DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia.

How can I be screaming? If I was screaming, certainly he could hear me. The protests in my mind were deafening, so why was he so unaffected?
How could he look at me like that? So eager to take my life. I can't stand his pleasure in my suffering.
I can't help but feel pity for this man, this monster. His loneliness must be overwhelming.

Prussia pointed the gun firmly at the prisoner kneeling before him, a menacing grin spread across his features. He let out a blood-curdling laugh as the man begged to be freed with his life. The captive was exhausted and beaten from war; however, he was still persistent. He spoke endlessly about how he had a wife to go home to, a family to support. But the Prussian simply didn't care. When he had enough of his complaining, he kicked him down, forcing the man to lie motionlessly on his side. The impact made the weak man shriek with pain. This only made Prussia laugh louder.

"Family! Do you think I care?" he said, grabbing the man's heavily bloodstained shirt, he held him above the ground. "Your country is foolish for picking a fight with me." He threw him mercilessly into the wall, earning himself a satisfying cracking noise. The man slid onto the floor, breathless and desperate to escape, but too frail to try. He let himself fall still; letting go of his emotions and turning off his senses. "You make me sick. I'm finished."

The man's eyes flickered open on instinct. He was aware of his fate, but he couldn't protest. But in his mind, every fiber of his being was telling him to stand up, to fight. Every part of his mind was yelling at him to continue. I'm screaming, the man thought, but how come no one can hear me?

It took every muscle to open his mouth. All he was able to get out was a small moan, but it was too late. He felt a sharp pain in his forehead as he fell to the ground.

Eyes still open; he was losing his vision rapidly. The last thing he saw was the cruel man walk away in victory. The final thing he heard was the man's maniacal laugh.

And finally, he let himself fall into an unstoppable oblivion of sleep where he couldn't wake up.

Finally, Prussia thought. That's over. Stepping outside, he examined the world around him. His surroundings were so dull: gray clouds, dead flowers, not a color in sight. He kept walking through the lifeless leaves, a crunching noise under his feet with every step. Honestly, he had no idea where he was going, but he traveled. For miles, he stared straight ahead, focused only on continuing. Soon enough, night fell, and stars replaced the grim clouds.

A small bit of yellow on the ground caught his eye. He rushed over to where the color was, surprised at what he discovered.

A small boy lay on the grass, unconscious and heavily injured. His blonde hair hung around his face. He wore a ripped black cloak, tunic, and tan breeches. Prussia checked the youth's pulse. Still beating, Prussia thought, but only barely.

He picked him up and held the boy in his arms without thinking, sharing his warmth. Prussia surprised himself with his own actions. He was shocked that he had welcomed the child so quickly without hesitation. He didn't know he was so capable of something so merciful. In fact, he didn't know why he was helping the boy. It would've caused him less trouble to forget ever seeing him at all.

But to leave him there seemed heartless. Prussia chuckled to himself. He had the nerve to say that deserting him was cruel, but he just murdered a man without cringing. Taken his life with no regrets. Left his body to rot. And even now, he felt not even a shred of guilt. Turning around, he walked, his eyes full of purpose.

He ventured towards his home, clutching the child against his chest. He memorized the pattern of his steady breathing. As the weather around them grew colder and the wind became stronger, Prussia held the boy tighter to keep him warm.

After countless miles, he finally reached his home. For someone as inhumane as himself, he had an exquisite house. A stunning mansion stood before him, colored dark brown with golden-framed windows. Prussia snickered at how welcoming it looked. If someone didn't know better, this house could belong to an angel. He entered the mansion, careful not to accidently hit the little kid's head on the doorframe.

Despite his precaution, his head hit the doorframe anyway. Prussia sighed. "Sorry, I'm still new to this." he murmured. He breathed, climbing silently up the stairs to the closest bedroom.

Navigating around the mansion without Prussia is near impossible. Several hallways and corridors lead to innumerable rooms. The stairways branched into smaller ones. There are three stories and a basement. It was quite easy to get lost if you lack Prussia's help. In fact, he had a reputation of leaving his guests during a tour so he could watch the panic from afar.

Finding the bedroom, he went in, this time extra careful to keep the child's head safe. Prussia crossed the floor to the bed and set him down, tucking him into the scarlet-colored fabric. He stroked his blonde hair lightly, sweeping it away from his closed eyes. That's cute, the Prussian thought to himself. Wait, what?

He literally smacked himself for thinking something so stupid. Great, he thought. Look at what you're doing to me. He shook his head.

Without another glance at the boy, he stepped out, closing the door behind him.

A/N: I can't believe how I wrote Prussia in the beginning. He truly scared me. I'll be updating chapters soon, so be on the lookout! Please favorite, review, etc. Much appreciated! :D