"Are you sure you don't want to play outside, Sealand? It's a beautiful day!"
"No," I said simply. I had just started to get comfortable on Finland's couch. It was so cold here. I had the blanket cocooned around me while I stared mindlessly at the tv. Why in the world would I want to go outside where it's colder? Especially when the Power Rangers was on.
"Okay, well if you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen." Finland shuffled away.
I don't know why, but I was still rather angry. England had just ditched me here. Adrenaline was still flowing in my veins. I enjoyed killing that little bird more than I should have. And I didn't even mind. I found that I liked this edge.
I vaguely disregarded the opening and closing of a door. The Power Rangers were joining together to make their final form.
"T's good'show," a deep voice said directly behind me.
I flinched and whipped my head around. Sweden was leaning over the couch. He had just come from outside, so he still had on his coat and gloves. Bits of snowflakes that had landed on his clothes were beginning to melt.
"Oh, there you are Sweden! I'm in the kitchen!" Finland called out. Sweden sauntered off to where he was called.
The walls here were thin. I suppose that was why it was so cold. It also meant I could hear their hushed voices.
"Sw-Sweden, stop it! Sealand...he's just in the next room!" Finland sad breathlessly.
"T's f'ne. U'r m'wife," Sweden said.
"I'm not your wife...please, Sweden? Sealand has had a hard enough day already."
Sweden grunted in submission. Finland gasped for air, and then I heard their footsteps bring themselves apart from each other.
"Oh, um, do you think you could go out and get more firewood? I think Sealand is cold," Finland asked.
Sweden grunted in affirmation. Wh't 're y'makin?"
"Just some fish. I figured Sealand could use a break from England's cooking," Finland chuckled a bit.
"It sm'lls g'd."
The back door opened and closed again as Sweden went back outside. My program ended and I turned off the tv. I could hear the sizzle and bubble of oil from the frying pan.
I was furious. Finland, who was almost a complete stranger to me had the common courtesy to make hot fish for me while my own brother had abandoned me with nothing but frozen fishsticks. My feet went to the cold floor, and I made my way to the kitchen. I still had the blanket wrapped around me.
Finland turned his head when he saw me. He blushed and used his hand to cover up the bruise like hickey on the curve of his neck.
"Oh, hello Sealand. Do you need anything? You're shaking. You must be cold. Sweden just went out to get more firewood. Dinner will be ready in just a bit."
I ignored his words of concern. My attention was drawn to the counter. The cutting board was littered with bits of fresh fish remains. I picked up the long knife.
"Sealand! Be careful with that! It's rather sharp..."
Finland came closer and reached to take the knife from me. What he didn't expect was for me to take a step closer and plunge the knife into his heart.
His face remained frozen in a state of surprise. He gave a few small gasps and slid to the floor. This was more like it. Humans had so much more blood. Finland's blood pooled out around my feet. I splashed in it a bit, the edge of the blanket also getting soaked in blood.
The door opened. Several logs of wood clunked to the floor.
"F'nl'nd!" Sweden exclaimed.
He kneeled beside his friend, the knees of his pants joining me in the blood bath. He stayed there speechless, knowing but unwilling to believe that Finland was gone. The Finland that he had only held moments before.
If it was possible, Sweden's face became scarier with bitter anger and grief. He could see that there was only one person who could have done this. Yet, he didn't want to believe that his innocent Finland had been taken away by a child.
Before he could get up ad apprehend me, I grabbed the pan that was on the stove. It was heavy, but I managed to swing it around and have it connect with Sweden's face.
He screamed. His glasses were knocked off his face, and he fell to the floor. He writhed as the cooking oil burned his face. He tried to wipe it off as best he could. He was left blinded with his burnt face becoming puckered and red. The hot soft pieces of fish were swimming in the blood.
I took the knife from Finland's chest. I practically gigged as more of his blood bubbled up. I drove the knife again and again into the bigger man's chest. Drops of blood sprinkled my face and clothes. Sweden stopped squirming and went completely still with the twist of my knife. It was such a wonderful and refreshing feeling. To be soaked in the blood of the people who cared for you when all you gave them was cold indifference.
AN: I don't even know how I managed to write this. My poor SuFin ;-; My imagination is sick...