literature

Through the Picture Frame 13

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A Hetalia X Ib Crossover

Chapter 13 – Nightmares

You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed like this, but your tears eventually stopped and Al loosened his arms. You stole a glance at Al. His eyes were averted from you, and a slight tinge of pink stained his cheeks. You stepped away from him.

“I guess we should get going, then,” you stated avoiding his gaze. Al silently nodded. However, when you reached the door, it was locked tight.

“Oh, Al, I need the key, it’s locked.”

“Sure,” he replied and began to fish his pockets for it, only to come out empty handed.

“What? It was here, I swear. Name, maybe it fell out of my pocket somewhere. Could you help me look for it?” He gestured towards the bookcase, which was well away from the painting. You searched around, but there was no key.

“Al, it’s not here. Are you sure that it’s not in your pocket?” you asked.

“Yeah, I know it’s…” he trailed off and held out his hand for silence. “Name,” Al began in a whisper, “do you hear that noise?” You paused to listen. A small scratching sound resounded throughout the room.

“Yeah,” you replied in hushed tones, “can you tell where it’s coming from?” Suddenly, you felt the bookcase wobble.

“Al! I think a Lady is trying to get in!” He rushed over and the both of you threw your weight against the bookcase. Gradually, the pushing and wobbling stopped as the Lady gave up.

“Th-that was close,” Al breathed, “I thought I was going to have another heart attack.” Suddenly, the scratching returned at a louder rate, and a corner of the wall burst open. Three ladies poured out, their nails leaving cracks in the marble.

You and Al both let out high pitched, blood-curling screams and dodged their swipes. Al grabbed your hand in a death grip and dashed through the hole that the ladies made.
The gallery was utter chaos. All the Lady portraits and statues had come to life, and mannequin heads blocked the entrance to the other rooms.

“We’re trapped!” Al exclaimed. You wriggled out of his grasp and yanked on his arm.

“There’s one more door left!” you called out, “We have to get there before the mannequins block its entrance too!” You pulled him through the maze of monsters and to the door in the corridor. To your relief, it was slightly ajar. You raced through the outstretched arms of the statues and dove in the door.

You slammed the door behind you as Al retook the lead and pulled you past the line of mime paintings and mannequins. Blood-red tears began to pour out of their eyes and malicious smiles stretched across their faces. You could’ve sworn that their eyes were following you.

Al began to slow down at the end of the hallway and slumped against the wall.

“I..am..NEVER….going to…an…art museum…ever…again…” he panted, “We’re…lucky…to even…get…out…of that…hellhole…alive. The hero…needs…a break. Need…water…” He gave a dry cough and looked fairly green. “Name…how are you…holding up?”

You, yourself, weren’t well either. Your head began to pound as the colors began to swirl around you. Al suddenly turned into a very blurry shape as your eyes began to unfocus. The next thing you knew, you heard Al cry out your name in alarm as you felt yourself falling backward into darkness.
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The ground was hard and cold; you felt like you had a fever. Your eyes cracked open to inspect the room around you. It was void of and furniture and dimly lit from an invisible light source. There were two doors on opposite walls and a loud ticking resounded throughout the room.

“Ugh…” you groaned, straightening up, “Al? Where are we?” Your question was met by silence.

“Al?” you called a bit louder, “Where’d you go?”

Al wouldn’t abandon me here, would he? The ticking noise got louder, and you felt a dangerous presence, similar to the empty gallery. I don’t know what’s out there, but I have to get out of this room. You went through a door, only to find another one on the opposite wall. You passed through that one as well. Oh god, that thing is chasing me, please let there be a way out. However, the next door was locked. You jiggled the doorknob desperately, but it wouldn’t budge.

“No…” you breathed, looking back at the door apprehensively. The ticking’s volume increased so much that it began to make your ears hurt. In a last ditch effort, you rammed yourself against the door, and it creaked open. “Thank god,” you muttered and hurried in while shutting the door behind you.

Unlike the previous rooms, this one was dark. You felt around for the light switch and you flicked it on. You nearly screamed at the sight that met you. A mannequin head, a statue, and a Lady painting crawled towards you.

“N-no…” you whispered and tried to go back, only to find that the door had locked itself. You slammed yourself against it, but it wouldn’t open. You turned back around; the monsters were inching closer.

Then, you felt the door creaked open, and your back met a firm chest. You stared up and tried not to scream again. An exact replica of your uncle was standing behind you. However, his eyes were a deep shade of violet, his skin was a deeper tan, and his hair was a darker shade of brown. To your horror, he had a sharpened butter knife clutched in his right hand. His hard, gloved hand clasped your shoulder, and he help up the knife and plunged it downwards.

You heard a low, derisive laugh, “Vehehehehe.”
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Your eyes snapped open. You were lying on the ground again, but it was covered with carpet.

An unpleasant, rancid smell filled your nose. Yuck! What is this? Al’s blue hoodie was draped over you like a blanket; the smell emanated from the fabric.

Gross! This thing smells like grease! When’s the last time he washed this thing? You choked on the foul odor and sat up, gasping for fresher air.

“Name! You’re awake!” Al sat down next to you and felt your forehead. “You okay? You were sweating while you were asleep Do you have a fever?”

“I had a nightmare…”you murmured.

“Yeah,” Al replied sympathetically, “this place does a number on you.” He appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Name, I want you to check my right pocket. You found a small wrapped candy.

“A Snickers bar, Al?” he looked a bit sheepish.

“Whenever I feel stressed, I eat chocolate or other candy. Eating something sweet usually makes me feel better.”

You smiled and placed it in your pocket. “Thanks, I’ll save it for later.”

“Don’t worry Name, I promise that I’ll get you out of here if it’s the last thing I do,” Al gave you a reassuring pat on the head and stood up.

“Let’s rest for a bit more, whenever you’re ready to leave, just let me know.” He went back behind a row of bookshelves. You let your eyes wander around the room. A vase stood on a small table to your left. Bookshelves surrounded the table and lined the walls. A large, abstract painting hung to your left; its plaque read “Untitled”.

You picked up Al’s coat and headed to where he sat. A pile of books surrounded him while he was reading a small book. You handed him the coat.

“Well,” Al started while pulling it on, “I tried looking for any information about this place, but all I found were books on art techniques and sculpture. Do you recognize any that you’ve seen Feliciano read? He might’ve made notes in them.” You shook your head.

“Sorry, but I only know the names and paintings that he did.” Al sighed.

“I at least want to know what kind of connection we have to these roses,” he pulled his out. The petals were still colored a dark sapphire.

“Yours is red isn’t it?” he asked. You pulled out your rose; it was missing two petals. Al immediately grabbed the vase and held it out to you. “Name, here. I had a close call with mine, and I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

You dropped it in the vase, and the petals began to glow scarlet again. You immediately felt strength returning to your exhausted body. Al was observing the reaction closely.

“Hey, Name,” he eyed his rose carefully, “do blue roses even exist in real life? I thought natural ones were impossible to grow.” His statement was followed by an awkward silence.

“You’re a lonely person, aren’t you, Name?” you were caught off guard.

“Wha?”

“Never mind, forget that I said anything.” Al’s statement was followed by another uncomfortable silence. You attempted to start a conversation.

“Al, do you like art?”

“Sort of,” he replied, “I really like the Transcendentalist landscapes, but I don’t really do much thought outside of the picture. What about you, Name?”

“I really like art, and I hope that I can be an artist someday. But, I want to try sculpting and photography.”

“You want to follow your uncle’s footsteps?”

“Yeah, I’ve been applying to art schools, but I don’t know if I’ve been accepted yet.”

“You’re likely to. I’ve heard Artie talk about you. You’re bound to be accepted in all of them.” You perked up at this statement. Arthur talked about me?

“Arthur mentioned me to you?”

“Yeah, he said all kinds of things.” Your curiosity piqued you.

“Like what?” Al smirked and pressed a finger to his lips.

“It’s my secret~ A hero always has his secrets~” You smiled and felt a blush tint your cheeks.

“A-anyways,” you stammered, “do you know how long we’ve been here? I’m pretty sure someone has at least noticed that we’ve been missing by now.” Al shook his head.

“I’m not sure what time is it. My watch has stopped ever since I’ve arrived here. I guess I have to go see a watchmaker to fix it. What’s that thing wrapped around your arm?” He pointed at Oliver’s handkerchief still on your upper arm; you had forgotten about it. It remained pure white with only a few faint spots of blood dotting the center.

“Oh,” you untied it, “Oliver used it to stop the bleeding. The wound’s healed by now.”  You stuffed it in your pocket.

“Who’s Oliver?” Al asked. You chided yourself; you had forgotten all about him ever since meeting up with Al. If your mind was as forgetful as this, then you might have left him alone in the gallery.

“Oh, he’s another person in the gallery, but we got separated.”You snuck a glance at Al; he appeared thoughtful.

“Of course, we should find the exit first,” you hastily added, “You could leave while I could look for Oliver. I’d at least like to know where the exit is before wandering around.”

“Name, I could help you look for him after finding the exit. It’d make things faster, so we can go home sooner.” You lifted looked at him gratefully.

“A-are you sure?”

“Yeah! It’s wrong for me to abandon others here. That’s just un-heroic.” He stood up and offered his hand, “we should probably get going. There’s bound to be a lead somewhere.”
Here's a really long chapter for compensation of the previous awkward chapter... Hopefully, this one isn't as bad.
Feedback is appreciated, and thanks to those who favorited!

Love,
raining-indigo
© 2014 - 2024 raining-indigo
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StarrTechno's avatar
I love Hetalia.
I love Ib.


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