I'm back and here to make more Hetalia characters suffer :'(
Warnings: Mentions of Rape, Incest, and Character Death
As the Allies left my house, I couldn't help but chuckle. It was all too easy. After the fools left, I looked the all doors, shut the all windows, and headed down the stairs. However instead of it filled with shouting and cursing, it was silent. Had I finally broken him?
"Hello there love, sorry to keep you waiting. Those blasted fools who you consider friends came by today." No answer, he didn't even move.
"They said they had sent out search parties to help find you, though many think your dead!" I laughed escaped from my mouth. It was hilarious how everyone wanted to find America, when he was right here. I walked a bit closer, mindful of how far the chains let him reach. When I got close enough, I nudged his foot.
No reaction what so ever. He wasn't dead, I knew that. This was the git we're talking about! What was wrong with him? I simply refused to believe that America- the America- had given up so easily. How preposterous and utterly idiotic! It was a trick, that's what it was! I am the United Kingdom, and no American gimmick was going to get the best of me!
Inch by inch, I scooted over America. Either he was blatantly ignoring me or he had yet to take notice that I was practically sitting on his lap. I needed a reaction, any reaction. That's the whole reason I took America. Years of separtion had to recooperated somehow, right?
"...America..." I whispered and gently took his face in between my hands. I got him to look up, but I get an emotionless stare. Not even fear which had been his present emotion throughout the month I've had him.
"...I'm done..." His voice was raspy. It sounded painful to hear him speak. I was hurting him wasn't I? I had good intentions obvoisly, but he was no more than a few centuries old. He'd never understand how agonizing it was to hear when he wasn't around me. How distressing it was to see him talk to anyone other than me.
"W-what do you mean? You can't be d-done! You can't give up on me, I won't let you!" Tears threatened to leak out. After all we had been through, he was going to abondon me again. I wouldn't be able bear it if my heart was cracked in two. His head lulled back down and he wouldn't speak.
"W-wait America! Y-you can't do this to me!" I tried again. Attempting to show my love for him through my shaking voice. The tears I had been trying to stop were now running freely down my cheeks. Yet still, only silence greeted me.
The silence it was here again. Tormenting me, suffocating me. Like all those years ago, after all the suffering I had taken. I had America within my grasp, but not his heart. He regarded me with silence. And silence was all that I would receive.
Was I this hated? Was the Holy man that was to be guarding me from above, secretly plotting my demise? Did I really deserve all this?
NO! I had given the Lord everything that would be given. Everything that I considered to be of value to my person, was stripped away. But there was no bloody fucking way that I'd give up America.
As if on cue, the voices came out again. I jumped off America, eyes wide and frightened. Looking left and right, I began to cover my ears.
...Slut...
...Yer nothing, but a fanny...
...Just waiting to fucked...
...Give up...
...Disgusting piece of trash...
"NO! STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE!" So many voices, so many that hated me and wanted me dead. I clutched my ears harder, but to no avail. I caught America staring. Lifting my hand to touch him, for he was my only savior, the voices intensified.
...Quite a wild one we got eh boys...
...Nobody would want someone like you...
...Quit crying you damn babby...
...Whore...
I retracted my hand as if I'd been burned. Memories started surfacing,
"Come now Babby Artie, be a man an' spread yer legs fer yer big brother."
"N-no, p-please your drunk. I-I don't want to do this, Scotland.''
"Ye will do it! If ye like it or not!"
I clutched my ears harder and squeezed my eyes shut. "P-please! I-I don't want to do that brother!" I opened my eyes, but instead of seeing America's blue ones, I saw a green pair much like my own.
The man grabbed me roughly and pulled me closer, "On yer knees slut, I reckon yer old enough to learn a thing 'er two in bed!"
"STOP! AMERICA HELP! PLEASE! T-THE VOICES!" I called out blindly as I tried to get away from my older brothers grip. Then as suddenly as he came, he was gone.
Now I saw myself. I was only a decades old so my body was very small, covered by a familiar green cloak. "Hey look, it's England! Where are you off to? Gonna suck your brother's prick again?" More laughter, more cold words.
Another by came forward one I recognized instantly, " Tsk tsk England, being French I know about special needs but to sleep with your own brother. Revolting!"
"Leave me alone you bloody frog! I did no such thing!" I didn't sleep with big brother, he forced me!
"If like to sleep with your own people, then you should like to sleep with us!" A group of boys said as they closed in on me.
"G-get away! I will not do such a disgusting thing with people like you!" Panic crept into my voice. They had the same look as big brother when...
"We'll show you disgusting!" Stop. Go away. I don't want this.
"AHHH! STOP IT! G-GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" I was awakened from my memories by a pair of hands. Concerned blue eyes stared down at me.
"What's wrong with you, England! No one is here! No one is going to hurt you!" His hands were gripping my shoulders. No he was touching me. He was not America. He was not the Alfred I knew and loved. He was like them.
He was going to hurt me and touch me. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a switchblade. "I won't let you hurt me anymore!" I screamed as I drew the blade down and deep into his chest. Shocked he abruptly let me go, putting pressure on his wound.
I ran at him and stabbed his ribcage. Again and again. I was now stadling his thighs, the small knife colored in red. The voices encouraging me.
...How do you live with yourself...
...Such a weakling...
...Put your mouth to good use...
"Stop it! Stop it! Just stop!" I screamed, my tears blinding me. Where was America? He promised to be my hero, didn't he? The voices stopped and I had deemed them gone, until I heard a strong and rebellious, young voice.
...England...
...You use to be so...
...big...
"NO!" My blade was brought down and plunged into Alfred's chest. Right in the heart of the nation. I sobbed as I realized that all the voices were true.
Alfred choked and sputtered as blood poured from his mouth. "Ar...tie..." he struggled to speak, "I...love...you..." Those words were the last I heard. The weight of my crime finally dawned me. I killed America, my Alfred.
"America...Alfred, get up lad. Don't be a stick in the mud, you know it's rude to play tricks on your elders." I chuckled as more tears slid from my eyelids. "Y-you can't leave me Alfred! You've left me once already..."
My vision began to fade as I felt my heart speed up its normal rate. It got harder to breathe and I crashed into a heap of Alfred's blood. The last I saw was a pair of boots coming toward us. Then everything blacked out.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
My eyes slid open as I heard a machine. Where was I? What happened?
Beep beep beep
I was in a white room that reeked of medication. I saw France comforting a crying Canada, China and Japan whispering quietly, and Russia looking at me with a smile full of malice.
"Ah, privet England. Seems you have done my job for me, da?" He told me in a low voice, making sure that no one heard. "I do not appreciate it" his smile gone replaced with a scowl. His hand gripped my throat and clenched, cutting off my oxygen supply. I clawed at his hand but my pathetic attempt only angered him further.
"Ivan, aru! Let him go!" The offending hand vanished and I greedily took gulps of air. I cupped my throat as to protect it, feeling bruises forming already, and stared warily at Russia. He was once again smiling, acting as if he had not been strangling me to death earlier.
Suddenly, two men dressed all in white barged in. They came and took me by the arms. I immediatley started struggling calling out, "America! America help!" My outburst only seemed to make Canada cry harder, and all countries glared at me with looks of disgust. The men dragged me out of the hospital into a van, where they hancuffed me. I faintly heard Russia call out, "Dasvidaniya* comrade!"
They took me to an asyulm, where I was to spend the rest of my unnatural life untill I showed signs of recovery. Instead of hancuffs they strapped me into a straight jacket, and hauled me off to my room. Once I had been locked into the my personal cell, a voice came back. And I would have rather face all the others than this one. It was America's voice.
...Bet your happy now...
...Murder...
...How does it feel to be hated...
...You killed me England...
...Take responsibility...
...Burn in hell...
...I hate you...
I couldn't take it anymore, he was driving insane! I feebily crawled over to the door and shouted to the guard on the other side. "Please!" I begged, "Make it stop! Just kill me!"
The guard looked back and I saw familiar blue eyes with the same stupid grin, "Sorry I can't do that Artie! You see, if I killed you that would be no fun! I'd rather see you live and suffer in agony for what you have done." The guard stood up and I realized in horror that he was Alfred.
I scooted to the farthest corner and screwed my eyes shut. Curling up into a ball, I prayed that this was a dream. Nothing but a horrible nightmare. Maniac laughter is what I was rewarded with. Tears stung my eyes as I looked up at the 'hallucination', and starting screaming as I saw blood pouring from a whole in his chest.
...You'll never be free...
...You are mine now...
...But don't worry...
...We can burn in hell together, sweetheart...
Dasvidaniya*-Until we meet again
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