You couldn't hear, could you?"

When the man nodded, the boy sighed and waved him over. "Stick your hand in the water."

The man gave him a bewildered look, knowing that if he did, it would just heat up and burn him again. The boy sighed again, then stuck his hand in as well. "Don't worry. He won't burn you if I'm here."

"He?", the man thought to himself. Hesitantly, the man stuck his hand in the water. Suddenly a small, timid voice entered his mind.

"B-but, master, I don't think this the best idea...What if he-"

"Tori, you, like, totally gotta take a chill pill! If Mattie says the freaks cool, then he's cool!"

"Feliks! You shouldn't be so rude! It is impolite to call master by his name!"

The man sweat dropped, having noticed that the smaller, more timid voice and completely neglected to mention how rude it was to call him a freak.

"Boys, boys, calm down! Toris, I've told you before that it was fine to call me by name, I even prefer it. Feliks, um, thanks? For defending me and trusting me, I mean. But it is just as rude to call this man a freak. Though he may be one." the boy muttered the end of this.

"Then what'er we supposed ta call him?"

The man snorted, clearly amused. "Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt. Not that it matters."

They heard two squeals and then it went completely silent.

"Great. You've went and scared them. You can go ahead and take your hand out, they won't talk to you. The two, for all their antics, are terrified of strangers and shy to a fault." The boys eyes got a glassy, far away look to them. "It's sweet, actually."

The man coughed and pointed to the trees (now back to their original position) and the pond. "So, 'Mattie', care to explain that to me?"

Matthew glared to the man. "It's Matthew to you, sir. Or 'Gilbert', as you so fit yourself to be called. And that was none of your business. It was mine, as is your reason for invading my-our home. If anyone needs to explain, it would be you, Gilbert."

Matthew's acidic tone and long words surprised Gilbert. Children didn't talk like that. Gilbert shrugged it off, looking down to small boy, who Was giving him one hell of a death glare.

"You give me my explanation, I'll give you yours.", he said with such nonchalance, it outraged the toddler.

Though he was angry with this demonic, arrogant, cunning man who had entered his supposedly imaginary world. It baffled him that people existed here. Or whatever it was Gilbert was. He was truly curious about this chilling being in front of him, and if he wanted answers, he would have to explain himself. He sighed, giving in.

"What you are standing in is the imaginary world I made as a child. It's beyond me how you got here, but I've never seen any other living thing here other than you."

Gilbert tilted his head from side to side, letting the idea that he was in a dream world sink in, before he nodded, intrigued. "So I gather that you're not a child, despite your presence."

Matthews face fell at the mention, now looking bitter and lonely. "No, sadly I am not. In fact, today is my twenty-first birthday. Not that anyone would know. Or care."

Gilbert hummed in understanding, nodding. "Happy Birthday, then. But what about the trees and the water?"

Matthew smiled now. "These," he said, gesturing to the sky and the ground and the trees and the pond. "are my friends. They're all I've ever had. After my father died, no one was there. Sure, Arthur adopted me into his family and Alfred was...Alfred. But after Papa, no one truly loved me. So I made this. I call it Euphoria."

"'Supreme bliss', correct?", Gilbert interrupted.

"Correct! There are no bugs or germs, no animals nor humans. There are no diseases and no pain. Just me and the breeze, as they say. Everything here has a soul. Every tree has a voice, a name, and a personality. All you have to do is touch it to know. Touch it and listen to what it has to say. That's all they want." then he looked at the ground and blushed, muttering, "That's all we want."

Gilbert's eyes softened at this, knowing exactly how Matthew was feeling, yet not knowing how to react to that feeling or how to comfort him. Instead, he moved onto his end of the deal.

"I am here to ask a favor of you."

Matthews eyebrow rose, giving Gilbert a wary look. "What favor?"

Gilbert smirked and pulled out the locket. "See, I need to hide this. Don't worry, you won't be hurt if it's found, though I might. All you have to do is wear it. Just...Whatever you do, don't open it."

Now Matthew was curious. "Why not?"

Gilbert's seemingly permanent smirk faded and revealed a serious frown. "If you open this, the...darkness that invaded you earlier will come again, ten fold. If not more. It will most likely either corrupt you and cause you to go crazy and kill everyone you can find, or it will kill you. In some cases, it has caused self-cannibalism or suicidal tendencies to appear."

Matthew reared back in disgust, but still being intrigued by the locket, opened his hand for it. "Okay, don't open the locket. Got it."

Gilbert laughed at his facial expression, putting the locket into his tiny hands. "Don't worry kid, I personally think you're already insane."

Matthew stuck his tongue out a the man. "I could say the same about you, Gilbert."

Gilbert's face was soon back to it's serious mask. "The locket will try to talk to you, persuade you to open it and peak inside. Just...ignore it, okay. It just wants to cause trouble. And that's my job."

The two laughed and Gilbert finally passed the locket over to Matthew.

As soon as the locket was placed in his hand, he instantly felt nostalgia creep into his pours. He felt safe, powerful even, with the object in his hands and he instantly put it on, noting how it was right on top of his heart.

"Oh, Mattie, could you do me another favor?"

Matthew looked up distractedly and hummed a reply.

"Could you tell your 'friends' to back off. There's something I have to do that they won't like."

Matthew nodded and walked over to the water, stick his hand in and telling the souls inside to be silent. The water turned ice cold and bubbled threateningly, but then calmed down, as if agreeing. The acidic rain falling from the skies lessened and lessened until they were no more. He then walked to the trees and wrapped his hand around one of the branches which were already wrapping themselves around his waist and arms and legs, tickling his face and neck and sides. He whispered to them, asking them to be still and whatever happened, to leave the man alone. They seemed to stiffen and glare in Gilbert's direction (if that was even possible for a tree), then relax and disentangle themselves from Matthews small, lithe frame. Matthew smiled appreciatively and thanked them.

Then he walked back to Gilbert, who put his hand on the boys head again. The boy looked confused.

"Wha-"

"Sorry."

The black entered his head again, though this time, it's intention wasn't of scaring him into submission. Before Matthew could even figure out where it was going or what it was doing, everything faded into black.

The trees and the water froze. Hell, even the air around him seemed to stop circulating. Then, as if begrudgingly, it slowly returned to normal.

Gilbert glared at the normal enough objects around him, as if expecting them to suddenly grab out for him, which, with what he'd just done to the boy, might happen. His expression softened when his eyes landed on the sleeping boy in the grass. His soft, honey colored hair was splayed all around him and over his face, making him look like a sleeping bride with a golden veil. His beautiful blue-violet eyes, while shut, twitched under his eyelids and he groaned, then turned on his back, as if he was having a stressful dream. Or a nightmare.

Gilbert leaned over and brushed his hair out of his face, smiling. It surprised him. He almost never truly smiled. The smile vanished when he remembered that he would probably never see the boy again.

As he thought back on the boy who seemed so pure, yet at the same time, tainted by secrets and blood, his frown grew sad, rather than resentful. He vowed to himself to see this boy again, if only to figure out what he was so keen on hiding.

He swept all his hair away from his face before he lightly kissed the boys forehead and whispered, "Schlaf gut, mein dunkler kleiner Engel.*"

Then, he was gone.

The moment Matthew was knocked unconscious in Euphoria, he was sent back to reality, where he was madly playing the keys to a dark, serious melody that, honestly, scared Matthew a little. He didn't know that song.

Matthew jumped up from the piano and fell to the floor, where he sat up, then crawled over to the secret exit. When he removed the panel, he was dismayed to find that the ladder had been moved. It put him at quite a disadvantage, considering he couldn't call for help lest it reveal his piano and he couldn't just jump.

Well, why not?

Matthew jumped at the voice that echoed through his head.

"Who are you?"

Your fairy godmother. I'M THE LOCKET, YOU IMBECILE! Honestly, you humans are as dumb as dirt!

"Hey! Excuse me, but I find that offensive!"

Honestly, Matthew had forgotten about the locket. That and he had assumed that the locket wouldn't follow him to reality. After all, nothing else did.

Good. 'Cause it wasn't a compliment, kiddo.

"S-shut up!"

Make me.

"..."

Yeah, that's what I thought. Now do you wanna get down from here, or just survive on piano keys forever.

"And how exactly do you plan to do that, Mr. All-knowing-inanimate-object?"

Three things. One, don't back talk your elders. It's rude.

"You're rude! And a locket!"

Not always. Two, my name's Lovino. Get it, got it, good. And lastly, I thought maybe you could just, you know, JUMP?

"Jump? I don't know if you can see this, but I'm dangling about, oh, TEN FEET OFF THE GROUND! That's not exactly the best height to be jumping from!"

The locket chuckled. Don't worry, brat. You'll be fine. Probably.

"That's not very reassuring!"

You got two choices, kid. You can jump now, or I can push you.

"Wait, I thought you couldn't get out of the locket?"

I can't. That scossa* blocked my escape abilities. But he did leave me with minimal outer movement abilities. I can't do anything serious, like slapping you or moving things around, but I can make your hand move two inches, pushing it over the edge, send you tumbling out of balance and over the edge of the panel hole.

Matthew nodded. "You're Italian?"

...Once. I was a lot of things, once. Now I'm an annoyed locket trying to get some dimwit Canadian to man up and push off. Honestly, ten feet won't kill you.

"Yeah, but it might break a limb!"

Lovino sighed. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.

Then, Matthew slipped. Before he could even react, he felt a cold, transparent hand on his own move a few inches, until the hand slipped over the edge along with it's master. He opened his mouth to scream as he fell, but was stopped by that same ghostly hand over his mouth. Then he felt another one wrap around his waist and spin them around, so that whatever was behind him was now in front of him. Protecting him. When they hit the floor, Matthew felt himself land, not on hard wood floor, but on a body. A cold, transparent, ghostly body, but a body none the less.

Matthew froze when the body started to move, pushing him off and uttering multiple curse words, both in English and rapid fire Italian.

Sciochezze! That hurt like hell! Haha, oh the irony!

Matthew sat up and looked on in fear at the light, see-through body (or soul) of a laughing, red-headed Italian boy. Matthew was used to the voices in his head, as he often heard them while in Euphoria. What he wasn't used to was the souls that owned them. Therefore, he did what any rational person would have done after seeing their first spirit.

He screamed. And screamed.

Lovino immediately whipped his head around to stare at the boy, quickly turning around and waving his arms in an 'x' position, telling him to knock it off (among many curse words). When the screaming didn't stop, Lovino scowled and pushed his hand up against his mouth.

Calm the crap down, Matthew! God!

Matthew's were eyes were quickly growing to ecliptic proportions and his muffled screams slowly died, as did his struggles against the hands around his mouth. Lovino, thinking that the frantic Canadian had relaxed, let him go. Quickly, Matthew pushed his way away from Lovino, who looked half curious and half hurt.

"H-how did you know m-my n-n-name?"

Lovino scoffed.

Matt, I know more about you than you do. That black stuff you felt from before? Kid, you're lookin' at it! Well, kinda.

Matthew slowly began relaxing. He scurried closer to the Italian ghost sitting crisscross on his floor. "Kinda?"

Yeah, well...The black from before was really my crown form, seeping into you and, well, getting used to you. That jerk wad from before- Gilbert? -he allowed me to, considering I'll probably be spending the rest of your life with you. And your kids. And your kids' kids. Anyway, since my form, or my resident "body" if you prefer, is now inside of that handy little locket he gave you, the only way to move or anything is to detach my soul from it. Ergo, I sit before you. The freak from before put a limit to my soul movement communications, like hitting, killing, and mind control are out of the picture, but I can talk and move about as long as I'm not too far from my form.

"O...kay? But, can anyone see you? Or hear you? And why can I feel you, touch you even, if you're only a soul?"

Lovino smirked. That's just the thing, you shouldn't be able to see me or touch me. It's just...not possible. And as for eavesdroppers...I guess you haven't really noticed.

"N-noticed what?"

I haven't been speaking.

Then it hit Matthew. Lovino's lips hadn't moved. Since he had begun speaking, never once had he really said anything. It had all been mental. Well, at least on Lovino's end.

"You've been communicating via thought?"

Lovino's smirk widened. Bingo! You know, maybe not all humans are imbeciles.

Matthew laughed at this, but played along. He puffed his chest out, put his hands on his hips (which was slightly awkward, considering that both boys were still sitting), and said in a deep voice, "Did you ever doubt me?" before letting out all the breath in his lungs and slumping back down.

Lovino laughed with him. Oh, how could I? With your muscle-less, bony body and girlish features...No, I could never doubt you. Just all the rest of humanity. But you! You're special...Special ED, that is.

Matthew suddenly remembered the whole thought thing.

"So if I can hear your thoughts-"

Actually, they're being transmitted to you. I'm sending you thoughts.

"Alright, fine, fine. But can you hear my thoughts- Or, can I send them to you?"

Suddenly Lovino looked meek, rubbing at his neck with his hand. See, that's the problem with this whole stupid transmission thing. I can't even touch your thoughts without my form.

"That sucks."

No, he sucks.

"Who?"

Gilbert! Him and his brother! Those darn potato-eaters! And his father...

"Who are they?"

Lovino gave me a confused look. You didn't know?

"Know what?"

Lovino growled lightly. That JERK! Asking something like this of a kid like you...And without even explaining... Ooo, he is gonna GET IT when I find him!

When I sent him a puzzled look, Lovino smiled sadly before crawling over to me and folding my hands in his.

Matthew...I am beyond sorry for that scossa just dumping this on you. But...I'm not just some dark mist filling your locket. Gilbert's father...is the devil. He's the ruler of high hell, or Hades as we call it, and Gilbert and his younger brother, Ludwig, are his sons. Two weeks ago, his father, Brom, chose Ludwig as his successor. Gilbert wasn't so happy about that. So, he decided to take Brom's crown, and hide it somewhere on Earth.

And that's a big deal.

'Cause the devil's crown isn't just some special hat he wears- it contains the power to persuade human souls to do evil. My brother, Feliciano, is the fate's crown, or as you call him, God. With no competition, my brother will persuade every soul on earth to evil. No one will commit sins! Gilbert, being the idiot he is, is probably walking around, striving off his crime and waving it in people's faces like it's a medal. He's such a gloat! Anyway, who knows how long it will be before Gilbert or his father get sent back here to take me back to that hell-hole {A/N: haha, I made a pun :P}. Most likely, you'll be executed as well. I'm so sorry.

Matthew stared, "I-I'm gonna die?"

(A/N): I! LOVE! THIS! STORY! I'm serious, this story is my baby. My third actually. My second is almost finished (for those of you who like Vinland stories, you're gonna love this one) and my other one hasn't even been started :( I'M A NEGLECTANT PARENT DX Lawlz, just kidding, I have no children. Anyway, I've been pregnant with this story for a long time, and its thanks to some help, support, and chastising from the AMAZING Misterfleas, that this was born :) She also helped me with the last chapter of 'Of Pancakes and Ringtones' (I'm so sorry for not mentioning this~) is helping me with my Vinland baby and many others. YOU GO MISTERFLEAS! Oh, and Germania's name is one i randomly found on some baby name site. Its a different form of Bram which means "Raven" in old German (along with something about brusselsprouts, but thats beside the point). And the raven is said to symbolize death and demolition. If you've got a better name, tell me 'bout it, mkay? :3

*Translations:

Schlaf gut, mein dunkler kleiner Engel: Sleep well, my dark little angel

scossa: Jerk

Sciochezze: crap (Sowwy, I'm not allowed to curse!)

You have all been accused of Reading, which is punishable by FanFiction law with at least ONE review! I will reply to all reviews with glee~

I wish you all fun, friends, and plenty of food~!

Sarcastically, Pans