Italy x Mute!Reader (HetaOni)

By xatouchofrostx

3.5K 97 56

*This story is discontinued on this account. It has and will be updated on my new account, @preciousprattle* ... More

author's note
1- not again
2- running away
3- the piano room
brief author's note
pictures (not a chapter)
STORY TO BE UPLOADED ON NEW ACCOUNT

prologue

587 15 13
By xatouchofrostx


(*The image does not belong to me. All credit for it belongs to its respective owner*)

A/N: I don't like the beginning that much, but I think it gets a little better as you continue :)

Also, please note:
~Reader-chan is not actually "mute". You will learn more about this later in the story, but for now, just know she wasn't born that way and simply doesn't speak after an accident she had. You will learn a little about that accident in this part.

~Please understand that even though the reader is you, you will also learn more about the reader and her life within the mansion as the story progresses. This is a story after all :) But you will be able to put your own features and traits into the story with the use of bits like (e/c) [eye color], (h/c) [hair color], and, of course, (F/n) [first name] as well as with other strategies, and the reader will be portrayed broadly so as to adjust to each uniquely individual reader <3

~Curse words are censored [ex: "this (censored)hole"]. I may change that later.
~The italicized lines toward the end (of this chapter) are quotes from HetaOni. The italics within the story (excluding Author's Notes) are either reader-chan's thoughts, words she mouths or signs (since she cannot speak), words she writes down (if also centered or within quotation marks) or quotes from Hetalia or HetaOni.

Notice some parallelism between reader-chan and Italia?

Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think.

__

You had lived in that mansion for as long as you can remember.

     It was your parents that came here with a group of friends. One by one, they watched them die, and could do nothing about it. Soon it was just your father and your pregnant mother, somehow avoiding the monster long enough to make a secret room and give birth to you.

At your birth, your parents were overcome with newfound determination. If they didn't survive, then so be it- but they were going to get you out no matter what.

That was what they believed, anyway. Years passed and you grew up strong, quick, clever, a lamb in a den of lions. Your parents lasted longer than any of the others, you were sure. You were taught to hope, taught to smile and laugh despite all your hardships. You would be fine as long as your parents were beside you. And someday, you would escape.

But then it happened.

The monster slaughtered them right in front of you. Blood everywhere. You screamed, but there was only silence.

It choked you, hurt you, beyond the hurt of repair. You weren't able to speak from then on- from physical or mental trauma you couldn't be sure.

But you escaped.

That was all you knew to do, of course. This seemed like what you were born to do- run, fight, survive. Even if you were alone.

All... alone...

You came up with a plan. Filled with rage, you attacked the king of the monsters, the one who had killed your parents, with so much ferocity, you almost killed it, despite your young age. That began a series of non-stop battles.

Once upon a time, you were scared. But now, you tossed that aside. This is what your parents would of wanted. So you would fulfill their wish.

Days, months, perhaps years, passed. Neither of you would falter in your attack or drive. At this point, you knew something was off.

You were young. Heck, you weren't even a teenager yet, and still, you could almost beat this thing each time? No, it didn't make sense.

No.

It was... playing with you. Was this some sort of twisted game? Were you its toy?

Of course it could kill you. It could've killed you along with your parents if it wanted. But it had something much worse in store for you...

For a long while, you were at a standstill. You had give up on fighting each other, and the monsters just seemed to turn away each time it saw you. You soon began doing the same. You vowed to use time to get stronger... and then...

Time passes. A battle or two was fought, but not won. You thought up a plan to get rid of it for good. But suddenly-

The front door opened. In walked a chattering group of young adults, smiles on their faces. The dull, dreary house was filled with life once more. For a second, you felt a twinge of hope.

Then the door slammed shut.

All the blood drained from your face. Screams filled the air. You were filled with dread again.

You ran to them in panic, but it was too late.

Then it happened again.

And again.

It seemed to you that this house had always been filled with screams. Was this how it was before you were born? Had someone survived as long as you only to die in another, painful way? Had they been faced to watch new people come in, growing close to them, promising to escape together, only to watch them die before their very eyes?

Over and over and over again?

Was this your punishment? What had you done to deserve this? What did the creature want from you? Was it something you did? Because you survived for so long? Surely it was a punishment worse than death.

Again and again you tried to save them. Only to have your heart shatter when you failed.

How many times will I be allowed to make mistakes?

How many more times will I have to tell the same lies?

How many more times will I have to watch my friends die?

This time it was your turn to scream. The sound was so loud it filled the house and seemed to shake the very walls. Or perhaps it was just the trembling of your body that made it seem this way, along with the screams echoing inside your head, despite the cold silence.

It only laughed.

YoU...WOn't...ESc...aPe...!

Continue Reading

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