If horror movies have taught Prussia anything, it's that you never separate. Granted, the circumstances were different, but the moment you start to feel as though you're being watched, or you hear footsteps belonging to no one, or even if you think you see some inexplicable shape out of the corner of your eye, you stick with your group of people like glue. Unfortunately for Prussia, his group had ditched him, leading him to his current situation.
"Mein awesome head," groaned Prussia as he sat up, placing a pale hand on his pounding forehead.
The clanking of old chains made him look downwards. He saw shackles encasing his wrists and chains wrapped tightly around his ankles, covered in what looked like dried blood. The room he was in was dark, reminiscent of a dungeon back in the medieval times. Between him and freedom was a big, wooden door with a little slot for light and food to enter. In the corner of his prison was a pile of hay, perhaps for a makeshift bed. But other than that, nothing stuck out in the cell.
"What the hell . . ." Prussia mumbled under his breath, trying to recall the events before leading to his current predicament.
It was a little hazy, but he could remember the important points. He was walking his younger brothers dogs at the local park for him. Being an ex-nation meant he couldn't go to the world meetings, so Germany put him to work on the days he would be gone. The dogs, Aster, Blackie, and Berlitz, had gone crazy and ran off, tugging their leashes right out of his hands. Prussia chased them down, following them deep into the woods near the park. The paranoia set in not even a minute after he stepped foot into the dark forest. But he had to find the dogs or else Germany would strangle him! So Prussia traveled deeper and deeper into the woods, following the tracks of the three canines. A tingling sensation shot down his spine. It felt like he was being watched. But he ignored the feeling and kept searching, calling out for them. As he reached a small stream, that's when he was ambushed. He wasn't sure who attacked him, only feeling this unbearable pain exploding in the back on his head. Prussia collapsed to the forest floor, only having enough time to wonder who could've gotten the drop on him before falling in unconsciousness.
The locks in the door shifted. Prussia's head snapped up, glaring in advance at whoever would come strolling through the doors. The large, heavy door creaked open and the amount of light that came in nearly blinded Prussia. He blinked multiple times, swearing in German under his breath, until his eyes adjusted to the light and saw who was standing before him.
"Oh, you're finally awake," a smug German accent said with a smirk that could curdle dairy.
Prussia remained silent, glaring at the blond man in front of him. He looked just like Germany, his little brother. But there were a few noticeable differences. For one, this carbon copy had violet eyes and a scar just beneath his left eye. His white tank top was blemished from dark red stains, as were his gloves and deep blue pants. Prussia could only wonder which poor soul had angered or stood in the path of this demented man.
"What? Cat got your tongue?" the German man chuckled and walked into the room until he stood right before Prussia. "You were never this quiet last time, bruder."
"You are no brother of mine, Lutz," Prussia sneered at the man and spat in his face.
Lutz growled, wiping away the spit before kicking Prussia across the face with his filthy boots, making his headache worse. Prussia fell to the floor, biting his the inside of his cheek when the man kicked him. He spat out blood onto the cold stone floor in front of him, wishing he could be anywhere but here.
Yes, it's true that this isn't the first encounter between Prussia and Lutz. They've had many encounters before hand, one or both of them nearly beaten into a coma when they returned home from their little meetings. Lutz was the sinister half of his younger brother. Every nation had another half, almost like a twin who represented the faults with their nation. They were murderers, sociopaths, drug lords, thugs, you name it and they represented all that evil. Ever since Prussia was declared no longer a country, he had been bothered by the sinister nations only once and the results were devastating. Multiple broken bones, ruptured organs, bruises around his neck in the shape of hands, the works. The wounds he suffered were still there as scars, his mental scars being the far more noticeable ones. Prussia suffers from PTSD, though most nations do after going through war. It took him years to be able to trust anyone other than Germany. He was afraid to leave the comfort of his basement for the longest time after what those sick minded people did to him.
"What do you want with me?" Prussia all but moaned, sitting up and wiping any blood that may have been on his pale lips.
"Do you know what year it is?" Lutz asked, the smug smile returning to his lips.
"The year is 2014," Prussia answered hesitantly, unsure where this was going.
"Yet the mighty nation of Prussia was officially dissolved in 1947. Why we want you, dear Prussia, is to find out your secrets," Lutz said, his grin turning maniacal. "Your country dissolved but you are still here. Hell, even after we captured you the last time around, here you are, looking like you never worked or fought a day in your life. You haven't even aged a day since then. Is your immortality just a special case? Or is it linked to good ol' Germany still kicking and fighting? We want to know."
"Good luck finding out, sie krank Ausfall einer Nation," Prussia hissed, his signature cocky smirk coming to his face. "Even I don't know the reason."
"We know that, bruder. That's why we've set up a series of experiments to test the limits of your immortality," Lutz said with a vicious grin, yanking Prussia to his feet by the collar of his dirt covered Prussian blue shirt. "We know that we won't last forever, every country will die at some point, but with these experiments, we could possibly eliminate the option of oblivion."
Prussia's eyes widened, the smirk wiped from his face. A flurry of memories came rushing to his head of the last time he was at the mercy to these countries. Yes, Prussia has lived for so long and fought in so many wars. He has been captured and tortured by countries he may even consider friends nowadays. But nothing can compare to what these creatures can do. They are the darkest souls to walk the Earth. They leave a trail of blood and gore in their wake should anyone interfere with them. Sometimes, they do what they do just for the sick pleasure of it. If they feel like plunging a knife into some poor guy, they will. Maybe they want to practice their torture techniques? They grab whoever is on the street, man, woman, or child, they don't care, and drag them into lair or hell, as the albino Prussian liked to call it. It was all the same to him.
"Nein! Nein! Lassen Sie mich gehen! Lassen Sie mich gehen Sie Greuel!" Prussia screeched in his native tongue, headbutting Lutz as hard as he could and struggled against his restraints. "I won't go through it again!"
With strength he didn't even know he had anymore, Prussia broke the chains holding him to the wall and made a run for it, sprinting out the door and slamming it behind him just incase Lutz was quick enough to get back on his feet and follow him. As he sprinted for his life down the narrow white hallways, he was desperately trying to break the shackles' chain in case he needed to fight any country he came across. In the process of trying to break the chains, he was digging the shackles into his skin, drawing plenty of ruby red blood.
Prussia took a right turn down the blindingly white corridors and his chains break free just as a katana comes swinging at him. He dodges and sees the wielder of the blade is a red eyed Japanese man covered in a plethora of tattoos.
"I found the prisoner," Kuro, Japan's counterpart, said into a walkie talkie before hooking it to the belt holding his black slacks up.
"You won't take the awesome me!" Prussia bellowed, feigning confidence, and with all the stupidity in the world, tackled the Japanese man to the floor, simultaneously knocking his weapon away.
Thanks to their past encounters together, Prussia knew Kuro didn't have much strength when it came to fist fighting. That didn't mean he wasn't tough to get rid of. They exchanged blow for blow, rolling around the marble floor. Prussia quickly grabbed Kuro by his bare shoulders and shoved him into the wall then elbowed him in the face multiple times until he was satisfied by the amount of blood gushing from his broken nose. It may sound grim and dark, but Prussia couldn't help himself. After all the things they put him through, it brought him satisfaction at the sight of them bleeding, of them hurting instead of him. He let Kuro drop to the floor like a fly before running down the hallway, taking the katana with him.
"You fucking piece of shit! You let him get away," America's counterpart, Allen barked from behind him.
"Don't just yell, shit head, shoot!" the voice of Francois, France's sinister half, yelled.
Bullets whizzed by Prussia. It only brought back more memories, but this time of all the wars he fought. Using the skills he obtained over the centuries, he dodged the bullets to the best of his abilities, getting grazed by a hot bullet every now and then. But there was too much adrenaline surging through his veins for him to worry or even feel his wounds. Prussia ducked down a left hallway and nearly stopped in his tracks. A hopeful smile appeared on his face as he recognized the hallway, the numbers on the door, and the stairs at the opposite end of the hall. It may have been decades since he was captured by the other countries, but nothing can erase his memories of the whole ordeal. He could remember every little detail of his weeks of capture and thankfully, he remembered the exit.
He ran and fast as he could towards the stairs, his heart in his throat. Could escaping this place really be that easy? Was he going to escape this god forsaken place and return home to his brother? Will he be able to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin and feel the ground of his homeland under his feet?
No. No he wasn't. Because it was all just a cruel trick.
Prussia reached the stairs and looked up, eyes widening in horror. He could actually feel his heart being torn apart in the most violent of ways. A tormented scream erupted from his throat, flowing out of his mouth as tears cascaded down his pale face. It took everything he had not to collapse to his knees on the floor and off himself then and there.
The stairs lead to nowhere. They went up into the ceiling, something right out of the Winchester Mansion. Memories of being tortured at the hands of those evil incarnates swam around his mind. His one hope of escape broke the Prussian man. With no escape, Prussia would once again be subjected to their countless torture methods, their horrific scientific experiments, and not to mention the senseless beatings and malnourishment.
"Don't cry," a cold Russian voice said monotonously. "Tears are for the weak, da?"
Prussia whipped around, holding up the katana. In front of him was the walking blizzard himself, Viktor Braginsky. His brown hair fell into his cold red eyes. The lower half of his face was hidden behind a long grey scarf, but Prussia knew his lips were formed into a flat line of disdain towards the smaller man standing in front of him. In his hand he held a bloody pipe, new and old stains alike.
"Get the hell away from me," Prussia demanded despite the fact his voice was cracking and the tears continued to flow.
"Put the katana down, Prussia, and come quietly. I'd hate to make a mess with your verminous blood," Viktor said cooly.
"Like hell I'll come with you!" Prussia yelled and begun a battle with the taller man.
Viktor used his pipe as a sword, blocking every strike Prussia made against him. Prussia learned quickly after Viktor's first blow to him that he better dodge than block. Like Russia, Viktor had incredible strength and he used it all that strength with every swing of the pipe. The first time Prussia attempted to block, he was nearly driven into the ground from the sheer force.
"What the fuck are you doing? Get him already!" Allen yelled as he, Francois, and Kuro ran down the hallway towards them. "Never send a fuckin' commie to do the villain's work."
Viktor rolled his eyes at Allen and continued to fight with Prussia. Though, Prussia noticed, Viktor was coming at him a lot faster. A sigh was heard from Francois until Prussia felt a bullet pierce the left side of his chest. He gasped and fell to the ground, dropping the sword. Viktor turned to glare at the three. As Viktor started hissing at them in Russian, Prussia couldn't help but notice how the adrenaline was wearing off. His muscles screamed in agony, not allowing him to move an inch. The bullet wounds stung from the air and the bruises he gained from his encounter with Kuro were darkening by the minute and swelling painfully.
"Enough fighting, you idiots. Get him to the laboratory. I'm sure Wang will be happy to see him again," came the voice of Lutz as he walked up to the arguing men with his Italian ally flanking his right side.
This was it for Prussia. He was probably not going to see any of his friends or his younger brother for a very, very long time. The thought brought more tears to his eyes but he dared not make a single sound.
"Oh, ja, one last thing before you move him," Lutz said and walked up to the fallen form of Prussia. He raised his blood stained boot and kicked Prussia as hard as he could across the face. If he weren't immortal, they were positive it would've snapped his neck and killed Prussia. It only knocked him out. "Now get him to Wang."
An crude smile worked it's way onto his face. "We're going to have some fun with him."
Hallo, is'a me, Gabby~
This was actually an entry for the fanfiction contest I enter every year and completely forgot about it. It's supposed to be a first chapter but I'm just gonna say this loud and clear once, mkay?
I AM NOT GOING TO CONTINUE THIS!
This was simply made out of obligation to enter something in the contest. Maybe if I ever get inspired by some dark shit, I'll take a crack at it. But as of right now, I'm focused on wrapping up Paper Planes and my two running series, Smiley Faces and I Blame the Government. And those are the only two I have on . I have a crap ton more that's not even half finished saved to Google Drive varying from more Hetalia stuff to OHSHC to a bit of SPN and one Doctor Who fic. I'm even rewriting my old freaking Naruto fanfic. NARUTO! I was clean for four years until I heard it was ending.
Sorry for the little rant there. I hope you enjoyed the little fic.
Toodles~