Prisoner
A 2p! Hetalia story
She's a fighter, surviving on this war-corrupted world alone. Her parents died on a ruling raid, yet she still smiles. Helping the people of the small poverty-stricken town she lives in, giving what she can to the helpless, broken, and beaten. Most consider her an angel, others, a Threat. After word gets out that there is someone helping the riot criminals, she isn't so invisible anymore. The country rulers-aka the snapped personifications- seem to have their eye on her. It could go for the better, or the worse…. But who knows in this corrupted world they live in?
By: AuLaura Wilkinson
~Preface~
"It seems we all got the 'invitation' to this 'meeting'" Sneered a man, looking to be about 22 years of age, with dark tanned skin, reddish-brown hair and striking red eyes, wearing a bloodied bomber jacket and carrying a nail-clad baseball bat over his shoulder.
The shorter man next to him giggled happily, he looked to be about 20 years old, and had light pink hair and blue, pink and green eyes, wearing pink sweater vest, blue bowtie, white dress shirt and beige/tan slacks. "Well, I think we all know the 'gentleman' who brought us here~ Tehe~" He giggled drunkenly.
The Brown haired man rolled his red eyes, "What-the-fuck-ever" He huffed, obviously not pleased with the other.
Suddenly the lights went out and a sinister giggle was heard, "Buonasera~" The lights came back on and all chatter stopped- mostly because everyone was glaring at the man in the throne-chair at the front of the giant room.
The man gave them a close eyes smile, his dark auburn hair shining, and his dark Italian skin free of any blemishes, before he opened his eyes, revealing glowing pink, red and brown orbs, filled with sinister and sadistic thoughts. He wore a tan suit, his country's military uniform, and a small hat on his head. "I-a think you are-a all curious as-a to-a why I-a 'called' you-a here?" He stated more then asked in his thick Italian accent, his eyes closing and his small smile morphing into more of a sadistic smirk.
The brown haired man from before growled, as well as his brother, a man with dirty blonde hair tied into a ponytail at the back, wearing black sunglasses and wearing a Canadian Mountie uniform, "Yeah. Why the fuck did you drag us all here you fucking hoser!?" The blonde Canadian man yelled angrily, his grip tightening on the bloodied hockey stick in his hands.
The Italian only giggled in response and another Italian-this time with blonde hair and red eyes, the same odd curl sticking out of his head as his brother, only on the opposite side- came up beside him, and he wore a bright red scarf, with a silk white suit and a dark blue dress shirt. The blonde Italian smiled, "Ciao Idioti~" He said in a deep Italian accent, accurately pissing off the majority of the countries in the room. "Scusate il ritardo~"
The brown haired Italian ignored his brother and continued on, that same sadistic look etched on his babyish face, "Bene, I-a Called you-a all here because-a of a little 'predicament'~ It-a seems we-a have a piccolo ribelle among our-a little humans~"
As people started complaining, saying that the humans were too much of pussies, a voice piped up from the back, "It's true, da. I have heard of little girl." The strong Russian accent said, voice lined with fake innocence.
A few of the countries flinched at the voice of the brooding Russian, but held their ground. Some of them agreed with the man though, the German, the Japanese man, and the Spaniard. The brown haired Italian opened his eyes, "Sì, So a few of you have heard of her. Yes, from what I have heard, she is quite the 'artist'~"
The Spaniard nodded, "Si, mi amigo, I heard la niña been helping with the riot criminals, treating the wounds, Fusosososososos~" He laughed creepily.
"Ja, und I heard she is in charge of the stealing" The German Agreed.
"Hai, I heard she arso sings to the town she rives in." The Japanese man exclaimed monotone.
The Brown haired Italian smirked, "So now-a that we-a have a bit of-a 'information' on this-a piccolo razzaga, we can-a start this, ve~?" He laughed sinisterly, "Now, as-a you all-a know, normally we do not-a put up with-a problems like-a this, but-a, I have-a taken a 'liking' to-a this razzaga. So-a, lets-a play a game~"
Some of the countries furrowed their eyebrows, exclaiming their confusion in various ways, The German turned to Italy, "Italy, Vhat do you mean?"
Italy cocked his eyebrow and smirked, eyes closed, "Just-s let me-a explain~ It's a free-a for all-a, You may-a do whatever you'd like to-a the razzaga, but do not-a kill her. If-a she is-a stolen once she's been captured, it's-a allowed. We-a have a year to play-a. Tre, due, uno, vai!" He giggled.
And with that, the poeple in the room filed out, some happy with the concept of 'keep away', and some annoyed.
The Italian man giggled evily, his grin as sinister as the devil, "and so, Let the games begin~"