Hi there! This is my very first fanfic! Yaay!

Anyways, I'm super nervous about it so if you read this, please critic it!

Thank you!

The sound of snapping branches and heavy breathing followed Prussia as he ran as fast as he could. Foggy breath seeped from his cracked, dehydrated lips. Hid eyes were swollen and wet, his throat stung as he held back tears as well as fear. Prussia looked behind him for a moment, men and women ran after him. Shouting and screaming, they help silver crosses. Others held torches, wooden stakes, bibles or muskets.

"The power of Christ compels you! The power if Christ compels you!"

"Go back to hell, Devil!"

"Die! Die!"

The yells of the horde echoed in the forest Prussia ran through. He was growing weary, his pale body aches and his knees wiggled. Prussia could hardly hold his own weight anymore. He had not slept in weeks, and hadn't eaten in 2 days. A thorny shrub was in front of him. Big enough he hadn't the time to go around it, he attempted to jump over or through it.

Prussia stepped on a tree stump and used it to propel himself over the thorny shrub, but he was too weak. He tumbled on the ground, the thorns cut and scraped him. His ankle was caught and twisted in the thorns.

"Verdammt!" he cursed under his breath as he frantically pulled at the thorns that pierced Prussia's ankles.

The ankle was probably broken since when he jumped her ankle was caught and Prussia instinctively turned to land on his feet; henceforth twisting and snapping the bone. The pain was horrid and covered his lower leg and foot. Thorns pierced his hands, sending warm blood dripping down his arm and soaking the soil beneath him.

Time was running out and the horde of men got closer. Prussia managed to free his ankle and limp away, bloody and bruised. He limped as fast as he could, wincing with each step and whimpering with hot tears at every branch, insect or leaf that touched his swollen ankle.

Prussia was week and injured, malnourished and sleep deprived. He was no match for the well fed, healthy people who sought to torture him for the demon he saw them eyes. Hair as light and silvery as newly polished silver, much unlike the greasy, black, soot-like hair of everyone else. His skin was pale as snow and porcelain like a marble statue, beautiful on women but strange on men. Worst of all, his eyes were crimson red. They stood out like fresh blood on crisp snow against his complexion. The mark of the Devil, that's what they said. Prussia began to believe so, living on his own. Leaving his young brother, Germany with his grandfather, Germania. Prussia truly believed the devil lived inside him until he met Austria and Hungary, who understood him. Accepted him and loved him even if Prussia refused to admit he loved them too.

The shouting of Biblical verse grew closer, louder. A priest held holy water and shouted verses believed to be used for exorcism. Prussia could not run, he became dizzy and light headed. Sleep deprivation caused him to be bleary eyed, and confused. The trees seemed to move in his mind as he looked around lost and confused. Black spots appeared in his vision until his silver eye lashes fluttered and closed. Prussia collapsed unto the forest floor, he blacked out. Asleep and helpless around monsters of men.

Prussia's eyes fluttered open, he was hardly conscious before his eyes shut again. This went on for several weeks. He slipped in and out of consciousness. Eventually, he woke and stayed awake. He saw that he was locked in a musty old cellar. He was laying on a canvas sack that had been cut open and laid out on the ground. Another was wrapped around his leg, it was probably laid on him as a blanket but had been kicked off in his sleep.

The cellar was dark and damp, removed off all the wine. A makeshift prison, he thought. The only light source was run the underneath of an oak door with an iron handle that was removed from the door and laid at the bottom of the steps which led to the door.

Prussia stood up but quickly lost his balance and fell to his knees. After another trial and fail he managed to get up. He searched for food or drink that might have been left but only found half a loaf of moldy stale bread. He bit into the bread, winced, and swallowed.

After forcing himself to eat the bread he walked up the steps to the door way. He looked under the crack of the door. The small amount of light hurt his eyes compared to the darkness of the cellar. He couldn't see a thing and didn't hear anything either. The Prussian stood up and felt the walls. There was a crack on the left side. He slipped his left hand into the crack and gripped it as well as he could. His right hand was pressed against the right wall. In one solid movement his pressed against the wall with all he could which was enough to lift him. He slammed his legs into the door. Nothing happen. Prussia tried again. A piece of wood broke. He gave the next kick everything he had with a loud grunt. His eyes instinctively shut themselves as a large hole was knocked into the wall.

The bright light felt as though it blinded Prussia. He squinted and reached through the hole and felt around for the handle. He pressed down the notch and pulled it open. He covered his eyes with his hand as he walked out.

"Mutti! Vati!" Prussia heard the sharp scream of a young, human girl. The scream was preceded by the clash of dropped cast iron and the shatter of glass.

"Hush! Nein, silence!" Prussia pleaded with the girl frantically. He went to cover her mouth but she bit his hand, digging her teeth deep into his skin. He shouted and pulled his hand back and looked at the bite marks on his hand. The scars from the thorns could still be seen.

A man with an old axe rushing in the door, he was the girl's father. "You Devil!" he hissed.

Prussia looked around, scared out of his mind. He looked left and right for something to defend himself with. The girl's mother opened the door and walked in with wide eyes before running out, she was going to get the horde of monstrous men that chased him. The ones who hurt him. Prussia acted on a whim and ran for the door. The girl screamed again and the father reached for Prussia.

"Let me go!" Prussia shouted and punched the father in the jaw sending him stumbling back. Prussia broke free and ran out the door. Outside the home were wheat fields and apple orchids. Men and women filled the fields so Prussia ran the other way. He turned the corner of the home and ran straight into the horde of men. He stumbled back and slipped on the mud, landing on his back. He fumbled back to his feet, his boots, hands, and back covered in dirt. Prussia attempted to run the other way but the father stood in his way holding the axe.

Once again, he tried to run through the father but Prussia was pulled away by other men. Prussia kicked and screamed. Prussia kicked a bearded man in the face while he panicked, breaking the bearded man's nose. The father of the young girl hit Prussia's forehead with the back of the axe, knocking him unconscious.

Piercing sounds rang through Prussia's ears. Red-brown blood covered the right side of his forehead. It dripped down his face but dried and turned crusty and maroon in color. The world around Prussia shook and spun, the bright sunlight burned his eyes and skin. He was probably sunburned and peeling.

With blurry vision he blinked a few time and looked down. It took a few moment for him to recognize the situation. Splintering rope wrapped around his body, poking through his pale flesh. The rope tied him to a tall, upright log. Larger splinters from the old, moldy, damp log penetrated in to his spin and back. Dazed and confused he looked down at his feet. Smaller pieces of wood, hay and moss surrounds him. Villagers with crucifix's and holy water stared at him in fear.

A priest reassured the villagers that he would crucify the 'witch', the 'devil', the 'mister'. Whatever they believed he was. Next to the priest was a starry eyed girl with pale skin much like Prussia's and platinum blonde hair not much unlike the hair of Prussia's. She was so similar to himself in many ways. The main difference was his crimson red eyes and her sea green eyes. Her silky hair was braided back and she walked over to him and gazed into his red eyes without fear or hesitation. Her blonde eye lashes flickered like butterflies she handed him a red poppy flower.

"Isn't it pretty?" she asked with a giggle.

Prussia looked her blankly.

"It look like your eyes, doesn't it? They are very pretty." She smiled looking at the poppy flower on his lap. Prussia looked down at it, his silver lashes sending shadows on his cheek bones.

"I wish I had pretty eyes like yours."

Prussia looked at her quickly and his parched throat made it hard for him to form words. "N-no… You don't…"

The girl looked up at him, "My name is Genevieve. What's your name?"

"I don't have a name. I'm not like everyone else…"

"Gilbert. You look like a Gilbert!"

Prussia smiled through cracking and peeling lips. "Gilbert it is."

The priest pulled the girl away, his smile faded and tears dripped from his eye which turned swollen. He slouched over and white hair fell in his face. Through silent cries of despair he asked Genevieve a heart breaking question, "Am I a monster?"

Holy water was poured on his head. Dripping down onto his face, mixing with tears. Genevieve lipped an answer, 'No.' Her closed lip smile and wonderful eyes looked at him with her lashes catching the sun. She looked like an angel. He looked like a devil.

Rocks were rubbed together sending sparks into the hay. A fire was started at his feet, they would burn him alive. Genevieve stopped smiling and looked around in confusion as the heat caused Prussia is sweat and wince.

The fire spread up his legs, he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in pain. His skin felt like it was melting as his white tweed clothing helped the fire grow as it burnt up. Genevieve screamed, she was the only one who wasn't smiling. She ran toward Prussia but was snatched up. She watched in horror as Prussia was eventually engulfed in flames but still alive, still breathing, still screaming.