When I finally awoke, I was expecting to be surrounded by clouds and white, with two tall gates and a holy man waiting to judge me. But instead, I found that it was still reality. I was surrounded by walls of stone and my mouth, hands, and feet were tied. I could feel something else constricting my leg; I hoped to think it was a bandage for the blood. My brain was fuzzed from the explosions as I coughed, making it difficult to process what was happening. Then I remembered the fires, my region, my home. I remembered the man and how he slightly resembled...
Prussia! I started to struggle violently, remembering again that Prussia was still out there, fighting the war! I had to go and help him! I kept squirming, trying to yell for help through the gag between coughs. Finally, I saw a shadow approach, speaking in a strange accent to someone out of my vision.
"Hey, aru! The captive it awake, aru!" the stranger said, glancing at me. I glared at them, inspecting them. The one who spoke had long, black hair in a ponytail, a green uniform, and long boots. I wanted to think it was a girl, but I settled that it was a man from his masculine accent. I could hear footsteps approaching as I struggled. From the corner of the room, she could finally see four figures come out of the shadows. One of them was the bushy-brow man that was there when the bombs exploded. I sent daggers at his smug face as another blonde with blue eyes and glasses started to speak.
"Hahahahaha! It seems you're not so useless after all, Britain!" The man with glasses yelled, laughing. Britain? So this was the England that Prussia told me about...but wait...he's supposed to be part of the Allies...so that means..! I started to struggle even more. I was in enemy territory this whole time! This made the situation even more drastic! As I squirmed, the one with glasses jumped back, as though I could bite him through the gag, which was likely in the panic and rage I was in.
"It was too easy, bringing this one down," the one called Britain scoffed, looking at me as though I was a pup he taught a lesson to. "No offense or defense, no sirens to warn her people." England tisked in disgust, as though it was my fault that I was blasted. I kept struggling as another blonde, wavy-haired man in a bright blue uniform, complete with cape, stared at me.
"Well, what are we going to do weeth 'er, America?" He asked, looking at the one with glasses. I stopped struggling, trying to catch my breath through the gag. I could sense the heavy French accent in the man's words. He looked at me with distaste, much like England. "I don't want 'er. She seems like trouble."
The one called America shook his head, grinning. "Haha, I'm not taking her either! I need my manly bachelor pad, dude!" England rolled his eyes, allowing the man with long black hair to give his input.
"No way am I taking her in, aru!" the man yelled outright. Now that I hear him more clearly, I could see that his dialect was dripping heavily with a mix of accents, all giving me the sense he was China. "I've had my experience with brats before; I'm too old to handle anymore." England glanced to his side, sighing.
"What's the point in capturing a region if no one will take it...?" Britain said to himself. I tried to breathe through the gag, but my breath started to go hollow, my vision blurring. My head was cold and wet; no doubt I hit it while struggling. At last, I could see the last person emerge from the shadows. A tall man with tan hair, a large overcoat, and a long scarf. He stared at me with strange, violet eyes, grinning at me. Before I slipped back into unconsciousness, I could hear him ask something that resounded in my dreams.
"I can take her, da?"
The next time I woke, everything was dark. I could barely make out three solid concrete walls and a door made of bars. My head and legs were wet; it must have been blood. I tried to move slightly, to find that the ties on her hands and feet were cut. I slowly tried to move, my muscles aching as I sat against the cold walls. I coughed a couple of times, spilling a bit of blood. As I moved, I could barely see a dark shadow move in front of the cell. Even though my whole body was in pain, I quickly reached for the pistol I always carried, to find only an empty holster.
I started to panic, searching the stone floor. Where was my gun? I'm enemy territory; I had to think and get out fast! Big brother always told me all of the bad things about the Allies, as well as the radios. While I may be small, I'm just as smart, if not smarter, than my older brother, and I knew that I have to find my weapon. I heard something clatter where the door was, so I started to crawl over, only to meet the violet eyes of the man with the coat and scarf.
Russia.
It took me awhile to figure the strange man's identity at first, but then I thought of Prussia's descriptions of this monster called Russia. He said that he was vicious and cruel, sadistic in his ways. I could in fact sense his malice and hatred at the moment, but when I looked upon his shadowed face, he seemed innocent, almost like a child. He grinned down at my, spinning my pistol with his fingers, tauntingly.
"Haha," Russia laughed, "Is this what you were looking for?" I glared at him, coughing as I stood. I noticed that I was only half his height, so I reluctantly looked up to meet his grinning eyes. I gripped the bars, glaring daggers.
"Where am I...?" I whispered, my throat raw and voice hoarse. The Russian laughed, putting a hand to his ear, implying that he didn't hear me. I raised my voice, saying "Where...am I?" Russia laughed again, holding my pistol.
"I see that you are lively despite what had happened." He said, smiling. He slowly paced in front of the bars, looking at me. "Do you remember anything?" He asked, innocently. I glared at him, wondering where he was getting at. I nodded hesitantly, clutching the rusty bars as he grinned down at me. He hung my pistol by the trigger, dangling it dangerously in front of me, just out of my reach.
"I can sense that you don't like me." He said, amused as I stared angrily at him. "Probably from all the stories that stupid Prussian told you, da?" My eyes flared with rage. He dare speak of Big Brother Prussia like that? I wanted to reach out and strangle him with his scarf, but I resisted the urge. He kept pacing. "You are in my mansion, the Soviet Union. I took you in when no one else wanted to, so you should be grateful." I scowled at him, remembering a question that I had.
"Tell me what you scum's did with Big Brother Prussia." I demanded, rage dripping in my words like venom. Russia's eyes widened for a moment, surprised and amused.
"Haha, you CAN talk when you want to!" Russia laughed. "I see that you inherited your sharp tongue from your 'big brother'." He finally stopped pacing, staring down at me. "We 'scum's' only bruised your brother a bit. He's not here, if that's what you're worried about." He grinned. "He wouldn't come to the Allies. He's too scared and hurt to dare." Anger burned inside me as he spoke.
"He will come..." I hissed, my voice still slightly hoarse. "He won't back down. He'll come once he knows I'm gone." Russia blinked, staring at me. I think he was confused on where my confidence came from. If not, I knew I was confused. How was I so sure Prussia would come? He wasn't the most responsible of brothers, but she knew that he would come! He will...
As I thought about it, I dropped to my knees, clutching the rusty bars, whispering "He will come...he will come..." I couldn't see this Russian's face, but I could tell that he stared at me with pity. I could see the shadow move, probably from him turning. His footsteps resounded in the prison, fading slowly.
