Chapter One: Reset

Warnings: Blood, Violence

-000-

Unknown POV

A final sacrifice. Everyone's happiness lies in my weary hands, and it's time to make things right. It's time to become a final sacrifice. The pain of time weighs heavy; each second is a heartbeat, each hour is torture, and each day is another life lost. The pain of death weighs harder as everything ticks in painful reset. Each mistake echoes when I reflect, but no one will hurt anymore. Giving myself to her will stop everyone's suffering.

"I'm ready." I sigh, looking up to her looming figure as her shadow casts over me. The one entity torturing me these many years cracks a disgusting smile. The bloody pentagram on the ground made by my own hands coats my back. The slice on my hand stings, but that's the least of my pain. "I offer you my life in exchange for their peace." The demon eyeballs me like a platter, excited chuckles escape her lips.

"Ah, such weakness! As expected from my favorite toy. Oh how I'll lavish this!" Like a wolf on its prey, she pounces onto me. I wince, anticipating the worst, as her shadowy form slips into my body. Surging flames light my body as the pentagram casts its eerie glow. Every muscle spasms as I lose control, transferring my entirety to her. Pangs of agony flood my searing limbs every convulsion. The shrieks of pain don't feel like my own despite coming from my mouth. The pain of a thousand broken bones racks my body as hot tears flow down my burning face. My vision blurs as I lose all sensation in my body, feeling a disturbing yet relieving calm. Any attempt to think is blocked by a white wall.My body moves without my input. I can feel myself sit up, but I'm not controlling any of it.

Puppeteering my body, she moves to my room, and turns to my closet. She pulls out a black bodysuit, a black cloak, and a plain white mask. She takes off my clothes and puts the strange outfit on. Looking at my body in the mirror, I can't identify any part of me. She puts on a pair of boots, and unexplainably walks out the door. What is she planning on doing?

"You really can't be that stupid, can you?" she asks. Her words come from my mouth, making the communication feel strange.

"What?" I say in my mind.

"I never promised anything! Why in your goddamn mind did you choose to let me possess you? Your act of stupidity is now my new key into this world." Shit! She… She can't be serious! Was this all really for nothing?!

"You taking my body meant you agreed to my terms! By summoning standards, the demon has to accept the terms!" I scream.

She chuckles. Had I still owned my body, a chill would have went down my spine. "You're so ignorant! Those may be Satan's rules, but not mine. Maybe don't dabble in summoning if you're going to be so idiotically reckless!"

I cry, "I've sacrificed myself to you so many times by offering myself as your plaything! The least you can do is hurt only me! Leave the others alone for once!"

"I don't owe you a damn thing. Besides, I'm in control now. You're absolutely hopeless like this, so while you keep whining about fairness, I'll be working on my mission."

I bang on the walls of my self-built prison, truly helpless to stop her needless killings. It's all starting over. All the suffering will repeat once again… and it's all my fault.

-000-

England's POV

As per usual, I'm stuck attending a meeting that will ultimately be useless. We haven't even started because Canada's late with me, America, France, Russia, China, Germany, Italy, and Japan already being here. It's been fifteen minutes of us sitting around waiting, and he hasn't even texted or called anyone to explain his tardiness. I'd expect such irresponsibility from America maybe, but definitely not Canada.

I check my phone to see if he's said anything, but the only notification I have is from Finland. Shit, it's my turn to watch Sealand, isn't it? Joint custody with the lad was never legally sorted, just quietly agreed upon. I avoid that message, holding it off for after the meeting. Looks like I need to add junk food to my grocery list. A little treat should make the boy forgive me for forgetting. As for Finland and Sweden, they'll just have to accept that the extra meetings have made me busy.

I look up from my phone and see that France is seated right across from me. When he notices I'm looking at him, he makes stupid kissy faces. I return with a gagging motion. We never solidified any sort of relationship, only coming together to raise America and Canada. Nothing ever comes out of the flirting really; it's no different than banter.

Tired of waiting, Germany states, "Let's go ahead and start the meeting. Someone else can catch Canada up whenever he gets here."

Before we can actually start, the door slams open behind me. I turn to see a strange man at the door wearing a long robe and a mask over his face. With gloved hands, he clenches a metal bat. Without hesitation, America pulls out a gun and shouts, "Identify yourself before I call security!"

The person doesn't speak, darting straight for America. America fires several times and my ears ring painfully at the sound of the shots. Despite being aimed directly at him, the bullets ricochet and pierce through the wall. The masked man swings a blow straight to America's head with a crack on impact. He falls limp and blood pools from his temples. In the shock of it all, I freeze.

Italy screams while Germany rushes to Italy's side protectively, but nothing can actually be done to protect any of us from the stranger. We only carry our guns with us and he's invincible to bullets. I don't want to go down without a fight, but is there any fight to be had?

I ran to hide under the table, luckily unnoticed. I must look like a coward, but it was the first thing I could think to do. From under the table, I saw the stranger continue with his murderous rage. France, China, Japan, and Russia dropped like flies with the sharp crunch of bones surrounding me. Their blood poured out of their heads and stained the carpet in crimson. The metallic, sickening smell flooded my nostrils. Every breath was filled with the putrid fragrance. Their bodies looked impossibly pale. He… he killed them! Oh god, he killed them!

This stranger is murdering us and all I can do is hide. Even though countries can't properly die like humans unless our bodies are completely destroyed, the fear of the situation is still present. While our bodies recover, he could do anything to us and we'd be completely helpless.

I feel frozen, helplessly sitting under the table as the unknown person walks up to Germany and Italy. Germany pins the man down and tries to punch him, but the stranger is left unharmed. The madman manages to escape Germany's grasp and instead gets Germany kneeling down.

"Wh-what the hell?" Germany sputters out. The man whispered into Germany's ear. Germany's eyes widened. "Why can't I move?!" he yelled.

"I suppose now would be a good time to mention I'm not human. I have abilities far beyond your own."

Germany stared straight into Italy's eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but a loud crack came forth instead and the German's head was twisted at an unnatural angle.

Italy's eyes widen, tears falling as the terror sets in. He collapses into himself trembling while his best friend falls to the ground lifelessly.

"Why would you do th-this?" he stuttered.

"I have a special project of mine that needs strong bodies such as those of nations. I thank you for your donation to the cause."

"But-!" Italy started, but was silenced by the end of the bat crunching down on his head.

Now it was just him and me.

He turned towards me, the plastic of the mask holding no emotion as he stared. With an incredible amount of force, he yanks me out from under the table and holds me by the collar. He turns swiftly and slams me into the wall.

"Did you really think you could hide from me, England?" he tells me. His voice was void of emotion. Then, it suddenly changes into rage. "You've always mistreated me! You never thought of me as an equal, have you?!" he screams. He whips out his bat and starts to swing blindly at me. He strikes my shin and probably breaks it. I let out a scream as he continues swinging everywhere but my head. As he swings at my ribs, the helpless screams only worsen with my throat going hoarse.

The pain is overwhelming, but I'm in too much agony to move away or defend myself. Each deliberate, torturous swing fails to kill me or knock me out. He moves on to smashing the end of the bat to my arms and legs, breaking bones with each strike.

"I bet you're ready for me to give you mercy," he mutters to me.

"What... did I do… to deserve this?" I barely manage to speak. It comes out as a whisper almost inaudible. A bit of blood dribbles out of my mouth.

"What a boring thing to say. Honestly, you're not going to be given any mercy for a long while. I'd rather you suffer for how you've treated me," he growls without a single bit of humanity. He picks me up and sets my weak body on the meeting table. "Now that you can't move on your own without feeling excruciating pain, I'd like to have some fun."

The stranger gets on top of the table with me. He pulls out a knife and cuts off my shirt straight down the middle. I try to lift my arm to push him away, but instead I end up hurting myself worse. I cry in pain, causing him to chuckle

"You can't escape from me. It won't be so bad so just relax. I'm only going to poke around at your organs a bit!"

"N…no. D…Don't touch me…please," I beg.

"Your voice is getting on my nerves. If you won't talk properly, don't talk at all." After he says that, he yanks my tongue out of my mouth. In one clean slice with his knife, my tongue is pulled from my mouth.

"There, that's better. Now, where should I start?" I didn't answer. Blood was pooling in my mouth and it felt like I'd drown in it.

He makes a sloppy incision from the top of my neck down to my navel. Dark spots fill my vision around the edges as I struggle to breathe from the blood pooling in my mouth. I try to gasp for air, but instead feel blood enter my lungs. Labored coughs serve as a weak attempt by my body to survive. No matter how hard I cough, the pooling keeps trickling into my airways. Perhaps this is for the best. He can't torture me while I'm dead. Of course, I'll regenerate afterwards and I'll be at his mercy, but for now I can rest.

My vision grows dark as the spots claim me. My lungs hurt immensely from being deprived from oxygen, but it'll be over soon. Eventually, I can feel my body finally dying with a feeling of immense exhaustion. I lay down on the table and allow myself to relax my tired body. Who knows what the man plans to do with us. Considering what he just did to me, there will probably be torture. Right now that doesn't matter. My body goes limp as my mind fades into the calming void of death.

-000-

AN: I'm rewriting Masks Dyed Red because the older bits make me cringe. I started this in middle school, but still feel too attached to get rid of it entirely. I want to tell an elaborate story now that I actually have a plan for how this should end unlike when I started writing it like three years ago. If you've already been a reader of the story, I would recommend rereading the new chapters as I add them since I want to change some previous elements of the original that didn't sit well upon rereading it myself. I know hetalia is basically dead, but hopefully some of you out there will find this and enjoy it. Also, I'm contemplating whether I should move to AO3 since this site's going downhill with all the sketchy ads. Please let me know what you think of it; it's you guys that motivate me the most.