"Lukas says you killed him."

Emil watches the way Matthias freezes up, the man's hand stopping and his shoulders tensing (whether in surprise or conviction, the boy doesn't know). After a tense second, Matthias unfreezes. He sets the spoon he's using aside and turns from the stove to face Emil. "Who's Lukas?" He asks.

"My other brother. He says you killed him." Emil replies, studying Matthias carefully. He doesn't look guilty, the boy thinks. Matthias runs a hand through his wild hair. His words are steady, if spoken with a hint of exasperation.

"Look Emmy, I'm your brother; you don't have any others, dead or alive. Aren't ya old enough t' know the difference between real and imaginary?" Emil looks from Matthias to the window where Lukas is waiting. Through the glass he can see his other brother mouth two words. Matthias follows Emil's gaze, trying to figure out what he's looking at. Emil begins to back away, Lukas's words echoing in his mind.

"He's lying."

. . .

. . .

"So I figured, why haunt my murderer when I can haunt someone who can help get them caught?" Emil said, shrugging his misty shoulders. Matthias stared at the ghost, trying to ignore the fact that he had a point.

. . .

. . .

The car slows and stops by the side of the road. Finally, Tino thinks, rubbing his sore thumb. He trots up to the driver's window, a friendly smile spreading across his plump face. The window rolls down. "Oh thank you much, you're the first person who's stopped, not many people pick up hitchhikers nowadays, really, thank y-" Tino's babbling is cut off by a glare and deep, stern voice.

"Where ya headed." The Finn tries not to flinch. He's certainly not one to mince words.

"The next town over. My uncle lives there, but I didn't have money for the bus- oh! I can pay you once we get there, I promise, and I won't be a bother, just-" Tino is once again interrupted. "Get in." Nodding, he pulls open the back door and hops in.

The car is silent for several minutes. A gruff "Yer name?" breaks it. Tino answers, and asks the same of the driver. "Berwald." "Berwald what?" "Oxenstierna." "Where are you from?" "Where 're you from?" And so they get to know each other. At first the questions are stiff, but soon Tino is babbling again. He learns Berwald is on his way home from visiting a friend, he lives alone and understands what having a super annoying family member is like. Berwald learns Tino's uncle isn't expecting him, his brother won't miss him for a few days, and that his father was an expert gunman who taught Tino everything he knew. The sun is setting outside the car, and the road between the trees is growing dim. The car begins to slow.

"And so he says, why do you always carry that thing around with you, and I said-" Tino is still talking; Berwald tunes him out as he maneuvers the car to the side of the road. The sound of rocks and sticks breaking under tires masks the sounds of a seat belt being released and a zipper opening.

The car stops. "Hey, why'd we stop? Berwald?" The tall blonde unbuckles his seat belt, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "Berwald? Do you need to pee or something? You should have said so, this would be so less messy without that spilling out your bladder when I shoot-" As Tino speaks, Berwald turns around and points a gun at his passenger, a terrifying smile making its way across his face. "Sit still, and this won't h'rt too b'dly..."

They both stop. "Wait, what?" "Huh?!" There's a gun pointed at Berwald's face. And there's a gun aimed at Tino's chest. They both stare at each other in shock, grins of murderous intent vanishing from their faces. The two highway serial killers examine each other in a new light.

. . .

. . .

The clock reads 2:07 am.

It barely registers in Matthias's mind; he's too busy trying to break the creature's choke-hold. He claws desperately, struggling to relieve the pressure on his throat. Its breath billows in his face, the stench heavy with death and rot. Everything is going black around the edges of his vision. The monster leans down and snarls in his ear, its voice hissing and growling and unintelligible. Matthias's struggles lessen, his body succumbing to the lack of oxygen. He can't breathe, he's gonna die-

Matthias sits up with a gasp. He's panting and covered in sweat. He touches a hand to his throat, taking a long, shaky breath. "Just a dream," he whispers, "It was just a dream." More like a nightmare. Calming down some, he takes a look around his room. It's dark, but there's still enough moonlight to see by. Everything is in place, unlike his nightmare, where the closet door was wide open and things were knocked off his desk and scattered over the floor. Matthias relaxes. There was nothing to be scared of.

The closet door creaks. Its knob turns.

The clock reads 2:06 am.

. . .

. . .

He was banging on the wall again.

The first time Emil had done that, it had scared the crap out of Matthias. He had already been on edge enough (keeping secrets was rather draining), and had definitely not been expecting it. The second and third times were much the same. The fourth, he almost felt used to it. The sounds from the wall came often enough that having company over was a big no, not that Matthias was stupid enough to risk having Lukas or anyone in his apartment so soon.

Of course, not inviting anyone also brought suspicion; Matthias was currently cursing the open, friendly persona he'd built around his friends - it made it that much harder to close himself off and brood over his dilemma. It was also the reason he'd let Lukas into his apartment despite repeatedly telling himself not to. But here Matthias was, opening the door, and here was Lukas, entering without even glancing at Matthias's welcoming smile (and Matthias had to forgive that; the poor guy had a lot of things on his mind).

And, of course, there was Emil, pounding away at the walls.

Lukas ignored it at first, thankfully. He sat on the couch rubbing his temples while Matthias made them both some tea. The shorter man sighed as Matthias set two steaming cups on the coffee table in front of him.

"Thanks." Said Lukas, taking one. "I'm not staying long though."

"I know." Matthias said. "But you look like you need it."

Lukas ran a hand through his disheveled hair. The circles under his eyes looked darker than ever. "That bad, huh?" He took a sip of his tea. Matthias didn't reply, and they lapsed into silence. Emil's thumps on the wall, at first even and steady, became erratic, as if he were putting as much force as he could behind each blow. After a minute of staring silently into his cup, Lukas spoke.

"I just don't know where he could be." He finally looked up, his eyebrows pinching together in annoyance. "And what the hell is that sound?"

Matthias jumped to respond. "That's, um, the neighbor."

Lukas quirked an eyebrow, disbelieving and irritated. An obvious sign of how tired he was; Matthias had never seen this much emotion slip on Lukas's face in one sitting before.

"Your neighbor bangs on your wall for ten minutes straight?" Matthias internally winced. He really should have come up with a better excuse. He scrambled to respond.

"Er, yeah. My new neighbor, he's uh, he's not exactly all there?" Matthias wanted to smack himself for the way his answer had twisted into a question. Why was he such a terrible liar?

Thankfully, Lukas didn't seem to notice. He waved off the matter with a shake of his head, took one last sip of the tea he'd hardly touched, and stood up. Matthias jumped up to walk him to the door. In the hallway they stopped. Behind him, Matthias could hear the pounding getting even more frantic.

"You could go ask him to stop." Lukas said. Matthias rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah I guess I could..."

Lukas turned and started to walk away. Before he was too far away, Matthias blurted, "Lukas." The man in question stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I-I know you'll find him." Lukas's head tilted, considering. Then with a sad, faint, blink-and-you-miss-it smile, he nodded, and continued to the stairs. He was barely out of sight before Matthias was spinning back into his apartment, slamming the door and slumping against it. That was close. Too close. He'd almost told Lukas his secret, had almost given it all away. He couldn't tell anyone what had happened. What he'd done.

Matthias crouched, back against the door, gripping his hair tight enough to hurt. His pulse pounded. This just wasn't fair. It wasn't like he'd meant to do it! And now he was lying to his closest friends. If he didn't, if he told them the truth, they wouldn't be his friends anymore! As he sat there cursing himself and his existence, Matthias became aware that the blood thudding through his head wasn't the only sound he could hear. Thump. Thump-thump.

And then Matthias was indescribably angry. He leaped up and marched to the wall from which the sound emitted. He knew whose fault it was, who'd caused this mess. Matthias drew back and gave the wall a solid kick. "Shut. Up!" He roared.

Emil stopped. In the pause that followed, the only sound was Matthias's ragged breathing. He leaned his head against the cool wall, adrenaline steadily draining. His lips pressed tightly in a frown. Blowing up at the wall had been rash; Matthias had no idea how he'd managed to keep Emil's whereabouts secret this long. Thank whatever deity was up there that he didn't have any neighbors on this floor.

Matthias sat down, leaning against the solid surface behind him. If Lukas were to find out, he'd never forgive Matthias. Matthias's friend had been running himself into the ground looking for his brother. If he were to find out Emil had been here all along... Matthias didn't like to think about that.

Emil started hitting the wall again. Matthias sighed as he stood up, giving the wall a half-hearted punch. Thump. Thump-thump. It really made him wonder how Emil was doing that. Especially considering how Matthias had cut him up before putting him in there.

. . .

. . .

Emil wakens as the bed behind him dips, announcing the arrival of another body. The room is dark except for the streetlight shining through the open window. Emil is pretty sure he closed it before going to sleep. He tries not to shiver as a cold nose pokes the back of his neck.

"Lukas." He greets calmly, quietly. When Lukas doesn't make any effort to reply, Emil slowly turns to lay facing his brother. He hopes Lukas doesn't notice the extra space he puts between them with the movement. His elder brother is really starting to stink.

"You know you're not supposed to be here." Emil whispers. Lukas's glassy eyes are indigo in the light of the streetlamp, his hair as silver as Emil's is in the daylight. If it weren't for the chill of the room outside his blankets, and the fact that this wasn't Lukas's first visit, Emil would think the whole scenario was a dream.

Lukas slowly reaches out. He runs his fingertips down the side of Emil's face. Emil tries not to jerk back; his brother's fingers are ice cold. The touch pulls Emil out of his half-asleep daze and into reality. He grasps his brother's freezing hand, holding it between them. Lukas stares at their connected hands, unblinking.

"Lukas." Emil says gently. Slowly, Lukas's eyes travel up to meet his. Emil's brother seems more and more sluggish every time he visits.

"You've got to go back. They'll miss you in the morning." Lukas stares for a moment before shaking his head. No. Lukas hadn't spoken a word since two visits ago. Emil tries not to think about why. Emil tightens his grip on his brother's hand, shifting forward to touch his forehead to Lukas's. The smell is almost overwhelming. Emil ignores it.

"You need to go back. They have people there who can help. They can find him, and help you move on afterwards. But you need to be there for that. Okay?" Lukas's dead stare is unblinking and unnerving, especially this close. Emil almost thinks his brother has checked out when Lukas squeezes his hand, their noses brushing as he gives the minutest of nods. Okay. Emil squeezes his hand in return. When he releases it, Lukas lets him go, and Emil leaves the bed to get dressed.

Emil finishes pulling his boots over his thick socks and takes a coat from his closet. It's long and light gray. He wraps it around Lukas's bare shoulders. Lukas tugs at it, buttoning it with fumbling fingers once he's satisfied. He doesn't bother with shoes. The coat is enough of a precaution should anyone else be out this late to see. They leave the way Lukas came in: through the window, down the fire escape.

The streets are empty, as usual. Emil avoids the streetlights anyway; there's no use in testing their luck. The pair crosses the street to stay out of the bright rings of light. It's hard to dodge the icy patches in the dark, however. Emil nearly slips three times before they arrive at their destination.

It's piece of cake to sneak past the main entrance. No one notices them as they slip past the door reserved for specialized personnel. As Emil works a lock further down the corridor, he can't help but think of a phrase he heard once: It gets easier with practice. How true, he reflects, leading the way past the door, down the cold hallway. Every time Emil has to bring Lukas back to the morgue, he gets better and faster.

The grey coat is draped over one arm as Emil closes the body bag and pushes the locker shut. He wonders when Lukas's next visit will be. Hopefully he'll stop dropping by once his murderer is caught.

. . .

. . .

Knock knock.

Tino jumped when he heard the sound. It was dark outside the window of his room, the crescent moon doing little to nothing to illuminate the night. The clock at the bottom of his screen stated midnight had come and gone. Tino frowned as he spun around in his desk chair. None of his family should be up at this hour.

He blinked several times on the way to the door, struggling to adjust to the dim light of his room after the glare of the computer screen. He passed his dresser, dropping the textbook he'd forgotten to set down on it. The new mirror he'd acquired after the last one shattered reflected the dark of his room eerily from its place over the dresser. Tino resolved not to look at it with the lights out; he'd freak himself out, he knew. Tino pulled open the door, expecting to find his mother, or heck, even his sister on the other side, there to tell him to go to sleep.

No one was there. Tino rubbed at his tired eyes. He leaned out, peering down the hall. The lights of his family's rooms were out. The house was silent. He backed into his room, closing the door lightly behind him. "Okay." Tino whispered to himself. "You definitely need to go to sleep now." He'd never been tired enough to imagine things that weren't there before. The paper could wait. He walked back to his desk to close the laptop.

Knock knock.

Tino whipped around, drowsiness forgotten. That was not his imagination. That was not his tiredness. That was inside his room.

Tino scanned the room, back against the edge of his desk and hand groping behind him for anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed around a lamp, and he yanked it forward to wield in front of him. After a second's thought, he flipped it on (it was still plugged in, and might as well see who he was fighting, right?)

Golden light spilled from the bulb, illuminating the room. It was empty. Tino blinked at the sudden brightness, peering at the room around the spots in his eyes. No intruder jumped out (though why an intruder would knock, he had no idea). Tino's eyes darted about the room. He crouched to peek under his bed. Nothing.

Knock. Knock. With dawning horror, his gaze shifted to the mirror. Just in time to see the pale white hand on the other side rap against the glass once more.

Most of these, if not all, were based on various two-sentence horror stories. They belong to their respective owners, and I'm pretty sure we all know who owns Hetalia (it definitely isn't me). These were pretty fun to write; I might do another one some other time with more of Norway and Sweden, considering they didn't get very much screen-time here.

I'll probably notice every mistake I made as soon as this is published, but if you spot anything blatant, feel free to point it out. Reviews are much appreciated, but if you're too lazy to, I understand ;)