What had Italy done to deserve this? He was just walking home from one of the shops in the city, when he was grabbed from behind and knocked out. It wasn't even dark outside; it was the middle of the afternoon. But now Italy was locked in a room so dark that he couldn't even see his hand right in front of his face. Italy had been stripped of his clothes and he felt incredibly vulnerable. It was cold as well, and his arms where rippled with goosebumps.

Now let's get this straight. Italy is not weak, in fact, he could fight pretty well if he wanted to. He just didn't see the point of doing this in a war. Italy was not alone with his thoughts for long, though. Soon, two large men burst into the room and one of them dragged him out by his hair. Pain spiked across his scalp and Italy cried out. After being dragged like this through a few featureless corridors, he was flung onto a harsh metal table and he was bound, leather restraints digging deep into his skin.

A man, whose face Italy would never remember, walked into the room, and Italy presumed he was some sort of doctor. The doctor never talked to Italy directly, in fact, he was talking to a camera instead, and whenever he did reference Italy, he referred to him as 'it' or 'the subject'. He glanced over at an area near Italy's feet occasionally and Italy remembered seeing a table with an assortment of painfully sharp knives there when he was dragged past. Italy flinched, realising just what a doctor could do with all those items.

He was brought out of his thoughts, when a sharp pain pricked his arm and he felt his whole body going limp. Not numb, but limp. Now Italy wasn't just scared, he was terrified. He could blink, he could breathe, but that was about it. First came the clamps. They forced his eyes open and then clamped them back, sparks of pain shooting across his face.

They used a small scalpel first, delicately slicing a circle around the lens and then removing it. Fluid was leaking from the eyes and Italy's vision was blanking in and out, coloured flashes frequenting his limited vision and the room was constantly flipping and changing direction. Everything blurred into an assortment of coloured smudges. The pain was immense and Italy almost wished that he could pass out, but every time he felt even close, another doctor jabbed another needle into his arm, probably with adrenaline.

Once the lens was out, the doctor changed blades, and this time it was curved. It made Italy feel even more sick to his stomach and pain was just sparking from everywhere. He could feel what was probably other doctors working on his body, but he couldn't even look and see what was happening, all Italy could feel was pain. Pain, pain and more pain. Tracing spirals down on his legs, jagged lines on his arms, and deep, angry letters across his chest, but most prominently, the pain that was throbbing and thumping a beat across his head in time with his heartbeat.

This knife was curving behind his eye, severing the nerves and connections in bursts of fire, and once it had curved all the way round his eye, the doctor lifted the knife up and the eye was squeezed out the socket with a sickening pop. Italy did vomit then, retching over and over, bile burning his mouth and throat. He couldn't move though, and it was still in his mouth. Italy was panicking and started to hyperventilate, only retching more as he inhaled the bile and it burned his oesophagus and his lungs.

No amount of adrenaline could stop Italy now then, but the only way he could tell the difference between being awake and unconscious was when the agonizing pain slowly pain to a hum in the background and his mind finally drifted away.

Eventually, Italy awoke to rough, crude bandages covering his body and face. Most seemed to be damp, and every time Italy even breathed, pain sent spasms across his body. A sudden feeling of completely loneliness began to suffocate him.

"Germany? Fratello? I'm sorry. I'm not strong, I'm weak and I'm useless, but I'll do anything if you come and save me. Please. I'm Sorry" And with that, Italy broke down, sobbing, waiting for tears to come and soak into the bandages. Tears that didn't come.

"Please…"