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hetalia2010-01-28 05:58 pm
zprussialy.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2010-01-28 05:58 pm
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[fanfic] The Lighthouse Keepers' Diary (5/?)
Title: The Lighthouse Keepers' Diary - Chapter 5: News
Author: zprussialy/ stringcatz
Characters: Canada, Prussia, mention of Russia
Rating: PG
Warnings: none, really, unless the mention of someone dying counts as a warning
Summary: Prussia and Canada, stranded on a cursed, haunted island. With a new theory about the curse, Prussia tries to escape the island... again.
link to fanfiction.net
Chapter 5: News
“So tell me again,” I said as I looked down at the maple syrup-drowned pancakes on the table in front of me. Matthew may be quiet and slightly annoying, but he was a great cook. “You’re saying that you think the diary is the thing that keeps all of the curses; if we destroy it, we’ll be able to leave?”
Matthew nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t know if it will work… but it’s worth a try.” He put down his fork on the now empty plate and looked up at me.
“Well then let’s go destroy it,” I said, standing up and walking out of the kitchen.
“A-are you sure we should do this…now?” he asked.
“Yes. Now get up; let’s go.” I walked over to the table and picked up the small tattered diary. Shortly after, Matthew walked into the room.
“How are you planning on doing this? I’m not sure if tearing the pages out will work; it won’t be completely destroyed.”
“Light the fireplace; I’m burning it. The only thing that will be left is ashes.”
“Gilbert, are you sure about this?” he asked again.
“Of course I am!” I answered. “Now light the fire!”
“Okay…” he said, walking towards the brick-walled fireplace in the room. As I flipped through the pages of the diary, Matthew attempted to light the logs in the fireplace with a book of matches that was beside it. A few minutes later, a small fire was growing. “I guess- I guess we should… burn it now.”
“Yeah.” I strode over to the fireplace, next to Matthew. “Okay… let’s do this.” Matthew nodded, and I tossed the book into the fire.
We waited.
We watched as the embers consumed the book.
“It… it worked!” the blonde exclaimed when the book appeared to be completely gone. “Maybe we can leave now! Maybe – “
He stopped talking as the fire turned a bright lime green color. Its glow filled the room with an eerie light. Just seconds later, the green light began to fade away.
Right before it was completely gone, a small shower of sparks sputtered out of the flame.
The diary flew out of the fire, hitting Matthew directly. He made a quiet, surprised sound as it fell into his hands.
“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The diary looked just the same as it had before, except it had a small scorched mark on the cover, and a trail of sparks leading around the book and down the edges of the pages. The trail ended before going around to the back cover.
Matthew turned the diary around in his hands a few times before opening it to the last page. The trail of sparks continued onto the page, forming a sentence on the otherwise blank paper.
This Diary Cannot Be Destroyed.
We turned to look at each other. Matthew’s eyes looked terrified, and I’m sure that mine were nothing short of terrified as well.
“It… it was burned… but… how did that happen?” Matthew asked. He closed the cover of the diary and set it down on the table.
“There must be a way to destroy it!” I said, taking the diary from the table. Matthew stared as I tore a page out of it. “Nothing’s… trying to kill me.”
“I-I guess not,” he replied, his voice shaking.
I smirked and started to tear up the page into tiny pieces. Nothing happened. I tore out another page. I ripped that up as well.
Just as I was about to toss the scraps into the fire, the diary (which I had set down on the table) flipped open to the last page; the one that previously had the fiery writing on it. “Gilbert… t-the diary…” Matthew said quietly.
“I noticed; thanks for pointing it out,” I replied sarcastically.
Black lettering began to appear on the blank page. Words were formed by the small scribbles. I started to read what they said and… and it was an exact copy of the page I ripped up. Everything was there. Every smudge, every letter, was exactly replicated. When the page finished writing itself, one additional line was written at the bottom of the page.
This doesn’t work either, keepers.
“I think we should give up, Gilbert.”
“…No!” I said as I closed the cover of the book. “I just need to know more about the curse; we can’t give up!”
“It-it won’t work. As far as I know, there aren’t any kind of ‘loopholes’ in it. We’re just going to be stuck here.”
“Well then I’m committing suicide.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Why the hell not!?”
“Because then I’ll be here alone again!”
“Why should I care?” I asked, staring out a window dejectedly. He had a point; living here alone forever would be a bit depressing.
“I-I don’t know. Please don’t, okay?”
“Fine. But I’m not going to give up. I need you to tell me everything you know about this island and the curse.” I looked back at the diary, and then at Matthew. He was staring at me. “Stop staring. I know I’m awesome and all, but it’s a little weird.”
“Huh?” he asked, sounding somewhat surprised. “O-oh, sorry. Okay, um…” I rolled my eyes as he walked over to the bookshelf and pulled a large leather-bound book from the shelves. “I suppose I should start with this.” He sat down in one of the chairs and flipped the book open to the last page. There was a newspaper article taped to the blank paper along with a short handwritten note. From where I was standing, I could not read it. “Look at this.”
Kneeling on the floor beside Matthew, I read the tiny, faded print of the article.
“On this day, June 19, 2007, the previous keeper of the Everwood Island lighthouse passed away. According to doctors at the local hospital, he died from a tragic accident in the lighthouse at the age of 47. There is no evidence of murder, the lighthouse’s owner says. Though the lighthouse seems to be cursed, Mr. Braginsky assures us that it is perfectly safe, and he is offering a job to the first person to call this phone number.”
“Yeah, so it’s a newspaper article. Why’s it important? And who’s Mr. Braginsky?” I asked.
“M-mr. Braginsky is the owner of the lighthouse. I don’t know much about him, though… I never actually met him. And it’s not just this that’s important, Gilbert,” he said as he flipped to the previous page. On this page was the same thing; a newspaper article and a handwritten note. I hadn’t bothered to read the note on the previous page, but this, written by the keeper before Matthew, was short, and said that he was given the cutout of the article by the man who brought him here by ferry. I read the article, and it said the same general thing, except with a different lighthouse keeper’s name.
I flipped the page back. Same article, same note.
Again. Same thing.
I looked up at Matthew. “This is on every page, isn’t it?”
He nodded his head slowly. “Yes.” He closed the book and opened it to the first page. This page had a newspaper as well; its edges were slightly torn and yellowed.
“And the person on the ferry gave you that newspaper article?”
“Yes.”
“That’s… weird,” I said. Matthew closed the book and handed it to me.
“It is.” He paused for a moment. “Could you put that back on the shelf for me?”
I sighed. “And why would I do that?”
“Because I saved your life?”
“…Shut up.” I stood up and walked back towards the shelf while Matthew opened the diary and started reading something from it. Just as I was about to shove the book into the narrow gap in the bookshelf, I noticed something a bit strange.
In the back of the bookshelf, there was a small piece of carved metal. It looked as if it was attached to the wood of the shelf, but there was a thin edge around it where there was no wood. In fact, it looked like a button.
“Hey Matthew, what’s this?” I asked as I pulled a couple books out of the shelf to make room for my hand.
“What’s what?” he asked, standing up and walking towards me.
“This… thing,” I said. Before Matthew could say anything else, I pushed the button with one finger.
It clicked quietly.
Matthew stood by my side, staring as the sound of metal grinding and clicking together emanated from behind the shelf. “What… is that?” he asked as the noise continued.
“I have no idea…” The clicking stopped completely, abruptly. There was a loud creak as the bookshelf swung forward like a door to reveal a completely darkened hallway.
“It’s a door…” Matthew whispered. “H-How did I never notice that?”
“I don’t’ know, but let’s go in,” I said, taking a step towards the door. Even on haunted islands, there’s always a reason for there to be a secret, hidden door.
Author: zprussialy/ stringcatz
Characters: Canada, Prussia, mention of Russia
Rating: PG
Warnings: none, really, unless the mention of someone dying counts as a warning
Summary: Prussia and Canada, stranded on a cursed, haunted island. With a new theory about the curse, Prussia tries to escape the island... again.
link to fanfiction.net
Chapter 5: News
“So tell me again,” I said as I looked down at the maple syrup-drowned pancakes on the table in front of me. Matthew may be quiet and slightly annoying, but he was a great cook. “You’re saying that you think the diary is the thing that keeps all of the curses; if we destroy it, we’ll be able to leave?”
Matthew nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t know if it will work… but it’s worth a try.” He put down his fork on the now empty plate and looked up at me.
“Well then let’s go destroy it,” I said, standing up and walking out of the kitchen.
“A-are you sure we should do this…now?” he asked.
“Yes. Now get up; let’s go.” I walked over to the table and picked up the small tattered diary. Shortly after, Matthew walked into the room.
“How are you planning on doing this? I’m not sure if tearing the pages out will work; it won’t be completely destroyed.”
“Light the fireplace; I’m burning it. The only thing that will be left is ashes.”
“Gilbert, are you sure about this?” he asked again.
“Of course I am!” I answered. “Now light the fire!”
“Okay…” he said, walking towards the brick-walled fireplace in the room. As I flipped through the pages of the diary, Matthew attempted to light the logs in the fireplace with a book of matches that was beside it. A few minutes later, a small fire was growing. “I guess- I guess we should… burn it now.”
“Yeah.” I strode over to the fireplace, next to Matthew. “Okay… let’s do this.” Matthew nodded, and I tossed the book into the fire.
We waited.
We watched as the embers consumed the book.
“It… it worked!” the blonde exclaimed when the book appeared to be completely gone. “Maybe we can leave now! Maybe – “
He stopped talking as the fire turned a bright lime green color. Its glow filled the room with an eerie light. Just seconds later, the green light began to fade away.
Right before it was completely gone, a small shower of sparks sputtered out of the flame.
The diary flew out of the fire, hitting Matthew directly. He made a quiet, surprised sound as it fell into his hands.
“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The diary looked just the same as it had before, except it had a small scorched mark on the cover, and a trail of sparks leading around the book and down the edges of the pages. The trail ended before going around to the back cover.
Matthew turned the diary around in his hands a few times before opening it to the last page. The trail of sparks continued onto the page, forming a sentence on the otherwise blank paper.
This Diary Cannot Be Destroyed.
We turned to look at each other. Matthew’s eyes looked terrified, and I’m sure that mine were nothing short of terrified as well.
“It… it was burned… but… how did that happen?” Matthew asked. He closed the cover of the diary and set it down on the table.
“There must be a way to destroy it!” I said, taking the diary from the table. Matthew stared as I tore a page out of it. “Nothing’s… trying to kill me.”
“I-I guess not,” he replied, his voice shaking.
I smirked and started to tear up the page into tiny pieces. Nothing happened. I tore out another page. I ripped that up as well.
Just as I was about to toss the scraps into the fire, the diary (which I had set down on the table) flipped open to the last page; the one that previously had the fiery writing on it. “Gilbert… t-the diary…” Matthew said quietly.
“I noticed; thanks for pointing it out,” I replied sarcastically.
Black lettering began to appear on the blank page. Words were formed by the small scribbles. I started to read what they said and… and it was an exact copy of the page I ripped up. Everything was there. Every smudge, every letter, was exactly replicated. When the page finished writing itself, one additional line was written at the bottom of the page.
This doesn’t work either, keepers.
“I think we should give up, Gilbert.”
“…No!” I said as I closed the cover of the book. “I just need to know more about the curse; we can’t give up!”
“It-it won’t work. As far as I know, there aren’t any kind of ‘loopholes’ in it. We’re just going to be stuck here.”
“Well then I’m committing suicide.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Why the hell not!?”
“Because then I’ll be here alone again!”
“Why should I care?” I asked, staring out a window dejectedly. He had a point; living here alone forever would be a bit depressing.
“I-I don’t know. Please don’t, okay?”
“Fine. But I’m not going to give up. I need you to tell me everything you know about this island and the curse.” I looked back at the diary, and then at Matthew. He was staring at me. “Stop staring. I know I’m awesome and all, but it’s a little weird.”
“Huh?” he asked, sounding somewhat surprised. “O-oh, sorry. Okay, um…” I rolled my eyes as he walked over to the bookshelf and pulled a large leather-bound book from the shelves. “I suppose I should start with this.” He sat down in one of the chairs and flipped the book open to the last page. There was a newspaper article taped to the blank paper along with a short handwritten note. From where I was standing, I could not read it. “Look at this.”
Kneeling on the floor beside Matthew, I read the tiny, faded print of the article.
“On this day, June 19, 2007, the previous keeper of the Everwood Island lighthouse passed away. According to doctors at the local hospital, he died from a tragic accident in the lighthouse at the age of 47. There is no evidence of murder, the lighthouse’s owner says. Though the lighthouse seems to be cursed, Mr. Braginsky assures us that it is perfectly safe, and he is offering a job to the first person to call this phone number.”
“Yeah, so it’s a newspaper article. Why’s it important? And who’s Mr. Braginsky?” I asked.
“M-mr. Braginsky is the owner of the lighthouse. I don’t know much about him, though… I never actually met him. And it’s not just this that’s important, Gilbert,” he said as he flipped to the previous page. On this page was the same thing; a newspaper article and a handwritten note. I hadn’t bothered to read the note on the previous page, but this, written by the keeper before Matthew, was short, and said that he was given the cutout of the article by the man who brought him here by ferry. I read the article, and it said the same general thing, except with a different lighthouse keeper’s name.
I flipped the page back. Same article, same note.
Again. Same thing.
I looked up at Matthew. “This is on every page, isn’t it?”
He nodded his head slowly. “Yes.” He closed the book and opened it to the first page. This page had a newspaper as well; its edges were slightly torn and yellowed.
“And the person on the ferry gave you that newspaper article?”
“Yes.”
“That’s… weird,” I said. Matthew closed the book and handed it to me.
“It is.” He paused for a moment. “Could you put that back on the shelf for me?”
I sighed. “And why would I do that?”
“Because I saved your life?”
“…Shut up.” I stood up and walked back towards the shelf while Matthew opened the diary and started reading something from it. Just as I was about to shove the book into the narrow gap in the bookshelf, I noticed something a bit strange.
In the back of the bookshelf, there was a small piece of carved metal. It looked as if it was attached to the wood of the shelf, but there was a thin edge around it where there was no wood. In fact, it looked like a button.
“Hey Matthew, what’s this?” I asked as I pulled a couple books out of the shelf to make room for my hand.
“What’s what?” he asked, standing up and walking towards me.
“This… thing,” I said. Before Matthew could say anything else, I pushed the button with one finger.
It clicked quietly.
Matthew stood by my side, staring as the sound of metal grinding and clicking together emanated from behind the shelf. “What… is that?” he asked as the noise continued.
“I have no idea…” The clicking stopped completely, abruptly. There was a loud creak as the bookshelf swung forward like a door to reveal a completely darkened hallway.
“It’s a door…” Matthew whispered. “H-How did I never notice that?”
“I don’t’ know, but let’s go in,” I said, taking a step towards the door. Even on haunted islands, there’s always a reason for there to be a secret, hidden door.
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*shot*
Can't wait for the next update. =D
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Might be a little while, but I am working on it~!
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