Hello everyone, this not my first fan fic but it's my first publishing and my first attempt at this genre. I think I handle criticism fairly well but I can only take so much so go easy! I love reviews. This story is Hetalia and was NOT designed to offend. I don't own Hetalia or its' characters so with that said; I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Opening his eyes, Gilberts' sight blurred into focus. If his eyes were doors they would creak on rusty hinges. It felt they had not been opened for years. Wearily took in his surroundings, it all looked familiar somehow. But the searing pain kept him from piecing his thoughts together. With a sudden rush of terror the memories of the past flooded through him in agonizing detail. Starting to panic, he sat up but the fast motion sent his vision swooping and whirling around the dimly lit chamber. This dizzying sensation mercilessly floored him. Tentatively he brushed his hand against his right temple. Horrified he discovered it was covered with a warm scarlet fluid. His own blood. He remembered where he was and it terrified him. Years ago he was torn from his brother and dragged here. In that period of time life was Hell. Back then he wasn't sure whether he spent years or centuries there—it didn't really matter—it felt like an eternity. A low giggling floated to his ears through the darkness. Although Gilbert was barely coherent he could identify it anywhere. The fact that the two of them where in this room together made him want to vomit. He recalled the first time he'd seen this rooms' interior. It was his first week there. Ivan was perfectly pleasant, his sisters were sweet and the Baltics were cheerful. Gilbert was so distraught over the separation from his brother however that he made things difficult and lashed out at Ivan whenever he could.

Ivan kept his temper rather well. Or so it seemed.

One day Gilbert was wandering around when he thought he heard whimpering from the room at the end of the hall. He was told never to go in this room, but since when does he do what he's told? He opened the door just a sliver. He was used to the carnage of war but what he saw made him retch. The Baltics were chained to the wall. Their clothes were tattered and bloody. Ragged slashes ran across flesh marred with the scars of previous abuse. Raivis always shook but now the bindings around his wrists and ankles rattled with the tremors of fear emanating from him. Beside him Eduard coughed, spattering fresh blood on what was left of his jacket. Before he could run or call for help the door swung open. He stumbled backwards as he was met with Ivans' sickeningly childish grin.

He crouched down to meet the ruby eyes of the frightened albino. "Aww little Gilbert wishes to play to yes? How selfish of me! I should be letting you join the fun da? ~" he cooed. In one even motion he clutched Gilberts' ankles and began heaving him through the doorway.

"N-n-n-no no. NO NOOOO!" Gilbert screamed. He flipped over and began clawing madly at the unforgiving wood floor in a vain attempt to escape -but it was no use—Ivan had him in an iron grip.

At that point muffled footsteps pulled him to the present. From a
darkened corner of the room violet eyes glowed with fiery light. There
was something else as well-some sort of steel object- glinting
dangerously as the figure advanced.

"Why you- You have no right to bring me here!" Gilbert bellowed.

"You are wrong Comrade, I have every right. You have been very disrespectful and for that you must be punished..." his cheery mask dissolved into a menacing glare and his tone dropped to a low growl. "right, Мой друг?"

"I demand you let me go THIS INSTANT! I-"

"Now Gilbert, what fun would it be if I released you?"

"Y-you're a monster!" The German Micro-nation started to tremble.

"Oh my dear white rabbit," Ivan sighed at him as if he were a naive child, "aren't we all?" his grin widened, eyes blazing with madness as he raised the steel faucet pipe above his head and brought it down with a nauseating crack. Gilbert welcomed the wave of blackness as it washed over him. Blotching out the traumatizing scene before him.

Мой друг:Russian: my friend