AND SO I RETURN!
So, hey guys. It's been a while. I just needed a break to do some art after part two of our duo finished 'Forest of Angels' (which will continually be fixed as things roll in, she claims). I've decided to return, because both Defeated and Seven Days where huge hits with you guys. Defeated got 22 reviews (pretty good for something that was put up so fast) and Seven Days got 41! So, I, thy who lie of cookies in the dark side, have decided to make another dark fanfic for you.
*evil grin*
Lemma know what y'all think, and if it should continue.
NOTE: Quick summary: The Second players show up all like 'let's take control of what we deserve!' And slowly start to take out first players. When Luciano -second player Italy, for those who don't know- gets a hold of Feliciano -first player Italy- he gets all like 'haha bitch, you're mine now, and I do what I want' *continues to be pervs and creepy and domminant* all while Germany is trying to figure out how to escape, and at the same time protect both Italy and Prussia.
May turn into M later, or have M triggers.
Naive.
This was how many described him. He knew that they where right.
He let out a muffled, shaky sigh.
He could feel his cheek pressed against the cold wooden floor. His amber eyes where glued to the floor a few inches in front of him. He could feel the cold tear tracks on his face, cooling with every slight breeze leaking through the barely cracked window. He could feel his wrists and arms bound tightly with thick, splintery cords. His booted ankles where also bound, ropes winding around his thighs. He was rendered unable to move, and unable to speak as the gag tied around his head was pulling into the sides of his cheeks, scabbing and bruising the corners of his mouth.
Naive was a good way to define him.
He was aware of how cheerful he usually was, how trusting, how innocent he seemed. And he was, at least until now. He would be scarred by this. He knew it.
It was cold. Very cold.
He could feel the breeze filtering gently in through the window. It brushed against his face, making the tear tracks there seem frozen. His skin stung with every chilling breeze. His faded blue uniform did nothing to keep the cold out. The belt sinched around his waist was beginning to hurt, digging into his side as he lay, curled up there.
When he glanced up from his corner, he could see the room he was in. It was small, maybe seven feet long, and the door was in the corner. The walls where blank and grey-white, a thick layer of dust covering the floor. The only furniture in the room was the thick white curtain draped over the window, and a dresser of some sort near the door. A single, coverless light hung from the center of the room.
He could see Matthew curled up a few feet away, tied and gagged just like he was. The goggles he always wore over his head where on the floor, skid marks in the dust from having them fall off. He also saw Arthur leaning against the wall, seemingly unconsious. His head was leaning against the dresser, and he was breathing lightly through the gag.
Feliciano let himself shiver violently. It truly was cold.
He could feel his toes grow numb.
He closed his eyes, letting his face roll over slightly. He could feel his chest heaving slightly as he breathed. As his ear was pressed against the floor, he could hear someone speaking downstairs. It was a deep, quiet voice, muffled through the floor, and he could make out the occasional word. He could definately hear some sort of high pitched voice, that somewhat resembled Arthur's. He could make out the squeaky voice, some sort of clinking or slamming downstairs, the dull sound of telivision programs playing.
Feliciano let his head tilt out of sheer boredom, his short red-copper hair and the back of his head now covered in dust. His round face was gaunt as he stared at the ceiling. He could hardly stand the sheer silence, and he would have attempted to whisper back and forth with Matthew, if not for the gags. He hated the cold. How could someone leave the window cracked in the middle of winter? He was lucky his uniform was just barely thick enough to trap his body heat.
He attempted to sit up. His body swayed as his spine bent from the effort of pushing himself up without his hands, his bound legs splayed awkwardly to the side. He could feel himself let out a shaky sigh, trying to stop his head from spinning. He had been laying down so long, his head now hurt, the groggy, sick feeling washing through his mind in a painful way. He shuddered.
He slowly inched his way over to the window, pushing himself with his feet and worming cross the wooden floor. After a few minutes, he reached the lone window, slipping his head under the curtain and popping his chin on the sill.
He couldn't make out where he was. There was snow on the ground outside, but it had melted some. The driveway was empty, but there where tire tracks in the snow. He could see a few twisted trees. There was a fence a few yards away, and a street a few yards from that, sheltered by leafless trees.
Suddenly he heard footsteps marching up the stairs. Franticly, he jerked away from the small window and threw himself on the floor, causing Matthew to flinch. He let his breathing slow as quickly as he could, trying to make it seem as if he had been laying there the whole time.
As soon as he was situated, the door was thrown open. Both him and Matthew flinched so hard he almost kicked out in instinct.
He craned his neck to see his second player standing in the doorway. His second player seemed relaxed, wearing his military boots tightly, a pair of tan military grade pants on, slightly baggy. He wore a black button down shirt, a maroon tie tied loosly. His auburn hair was messy, as if he had been sleeping earlier. His maroon eyes had dark circles beneath them, and he had a half-existent smile. That smile made him shiver and look down, sqweezing his eyes shut.
Within momments he felt someone gripping his hair. He let out a whimper, tears already forming in his eyes.
"Mm..." He kept his eyes sqweezed shut, and he heard someone chuckle.
"Mmmph!" He heard someone else. He cracked open his eyes to the doorway. He knew that voice. His eyes widened as he spotted someone tall -he assumed it was Matthew's second player- dragging Ludwig into the room.
Ludwig was fighting, and it looked as if he had already been in quite a fight. Strands of hair where hanging in his face, and his face was red and angry. He was already tied up and gagged, but it was clear he was fighting and he wouldn't stop anytime soon.
Feliciano could feel himself freeze up, and tears begin to work their way down his face. Feli began to squirm as Ludwig was thrown to the floor with a loud thud.
"Mmmph!" Feliciano could feel himself scream through the gag. His second player Luciano pulled his hair, silencing him.
He could feel his knees buckle as he was allowed to collapse to the floor. Luciano kicked him, before picking him up by the hair again. He twisted, and for a momment he and Ludwig made eye contact. Feliciano was aware of the tears streaming down his face. Ludwig looked like an angry bear, but he simply sat there in shock. He stared back, letting fear resonate through his entire body as his second played grabbed his jaw.
He was released, and then thrown to the floor forcefully. His head collided with the boards, and he could feel his head spinning. He let out a whimper of pain as he was lifted by his hair once again. This time he was facing his second player, but he could hear Ludwig and Matthew -and Arthur, who he assumed was now awake- let out muffled cries of retort. He was aware of how much he was crying. He also knew that his second player was very amused when he cried.
But he couldn't stop.
His second player had that scary grin on his face. His maroon eyes where shining in a sick amusement. He could feel his stomach twist as Luciano looked him over. The look on Luciano's face was sickening and almost greedy. He hated that look.
Suddenly he found himself being dragged from the room, his feet dragging against the floor. He could see Ludwig fight to his knees, only to have Matthew's second player push him down again with a rough shove. He pulled away as well as he could, trying to go back inside the safety of that dusty, dark room, but with no avail.
