AN: Alright-y! If you are reading this then I thank you for clicking on my humble piece of literature.*bows* All that you need to know is that I have this head cannon thingy about Russia. People think Russia is all huge and tall, and despite being the largest nation in the world, he is not tall or huge, but rather short and boney due to a bad economy. Weird head cannon I know but it just popped into my head all of the sudden. Well that's enough of my babbling! Onward to the prologue!
Russia ran into his house and slammed the old wooden door shut before sliding all the locks the door had into place. Leaning against it, he slid down its smooth surface before ending up on the cold floor. The skinny Russian covered his eyes with a black gloved hand and gritted his teeth. With his lips pulled back in a snarl , the now trembling Russia removed his hand from its place over his face before letting it fall beside him.
Purple orbs starred at the chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Its clear crystals refracted the warm, soft glow that the light bulb emitted, making it look like a bright and beautiful beacon in a vast sea of darkness.
Darkness...
Oh how he hated that word.
It reminded Russia so much of him.
Fisting his hands and throwing his head back, which caused pain to blossom at the lower part of his skull, Russia started breathing hard. Letting out a mournful and choked cry, the boney figure bolted up and ran from the foyer.
Running up the first two floors, the Russian turned left on the third floor towards his room. Reaching the closed door, he kicked it open before dashing inside. Russia made a bee-line for his night stand and once he reached it, he hurriedly threw it open and rummaged around its inside.
From the depths of the drawer, he drew out a shiny, yet cold revolver. Walking towards a full length mirror, Russia let out choked sob.
Once standing before the mirror, the pale man starred at the reflection that was glaring back at him. He saw the wrinkled coat and scarf that he wore almost everyday. He saw the big black bags underneath tired and teary purple eyes.
Suddenly, Russia's reflection smirked sadistically back at him. The reflection's eyes narrowed while the clear unshed tears turned bloody and raced down its cheeks.
"They want you dead," giggled the reflection in a distorted voice.
"Sh-Shut up..." Whispered the trembling nation.
"You can end it all by pressing that shiny little gun to your temple and squeezing the triggerrrr~." Said the reflection in a sing-song voice.
Russia's hands started to move on their own accord. He popped out the chamber and slowly removed five of the golden-bronze bullets, leaving only one. Popping the chamber back in place, Russia spun the cylinder. When it clicked into place, he slowly raised the cold barrel of the gun to his temple.
Gnawing at his lip until it became a bloody pice of raw flesh, Russia felt his tears stream down his face. With another choked sob, he squeezed his dull purple orbs shut.
"Do you want to end it all?"
Nod.
"Then DO IT!" Growled the reflection towards the end.
Hesitating for a moment, Russia was about to back down when something inside of him snapped at his reflection's voice.
"They all want you dead! Every single one of them!"
A sudden hush fell over everything. The only sound the wide-eyed Russian heard was the ringing in his own ears. Time didn't seem to matter anymore, either.
Slowly curling his index finger around the trigger, Russia vacantly starred straight ahead at the victoriously grinning reflection.
As if he was stuck in a slow motion effect, Russia squeezed the trigger and...
BANG!
Thud...