Warnings: Snapped!Finland, character death, blood, language
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Pocahantas.
Summary: Nobody knew just what he was capable of. Nobody expected the day he would snap. Now, he's out for revenge.
Translations:
Villejä—Savages
Ensin tämä yksi, sitten sotarumpu soi—First this one, then the war drum will sound!
Nyt kohtaa heitä kuolema—Now they will meet Death!
Nyt on teidän vuoro—Now it's your turn!
Sotarumpu heille soi—The war drum sounds to them!
"Villejä! Savages!"
How had it come to this?
Sweden backed away from an enraged Finland. His bloodied broadsword skittered across the floor, and the pistol in his belt was gone, ripped from his hand.
Behind him, Denmark, Iceland, and Norway lay with their weapons (and several bones) broken. Further behind them, rank after rank of dead soldiers in Swedish uniforms lay in gruesome positions.
In Finland's hands, a man lay dead. He was the former Finnish president, a young man who had risen to power and helped Finland back onto his feet after the disastrous Third World War.
However, he had turned Finland into a totalitarian state. He had oppressed thousands, and he had killed whoever got in his way.
Even as Tino felt the deaths of his citizens like a knife wound, he stayed loyal to his new leader.
Even as he knew of the slaughter going on in his forests, he stayed loyal.
Even as the cheerful smile he used to wear morphed into one of utter insanity, he stayed loyal.
Berwald, however, saw these differences in his friend. He saw the scars that slowly appeared on Finland's face when the killings began. And he of course noticed when Tino would occasionally come to his house to visit, splattered from head to foot in red blood.
So he had killed the Finnish 'president.'
He had expected the surprise and the hurt on Tino's face. He had expected the crying and the chaos.
But he had not expected the anger. He had not expected it when the petite Finn had stood up abruptly and declared war on Sweden.
And he had not expected Finnish tanks to sweep aside his forces like they were mere matchsticks. He had not expected his aircraft to be blown from the sky as soon as they took off.
Berwald had run. For the first time in his life, he felt actual terror at the nation he had once called "m'wife" and had protected for so long.
But his back was now to the sea. Stockholm had fallen, and so had Copehagen. Oslo was a smoldering ruin, and the Icelandic Navy lay rusting at the bottom of the sea.
Berwald stared through a sheet of agony into Finland's blood-crazed violet eyes. They bore a strange resemblance to those of Russia, but the expression shining from Tino Väinämöinen's face would have made Russia quake in terror.
Tino stepped forward, and the other Nordics unconsciously backed away.
Tino spoke in a hoarse, raspy voice that was nothing like the happy tone he used to use when giving out presents during wartime.
"I hated you, Sweden."
The words cut Sweden's heart clean in two.
"You said you would be there to protect me. But where were you when Russia attacked me? Where were you when Germany was burning Lapland? WHERE THE FUCK WHERE YOU?"
Sweden's normally aloof voice shook with fear. "I c'ldn't... H'd t' pl'y ntr'l..."
BANG!
Sweden screamed out as a bullet ripped its way through his lung. He fell back into the red-stained snow.
"NEUTRAL?" Finland shrieked, waving his smoking rifle in every direction. "You never gave a shit what happened to me! You only cared as long as I was under your rule!"
Sweden wanted to tell Finland the truth that he had never been able to say, that he had always cared. But the pain squeezing his torso kept him from uttering a single word.
Finland turned to his soldiers, and snapped out a command.
"Ensin tämä yksi, sitten sotarumpu soi!"
The Finnish troops cheered. As one, they shouted, "Nyt kohtaa heitä kuolema!"
Sweden could only watch through dimming eyesight as Tino raised his rifle again. "L-let's see how y-your blood looks, Berwald!"
The CRACK of the rifle could be heard across the Baltic in Germany and Denmark. Sweden's head snapped back, a neat hole appearing between his eyes. His blood slowly leaked out, turning the pristine snow a harsh vermillion.
Finland laughed an insane laugh. He turned to the other Nordics, and addressed them and the entire world. "Nyt on teidän vuoro!"
The harsh staccato of machine gun fire reverberated around the icy Baltic strait.
But Finland's rampage of vengeance and war had only just begun. He turned back to his troops and roared,
"Sotarumpu heille soi!"