Chapter 1
"Germany!" Feliciano skipped towards Germany with his innocent smile on his face. Ludwig knew better than to fall for that trick a second time, though. That was how he ended up in this warehouse, tied to a chair: Feliciano played the innocent, lost idiot and led Ludwig to this place where he was attacked a bunch of thugs who seemed to only listen to Feliciano.
"Germany, you're not listening to me," Ludwig was snapped out of his flashback by the Italian slapping his already bruised cheek to get his attention, "You know how much I hate it when you ignore me." Feliciano pulled out a handgun and aimed it between Ludwig's eyes, "I asked you, where is Romano?"
"I-I didn't d-do anything with him," Ludwig quickly lied. Ludwig hoped that if he just quietly got rid of Romano, the clueless northern half wouldn't notice for awhile and even if he did, he didn't think Feliciano would figure out who had done it. Obviously, he was wrong on both accounts.
"That's not what I asked, but thanks for confessing. So, Ludwig, are you going to cooperate, or do I have to kill you?" Feliciano asked, all innocence gone from his voice.
"You wouldn't. I-I thought we were family?" Ludwig replied, desperately looking for a distraction.
"No, my friend, you're almost family. Just a friend though, and not related by blood, so not as close. And you're right I can't kill you yet, I still need information from you. But as long as you can still talk, I'm free to do whatever I want," the Italian replied with an evil glint in his eye.
Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief as Feliciano lowered the gun and walked away, but then the realization of what he said hit him. Feliciano had crossed the room to a small table set up and looked over the assortment of weapons. He first picked up huge butcher knife, mumbled something about how it would be impractical, and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed, point down, right next to Ludwig's feet, and before he could recover from that shock, a throwing knife sailed towards him and embedded itself in the back of the chair Ludwig was in. Ludwig froze and, once he recovered, he looked from the knife to the thrower, who was standing across the room looking proud.
"I've always wanted to do that," he said excitedly, "Let's see if I can do it again!" Feliciano rummaged through the weapons on the table looking for another throwing knife and, when he found one, hurled it towards Ludwig but missed the chair, hitting his shoulder.
"Scheiße, scheiße, scheiße!" Ludwig screamed.
"Oops, guess not…" Feliciano said, some of his former innocence creeping into his voice, "And stop screaming, it isn't that bad," Feliciano taunted Ludwig before pulling the knife out.
"Also, notice that isn't the same blood as Romano and I," he said holding the bloody knife in front of the German's face, "I can tell because both Romano's blood and your blood were at the Romano's house. I guess he put up quite a fight, si? I wouldn't expect anything less from him"
"How did you-?"
"The Mafia has more connections than the old Italy. It makes finding people much faster," Feliciano interrupted while wiping off the knife, "So are you ready to tell me what you did with him?"
Ludwig stared dumbfounded, still in shock about the 'Mafia' part of what Feliciano said, so he took Ludwig's blank stare as a no. In the brief pause, Feliciano had picked up a solid wooden baseball bat and swung it at Ludwig's head.
"You know, I think I should get into this baseball game. I could be really good at it," Feliciano mused while waiting for Ludwig to focus again, "Ready?"
Ludwig shook his head.
"Aw…really? How about now?" Feliciano followed with another swing of the bat, this time at Ludwig's ribs, "Still no?" another hit with the bat at his leg this time. When Ludwig made no reply, Feliciano swung once more, at his other leg. Over Ludwig's screams Feliciano heard a sickening crunch and paused for a moment, inspected the bat, and then poked Ludwig in the leg with it, causing him to scream louder.
"I think you broke my bat, Ludwig," Feliciano pouted, "Well, enough of that anyway." he said tossing the bat aside. He kicked over the chair, with Ludwig in it, causing him to crack the side of his head that wasn't hit with a bat on the floor.
"There, now your head will swell evenly. So are you ready to give in yet?" Feliciano asked, sounding bored.
"He-he's at A-Alfred's," Ludwig forced out.
"Finally! Now that's taken care of…" Feliciano said, relieved, and started his next task. He gathered a few containers of gasoline he stashed there earlier and dumped them on the floor and everything else in the warehouse. He then went over to the table full of weapons, picked a few he wanted to keep, put them in his pocket, and knocked the table over.
"I have to keep my favorites you know, as good luck charms," he explained to the semi-conscious German on the floor, "By the way, where's your phone?"
Since Ludwig was too dazed to answer at the moment, Feliciano checked all of his pockets until he found it and dialed a random number in Ludwig's contact list. After a few rings the other line picked up with a peppy, "Bonjour, mon ami!"
"Ah. Francis," Feliciano whispered to Ludwig and tossed the phone towards him, "Tell him where you are and nothing else."
Ludwig managed to tell Francis the location of the warehouse, leaving out any details including Feliciano, as the Italian now had a gun pointed at his head. Once he finished, Feliciano took the battery out of the phone and threw it across the warehouse. He then took a very expensive looking lighter out and started to walk towards the door.
"Feliciano, why-why would you do this to me?" Ludwig asked in a final attempt to save his life.
"Because," Feliciano replied stepping outside the ring of gasoline on the floor, " No one messes with family."
He tossed the lighter on the ground and set the warehouse up in flames before casually walking off to complete his revenge.