Heyyyy there evrey body! next chapy is out and you get to find out what happens! This chapter is probably the reason this story is rated T. Losta blood violence and gore that i'm describing. don't like, don't read. You can also see bits of Russia/America/Prussia in here. and just so i can clear something up, Alfred is the Uke of the group. hehe.

also other yaoi in this and 'character' deaths.

please tell me if anything confuses you!

Warning:Death, yoai, violence, descriptive gore, 'character' deaths.

Disclaimer:i own nothing! if i did. Alfred would be placed in some pretty traumatizing situations.

Alfred:..you're sick. ya know that?

Skullmate: pssh! whatever, your the one that has to live through all my sick and twisted mind stories!

Alfred:...-runs and hides behind Ivan and Gilbert-

A gray fog spread through out the room, effectively blocking most light from the windows. While the fog was thinnest around the students and nations, the closer it got to the walls, the darker it became. Giving the room an almost never ending look. It was becoming increasingly cold.

Harry was confused. What was happening? He knew for a fact that Boggarts didn't have this kind of power; Hermione had been talking non-stop about when they were preparing to leave the classroom. Before all this happened.

"Hermione...what.." He found himself unable to even finish a sentence

"I-I don't..I d-don't know..." She stuttered, voice shaking slightly. Something about this seemed terribly, terribly wrong. Her blond friends last fear had made her heart ache and wondered; what could be happening now?

Figures slowly began appearing in the darkness, littering the floor of the class room. There were many of them and as they became clearer to children present, they gasped, a couple to the floor, some shouted or screamed, some one lost their lunch.

The floor was riddled with people. All dead, and grotesquely positioned. Blood stained the floor and the air reeked with it. Some were missing body parts, others looking like they had been through a meat grinder or used as a pin cushion.

The golden trio stumbled back from the body at their feet, almost unrecognizable as a human being. Blood pooled at their feet. Hermione covered her mouth and started shaking, tears gathering in her eyes. It was disgusting. She turned her eyes to the transfer students, who seemed perturbed, but otherwise unaffected; besides Feliciano, who was clinging to Ludwig and crying.

The rest of them were staring at the scene before them. She too, looked towards Alfred, who was paling rapidly, as bodies gathered near the wardrobe.

The bodies closer to Alfred prickled something in her mind. As they became better defined, she realized why. It was the transfer students-Alfred's friends- it was their bodies that littered the floor. But even in this condition, she could tell they looked different; older. They were also dressed differently. Many of them were in military uniforms and looked at least five or more years older than the living, breathing ones who were also witnessing this scene. Why are they older? She wondered, disturbed, but also thoroughly confused.

Hermione wasn't the only one to notice the identities of the corpses. Gilbert was disgusted, to say the least, as he watched his bruders dead body appear at his feet, 'Ludwig's' eyes wide in disbelief and blood still spilling from his mouth, body like Swiss cheese in the fact that it was filled with so many gunshots. Gilbert held a hand over his mouth. He couldn't stand to see his brother like this.

He looked frantically for his real brother, praying-please god, say this didn't really happen!- and spotted him, hugging north Italy to his side and staring wide eyed and slightly green faced at that same boys dead body at his feet, chest ripped open and heart hanging from the bloody cavity. The real Feliciano was bawling his eyes out and hiding his face in Germany's robes. Japan refused to even look at it, instead holding his robe sleeve over the lower half of his facing and staring worriedly at America.

Gilbert too, turned his attention to the other. This wasn't just some fear of the other countries dieing. There was no way. So what was it?

Russia was doing his best to ignore his sisters bodies, their faces scratched into oblivion was all he had seen before refusing to look at what had happened to the rest of their bodies. He stared at Alfred, who was looking around at the bodies, not even noticing the real people standing a small distance from him. The boy was hyperventilating as he reached down to gently shake the body of Lichtenstein, Who was reaching out for Vash in her time of death, the blood on her face being interrupted by two tracts where her tears had streaked down her face.

Switzerland himself was right next to Russia, and the reason Ivan couldn't help the blond Gryffindor. Vash had obviously been trying to stand when it happened, he was actually half way onto his feet when the was hit by the spear, which entered through his neck and exited through his side and straight into Ivan's robes and pant leg, so he was having a hard time moving and was rather irritated that Switzerland's body couldn't have chosen some other place to be impaled and die.

Suddenly, the atmosphere seemed to become even heavier,(a hard feat) as the last body appeared. Even Alfred could feel it. He turned from Lilli and towards the wardrobe where a smokey, humanesque figure was holding down some one that was definitely not dead. Two some ones actually. One of them, a red eyed silver haired man was silently cussing the figure out. This person could only be Gilbert.

His blue uniform was covered in red, one leg missing and his left eye hanging out of it's socket. The shadowy figure had the Prussian held up by his shirt collar, a good couple of feet off the ground. The other figure was being held down by a foot placed heavily on his chest, probably breaking his ribs. It was Russia.

Ivan didn't seem too horribly injured, but the blood that splashed off of Gilbert and onto him made it hard to tell. He said something that they couldn't hear, and it sent the captive Prussia into a frenzy, mouth moving a mile a minute and trying to smash the smokey figure across the face.

For a moment, the real Prussia felt pride bubble in his chest, even the fake him was fighting to the last! Or at least, he was, until the figure threw him into the wall parallel and a loud snap echoed through the room. Doppelganger Prussia moved no more.

'Ivan' reached for his fallen comrade, crying out, before clenching his hand in a fish and shouting something at his captor, his pain filled face jolting something in both the real Alfred and Gilbert's hearts.

The figure leaned over and picked something up, if you knew who Ivan really was, you would see it was his beloved faucet pipe; if not, it was just a pipe.

The figure twirled it in his hands for a moment as if contemplating how to kill the other, before gripping the pipe by its curved top and raising it as high as it could.

Ivan seemed to be screaming something at it now, a twisted look of anger and bottomless betrayal etched into his face. It made Alfred's stomach drop. He didn't want to watch this anymore, but couldn't seem to move his eyes anywhere else. Please, He thought, no more oh god, no more! Stop it! Don't do this!

Every one watched in horror as the pipe was brought downwards with enough force to go into Ivan's mouth and straight through the back of his neck, through his spine and out the other side. As his body convulsed in death the smoke around the other figure finally became clear. An old brown jacket with with a blood spattered '50' on the back. Blond hair and tan slacks were clear from the back.

The nations paled as they immediately recognized who it was.

Alfred is afraid of killing us? The real Ivan wondered, frowning. Now why would he do that?

As the other Ivan stopped convulsing-an expression of betrayal and hurt on what was left of his face- 'Alfred' turned, and looked at occupants of the room, smirking at them, before zeroing in on The real America; who had turned an impossible shade of white.

The fake America was older, 19 or so; and as he glided towards the boy, an insane yet calm and bloodthirsty smile gracing his blood stained features, he started changing.

He grew taller, a good three or four inches, his hair became slightly wilder and Nantucket seemed to wilt as his hair turned black. His skin peeled away to reveal a new layer of gray skin, his eyes turning a terrifying and endless shade of black. The bomber jacket ripped itself to tatters, now barely hanging onto his body, the rest of his clothes turned black as well, infact, the only real color on his body seemed to come from the blood he was splattered with, standing out in an almost neon shade. The smell of decay filled the room.

The real Alfred stumbled back, eyes wide in fear, and almost fell over, but was caught by the other, who gently pulled him back up, with an iron grip on his arms. Alfred winced.

He recognized this person easily, not as himself, but as something that lurked in the back of his mind and his heart. It terrified him when he dreamed, and now in real life, this thing that referred to itself as 'Big Brother'...well, Alfred could barely breath. Especially as the smell of death and decay reached his nose.

Big Brother adjusted his grip on the boy in front of him and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

As the nations watched this, Alfred began trembling, wide eyes staring into the space in front of him as the other continued whispering.

"-ould finish it. Big brother could make all your problems go away. No more stress and worrying. And certainly no more situations like this that make you seem so...vulnerable. Although, it is rather cute." He chuckled, nuzzling gently into Alfred's neck before nipping it. Alfred winced and arched his back, trying to escape the others grasp.

This however, only make the other bite harder, razor like teeth digging into his skin. America struggled harder, when a small voice in the space of his mind the other usually occupied piped up "The more you struggle, the harder I'll bite." It said, Big Brother bit harder to make his point, nails digging into his arm.

Alfred hissed in pain and stilled, still trembling slightly.

"There. That wasn't so hard was it?" The other asked, releasing his neck and smiling at him, Alfred's blood dripping from his mouth.

The blond closed his eyes and desperately wished this was all some horrible nightmare he would wake up from, Because the man in front of him couldn't, would never be real, he-

"This is no nightmare little one. And you better damn well know I'm real." Big Brother hissed, reading the others thoughts. "Now look at me." Alfred refused. "Look at me dammit!" He hissed again, angrily.

Alfred's eyes snapped open and he stifled a scream seeing those angered black orbs barely inches from his own. Staring into those eyes, he saw anger, hate, lust and the death of every single nation that littered the floor. He felt the giddy happiness and joy as he ended each life and was covered in their blood. Felt all of their pain as he watched them individually die before his eyes and felt their emotions. Betrayal, hurt, confusion, resentment and hate, all of them and more hitting him at once as they screamed at him. He felt like he was drowning. It was too much and his legs gave out from under him, Big Brother the only thing holding him up.

Every one watched as the two look a likes had a stare down, before Alfred collapsed, tears running freely down his face and no longer shaking-no longer breathing maybe?- but his eyes never left his dopple-gangers.

Big Brother chuckled and made small "tutt tutt" noises as he stood the boy back up fully, legs barely supporting him. He used one hand to wipe away the tears on Alfred's face, leaving a trail of blood in his thumbs wake. "See, if Big Brother took over, you wouldn't have to deal with nasty emotions like this. I would take care of every one that made you feel this way. And I could teach you to enjoy it too. It really is fun."

He leaned his forehead against Alfreds in an almost affectionate way, a way that lovers would if it had been two other people in a different situation. "And one day America, I will take over. Whether you like it or not." He said, smiling maliciously.

"And until the day comes when I See you again in the real world, I'll leave you with this." He reached into his jacket and pulled out an old fashioned silver pistol, jamming it into Americas chest. The boy stared up at him with wide tear filled eyes.

Something in Russia snapped; or snapped further. He was ready to go into an animalistic rage when the strange man made his Alfred cry and bit into the boys neck. Now though, it seemed his rage had finally freed him from standing around and staring like an idiot as he had been previously. "GILBERT!" He yelled, whipping his wand out, which he should've used ages ago.

"I know!" The Prussian seemed to have flown into the same rage as he himself.

"It seems I don't have much time left." Big Brother sighed as he heard The Russian start yelling. Suddenly, ann idea seemed to come to him. He smirked.

"I'll see you in your dreams." He whispered, leaning down to the stunned nation and capturing his lips into a rough kiss. Alfred jolted as he felt this and the trigger to the gun draw back with a click.

"America!" Gilbert yelled, running forward and wipping out his wand.

Ivan finally tore himself from the spear, leaving a piece of his robe and pant leg with it.

"RIDIKILUS!" They both yelled, firing off the spell a moment too late, as a single gunshot rang through the room.

Alfred gasped in pain as the bullet entered him, and the other smirked into the kiss, slightly satisfied as he was blown back into the youngers subconscious, leaving the Boggart to retreat back into the wardrobe.

Alfred stood there for a moment, staring into nothing before collapsing.

Prussia darted forward and caught the boy before he could hit the ground, watching as dull blue eyes closed into unconsciousness. He rested His friend onto his lap, holding his head and neck in the crook of his elbow. Russia kneeled next to him, checking Alfreds Vitals. They were relieved to find him fine for the most part; his heart was beating rapidly, he was shaking slightly and shivering, and his breathing was very unsteady, but he was otherwise ok. Every thing had just been an illusion. Even the gun shot.

They looked around the room for a moment and noticed the bodies, the fog, everything was gone. Though there were some students collapsed on the ground and crying. There was a lot of crying. And some throwing up, but they didn't really care.

The other nations were slowly recovered and rushed over

"Is he ok? Aru! Damn that was scary!"

"What was that...thing?" Ludwig asked disbelievingly. Feliciano still clung to him, but was looking worriedly at Alfred over Gilbert's shoulder.

"We were...killed..." Canada shived, remembering seeing his own corpse hanging off of the wardrobe with a broken spine.

They were crowded with similar questions from the other nations, as Teachers rushed into the scene.

"Good Gracious!" Professor McGonagall said directing other nurses and teachers to help the traumatized students and made her way over to the transfer students with professor Snape and Lupin after hearing them fret over their friend.

"What happened?" She asked, catching their attention, "We couldn't get into the class but we could hear people yelling and screaming! Are you alright?"

"I think we're alright, but Al-" Prussia stopped when he felt something wet seep through his sleeve. Frowning slightly he gently shifted the nation in his arms so he could look at the sleeve that had been holding the others neck. It was stained a deep red. His frown deepened and he looked at Alfred's neck. And swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. It looked like some one had gone to town on a piece of the nations neck. It was bleeding profusely and left in tatters of skin, like some kind of wrapping paper.

Prussia and Ivan paled and they saw Shock on ones face and an indescribable rage building on the others.

Seeing their faces, the other nations and teachers looked at the unconscious boy. Lupin, McGonagall and some of the others nations gasped, Snape's frown deepened.

"That damned Boggart!" Gilbert hissed. "I'll kill it!"

"Boggarts can't do that kind of damage." Lupin corrected him. " It couldn't have been the Boggart."

"Unless there's some other creature hiding in that wardrobe, it's the only one that could have done it!" He snapped back as McGonagall called in the nurses to take Alfred to the hospital wing. He cradled the boy against his chest protectively and glared at every one who wasn't a nation. "I can take him there." He added, shying away from the nurses that tried to take America.

"We can take him there with you. He means." The purple eyed Slytherin corrected his house mate. "We aren't letting him out of our sight." Ivan left little room for argument.

The professors looked at the two Slytherins oddly. To see two from a house that generally hated anything to do with Gryffindors was well...odd. To say the least. Snape was not pleased.

By this time, the golden trio had also made their way over and it almost seemed...wrong how they acted towards the Gryffindor boy.

Gilbert, understanding their puzzlement, intensified his glare "My friends well being comes before any of your damn stupid house rivalries." He gritted out, standing up and holding the other in his arms, bridal style and walking towards the doors. I van at his side. The combined glares and generally pissed off auras keeping away any one who would dare take away the child in The albinos arms.

Professor McGonagall wanted to stop them, but got the feeling nothing would dissuade them to freely give the blond into anothers care.

She shook her head and asked if every one was all right. They were shaken but none were injured. She gathered up the ones that would need some mental help and began shooing the others off to their dorms, telling them to take the rest of the day off.

"But we want to see-" Feliciano started, but was cut off by the older woman.

"You may come see him in a couple hours. For now, go rest. You've all had a long day. Are you sure you don't need any help?" The nations simply shook their heads and walked towards the door. They had seen death and wars and massacres before. And although it had been disturbing, they would be fine.

As Prussia and Russia walked down the hall, they were lost in thought. Boggarts weren't supposed to be able to do this. Prussia gently rested his sleeve on the wound, trying to stunt the flow. Even in sleep, he noticed, the boy in his arms still looked troubled. He idly wondered what else it could've done. Well, whatever it could've, they would probably find bloody crescent shaped marks on his arms after taking off his shirt.

Hope you guys liked it! it wasn't as descriptive as it was in my mind, so it's important that you imagine the chars reactions and how they would act.