I don't even know where this came from, it's so unlike me... gah. As for the antagonists here, you can choose whether they're the Allies or just some captors... I didn't want to annoy people so in my head they're just kind of... faceless. I still can't believe I wrote this... Anyway, Italy is a character, not my own personal opinion, and (I think it's obvious, but hey) they're asking about Germany's whereabouts. WWII, but without an actual historical event.

Italy gasped and squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the gun click. Its barrel was lodged beneath his chin, pushing his head up, exposing his neck, he felt so vulnerable, a chill coursed through him, unable to stop his breath quickening, or the tears starting to itch his cheeks.

"P...Please don't hurt me..."

"You're an enemy. Why shouldn't we?" He couldn't see the owner of the voice, the room was dark, he couldn't think, their breath crept on his sweat-slicked skin. He sobbed loudly.

"I'll do what you want!" he cried. His voice echoed helplessly, punctuated by a drip of water. "Just don't kill me-"

"Where is he?" A different voice, equally as chilling, as daring.

"I don't know who you-" he was silenced immediately as the gun that had been propping up his chin was struck against the side of his face. He gasped loudly at the flash of pain and metallic taste, slumping his head forward, he heard his own blood drip onto the stones in front of him.

"We're not waiting all night-"

The Italian screamed as he was dragged roughly onto his feet. "Please! I don't know where he is...!"

"... you can tell us or we'll take some more extreme measures in finding out," ...someone's breath was once again very close to the shell of Italy's ear, and he whimpered. "And you don't want that."

No, he couldn't tell them... maybe he was a coward, but one thing he wasn't was disloyal. He swallowed the lump in his throat, opening his eyes and staring at the source of the daunting words. "I w-won't tell you."

He cried out as he was thrown roughly back onto the ground, before someone grabbed his arm and jerked it violently, bending it how it shouldn't-

"Please...!"

He cried out after a sickening crack, falling back, shoved down again, and heard another click as an icy barrel touched his skin.

"Last chance."

Italy whimpered and shook his head. "I...I won't t-tell you..." his body shuddered with a deep sob, "I'm not useless..." he struggled, feeling the gun being pushed ever harder against his skin, he squeezed his eyes shut again, preparing himself for the blast. "I...I'm not weak..."

A last breath wrenched his gut violently, and the trigger was pulled.

I'm so sorry, I don't even know what I was doing... ;_;

... but R&R if you'd like to give me feedback.