Chapter 9: Did anyone order a well done president?
England snapped his fingers, and Regina's world exploded. The blue fire traveled over her face, muffling any screams of agony that tore themselves from her throat. The fire did not produce smoke, nor did it burn her flesh, but the pain was the same, if not greater. Tongues of flame reached up to lick at her eyes, tears of pain hissing as they evaporated, curling up in wisps of purple steam. Regina thrashed around in her bindings, trying to put out the fire, but each movement only seemed to intensify it. As suddenly as it started, the fire was extinguished with a clap of the englishman's hands, the mind numbing pain slowly fading. Regina went limp, coughing and crying with relief.
"Now dear, next time you will listen next time I tell you to remain quiet. Finish the insult that you started, and the next fire will leave marks." The angered brit warned.
"Oh man Artie thanks for not using the ones that burn." America shuddered, looking at Regina's face with disgust. "Those seriously freak me out."
"Scared of a little fire?" Regina taunted. England raised his hand as if to snap again, but America stopped him.
"As a matter of fact, yes. I've had some pretty bad experiences with fire and I in no way want to repeat those."
"Bad experiences? We've all burned ourselves at one point in our lives but i don't think that qualifies as a reason to be scared of a little fire."
This guy seems pretty weak. I mean who's scared of a little flame? What a pansy. I'm certainly not. Well except for England's fire. But give me a break that shit is blue.
"Well I have to take what you said with a grain of salt, because you aren't thinking on a personification scale. In your mind, a small cut is probably a papercut. In ours it's getting stabbed but no biggie it'll heal in a couple days. A burn for humans is the sting of a candle. Try having your capital burnt to the ground. That's a bad experience with fire. The pain is horrid, a million times worse than what you just experienced. Anyone sane would not go within a mile of a flame after having their capital burned."
"Bloody hell Alfred I said I was sorry for burning Washington to the ground in 1814."
"YOU BURNED THE GODDAMN CAPITOL BUILDING AND THE WHITE HOUSE. THE FUCKING WHITE HOUSE ARTIE."
"I WAS PISSED AND MATTHEW AND I BOTH APOLOGIZED YOU GIT."
"Oh it's alright babe I forgave you about a century ago and besides, it's funny how angry you get."
"Why the hell does your capital burning matter? It's just a city." Regina questioned, curious how a couple buildings burning could cause any pain.
"Our capital is our heart, silly girl. When it is destroyed we feel like it's being torn out. We are after all, the personifications of our land and people. Like my glasses for example, are Texas."
"What's that cowlick then?" Regina questioned, thankful that she found a topic that would delay her death.
"Nantucket island."
"What about the other states? What does oh I don't know, Florida represent?"
America grinned and yelled "THE SAME AS BIG BEN AND THE EIFFEL TOWER BUT WAAAAAAAY BIGGER!"
England's face went scarlet, and Regina swore she could hear a very faint "Hon hon hon" noise coming from upstairs.
"Wait... what?" She asked, slowly trying to figure out what he meant. England facepalmed, and America smirked, pointing at his crotch. Regina's face heated up as she realized, her face glowing a red rival to England's. "I did not need to know that." she mumbled.
"Hey you were the one that asked."
"Enough of all that we have more important matters to discuss." England said, his face returning to normal color. "What I would like to know is why the hell her arm was untied in the first place."
"Well I was going to play my favorite game with her, but then someone just had to scream and the secret service busted in and it just totally slipped my mind."
"What game is that?" Regina asked, thinking about what games involved her being tied to chairs.
"The one and only knife game baby! Last finger attached is mine to keep!" America sang, prancing over to the wall where all the knives were kept and picking out an absurdly large one.
"Now now Alfred I think it's a bit past the point where the knife game would be fun." England chided, putting his hand on the other nation's wrist, lowering the knife. America nodded and put the knife down, picking up a thin rapier. England said a few words in a strange language that Regina did not understand, and suddenly she was on the floor, hands tied behind her back.
America made his way over to her slowly, twirling the rapier in his hands lazily and watching her with half lidded eyes. She struggled to rise to her feet but a force pushed her back down onto her knees, pressing her shoulders back. She glared at the figure towering above her. Regina opened her mouth to say something, but was shushed when the sword darted out and the tip rested on her lower lip, the feel of the cool metal shutting her up.
"I would advise you not to say anything, unless you want me to shove this through your head." America spoke slowly, stretching out each word. He traced the outline of Regina's lips with the sword, the tip not making any marks. The sharp point wandered down the side of her neck and over her collarbone, coming to a rest over her heart. He added the slightest bit of pressure, and the rapier pinched her skin, a second away from breaking it.
"No… no… please don't kill me. I'll do anything. Please. " Regina begged, whimpering in fear. America's eyes flashed, and the razor sharp tip darted across her abdomen, tearing a slash in the deep blue fabric of Regina's dress and drawing a thin line of red that slowly opened wider, all accomplished with the flick of a wrist. The sword fell to the ground with a clang, the red stained tip bobbing up and down, a single drop of blood falling from the tip. America kneeled down and roughly grabbed Regina's face, forcing her to look up at him.
"Do. Not. Beg. Ever." he snarled, looking at her with fury and disgust in his sparkling eyes. "If you are going to die, die with dignity and suffer in silence." He released her face, shoving her away and standing up. He picked up the rapier from where it had fallen, resting it against Regina's stomach. The blade skated around, opening gashes. "That was for throwing me out of a car, that one over there is for daring to use my middle name, another for daring to say that my relationship with my beloved is wrong." the last left a rather deep cut, and Regina bit her lip to keep from crying out.
"Well it is." Regina choked out, still defiant. "It's disgusting and that stupid law never should have been passed. People like you should get the death penalty for being in a same-sex relationship."
A look of shock passed over America's face, and Regina could hear a gasp from behind her. "Well first of all," America spat, the shock replaced with cold anger, "someone's gonna lose a limb for that and spoiler alert, that someone is you. Second, fuck you we got married as soon as that 'stupid law' was passed. Lastly, it's 2017 you would think that people like YOU would be extinct by now. Newsflash, leave your views back in the sixteenth century where they belong."
Regina gulped, thinking that maybe she went a little too far. America picked her up by the ropes tying her hands together and plopped her on a chair, stepping on her feet so she wouldn't try to escape. More ropes appeared out of the air behind the chair and quickly tied her to it, leaving one arm untied like before. A cold hand none to gently picked up her own and slammed it onto a table, strapping her wrist onto the wood surface. The sound of a knife being sharpened reaches Regina's ears, the scrape of metal against stone sending shivers down her spine. America comes into view, holding a large knife in his fist, and for the first time Regina notices the glint of a wedding band in the light.
"No… NO!" Regina screamed as America raised the knife. A ball of energy stuffed itself in her mouth, muffling her pleas.
"You really should have thought of the consequences before you laid a hand on Artie." America informed Regina, and brought the knife down with a flash.
Regina screamed as her hand detached from her arm, biting down hard on the energy in her mouth. As soon as she was done screaming, a silver substance began to form around her stump of a hand, covering the exposed wound and stopping the bleeding. Regina looked around, tears streaming down her face and her body shaking. She saw England examining her hand, now encased in the same silver substance that had coated the stump. Her severed hand floated over to her and slapped her, hard.
"How does that feel, poppet?" England asked, barely holding back laughter.
"That's part of the price you pay for offending us." America chimed. The knife he was holding was stained red and he had small stains of crimson all over his abs, droplets of the vivid liquid dripping like tears to the floor. "Now time to pay in full." He walked over to a table and pulled out a small box, made of heavy silver and diamonds. In the box, on a bed of crushed velvet, lay a small revolver, made out of tarnished silver with engravings on it. Upon closer inspection the engravings read "Alfred Foster Jones sends his love" in fancy script. He picked up a small case of bullets with small hearts on them and loaded the chambers. America cocked the hammer with a final sounding click, and strode over to the chair. Regina struggled against her bonds, jerking her head from side to side, but was stopped by the barrel of the gun being pressed to her head, the cold metal making an impression in her forehead. She stilled and looked up in shock.
Oh my god he's serious. I'm actually going to die.
Tears started streaming down her face as she was confronted by reality. All this time there was this little part of her that prayed he was joking, that said she could speak freely. America leaned in and Regina braced herself for mocking, but when she met the cobalt orbs, they were blank, the slightest hint of longing flickering in their depths.
"Do not fear death." he whispered, and pulled the trigger.
