Omnipotent

I do not own Hetalia

Synopsis: A handful of friends are invited to a house Gilbert and Ludwig had inherited to have a nice dinner party, but things turn sour very quickly.

Genre: Horror

Rating: T (for now) language

A/N: I've included a list of human names for those of you who were unsure. And if you're here form tumblr, thanks for checking out my story! I hope you enjoy it. My goal is to create a good horror fanfiction free of clichés and with my own touch.

Feliciano – Italy

Ludwig – Germany

Gilbert – Prussia

Arthur – England

Alfred – USA

Kiku – Japan

Lovino – Romano

Ivan – Russia

Antonio – Spain

Francis – France

Elizaveta – Hungary

Yao – China

Prologue

The invitation came late one summer's day, past the mailman's usual work hours. Each guest heard a knock on their door and opened it to find not a trace of the deliverer. Instead, lying upon the ground was a letter. Formally printed words tucked into an envelope, addressed from Gilbert Beilschmidt, invited them to a dinner party set to take place the following Saturday night, in a forested area in the center of Eastern Europe. Those nearby were given train tickets and those living on the opposite side of the globe airplane tickets. Alfred and Matthew, who were staying in the same house for the time being, turning to glance at one another.

Alfred grinned his array of pearly teeth and said; "Why not? Everyone else will be there."

Matthew felt a shiver creep down his spine. If anything, they could find Ludwig's house. Though he imagined entering the house and being attacked and stolen away in the dead of the night, pulled into a musty attic and tortured. "I don't know, Al, are you sure it's going to be safe?"

Alfred paused, taking it into account. "Nah, probably not."

Matthew didn't want to go; but he also didn't want to leave Alfred alone. "Fine, but at the first sign of trouble I'm running out."

"Fine, where will you go?" Alfred sneered.

Matthew chose not to respond.

"Matt, it's from Gil, do you really think he'd hurt us?"

"Well, I suppose not." Matthew sighed, leaving to his room to pack. The plane left the next afternoon and he didn't want to spend all the next day digging through his clothing and yelling at Alfred to get ready.

His shared room with Alfred, lost in the endless apartments of New York, was cramped. The carpet must have been put in years ago and none of the many residents had decided to change it.

Alfred wandered in, cracking open a can of pop and sipping it, watching Matthew crawl under the bed for his suitcase.

"Come on, it will be fun," he urged.

"Get your suit ready," Matthew grumbled, tired of all and any games.

Across a long stretch of water, Arthur peered at the letter, trying to decipher the letters. Whoever had delivered it carelessly tossed it on the ground, unheeding of the pouring rain. The mulch of a paper caused each letter to cry out its ink. Arthur pushed his soaked hair out of his eyes and managed, somehow, to figure out what the letter wanted to say. He suspected some form of tomfoolery from Gilbert, some master prank to scare him, but Ludwig's neat signature at the bottom brought a sense of comfort.

The next night, Alfred and Matthew hopped off of a taxi, each carrying a backpack, and trekked through a mile of forestry towards the mansion. The setting sun threw a veil of orange over the tall trees. A cold wind picked up and rustled the leaves, overall calming Alfred and Matthew. It reminded them of countless camping trips they had taken. However, the heavens bent in, heavy with grey clouds; unlike the forget-me-not dome of mountain sky Alfred was used to.

Matthew stopped at a dirt road, sloping into the land and leading towards the mansion. The windows, like eyes of Greek statues, hardly emitted the light from indoors. The walls were chipped and dark stains covered the base. The door was open, sounds of bustling footsteps coming from within. Before the house was a small garden, consisting of spidery trees and chalk-white grasses, as though death had passed through and drained all life from it. A statue of an angel with her arms out and her face towards the sky greeted them. Matthew shivered at the sight. Alfred beamed.

"This is awesome! Super creepy, double points for atmosphere."

"Alfred…" Matthew mumbled and Alfred shot him a murderous glance.

"All you've been doing is nagging me the entire way. Would you give it a rest?" He barked.

Matthew shrunk back into himself. He had never seen Alfred mad at him. "Al…?"

Alfred shook his head, rubbing his temple, "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I guess I'm tired from all the travel." He flicked back a strand of golden hair and gave Matthew an apologetic look.

"It's fine, don't do it again." Matthew only felt more so disturbed.

"Oh you're here!" A familiar, raspy Germany voice called from the door. Gilbert's smirking face appeared through the doorway, "Sorry for the outward appearance, we couldn't find another place. Come in," He pulled the door back and stepped aside.

Matthew trailed closely behind Alfred, who fist-bumped Gilbert as a greeting. "Hey, is this a formal occasion?"

"No," Ludwig appeared from behind the kitchen counter and explained in a terse manner, "No, you can wear what you want. Gilbert, show them to their guest room."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, annoyed at having been ordered around. "Come on," he waved at them to follow.

Their guest room was on an upper floor, surrounded by rows of other rooms. "It's a nice place," Matthew noted, peering around the halls. The carpet curled at the end of a hallway. A crack trailed down from behind a picture, like a tail. The picture had nothing on its face, just a blank sheet of paper. Matthew decided it had been washed out by the unrelenting touch of time.

"This is great!" Alfred exclaimed, dropping his bag onto one of two beds. The room smelled of sunflower-scented detergent. The bed spreads were of a Victorian age, thousands of flowers stitched on the front. Matthew claimed the other bed and looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his mousy hair. The mirror was not cracked, as Matthew had first expected, but rather clean and almost new.

"How did you get a hold of this house, Gilbert?" Matthew asked softly.

Gilbert curled his lip. His top teeth were yellowed and bent at off angles. "Um, we inherited it and never used it. So today, 'cause of some banking problems and all, we decided to clean it up and use it to invite you all over. Ludwig's cooking something…" He looked over his shoulder down the hallway.

The scent of grilled meat and cabbage wafted towards them.

"Smells great," Alfred examined the drawers, finding dusty books inside.

"Yeah, awesome little brother," Gilbert said proudly. The door bell sounded. He left without excusing himself.

After washing the scent of travel off of them, the brothers headed downstairs. Alfred skipped every two steps. Matthew lingered at the top of the staircase, feeling suddenly very dizzy. He clutched the top of the steps, black spots emerging in front of his eyes. "Al…" he called weakly.

Alfred stopped and turned. "You okay?"

"N-No…" Matthew's knees buckled.

"You didn't eat, did you?" Alfred called in panic. He rushed into the kitchen, smiling politely. "Hey, Ludwig, do you have anything sugary? Matthew needs it."

Ludwig raised his eyebrows and calmly searched through the fridge, finding a small chocolate bar. He handed it over and Alfred snatched it away, passing Feliciano and Romano at the door. He dropped to his knees, giving it to Matthew. Matthew had been experiencing sudden dizzy spells among other ailments lately. He had taken him to the doctor but he only looked on sadly and asked for blood samples, sending them in to search up the cause of the problem. He still hadn't called back to tell them the problem.

Feliciano greeted Ludwig and Gilbert with friendly kisses to their cheeks. He spoke rapidly, explaining the honor of being invited. Lovino grunted his hello, furrowing his eyebrows. Gilbert led them to their appropriate room.

"Why do we all need to a share a fucking room?" Lovino exasperated.

"Because we don't have enough for everyone to be alone. Also you won't want to be alone in this house." Gilbert responded, adding an air of mystery that widened Lovino's eyes.

"You're saying there's a damn ghost?"

"No," Gilbert exited the room, "I don't think so at least." He sniggered his way down, greeting Arthur, Elizaveta, Yao, and Kiku at the door.

Yao and Kiku shared a room and Arthur blushed vividly, refusing to share the room with Elizaveta, who grew hot-headed at the notion.

"Oh, because I'm a woman? You can't stand your bodily needs for one night?" She snapped, shouldering her fat red purse.

"No, I just…" Arthur was stumped. He allowed her the bed nearer to the window and quietly readied himself, looking away from Elizaveta.

Antonio, Francis, and Ivan were last to arrive. Francis and Antonio entered their room, talking comfortably.

"I haven't seen you in ages, Francis! Where have you been?"Antonio asked, looking around the room.

"I've been in Normandy and Lyon. I've wanted to remain out of Paris for a while. The bustle of the city can get on my nerves. And you?"

"I've been living in Madrid… This house is amazing! It would be something out of a mystery novel set in Barcelona. All we need is the unfaithful wife and the ghost lingering through the corners."

Francis took that in and shrugged, "It would be exiting, but I think certain people would wet themselves out of fear." He thought back to the Italian brothers and imagined them clinging to each other, Feliciano burbling nonsense and Lovino cursing the ghost with every word he knew in every language.

"Yes, that is true," Antonio laughed.

Gilbert looked at Ivan formally, "I'm sorry but you have a room to yourself."

"Is there a balcony?" Ivan asked in monotone, looking down at Gilbert indifferently.

"Yes," Gilbert responded, leaving him alone.

Ivan shut the door behind him and opened a sliding glass door, walking out to the balcony. An inch of the sun remained visible beyond the horizon. Ivan lit a cigarette and stuck it in his lips, the bluish smoke tendrils curling around his cheeks. He pulled out his phone and searched for a signal, but found none. He didn't particularly want to come, but he didn't despise anyone there. He had other things to do, was all. Also, he was certain nobody wanted him there in the first place. He browsed through his already read emails listlessly.

In the room beside him, he could hear Kiku murmur to Yao, but not exactly what about.

Kiku pulled out a novel and placed it on his bedside.

"Ah! Kiku, how can you bring a book when we will most likely stay up the whole night?" Yao retorted, "That is not respectful to the hosts!"

"I like to read before I sleep. Do you think I would take this book to the table and read it while we eat?" Kiku said coldly.

Yao sighed and turned away, entering the small bathroom and splashing water across his face.

A bell rung in each room, startling Matthew and Alfred, but calling the other's attention. They all roamed to the stairs, marching down as Gilbert waved them all to dinner.

[chapters will usually be longer than this one, but this is just a taste of what I will do]