Hiccup...

HICCUP~

Russia giggled. He could not stop giggling, or hiccupping for that matter.

He was curious why Tatar drank all that awful smelling vodka, and he finally figured it out.

The stuff tasted delicious~

He knew he really shouldn't have, but he was so damn curious on why Tatar drank all the Russian vodka, I mean, he might be eight, but his people still made vodka, so the kid still owned some. But Russia himself had never tried it; Tatar always took it from him and drank it.

He felt ...what's the word? Пьяный?

Yes. Drunk. That's how he felt! Every nerve of him felt relaxed, and he had eaten recently, for Tatar was nice enough to give him food... even if it was for the first time in a week... But the food eased him, allowing something to soak up the vodka in his stomach.

He was almost certain Tatar would be furious for him drinking his vodka, but right now, he really didn't care. His aching body from the work Tatar put him through was eased, like he actually slept in a real bed for once, and his muscles were soothed from all the labor he did.

He had to work harder now, that he was older, and was surprisingly tall for his age, topping five feet at only eight. And now he could reach higher things, and was stronger.

Which meant if Tatar was angry, he could get away with beating him harder and not risking the boys working abilities.

But even with his system shutting down with drowsiness, he had this sudden idea...of revenge towards the man who abused him all these years, which is not something a young boy should think of, even if he was drunk.

Yes, that would be a great idea! He felt so...strong. Did vodka make you stronger? Russia giggled, maybe it did! He drank a lot of it too.

Tatar was in the room that represented a living room, minus countless piles of crap that Tatar horded.

"Tatar..." Russia's words slurred together. He looked around the room, and grabbed a makeshift weapon.

A pipe, which lay leaned up against a wall.

"Russia, what do you want?" Tatar growled, glaring at the boy, turning from his position in order to face the tall child.

Fear showed in his eyes as Russia dropped the pipe onto Tatar's figure, whom was barely taller than him now.

Russia laughed. Oh how FUN this was! This...THING had caused him so much pain, and tormented him for nearly four years. It was fun to finally show this creature what it meant to be Russian... his Russian Revenge.

Repeatedly, at a constant rate he brought that pipe down on Tatar, who cried with pain, his eyes wet with fear.

"You don't like this treatment? Hehehehehe~ Imagine how I felt when you hurt me so many times... So many times..." Russia's body froze as he lowered his pipe. He looked down at Tatar, who was bleeding. The blood... so beautiful. He wanted to create more, make more flow out of the awful man's body.

Laughter, but it wasn't any laughter that the tall child generated.

It was psychotic laughter.

"You're blood is pretty, da? Da? DA? DADADADADADADA? I'm so GLAD I got this opportunity to thank you for all the KINDNESS you've treated me to over the years! Aren't you glad too? Aren't you? TELL ME YOU ARE!" Russia screamed at the man. He smashed his pipe down once more onto Tatar's body, who cried out pathetically from the blow. Russia brought the pipe to his face and smiled, wiping a pit of Tatar's blood away from it.

"You're a horrible and disgusting man, who should have never been born. You treat me, A CHILD! Like you do... So helpless, I was... I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!" Russia screamed, kicking Tatar, who by now had fallen to the ground in a heap, moaning in a pool of his own blood.

A twisted grin came on the child's face. "I will forever hold a smile upon my face, thinking on this moment I free myself of you." The child smiled, as Tatar glared and spat in Russia's face, which was just blood, and Russia grinned sadistically.

"Silly little kitty..." Russia grinned as he struck a strong blow to Tatar's skull, a sickening crack would have sent shivers down a sane man's spine.

But Russia was no longer sane...

Or was he yet a man.

He kicked Tatar- no, Mongolia, in the gut, and established the he had not killed the man, he was only unconscious.

Not that Russia would have cared if he killed the man or not. The awful man deserved to die.

But something stopped Russia from leaving that moment. Something caught his eye.

A scarf.

Now, he had a scarf. Rags the he gathered over the years, making sure they were a similar colour to each other, stitching the rags together in a form of a makeshift scarf to keep away the bitter cold of his country. But the scarf he saw was the one his big sister gave him so long ago. He wanted it back, for Mongolia took the scarf saying these words.

'You must be a good boy in order to receive nice things.'

But he was a good boy now, right? Kolkolkol. He 'took care of' his biggest problem like all the big kid nations did! He grabbed the scarf, and some vodka that stood next to it. He already drank a whole bottle, and he wanted more for later! He would be going outside, and it was awfully cold. The vodka would warm him up, no?

Russia tore off the scarf made of rags, and tossed it on a heap on the floor. He no longer wanted such a disgusting piece of fabric. It would only bring him bad memories. He took the scarf big sister gave him, and wrapped it around his neck, burying his face into the soft, woolen fabric. The scarf reminded him of home, and he planned to go there.

Shoving the vodka in his coat pocket, he grinned, noticing how he was all nice and pretty covered in Mongolia's blood.

But before going back home, the one Ta-Mongolia tore him from so long ago, he wanted to go to that one nation, whom he promised to befriend so long ago. He felt like one of the big adults now, no longer a child.

He aged thirteen years that day, and was nearly grew a foot.

He was free from Tatar, at long last. He and his people were free.

And he wanted more, and more. The 'more' he never received.

He wanted Lithuania.

And he would make him work for him, YES! That's what he'll do. He was big and strong now, even if he still harbored the mind of a child, he wanted someone to do what HE said for once.

If he had to go through years of abuse and labor, why shouldn't his new...friend do the same for him?

KOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKO-

Russia woke up from his dream, wondering what brought it on. Glancing around the room, which appeared to be the stables, he noticed a bottle of vodka in his left hand. Suspecting immediately that he got drunk.

Day was breaking, and the sun made his head throb. Standing up, and nearly losing his balance, something caught his eye.

a burnt out fire, and a branding iron on the other side of the room. The fire recently died, from the way smoke still raised off the ashes. He walked over to the branding iron, and picked it up. The iron was cold, but he found something on the metal that made him shake in fear.

Flesh, burnt flesh peeled off the branding iron. Feeling no pain on his own body, he pieced together what happened.

He branded his friend...

He was no better than a slave master now. Guilt made his body shake. He threw the branding iron on the ground, and fled the stables. Slamming the door open hard, and running up the stairs, and going to Lithuania's door.

He unlocked the door, god knows why the lock was on the outside, and thrust it open. He shook as Lithuania screamed in a way that can only be described as fear.

But the door did not open how Russia had hoped, the door was blocked. By what, he couldn't tell. He was only able to open the door a few inches.

"Lithuania! Please! Open the do-" He was cut off.

"No!" He cried, Russia peeked in, and saw Lithuania was trembling trying to cover his body with his blanket. Tears fell out of the man's eyes.

"Lithuania... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Forgive me, please, PLEASE!" Russia screamed. Lithuania jumped, his words causing him to grip the blankets tightly.

"Go away!" Lithuania's voice shook, and his lip trembled. The light, in which he could barely make out, was the redness on his right shoulder, the mark from the branding affecting the entire area.

Russia just couldn't understand why he has yet to leave him like everyone else...

Russia slammed the door shut, then reopened it with such force the chair broke on its back two legs and the door flew off its hinges, falling to the ground with a thud.

"Don't tell me to go away!" Russia stormed into the room, grabbing Lithuania's arm and yanking him out of bed for the second time that day. He took Lithuania and turned him around, trying to get a good look at the brand.

His eyes widened, expecting to see a red brand mark the pale skin of the brunette. Shock overcame him with all the scars and sickening bruises that littered the small man's back. The fact that he did all this to Toris...back... he wanted to die from the shame. No wonder Lithuania was so afraid of him. Russia...he...he never imagined he did this to Lithuania... So many times he was whipped, hit with his pipe, and finally branded...

He was really no better than Tatar now.

"I'm so sorry... I don't know how you go on with your day like- what's this?" Russia grabbed the shock collar sharply, releasing it all to quickly once he realized he choked Lithuania.

"Is this why you haven't left yet? Because you'll be electrocuted? I-I..." Russia put his hands on Lithuania's shoulders his back still to him. The brunette was shaking as Russia lowered his lips to the brand, placing them upon the wound. He knew his lips were cold, as were the rest of his body. He was so cold...always, it seemed. And in summer, it was barely warm... and so muggy.

Lithuania flinched, Russia could feel the him jerk hard. Guilt washed up inside the violet eyed man, knowing he was the cause of Lithuania being a nervous wreck all of the time

Russia's breathing became heavy as he removed his lips.

"I'm sorry..." Russia pushed Lithuania away, forgetting his own strength and ending up shoving him. Russia shook harder now and fled the room, running as fast as he could, as if that would lead him away his problems. He finally stopped and fell to his knees. He covered his face with his hands, sobbing. He was such a awful person, he didn't know he did these things...

He wished he could take every mark on Lithuania's back away.

He knew he couldn't.

I'm ending the chapter there! Let me explain some stuff.

The pipe thing, THAT IS NOT HOW RUSSIA AQUIRED HIS PIPE. He got his pipe from Germany's when he visited. Go read the webcomic.

So, yeah. I wrote Russia's breaking point. Where he became insane.

He also matured greatly after beating up Mongolia, where he had the mind of a child, but the body of an adult.

Even if he became insane.

And that person that reviewed as Guest, my laptop automatically fixes word like 'Baltics' to 'Baltic's'. I'm sorry that bothered you, I'll try to stop it.

Starting now.

Hehehehe.

I am so MEAN to these two...

And I know I have my history wrong, just go with it, OkAy? I'm ReAlLY NoT onE TO cARe!

YoU WiLL NoT esCApE~

Neeky-chan/Spain will get that...

Himiwari-chan/Russia, I didn't get Russia all beat up this time! Are you not happy? Did you like all the pictures of Mongolia I spammed your email with?

I'm such a nice person.

Пьяный-Russian: Drunk

Review!