A/N: I don't own Hetalia. I own the idea.

A storm rages through the small, yet big enough for the townspeople, town, making the sleeping restless as they rest in their beds. This storm wasn't supposed to come, but it did on such short notice. A certain person who was still a wake, not because he's scared (he deny anything about him being scared), knew that this storm wasn't an average one; at least to him he thought he wasn't average. He's seen a lot of crazy storms in his twenty-five year, but this one made his bones ache, shivering from the cool night's subzero weather. He's never experienced such cold weather in June; it's been a rare occurrence, but this town was known for it's low temperatures during horrible storms.

They young man sighed, catching a glimpse of his breathe before it disappeared into nothing. "Man, it's cold to the point I can see my own breathe." he whispers, his voice is too raw from his throat being dry and from a dare he did hours ago. He was bored so he sent a message to his brother via text; his brother complained and told him to chug down some tequila with vodka and beer to get ride of his boredom and stop pestering the Canadian at such an ungodly hour in the morning. The American took up the dare, it wasn't really a dare, but the blond thought it would be fun to try something new. It ruined his throat from all the different types of alcohol; he also had such a horrible stomach ache, vomiting most of the liquids he drank, and became drunk to the point he passed out after his two tequila bottles, seven vodka shots, and twelve beer cans. How he survived through those immense doses of different drinks without dying right after was a wonder to himself. They were mostly sample bottles, but he still got drunk.

He remembered the experience which automatically summoned another headache. "Damn it," Alfred whined, "why did Mattie have to give me that stupid dare." He mulled over the said dare and roughly chuckle. "Well...it wasn't that bad of a dare. I just learned to never drink several acidic beverages containing alcohol in them ever again." He continued to chortle as he confirmed his blond stupidity, yet again.

A flash of lighting was shown through his curtain, near his bed and eye sight, making him flinch. He looked at the window, counting until he heard thunder. He counted: 1...2...3...4... and heard thunder. "Four, huh?" It's not that far...duh it's right over the damn town; of course it's not that far. He lazily did a face-palm, chuckling at how silly he's being. "I can't believe I'm talking to myself..." It's better than sitting in silence though.

The storm raged on. Flashing. Thundering. Each flash made Alfred flinch then prepare for the massive boom to come; he tries not to jump at the loud noise, but fails, yelping as he held the blanket around him tighter. "I...I-I shouldn't be s-scared..." he thought about what he said, blinking. "I-I'm not scared!" He shouted into the dark, silent room he slept in. "I...I just wasn't prepared enough." Yeah that's it, he said to himself, I just wasn't...prepared...

Out of no where, he heard a chuckle. His head whipped around, searching the area where it came from. "W-who's there?" He listened...scanned the area again...and heard no answer. "Must've been my imagination." He pondered, then laughed. "Yeah, t-that's it. Just my imagination." A sudden boom came from the other side of his wall, shaking the small apartment he lived in, making him jump off his bed. "S-stupid storm!" He shouted, scrapping his throat, increasing the pain he already has.

Another chuckle appeared from the same corner, and the blond American immediately turned around, trying to see who it was. He saw no one. "Hey," he says standing up with shaky legs, "if s-someone's there then s-show yourself." Nothing changed. No one came forward or moved. "I k-know someone's here..." he trailed off. His fear of ghost crept up into his mind, freaking himself out and whimpering from the possible fact. "...I don't want to see a ghost."

"You still have that stupid fear of ghost?" Alfred jumped from the said question. Turning around slowly, he saw a blue, transparent thing floating in the air. The American screamed, scrambling for his gun, ready to shoot. "Whoa whoa, no need to freak out, Al. I'm just here to visit and see how you're doing." He thought that he was really drunk still, even though it's been almost nine hours since he's drank anything, and that he was hallucinating.

The blond soon blinked as he registered the familiar voice. As he stared at the thing, he saw that it was actually a friend of his. A friend who could be called a brother. "Dan?" The dark haired man nodded with a smirk. He was no longer a blue, seeing through ghost; he was the solid, still living American born Scot-Canadian that he's loved to chat with, play games with, and do pranks with. Alfred pouted at his friend. "Don't scare me like that...ever!" Daniel chuckled as he gazed at his American friend. The blond smiled, locking eyes with the dark haired, blue eyed man in front of him. "Dude, it's been like forever since I've seen you." He went to hug the Scott, but decided not to. "How'd you get in here any way?"

The man shrugged. "I found the key on the door frame. You should really hide it someplace where no one will guess where it is." Alfred chuckled, taking that as great advice, mentally putting it as a note. "I see you've been drinking."

"Yeah," Alfred shrugged it off as he set his gun down and went back over to his bed, "but it was for a dare, so no harm done really."

"Yeah right," Dan shook his head, "you're voice sounds horrible. You must've drank a lot and ruined your throat or something."

"It burned like hell, if that's what you mean." He nodded as he clenched his throat. "It still hurts to talk, but I'll get through." The American smiled as he patted his bed, telling his friend to sit; Dan didn't move, though he thanked his friend for the kind gesture. "So," Al started as he laid back on his bed, glancing at the other, "what have you been up to lately?"

Dan shrugged. "Nothing really." Alfred gave a slight eye roll, not believing him. "I feel great as ever though," the blond smiled, "but at times I still feel pretty dead."

Al furrowed his eyes in confusion. "What do you mean?" Before his friend could answer, the phone rang. The American picked it up, seeing that it was his brother, and answered. "Hey, bro, what's up? Why you calling so early in the morning?"

"W-well," Matthew was in his own room, sighing from exhaustion, tired from not getting enough sleep, but wanted to share the...startling news to his twin, "since I knew that you'd be up, I wanted to call you...a-and tell you...s-something." Al hummed, signaling that he's listening. "W-well...d-do you remember...that f-friend of yours from high school? The o-one who you claimed to be your second b-brother?" The Canadian, though he stutters most times, wasn't himself as he stuttered more that usual.

Alfred caught on to his brother's stuttering, figuring something bad must have happened, but played it cool and upbeat. "Are you talking about Daniel? Daniel Beckett Jones? Yeah, I remember him." He smiled as he looked at his said friend. "Why?"

"Um...w-well..." His brother trailed off. The American knew that something was wrong. His brother doesn't hesitate this much, and stutter; he only does this when something really upsetting has happened. I wonder if his Mom passed or something. As he stared at Dan, he shook his head. He would've told me, though. I wonder what's up. "Um..." Mattie started again. "Well, I'm great friends with his sister, remember?" Alfred nodded, saying a quick "yeah" as he remembered the brunette Dan loved; they're twins, inseparable, and hard to dislike. "Well..." he paused again, sighing. "S-she called me."

"Oh really?" Alfred's eyebrows lifted. I totally forgot he also got like this after getting a call from a girl that he used to have a crush on...I wonder if he still likes her? "Are you guys going to get back up to date and possibly," he smiled, "go out?"

"Alfred!" Matthew blushed even though that what he wanted to say wasn't anywhere near that great. "N-no! It's not like that! S-she just c-called and talked and...shared s-some news with me."

"Is she getting married?"

"NO!" Matt was starting to get aggravated, both from his brother and unbelievable idea...well it wasn't unbelievable, but he couldn't see Sarina getting married yet. "Just shut up and let me speak." Alfred did as he was told. Matt sighed. "So you remember him, right?" The American nodded again, still staring at Dan. I wonder if I should mention that he's right here in front of me? "Well, he's..." Matthew trailed off again, but soon snapped out of his thought and said what he's been meaning to share. "Alfred...h-he's dead."

A/N: Here's the intro of yet another story. I was talking with a friend of mine about something considering my stories and she said for my Fallen stories i could have Alfred for "Haunted". It does fit him a bit, and so she mentioned an idea. So I'm giving credit for my friend Noke Neko Lover who gave me the idea for this story.

Daniel and Sarina aren't any of the countries, they're just other characters. Daniel will be more important than Sarina, though, and he's going to make Alfred's life a bit more interesting.

These chapters are probably going to be short like my Mage of Elements story that i still need to continue. I just wanted to warn you about the probability of short chapters.

I hope you like the new story. Thanks fro reading, loves! R&R.