I really need to stop writing the author's notes when I'm dead tired...XD
Anyway...I have very mixed feelings about this chapter. _ First, this is a couple days late, so I should apologize for that...so much for sticking to a schedule. XP But other than that...I dunno. I just didn't have the inspirational drive, so I'm not sure how this will be. ;_; Then again, I suppose ten chapters is a bit of a milestone. And this is a long one. Well, you tell me what you think. XD
In other news: once again, I owe the creation of this chapter partially to a song, and more specifically my friend's AMV with that song. That would be "Brain Damage" by Pink Floyd. I wonder if instead of telling you all these songs I use chapter by chapter, I should just post the link to the playlist I made for this story on YouTube in my profile...XD But then, I'm paranoid about spoilers. Aaaaaand I'm rambling again. 8D
MY REVIEWERS, SUBSCRIBERS, AND FAVORITERS ARE ALL BI-WINNING! *shot for Charlie Sheen reference* THEY ARE: NONAMESWEREAVAILABLE, Yoly, Super Sister, Deemo, cheezeruleszolp, and angelsxdemons.
He watched from the dark corners of the alley as the endless throngs of men and women streamed down the concrete sidewalk and thought about how much he hated crowded cities such as this one. They made him feel so incredibly cornered and trapped, as though the people surrounding him would unintentionally sweep him away in a human current, overwhelm him like a relentless swarm of insects, slowly smother him…
Not like they would know or care if a country called Lithuania lay cold and lifeless in the cold and lifeless streets. No, they would keep walking by. They would probably be happy that he was no longer dirtying their air with his own breath.
In the distance, he could see the building that he and the rest of the gang would be infiltrating and robbing in the next few hours: the First International Government Vault of Western Europe. According to Estonia, it had been once called the Louvre, and somehow Lithuania preferred the latter. It seemed to do more justice for such a work of architecture, with its magnificently decorated façade and its two wings on either side that seemed to stretch out from the main part of the structure like arms, embracing all who went near it, drawing them in.
Had it not been for the security measures that made the place nearly impenetrable, he would've called it beautiful.
"Ah, there's our target now, everyone!" His boss's horrifically pleasant voice came from directly behind him, causing him to instinctively shudder a bit. Lithuania vaguely remembered a time in which it would have taken perhaps days to get from where they were in Eastern Europe to this city. But—thanks to the brilliance of TERRA's so highly acclaimed scientists-transportation had been much improved since then. So it had only taken a few hours of sneaking a ride on the Continental Monorail, averaging speeds at about 800 miles per hour, to reach this place.
"Big Brother…I'm not sure about attacking like this," Belarus suddenly piped up, her curtain of sleek platinum-blonde hair swishing as she turned to face Russia. "I'll protect you from any bastard that tries to get within a few feet of you, of course…but if you did get injured, it would hinder our wedding plans, you know."
Russia's eyes flickered nervously towards his clearly delusional younger sister briefly before he managed to compose himself again. "What do you mean you're not sure? We are the greatest gang of countries to ever walk these streets...the greatest in all of Europe! The guards of this vault are merely obstacles that are meant to be eliminated by all of us, to test us!" The leader's voice rose in volume and confidence with every word.
"Actually, I agree with her, Russia," Ukraine began timidly, an almost motherly concern gracing her features.
"We are going up against powerful opposition," Estonia added, and Latvia ventured a cautious nod of agreement.
Lithuania did nothing as he watched his boss's face change once again, morphing into that inhuman and all too familiar creature, the onethat emerged when things didn't go just his way. That twisted, twisted, devilish countenance. Russia's true colors.
And still he smiled, smiled, smiled.
There was another being that dwelled inside the gang leader, Lithuania had decided long ago. It was some sort of powerful beast that lay coiled up like a parasite inside Russia, growing fat on the flesh and blood of its host's victims. And it always lashed out like a venomous serpent at times like this.
The monster had a name—it was called Madness.
"We will infiltrate the vault," he began cheerfully, through tightly clenched teeth, "and we will kill all who refuse to become one with me. Now, doesn't that sound lovely, everyone? Doesn't it just?"
His five subordinates turned their gazes downward in resignation.
Suddenly Lithuania felt something small and hard and deliberate collide with the back of his head, realizing a second later that it had been a pebble thrown at him.
He looked to make sure that Russia was distracted, then quietly snuck off in the direction from which the stone had come. He found himself in a small side street with a dead end and not a single trace of human life to speak of.
…That is, he thought so until he felt a forceful, insistent tug on the back of his shirt, yanking him backwards.
"Like, what the hell are you doing here?"
His eyes widened in recognition at the sound of the voice, the last one he expected to hear. He quickly turned around, and was sure enough met by a pair of narrowed forest eyes and the characteristic smirk that always seemed to accompany them.
"P-Poland!" Lithuania stuttered in surprise, only causing the other nation's amused grin to grow wider. "I could ask you the same thing…I was worried you might be dead by now!"
"Tch," the blonde country scoffed. "Please, Liet…you think I'd, like, go down that easily? I'm not a wuss like you."
Lithuania rolled his eyes in exasperation but did not make a retort, partly because it would do no good, and partly because he had almost missed the constant teasing he would receive from his friend, before Poland had been forced to go on the run.
"So…I guess if you're here, Liet, that means the jackass is too, huh?" he asked, the infuriating grin slowly sliding off his face.
Said man nodded reluctantly, knowing that the "jackass" being referred to was none other than his lunatic boss.
Lithuania remembered when he and Poland had first met. Back then, the latter had not had any way to get money, and so borrowed from the Iron Curtain, which at the time had just begun to earn its less-than-friendly reputation. Perhaps knowing that he would never in a million years be able to pay the amount back, Russia oh-so-kindly obliged and gave him the cash. Of course, inevitably, the situation only got worse, and none of the funds were returned. Now, the gang leader may have enjoyed lying to himself and fancied himself to be a lenient man, but in Lithuania's opinion he had just about as much patience as he had sanity. And so, once in the middle of the night, Poland vanished like mist in the night, and Lithuania had not seen nor heard a thing from him up to this very moment. Though Poland had never truly been part of the gang, Russia still saw the act as a form of treason.
And knowing his boss, Lithuania suspected that he had never quite forgotten the unpaid debt.
"And you…still work for him?" Poland's voice was growing gradually lower and bitterer by the moment.
Lithuania softly sighed, refusing to make eye contact. "Yes, I do," he said at last in an almost-whisper. It wasn't a subject he particularly enjoyed discussing.
"So why don't you just, like, leave? We could both get away from him if we tried!"
For a split second, the possibility of simply abandoning the gang was so deliciously tempting that his mind almost made it seem feasible to him. Then he remembered what he'd been told about what would happen if he ever left, about how he was at the greatest risk if he ever chose to do so…
"I…I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?" Poland's voice rose indignantly, appearing utterly taken aback. "You don't—"
His gaze suddenly shifted as his attention turned to something behind Lithuania, some sort of noise. He listened for a few long moments before recognizing a very specific footfall. "Shit!"
Lithuania watched in confusion as the other nation raced off, realizing an instant too late exactly what he was running from. He looked down to see a human shadow overwhelming his own, hanging over him like a storm cloud. Looking at the dark shape, he could see that the person standing behind him was tall, large-boned, and wore a scarf that flapped in the wind like a macabre third arm.
"What are you doing here, little Lithuania?"
Smile. Smile. Smile.
And he did just that, turning towards Russia and nervously forcing the corners of his mouth upwards. "I-I just…th-thought I'd scout out our surroundings a bit more, i-if you know what I mean, sir!"
To his immense relief, his boss seemed pleased with the lie, though whether or not he actually believed it was uncertain. "Ah, how clever of you! I won't teach you any lessons today, then, unlike yesterday when you made that little error of showing up late." He returned the grin and grabbed Lithuania's hand a little too tightly. "Now, come on, let's—"
Suddenly the larger man whipped around like a predator that had just caught the scent of fresh meat, his acute purple eyes scanning in every direction.
"…Is someone here with you, Lithuania?"
The gang member's heart thudded rapidly, feeling like a wild animal thrashing around inside his chest, rattling the bars of his ribcage. He prayed that Russia would continue being gullible, that Poland had already gone far enough away so that he wouldn't be pursued. "N-no…no one's anywhere around here. I-"
"You wouldn't lie to me," Russia interrupted, the words flowing slow and smooth and cold from his lips. His grip began to tighten. "…Would you, little Lithuania?"
He could only swallow and shake his head.
Russia paused for what seemed like eternity before turning once again to face Lithuania. That serene expression was back on his face, so content and so demented.
"No…of course you wouldn't."
Russia plunged his large pickaxe cleanly through the skull of yet another soldier that was guarding the bank, marveling as always at how utterly simple it was to kill a human. People were delicate, really, though they may not realize it—how easy it was to just stop one's heart from pumping, prevent one's lungs from taking in another breath.
He found the death of any person to be beautifully sad. It was beautiful because of all the lovely blood that was spilled, the colorful shades of crimson that colored a dull world as they sprayed and flowed out freely from a slain body. But it was sad, because the person he killed would never be able to become one with him. They would never be his friend, and for that reason he felt truly sorry for them, because his friends were always happy. He made sure they were happy—Latvia and Estonia and Lithuania and his sisters, He was always telling them to smile, smile, smile.
So, yes, it was beautifully sad, like…like…a sunflower. So mockingly gorgeous were those bright golden petals, and yet how they tortured him so, for no matter how hard he tried he could never grow them. He could never have that for himself.
Ah, ah, I hear what they whisper about me…they think I'm crazy. And that was why he had to put his friends in their places sometimes.
I'm not crazy.
"Come on, then," he called merrily to the others. Lithuania, Estonia, and Ukraine all held guns, but they didn't seem too keen on using them. Belarus had just knifed another enemy and was staring at Russia as though seeking approval, but he turned away. "Let's keep going! Where to next, Estonia?"
The smartest of the five glanced at the makeshift map of the huge building that he had drawn up himself. "We'll have to keep going down this marble hall here until-"
"No…"
Everyone looked up in tense silence as Russia gazed thoughtfully down the corridor that supposedly led to the main vault. Estonia gulped and took a few cautious steps backwards, afraid of punishment.
After a moment, the leader said, "There aren't enough soldiers here…if we're really that close to the money, this hall should be crawling with them."
"I-I suppose that's a good point…" Estonia admitted.
"Did you consider the underground entrances, Estonia?"
"Underground?" Ukraine jumped in. "What underground?"
Russia's calm smile seemed to grow impossibly wider as he stomped on the marble floor, which echoed under his feet and showed that it was hollow. "There must be a basement here, and that's where they keep all the cash. Now the only question is…ah, here we go!" He stepped over to a large metal grate in the floor and pulled it away to reveal an opening in the ground just large enough for a single person to fit through.
"This must be how the crews get down there to do maintenance. Still, it just seems to easy…they must have known we would probably take this route to the vaults, and lain some sort of death-trap for us down there. Well, I'll be going, then. You all stay her…I'd like to do this alone. Wish me luck!"
Before anyone could react, Russia had already descended down the hole and found himself in an underground passageway. The ceiling was low enough so that he had to crouch awkwardly as he walked. The occasional light bulb provided some source of dim illumination, but he was still having trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of him. Other people might have had a panic attack being in such cramped, claustrophobic conditions. He didn't feel the slightest bit intimidated by the dark spaces, though. He had enough of them in his mind anyway.
But I'm not crazy. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not.
Suddenly he heard a loud, echoing bang, and immediately flattened up as much as possible against the wall just in time to hear the ping of a bullet colliding with his iron axe.
From the darkness came a rumbling male's voice: "I recommend not moving. Not an inch."
Out from the shadows stepped the owner of that voice, a lone man with yellow locks and a white beret and an emerald glare.
Russia chuckled gaily. "I can tell already without asking that you're a country. Working for the government, eh? You must be quite desperate indeed. You don't feel like your betraying your kind?"
"I'm a hired mercenary, nothing more or less. In order to be a traitor, one has to have someone or something to betray," he muttered darkly as he slowly raised his rifle and aimed again. "I, on the other hand, am strictly neutral."