Hey! So this is my first Hetalia fic on here! :D Well, I've written like 25 stories in the FMA section such as '333 and More Ways to Get Kicked Out of HQ' that has over 1,200 reviews. I decided to take a break from that series and head over to Hetalia!

Please note, this is actually the 3rd version of this story. There's the original one that is completely mine and I entered into a screenwriting competition (and got into the top 50 and still competing in now! XD), and a FMA version. However, I felt that it worked oddly well with Hetalia too so please forgive me for recycling this story! I promise I'll stop doing it! XD

It was a song that he had never heard before, but as the bone-chilling melody wavered in the air, he couldn't help but be enchanted. He was clothed in black attire, and she was a bit confused. His father was in tears along with the rest of her family who had shown up at his house before heading to the ceremony. When he asked what was happening, his father began sobbing and hugging him tightly, chanting his name as if it were a lifeline. He watched over his father's shoulder as a wooden box was lowered into a hole and was buried under mounds of worm filled clots of dirt. He looked around until he finally saw the source of the melody and he smiled. There was a woman dressed in a black gown with a veil that extended to the small of her back, covering her long, flame-like hair. Next to her were a violinist, cellist, and another woman dressed in similar clothing. The two women sang in harmony, not speaking a word, but just singing straight through to the heart.

"Papa? Who were those ladies singing outside today?"

"Those were mourners, mon petit . They were singing a requiem for your father since he died out in battle."

"Do the ladies sing every time someone dies, papa?"

"Yes they do un jeune, and you don't usually hear them that often. They only sing at funerals for that song. Now come on, your brother is getting hungry! Can't keep him waiting!"

"Okay papa!"

-HETALIA-

"Did you hear? Old Yao got murdered last night…"

"He did? That poor old man, he was a nice fella that he was."

"Yeah, he was drowned and found dead in his house, sprawled out across the floor covered in water; it makes me wonder about who done it!"

-HETALIA-

The entire town knew of old man Yao and they all gathered again at the cemetery where they were not a week before for the British soldier's burial. The boy stood with her father and older brother as the casket went by and he smiled as the women began to sing death's hymn, when the box was lowered into the earth and sealed with a dirt blanket. He tugged at his father's sleeve as he pointed to the women. The boy let out a bright grin but his father gave a sad but odd smile and as the ceremony closed, the boy was guided away by his father's hand.

"Papa, the ladies were back again!"

"I know un jeune, they always sing at the funerals, and only for the people here in town. I'd say that they're the best singers here in Europe."

"They're very pretty papa. They have a pretty song…"

-HETALIA-

The police were having a riot in the investigations department, due to another person being found stone cold on the floor. It was a small albino boy from the school found with dozens of deep and bloody scratches across his face, torso, and neck. The townspeople were beginning to get worried. It was the second murder in the past three days and no one wanted to become the next victim. People scurried through the rainy weather on the muddy dirt streets quickly and quietly as they glanced nervously about, not wanting to become the next victim.

"Are we going back to the cemetery papa?"

"Yes mon petit. You want to pay your respects to Gilbert, don't you? That poor boy, being taken to le ciel while he was still so young…..now come along! The ceremony's going to start soon and you don't want to miss saying your goodbyes to your friend do you?"

"And the pretty song papa! I'll say goodbye to Gilbert and hear that pretty song again!"

-HETALIA-

It was late at night when his father heard a loud thud coming from across the house, and didn't think anything of it until an unnatural silence befell the house.

"Alfred? Matthew? Is everything alright?"

A torturous weight of dread filled his being when he didn't get an answer. He set down his dish towel and quickly walked to his oldest son's room. He paled and stood in terror as he stared at his oldest covered in blood with cuts adorning his body and his throat slashed. He felt to her knees and pulled Alfred to him and clutched the body tightly as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Alfred! Oh mon jeune héros!"

As he gasped for air, a shadow loomed over him and the corpse and he turned around wide eyed at his youngest standing in the doorway, wearing a smile and coated in blood on his hands, clothes, and face.

"Matthew! Mon petit! Are you alright, are you…"

"Papa, Alfred decided to help me! He helped me papa!"

The father's blood went cold as he saw the boy's hands gripping a large knife from the kitchen in his left hand.

"Papa, are you going to help me too? I wanna hear the pretty song again!"

A shriek filled the summer night air and the breeze carried an eerie melody over the countryside. It did not have any words, but it was haunting all the same.

So, let me review over some of the characters in order of mention:

Matthew: Canada

Father killed at battle: Britain

Other Father: France

Alfred: America

Old Man Yao: China

Gilbert: Prussia

Yes, I know that you all already know all of this but in case I needed to clarify! XD (edit: OMG. HOW THE HELL DID I NOT NOTICE THE MIX UP BETWEEN CHINA AND AMERICA? Well, that's what i get for doing this at midnight X_X))

mon petit = my little one

un jeune = young one

le ciel = heaven

mon jeune héros = my young hero