Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

The next morning, Poland woke up with a sense of uneasiness, even though there was no ground for it. He hadn't heard anything, and Faroes would've sent for help if something had happened. So he didn't know why his first instinct was to check on the night watch. As he opened the door, a hand clasped onto his shoulder. He spun around, only to find Sister Denmark, bleary-eyed and in a moderately disheveled state.

"Hey, Poland."

"Good morning?" he responded, a little confused.

"Have you seen my brother? He didn't join us for our victory celebration, which is highly unusual."

"No, I haven't. I was just going to check on Faroes."

"I'll come with. It's better than sleeping in the position I was in."

As they walked towards the perimeter wall, Sister Denmark glanced over at the fretful Poland. She frowned. "Are you expecting something? Did something happen that you're not telling me?"

"I don't know," he said. "It's just a gut feeling I have. Something feels wrong."

They reached the wall. At first, nothing was different. But it was unnaturally quiet.

Drip.

Something dripped onto Poland's head. Sister Denmark looked him with an expression of worry. "Uh, Poland? You might want to check your hair." Confused, he wiped whatever it was off.

His hand was red.

They stepped back, and a moment later another drip came down. They looked at the spot it landed, and, without moving their heads, rolled their eyes upward towards the top of the wall.

Poland clambered up, Sister Denmark following shortly thereafter. What he saw made him sick.

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Sister Denmark's ear-splitting scream immediately woke up everybody. Several countries came stumbling out of the house, and spotted Sister Denmark kneeling over something while Poland was busy retching.

The latter nation, after gaining some control over himself, climbed down and halted the crowd. "Everybody, go back inside. Inside, now!" he yelled. Confused, they did. He pulled Sister Sweden aside and said, "Go keep them calm. Don't tell anybody anything. There's been a murder." Aghast and white as a sheet, she did as she was told.

He went back up. Sister Denmark had stopped crying, but she was still mourning over Faroes' body. "C'mon, let's take him home," Poland said gently. Nodding, she and Poland carefully lowered Faroes by way of pulley.

When they got in the house, they set him down on a blanket on the floor in the middle of the living room. It was mostly dead silent, but there a few quiet Oh my Gods and facial expressions showing extreme emotional restraint.

"We found him like this in a large pool of blood," Poland said. "Everything, save his shirt and pants, was stripped and missing."

Dead silence. Then Sweden said, "Who's going to tell Greenland?"

"Tell me what?"

Greenland looked at the sorrowful expressions of everyone in the room, then looked down.

"Russia, we're going to need you," Poland muttered.

Russia arrived just in time. Greenland screamed, yelled, thrashed to get free of Russia's restraint; it was only when he bit him that he broke loose. He shook his best friend's body, but he didn't wake. In an absolute right state, he refused to listen or obey anyone. Then, he screamed, "Where is he? I know he murdered him! I know he killed him! WHERE IS HE?"

At that point, a powerful body lifted Greenland off of his feet and held him in a headlock. Everyone froze and stared. It was Denmark. He held Faroes' blood-stained knife to Greenland's throat. "If any of you make so much as a move, I'll dispose of him, too," he growled, clenching Greenland's throat tighter.

Greenland, turning purple, mouthed, help me!

Poland caught Denmark's gaze, and for a moment he thought he had glimpsed the eyes of the Devil himself. Denmark was possessed, that was for sure; and it wasn't exactly a mystery as to who had taken a hold of him.

Denmark released Greenland, who started turning back to a normal shade, and slithered in Poland's direction. Poland motioned for the Brute Force Task Squad to begin work. Then, yelling, Denmark attacked, throwing himself towards Poland, who scrambled away.

As Denmark crawled towards the frightened Poland, America and Russia sneaked up behind and assailed the attacker, holding him down while he spat and cursed. "Bah!" he roared. "You have no idea what powers I possess now! I have seen the truth!"

"He needs an exorcism," America grunted, practically sitting on Denmark's legs as the Scandinavian continued screaming bloody murder.

"Unfortunately, the one who can perform one strong enough to rid him of whatever's holding onto him is a neutral nation," said Poland, looking coldly down on the Dane. The latter nation smiled insanely. "I have a message for you from my Lord," he giggled. "He will find you and make you feel suffering as has never been felt before. If you continue resisting him, he will annihilate you." Poland crumpled to his knees.
" How do you know this?" Poland moaned.

"I was told by my Lord, who is the salvation of this continent," Denmark muttered, still violently struggling against the superpower bonds that were restraining him from murdering most of the people in the room.

"And who is this 'Lord', brother?" Sister Denmark asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

"The National Socialist State of Germany."

Germany fainted at the mention of the name. His brother had possessed one of his closest friends. As Kaiser Germany reached down to pick him up, Denmark said, "I wouldn't do that." Ignoring him, he did it anyway. Immediately, he clutched his head in pain. It was like a flashlight being shone in his eyes whilst in the midst of a nasty hangover. "I told you," Denmark said, amused, as if he had pulled off some great parlor trick.

"Stop."

A new voice, full of righteous authority, came from the other room. A heavenly light radiated through the house, accompanied by an angelic chorus from the heavens.

Vatican.

"Look, I don't normally make house calls," he said, "but this is different."

"Evil lives all through the world; murders happen all the time. I can't possibly be the one to stop all of it. But the closest thing to evil incarnate on this planet taking hold of an innocent person and driving him to murder his comrade? That gets my attention."

He turned his attention to the offender. He did not interact with him like Denmark himself had murdered Faroes, but rather the nation living inside of him. Consequently, this provided a mildly uncomfortable moment for the friends of Denmark when Vatican called him Nazi Germany.

"Bind and gag him," Vatican ordered. "It will make the whole process a little less messy."

"But won't he hurt himself trying to get free?" Sweden protested.

"He'll kill anyone within 20 feet of him if left unbound," Vatican said. "Also, I'd rather not have insults and saliva hurled at me while performing a rite. I'll unbind him when I need to."

They did as he asked.

Vatican kneeled next to Denmark, and put his thumb to the Dane's forehead. Immediately he withdrew it. Washing himself, he put both hands firmly on top of Denmark's skull, allowing him momentary access to the contents of his mind. This was incredibly risky; it was a two-way process, and Nazi's spirit could infect Vatican if it wanted to. However, possessing God's emissary to Earth took a lot more magic than Nazi Germany was willing to expend.

He saw a lot of chaos. Almost none of it was Danish, which meant that Nazi Germany had completely taken over Denmark's brain. After severing the mind link, Vatican broke the grim news. "Nazi Germany has completely and wholly possessed Denmark. He wouldn't even be able to resist if he wanted to. At this point, he's pretty much Nazi Germany in a Danish shell. The exorcism will be long and most certainly painful. Is there a spare room where I could set up shop?" Poland nodded, and showed Vatican upstairs.

Hungary and Poland ushered everyone back into the living room. "We're now in a state of emergency. Everyone is to report back to their capitals at once. No exceptions."

What they didn't realize was what Nazi Germany was doing next.

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"Who do you serve?"

"Nazi Germany," Sister Germany droned, dropping the defensive knife she was holding.

"Good. Capitulate," he said, gleeful.

She dropped to one knee.

"You are my Number One now. Your brother, father, and son will be returning home soon. Capture and imprison them."

"Yes, my lord."

"Weimar!" Nazi Germany barked. The painfully obedient nation sauntered in. Without saying a word, Nazi Germany shot him.

Laughing maniacally, he entered the Reichstag. "There will be no need for this," he said as he looked over the Parliamentary chamber. He set blaze to the building. Moving out to Wannsee, he mounted the throne he had erected.

"I have a very important mission for you," he said to the newly resurrected figure now standing before him. "I think you know what it is."

"Yes, my lord," said Vidkun Quisling.