Niki: This is my first Fan-fic but i like the way it turned out. Critics are welcome but please don't be rude about it.
Chapter Summary: Prussia has a revelation. In the meantime Ivan thinks he is just imagining things.
Warning: Violence, Mild Language.
Disclaimer: Do you really think an 8th grader can own something as awesome as APH?
Gilbert dashed through the alleyways knocking over trash bins and disturbing hordes of rats and mice. A bullet ricocheted off a nearby dumpster cutting into his shoulder and making him lose his footing for a second. But a second was all they needed to gain on him. He could almost feel them behind him, just waiting for the right moment to strike. To tear him to pieces. Why were they chasing him in the first place? He couldn't remember what he did to end up running for his life through these gott forsaken streets. He turned a corner sliding on the wet ground and stumbled as he realized too late that it was a dead end.
His pursuers slowly filed into the gap that he had come from but Gilbert kept his back towards them. He knew he was trapped. He knew there was no way to talk himself out of this. Yet above all he knew his life was about to come to an abrupt stop. How he knew though was still beside his grasp on reality. Someone shouted an order in Russian and he turned around just in time to see the crowd of soldiers part. A tall figure that held himself with an air of authority and command slid through the narrow gap with ease and stopped just a few meters short of Gilbert and the wall that doomed his existence.
"You are quite the slippery one, da," the man said with an amused smirk on his smug little face. The Prussian grinned viciously and spat blood onto the ground right at his feet.
"Slippery is not something I would have described myself as Ivan, you of all people should know that," Gilbert growled out knowing he was only prolonging the inevitable. His shoulder was a torn mess and warm red liquid was spilling out at a steady pace. It was already getting harder to breathe and he knew that the Russian bastard would only make things worse for him if he made too many snarky remarks.
Ivan tsked him shaking his head in a mock sadness, "It is too bad, you had so much potential. I was upset when you turned down my offer to become part of my territory, but I can always find another subject." A spark mixed of greed and malice flashed through his deep violet eyes, making Prussia retreat closer to the brick impediment. He did not usually back down from a threat but he had learned that Russia would not only hold a promise, but sometimes deliver it ten times worse than he had described. Just like he had done with his bruder Ludwig.
Ludwig had tripped that fine line that separated Ivan's insanity from the rest of the world. The consequences were fatal. When Ludwig had been massacred his nation had simply vanished. There was nothing left but a large crater full of rubble and lost souls, slowly dying and fading out of existence. When Germany had been destroyed the entire world felt the loss. Most of the other nations, however, got over it. Only Gilbert and Feliciano still carried the weight of of the lost Ludwig on their shoulders. Forever lingering in their minds like a shadow when there is no light to cast it.
Prussia was snapped back to the present when Ivan started to laugh maniacally out of no where. Even his men seemed to be taken aback by the sudden outburst of his demented mind and many of them stepped away from him. Ivan looked Gilbert in the eye with a grin that slightly hid a snarl.
"I am deeply sorry it had to end this way, I believe we could have had so much more in this world, da?" Gilbert's eyes widened as Russia approached him, pulling a metal pipe out from behind his back. Gilbert tried to dodge but Ivan lodged the object through his chest. He crumpled trying to pull it out as the Russian bastard watched in amusement. The pain was excruciating and Gilbert was surprised he had not passed out yet. He could not breathe through his left lung and the metal was dangerously close to his major arteries. His strength gradually departed as the blood poured out forming a lake of red water. It had started to rain and the blood was washing down the alleyway mixing with all the grim and soot from the nearby factories. Hands going limp and eyes clouding over with the hand of death dragging him away, he looked up to the sky at the endless clouds of gray. I guess I will be seeing you soon bruder, he thought right before the last of his energy was washed out with his blood.
The last thing he saw was the dark overcast sky, penetrated by Ivan's bright eyes that gleamed with a cruel cold victory. And then the world engulfed him in black shadows, closing his view from this world forever... or so he thought.
Gillian woke up clutching her chest in pain. The lingering wisps of the dream still invaded her mind. Who was the one that had killed her? She couldn't remember what his name was but she was sure it was a guy. Who was the one called Ludwig that she had thought about? The word bruder flashed through her mind while she was contemplating. And Feliciano? No such reminition told her who he or she was. Sighing she let the already fading dream release her. It always gave her a headache when she tried to remember her before-death experience.
Getting up, she stumbled to the nearby waterfall to wash away the dirt and leaves that still clung to her skin. She was having a difficult time finding her way out of...wherever this was. For all she knew there was no one else in the world besides herself. Yet something told her in the back of her mind that wasn't true. She sat under the freezing water letting it wash away her troubled thoughts. Just like the rain had done to her blood in the dream.
No!
She was not going to think about the dream anymore. It hurt her to think she was carelessly slaughtered in the middle of nowhere, but that voice told her it wasn't careless. It was planned and organized to drive her to the dead end. Where she would have begged for mercy if she had not known that it wouldn't have changed Ivan's mind.
Ivan.
That was his name, also called Russia or the Soviet Union at one point.
Russia.
That is where she was stranded. What did she know about Russia? It was cold all the time. Raining one quarter of the time and snowing the other three. It was a massive nation stretching out over Asia and Europe. The government officials were neat freaks when it came to wars. But Russia himself was a psychotic murderer. Wracking her brain she remembered that they had not been on good terms for... pretty much forever.
She noticed her hands were shaking from the cold and stepped out from the fall. Letting the winds dry her she started walking towards the East. The direction she had been going ever since she woke up alone on that mountain. At least she knew which way the ocean was and which way civilization is. However, Gillian did not notice the figure that followed silently through the treetops.
Ivan stared at the letter in his hand. It composed of three words that he wished were lies. It had taken him forever to get rid of the ignorant brat. And now news was spreading.
He is back.
There were pictures of Prussia. But it was female, not male. And her clothes were the same that Gilbert had been wearing on the night Gilbert had died. It just wasn't possible for him to be back. And as a girl? The odds weren't even one in a billion. Yet it still happened.
Or maybe it didn't.
Maybe this was just a prank. Someone trying to get back at him for all those times he had almost destroyed the world. For World War Three and now World War Four. But if it was a joke then how did this person know he had killed Prussia. Ivan had made it look like a terrorist group had killed him. And he had made sure no evidence that he was there got out. The men he used to chase Gilbert into the dead end were all escaped prisoners. They were given a drug afterwards that made them forget what had happened Forty-eight hours before. Which was more than enough time for them to not even know who he was.
He ruled out a cruel joke and searched his memory for anyone that new who had killed Gilbert. There was no one he could remember. Except Feliciano but he was Ivan's bodyguard. He had been trained in every Russian stealth camp available and then trained by Ivan himself.
Furthermore, the Italian was on a mission to find who was portrayed in the pictures and interrogate her. She just couldn't be Prussia. Most of the pictures were terrible shots from very far away. However, one of them was taken from above, capturing her long silver hair and deep blood red eyes. She had scratches from trekking through the undergrowth and bruises from falling. But what stood out the most was that stubbornly determined glare that Ivan would know anywhere.
Yet he still thought it was all his mind playing tricks on him, or even a deeply drowned guilt that would never reach his lips to be spoken.
Niki: Too obvious who the figure following Gillian is, da?
Next Chapter: Gillian meets the person she can't remember, meanwhile England gets word of Prussia's return.