Hell's Gate

This was previously going to be a multi chaptered story, but I've given up on writing it, so the only chapter up is now a oneshot, as seen below.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters, but I own the plot of the story. Also, just so you know, I am not sympathetic to the Nazi cause. This was simply written in Germany's persepective. Thank you.


(-Germany-)

The desecrated city of Berlin- if, it can still be called a city, or rather a burial ground of scattered men and fallen buildings- once so great and the heart of all Germany on the foundations of that utopia Hitler once had preached and decieved all with, was gone.

He stood outside of the bunker that had been, for all these months, the last frontier of the approaching Allied soldiers and watched as the last of the flames that burned where the bodies of the Fuher and his new wife had lay (1)- having shot themselves hours prior, too afraid of the path beyond the wrecks of the war, and that war- which had been for years, everything to him and his people in an attempt to restore their lost names- was over.

It felt so pathetic like this, standing in the midst of the bombarded ground of the former battlefield, powerless and waiting for the end in which all things would reach. He was Germany, damn it. It wasn't right- all of this. Nothing was right to the standards of what he had so desperately believed in. Hadn't the war been fought so that his people would be purged of their hunger and their misery bought forth by the Treaty, which was the source of all that misery? The injustice was supposed to be over. it was supposed to end, as Hitler had said to him over and over and over, all this suffering and pain the nation had tried to reverse. then- why could he still hear the wails of the dying soldiers as they fought on fruitlessly for a dead cause? Why could he still see his people, dead- dead- dead, their bodies littered on the streets and their blood staining the Earth? Why?

It wasn't supposed to end this way- none of it was.

He fell on his knees as planes cut through the air overhead, throwing down bombs onto the already destroyed ground. The explosion blinded him, the scattered shards of rubble being blown apart in the lacerations of the already bleeding city and pain followed- still massive pain, despite that this had been nothing too new.

The dream had been so sweet while it lasted, and hope, like always, was honey until it revealed itself as disguised poison.

" Bruder!"Germany heard a hoarse yell come from behind him as a rough hand grabbed his arm and threw him away from the explosives of another blitz attack.

"Scheiße! What the hell are you doing?" the albino shook him, his uniform tattered and bloody and his face clouded with grime, "West-"

" It's over." he whispered, and sank his head onto his brother's shoulder, " It's over."

Prussia cursed as another bomb was dropped in the distance, weakly dragging the blond behind him into the bunker. He wasn't in a better condition, far by it, and it hurt just to walk. His boots hit the cement vehemently, barely supporting Germany, who was hanging onto his arm and half in delusion as they made their way down the stairs, the air a storm with starnds of curses engulfing the tense atmosphere.

" Let me through!" he snapped to an SS guard, his red eyes spitting fire before he located a chair and threw his brother down on it, "We're soldiers, West!" Prussia snarled as he net Germany's empty gaze, " We've always been soldiers! Bruder!"

Even Gilbird let out a shrill cry as the younger refused to respond, his eyes still hollow and empty, away from reality.


So read and review guys...(please? ^^)

(1) After Hitler and Eva killed themselves, their bodies were burned, as he had ordered his generals to do prior to the shooting. It was so he wouldn't be humiliated after death, or some other what not. Look at what went on with Mussolini if you want a picture of what he wanted to avoid.