The Capitol War
Prologue
Just one more door… just one more door… I couldn't stop thinking the tantalizing words. I had to give myself hope. Even if it was false. My bare foot stepped on a broken wine bottle. As the glass entered the bridge of my foot, even I, the almighty one who conquered the oceans in my prime, who's never afraid to lay down the law, felt pain. I was tired and at a loss of blood. But I just couldn't die! I had a life to make, scones to bake! And my son. I couldn't let that foolhardy bastard take my place of the head of the once-great allies! I stopped. I could hear them, racing through the run-down building, following me. I was going to run out of doors soon. I started off once again, but collapsed. The pain in my foot. The burns from the Moltavs. The curved gashes from the sword. They were all too much.
"No…NOOOOO!" I screamed.
I thought of my son. Despite all the anger, he had enough to worry about. The debt to China was too great. His poverty levels. No longer was my dear son a kid who just ate burgers and annoyed me. He had hardened and cracked. He joined every war, he spent too much. Was he trying to commit suicide? He no longer laughed, only swore and denied all terms of endearment. And worst of all, I realized something. He had become like me. And I hated myself.
Then I thought of someone else. What will happen to France? We fight, but we are really closer than brothers. He.. he… he's my best…
The knob turned. I stopped that thought and wiped off the bloody tears from my face. I turned to see my attackers, but I couldn't see them in the darkness. I heard something though. Kneeling down, I closed my eyes, since their penetration was just a distraction. I just listened. I had the strange feeling that even though I couldn't see them, they could see me. Have you ever had that feeling? It's quite a strange one, as the fear mixes with adrenaline, you pinpoint their location through smell and sound, and you strike back. If I had to choose between dieing surrendering and being humiliated or fighting back and being slaughtered, I would choose the latter. I made peace with my soul and my friends and got up. Ignoring the pain, I got up and charged. By knowing where my enemy was, I found them and struck. I had no power left, no magic in me, but I found a way to strike.
I could hear that this was the attacker with the sword, so I intentionally hit the sheath to scare them. Although they said no words, I could tell that they were concerned by something. Then one spoke.
"This enemy has taken much longer than expected, Master." Spoke the one with the sword towards the other, apparently a superior.
"Finish him. I will go take out the others." Said the superior attacker.
The one with the sword did not speak as the other left the room. But this was my chance. Hitting the sheath once again, the one that is left drew his sword. I have to get at least one hit in before I die! So, as I sacrificed myself, I faked them out when they try to block my attack with their sword. When they strike downward, I strike upwards. Digging my arm into the blade, I subdue their strike and, ignoring the pain, grab a knife from my pack, and stab. My attack hits!
As the knife drives into my attackers solar plexus, they run out of breath and swear. I can tell by their thick, deep accent that it is a man, possibly from the desert. Blood spurts out as I drive my knife into his body, hoping to kill him. But all of the sudden, he moves his free hand to the sword and drives it down. HARD. Slicing right through the bone, I am left with no hand and little more than a blunt stub. I stare at the mangled arm and realize both my arms are already drenched in blood.
Taking this distraction, he swivels his sword down and cuts a fatal chunk of my chest out. I fall back in horror as the Master returns to see my demise. It is still dark, but I can see enough to now stare at my attackers and my blood. In my final moments, I recall something the master said earlier.
"Finish him. I will go take out the others."
There are others? Who? Where? My questions are subdued when I see my attacker's faces. In shock, I open my mouth to speak, but the sword comes down on my head too fast.
The great England is dead.
The attackers leave the room.
There is a faint scent of roses...
Chapter One
N. Italy
Roses? Where do I smell roses coming from?
I get out of bed and get dressed. Even though us Italians are quite flamboyant, and usually do not wear clothes to sleep, I only have to put on a shirt before I'm fully dressed. I have to be ready at anytime to bolt. Once I get the money, I'm gonna buy my own house and get out of this place. I'm working up the money now, but Mr. Austria will only allow me so much. He too, is in the middle of a depression. Although he sided with Ms. Hungary and had to move into her house. He is regaining his money slowly but surely and will soon enough be able to pay back Ms. Hungary.
I, on the other hand, have barely any money. Although Germany allowed me to move back into his house, I probably won't be getting out any time soon. Japan-nii-chan was so nice to just give me the money at the start of the depression, but alas, it is no longer. It's been confiscated, and it's all because of Germany.
Germany, Germany. Germany. Just his name strikes a pulse. If I had tears anymore, I would weep just because of his name. That maniac! How are we ever going to get along and "become one" as he says. Right when I got the money from Japan, he took it, saying he "needed it more than me". And now, I have to help him in this bloody war against a mystery country. Of course, his country is too precious and to beautiful to spend money in the war. So of course, he uses mine. Us Italians are by no means, a fighting people. But still, we have to contribute to the war. I'm going to crack one day.
"Feli! I need your help!" My brother Romano, also known as South Italy, yelled up to me.
"Coming!" I yell back.
Romano. One of the reasons I stay sane. Romano. Also enslaved by Germany. Ever since WWII ended, Romano and I bonded. We even started living in the house together. Until Germany enslaved us both. We both were forced to live in Germany's house. At that time of course, I still felt attached to Germany. So in turn, so did Romano. That's when it happened.
Germany started using our money. I stopped trusting him. Germany wasted our money. I started to hate him. He attacked Prussia, and I was on standby for war. Even the little things Germany did turned into big things.
As I hurried down the stairs, I met up with Romano. He still needed a shirt, but we needed to go more. We hurried to the door. Only to be blocked by Germany. And of course, he was drunk again. Why not? Waste my hard-earned money! SURE! With a smirk on my face, I tried to shove past. But he got in the way.
"Where are you boys going?" Germany asked. "Wouldn't want you slacking off and getting away with it, now wouldn't we?"
His breath stunk of expensive wine and fancy cigars. He was swaying, and it was obvious he didn't want us out. "Shove off." I said and pushed past.
As I grabbed the door handle, Romano started getting nervous. I turned it, and started out. I looked back just in time to see Germany swing the expensive wine bottle and shatter it on my back. I crumpled over in pain. Luckily, only one shard stuck in my back. The rest implanted in Germany's hand. He screamed out in pain and did once again when Romano punched him in the face. Germany passed out, and we hurried out to our rendevouz. Even though I had just been bullied yet again, I laughed when I realized that Romano still had no shirt on. Heh, this was Germany. One good thing is no one cares about no shirts. Or nudity, for that fact. But that laugh turned to pain as Romano yanked to glass out of my back. I thought back to earlier statement as I pulled off my ruined shirt and fashioned a crude bandage.
"Feliciano! Are you OK?" Romano inquires. Well judging from the newest one of the multiple holes in my back, I'd say… Sure.
We had to hurry. We had a rendevouz to get to.
As we walked, I looked at Romano. I wanted to ask why he had a turtle on his head, but I didn't. That would be the same as him asking why I always had a cat around. That would be VERY awkward. But still, I laughed. The moment the noise exited my mouth, I knew I should have kept it in. The glass had just recently been yanked out of my back, and the bandage I fashioned from my shirt wasn't holding up. The blood overflowed out from the soggy cloth and I fell over. Romano ran up to me and grabbed my arm.
"Come on Feli. We're almost there! If we can just get to the rendevouz, we can get you patched up. We can start the meeting after you've healed." Romano explained. For some reason, he placed his turtle on my head and helped me up.
I smiled up to him and got up, ignoring the pain. "I'm okay, don't worry."
"You sure?"
"Ve~"
"Okay!" Romano exclaimed. "Let's get there!" We started off, and thank the Pasta God,my wound never opened up again on the trip there. Then we arrived. German General Hospital. As I got a room, the nurses gave us both shirts. Gratefully, I smiled and thanked them. Soon enough, and after many bottles of cream,my cuts were stitched up and my wound sealed. I got out of the room, made sure my insurance covered the charge, and met up with Romano. He, of course, was flirting with a nurse. After they exchanged phone numbers and she petted his turtle, I lured him away with a random tomato.
"We need to get to meeting up with the others. We're already late!" I told Romano. He was still munching on the red fruit (or is it a vegetable?) and his answer came out something slurred sounding like "Om-nom-mum-na-no-nom". I just replied' "Yes" and we hurried off. We were walking up to the meeting place when we heard someone yell.
"OH MY GOD YOUR FACE IS SO HILARIOUS RIGHT NOW!"
That must be Poland.
Romano put on a relaxed face and barged into the hospital room, Room 251, Prussia's room. Romano yelled to everyone in the room, "Hey Potato Bastards!"
"Oh hey Romano!" Poland yelled at him. He was still laughing, and the words that followed made absolutely no sense. As usual.
Everyone inside greeted us (although Poland did admittedly louder). Romano made a strange noise so I looked over at him. His brow was furrowed.
"What's wrong, Roma?"
"Japan…Poland…Greece…"
Hmph. I walked over to Japan and Greece while Poland floated impossibly around Romano, yelling at him and trying to get his attention.
"So, what's up guys?"
Japan seemed to be thinking, so I turned to Greece. As soon as I saw him up close, I had to take a step back. He was sitting on the ground, and he didn't seem ready to be standing up. I really couldn't believe his grotesque appearance. His neck was scabbed up, with bruises and blood edging out. His eyes were disorienting. I couldn't see color in his eyes. Is pupils took up his whole eyes and they were in a fashion which said many things. He was digging his bloody hands into the white tile, and his fingernails flaked and brke off. He turned his head towards me, and I stopped and stared. I tentatively took a step towards the mangled Grecian. My foot got caught in a groove and I had to sidestep. I didn't want Greece going crazy on me and nii-chan, so I had to appear calm. I made sure I had sure footing and continued. I stood near his shoulder, as his eyes drilled into me. I bend down just the slightest bit, and put my hand on his shoulder. He twitched but immediately calmed. His eyes dilated and he stopped grinding his fingers into the floor.
"Hello!" He said cheerfully. The calm and energy in his voice surprised me. But I ended up smiling, happy at his quick change. How could I not be happy? He is my fratello after all. Well, more like half-step brother. Japan-my nii-chan- was my brother of arms. And I guess since Greece was Japan's best friend, that qualified him as my fratello.
At the sound of Greece's voice, Japan looked up. He cocked his head and flushed in the cheeks.
"Arigatou Italia-chan. He would not stop, but I guess you are the one that can cheer him up and calm him…" Japan was now a little more active in the conversation, but it was mostly Poland and I. I was a little scared, but I was happy to be with my friends. So I acted like myself, at least the self I contained after Germany went bad. I chatted with Japan, Greece, and Poland, after he came over, blabbering incoherently and exclaiming "Pasta!". Although we were all still tense, there was really something to wonder after Romano finished the thought that had been conflicting him this whole time.
So as we settled down for Romano's question, I cast a glance at the others. Japan's eyes had been shrouded by his hair, his head lowered, and from what I guessed, eyes dark. His face has a solemn expression on it and his lips pressed together in a frown, as if he knew what the question was, and it was a bad one. Greece's eyes were closed, his head slightly cocked. His mouth was tilted up in what seemed like an everlasting smile, but it was a scarring lie. I knew it masked mental destruction. I had seen him just a few minutes ago, and that was the mediocre, the just okay, level of his insanity. I was forced to look away. I mean, sure maybe I'm a little creeped out everytime he acts like that, but we're great friends, and I hope nothing either of us ever do can change that. I avert my attention to Poland, and I know something's wrong. He holds the same dark expression as Japan, and I know something's wrong. Poland holds himself high and is always happy, so I state it again. I know something's wrong.
"Where's England."
Romano's question catches me off guard. Here I've been, minding myself, subconsciously knowing there's something amiss. But then he's like BANG, and I realize it.
England's not here.
Japan's silence. Poland's silence. Greece's smile.
No one's in the talking mood. Except for Greece.
He chuckles and stands up. As, he stands, his scabs pop and bleed. His neck is amiss, but not as bad as what I hear. That laugh. He knows.
"Dead." He speaks in a deep, guttural voice. "We found his body in compound on the deserts of the Sahara. We were on a recon mission, Japan and I, and there he was. His body dismembered and burned. Shards of glass in his spine. Hands cut off." Here Greece pauses here and Japan rises slowly.
"Shut up Greece." Japan whispers.
But Greece continues. "And guess what we found. Something interesting. A note, like a checklist." He chuckles again. "And guess what there's a check next to…"
"Shut up Greece!" Japan yells this time. I can see tears in his eyes, and mine overflow. Once again, Greece smiles, laughs, and reads.
He counts it off slowly. "Op:1348 I:E S:D"
"Oh my god", I say. The combination reverberates through my mind. "No, no!" I get up and walk out of the hospital as the memory comes back.
I sat down at the hard-plastic table. On my plate laid the addiction of Germany. Wurst and Potatoes. Even though we had these "delecacies", this was a no-fun-and-Italy-can't-talk kind of dinner.
"So Italy… how are you doing?"
I stayed silent.
He waited for me to respond, and you could tell he was already getting annoyed. He furrowed his brow and poured some expensive wine (which he bought with MY money, ve~)
I just stared back at him, solemn.
This time he yelled. "You can't do anything, you realize? All through the Second World War, I had to save you time and time again! And are you helping now? NO! You and your brother never help anyone, unlike me!" He stood and walked toward me.
"How in the world am I supposed to help with YOU always stealing my money? And don't you DARE talk about Roma that way!" I stood up and yelled right back in his face.
I don't know which I felt first, the fist or the pain. But I do know that they both hurt. I collapsed on the floor and cried out as my temples throbbed and blood trickled out of my nose. I snorted up bucketfuls when that blond kicked me in the stomach.
"So NOW you're in the mood to talk? I bet you wouldn't be so cocky if your brother or comrade wasn't here."
I looked sickly at him.
Suddenly his walkie-talkie buzzed in and said something I didn't understand at the time.
It said,"Op:1348 I:E S:D".