Italy's fingers inched their way along the knotted, blood stained rope in a vain effort to once again escape the awful reality. (Not his blood, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be long.) Yes, his brother was safe, hiding with the more powerful nations on their secret island off the coast of England. That didn't do anything to help the ache of loneliness, of fear and despair in the "young boy's" heart. Yes, he was surrounded by all the luxuries he ever wanted; servants caring to his every need: "Of course, Master Italy! Right away, Your Greatness!" It didn't remove or even came close to hiding the bars on the windows or the shadow-like guards.
The nation scowled at the ceiling camera in hatred silently shooting at it all the foul words in the book. Stupid Mayans! Stupid bosses! Stupid curse!
When archaeologists found tablets depicting an immortal being, the living spirit of the civilization, the governments of the world started yet another Nation Hunt. The targets, of course, were unfazed. It was normal for this to come around every few decades, and had gotten to the point where this period of heightened attention was just another normal part of life. They had thought it would come and go as usual. They were sorely mistaken.
A few days after the discovery, the leaders of the UN countries got together to discuss their plans. A week later, Italy threatened to invade Austria. The only way to prevent it was if the spirit of Italy was to come up and say no. Austria's leaders weren't worried, nor was the rest of the world. They knew it was fake. The "spirits" had a feeling it was a trick, until Italy's army started advancing towards the border.
Italy knew what would happen as he surrendered and the others fled knowing they couldn't save him, at least not yet. Now, here he was: a prisoner in a small but luxurious government building that was his new home. Every day he was questioned for advice, the identity and whereabouts of his kind, and at least a few hints in translating his copy of the Nation's Book. The first he agreed to, but the other two were a different story. A very close citizen managed to bury any photos or videos before the nation's mansion was invaded.
Then there was the issue of privacy, or rather lack of. Though he couldn't entirely blame them. Surely his children wanted him to be as safe as possible, but then again, this was too much.
Placing the rosary around his neck, he stared out the window at the streets below. Some of the passerbys stopped to wave or salute, but most were in a hurry to eat lunch. Italy returned a forced smile which immediately left as soon as the receiver was out sight. He didn't flinch at the sound of the bedroom door opening.
The President walked in with an envelope and threw it on the table. "I found this in my mail today. Verify it."
Italy looked at it. There were no addresses or names; just the word important in giant letters. In the package was a stack of paper stapled into a book. The title: The Anatomy of a Nation. The draft was written in perfect Italian complete with disturbingly lifelike illustrations.
"What does it look like to you; or can you not read?"
The man wasn't in the mood. "Immortal or not, if I were you I'd be more respectful towards my superiors, especially since your kind is meant to serve their citizens, yes? I need you to see if everything written is accurate."
The nation skimmed through the book looking for the few things his kind already knew. This took up about half the book. The rest was either made up, or someone was guilty of playing with the bodies of the ancients (if there was indeed anything left) Everything was there: cells, powers, limits, death, everything.
Turning to the author note his eyes were immediately drawn to the bold letters at the bottom. "Operation or treatment of a nation living or dead for the sake of science is strictly immoral, inhumane, and illegal. Doing so is equivalent to that of a human and should be punished accordingly."
"Hypocrite!" the president murmured. "Where do you think he got his info from?"
His "servant" blushed slightly with shame at how selfishly he was acting and mentally whispered a thanks that he wouldn't have to be ripped apart! "Everything is true, but it's useless. You still won't find them."
"I know, but you might want to consider that if you take too long, we might have to threaten them out of hiding." The man waved the book for emphasis.
"You wouldn't." The nation glared. "You wouldn't dare lay a finger on your own counrty."
"You're right. I'd hate to, but in the end it's all up to you. What will you choose?"
"Not yet."
The president threw his hands in the air in mock defeat. "Very well. I'll just try again later."
The guards slid back the gate, closing it when the leader had left.