Of Loneliness and Suicide
A Russia Pairing Spinoff
February 19, 2013
Introduction
Plip...Plip... Plip...The droplets of blood slipped through his slim fingers to splash into the crimson mass below, ringlets flowing out from the impact which grew centrifugally before smoothing out to the original flat surface...... Plip... Plip... Only this noise was present as Russia gazed at his cup of blood which slipped in a painstakingly slow way through his scarlet-stained fingers... Plip... Plip... Plip...
Suddenly the noise stopped at the last droplets plummeted to the larger pool of duplicates. The Russian male stayed still in his pitch dark room, face devoid of emotion at the view of his marred skin as the final plipreplayed its suicidal sound in his ears. The moment stretched out precariously hanging on to the last moment before it popped like a soap-bubble. At that exact moment Russia's eyes flushed a red color that was similar to the color of the substance in the bowl. He hurled the basin at the mocking mirror in front of him which teased Ivan by reflecting the Russian's despicable self. The mirror shattered into gore-splattered shards. Some dropped to the floor while others flew out to impale themselves on the man's skin. Ivan took no notice of the shards as glared with his ferocious red-and-purple irises at the empty wooden frame. With a sudden rapid swipe, Russia tore the frame in two letting his fury-ridden shriek join the frame's pain-ridden one as its splinters joined the bloody plunder of the Russian's skin. Still the man felt no pain as he snapped the frame repeatedly in his massacred hands screaming out his painful rage, until there only remained a mountain of wood chips on the floor. It was a miracle that Russia's hands still functioned seeing how many shards and splinters were stuck in them as the man practically ripped apart the remnants of the boudoir in search for the matches. Eventually the box's outline presented itself in Ivan's trembling goreish hands. The appendages no longer looked anything like appendages, only a crimson dyed piece of meat was left where they once were before. Ivan fumbled to slide the compartment open with his almost nonexistent fingers. Yet when he achieved this challenge, he groaned as he realized as he had yet to select a match, and to try to light the damn thing. Finally with an abrupt soft kshhhh the match flared to life with a brilliant white flash of orange and pink flame. Mesmerized by the sudden burst of light, Ivan stared into the slow burning flare as it greedily gobbled up the phosphorus tip and started on the wooden part. The flame is like me, the Russian realized as he stared into the flame's thin dark depth, it will do anything and everything to hide its hideous true self. The orange light blurred in his eyes as tears began to coagulate on his eyelids, it will even consume its "friends" to help hide its true cruel self until they flee from its wrath. The past seventy years in Ivan's mind couldn't be suppressed anymore and they burst out raging down his face leaving it sleek with its salty taste. But now... now everyone has left me...
The time had finally come when the "Iron Curtain" —as England had so wittingly analogized—had crumbled into nothing under the Russian's corrupt "communism". Everyone was desperate to escape from the Russian's deluded wish of unity clambering over the crumbled pieces of brick and cement once they saw their forever separated brothers, friends, and even lovers. Prussia was the first to flee as he leapt into Ludwig's embracing arms with a joyous cry. Hungary was next to clamber over, swept up into Austria's passionate hug as his hungry lips pressed into hers. Even his sisters Ukraine and Belarus bade their brother goodbye without a second glance. Saltness blossomed on Ivan's lips as his tears still gushed down his cheeks in a wild unstoppable cataract. Everyone had left Ivan so easily, it was as though his little "family" never even existed. The Russian was terrifying to think of the joy he derived from his sadistic methods, especially when they kept the countries together with him for a little longer, just a little longer! Russia clearly saw now that his deluded methods had only caused those countries to hate Russia even more for keeping them away from their relations. He wanted to scream for everyone to come back so he could tell them how sorry he was for forcing them to disassociate with all their relations in NATO, for building the "Iron Wall" to stop any one of them to even see the members of NATO, and suppressing their rebellions in the most violent ways. He would do anything, anything, now just to have a nation beside him, for them to just understand how damn lonely it was to be him.
The Russian sank to the floor, his knees finally giving out from under him as dry sobs escaped his clenched teeth every time he saw someone escaping from his tangled web of lies. Estonia with a sadistic grimace, Lithuania with that tiny terrified look on his face, and even China, who he thought was his closest confidante, turned his back on him when he needed him the most. One by one they left him in his mind leaving the Soviet feeling completely powerless, defeated, and so damn lonely...
No. Death would be better than to feel these suffocating painful emotions, the emotions which felt like they were carving out Russia's aching heart from the inside out. Death would erase all of them, numb the depression which Ivan felt clawing its way through his broken heart. Who would care if the Soviet disappeared from the world? All of the countries left him, glad to be rid of his true egotistical ways. His boss was the first to break the wall, telling Ivan "they would've left you anyways" before leaving himself. Russia's body shook with terror and with pain as he realized just how many countries wouldn't notice his death or even benefit from it, another truth of just how much his actions just pushed them away. Why do you need to suffer, a voice inside the soviet's mind whispered, they already hate you so much. There are a thousand reasons why death could benefit them as well as you...
Ivan rose woozily, his tears long gone leaving carved out trails on his cheek leaving his face gaunt and emotionless. Quick painless numbing death, the voice lamented before vanishing leaving Ivan even more lonesome. There was only one way to get this done. He shuffled to the bookcase in the corner, taking a small unnoticed box which was sitting on top of it. Oh how many times were his hands drawn to the small key hanging on a chain underneath his scarf, itching to unlock this unseen lacquer box. Smiling wanly, Russia thought how ironic this would finally come true, only not in the way he'd imagine it happening. With a soft click the traditional box flipped open revealing Russia's secret stashed pistol. Another bout of irony hit the Russian causing his lips to roll upwards in a sarcastic smile as the words from his new boss to his guards echoed in his mind, "Don't leave Ivan alone. He hasn't recovered from the shock of seeing all the other countries leaving him. Always keep him in sight." How ironic it was that Yeltsin, his new boss, who had snapped at Ivan a couple of hours ago to "do whatever you like. Just leave me alone for a little while." What the official completely forgot in his irate feelings was that death also fell into the category of "do whatever you like." But now wasn't the time to be thinking of what the deceitful man had said, Ivan chastised as he brought the pistol to his temple. The chilling solemnity of the sleek iron of the barrel seeped into Ivan's skin letting him know of the dire situation he was in. One small flick of his index finger and all of this pain, this heartbreak, would be over with one deciding bang. Inhaling, Ivan shut his eyes as his lips moved in prayer for the last time. He prayed for his "friends" for the countries he kept with him forcefully, "I'm sorry everyone. I'm so sorry."Russia cocked the pistol, ready to make his final act, but the little tremors in his hand wouldn't go away. Frustrated, Ivan breathed a few more times to steady his hand, his finger tightening on the trigger...
A loud crash interrupted his final scene, and Ivan's eyes flew open. He almost dropped his pistol from the intense thumps that followed. Thankfully the Soviet managed to keep a firm grip on it remembering the official's snappish command. Once again he closed his eyes, feeling the smooth trigger as his finger brought it closer to his oblivion... A deafening splintering noise brought Ivan once more from his meditational to stare at the nonexistent doorway, or mainly who stood in it...
Mwahahahaha! And so the cliffhanger torment begins and only YOU can stop it!
But before I can tell you the solution, a generous shout out to my friends for editing my paper and helping me realize all of my mistakes in it... This paper wouldn't flow the way it did before after you finished with it! Really guys you're the best! Love you loads!
Now on to business! Please either go to my deviantart account which you will find below or comment in the review section about which character you'd like for me to feature in this pairing spinoff. I'll try my best to pair them up with the situation at hand...
I've already started a China chapter and a friend has already requested for America and I'll be doing both all in due time (just if you don't know me I usually take a reeeeaaallly long time to update because of school and laziness but this time I'll try my damnest to update more...).
Oh yeah and I would really appreciate if you'd go to my dA account and favorite it there as well as comment for your character if you have an account there that is. Its art/Of-Loneliness-and-Suicide-Introduction-Russia- 359695004 and you'll find my username there as well..
I'm still surprised at how big this fanfic has gotten! I mean it started out three or so months ago as an depressed inspiration to Diablo by Simon Curtis and slowly grew over time to be this polished piece of work! I mean I'm still astonished at how big its gotten!
Man, I gotta write more of these "songfics", they're really interesting and fun to write~!
So, comment your character choice!
If you don't want to contribute a character, comment on your feels but without unreasonable flame...
If don't want to comment, comment anyways!
Constructive criticism and critiques are greatly appreciated so that my inner Russia editor can thrive!
Hetalia and Russia sadly belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and not me for if it did, who knows what I would've done to Russia already?
...RANDOMLY TACKLE GLOMPS YOU!