Warning: this is rated M for a reason! Be prepared for violence/gore, major character death, and later sexual assault. This story is not for the fainthearted. If this fic is too much to handle, check out my profile page for softer stories. Maybe a Russia and a kitten story better suites your taste. Otherwise, strap yourself in and put on your rain poncho. Blood's gonna fly, and you're in the splash zone.

It took only a moment for things to change. A breath, sharp eyes focused on the target and yet giving no chance for eye contact, then the strike. Italy's head snapped sideways from the blow and then his whole body followed until he and the chair came crashing to the floor. The chorus of gasps initiated, one after the other, as though a melody had been pre-planned for this moment. The other bodies around the room shot from their chairs, racing to aid yet were too far away to prevent the assault that ensued.

Italy was snatched from the ground and hurled at the closest brick-solidified wall. He smacked against it with a sound resembling that of a wet towel. His eyes flashed upwards and he was temporarily blinded by the white light until a shadow appeared to block out everything. His already tumid cheek was punched once again, then a matching injury was donned to the other side of his face to subdue him. He collapsed soundlessly into a limp mass, leaning with his limbs bent and hanging so that he resembled poorly assembled furniture.

He served as a purely defenseless target, thus a huge fist dove into Italy's chest without hesitation. Upon impact, ribs crumpled and splintered like beaten wood. The other fist then arrived, burying itself into his diaphragm and stealing away his breath. The third punch was prepared, yet was halted by the clinging strength of America as he wrapped his arms like double hooks around the thicker one. America threw his weight backwards but kept his head forward so that he could purposely holler into the assailant's ear, "What the hell are you doing?"

Italy was forgotten. Germany reared around and slapped his free hand around America's throat. America's eyes had already been wide, yet now the glimmer of fear was now glistening there. For a moment, the nearness to death was recognized. America scrambled backwards and threw out a blow to escape Germany's grasp. He saw as he departed however, Germany's reaching hand in front of his face and how the grip was shaped to seize his trachea.

Britain latched onto Germany's side and before he could be assaulted, Spain grabbed onto Germany's other arm with teeth exposed in a grimace. The consequent struggle was unexpectedly ferocious. Germany careened sideways so that Britain was smashed against the wall, then he launched to the side to crush Spain against the floor with his weight. While on his side, Germany had regained sight of Italy. A predatory gleam shone coolly in his eyes like alpenglow as he clawed the carpet to pull himself towards the quietly moaning lump.

Just as fingers scraped the sock-clad ankle, Germany coughed as he was crushed on this occasion. Germany drew his arms back to push himself up, managing to get his upper body off the ground until Russia pushed on his elbows. Germany slapped against the floor and his arms became pinned like the rest of his body under Russia's weight. Germany instantly snarled and resisted, but soon enough America, Britain, Spain, and many others had come to hold some part of Germany down.

Many others went immediately to Italy. He was still emitting soft sounds of pain, but he hardly seemed to understand any of what was going on around him. His eyelids twitched and his breathing was slow and swallow. When spoken to gently by voices barely withholding fearful tremors, Italy did not respond. Hungary checked him over, monitoring his breathing, pulse, and responsiveness. When she held his wrist, she felt a quivering that was his remaining terror.

Hungary began to sweat like the others around her as she heard the yelling. It was America again, and he was crying out, "Why did you do this? What the hell, man?"

Germany did not say anything. This only caused Britain to exclaim, "He's your friend, isn't he? What happened? Why did you attack him?"

The lack of response caused jittery stress to overwhelm many. They wanted to know why the peace had been broken. Why the meeting had taken this turn before it had even started. Why Germany had been twenty minutes late. Why he had attacked someone close to him.

Above all, why he was saying nothing.

"Germany!" Austria's face expressed shock but his hands were squeezed into fists. "What is wrong with you? Why did you do this?"

Germany thrashed. Those holding him were startled but were soon able to get him under control again. Germany still did not speak, and this only intensified the emotions of the others.

"Germany!" America exploded. "Hey! Dude!"

Hungary placed her cellphone to the side of her head. The screen felt cool against her face, which had since started to heat up. Her hand felt overly light and heavy at the same time, causing her to feel as though a fever was overtaking her. Confusion, concern, and fear took turns shocking her until she shook in their grips. It was soon however that she could distract herself from the uncomfortable feelings in her body, when dispatch picked up and she could speak to her.

"We need an ambulance," Hungary whispered. "There's something wrong with his lungs…"

America screamed, "Why?"

Hungary continued on past the shouts, "He was attacked… H-His ribs are broken…"

One of Germany's arms freed itself from the gripping hands. Britain was struck by a punch in the temple and he collapsed to his side, temporarily stunned. Instantly Germany's hand snapped onto his throat and Britain coughed once before becoming silent. He writhed on the floor and lifted his chin up as he attempted to pry off Germany's fingers.

"Stop!" France screeched. "Germany, what has gotten into you? Let him go!"

Britain was soon liberated from the robotic grip. He fell backwards into his saviors, and together they stared aghast at Germany's face. It was turned towards them and the blue eyes were glaring into Britain's with an unfamiliar sharpness. Britain twitched and glanced to France and then to Lithuania at his sides. These two met Britain's gaze with equal startlement and wonderment before looking back to Germany with him.

"He tried to kill you," Lithuania murmured, "and America, and…"

Hungary spoke to the responder in a strained voice, murmuring as though she did not want to be heard by anyone else, "Please... we need the police."

Britain observed Germany's face closely. The eyes held in the middle of a disturbingly placid face unnerved him. There was a dry incisiveness that pierced through him, seeming to be spiking from a pool of scorching rage that was nestled secretly behind Germany's pupils. Britain's heart wobbled as he realized that there was no intelligence in that opposing gaze. He recognized the hunter, which was switching between times of uncontrollable bloodlust, and calculating focus. The time of focus was now, and this focus was uncomprehendingly extreme. Britain wondered then, if there was a goal that he was consumed by.

France flinched as he noticed all this as well. He was reminded of the staring gaze of a zombie suddenly: a creature that was utterly intent on reaching its quarry, dispatching it, then finding another victim to pursue. Germany did not mourn woefully, yet the muscles in his face were relaxed right now in psychopathic calmness. Germany seemed to feel no guilt for his actions. He desired more violence. Germany still said nothing, and yet the telepathic message was practically sent to all who looked at him: If I could move, I would kill you.

France said it first.

"That," he uttered, "is not Germany."

The body held down however, seemed to be undoubtedly his.

"I do not understand." Russia tilted his head, considering the man before him. "What would be causing him to do this?"

"Do you think he's been drugged?" China asked.

America blinked."Like, crack or something?"

"His pupils aren't overly dilated or constricted," Britain said, "but there's definitely something strange about his eyes."

America continued regardless, "I've heard of bath salts making people do weird stuff before…"

No one knew what to say for a while after that. They kept Germany to the floor, occasionally diving into internal debate to try and rationalize Germany's actions, at least until he struggled and they were thrown back into a fuzzy, strange reality. They hoped that he would go limp, blink rapidly, then groan a stereotypical "where am I?" so that the stranger below them would disappear.

The police and ambulance arrived without this ever happening.

Those on Germany peeled away to let the police officers replace their positions, then they watched with hollow eyes as handcuffs were neatly slapped onto Germany. Germany growled gutturally and pulled against the hands on him while staring directly at the nations standing before him. Japan took a nervous step forward, attracting the attention of the twisting beast. He said, "Germany, please stop-" but cut himself off after the particularly loud snarl and jerk directed towards him. The police officers dragged Germany away as Japan shrunk into himself and dipped his head to stare at the ground blankly.

Italy was carried out on a stretcher. The group was asked questions by the remaining officer, and then it was over. One-by-one they stumbled out from the building to gather together in the front, devoid of purpose. The meeting would not be continued, and yet they forgot that they had the choice to go home.

All emergency vehicles left, and then it was just silence for a while. They all looked everywhere except for at each other, finding fake interest in passing birds and insects, rustling foliage, and parked cars. The silence unset them more and more until some blushed as though embarrassed. They all wanted someone to say something, for the act of standing here in this world that felt unconfirmed was far too uncomfortable.

China eventually sighed, "I still don't understand."

Then it became exponentially easier to speak.

"Germany attacked Italy," France murmured. "Why, though? Did Italy do something that we are unaware of that upset him?"

"Italy?" Britain raised his brows. "Doing something so bad that Germany would want to kill him? That doesn't sound likely."

"Is that really what he was trying to do?" Ukraine gasped.

"He choked you," Lithuania said to Britain, "and you did nothing to upset him, right? America too?"

The two whom had been specified nodded.

"He did not stop once to think," Lithuania uttered. "He just attacked. Germany is not like this."

"I have never seen him angry like that before," Japan commented. "He was like an animal. He was not thinking at all."

"But no one knows why he was like this?" America asked.

Nothing was revealed. Only denials were given.

"What about Prussia?" Austria threw out. "He lives with him. He might know!"

America thus decided to call Germany's place with the intention of asking this question, but then ended up remembering as the phone rang that Prussia was ignorant in regards to the situation that had just transpired.

"Hey, um…" America rubbed the back of his head as he spoke.

"America?" Prussia immediately recognized the voice.

"Yeah…"

The hesitation confused Prussia. "Why are you calling? Isn't there a meeting? Germany isn't here… Wait. Is Germany not there? Is he okay? Did something happen?"

"Well, first of all, Germany was late," America said, "by twenty minutes."

Prussia exclaimed, "But he left like an hour ago!"

"He did?"

"You said first of all." Prussia murmured now because his throat was becoming tight from worry. "What else happened?"

America asked, "Was he acting strange before he left?"

"No, not at all…"

"Are you sure?"

"Tell me what happened!"

America replied, "Germany attacked Italy without reason. Italy is in the hospital and Germany has been arrested."

"What?"

"He was just entirely nuts. He wouldn't talk to anyone and he attacked anyone close to him."

"Germany?"

"Yeah, dude… So we were wondering if you knew anything. Like if he and Italy got into a fight or something before."

"No." Prussia shook his head, unbeknownst to those he was speaking to. "Germany and Italy don't fight. Germany would not hurt him. Germany would not just do… any of this!"

"Well, he did. We don't know why, but I am sure that the police are going to contact you anyway and you can go see him yourself. Maybe you can find out why he acted this way."

Prussia was stroking his own hair on his end of the phone. He stared forward at the wall while trying to imagine Germany doing all that America had just described. It was beyond his ability. He could not picture it.

"And… Italy? How bad off is he?" Prussia inquired.

"I think his ribs are all messed up. Germany got a few hits in before we pulled him off him."

Prussia's scalp hurt as he tugged on his hair.

"Why?" Prussia breathed. "This doesn't make sense. Are you sure this was Germany? He… He wouldn't just do this."

"Germany hasn't been taking any drugs, has he?" America continued.

"No… Germany… No, he hasn't."

"Huh. Well, okay then… I don't really think I can ask anything else."

Prussia made a weary affirmative sound in his throat as a reply.

"Bye, then," America said.

"Bye," Prussia whispered with a dry mouth.

"Oh, and tell us anything Germany says."

"I… will do that."

America hung up first. After doing this, he looked at the others, turning around to scan over them all.

"He knows nothing," America murmured.

"Something's up, surely," Britain muttered, "if this change of character occurred in such a short time frame. I believe that he was drugged and that his actions were not his fault. If this is the case, then he should be able to recuperate then explain what happened."

"Prussia will find out," America nodded. "We'll just have to wait a bit, I guess."

Russia asked, "Then we will be going home now?"

"Nothing else we can really do." America shrugged. "So-"

"Hold on," Hungary jumped in. "What about Italy's brother? We need to tell him what happened too!"

Belgium nodded. "Romano might know something Prussia doesn't."

"Oh no," Spain sighed. "When Romano hears what Germany did to Italy, he's going to be furious! He'll want to get his hands on the guy himself."

It was decided that Spain would take this call. His prediction was correct, but the resulting rage from the news was all that was received. It turned out that Romano had no information regarding Germany's savage attitude as well. Britain's hypothesis was once again believed to be probable.

"So now…?" Estonia asked.

"We can either go home or wait to visit Italy," France replied. "They said he was being taken to the DRK Kliniken Berlin Westend."

Many wanted to wait it seemed, in order to provide comfort to Italy and hear about the extent of his injuries. There was a belief at the moment running through their heads that a broken rib had punctured his lungs. They felt that they should at least show sympathy and remain for Italy's sake.

It was settled. They slowly split off from each other to reach their cars parked along the street or in parking lots, or they hailed down taxis. They headed home with strangely-weighted hearts, or they found hotels. Those that got themselves a room would later relocate themselves at diners and in some cases at convenience stores, then they would return to their hotel rooms to wait until the next day. It was so that when morning came around they would one-by-one pop in at the hospital to ask about Italy. The staff informed them of his condition, and this news was passed on to those who had left the country. Soon everyone became aware that three of Italy's ribs had been broken, and that one of his lungs had been perforated, all due to the actions of Germany.

Prussia had dropped in quickly to give Italy his words of consolation along with flowers. He would have stayed longer, but it was during the visit that he was called down to the police station. A quick, sorrowful goodbye was slipped from Prussia before he left the room and trotted down the hall. He hurried to his car then through the city, squeezing the wheel unconsciously tight in his grasp for the entirety of the drive.

Germany had been freed from the bars, and was sitting and waiting for Prussia to arrive while a police officer watched over him. When Prussia saw him, he did not know what to say first. He wanted to ask many things, but he also wanted to scream. He was confused, and admittedly scared because of this. He padded closer to Germany, but froze and looked away just as the blue eyes flashed up to him.

"Ger-Germany…" Prussia murmured. "What… Why did you-"

"I don't remember."

"You- what?"

"I don't know what happened to me," Germany continued very softly. "I remember leaving home, but then many hours are gone to me."

A relief washed over Prussia. He was still not willing to fully look at Germany, so he stared at the side and said, "So then, someone did something to you? You were drugged?"

"They say that's what happened to me," Germany sighed. "They did some quick tests. Someone did something to me."

The talking eased Prussia continuously more. Prussia sighed as well, and no longer felt the need to yell at Germany. His anger was redirected onto whoever had possibly drugged his brother.

"It's not your fault." Prussia nodded. "That's good."

"I'm so sorry," Germany exhaled. "But I… I don't know what I will say to Italy..."

"Don't worry about it," Prussia assured him. "Italy will get it. You wouldn't hurt him on your own accord. Those drugs really messed you up is all."

Germany nodded.

"Come on," Prussia said. "We can go now and see if we can visit Italy!"

The other nodded again. Prussia led the way and took him out from the station. They walked side-by-side together with the sun climbing higher up the sky behind their backs. When they came up to the car, Germany blinked rapidly as though what he saw was unfamiliar. He tilted his head and peered harder at it until Prussia passed in front of him on his way to the driver's side. Germany then flicked his gaze onto him instead.

"Prussia," he said.

Prussia paused and turned around to face him.

Germany looked over him, then continued, "You look tired."

"Oh." Prussia shrugged. "I am. I didn't really sleep well last night. I kept dreaming that the phone was ringing."

"Let me drive then." Germany walked up to him. "You should rest."

"Good idea, West," Prussia chirped while handing the keys over to him. "You take us home while I snooze."

"Which hospital are we going to?"

"He's at the DRK Kliniken… Westend."

Germany patted him once on the shoulder before opening the door and slipping into the car behind the wheel. Prussia slugged around the car, feeling more fatigued now that his lack of sleep had been mentioned. He plopped down into his seat and fumbled to fasten his seat belt. After the click he nestled himself into a comfortable position, but then felt a sudden compulsion to crack open his eyes. He looked over and found Germany observing him. The keys were jammed into the ignition, yet Germany sat there without doing anything else. Prussia's eyes flashed over the seat belt strapped over Germany's upper body, then back to his face.

Prussia was confused for a moment. Germany's eyes seemed sharper than usual, and Prussia was not sure if it was the fault of his tired mind. Germany's face was calm, so no worry arose, but his eyes were definitely off somehow to Prussia.

He felt that it would be a strange thing to ask about, so Prussia just yawned, "What is it?"

"Nothing, sorry. I was… just thinking."

"Oh? About what?"

"Nothing worth discussing. Go to sleep."

Germany started the car finally. Prussia allowed his eyes to fall closed as the vehicle turned out onto the street and picked up speed. The air conditioner blowing on him numbed his mind and body, and soon he was dragged into slumber. At a sudden stop, he twitched and blinked open his eyes. Through a vision that made everything seem like it was made of cotton, Prussia saw the red light hanging before the car. Prussia thought, Why were you driving so fast…? and he meant to ask this, but he fell asleep again before he could.

He missed how at the stoplights, Germany had turned his head to stare at him. Sharp blue bored into his ignorant body; a dry and focused stare. Germany looked on ahead after the light had turned green, yet he continued to throw more glances over at Prussia constantly. Something cold grew within Germany's core that heated his body at the same time. His right eyelid twitched before his eyebrows dipped. Wrinkles spread across his face as it contorted itself into an expression of rage.

Germany flashed Prussia one last look of remorseless ferocity before his eyes feverishly scanned the street ahead. His eyes then settled upon a single object standing strong up in the yard of an apartment: an old oak.

Prussia gasped and let out a scream when the car swerved sharply with protesting screeches from the wheels. The car bumped over the curb and skidded across sidewalk then grass. Prussia saw briefly the object fast approaching through his window before his scream was cut off when the passenger side collided into the tree and the car crumpled inwards with a deafening, metallic crunch.

Locals scrambled forward with cries after seeing the crash. They raced over and arrived on scene as a man pulled himself out from the driver's side. They did little panic dances around him and the car before finding something on the right side that made them scream. Germany shoved them out of the way as he trudged around to the other side of the smoking vehicle to see what they had seen.

Glass littered the ground and the smashed interior of the car. Germany crushed them mindlessly underfoot as he came as close as he could to the wreckage. Here he found Prussia heavily lacerated and jammed in a twisted position against his seat by the door that was folded inwards. His head was flopped over the sill of the window that framed him, and the remaining jagged glass that stuck upwards had stabbed into his throat. Germany paced around the tree in order to see his face, and he discovered that part of Prussia's head was smashed into the tree and a spiderweb of red crisscrossed his face. His mouth hung open a crack and blood bubbled out from him past broken teeth and the ones that had fallen out to lie over his tongue.

Germany walked stiffly past the terrified bystanders as though he was attached to a line. A young man jumped out in front of him, exclaiming, "You can't leave! Hold on, the a-ambulance will come-"

Germany barged past him without ever setting his eyes down upon him. The man scrambled after him, yelling, "Hold on! You'll have to talk to the police, and get checked over- and… your friend…"

Even when grabbed, Germany ignored him to keep striding forward.

"Don't you care?" the stranger asked.

The eyes alight with the shine of a polished blade still saw into a place he had not yet reached.

"Did you injure your head? You were in a car crash, sir…"

The man did not have the strength to hold Germany back. Some others hurried after Germany after noticing that one of the supposed victims was departing and after hearing what was being said. They hopped out in front of Germany while showing him their palms and calling out well-intended things. Now Germany minded them, seeing a sidewalk full of obstacles. He stalked forward and found himself grabbed on all sides by concerned people.

At this time a crowd had gathered around the scene and some cars were slowing so that curious eyes could be satisfied. Employees and customers in nearby shops popped out as well to line the sidewalk on the other side of the street and just up ahead in the direction Germany wanted to head. Germany saw many of them in his peripheral vision and yet this did not stop him from snatching a woman and hurling her at the concrete. After the crack, those around him screamed. Germany grabbed more from the screaming group and threw them away until the path before him was cleared.

He heard the sirens approaching. Someone from the crowd had called for help, yet others were currently videotaping from across the street. Germany bolted away down the sidewalk and struck down anyone who got in his way. He had put a comfortable distance between himself and the crash site before he was passed by the ambulances on his way to the hospital they had departed from.

Then Germany found himself captivated along the way. A shop dedicated to cuisine displayed a shining kit of kitchen knives behind its display window. He turned sharply and a jovial chime announced his entrance. Once inside he found a singular item and grasped it. He whipped around and bolted out with the expensive, stainless steel meat cleaver still in its case. The employee at the counter saw this and hollered before hobbling after the thief. Germany was unaware that he was being pursued yet he had continued on with his run and easily left the chubby employee behind.

As he jogged, he tore at the case for the cleaver. Once it was bared, he did not hide it. He tore through the streets with it chopping the air with every swing of his pumping arm. Multiple calls to the police station were made due to this, yet Germany made it to his destination without being apprehended. He burst into the hospital and charged to the front counter. The worker screamed as Germany managed to growl out a comprehensible, "Where is Italy?"

The woman at the front desk rushed to provide him with an answer. As Germany stood before her, another employee leapt into the room after hearing the screams of all in the front. She took action and dove at Germany, but he heard the movement and swept around his weapon-bearing arm. Her neck was cut and her fall was complemented by more cries.

Germany snarled at the front desk. The other employee shrieked out the room number then cowered. Germany pelted away and once he was gone, the worker could finally sneak her hand towards the phone to call for help. She jolted with a gasp when she heard a screeching just outside the hospital, hesitating with the phone for a few seconds as she watched the form that stumbled inside in shock. Sirens approached in the distance, and so she was left in confusion and did not question the person that limped past the corpse of her coworker.

Bodies littered the floor in the hall up to Italy's room. Silence reigned after the screams had ended, and now Italy shook under his blanket as the arriving footsteps made themselves heard. He gasped when they swerved, and he yelped when Germany strode into the room. The expression of savagery upon his face topped with a generous splatter of blood struck him with intense fear. Italy caught sight of the cleaver just before it was raised into the air. Drops of blood sailed off the blade as Germany raced forward to meet him.

"No- Germany!" he screeched.

A shape leapt into the room releasing a shrill shriek.

"No!"

The familiarity of it petrified Germany. He paused to snap his head to the side. Prussia bowled into him before he could react and sent them both crashing to the ground. Germany let out a saturated hiss through his teeth and struggled to shove off the weight on top of him. Prussia gasped raggedly and dribbled blood over Germany as he strained to pin his arms to the floor. He choked as he cried out, "Italy, run!"

Italy slipped from his bed and stumbled away. He clutched at his chest as he tried to flee as fast as he could with the injuries he had attained. He met a paramedic in the hall, and he gasped out, "Help… Prussia! Germany's gone insane!"

Italy slapped his hands against the wall and hurried forward using it for support. He headed for the exit while the paramedic ran to the room where he heard growling and shouting.

The cleaver dropped from Germany's grasp. Prussia was momentarily relieved until the free hand grabbed him then was joined by the other. Prussia was lifted into the air and held fast by Germany. He squirmed and hollered. One of his arms escaped and pounded Germany's face while his legs flailed. Germany's head snapped back from the blows, yet he did not react to them. Prussia's face switched to present startlement from this. Germany kicked the window and shattered the glass easily as though in a display of his power. A second later Prussia's face lit up in horrified understanding. He writhed, but Germany swiftly jammed his body through the hole so that he was left to vainly fight nothing in the air.

Germany made sure to watch this time, but what he saw displeased him. Prussia snatched the ledge of the window of the floor below before attempting to climb inside. He slipped on his blood then landed with a smack on the grass, but his fall had been broken and Germany was left dissatisfied. Once again, Prussia had pulled through. Germany tore himself away from the window and turned to meet the paramedic who had been in the midst of preparing to attack him. Germany retrieved the cleaver and slaughtered him before he dashed through the hall. He glared as he found only bodies, more victims to create, and no sign of Italy.

The wail of police sirens was familiar even to his animalistic mind. Germany gave up pursuit of Italy as he realized that he needed to resort to flight. Germany made it outside through a back exit and instantly locked his piercing eyes upon Prussia's form curled up on the ground. He ran up to him while pocketing the blade of the cleaver. Prussia was softly moaning, "Italy… I have to…" while he tried and failed to pick himself up. His head turned, then he noticed finally that Germany was over him.

Prussia gasped and tried to drag himself away, but then Germany took a firm hold of his body by hooking his arms under his armpits. Prussia was pulled away with his heels digging shallow troughs in the ground. Germany took him away out of sight of the police and paramedics towards the side road. Prussia cried out for help until they reached the curb.

"Germany!" Prussia squeaked. "Why?"

A large truck was speeding along the street. Prussia heard it coming and he panickingly searched Germany's face. There was no mercy apparent on that visage; neither a frown nor a smile marked it. Those eyes of razor-sharpness stared down at him- those utterly unfamiliar eyes.

The driver did not see them until Prussia's body was hurled out in front of the vehicle. There was no time for the brakes to be smashed. Prussia smacked into the truck and his organs burst before he slipped and the wheels of the left side of the truck rolled over his head. After it was too late; the truck skidded and the blood-soaked wheels ceased to spin. The driver jumped and screamed upon catching sight of the mangled body that his vehicle had left in its wake.

Cracks and chips marked Prussia's head, and his earlier injury was now a hole that leaked sludgy brain matter onto the concrete. His slightly flattened face was pressed to the ground but his dislocated jaw stuck out and held a bowl of revolting soup of blood and more teeth. Grit jabbed into his entire body and a smear of blood and skinned-off tissues trailed up to him. His left hand was crushed like the roadkill of a rodent and was reduced to crunched bones that popped up between strips of bright meat.

The driver vomited to the side then began moaning, "Oh God, forgive me, please…"

The police hurried around the hospital building after being informed of the assailant's location from an observant nurse on the first floor. They were shocked to find only Prussia stuck to the hot pavement and the crying truck driver standing near him with grossly wobbling legs. By now, Italy was safe inside hiding in a locked bathroom as a whimpering, remorseful mess unaware of everything that had just happened. Simultaneously, Germany was taking his leave once again after seeing to it that his brother was truly, dead this time.

If you're here, I assume you survived this chapter. I'm sure there are varied reactions, so go ahead and tell me what you thought of this in a review. Chapters should be coming out weekly so if you are confused, read on.

And once again, a special thanks to my editor CastingWhiteShadows.