Note: This fanfic closely follows the plot of the HetaOni game, except that there WILL be differences between the game and the events going on in this fanfic.

EDIT (25.05.2014): I'm re-editing my chapters – the nations will call each other by how they'd call them in their respective languages (I cheated by using google translate) and generally cleaning up spelling and grammar errors, but let me know if I made any mistakes in comments or in a pm. Also, many thanks for midnightlily456 for inspiring me to change the title of this story to NordicOni.

Five figures walked out together from the lush forest surrounding a large mansion. A young man wearing a long black coat excitedly ran towards the building and spun to face his companions. "Here we are! The place I was talking about!" Denmark declared and pointed to the large structure. "Let's go inside already!"

"I don't know… it looks so spooky…" Fin gulped and stepped back subconsciously, only to have Sweden rest his hand on his shoulder. He only meant it to be reassuring, but it frightened the Finn and he squealed, jumping back, but tried to relax and laughed nervously. "S-Sorry! I was so caught up in my mind! Heh…" Sweden just gave him his usual stoic expression and turned away.

Iceland huffed. "Is that it? Just an old house in the middle of nowhere? What a waste of 3 hours."

Norway glanced up, taking in the sight of the pale-coated building and the dark frames of the blurred windows. He blinked and looked at the front door, which rattled when a sudden gust of wind blew against the mansion.

"Let's go in!" Denmark yelled and ran up to the door and turned the knob, pushing the door open easily and it creaked loudly. His black boots thudded the wooden floorboards as he charged inside and he pirouetted around, taking in the blank surroundings. "Come on!"

Reluctantly, the other Nordics followed him inside…

The main hall was oddly clean and there was very little furniture to go around. To their left is a corridor and on their right is another corridor, but directly head on the left is another corridor with a set of wide stairs besides it leading up to the second floor. The place looked new, but it has that nostalgic musty smell lingering in the air that you'd find in your grandparent's house. Iceland kept glancing about, but noticed a frown on Norway's face like he was trying to remember something.

"Okay, we looked, now let's get out of here!" Iceland said impatiently.

Smash!

Everyone gasped (Finland unexpectedly clung onto Sweden's jacket sleeve and Denmark squeaked and hid behind Norway) and turned sharply towards the east-facing corridor, but they could see nobody.

"Wh-what was that!?" Denmark shrieked. "It has to be a ghost! Just in that horror RPG I played with Estonia about a group of Japanese kids who got trapped in a puzzle-filled mansion along with monsters!"

"No such thing as ghosts, ya idiot," Sweden murmured for the first time since they all arrived at the mansion. "I'll check it out."

"Y-Yeah, good luck getting out alive!" Denmark snapped with a hint of attempted bravery in his voice, but he still crouched behind Norway.

"Nothing's going to happen to Ruotsi!" Finland sighed. "This mansion is abandoned! You even said so…" Sweden just walked into the East corridor and disappeared…

Sweden's boots clunked against the floorboards with a rhythmic beat as his trained ears listened for things that his eyes cannot see. His calm demeanour seemed to have an affect against the eeriness of the cold mansion around him as he felt calm enough to not walk quickly like others would do. But even though he believed the mansion is abandoned, he cannot deny that something strange is going on…

His eyes glanced to his left at a lone door, but the sound of something breaking didn't come from there. It sounded too distant to be behind that door. With that, Sweden carried on walking without stopping until he reached a door and strolled inside, entering a large room. Immediately, he saw some fragments on the floor by the table and his gloved hands lifted them, ignoring the counters by a cupboard full of stale bread and food.

"Sharp. Better not let Finn touch them," he mumbled and pocketed the fragments. "I better get back before Denmark does somethin' stupid…"

There was another door in the room too, but when he tried to open it, all it did was clatter and click. He mentally scolded himself for wasting time on supernatural thoughts and wandered back through the door to exit the room.

As soon as he walked to the main hall, he saw that nobody was around. Sweden frowned and glanced around, thinking that Denmark made the others hide in the doorway to surprise him, but there were no cheers or obnoxious Danish laughs. There wasn't a trace of the other 4 left anywhere.

"Where…" Sweden muttered under his breath and he glanced around again, hoping that it wasn't his already-poor eyesight deteriorating. He could've hit himself when he thought of the front door. "Probably outside…"

His hand reached out and turned the knob—

But it wouldn't move. It's too stiff. Sweden turned it harder, but the material of his glove is just slipping on the brass handle. He pulled away and tugged the glove off, revealing his large calloused hand and he tried again to open the door, but the metal rubbing harshly against his skin was too much and he grunted. The door is locked. Was he locked in while the others are outside?

He was stumped, but more than that he felt trapped.

Finland leaned against the wall, taking in deep breaths and he clutched his shirt with evident panic. He can't even remember why he and his friends suddenly scattered like blind mice away from the main hall, but whatever chased them was frightening…

All sense of direction was hopelessly lost on him. He can't remember which corridor he took off into. He knows it wasn't the one Sweden walked down otherwise he'd be sure the taller male would quickly seek him out by smelling his fear and try to protect him from whatever is scaring him.

He finds himself waiting – for what exactly? – while taking fearful glances up and down the corridor. His legs trembled from clambering up the stairs and another set of stairs during his flight earlier. He tried opening the doors, but these strange ones on the 3rd floor were locked tightly.

"Ruotsi… Tanska… Norja… Islanti…" Uttering those names did nothing to calm his wild heartbeat, but his mind was more eased and he took in a long shuddering breath before sliding down the wall and he sat down, staring at the door which was directly in front of him.

He shut his eyes and tried to remember how he ended up here. He tried the same technique that Japan does to recall memories after a long night out drinking with Greece and France; and imagined that time reversed with him in it like rewinding a video to the part you want to see again. But that part in Finland's mind was severely fuzzy like how a video cassette on a VCR is when a child replayed it again and again. He tried harder to think, rewound time in his mind and he imagined himself standing up again, giving out a long exhale of breath, body shaking from the frantic heartbeat, suddenly running backwards and his hand shakily trying to open the 3rd floor doors, him running backwards down the stairs to the second floor where- THERE! He was with Norway, Iceland AND Denmark at that point! But no… wait! They all split from him in different directions and a tall grey humanoid figure chased after Iceland until they were out of sight—

Finland whimpered and pressed his hand against his forehead as the other pushed him off the ground. His mind reverted back into focusing in the present time as reality took over fiction.

"O-oh, Islanti… I'm so sorry…" he gulped, holding back frightened sobs. His deep breathing eventually turned shallower as his skin paled more. Panic set in and only one phrase flew through his mind. Panic attack. Panic attack. Panic attack.

While his hyperventilation distracted him, a heavy set of footsteps slowly stepped up the stairs and the same terrifying figure that Finland saw earlier stopped in front of him, looking down with huge black eyes that reflected no emotion. Finland slowed down, feeling relief from finally relaxing when he noticed a set of huge stone-grey feet and he glanced up before he froze, letting out a strangled gasp.

Sweden decided to explore the mansion until he believed that the others have stopped laying games by locking him in the house. He may not be a practical joker, but even he secretly relished the idea of the other Nordics panicking when they saw that he hasn't returned to the main hall. He took the corridor directly ahead of him, opposite from the one he left earlier. As he for further he saw a door to his right, but with an experimental twist of the knob the door refused to open. He carried on advancing around the corner until—

He paused and his ability to feel senses all drained from his body.

Standing ahead at the end of the corridor, seeming to face away from him, was a giant humanoid creature that's grey all over and its head is huge.

Sweden reacted by… just staring at it with intense scrutiny. His hands clenched into fists, reminding himself not to say or do anything in the presence of this odd unknown creature.

Suddenly, a door opened in front of it and the monster stumbled forwards, door slamming automatically behind it and leaving an eerie silence in the corridor.

Sweden, without blinking, exhaled a long breath he didn't know (and was grateful as it was proof of life) that he was holding.

"What… the heck was that thing…" he murmured and hesitantly walked towards the door, but his hand trembled. He just turned away, looking back warily. His eyes rested on a door that's just on the left from the mysterious door and he went inside without pausing or considering anything.

It was just a bathroom. There's a toilet, which was thankfully clean, and the sinks and cupboards which are covered in a film of dust. Besides that, there wasn't anything interesting about this room, but despite its simplicity, he couldn't help but feel… safe.

Sweden left (giving the door the monster went through a quick glance) before running down the corridor with urgency that flooded his mind the moment he stepped outside the bathroom.

The main hall was still empty, but he tried the front door again though it doesn't seem to be unlocked, and he looked down, gritting his teeth in frustration and confusion.

Dusty footsteps.

In spite of what the others said earlier, the place isn't completely clean. Sweden could just about make out the dusty footstep prints that his friends left behind when they walked into the mansion.

Wait, footsteps that only lead INTO the mansion?

He frowned and ignored his large footstep imprints on the dusty ground and turned around and made a slow account of when they all walked inside this part of the first floor. Yes, they walked inside, looked around, and scuffed their shoes about, disturbing the dust… Sweden looked down the east-facing corridor that he went down to check out the source of that shattering noise; his footsteps are imprinted on the dusty floor too. The same goes for the corridor that he ran out of.

So if there are only footsteps of his companions leading into the main hall from outside… then that means that they're still inside, and that Thing is wandering around, possibly searching for them with unknown intent.

Heart drumming, the Swede scanned the footsteps carefully and followed them to the stairs, which lead to the second floor. All four footprints of his friends are on the stairs. That's where he shall go now.

Sweden climbed the wide stairs until he reached the second floor, but that was where the trail of footprints ended. He silently cursed and glanced around. Straight to his left were 2 doors, and to his right was a single door on its own. When he turned to his left, he also noticed a long corridor leading besides the stairs towards another set of stairs going up. He guessed that there are more doors on this floor… and his friends could be hiding in them.

Sweden chose to follow his gut feeling and walked straight towards the two doors, choosing the one on the right. Contrary to what he thought before, the door was actually unlocked and he sighed in relief. He steeled his glare, telling himself it's not over until he brings his family back together, and pushed the door wide to reveal a bedroom.

Lying on the ground was a stick with a star attached to the tapered end with spots of blood on it. Sweden's blood froze and he picked it up immediately, pulling off the glove of his free hand with his teeth and the tip of his pale finger touched a spot of blood on the star, only to feel that the liquid is cold. It may be cold, but it doesn't mean it hasn't been recently shed.

"What's Norge's magic wand doin' here?" he murmured to the object. His free hand struggled to fit back in the black glove and he pocketed the item along with the shards of the plate. He hopes that magic wands don't get scratched easily.

Just as he left the room, he noticed the wand began glowing brightly through the pocket's material of his deep navy trenchcoat. Sweden remembered this happening before. Whenever Norway forgets his magic wand, Sweden would use it to guide him to find the Norwegian so he could hand it back… Norway once admitted that the wand is 'alive' in a sense and can only work for one owner, which is the Norwegian himself.

But in this place, Sweden can hardly doubt that anyone could just simply forget anything. He pulled out the object and he could feel the mystical power gently (and invisibly) tugging him towards the door which is on the right when you come up from the stairs. He entered the unlocked room and the first thing that caught his eye was a floor-length curtain in the corner. The wand shivered violently the closer he got and his hand pulled back the curtain quickly, revealing a sad sight in front of him.

The fear-aggressiveness in Norway's widened ocean deep-blue eyes shocked Sweden's soul, but it was the fact that he is curled up on the floor, hugging his knees and fingers clawing at his trousers like how an eagle grasps a dead rabbit.

The smell of blood on his clothes did not go unnoticed.

CHAPTER END.

A/N: In the game, where you make choices, some of them can lead to your death where you least expect it. What I'll do sometimes with every other chapter is write a death scene for whenever a character makes the wrong choice. They'll be BELOW a Chapter End point, so you can choose whether to read them or not. Needless to say, the only warning is that there will DEFINITELY some character deaths. The alternative scenes are not part of the story, but they're there to show what would happen if the characters make the wrong choice.

ALTERNATIVE SCENE (Sweden)

*Sweden decided to explore the mansion until he believed that the others have stopped laying games by locking him in the house. He may not be a practical joker, but even he secretly relished the idea of the other Nordics panicking when they saw that he hasn't returned to the main hall. He took the corridor directly ahead of him, opposite from the one he left earlier. As he for further he saw a door to his right, but with an experimental twist of the knob the door refused to open. He carried on advancing around the corner until—

He paused and his ability to feel senses all drained from his body.

Standing ahead at the end of the corridor, seeming to face away from him, was a giant humanoid creature that's grey all over and its head is huge.

Sweden took in a surprised breath that sounded like a gas pipe hissing, and the thing spun around, revealing it's alien-like face and massive disk-shaped black eyes that shows nothing.

"What the—"

Suddenly the thing charged so fast that Sweden only saw a blur before a heavy force slammed his chest and his blood squirted out from the long gashes that tore through his thick coat and shirt underneath; the strike threw him back and he stumbled, collapsing onto his back and smacking the back of his head. Pain rumbled and blurred his vision and he cried out. Fuelled by adrenaline, he struggled to stand up, but a large hand with sausage-thick fingers wrapped themselves around his strong neck and lifted his body in the air. A copious amount of blood poured from his severe wounds and dripped onto the pure polished floor to form a crimson pond as he kicked out, trying but failing to hit the thing. His voice was trapped in his throat from the increasingly deadly pressure on his neck.

Sweden, without blinking, exhaled a long breath before his eyes glazed over and his glasses slipped from his face, falling to the pool of blood and the lenses cracked, fragments bouncing and smothered in the warm liquid.

Silence.

The muscles in the monster's arm trembled with intense strength before the sharp, crunching snap of a broken spinal cord echoed around the corridor and Berwald Oxenstierna's arms limply fell to his sides like a rag doll without stuffing.