I stood up as tall as I could. I was trembling madly, nervous as hell; he was looking at me. He was looking at me. I didn't dare say anything lest I said the wrong thing.

"Lithuania?"

I shivered as he said my name. He walked over to me, and I could practically taste in the air the sense of power he radiated, the power he held. I didn't trust myself to speak, but I had to, of course.

"Y-yes?"

His eyes looked down into mine. I could see a lot in those purple eyes of his. So much...

I'd lost track of what he'd been saying. He hadn't appeared to notice.

"...So I'll need you to look after the place till I get back. I know you won't let anything happen while I'm gone, and that I'll find the place exactly as I left it." His gentle voice made me tremble. "Because if I don't," he smiled down at me, "I'll throw you in the Kolkhoz." He paused for a minute for that to sink in, his unblinking smile sending shivers down my spine and making my heart beat faster and faster, until finally turning and walking away, his scarf streaming behind him. The door opened and I could hear the harsh wind outside for a moment before he closed it behind him. I fell to my knees and sobbed, a nervous wreck. That country terrifies me so.

"Hey, Poland..."

"Yes, Liet?" my former partner's voice chimes over the phone.

"Russia's out, and... I really need some company, will you come over? Estonia's locked himself in one of the rooms, blogging, and I'm not sure where Latvia is..." Russia's house is huge and cold, and my heart rate was still recovering.

"I'll be, like, right over! Like, get the chess board ready!"

"Go again?" Poland asked eagerly as I groaned and rubbed my temples. Playing with Poland was impossible. He cheated like a small child.

"Actually, Poland, I think I'm going to take a bath. I really need to relax."

"Like, what's wrong?"

"It's..." It's Russia. He beats me every day. "Just stress, I suppose. I guess everything's just getting to me."

While Lithuania was in the bath, Poland was getting, like, totally bored downstairs. He knew Liet always spent, like, ages in the bath from when they'd, like, lived together and stuff. Poland spied the phone from the corner of his eye, and had a totally awesome idea. Like, awesome to the max.

I was just starting to finally relax when voices and loud music snapped me to attention. But Russia's house is miles from... Oh god. Oh god, the noise was coming from downstairs, and oh god something just smashed, and oh god what would Russia do to me?!

I hurriedly got dressed and rushed downstairs, and almost threw up when I saw hat was going on. There was Russian trance music being pumped through the house so loudly I could feel it through the floor. There were countries everywhere, and more were arriving as I watched, stunned, horrified. Poland staggered up to me, drunk already, and oh god that bottle in his hand, oh god it was vodka, and oh god when I looked behind him the cupboard on the wall was open and half of Russia's vodka supply was already gone.

"Hey, Liet," slurred Poland, "your hair's, like, totally soaking wet," and then he lurched forward in what I think was an attempt to suck on my hair. He fell flat onto his face and didn't move. I stepped over him, disgusted.

Pushing past numerous countries I couldn't even name, including a very small boy who looked uncannily like England but in some sort of sailing costume, I eventually came across Estonia. He looked dazed and terrified, and slightly green as if he were sick. I knew exactly how he felt.

"What's going on?" He had to shout to be heard.

"It's that bastard Poland! We have to get them out of here!" I yelled back.

"But how do we – OH MY GOD, LATVIA!" Estonia was suddenly shouldering his way to the sofa, where a very drunk Prussia was attempting to undress a sobbing and hysterical Latvia. Latvia's trousers were already around his ankles, and while he tried in vain to stop him, Prussia was lifting his shirt with one hand and shoving the other hand into the front of his pants.

"My vital regions!" squealed Latvia in distress, just as Estonia and I arrived and started to pull Prussia off him.

I heard something smash in another room, and left Estonia to deal with Prussia. I found the speakers and unplugged them, and the house went silent. Something else smashed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I screamed, "This is Russia's house! Russia will be coming back soon, and I don't even know when! What do you think he'll do to you if he comes back and finds this?! Get out, get out! He'll kill you!" Estonia was trembling as he lifted the body of Latvia, who had fainted, onto the sofa. I opened the door and the drunken, ashamed and scared countries filed out of the house.

"You're, like, no fun at all." Poland accused me as he walked out the door, thrusting an almost-empty bottle of vodka into my hand. Then he shut the door behind him. Leaving us alone in the house. Leaving me and Estonia to clean up the mess by ourselves. The entire ground floor, before Russia got back, and I had no idea when that would be.

"AAAAAAARGH, THAT BASTAAAAAARD!!!" My frustrated scream echoed through the house.

Over the next hour, the two of us tidied, threw away, drained, fixed and cleaned everything on that ground floor. We worked ourselves to the bone, not anting to wake Latvia, who we reckoned had been through enough today. We felt just about to collapse when we heard the front door open. We rushed to greet Russia as he entered. He was smiling as he walked in, and while that didn't necessarily mean anything, I could tell he was in a good mood because he held one of Germany's water faucets in his hand.

"H-hello, R-Russia-s-s-san..." we said, shaking. His gaze fell upon the two of us, and then drifted to the sofa, where Latvia was still lying with a tear-streaked face and his trousers still around his ankles. I thought his eyes rested on Latvia a little too long.

"R-Russia-san... W-would you like me to p-put that somewhere for you?" I motioned towards the water faucet he was holding.

"Actually, I could do with a vodka," he replied.

"Aiyee! Uhh, are you sure you wouldn't like some water instead?! Come into the kitchen, we'll get you some water!" We took the giant by the hand and led him, shaking violently, into the kitchen.

When we reached the kitchen door we turned and saw his expression, and cringed. Then he stopped. He tensed. His smile was fixed in place.

"What is that smell...?" he murmured.

Suddenly I panicked. Russia was walking over to the sink. I ran to try and get there before him, to wash away the last traces of what we had been pouring down the drain... I reached the sink too late.

"V-vodka..."

We watched helplessly, tears in our eyes, as he drifted to the cupboard in the other room. As he opened it. As he found that, just like that of the fabled Mother Hubbard, his cupboard was bare.

He turned slowly towards us, smile fixed, pupils pin-pricks, and we knew it was useless trying to run...

***

The first thing he'd made me do was clean the blood off the faucet. After that he'd worked us non-stop. And now, several days later, this was the first chance I've had to clean my wounds. He has beaten us each to within an inch of our lives. Having gone an entire week without sleep, I feel I am about to fade out of existence. Russia is angrier at us than he's ever been before. He hadn't even tried to com onto me – not tried to touch me – not tried to rape me. Each wound has opened anew each day. I flinch as they meet water.

Author's note: Russian trance music is actually really good. A great example is Wriemia Agniej, aka Sound of My dream, by Nightcore.