WARNING: Blood, violence, death of countries, NOT INTENDED TO OFFEND. Implied pairings are implied. Enjoy~

…xXx…

Bloody Lily

The meeting was boring.

Idiotic.

Heartless.

Everyone was too busy insulting one another to get anything done. Her dear older brother had left the room—already tired of the nonsense. As far as she knew, he was outside taking a breather from it all with that man.

That retch.

That whore.

Liechtenstein's hands balled into fists on the table in front of her as she thought of the Austrian. She hated him so, so much. So much that sometimes she just couldn't take it anymore. On more than one occasion she'd tried to poison the bastard. Just thinking of that pathetic excuse for a country being anywhere near her darling, sweet brother, talking to him, touching him, kissing him—Her hands tightened.

She'd had enough.

It was time to do something.

"Liechtenstein?" She blinked away from her thoughts, looking across the table into Hungary's concerned gaze. "Is everything alright?"

The girl stood up from her seat, ignoring the country's question, and reached up under her skirt. She didn't like the idea of hurting the woman; she was always so polite to her, but the country was too close to that harlot and even dared to still love him. No, she had to go.

So she thought it out.

She'd have to take out those closest to her first. Switzerland was gone, so she was seated by herself in between Egypt and Canada—two nice, quiet countries that she quite liked—but they had to go before they took her out. However, Russia was on the other side of the Canadian and probably wouldn't take kindly to her killing his lover. He would be next—and hopefully he wouldn't get the chance to unleash his pipe on her. Then Turkey on the other side of Egypt. And back to Russia's sisters, preferably before she was stabbed by the crazy one. Then the Baltics. Just because they were close.

Now, not every country in the room would have a weapon. America and England would be among of the few holstering pistols so they would be next. Germany, too, and his annoying brother. That leaves Spain and France. Might as well take out the Italy brothers while she was at it. Might as well take out everyone.

So she worked it out and let her mind go. Knives first. Guns later.

Liechtenstein gripped the handles of the blades on the belt under her skirt and took a deep, relaxing breath. She could do this. She could. For her brother. For her sanity.

That way she could make Austria pay.

Let's do this.

She flicked out her knives, her vision turning acute, and everything seemed to slow down around her. With one last breath, she thrust the knives out on either side of her and—because of their close proximity—buried the blades deep into Canada and Egypt's temples. She tugged the knife out of the Middle Eastern country's head and whipped it into another skull, watching with delight as the deadly Russian slumped in his chair. He didn't even have the chance to turn toward his beloved Canadian.

Whose head she finally relieved her knife from and flung it at Turkey.

While everyone was too busy staring at her and gasping, she quickly unsnapped the holsters on her twin Sphinx pistols—16 rounds each—and pointed them back down the table at Belarus and Ukraine, quickly taking them out, then the Baltics on the other side of them. One, two, three. She then aimed across the table at the English speaking countries. Right between the eyes for both of them, and she spun over to Germany and Prussia just as the latter was drawing his own gun. She shot the silver-haired man's brother, watching as those red eyes widened with disbelief, before killing him, too.

They were dropping like flies.

That gave her a laugh, and she thought, Why is it so easy to pull the trigger?

She caught France just as he was ducking under the table, shooting him through the wood, and Spain as he tried to run for the door. He didn't make it. A quick chuckle escaped her against her will again as she watched the Spaniard hit the floor. The expression on his stupid face, now decorated with a bullet hole, was priceless.

Not to mention the expressions of the two Italians. They were both sobbing, their faces wet and smudged with tears, as the Southern half was holding back his brother to keep him from running to the fallen German. The sight ruined her moment of amusement and she frowned, quickly deciding to put them out of their misery—even if it was more out of annoyance than kindness.

Spinning the pistols around her index fingers, she turned towards the Asians. Japan had drawn his katana and China pulled out some throwing stars, both of them taking a defensive position in front of the others. Their eyes were confused, their stances shaky.

Liechtenstein smiled, giving another laugh. Finally, at least someone was going to put up a fight. She caught one of her guns, still spinning the other one, and pointed it at them. She fired a warning shot—given, it was at Japan's chest—but the Asian country just deflected it with his sword. Hmm, this should be interesting, she thought. For an instant she wondered how her brother would react to her killing the Japanese man, but she quickly dismissed the thought.

Out of the corner of her eye—as she fired another shot, seeing it spark off the blade again—China threw a star at her.

Her mind slowed down again, her eyes catching every rotation of the star as it closed in on her. But her body moved with a speed that she had only used a few times before, and she became a blur. She tossed her still spinning gun up into the air, dodged out of the way and, with spider-like precision, poked her now free finger into the center of the star. Carefully twirling around, she used the weapons momentum to launch it back at the countries and hit home in Taiwan's neck.

Catching her pistol, she swiftly fired one shot after another down the line. Korea went down, then Hong Kong, Thailand, Vietnam. China didn't get another chance to throw a star at her. Then she came to Japan, who she caught in the side of the head before he could block another one of her shots.

He was too busy watching everyone else die, she thought mockingly. How cute.

A whoosh of air to her right caught her off guard, and she barely managed to dodge a giant axe bearing down on her. Flipping backwards, she landed with a glare up at Denmark. He gave a growl, lifting his weapon from her broken chair. A thought flittered through her mind on how she hadn't noticed he had his axe with him. Maybe he hid it in that long coat of his.

Ah well.

Liechtenstein jumped out of the way of the axe again, feeling it slam down inches from her backside. She didn't bother to fire a shot at the Dane, knowing full well that he'd just block the bullet like Japan. Instead, she was a little busy dodging his manic attacks at her, which were taking out at least half a dozen chairs and a good sized chunk out of the table. All the twirling and side-stepping, the careful placements of her arms and legs, lest she lose one to that bloodthirsty axe, sort of reminded her of dancing. A wicked, messed up ballet between her and Denmark.

A dance macabre, she thought, giggling at the thought.

Quickly growing bored of their dance, however, she pointed one of her guns off to the side of the man. Aiming for a silver vase a few feet behind the Dane, and after evading another swipe, she lined her sights up perfectly and fired.

There was a loud ting as the urn wobbled before Denmark collapsed to the ground inches from her feet, red trickling out his mouth.

She couldn't help but smile and do a little victory hop, laughing loudly as she glanced between the vase and the fallen Dane. She wished her brother would have seen that shot—the bullet had ricocheted perfectly! He would be so proud of her!

Footsteps to her left told her that someone was running at her, but she didn't even look, keeping her eyes on her accomplishment. She just lifted her pistol and fired, hearing the person drop to the carpet. A shrill scream caught her attention and she turned her surprised gaze to see Netherlands face down on the floor, Belgium running over to him with tears streaming from her eyes.

Liechtenstein just shot the Dutch country before she reached her brother.

"Let's see . . . who's left?" she asked aloud, spinning her guns again. She walked back over to where her seat had been, retrieving her knives from Russia and Turkey along the way.

Her gaze lifted to the back corner of the room where the rest of the Nordics were standing. Norway was foolishly trying to open a window for them to escape, but the sudden bullet entering his brain stopped him cold. Iceland whimpered and dropped down beside his brother, calling desperately for him to wake up. The act made her pause as her eyes met with his wet indigo ones when he looked up at her.

And her chest gave an unfamiliar squeeze, making her frown. The Icelandic boy had always been kind to her and she even admitted to liking him a bit. He had no connection to Austria, but . . . her brother had always gotten extra protective of her when the Nordic was around and the thought alone made her heart pound. Switzerland always looked his, well, sexiest when he was protecting something—especially when it was her. So she had Iceland to thank for that.

A leg stepped in her line of sight, instantly snapping her back to awareness. She fiercely looked up at Sweden, angry that he had interrupted her thoughts, and fired a shot. The bullet whizzed through the air at the Finn, but the man jumped in the way so his precious 'wife' wouldn't be hurt.

But they'd underestimated the caliber her pistols could fire. The bullet went right through the Swede's back, out his chest, and into Finland's forehead.

Two birds with one stone.

However, the display of affection made her pause, watching as their bodies fell to the ground. An ache started in her bones as she stood there, mesmerized at the selfless act that had appeared before her. She shook off the feeling and turned away from the scene.

Taking one more survey of the room, the only two countries that were left standing was Hungary and Iceland. Liechtenstein set her guns down on the table and gripped her two knives, yet again sending them flying through the air. They spun straight forward, burying themselves deep into the Hungarian woman's crying eye sockets and tacking her to the wall.

Picking up her pistols, the small country made her way around the meeting room table to where the Icelandic boy was crouching in the middle of his dead family. Stepping over Norway's body, she tapped the Nordics chin with one of the warm gun barrels, forcing him to stand up.

He faced her slowly with a dismayed and confused expression, his small frame trembling. He looked drained, his skin completely depleted of color, and the faintest of tears budded in those cobalt pools of his. Again her chest gave a squeeze and she lowered her pistols.

Iceland didn't make a move to hurt her or anything, instead trying to open his mouth to speak. She just pressed a finger to his lips before he could ask her why or anything. Warping her face slightly, she looked up at him desperately, turning on her 'cutesy' charm.

"Emil, could you do me a favor?" Liechtenstein began, watching his face contort with uncertainty at her question. She moved her finger from his lips, tracing her way around them once and up his cheek to catch a rogue tear. She was starting to feel a little guilty for making him cry, but she still asked, "Could you go fetch Mr. Austria for me?"

Iceland gave her a look of bewilderment, stepping away from her touch. "W-What? Why?" he spat, sounding more scared than angry.

That wasn't good. She liked men with more of a backbone.

"Please?" Her bright green eyes widened, her eyebrows tilting up the slightest. He seemed to buy her false pleading and quickly walked past her, practically running for the door and out into the hallway.

Giving a small sigh of relief, Liechtenstein looked down at herself, seeing blood splattered on her dress and arms. She went back through her mind to see how many bullets she used. Let's see . . . She'd made it her priority to try and take out everyone with only one bullet—even if she wasted a couple on Japan. She made up at least one of those with Sweden and Finland. After summing up the amount she'd used, that left her with six.

But as Iceland returned with Austria—the pianist stopping in his tracks at the sight of the massacre—she fired off another shot that sent the Nordic falling to the ground, leaving her with five bullets. Three in one pistol, two in the other—which she clipped that one back onto her belt.

There. Everyone was eliminated now so she could have some fun with Austria.

The damn aristocrat just stood there, though, gaping at her like she was insane—but of course she wasn't. She wasn't.

He made her blood boil.

"Lilli . . . did you do this?" Austria whispered, appalled, gesturing around them vaguely.

Liechtenstein gripped the handle of her gun tightly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes and instead fixed a metallic glare on the man. How dare he speak her name so casually! Oh, how badly she wanted him to suffer, how badly her finger itched on the trigger as she aimed at his head. He didn't think she was capable of pulling off such a feat as killing all of the most powerful countries in the world. He thought she was an incapable, helpless little sister.

But her big brother trained her into the best.

And she wasn't going to let this weakling tarnish her lovely brother's reputation any longer. Switzerland deserved better than this pretentious musician who couldn't wage a proper war if you paid him. He deserved someone who could stand with him, an equal who would support him no matter what.

Her.

But she wasn't going to kill the Austrian right away. No, she wasn't that nice.

She was going to make him hurt a bit first.

Liechtenstein cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing with a smirk at the frightened aristocrat. As he stood with his arms up in surrender, she fought with herself on where she would shoot first. She really just wanted to pop him in the head and be done with it—but she knew doing that wouldn't satisfy her. So no head shooting just yet.

No, aim for the foot. Make him bleed.

So she did just that.

Austria cried out, lifting his foot up in pain. Not wasting any time—though she had to admit it was funny to watch him hop about—Liechtenstein fired another shot into his shoulder, watching with satisfaction as the force knocked him back.

Kneeling on the ground in agony, the Austrian gritted his teeth and launched himself at the girl. Her eyes widened in surprise and she took a step back raising her gun and firing again as the man tackled her to the ground. He slammed her against the floor, managing to knock the breath out of her, and reached for her pistol. They wrestled over her gun, which she bashed against his head a few times, before the pianist was finally able to yank it away from her.

The small country grunted, hauling off and kicking the aristocrat in his bullet hole ridden abdomen as furiously as she could. Austria shouted and hit the wall a few feet away, his back sliding down the white surface, leaving a blood streak behind.

Liechtenstein huffed in disgust, standing up and facing the fallen country. He was so pathetic—there was no way he deserved to live now. Reaching for a knife, the girl patted her hip absently, glancing over to where Hungary was on the wall. Yeah, of course they were still over there. She just turned back to her prey, smiling and stepping towards him.

Oh well, I can just kill him with my bare hands.

Facing down the barrel of her Sphinx stopped her in her tracks, though.

"Get back!" Austria yelled at her, crimson streams seeping from a cut above his eyebrow and out the corner of his mouth, glasses lying broken by her feet. His grip on the pistol was slippery due to the blood on his hands but he aimed it steadily at her, forcing her to back away from him. "Don't come near me!"

"What is going on here?"

Both countries looked towards the voice to see Switzerland standing in the doorway of the meeting room, looking at them in alarm. Liechtenstein's heart soared in happiness and she wanted to scream out, "Look, big brother! Look at what I've done for you!" but she held back.

Switzerland's gaze flicked between them, his green eyes widening at the gun in Austria's hand. He raised his hand cautiously at the musician, taking a small step forward. "Roderich, please put the gun down."

Austria's face looked pained, his breathing labored, one hand clutching at his bleeding stomach while the other still held the pistol aimed for her chest. "No, Vash—your sister has gone insane! She-She slaughtered everyone!"

The Swiss shook his head unbelievingly, even though he turned to look around the room at all the gore and dead bodies. "N-No . . . you wouldn't have, Lilli." He turned to look at his sister, his emeralds looking desperate. "Right?"

Liechtenstein pouted a bit—was he not pleased with her work? She decided to turn on her charm again, widening her eyes the slightest to convey false fear. She didn't have to say anything, Austria had that covered.

"Are you blind?" the aristocrat snapped, motioning the gun at the girl. "She's the only one left alive and standing. Not to mention I saw her shoot Iceland when I came in! No one else could have done it while we were outside."

Red tinted on the sides of her vision as the thought of him alone with her brother again. She moved her hand slowly along her waist, feeling for the familiar cold metal. Austria noticed this and straightened his arm out as best he could, clicking the gun back with his thumb.

Instantly a pistol was in Switzerland's hand as well, pointed straight at the Austrian. "Roderich, put the gun down," he demanded, his voice forceful and frantic.

"I won't or she's going to kill us."

"Put it down. Now."

"No!"

"God dammit, Austria!"

Click.

Bang!

Switzerland stood frozen as the shot rang out around them. His gaze was glued to the motionless body of the musician as it slid down the wall once more, the bullet in his skull silencing him once and for all. He slowly looked over at the smoking pistol held firmly in his sister's hands.

Liechtenstein grinned and relaxed melodramatically, lowering the gun. "Oh my god, finally! He's dead!" She started to laugh as relief flooded through her veins.

She'd shot him. Hopefully that was a big enough warning for him to stay the hell away from her precious brother. He wouldn't be bothering her brother for a long time after he woke up. Not to mention he was a fool for trying to shoot her with her own gun—she'd already used up all the bullets so when he'd tried to fire it at the same time she did the winning card had already been dealt.

She glanced over at her stunned brother and smiled at him, holding her arms out proudly. "What? You weren't going to shoot him so I did."

The Swiss dropped his gun, his hands flying to cover his mouth as a small, horrified groan escaped him. "L-Lilli . . . Oh my god, Lil . . ." Tears began to perk in his eyes as he dropped to his knees.

Liechtenstein's eyebrows furrowed and she walked over to him. She'd never seen her brother react this way. "What's the matter? Aren't you happy?"

"Happy?" he whispered, completely sickened by her question.

She just kept smiling as she knelt down in front of her brother. "Yes, happy," she said, leaning her forehead against his. Switzerland lowered his hands in disbelief at her words. At least he was listening to her.

She scooted up to him, wrapping her blood soaked arms around him and closing her eyes in bliss. "Yes, this way I can have you all to myself," she murmured, pressing the barrel of the pistol to the back of Switzerland's head. His eyes flickered with dread and she inched forward to kiss him. Liechtenstein pulled the trigger.

"I love you, big brother."

…xXx…

I haven't found many Snapped!Liechtenstein out on the internet, pictures or stories—probably because she's too darn cute!—so this is my little contribution to the genre! :D Sorry if this offended anyone, that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to see what it was like to have an overly Switzerland obsessed and fed-up Liechtenstein go nuts during a meeting.

Don't worry, everyone regenerates in a few hours. :3 Ooo, then what'll happen to little Lilli?

R&R pwease? ^w^

~WhisperWeeper