Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Note: This is a sequel to another story of mine. If you want to read the other one before this, go to An English Bow and An America Gun. That is the prequel to this sequel. If you don't want to read the other one, go ahead and read this. You won't get who the one character is though, if you don't read the first one, so I suggest you read the prequel, An English Bow and an American Gun.
Two figures lunged towards each other, wood meeting metal. Recoiling back, they each grin. The one to the left takes up his wooden weapon, loading an arrow, steadying it for launch. The other shadow sprints across the area separating them. As the archer releases the arrow, it zips past the runner. A curse was mumbled under his breath as he braced himself for the oncoming man.
The sprinter smirked, pausing in front of the archer, spinning around to the backside, hitting the back of the other's head. "You've gotten worse at your aim." His chortle echoed off the darkness.
The surrounding area, being nothing but black, has a massive amount of space. Space that goes on for eternity. This place is a realm between consciousness and worlds. It holds nothing yet everything.
The pipe held in the one man's hand swiped up in the air and rested against the man's shoulder. "Artemis? The softness of your master has weakened you, da?"
The archer rubbed his head, peering over his shoulder. "You know bloody well as I do that I am not soft!" He stood up, swinging his bow at the Russians face. "You, Winter, are just as weak as I am."
"I fear you are mistaken, young one." A nasty growl erupted from Winter. "I am no weaker than you are, you pest."
A chuckle filled Artemis' lungs. "You are only weak because you have no control of a body where I do."
"You do?" Winter asked with an amused tone. He swung his pipe down toward his other hand. "I thought you dwell within the mind of your master. So technically you have no control."
"But he will let me have control!" The archer yelled, charging to the Russian.
Winter merely stepped out of the way, hitting the curse on the back of his neck. "When will that be?" He asked. "He has a life of his own now. A lover, his kingdom, his brothers, friends." His eyes narrowed on the other curse as he slowly got up. "You have none of those things worth living for in your life."
Artemis smiled. "For you are wrong there, Winter." He placed his hand on his knee as he stood. He chuckled, turning around to face the other curse. "I have something to live for." He stated. "I live to protect my master. I will protect him until I am obliterated into oblivion."
Winter grinned. "You are a fool." He chortled. "A damn fool you are!" He walked over to the other, circling Artemis as if he was prey. "You say that he is important to you, but are you important to him?" The archer snapped his head towards the Russian's voice. "He has no use for you anymore."
"Not true." He spoke. "Every time he picks up an bow, I'll be there to help him."
"He doesn't need to use a bow." Winter said, pacing himself around in the circle. "He is the king. Not all kings fight in battle and those that do have swords, not bows." Artemis stared at the floor as he thought. Winter chuckled darkly. "Poor you." He stood behind the red-eyed blond, and whispered in his ear. "You can't help him with a sword, now, can you?"
Artemis curled his fingers into fists. Clenching his teeth, he tried to rid the thoughts of negativity. "I..." He tried to come back with an argument, but to no avail. "I..." He held in his sigh. "I can't..."
"Now you are seeing fact, da?" The Russian picked up on his pacing again. "The lonely Archer's Curse. Unused and needed no longer." His smirk sprawled across his face. "What a fitting story for a pitiful, useless curse."
"You shut the bleeding fuck up!" Artemis tried to move his hands to his ears, but they were heavy as lead; they couldn't move.
Winter clucked his tongue. "I struck a nerve.~" He sang. The archer just stood there. "Poor little, lonely, heart broken," he went behind the other again, and leaned to Artemis' ear, "abused," Artemis' eyes widened as he held his nightmares, "Artemis."
Silence licked the room. The motion of Winter's boots tapped against the black floor, the only rhythm heard in the area. Artemis' fists loosened, clenched every few minutes. His mind wandered toward his memories; the gentle ones, the harmful ones. His body shivered from certain memories of abuse. Mental yet physical abuse.
I shouldn't care anymore, he thought, I have Arthur now, and everything has changed. I love this life I'm living now. I mean, I'm in the body of a royal. His eyes went wider. "I'm in the body of a royal... The royal."
"Someone's getting it." Winter hummed. "Do you know my plans?" The archer's head rose so he stared in front of him. Winter stood behind him still. "Would you like to know?" Artemis focused on the never ending darkness of black as Winter walked up to him a third time. "I plan to use you. You will come to harm your own master."
Note: Though this is really short, I decided to put this up here. I know I have other stories to work on, but this one came to me and I would like to get feed back of what every one thinks of this prologue.
This is the prologue to the sequel of An English Bow and an American Gun. I had been thinking of doing this for a while, and here it is. I have few ideas of where I want to take this, but doubts still fill me.
The Characters in this chapter, if you do not know, are Artemis, the Archer's Curse that haunts Arthur, and Winter, the Braginski Curse that harmed Ivan. You would know of Artemis if you read the prequel to this story, and Winter was only mentioned at the very ending of the first story. The part where Artemis and Winter will fight for possibly an eternity if they do not win their battle.
The story is not beta-ed. If there are mistakes, I will try and fix them as I find them.
Ciao: I hope you all enjoyed the new story! I never thought I would create another sequel to a story, but here it is! Thanks for reading, loves! R&R.