I swear this is WWIII as I see it.
I am CANADA
Alfred F. Jones was not one to get himself into a situation like the one he was currently in.
He was tied - hands and feet - to a straight backed metal chair, in a dank and musty room. He had pulled a muscle in his right arm and chafed his wrists trying to get out. His injuries from his attempted escape only added to the pain from before his incarceration. His whole body ached; he had at least three of his ribs on one side and two on the other. The blonds' face felt like a truck had run over it and he had the worst headache ever and that was counting the beating he got from that thing he did with Arthur's stupid tea! At least his glasses were in place, abate one was shattered but the glass was still in place. Not that it did him any good within the dark room.
To his left Alfred heard a deep groan, and to his right, a shuffling of clothing and more movement. Two other people were in the room with him. He tensed
He tried to peer through the darkness with the little light that came through the barred window. "Who are you?"
Canada
"Bloody Hell! What is going on? Where am I? Why do I feel like I got hit with a cricket bat?" Came the accented voice.
Can't anyone see me?
Al snarled. If he had to be kept locked up in this place he would really rather it not be with his stupid father!
"Sacrebleu! What's happening? It is so dark. Arthur comfort me!"
Andddddd his other stupid father.
"In your dreams frog!" was the tart response.
"Yes well those get old after a few centuries. There are only so many times that one can jerk off to the thought of you in that waiter's outfit." The nation of England sputtered.
"Well now that you two idiots are done with you introduction...."
"Ah~ my dear Al! You are with us too in this horrible prison." Francis said cheerily.
"No shit." he responded sourly.
"Well then Arthur! We have nothing to worry about, the hero is here to save us."
Alfred glared to in the direction of the French nation's voice, but said nothing. Who ever had tied these ropes had done their job right. They had also made sure to tie them to the arms of the chairs instead of around the back, preventing any loosening. The metal chair also prevented him from using his stregnth to shatter it.
"If he could have found a way out he would had done it the moment he awoke." the bushy browed nation argued.
"I just got up a couple seconds before you guys did." Alfred said defensibly.
"Well do we remember why we are in this situation?" Arthur plowed on.
Why? Alfred focused his attention on that, why were they there.
"Nope drawing a blank here!" He responded, putting his cheeky mask back on. You really don't see me do you.
"Well i think i do." Francis' voice stung with betrayal and bitterness.
"As do I. Why don't you think a little harder, hero? It's not that easy to forget." Arthur mocked.
Alfred tried hard to think, but who ever had hit them over the head had done a very good job of knocking out his memories.
"Listen you stupid Brit! I can't remember so if you don't mind-" he cut himself off as the heavy sounding latch on the other side of the door un-hinged causing a deep ringing to sound through out their small room.
The door slowly opened.
No one was there.
Alfred gave a nervous laugh. "Alright Arthur you've had your fun. Now let's call your little friends off and let's all call this a day. I'll even forgive you for everything!"
"It's not me, and thanks for finally say my friends were real – though this is hardly the place and time." Arthur hissed back.
Light flooded into the room from above, causing the three men to go momentartly blind.
"Who?" came a small disembodied voice clearly not coming from the ghostly figure by the door.
As he wavered into the view of the three nations, Matthew looked at his brother and his fathers.
"Canada." Was all he said to the small polar bear at his side.