DDISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia.
Chapter Twelve: Capture
Their eyes flicked from the glint of the revolver to the cold glare of Kat, widening in shock. This couldn't be happening, someone like Kat wouldn't do this to them, right?
Antonio had to speak up. "Kat, what are you doing? Put the revolver down-"
"My name," her voice was barely a whisper; "is not Kat."
"What?" The Spaniard's face turned to confusion.
"My name," she repeated, "is Katyushya."
He furrowed his brows. "Okay, so what? It's still got Kat in it-"
"My name," she said once more, her voice much louder now, "is Katyushya Braginski." She snarled slightly, making her words much more intimidating.
Antonio was still oblivious as ever to the threat, but Francis gasped, clutching his friend's arm. He could see the resemblance now, how similar she looked to him in that moment. "Antonio, we have to go-"
"What, so that's your name," he ignored Francis and spoke to Katyushya. "Does it matter? Come on, put the gun down-"
"You do not recognise my name?" Her voice became quieter once more as she asked this. "You do not see the threat presented?"
"Threat? What do you-"
"Antonio!" Francis hissed. "Have you never heard of the Braginskis? They are the leaders of the Russian mafia!"
Antonio turned to his friend. "Really? There's a Russian mafia too?"
"Pour l'amour de Dieu, Antonio, we've got to-"
"Are we interrupting something?" A new voice said, her voice even icier than Katyushya's. The pair looked over to see a new arrival, a girl shorter than Katyushya with waist-length blonde hair accessorised by a bow. Her appearance would have looked innocent, were it not for her face, consisting of a scowl to rival Lovino's and a glare that could split concrete. In her gloved hand was a dagger, only visible by the shine of the moon reflecting on it, and the drip of red falling down the blade. "Cестра, you could have had them dead by now!"
"Natalya, Ivan wants them alive!" Katyushya protested, her glare vanishing for a minute. "We have to capture them, not kill them!"
"Well then, shouldn't we be doing that, instead of standing here like idiots?" Natalya shot back. "Come on, let's get to work."
Francis and Antonio, who hadn't dared try to escape as the sisters spoke, gulped. They were doomed, weren't they?
"Ladies, please," Francis said charmingly, though his voice still shook with fear. "Let's not cause any trouble now!"
The resulting glare could easily have killed a man, if that were possible. "There would be no trouble if you would stop asking questions and let us capture you already." The younger girl growled.
Francis stepped back slightly, his mouth firmly closed with no retort to be given. Antonio too stayed silent, not sure if words could possibly do them any good now.
Katyushya gave a sweet smile that hid venom behind its innocent appearance. "Good, no more resistance. Now, have a nice sleep, boys."
The males were unable to be confused for long, as almost immediately they were struck on the back of their heads and sent into unconsciousness.
After having awoken in an unfamiliar carriage with a tight binding restricting their movements, Antonio and Francis spent the next few hours wondering what could possibly be awaiting them at their destination as the Braginski sisters chatted away in a language neither of the men could understand. Upon feeling the carriage come to a halt and without even being informed of why they had stopped, they were then pulled harshly from the carriage by two strong-looking men in black suits before being dragged into a tall building with no identifying marks or features other than its utter grey-ness. The pair could only guess where they were, and only one significant thought occurred as to their whereabouts:
A headquarters of the Russian Mafia, no doubt.
Of course, they hadn't been travelling for long enough for it to be very far from where they had been captured, as they'd only been unconscious for a couple of hours and then they'd only been travelling for five or so more after that, but even that couldn't tell them which country they were in.
The interior of the building was just as dreary as the exterior; everything they passed, whether it was a simple table or a complicated piece of machinery, was in dark shades of black, grey and brown. It was as though the world had just been turned to monochrome, all of the colour having been sucked out of the very soul of the planet.
Antonio didn't like it, but then again, who would?
When they finally reached their destination, it turned out to be a door. One of the men knocked in a specific but irrelevant pattern on the door, which was answered with a series of taps on what sounded like a wooden desk. The man then opened the door and allowed them to enter.
It was more colourful than the other rooms in the building, with varying shades of red painting the walls and covering the floor. A desk stood in the centre of the room, with two wooden chairs sitting on their side of it. To the desk's right, in the far corner was a dying plant, and in the left was a plain filing cabinet. Behind the desk was a window, looking out onto the grey world outside, but what was in front of that was more interesting. In a majestic throne-like chair on the opposite side of the desk sat a rather large man. His shoulders were broad and his posture good, making the man seem even taller, despite that he would most likely tower over both Antonio and Francis (who were reasonably tall, mind you) or possibly even the even taller Ludwig (who stood at about 180cm, at last measurement) if he stood up. His hair was of a similar shade to Katyushya and Natalya's. His eyes, however, stood out even from his smart suit or fancy ring. They were an ice blue, though perhaps 'violet' seemed a better word to describe them, but unlike many other sets of eyes, these were unreadable. One could not possibly tell what he was thinking in that moment, when he gave the newcomers a serene smile and told them hello, that he'd been expecting them.
The only thing they could tell about this man was that he was the leader of the Russian mafia, Ivan Braginski, and it would probably be best to be very afraid of him.
Translations
Pour l'amour de dieu - For the love of God (French)
Cестра - Sister (Russian)
Author's Notes: I'm sorry "OTL
To be honest, I have no excuse for forgetting to upload this on time, I just forgot. I'm sorry...
Thanks again for all of your support, it's much appreciated!
Until Sunday,
~Random
