A/N: Uh..hello. This is Tenshi, trying to get her butt back into fan fiction writing with my new favorite obsession-Hetalia! (hence the picture of Belarus :P).

Anyways, I would just like to say I did this as a writing assignment in English; you know, the one where you have to start every sentence with the next letter of the alphabet? Well, this is what immediately popped into my head, and off I went. Coincidentally, my teacher understood NONE of what I was writing, but I digress. I also kind of cheated in some areas, at least with what's considered the start of the sentence, BUT IT WAS IN THE NAME OF ART! Or something...

Disclaimer: I barely own my sanity. What makes you think I'd own something as awesome as Hetalia?

In any case, I now present to you: How to Kick-Start the Zombie Apocalypse

Alfred F. Jones peered out the window, his glasses fogged by his own warm breath.

Brushing his hair back irritably, the persona continued to search for signs of the other personifications.

Contrary to popular belief, Alfred was not an idiot.

Didn't he WARN the others of this new disease, one that he had discovered among his people?

Even when he brought in evidence: a-honest-to-God Zed, right there in the meeting room; they didn't listen.

"Fool," England had snapped, "this is just another one of your actors in a costume and make-up!"

Germany had nodded uncertainly, but his eyes never strayed from the creature in the corner of the meeting room.

He was right to doubt England, Alfred mused as he threw a quick glance back at the a fore-mentioned nation, who was laying on the concrete and groaning in pain.

Italy knelt besides his long-time ally and muttered quietly in frenzied Italian as he tended to the German's injuries.

Just as Alfred was about to go and assist the Italian nation, he heard a thudding against the battered metal door.

Knuckles subconsciously tightened around his Bowie Knife's handle as America slowly began turning towards the obnoxious sound, which was now pulsating in the previously quiet room.

Licking his chapped lips nervously, Alfred slipped towards the door, his posture stiff and knife held at the ready.

"M-Mister America, do you think that t-the noise could be one of the others?" Italy inquired shakily, having finally looked away from his first-aid kit.

"Not sure," Alfred murmured back to the hopeful nation "but I think so-no moaning sounds, so it isn't a zombie; but that doesn't mean we're safe. Our friend could be someone dangerous, like Switzerland or-"

"Privyet, Amerika!" Russia laughed, having finally broken down the door; his eerie grin widening as the afore-mentioned nation's knife embedded into the wall a breath away from the Russian's head.

"Quiet Amerika, unless you want them to hear you stomping about."

Russia smirked as he pulled out the knife, his eyes dancing with mischief, before handing the weapon back to the now-seething American.

Snarling in irritation, Alfred then hissed "To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival, commie?"

Unexpectedly, Russia's grin faded.

Various emotions flickered across the frosty nation's eyes-reluctance and worry being the most prominent-before Russia sighed in resignation.

"Well, Alfred-" the American twitched at the use of his human name (wrongwrongWRONG for the Commie to be able to use his Name like that) "seeing as you were the only nation insane enough to actually have a Zombie Apocalypse Survival Plan, I figured you could help me gather the remaining countries in the meeting room, so we can start figuring out what to do." Russia explained awkwardly, shifting his metal pipe between his fingers in discomfort.

"X's mark the spot" Alfred grumpily began to explain; before he abruptly turned and lobbed the knife into a map on the opposite wall, then turned back to the other nations "of the last known location of all of the nations who were at the meeting; but that was before the communications got cut off, so it's likely they've moved to safer areas since then."

"You're actually willing to help me, Alfred" the Russian questioned, one of his snowy eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Zombies make everyone allies, Ivan." America stated bitterly, rolling his eyes.

A/N So there it is! I may or may not continue writing this plot idea, though not in alphabetical form (I just CAN'T. It is so freaking difficult to do, Oh My God -_-U) But I do like the where the story is heading, and I want to establish where some of the missing parts took place. That sort of thing.

I would love any constructive criticism you guys may have, as well as any suggestions for my writing or for future plot. I apologize for sounding as awkward as a duck in these notes, but I haven't written one in quite a while, so I'm completely out of practice. *shrug*

...

...

Oh, and to my Turkey: You better read this or so help me Nappa, I will stab you with a spork and sic Greece and her cats on you! 'Kay, bye!