- Sweet Sacrifice [Originally: To The Underworld We Go] -

Made an amazing reponse... power went out...was to disappointed to rewrite a good one.. -__- FML...

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Berwald ran a hand through his blood speckled hair and let out a breath at the Russian’s questions, “Umm.. I don’t know.. You just do it because it’s what you desire..”

The Swede honestly had no idea.. He himself had always just hid the most of it to use for pure strength advantage and ability’s later on. It was the reason he kept calm and didn’t let some things get to him even before the change happened.

“Think of mortality appearances, I guess?” he added quickly while stealing a quick look at the nerve racked French.

I wonder what’s got him bugged..

The demon watched with an amused smirk as the French man pulled anxiously on the collar of his shirt. He was certain Francis was finally aware of what was happening and what would happen. No further explanation was needed. Alfred was exhausted by his alliance to these people, but he craved to feel their fear. It intoxicated him, that moment when they realized he would have what he wanted; their blood and their humanity. He had already succeeded at stripping Ivan of those two sacred items. Francis was next, and finally, that seemed to have sunk in for the French man. Once his allies were all like him, they would conquer. It wouldn't be easy, given their reluctance to join his side and the people who would try to stop them, but with patience...and strength, they would be victorious.

Alfred stretched his wings and with a running start, took off from the rooftop and moved toward the building. With speed and accuracy, he crashed through the window, surely startling anyone the Swedish man had brought here for refuge. Alfred had purposely aimed for Francis, his massive form colliding with the human's weak one. Together, they slammed into the next wall, the impact strong enough to leave the human unconscious for the necessary amount of time to get him away from these fools and bitten.

But Alfred stood away from him long enough to take out any threat within this room. He paid any angel little attention. The threat was the Swedish man, who Alfred had turned to face. "You're a pretty little git, aren't you?" He hissed before lunging at him. He clawed at his face, nails tearing into his flesh and ridding him of the glasses he wore. Afterward, he firmly shoved him to the floor, already moving back to retrieve his French ally. He had paid no attention to his new fledgling.

Until now, of course. Once he had a firm grip on Francis, he turned to face Ivan and looked him in the eye. "You don't look too happy, Ivan." He smirked. "Got yourself bitten, did you? Well, if you want my honest opinion...the look of a demon suits you. It'll suit Francis, too..." He chuckled darkly, hovering off the floor and heading back out the window he had crashed through.

"If you want to save him, you know what you're going to have to do. You'll have to embrace your demonic side. Once your willing to do that, come find me." With that, he left the window. But a single glance back at the Russian told Ivan Alfred was challenging him. He wanted him to follow now. The sooner they placed their bickering aside and Ivan accepted his fate, the closer they'd be to world domination.

FAIL REPLY FAILS


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The shattering of a window and the acrid smell of blood was not what the Canadian would have ever dreamed of waking up to. Her body remained weak from using her powers on Ivan and all her senses were jumbled, only gradually beginning to come together. She groaned quietly, memories rushing back to her head...

Ivan...he's succumbed to darker powers... Berwald..something isn't quite right about him... Francis...why is he unconscious..? Alfred..- Alfred? Wait..Francis, Ivan, Berwald, and Alfred? That means... Everything seemed to hit the Canadian at once. She sat bolt upright, taking a gasping breath with wide lavender eyes.

"FRANCIS!!" It was as if the girl's strength returned to her in that single moment, a holy light burning in her chest. Someone she loved very dearly was in terrible danger. She was a guardian angel. She had no time to lie around and let her angelic powers slip away. She had to save the Frenchman before the Russian embraced his demonic being.

Marguerite pulled herself to her feet, her heavenly appearance restoring itself. Her eyes snapped harshly to Ivan's, knowing that Berwald wouldn't be of much help in his newly injured condition. "Ivan. Don't do as Alfred says. It's a trap! You don't want to give into this do you? Stay here and watch over him.." She flicked her gaze to the Swede before turning to the broken window. "I have to save Francis..."

Without further comment, the angel dashed out of the open window, white wings at their full capacity as she sped to catch up with her demonic brother. In a few seconds, his dark mass came into view, Francis hanging limply with him. Something snapped inside the fragile girl at the sight of that. Without thinking, she acted on impulse, landing a mid-air drop-kick on Alfred's back. "Alfred! Let. Him. Go!"

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Francis knew well enough that he would be the next target, one of the view reasons why the Frenchman was so on edge. He was the only human nation left, besides the Chinese man, who hadn't given an appearance whatsoever. With Alfred already having submitted to his darkest side, Ivan and Arthur were the last two that had been successfully turned into the vile creature Alfred had become. The Frenchman figured Ivan hadn't done so willingly, though he wasn't so sure about Arthur. The mere thought that it was he that Alfred was most likely coming for had made a shiver run up Francis' spine.

To be frank, it was rather uncomfortable to think of, knowing more or less the demon's cruel intentions. Francis had betrayed Alfred ever sense their encounter in Alfred's demonic state, fleeing on impulse, only to be caught; the Frenchman, overall, wanted nothing to do with Alfred, as long as he was taking such a hellish path-for who knows how long.

Yet, the American's abrupt appearance, crashing in through the window, had indeed struck Francis with alarm. But it was when the Frenchman realized what; or rather, who, Alfred was aiming at, did the fear truly sink in-giving Francis a horrible, sick feeling wrenching in the pit of his stomach.

Having little, to no time to properly react, Francis felt that cruel, icy grip of terror cruelly twist inside him, making his blood run cold as the demon slammed into him against the wall. He could only utter a shocked, strangled yelp of fear, just briefly glimpsing the American demon one final time. The strong impact, as it was intended, knocked the Frenchman unconscious in a mere instant, blue eyes flickering weakly closed. The Frenchman went limp in Alfred's grip, even as the American took off with him; only time would tell how long it would be before Francis awoke, yet it was clear Francis' wouldn't at all wake up without letting his fear get the best of him.

That is, if one called awakening to the spine-chilling sight of a demon...pleasant.

Dieu, aie pitié.

Ivan uttered a vague sigh at Berwald's response, yet attempted to settle back down against the scratched arm chair.

The Russian's eyes closed as he forced himself to relax. He wanted these blasted features gone.. at least for the time being. He tuned out the noise of the world as he just focused on the sound of his own pulse pounding irritably in his ears. After an unknown number if drawn-out minutes, humanized figure came to mind... was this what Berwald meant? Ivan needed silence to keep this vision intact. Ivan felt his wings shudder on their own. He was close... so close….

CRASH

Ivan nearly stumbled out of the seat at the sheer ferocity of the ambush. He spun around in the chair just in time to see Berwald being attacked and Alfred was nearing the window.

"You don't look too happy, Ivan."

Ivan gave a light growl at that and gripped the back of the chair. His lengthened nails dug mercilessly into the wooden frame. Ivan was in a pretty good position to strike if he found the chance…

Should he attack? The Russian's irises flipped from Alfred to the limp French in his arms No... Alfred could kill Francis right then and there... besides, Just one miscalculation, and Ivan could send all three of them out the window. The Russian flexed his wings; Learning to fly during a quarrel didn’t sound too appealing; Alfred would defiantly have the upper hand in that one. Ivan was forced to remain where he was, listing with great irritability to the American’s speaking. Embrace his fate? Tch… this wasn’t going to be his fate.

Not if he could help it.

That challenging stare seemed to send a shock wave of artificial energy surging through his limbs. Ivan snarled and sprang up and over the back of the chair as Alfred made his exit through the window with his ally. However, he skidded to a halt at the edge of the window at the angel’s voice. What was he doing, anyway? It’s not like he could fly, or at least he didn’t think so. With a frustrated air, the Russian backed up and anxiously watched as the angel made her first strike at the demon.

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wow. lame reply. way to go, Ivan.

The smell of an angel lingered. Alfred made a look of distaste, turning his head left and right to sight the disgusting creature; however, he was unprepared for her to come from above. How ironic, he thought as she slammed her foot into his back. He released a startled cry, the top of his wing bending and momentarily losing the ability to move. He spiraled downward, holding Francis close to his body. Falling to the ground would do little damage to his body, but it would surely kill Francis upon impact. "Swell," The demon hissed beneath his breath, holding tightly to Francis as he attempted getting his wing to move. He was truly tired of all these men, women, and angels attempting to ruin everything. He would no longer play nice.

Eventually, he managed to fix his wing in mid-fall and caught himself before he would fall to the ground. As he met the dirt path, he laid Francis upon the ground and kicked back off, spiraling upward toward the angel who dared to fight him. As he spun, a mix of raven and violet flames surrounded his form. He released an intimidating snarl, the demonic sound completely masking any humanity that might be left within the mind of the American. He was moving at an unstoppable speed, claws lengthening just before he collided with the angel. Ramming into her had knocked his breath out, chest tightening uncomfortably. However, once the pain filtered out, he took hold of her throat and slammed her to the side of a building within the city. He held her there, chest rising and falling quickly from the anger and frustration he was feeling.

"You're rather tiny for someone trying to pose as a threat to me." He hissed in her face, a maniacal look breaking out within his gaze. "Which do you chose to lose first? You're pretty little head or your wings?"

The demon did not seem fazed by her question. He glared endlessly, but make no mistake. She had managed to make him falter by calling out to what little humanity he had left. With a loud, startled cry that pierced the air, he pulled back the hand he had been holding her with. He grasped it with the hand that went unharmed, observing the melting flesh with distaste. "Don't call me that," He managed through the pain, glaring up at her through his eyelashes. "Alfred does not exist anymore. Clearly, if he did, his little sister would have no trouble deciding whose side she'd take!" He snapped in her face, being mere seconds away from biting into her cursed flesh. However, he was no fool.

He trembled with rage, attempting to focus on something else and not the horrid smell of an angel she possessed. "Why have you not chosen me?" He asked in a whisper, wounded hand moving to her face. With a single claw, he moved a strand of her hair away from her mouth, tucking it back where it should be. "Why can't Alfred's own family understand the benefit of what he is doing? So many complained about his country, so many called him lazy...and yet, the moment he is chosen to fix the real issue at hand, everyone wants him back. He meant nothing to everyone. So, don't give me your worthless pity and pretend like he was some hero!"

Being so close, he wanted nothing more than to taste the blood that ran through her and to sink his teeth into the welcoming flesh, but he could not. He moved his lips toward her ear, whispering, "If he meant so much to you, join me. Join me and I will make a bargain for his life. Or don't you know? What is left of his humane side is currently being tortured in Hell. If anything is to happen to me..." The demon paused to let loose a chilling, but quiet laughter into her ear. "You might as well be prepared to say you murdered your own brother."

It was hard to say if the demon was telling the truth or not. He gave no illusion that he may be lying, but...it would depend on the angel's heart.

The demon glanced up as the angel raised herself to the corner of the deserted building. He no longer feared her doing anything that might endanger his life. In fact, he knew she wouldn't harm him - not anymore than she already had. He took a single glance at his wounded hand, noticing the seared flesh was already molding itself back together. Healing was a trait he'd trade for nothing, but it came with a price. It was painful whenever his skin had to quickly reproduce itself or a bone had to be fixed. Nevertheless, he didn't seemed fazed by the light stinging that accompanied his healing process and merely stared at his hand out of boredom with her.

However, when she began speaking, he glanced up at her a second time and kept his gaze upon her petite, angelic form. His eyes narrowed as she began to speak, uncertain where she was going with this little speech of hers. If she was trying to get him to soften up, he wouldn't. This was a matter of keeping Alfred's humanity intact, not setting him free and ending this need for world dominance. He would not fall for this trick, but he twitched upon hearing her deem him a hero. Alfred was no hero, as many failed to realize. Heroes were capable of saving anyone and anything; on numerous occasions, Alfred had failed to do either of those things, even after going as far as to promise he would. What a waste of humanity that man was, the demon thought.

He took a step back when she reached for his hand, certain she'd pull another nasty trick on him, but she did not. He listened, but she was a bloody fool to think he'd start to understand her. If she would not join him, she meant nothing to him. He jerked his hand away from her grasp, glaring endlessly into her innocent jewels of violet. "If you missed him as much as you claim, you would have agreed to my offer. You're an idiot, like the rest of those who are resisting both my power and the man above me. I swear to you, if I cannot succeed at what has been asked of me, I will succeed at one thing..." He took four steps and he closed the distance between them, taking advantage of her letting him touch her without any pain. He grasped her jaw roughly within his hand, the tips of his claws pressing hard against her skin. "And that is, I will succeed at killing Alfred. He will be no more and you'll have to live with your regret for the rest of your little life, however long that might be." He hissed in her face, shoving against her and pushing her away from him.

Make no mistake, the demon had seen the Russian down below. In fact, he had noticed him from the corner of his eye while the angel spoke to him. Perhaps, the Russian had made an agreement with the angel and asked her to be a distraction for him. That plan would no longer work. The demon snapped his fingers, unleashing a great amount of his power to set this entire building on fire, encasing himself and angel within a dome of it. "My intention is not to kill you, but to watch you squirm. There's only one way out and that would be to kiss my flames." He chuckled darkly before kicking off the roof and doing an immediate U-turn within the sky, heading straight for the other demon who carried his French ally.

He moved swiftly, growling loudly from the direction he was coming as to let the other demon hear him before he was capable of seeing him. He wrecked into him, jabbing him roughly with his elbow and using enough force to knock him off his feet. Certain this would render him taken by surprise, Alfred stepped over to him and ripped Francis from him, shoving the human's worthless body to the side. He would be nothing until he became a demon.

"How pitiful. A fledgling thinking he is capable of resisting his creator. Just whose side do you think you're on?" He asked the Russian between his teeth, standing above him, but grasping hold of his neck with a single hand. He began to laugh darkly at Ivan, tongue sweeping against his bottom lip as if he were considering taking a bite of him. "I shouldn't have doubted you. Alfred spent an awful amount of time thinking about you - I thought it would be simple; getting you to join my side, but oh no. You plan on making yourself a challenge all over again, don't you? You made the idiotic humane side of him work for it and now you're going to make me do the same. However, here's the difference between him and I..." He paused to lower himself more while still standing above him, eyes narrowing quite dangerously. "I do not have the patience, Braginski and I will not take no for answer. Give into both your new body...and me."

The entire time, naturally, Francis had remained unconscious, completely oblivious to the demon and the angel’s confrontation, let alone that he’d been carried off by the Russian ally. If he’d been awake, surely the Frenchman would have panicked; for, this was the last situation he wanted to catch himself in. The impact of hitting the wall early due to the demon’s abrupt appearance had indeed knocked Francis out for quite a while, however it seemed as though that time was up. After being yanked away from Ivan, the Frenchman lay on the concrete floor, having been thrown so carelessly; he was motionless, utterly limp, enough for one to possibly mistake him as dead if they hadn't noticed his rising and falling chest to signal that Francis was still breathing.

However, it a few moments after being thrown aside, it didn't take long for the Frenchman to stir; just faintly. A soft, quiet groan escaped Francis’ barely parted lips, feeling a horrible throbbing at the back of his head. His whole body felt sore and battered, as if the strength had been drained from the Frenchman’s body. It took Francis’ remaining strength to simply flicker open his now dull, blue eyes, just partly, to see the blurry images of the American and Russian demon.

Mon dieu..where..where am I…? Who…oh, n-non..Ivan…Alfred?

Dazed, Francis attempted to shift slightly, muscles aching in dull pain as he just barely managed to sit up, feeling a wave of fatigue rush over him, causing the Frenchman to nearly slump back down to the floor. He quivered, forcing himself to stay upright as he shakily ran a hand through his ruffled hair, blinking a few times to get the blurriness out of his eyes, enough to see the two demons clearly.

Slowly but surely, the memories came creeping back; waiting with Berwald and Ivan, Alfred bursting through the wall and slamming into him, enough to knock him unconscious for who-knows-how-long. Deciding it was best not to dwell on how long it had been, Francis felt a twinge of panic, quickly checking himself over. He gave a faint sigh of relief as he finally took notice that he was still human, and overall, unharmed. However, a thought crossed his mind; surely, this was the least of his problems. Glancing up slightly and eyeing the two demons, Francis stiffened; his impulse decision was to turn and run from the fight, or at least slip away while he could, while Alfred had Ivan in his grasp..

Wait. Non. I already betrayed Ivan once...

Francis recalled he and the demonic American’s first confrontation, in which Alfred had successfully gotten the terrified Frenchman to call up and set up a false meeting place with the Russian at the threat of Francis’ life. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and Francis had chosen to give in and betray his ally. While the Frenchman seemed to be the only human ally left, he knew well that while his humanity was at stake, Ivan had already been stripped of it and changed according to the demon’s plans, though Francis figured that the Russian wouldn’t give in to his demonic side too soon; easily, at least. The Frenchman wasn’t the only one who had his life at risk, and the lingering thought drifted into his mind.

I won’t betray him again. Not this time. I have to stop running for once.

Francis hesitated, before he just barely managed to stagger to his feet, needing to lean against the wall of the alley for support. Casting a glance at the two demons, the Frenchman’s eyes narrowed just a bit as he caught the American demon’s words.

"I do not have the patience, Braginski and I will not take no for answer. Give into both your new body...and me."

The Frenchman bit his lip, shutting his eyes for a moment before they flickered back open, managing a weak glare toward Alfred. Don’t give in, Ivan. You know better, mon ami.

“Let him go.”

WARNING: Hearts may be shattered by this post, but it is not the end! :U Meg will return soon and your poor little vampire may yet return to face her foes! So, I urge you my friends, READ ON. (even though it's short and terrible asdfghjkl;)

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There was an uneasy silence as the life had at last begun to ebb from the Transylvanian's aqueous gaze like the very blood that now pooled on the ground beneath her. Tears, not all her own, moistened her cheeks and caused her lashes to flutter absentmindedly while the edges of her vision dipped into blackness. Initially she was confused. She had nearly forgotten the poor degree of her physical state since the stunning numbness had taken over her still-trembling form. But as soon as she remembered- as soon as she recalled the horrid sight behind her cousin's tears- a massive wave of guilt overtook her.

"Gil? Gil.. I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." Fresh tears streamed from the corners of her eyes while she addressed him, voice cracking with every word she tried to squeeze out. "T-this.. this is all my fa-" Her words ceased due to a second fit of blood drawing coughing, this time, much more ferocious than the last.

As if by instinct, her attention then focused itself on the girl kneeling at her side. In a last gesture of apology, Viorica gingerly grasped Ayaka's hand, closing her eyes to deliver the child a saddened smile. "..I should have been protecting you... I wish.. it didn't have to be this way..."

Her head rolled back between the two of them, eyelids comfortably shut just as they had been countless times before, imagining the map of the stars above in her head. Thus, she breathed a final breath.

"Thank you... for believing in me."