Egg Nation- Kidnappings in Europe
Three days ago…
The spying men clad in black hiding in the lush, green bushes of England's garden were left speechless. A moment ago their targets had all gathered into the innocent-looking shed, but all of a sudden a blinding white light consumed the entire structure. Once the brightness extinguished itself, the men easily stormed the storage shed (Thanks to the completely opened door, hanging off its hinges via America.) But to their surprise all that remained of the nations' presence was a large, empty pot sitting alone in the middle of the room. A tall well-built man dug his hand into the neatly pressed pants pocket, retrieving a cell phone. He quickly dialed a memorized number, and then brought the device to his ear, dreading the bad news he'd have to report.
"I assume this call is to inform me of the mission's status. So, have you captured them yet?" A gruff voice came over the phone, it was the director.
"I'm sorry sir, but they somehow evacuated the premises. Should we resume with the operation?" The man apologized, trying his very hardest to maintain a calm voice with the knowledge of how the director would most likely react.
"Of course you imbecile! You've got the coordinates to their residences, go and stake their homes. They have to return eventually and if they don't, then take whoever you can get. It would've been nice if you had gotten all those big ones, especially him, but we technically only need one. So don't report back until you succeed!" The director ordered with a displeased tone, hanging up without giving the man a chance to respond.
'He makes it sound like a mere child could do it blind-folded… Oh well, better get started.' He sighed, dishearteningly clamping the phone shut and returning it to his pocket. After massaging his temples, the man turned to his confused-looking team.
"Alright new plan, we're going to continue the mission at each of their homes. If they don't come, just take whoever happens to be there and make sure it's one in our database. The last thing we need is to pick up an innocent bystander." The man ordered in an exhaustion that he and all of his teammates shared. They then started pairing off like students deciding partners of a project, calling out the names of the country they wanted to stalk. The coupled members left for their various transports, once only one was left standing the agitated leader turned to him and received the simple answer of, "Italy"
Ring ring… Ring ring… Ring ring
"Ja this is Germany, I'm not here at the moment and am most likely out rescuing Italy… again. Please leave a message and I might get back to you. But if this is Prussia, don't waste my machine's tape with another drunken rant!"
Beep!
"Hey! I thought we'd agreed to keep the existence of those conversations classified. Anyway, you're one to talk. You're way late! Where are you? Are you at Italy's? You better not! You said we were going out tonight… We're going out, even if I have to drag your ass into the bar!"
Prussia threw the phone onto the receiver and stood up from the chair he was lounging in, forcing Gilbird off of its perch atop of the albino's head. The bird fluttered around after the disturbance and landed on his shoulder, purposely pecking him when it returned. Gilbert glared at the yellow fuzz ball irritably, but its blank black eyes won the stare-off. The nation 'pft'ed as the bird disengaged from the contest proudly with its victory.
'I totally let you win because I'm just that awesome and nice!' He reassured himself; stepping out of his house.
"But seriously, my control-freak bruder always calls me after his meetings. Wonder what's up with him? Oh well, nothing beer can't solve! That's for sure, right Gilbird?" He asked enthusiastically, half talking to himself and the bird as he walked.
"Chirp chirp" It sang happily, bouncing up and down along with Prussia's agreeing laughter. The duo went on like this for a leg of their journey across the borders of various countries, unprepared for the stirring beast awaiting them at their destination… I mean Lovino… in a really, really bad mood.
Lovino paced back and forth in the kitchen, his face on fire and a grimace permanently chiseled onto his features. He glared at the clock hanging on the wall every so often and followed his observation with a flood of curses. The fragrance of tomatoes barely lingered in the air anymore, and the two plates of now cold lasagna sat untouched on the table. The Italian then suddenly halted in his tracks, starring at the wasted plates of food, and was overtaken by an immeasurable furry that manifested itself in him throwing both platters at the wall.
"Two hours… fucking two hours that garlic-smelling idiot made me wait two fucking hours for him, and he still hasn't shown up! That's it, I'm going to find his German-loving ass and beat it to a pulp!" The nation swore stomping out of the kitchen, untying the apron he wore and chucking it towards the counter after crumpling the article of clothing first. The bundled cloth was thrown with enough power that it managed to topple over a bag of flour, coating an entire corner of the kitchen in white. For added measure he kicked down a couple of chairs as he walked through the sitting room and knocked over the side table lamp.
Lovino was beyond angry, every cell in his body burned with a fiery passion to inflict any kind of harm onto his brother and make him regret each second that he had spent waiting for him. Evil plots of the various physical and psychological tortures churned in Lovino's mind, one of those plans involved a whole lot of England's cooking, and a sick satisfying grin that one would find more at home on Russia crept onto his face. His malice fueled concentration was shattered though by the knocking of someone at the front door.
"You sure took your damn sweet time! You had better have a good explanation for this, Felicia-" The furious Italian began in a harsh whisper, but when he'd thumped up to the door and flung it open Lovino was shouting at full volume. But his words and voice immediately died when his eyes fell upon a man that wasn't his brother, it was to his dismay Prussia.
"No need to worry about the suckitude of your life any longer, the awesome Gilbert is here!" The Prussian announced, with the small yellow bird sitting on his head chirping in agreement. South Italy's hand clawed at the thick door, leaving deep marks and producing a foul screech. Starring down daggers at the unwelcomed guest Lovino growled, "What the fuck do you want, you potato bastard?"
"My bruder. He has unawesomely abandoned me on the night we'd promise to hit a couple bars. Undoubtedly to spend time in the incredibly less awesome presence of North Italy, so where are you hiding him?" Gilbert explained, after ignoring Lovino's 'potato bastard' comment. At the realization of their current predicament, the Italian slightly eased his hostility but now took on curiosity to his angry manner.
"So you're saying that Feliciano isn't at your drunkard of a brother's place?" He asked untactfully, wanting to verify at least where his brother wasn't, but only ended up insulting the other nation. Prussia clenched his fists defensively and retorted, "Hey; that's my bruder you're talking about, and that makes him a hell of a lot more awesome than you'll ever be, you spineless Italian!"
"What the Hell did you just say to me y-" Lovino's words faded in and out from the two eavesdroppers' perspective. Their trip to Italy went fairly well; there weren't any complications, but the lack of progress from their peers did put more than a little pressure for success. The higher ranked man still grumbled disapprovingly about how the team in Russia withdrew because of a girl breaking down the country's front door and chanting about how she wanted to marry him. The underling continued to poke his head out of the branches the two were hiding in and nagged, "Have you identified them yet?"
"No, I'm not sure who either of them is. But the one who answered the door looks like Italy, and we have this guy in photographs with him, so he could be a closely related country." The superior replied, glancing at the Italian to confirm his statement.
"And the other guy?" The slender spy asked while eyeing the man in question through a pair of binoculars goofily pressed against his face. The well-built man tried not to look at his immature companion and said, "There's nothing recent on him; we do have a photo of a painting that predates World War Two but nothing else."
The leader closed the small laptop he'd been using to browse the company's achieves and shrugged once he'd tucked it away. He cocked open the bullet chamber of his gun and loaded the barrels with tranquilizer darts. The other man watched him with childish envy and begged in his soft voice, "Can I help too?"
"That depends, can you shoot?" He asked with high doubts of the underling's ability. The subordinate held a considering finger to his chin and honestly answered, "Yes, when I feel like it."
"Oh really, does this make you feel like it?" He hollered as he aimed his loaded weapon at the unsuspecting man; frightening him into retrieving and filling his gun with proper ammunition, then firing wildly. By then the two nations were at each other's throats, having totally forgotten about their brothers, and thoroughly invested in the name calling battle that'd ensued. The first couple shots went unregistered by them, but after one struck Prussia and brought him to the ground Lovino was taken aback.
"Who dares challenge the strength of the mighty Prussia?" Gilbert commanded; pushing his limp body up from his knees and lashing his limbs around as he turned, searching for his enemy with a blood lust that was all too familiar in his red eyes. More darts were fired at them from their mysterious enemy, and before Lovino could retreat into his brother's house, he was hit. The drug immediately went to work numbing his senses, even after plucking out the dart and discarding it Lovino could continue to feel a paralysis taking over his body.
The firing went on until the clicking of an empty gun could be heard. Prussia's adrenaline stimulated rage kept him on his feet, albeit in a sloppy stance but still up. While Lovino had sunk to his knees, his droopy eyes offering a blurred and distorted surrounding to examine, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a fallen yellow object that's also been struck by the unknown assailant. Then his body tipped over, and he supported himself on his hands and knees, barely able to lift his head up. The attackers finally revealed themselves, dropping from a tree and approached them. One pranced over and cheered about how well he had done, while the other followed him in silence.
"I can't believe he actually did it…" The leader muttered in disbelief before coming up to the more conscious of the two targets and inquired, "You are countries, correct?"
"Only the most awesome o' 'em all… 'n even withou' no armee, I cn still ta' yo on." Prussia barked but slurred his works and lost the threat behind his voice that he'd intended. This proud attitude annoyed the leader, even if it came from a powerful being such as a nation. He lifted his still loaded gun and shot the Prussian, pushing him into unconsciousness and onto the ground. Lovino's weakened arms trembled as his own weight became an overbearing burden and finally gave way. He thumped to the earth and tried to glare at the men, but only managed to come up with a lazy gaze.
"G-guess I won't be having dinner… w-with that idiot… I'm so-sorry… fratello" Lovino forced the mumble out of his stiff lips before succumbing to his drowsiness. His last memory of that night was the muffled words of those men and their looming forms.
Then the darkness faded into a room that was foreign to both nations. Lovino was the first to wake up and observe their new location; first noticing through his hazy eyes how the artificial light gave the room a stale impression, making him long for the erratic colors of a sunrise. But the lighting was the least of his worries, because as his mind cleared and the surroundings came into focus, South Italy discovered that he and Prussia were confined. They were strapped into chairs cemented onto the metal floor, and the chairs were inside a glass chamber connected by a mess of wires and machinery to a multitude of computer panels. The Italian pulled at his restraints vigorously in vain, to the point where his wrists became raw and blood trickled down the sensitive skin. He grinded his teeth and hissed loudly in pain, when the slumbering nation awoke.
Prussia opened his mouth wide and let out a long yawn, blinking his heavy eye lids before realizing the predicament he was in. He turned to find Lovino beside him in a separate glass container; the Prussian began to speak, but soon ceased when he received a look of confusion from the other prisoner. Bored with no one to talk to, he turned his attention toward the busy scientists that scurried about the room. Some of them frantically typed and studied their monitors, while others scribbled down notes as they went about, but whenever any of their glances landed on the albino, they quickly retreated into their work.
"Do any of you have a problem with the awesome me?" Gilbert asked aggressively, pulling himself threateningly forward as far as his bindings allowed. Most of the onlookers cowered behind their clipboards or whatever furniture was available. Prussia snickered to himself, pleased with the reaction, as Lovino rolled his eyes. Then a middle aged man with a grim face and haunting aura leaned down, pressing a button on one of the panels and spoke, his words penetrating the sound barrier, "It's good to see you both up, once again. I am Kazuomi Hoshina, the managing director for Easter. "
"Again, what do you mean again? This is the first time, you delusional old man. I would've remembered an ugly mug like yours, mister fucking director!" Lovino snapped at him, with an annoyance in his voice spawned by everything around him. The director grimaced at the comment and continued to speak, "I'm sorry, but you are mistaken. You've been coming in and out of consciousness for quite some time now. It's not surprising, our tests have been known to do that to their subjects."
"My bruder! Where is he, what've you done with him?" Prussia demanded in a frightening tone; a hint of a murderous rage hanging on his lips, burning in his eyes and pulsing through his veins. This site would have sent the bravest of warriors fleeing for their lives, and it did stir the director into stepping back. But he regained his confidence and went on saying with a sense of satisfaction,"If you mean Germany, we've already found him wandering about and given the order to capture him. But I think you should be more concerned with yourselves."
Both South Italy and Prussia began the race to yell an objection at Kazuomi Hoshina's eerie statement, but the click of another pressed button drew their attention to the activated machine beside them. And then it started. A purple stream of visible energy leaked into each chamber, swirling around the two captives. They fidgeted about in their chairs; trying to evade the caresses of the dark light but failed as the energy consumed them, bringing the nations into a world filled with nightmares. Every instance in their lives where they'd felt any pain or hardship replayed itself relentlessly and became all the two knew, it was their past and present and future.
The prisoners' tormented cries caused some of the scientists to stagger back, the anguish of wars and countless ungodly trials conveyed through their screams, but once the yelling died down, the nations were in a vegetable state. Sitting motionlessly, their steady breathing was the only sign of any life. Besides that they appeared as husks of themselves, only knowing how to act like South Italy and Prussia but never being them. One woman holding her face in a set of palms whispered through her hushed sobs, "What've we done?"
"Domesticated the world's most feral creatures; plus it has brought us one step closer to obtaining the Embryo, and that's all that matters." The director answered with a harshness in his voice that made her flinch. He then stepped up to the glass chambers, motioning to have them opened and the nations' restraints unlatched. Once these tasks were done he calmly ordered, "Get up. We have to prepare for the guests that'll surely come."
Both rose and unquestioningly followed him out of the laboratory. The next couple days went by quickly for those two, never making an effort to remember the events that occurred around them: the completion of another, smaller containment unit and the loud nation that was forced into it went unnoticed. In their opinion, nothing significant happened until the alarms went off. They were waiting in position with the director when the group of children barged in, and they too would have been forgotten instantly if it weren't for the little Italian hanging onto his German friend.
Lovino didn't recognize his brother initially, and he had to sift through his jealous-filled memories in order to find his chubby face. But once the Italian had it; he held onto the envious rage he bore for his brother, crept out of the shadows and scolded, "Feliciano! What have I told you about hanging out with that damn potato-eater?"
A/N: Flashback chapter! Sorry, I originally intended this to be like a mini chapter that was going to come out along with a full chapter, but it kinda got a little longer than expected. And I know I won't be able to do any writing over the weekend, so I though I'd at least give you something. Beggers can't be choosers, enjoy and have fun!
Peace~! -MagnifiedSun