Chapter One: You Watch Me Bleed
Red.
The color of a rose.
Rose red.
The color of a drop of blood.
Rose Red.
The color of his eyes.
White.
The color of the snow.
Snow white.
The absence of all colors.
Snow white.
The color of his hair.
His touch is as warm as blood.
But his heart was as cold as ice.
He is as beautiful as a rose.
But he is distant as the stars.
Snowflakes gently fluttered downward in large clumps, completely covering the earthen ground. The bare branches of the trees rattled like cat whiskers in the piercing ice wind. The cold air was felt like razor blades, seeming to cut through anything.
The snow-covered forest was completely quiet. Not a sound, other than the occasional twitching of branches together by the wind.
Then, without warning, there was a sound of a gunshot. It echoed around the snowy forest, startling a flock of small birds to take to the skies.
Bang! There was the sound again. But this time, it was followed by several yells from men. The sound kept getting closer and closer, until it slowly stopped again.
From behind some of the berry-baring bushes, came a young man. He stumbled through the plants, trying to stay on his feet, but it was no use. His blood was soaked through his blue uniform, staining it dark. His hair was white and messy, coated in mud and snow, making it stick up every which way as though it looked like he had just woken up. Those blazing red eyes of his were searching around the area, trying to find out where he was.
"Damn..." He swore under his breath, almost falling forward. His hand clutched his side as a terrible pain shot up to his chest. "The awesome Gilbert shouldn't be like this..."
Gilbert Beilschmidt, older brother of Ludwig from Germany, was on the run. Several of his rivals had made a surprise attack on him and his brother, leaving them almost defenseless. Now, seeing that Gilbert had no chance, he was forced to retreat with Ludwig, but his younger brother was nowhere in sight.
Gilbert seemed to be making some ground, since his rivals didn't seem to be following him. But what about Ludwig? Surely he'd still be back there. Gilbert had to go back, but he couldn't bring himself to move. It was then that he realized how far he had gotten by the change in temperature.
The white-haired man groaned as he glanced down at all the blood he was loosing. It was oozing everywhere, and that started to make him feel a bit light-headed. There had to be someone or something out here that could help him.
Forcing his legs to move, he kept pushing on through the trees and bushes, trying to find something around here. There had to be someone here that could help him. But, he had no idea where is was. Therefore, he didn't know if he was in an enemy's territory, getting targeted already to be taken down. At that thought, he tried to keep his guard up, tensing his shoulders as he let out some huffy breaths.
But the effort was no use. Even if there was someone out there, friend or foe, they would know that he was weak. Even Gilbert himself knew he was weak now, and he hated that fact.
It wasn't until when he broke out from some bushes and looked around. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. The forest he was in had thinned out into a complete landscape of white snow. Nothing in sight but more and more snow.
Gilbert groaned, stumbling forward until his legs gave out. Snow flew up into his face, stinging it with its icy glare. As much as the cold snow bothered him, Gilbert could not bring himself to move onto his back. Everything hurt.
He let out a sigh, seeing some of the snowflakes on the ground fly up in a puff of white. This was it. This was where he was going to die. Loss of blood and freezing to death. What a way to do.
At that thought, for some reason, a small chuckle came out of his mouth, making more white puffs of snow fly up again.
The albino still lay in the snow, which was more red than white. His breathing was short and quick, making him panic and think that these were his final moments. Maybe he wasn't cut out to be the awesome country like he always told himself he was. Maybe things would be better if he was to just disappear, no longer live, no longer have a home.
No! He was Gilbert, dammit! He had to try something!
But there was no one around, was there? Besides, if there was, who would want to help him anyways...
Then, that was when he heard something. It was distant, but it slowly grew in sound. Something was crunching through the snow, towards him, he knew that for a fact.
What was it?
The hair on the back of Gilbert's neck stood up as he realized that it was something large coming his way. He prepared the best he could for the worst that was yet to come now. This was no friend of his. This was something else... Or someone else.
Raising his head slightly, Gilbert could only make out the dark outline of a rather tall person, heading his way still. Scrunching his eyes, hopefully trying to see better, he tried his best to see who it was. But it was no use. His vision became blurry with the amount of blood he was loosing.
As the sound of crunching snow came closer, the albino squeezed his eyes closed. Here it comes, the final blow.
Seconds ticked by, and that turned to minutes. There was nothing.
Gilbert opened one of his eyes slightly. It was dark now. The figure that stood towering above him was blocking out some of the light of the sun, that was more hidden by grey clouds now. Wincing, he moved his head ever so slightly, trying to see if he could get more of a clearer view of whom stood in front of him.
Suddenly, the figure started making noise. The person was laughing. At what? At him? But as soon as the laughter started, it stopped suddenly.
Looming into view, the figure crouched down and Gilbert could see the figure's face somewhat more clearly, but he still couldn't name the face.
"Privet... Gilbert..." The voice from the figure issued out like steam from a tea kettle.
The soft voice rung in Gilbert's ears. That voice was calling someone's name. His name. But why did it sound so familiar? Who was that? Was he in danger? Could he defend himself?
It was really not the best time to answer these questions himself. Then again, he wasn't in the best shape either.
All he could really do was take in sharp gasps of the cold air around him. He was chilled to the bone now, and he hated it. He hated the feeling of being freezing, and rather wanted to be someplace warm instead now, but there was barely any strength left in him to try and make warmth. It was too late for all that now.
Trying to lift his head again, Gilbert's vision grew in and out of focus. He could see that the person had a scarf wrapped almost around his face. A pair of bright purple eyes seemed to stare down at him and into his very soul.
Dropping his head again in defeat, he soon made the realization. He now knew where he was and who was next to him.
"Ivan..." He breathed out heavily.
Gilbert could see Ivan smile ever so slightly as he said his name.
"Do you need my help? Or should I just leave you here?" He asked, that smile was not moving off his face yet.
There was a ruffling of clothes as Ivan's hand reached out towards Gilbert's head, raising it up gently.
Feeling his head being lifted, Gilbert's eyes opened just enough to see those big purple ones again. How he wished he could just stab them out right now. But he was too weak, and Ivan knew it, which he hated most of all. He hated being weak, he hated how other people could see it at times, especially now since Ivan could see it.
"It's surprising that you're here... in my land," The taller man began. His eyes traveled down to Gilbert's chest. "... Soaked in your and other people's blood..." His tone was dark.
The albino was about to make some nasty retort to him, but nothing came out. All that issued from his mouth was a small splatter of blood, which made him gasp aloud.
"I don't... need you..." He tried panting out through gritted teeth. As he said that, he braced himself, knowing that a blow from the taller man was sure to come. As he did that, he felt one small single tear roll down his cheek as though he knew there wasn't a way for him to be saved.
Only a miracle could do something like that for him now.
Though, for nothing more than a second, Gilbert saw that Ivan's eyes had softened for a moment when he saw the blood from his mouth and that tear. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Gilbert thought he heard Ivan's breath suddenly stop for a moment. There was no way that that was possible.
"The figure of you suffering makes me happy..." He smiled a bit again, but that then dropped into a frown. "However, how can I be happy when the one causing you pain is not me?"
"Eh?" Gilbert raised an eyebrow as though he had hear him wrong. But Ivan didn't answer. Instead, he just took out his blood-stained pipe from behind him, making Gilbert's eyes widen slightly.
"Of course... Simply dying won't repay you for all the things you have cost me." He nodded, looking off into the distance slightly, as though lost in thought. "No," he shook his head. "No, you must suffer much more." Then he turned his attention back to Gilbert again, still holding onto the albino by the hair.
Despite feeling as though he would black out any second, Gilbert glared at the other, watching Ivan feel almost triumphant over him. Slowly, as Ivan contemplated more over Gilbert's condition and about what happened towards the past, the albino could feel his eyes widen again.
Suffer more? What could possibly be worst than dying by Ivan's hand? Once again, his question remained unanswered.
There was something unnerving in Ivan's tone as he spoke again, making Gilbert start shivering but not from the cold. "I won't let you die... for now, da?"
Thanks for reading the first chapter I got so far! Expect more coming soon. Sorry if there's no fluff or smut or whatever yet, it's going to be a slow build up, but I'll try my best to make something up between them. Or whatever. I dunno. But thanks! Love, xxUSxUKxx
