Look, a new story! Even though I have so many others to finish. But, my friend has been pushing me to write this for her since... well, forever. Hopefully putting this up here will force me to write more, I'll see how that goes.

Disclaimer (do I really need to put this anymore): I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters

Every country has its own lore about demons. They are portrayed as heartless creatures, living only to wreck havoc on the world. However, no matter where you go, one thing seems to remain the same...

Their eyes. Bright, fiery red eyes. They were the eyes of a predator, a very dangerous predator. But no one has ever tried to look past those scorching red irises; no one but me. How I managed it is still a mystery, but I learned to love those eyes, and the demon that they belonged to.

I remember every single time I encountered him, the "Diable" as everyone in town called him. Why he chose to come to me of all people is yet another mystery. But, as I said before, I remember each and every second like it was yesterday…

France, 1873

Downstairs, I heard the stomp of feet, the faint clink of drinking glasses, and several fits of laughter. Even through the walls, the sounds of the dinner party below me were still quite clear. All the adults seemed to be enjoying themselves with activities that either involved dancing or just simply gossiping with each other about the other nobles. I even recognized my own father's voice, who was also having a good time, and he was probably the happiest he had ever been since my mother's passing a few months ago.

But no matter what, it never ceased to amaze me how dull dinner parties could be. Of course there were other children my age there that I could socialize with, but most of them were just as boring and stuck up as their parents. Even with my father's frequent pestering about how I would have to attend parties such as this on a regular basis in order to become a "proper noble", I still snuck away the second he took his eyes off me. Not like it mattered that much; no one really noticed my presence anyways.

I don't blame people for not seeing me though; I was awfully scrawny for a nine-year-old, with a mop of light blonde hair and a strange stray curl that I could never get to cooperate with the rest of my hair. My eyes were the only thing that ever stood out, being a glossy violet color that my father described as looking exactly like my mother's. But, I have to admit that all these traits helped me escape from several pointless events that I always got dragged to.

Nevertheless, I
couldn't help but feel a little guilty for abandoning the guests downstairs. After releasing a groan of protest and stealing one last peak at the snowy night, I crawled off the little alcove under the window. There was one thing that did manage to catch my attention though; for a second, I would have sworn that I saw a figure standing outside.

"D-don't be silly, Ma-Matthew. It's t-too cold for anyone to be wa-wandering around at th-this time of n-night." My normal stutter became much worse as I whispered reassuringly to myself, hoping to forget any thoughts I had heard about burglars or murderers roaming about. Yet, it didn't work very well. I still had that eerie feeling that someone, or something, was watching me.

I turned around cautiously, expecting something to jump out at any moment. In front of me, there was the same room that I knew so well; not one thing was out of place. I never realized that I had been holding my breath until I felt my lungs exhale a relieved sigh.

"Se-see? Nothing to worry about." I smiled softly, as my fear vanished, so did the annoying speech impairment.

Everything else happened in a matter of seconds. My window burst open, the freezing night air chilling me down to the bone. The few candles that I had lit were instantly extinguished, and now lay strewn across the cold wood floor.

The party below me came to a halt. Faint murmurs of confusion were still present-possibly because the lights in the parlor had also been blown out- but aside from that everything was deathly quiet.

A single horrified screech could be heard in the sudden silence, echoing throughout the entire house. At first I thought it was me, but the shrill cry was much too high for me to make. That was definitely a woman's scream.

More screams arose, coming from both men and women now. Almost instinctively, I ran down the hall, trying to reach the steps. I stopped only when I reached the railing, glancing over to see that none of the guests have left the main hall. But I could hear their voices through the door. There were pleas for help, cries for mercy, and desperate pounds against the solid door that would not let them free.

Then there was nothing.

Silence.

Two options popped into my head at that moment. I could run back and hide; hoping that whatever was going on would pass… or I could continue on and investigate for myself. Although it was much less favorable, I somehow choose the latter.

Caution didn't seem like much of an issue anymore, so I took the steps down two at a time, my bare feet creating muffled thuds. I made sure to approach the door slowly, studying the blank slab carefully until I knew for certain that whatever was inside didn't decide to come out. Shivers were shot down my spine when my hand made contact with the cold doorknob. It was just one simple turn-

A firm hand clasped around my mouth, concealing the pathetic squeal that escaped my lips. Dozens of emotions flooded me all at once; fear, anger, regret, and everything in between. Everything that people felt in the moments before they died.

I waited for pain, for the sharp blade to slice my throat or for the second hand to reach up and twist my neck, making my demise quick.

What really came was a laugh; a weak chuckle that shook my whole being. I knew that I would always remember that sweet, yet wicked sound.

"Now I wouldn't go in there if I were you." The figure behind me cooed devilishly into my ear.

The person (whose deep voice meant that it was most certainly a man) suddenly released me, but the hand covering my mouth lingered briefly, allowing the man to bring a single finger to my lips. A sign to keep quiet. If anything, I was good at remaining soundless.

Somehow, the mystery man slipped in front of me and opened the door just wide enough for him to slide inside. Knowing that I was still prepared to follow, he swiftly shut the only entrance into the main hall.

I didn't get the chance to catch so much as a glimpse at his face.

I wasn't sure if I should be terrified or thankful for the lack of sound, but after my encounter with the strange man, I felt oddly at ease. I actually believed that the man knew what he was doing, or that he would at least try to help.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" The distinct voice of the man standing by me earlier lashed out harshly. In response there was an angry hiss and the loud crack of wood shattering.

By now, curiosity got the best of me as I reached up to the doorknob a second time. My fingers barely brushed the icy metal when the door swung open, revealing a gruesome sight that would haunt my dreams for years to come.

Over a dozen people, all the party guests, lay dead on the floor, their blood coating the ground and painting the walls. Their bodies were torn apart, as if a rabid animal got loose. Few of the deceased were even recognizable. I was too in shock, too terrified to scream at this animalistic display.

In the middle of the massacre, my father was lying face down, not moving. My legs unfroze themselves, allowing me to run to still figure and drop to my knees beside him.

"Fa-father! Please wake u-up! P-plea-please…" I whined hopelessly, tears forming in my eyes. I couldn't lose my only parent now; not like this.

It's just a dream. I thought to myself, trying to wipe this clean from my mind. You'll wake up soon and this will all be over.

"It's about time you decided to come join the party, Matthew." Another man's voice. This one was calm and confident, and it somehow sounded familiar. "Oh, but don't worry, your dear father is still very much alive."

I heard the sound of his shoes threading across the bloodied floor, but I didn't dare turn around to face him. I shut me eyes tightly, trying to wake myself up for this nightmare. However, the footsteps only got closer and closer.

"I don't want to die…"

Those were such horrible last words.

Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I promise the next chapter will be up shortly! (within the next week at least). Not much to say, but keep reading please!

*Diable- the French word for "devil"