Thanks to AquaEclipse for reviewing. Now on with the show!
Warning: The following chapter contains a segment where torture happens with a lot of detail. It'll be kind of disturbing, so I recommend caution and bracing yourselves.
Romania was not having a good day… obviously.
He scoffed angrily as he lightly kicked a broken chair, just one of the things that got damaged in the chaos, and he brought a hand up to his small top hat, frowning at the unpleasant situation he landed in. Why?
Well, for starters, right now it was pretty bad. Like, really bad. How bad exactly? Hmm, well, about most of the nations here that weren't mentally unbalanced were either dead or in someplace else therefore leaving himself, Egypt, Honduras, Hungary and Bosnia as the only nations left standing. The other group all fled to God knows where, while they're left dealing with the damage done.
As selfish it might sound, that actually wasn't the main thing on Romania's mind. No, what he just couldn't get off his mind and upset him to no end was Bulgaria. That idiot didn't manage to hurt Romania (hah! As if he could), unlike Honduras, who wound up getting several cuts.
It's over. They're not friends anymore, Romania failed to see how they could be after this. That's it. What's there to say? Lies were revealed, Romania and Bulgaria hurt each other with no hesitation on either side, they both threatened each other, and in response to Romania intent for revenge, Bulgaria threatened Moldova of all people. How could Bulgaria do that?! He loved Moldova!
But apparently caring for Moldova like a little brother didn't equal caring about him, and Romania's innocent little brother could rot in hell because that manipulative, heartless, fucking piece of shit was much, much more important and too good for the world to lose. If Romania hurt Turkey, then he'll pay the price by seeing Moldova suffer.
In fact, he bet if that idiot's so-called "beloved" ordered it, Bulgaria wouldn't hesitate to give both him and Moldova a slow and grueling demise. That liar definitely seemed twisted enough to do something like that to them, and the look on Bulgaria's face when Romania injured Turkey...
Romania groaned and slapped his own forehead. Ugh, why Bulgaria? Why fall in love with Turkey? Turkey of all people. Still, at least it wasn't Russia, now that would have made Romania throw up. But why Turkey? It utterly baffled Romania that Turkey merely "charmed" Bulgaria into becoming his deranged servant. That bastard had to have driven Bulgaria insane so he could do just that.
Bulgaria…
"Hey." Romania heard the hag say, but he quietly growled to himself and ignored her. "Hey, Vlad!"
The use of his human name caught his attention, and he snapped his head toward her in annoyance. "What do you want, hag? I'm not in the mood to put up with you right now."
Hungary scoffed, and her unusually gloomy green eyes avoided his gaze. "Trust me, I'm not in the mood either."
Romania raised an eyebrow but then his expression softened somewhat at seeing the hag staring down worriedly at Poland's corpse. Ah, Hungary's been at that for a while, she seemed intent on remaining there waiting for Poland to wake up. He shot a glance towards the red spot on floor where the crushed pieces of the guy's heart were crushed, it looked quite gross, but it didn't bother someone like Romania so much.
Poland still laid unmoving on the ground, his eyes closed had been closed by Hungary, and the gaping hole on his chest was almost impossible to ignore. Yup, Hungary will have to wait many hours at least before Poland comes back, especially with his heart like that.
Speaking of what was done with Poland's heart, that was kind of weird and rather unnecessary, no? Of the various explanations that popped up in Romania's mind, the one that seemed most likely was that Lithuania wanted to stall Poland's revival for as long as possible, but even that didn't make much sense. Wait, did it even matter? Poland's going to come back...
So why did Poland look so… dead to Romania?
"B… Bel, Nica and… Costa can't… help us right now." Honduras sniffed, but kept her face grim. "Bel died just five minutes ago, I don't think she could have been able to do much if she survived anyway thanks to her injuries."
"I'm… fine." Egypt responded with just the slightest bit of uncertainty in his voice. True, Egypt may not be vomiting blood anymore, but he looked worse for wear. "I sense that the attacks on my capital have stopped, but the damage done is still taking its toll on me."
"Will you be alright?"
"Yes, I think I will." Egypt nodded, looking down at his robes stained with his own blood in distaste. "Anyway, how about the rest of you?"
Hungary flexed her arm, giving a rather forced smile. "I'm okay. Still got a lot left in me."
"And you, Romania?"
"Other than the fact that one of my best friends just turned out to be a huge liar, tried to stab my eye and threatened Moldova, I'm just peachy." Romania grinned, which he was sure looked like he was gritting his teeth. "Oh, you meant physically! In that case I got no injuries."
The others looked surprised at how sarcastic and snippy he sounded. Romania hardly ever used sarcastic humor, it wasn't exactly his style, he preferred being positive, but he couldn't help it. He was very, very pissed right now.
Egypt cleared his throat. "Anyway, back to more important matters, I think it's imperative that we try to find France."
"Si, I think that's…" Honduras trailed off and her hand went to her chest before she composed herself. "I... I think..."
"Honduras?"
Suddenly she burst into violent coughing and then stared wide-eyed at the blood on her hand. Honduras turned to look at them, her filled with confusion and horror, she opened her mouth to say something, but only a choked sound came out before she collapsed.
"Honduras!" Egypt rushed to the woman's side, kneeling to check what's wrong.
"What? What is it, Egypt? Is she alright?" Romania asked, though he mentally pinched himself for that question.
"She's dead." Egypt said in disbelief.
Romania widened his eyes. That's ridiculous, how could she be dead? Sure, Bulgaria did get her with his scalpel more than once but the cuts were hardly bleeding, not even close to being at risk of bleeding out.
Wait a minute... He didn't get hurt by the scalpel, Honduras did, Romania felt just fine, but Honduras died minutes after getting wounded by Bulgaria. No one else tried to attack her and no one other than Bulgaria managed to hurt her. It's all starting to come together. Shit, that clever bastard. But wait, then how come Bulgaria wasn't affected? He had the damn thing in his shoe! You'd had to be an idiot to make that mistake.
Unless of course he drank some sort of antidote in advance or he's somehow immune to the…
"Poison." Romania growled, baring his fangs. "Bulgaria slathered his scalpel in poison. No wonder he was wearing gloves!"
Egypt's eyes widened slightly, and he pressed his palm against his forehead. "Of course…"
Hungary gaped at him and looked back and forth between him and Honduras. "Wh-What? But doesn't that mean that you-"
"Nu, Dimitri didn't get me, I'm fine, hag. You're still stuck with me whether you like it or not." Romania teased, in and the glare the hag gave him, and he sighed loudly. "Looks like it'll just be the four of us."
Hooray…
"I'm sorry, the four of us?" Egypt asked with a raised eyebrow.
Huh? Hungary looked at Egypt with the same confusion Romania had and blinked. "Yes, me, you, Romania and Bosnia. Emir's not exactly a fighter, he's a little slow and he's not really in the best state to fight but we need to find out what's wrong with him!"
"But I don't see him anywhere."
"What?!" Hungary shrieked like a banshee, no, worse than a banshee and began to run around the room. "B-But how?! He was right here hiding behind this couch, I saw him!"
"I was kind of busy cursing at Turkey and Bulgaria to notice Bosnia getting dragged out." Romania said sheepishly, scratching his head, and he sighed at the look Hungary gave him.
Oh my God, he's going to get beaten up so bad.
But he wasn't going down without a fight. Romania scowled. "You know, hag, it's not like you were doing a fantastic job keeping an eye on him! Tell me, what exactly were you doing while Bosnia was being taken?"
"I was helping Egypt up." Hungary spat, and an infuriating victorious smirk adorned her haggish face. "At least my reason was noble and understandable while you were basically throwing a tantrum!"
"A tantrum? Oh, that's rich! This coming from the hag who demolishes rooms with her frying pan whenever Czech sends you the wrong gay porn tapes?" Romania retorted venomously and felt himself smirk at Hungary's hilarious reaction.
Egypt looked positively mortified and scowled at Hungary while taking several steps away from her. Hungary flushed blood red and waved her arms frantically at Egypt.
"I-I-I do not! And you know my boss has cut off my supply for over ten years!" Hungary all but shrilled, and her frying pan hand twitched dangerously.
"Hence why you need Czech to send you the-"
"SILENCE!" Egypt barked, and the two immediately shut their mouths, he glared at them. "This is not the time for petty squabbles. We three are the only ones still breathing and able to aid France. Now, I understand that the two of you are still rather baffled by the situation, I really do, and I promise that I will give you more answers later, but now is not the time for that. If Bosnia really was kidnapped, then I'm sure he'll be at the same place France is, because Haiti is more than likely to be there, and Hong Kong is in dire need of healing magic…"
Egypt paused, probably to make sure they were paying attention, and they were (Romania felt that he'd be cast into the Duat if he wasn't), then he continued.
"Therefore, we can kill two birds with one stone by finding France. So, I beg of you, because I'm stressed enough that my companions are out of commission, please put your differences aside for at least an hour so we can succeed." Egypt breathed out, panting.
Romania let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding and turned to Hungary, who bit her lip and nodded. Romania stared at her for a few moments before sighing.
"Da, da, okay. We won't kill each other, you didn't need to be such a drama queen over it." Romania muttered, getting a scowl from Egypt as a result, but he only grinned in return. "So, where are we going first?"
/ / / / /
Bosnia sat in a chair in the middle of a dark place, where the light was very dim, and the distance couldn't be seen, and the atmosphere felt grim, with his hands joined together, staring blankly at the figure before him, who was sitting in a chair like he was.
Bosnia had no clue how and when he got here or at what time he blacked out again, but in his foggy mind, he hardly cared about that. There's no need to worry about that, the gentle voice in Bosnia's mind whispered soothingly to him, and he obeyed without question. The fighting, his confusion about his big brother, none of that mattered right now. The only thing that's on his mind was the figure. It's what's supposed to be on his mind.
The figure was an identical copy of Bosnia. If he were his "normal" self, Bosnia would have gaped like a fish and had a large freak-out that involved loud swearing and throwing whatever object he could find at the smiling clone.
Heh.
"He" sat in his chair staring back at Bosnia with a vibrant smile plastered on his face, it made him look so kind… so real, and his eyes actually had life in them, they were full of it, unlike Bosnia's own always dull eyes. It was weird, it wasn't his eyes, but it felt... right? Was Bosnia was imagining it?
"Who the hell are you?" Bosnia finally asked.
The copy's smile broadened at the question, and he tilted his head. "Can't you tell?"
Bosnia felt his eyes narrow a bit at that response and shook his head. "Ne."
The look-alike laughed, a high, joyful laugh that seemed innocent enough, but for some reason it made the hairs on the back of Bosnia's neck stand up.
"I'm you!" Not-Bosnia sang in glee.
"Fine. If you must know, da, the you right here is a figment of your imagination. The person in front of you isn't real in the existential sense, but I'm there. Although…" Not-Bosnia grinned and winked, as if Bosnia was supposed to know something. "… you're just as real as I am."
"Okay… Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bosnia deadpanned.
Not-Bosnia shrugged, smile still plastered. "Can't tell."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Why can't you just tell me, you damn faker?! I'm lost enough as it is!" Bosnia snapped, having had enough of getting no answers. "I just want to know why I took a trip to Austria that I don't remember planning, why I suddenly black out and end up someplace else, why I tore a bunch of papers to shreds, why I attacked Hungary… Is that so much to fucking ask?!"
Panting, Bosnia looked up and saw that the copy looked mildly surprised, but then his face softened into an enigmatic smile.
"Are you sure I'm the faker here?"
Bosnia woke up with a start and swiftly sat up wide-eyed as soon as he woke up, panting, and rubbed his head. What... was that? What's it supposed to mean? That was... what? The fifth time he's had a weird dream or nightmare like that? Thank God the headache's gone for the most part at least.
Now... where the hell did he end up this time? He'd better not have hurt anyone again, hopefully.
He looked up drowsily, and he frowned. The world around him was blurry and muffled, but it was all slowly becoming clearer to him. And the sight that greeted him was none other than Turkey smiling down at him, and although not sure why, Bosnia felt very relieved at that fact.
"Sadik..." Bosnia muttered, rubbing his eyes and feeling a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. "Is... Is that you?"
Turkey gave him his typical mischievous smirk and ruffled his hair. "The one and only. You were starting to give me a bit of a scare there, Emir. I got really worried when I found ya there like that, and from what I heard, you're the one having least worse time!"
"Oh, did I?" Bosnia said sleepily, laughing nervously. "Sorry about that."
"No need to apologize, little brother." Turkey chirped, smirk becoming wider. "Trust me, if you've heard half the stuff that's happened with Malaysia and El Salvador
Then it hit him like a bus.
"W-Wait, where am I? How did I get here?!" Bosnia asked, looking around frantically. "Oh no, I didn't black out again, did I?"
"That was a really delayed reaction…" A voice who Bosnia recognized as Lithuania muttered.
That was when Bosnia realized another thing: he and Turkey weren't the only ones here (wherever it was). A blank-faced Lithuania was sitting next to a grinning, who stared at Bosnia with a weird glint in his eyes. There was a mop of black hair in the far back, driving, they were in some van? Denmark was on the floor hunched over a limp body that…
Bosnia gasped, it was Hong Kong with a large wound in his chest, his eyes were closed, and the corner of his mouth was stained with a bit of blood.
Bosnia's discomfort must have been pretty obvious, because Turkey raised an eyebrow and glanced back then looked back at him with a grin. "Oh, don't worry about Leon. Lucky for the kid, he died while Egypt was tearing him apart and before getting his heart torn out, rookie mistake. Haiti should be able to fix him up… I think… I'm… not sure."
With that reassurance and the grimace Turkey had, Bosnia felt himself pale. "…What?"
But then Turkey burst into cackles. "Hah! I'm just messing with ya, Emir! Once we get him to Haiti, he'll be good as new!"
Despite the scare, Bosnia found himself laughing along, albeit a little forced.
"That wasn't funny, Turkey." Lithuania deadpanned, face-palming with a groan. "Honestly, we're lucky that Egypt made a mistake, this is no joking matter. Also, Leon would kill you if he heard you poke fun at his death."
"I thought it was funny!" Bulgaria piped up.
"Only someone like you would…" Lithuania grumbled, and then narrowed his eyes.
As those two began to argue (really one-sidedly), Turkey snickered and then gently grabbed Bosnia's chin, who only felt baffled. "Now then…"
Turkey smirked, rather ominously, but despite that Bosnia didn't feel scared at all.
"Let's talk, shall we?"
/ / / / /
"Wow..." Seychelles said in awe.
Anubis let out a deafening roar filled with rage as he slashed his... Seychelles was pretty sure according to a book she once read that it was called a "khopesh" …yeah, a khopesh! That's what it was! Anubis slashed around his khopesh at South Africa and Nigeria, who were having a very hard time.
Both of them were wounded, with Nigeria being the one in the worst condition, but they were still putting up a pretty good fight. Seychelles just wished it wasn't so destructive, she had to run away from some half-demolished buildings and piles of rubble more than once. Still, the fight was… pretty awesome.
"The souls massacred here for your mere amusement will not go unavenged." Anubis growled.
…Huh?
Seychelles felt her eyes go ridiculously wide. "…You can talk?"
"Only when I wish to, and I did not want to frighten any of you." Anubis said gruffly. "That girl kept testing my patience however."
Boy, Saint Lucia would freak out if she ever found out about this.
"That's… pretty cool." Seychelles said, gaping.
"Interesting, so you really are the god himself…" South Africa remarked, smiling up at the creature. "I've always wanted to meet someone like you from another culture. Tell me, just how many souls went to the underworld when we came here?"
Anubis glared at him. "Enough for you to deserve the punishment of death."
"And then what?" Nigeria scoffed, helping South Africa up. "You're going to weigh our hearts, and then after finding us too evil to be reborn, you'll feed us to Ammit the Devourer?"
Anubis growled disdainfully. "I do not need my scales to see that both of you are truly wicked of heart."
"Oh please, tell us something we don't know!" South Africa snorted, smirking. "We've only heard the "you're pure evil" spiel a hundred thousand times."
"I… sense no fear in either of you." Anubis noted, sounding confused. "Why is that?"
"We don't fear death." South Africa gave the god a sardonic smile and licked the blood on his wrist before dark lighting crackled on his hands. "The only thing we're afraid of is that we'll die without accomplishing our goals. Therefore, technically, we don't fear you."
Anubis snarled. "You will learn to."
/ / / / /
Well, this felt very embarrassing.
Though Egypt had usual blank expression, his face was flushed red in embarrassment as he was forced to endure Hungary giving him a piggy back ride against his will. While he was impressed with her physical strength, as it appeared he was as light as a feather to her, but it didn't make his position any less awkward, at least for him. Hungary looked all too happy.
Since his injuries somewhat impeded him from being very active, Hungary offered to help him get to place to place by riding on her back. Egypt refused, but he quickly found out that it wasn't an offer, it was a statement. In a brief struggle, Hungary emerged victorious.
"Hungary…" Egypt began slowly, almost feeling too uncomfortable to speak.
"Yes, Egypt? You comfy back there?" Hungary asked kindly.
"Is this really necessary?" Egypt sweat-dropped.
"Of course!" Hungary chirped, much to Egypt's dismay. "You're too hurt to be doing such things like running like your life depends on it or dodging knives or bullets intent on murdering you in cold blood! You need rest, and you're going to get it!"
Egypt grunted when Hungary jumped. "I... don't see how I could rest in this position."
"Hungary, we are adults. This sort of thing is not appropriate and-"
"And you're hurt, and we need to find France." Hungary cut him off, snorting. "There's no time for that nonsense. This the best way I can think of to help you move around."
Egypt raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary, I think this is one of the worst ways to-"
"Don't worry, this isn't my first time with piggybacks!" Hungary waved her hand dismissively. "I used to give Italy piggybacks all the time when he was a cute little boy... and when we thought he was a girl, he loved them so much! Oh, and those times when I had to carry Roderich back to his house during the War of Austrian Succession. That jerk Prussia always horribly beat him up! Hmph! You should have seen their faces when I pummeled that bastard and lackies to the ground!"
"Hungary…" Egypt began carefully, and the European hummed in response. "You must know that-"
Egypt never got to say the rest of that sentence because the conversation ended when Hungary bumped hard into something, and a high-pitched squeak was heard along with Hungary's yelp. Egypt nearly fell off and held on tightly to Hungary (Why?!).
Then something tumbled down a couple of steps, with that something being a young girl, likely ten or eleven, who was currently face down on the floor after crashing into Hungary and hitting her head on a step.
Oh dear.
"Great job, hag." Romania sneered, holding his top hat, but wasn't amused. "You gave a little girl a concussion."
Hungary's face reddened, and she furiously scowled at her rival. "I did NOT, you stupid cosplayer! Oh no, I… I'm so sorry, miss!"
The unknown girl groaned softly as she struggled to stand up and rubbed her head. Egypt got down from Hungary and the two of them went to the girl to help her up. What was a girl doing in France's house?
"Are you okay? I swear, I didn't see you walk in front of me, and-" Hungary abruptly stopped, and Egypt could see why.
The girl bore a striking resemblance to Lithuania, almost looking like a small version of him.
The young Lithuania female look-like rubbed her head, the poor thing looking a bit dizzy, as Egypt and Hungary helped her up. The girl stumbled a bit and she blinked several times when she looked up at them. Eventually she regained her senses, but when she did her eyes went wide with horror and she pushed Egypt away.
"N-No, stay away from me!" The girl shouted in fear, backing away.
Surprised but still concerned, Hungary crouched down and offered a warm smile. "D-Don't be scared, young lady, please believe me when I say that I didn't mean to hurt you. Calm down and we can help you-"
"I-I d-d-don't need your help!" The upset girl stammered, in a failed attempt to sound brave, trembling and on the verge of tears. "You… You people don't know a thing! You don't get that you're ruining everything the New World Order worked so hard for! You're the ones who's making all this so hard! How could you want the world to stay horrible?"
Egypt was left stunned by this. The girl sniffed and shook her head, beginning to take some steps back before giving them a hurt look and running away to the door. She opened it, sniffed again and slammed it shut, leaving behind a deafening silence.
"So… does anyone what was that about?" Romania asked, just as lost as they were. "And was it just me, or did that kid look a lot like Lithuania? Seriously, she reminded me way too much from when Lithuania was little."
"I thought I was the only one…" Hungary said with a frown. "And how did she know about…?"
Egypt remained staring in the direction where the girl left, but then shook his head. "No. There's no time to dwell on it, we need to find France."
/ / / / /
France coughed and held his stomach in pain from where Cameroon punched him. Dear Lord, describing the boy as "strong" would be a tremendous understatement! France could very much feel the anger in that punch, he was amazed that none of his bones felt broken. Well, at least he's still got it…
"Oh, come on, Francis…" He heard Haiti slur his human name mockingly, and soon enough France felt himself get pulled up by the collar of his shirt. "Don't tell me that that was enough bring the nation of love to his knees!"
The other three chuckled in amusement.
"Cameroon wasn't even using a quarter of his strength, just how pathetic are you?" Morocco chuckled in glee alongside a smirking Cameroon. "Oh, wait. That was a rhetorical question, don't you think?"
More laughter came.
"What…" France coughed, painfully looking at one of his regrets. "What are you going to do with me?"
Haiti snorted and began searching for something in his pockets. "You'll see."
It was a doll of France himself. It about the size of his own hand, it wore clothes identical to the ones he was wearing, the hair was the same, and the only differences were that the eyes were buttons and that it had no mouth.
To say he was absolutely horrified would be an understatement.
"I played with dolls of you all the time when I was a little boy, remember? It was one of the few luxuries you let me have…" Haiti remarked in a tone of nostalgia as he held up the doll with his two hands, then he sneered. "No doubt due to your narcissism. My, I even impressed myself with how many ways I came up with to destroy them."
That cut deep. More than it intended. A memory resurfaced in France's mind from the early years of Haiti's life as a colony, the poor boy, only half-dressed with cheap clothing, looked flat-out miserable and spending days crying. France remembered the day when he first saw Haiti with a rather disfigured doll of himself, and he foolishly took it that he was growing on the little boy and will be more willing to proudly serve him.
What a fool France was.
Haiti must have noticed his hurt, because he smirked. "Ooh, did that sting? You might want to get used to it. But Francis, you should know that despite what I said, I always cherished these dolls of you. Do you want to know why?"
Knowing that he won't like the answer, he braced himself and frowned. "Why?"
"Because I knew that one day I'll be using it to give you hell." Haiti's smirk became feral, and he raised a hand. "Like now."
"What?" France demanded just as Haiti chanted a few words. "Hennrick, what-"
Then suddenly his voice died out, all of sudden he couldn't speak. No, it wasn't just that. France couldn't move. He was frozen. Why couldn't he-
"It's such a shame that we won't be able to hear you scream…" Morocco lamented with a sad smile before it morphed into something much sinister. "But then again, it'll help to add to your feelings of helplessness."
"Pin him by that wall." Haiti suggested to Cameroon, an ominous glint in his eyes. "It'll be easier for you and Morocco that way."
True to that first statement, Cameroon pulled France away rather roughly by the back of his shirt, and he would have let out a grunt if it weren't for his immobility. The strong nation shoved him against a wall and lifted him up by a few centimeters, with Haiti chanting another few words, and the African let France go, leaving him suspended against the wall.
"We're going first." Morocco purred and smirked as he beckoned Cameroon toward him, the two of them sharing a hungry gaze directed at France.
South Vietnam seemed to cringe a little. "Oh joy…"
If he could, France would gulp from how nervous and afraid he was feeling. He already knew that whatever his former colonies had planned, it'll be much worse than what France was imagining. All he could do was endure it, it was literally the only thing he could do in this state. He's to blame for this situation, he's responsible for their anger.
Morocco took a knife and his expression became very feral as he stepped toward France, to the point where he was practically trembling with excitement.
All this was because of France's own greed.
Morocco chuckled in delight and then promptly dug the knife into France's midsection.
Pain exploded in that area where Morocco cruelly twisted knife around to give him even more agony. France immediately wanted to scream from the how horrible the pain felt, but he couldn't get his voice out, no sound came from his mouth. He heard Morocco gleefully laugh, a high, loud, cold sound that didn't fit the man, no doubt at the twisted sight of France literally suffering in silence.
France desperately wanted to say something, either scream in sheer agony or tearfully apologize to his former colonies, but Haiti seemed to be way too happy with how he's hurting to even consider for a even second letting France go.
"How does it feel? To suffer in complete and utter silence, completely unable to say a word?" Haiti asked coldly, cocking his head to the side while hugging the doll to his chest. "
Morocco seemed to be now carving France's abdomen open, albeit slowly, cutting some organs along the way, and humming a pleasant song to himself as he did so. The pain still hasn't decreased in the slightest, Morocco made sure of that. France could see Morocco's expression becoming more and more deranged and hungry by the minute.
Cameroon was in a similar situation, as he stood silent as he always was, but he kept an unnerving stare at France's carved abdomen, and he appeared desperate.
Morocco continued carving France's midsection, and the latter screamed and screamed in his mind until Morocco stopped.
"Ah…" Morocco said happily, licking his lips and grinning. "That should large enough. Come, Roshaun, it's time to indulge ourselves with the pleasures of the sweet flesh of man yet again."
Cameroon nodded and walked to Morocco's side, where he regarded France with cold apathy. Cameroon blinked and then stared down at the large gaping wound on France's abdomen with an emotionless expression. After a few seconds of deafening silence, Cameroon flashed a feral grin and one of his hands lunged and went into the wound
Again, France tried in vain to scream. Again, France felt excruciating pain, only this time, if it was even possible, it felt worse. Cameroon's hand ruthlessly went through France's organs, searching for something and not caring for any collateral, or more likely he's doing it on purpose. France could feel his organs getting scrambled and pushed aside.
Then Cameroon came to a stop…
And then he swiftly pulled out an organ, France's liver.
The pain that followed was unbearable, and France wished for nothing more than to die or at least pass out. He watched helplessly and in pure disgust as Cameroon and Morocco eyed the organ with hungry eyes and identical mad grins. They looked at each other and after Cameroon nodded eagerly, Morocco brandished his knife again and went to cut the liver in the former's hand in half.
It was disgusting. France wanted to vomit. How could they take pleasure from such an atrocious act? How could they eat their own kind? The feeling of nausea intensified when after the liver was divided equally between them, Morocco and Cameroon proceeded to eat their respective halves. Morocco chewed, savored it and swallowed it before letting a sigh of content and Cameroon gnawed and wolfed it down hungrily, the feral grin never leaving his face.
As for the other two nations present, Haiti licked his lips and grinned in delight at the repulsive display while South Vietnam refused to watch and had a frown on his face, appearing to feel queasy at the act.
Speaking of South Vietnam, the former nation's cold gaze went to France and his eyes narrowed as he made his way towards to his former colonizer.
"Alright, my turn." South Vietnam said darkly, his golden-honey eyes that were identical to his sister North's in everything except the anger and sheer bitterness in them, and he looked down at the gaping and bleeding wound. "Let's see… Using my stick might prove to be too fatal, so…"
South Vietnam threw his punji stick to the side and cracked his knuckles before doing what Cameroon did and dug his hand into France's wound.
Unlike Cameroon, South Vietnam intended to damage his organs. Never in France's life had he felt so violated, so brutalized and tortured in horrendous ways such as this. France's mind kept screaming "No more!" over and over again in foolish hopes that his former colonies will stop tormenting him, but he knew in his heart that they cannot be stopped.
"You feel how the pain is excruciating and unbearable? How all your sorrow and regrets well up at the realization of your mistakes make it even more hellish?" South Vietnam whispered coldly, staring at him bitterly. "I'm going to make sure Lien feels even worse than all that."
France wished he could go to North Vietnam's defense, he really did. Whether South Vietnam believed it or not, his sister spent every day grieving and drowning in remorse. Why
"Ah, Chinh, wait!" Morocco called out to South Vietnam, causing the latter to stop and retract his hand, and he looked at the grinning nation. "We need to leave his insides as undamaged as possible to save the best for last. If we break him too much now, his suffering won't be so prolonged, not to mention it'll take all the fun out of it when we kill him."
South Vietnam raised an eyebrow before realization dawned on him and he nodded. "Oh right, of course. Do you still have it with-?"
"Him, South Vietnam."
South Vietnam sighed. "Fine, do you still have him with you?"
"I do." Morocco smiled, and he reached into one of his sleeves. "Come on, little one. It's time to play…"
Morocco slowly retracted his hand to reveal a small garden snake slithering on his wrist. He smiled and chuckled as the snake tickled his cheek with it's tongue.
"Do you like him? I found this precious little creature in the gardens. Adorable, isn't he?" Morocco cooed at the small reptile coiling around his fingers. "He's still young, and, ah, don't worry, he's non-venomous."
That barely did anything to reassure France.
"The poor thing was sliding in the grass, alone, with no friends or family, which is why I'd like you two to get to know each other." Morocco said softly, smiling and gently petting the snake's tiny head. "I think you two will prove to be… inseparable."
Morocco strutted again towards France with a malicious smirk and the snake still on his hand, and France watched in horror as Morocco leaned down then held out his hand with the snake… and stuck it in the open torso.
France felt horrified as he felt the snake slither into him. The pain was as unbearable as it ever was, he could feel the snake uncaringly slide and writhe inside of him, confused about the place it was placed into and scrambled to explore his insides.
He managed to hear Haiti's loud, mocking laughter over the pain. "Wi, that should do it! It's perfect! That little snake will tear him apart and eat him from the inside! But now I just need to add the finishing touch…"
France saw Haiti hold up the doll, and the Caribbean began to utter a few words with his hands working on the doll. Soon enough, France felt something happening with the wound on his torso… It was closing…
Did… Did Haiti heal him?
No, he realized miserably. The excruciating pain was still there, he still had no liver, and that accursed remained writhing inside of him, all Haiti did was close the wound. No… A terrible, mortifying realization dawned on France. Haiti just trapped the snake inside of him. Haiti just made sure that France couldn't escape from his torture.
Haiti then snapped his fingers, and then France promptly fell roughly to the ground. He could move again, and now that he could, and with the snake writhing in his organs, the first thing he did was scream. France writhed around and hugged his stomach while his former stood over him proudly with sadistic smirks.
"You will lie there suffering sheer agony as that snake slowly eats at your insides." Cameroon stated callously. "A perfect start for your torment."
"I'm sure the little one will find your innards just delightful." Morocco chuckled, and his sleeve hardly concealed his smirk. "You know, if the little dear ever becomes hungry."
"If you want that snake removed, you'll just have to be cut open again, and then go through the process of regenerating your organs." South Vietnam stated with his arms crossed, and he cracked a smile. "I remember China telling me that it's quite painful."
"Until then, have fun with your new friend." Haiti grinned slyly and had the arm of the France doll wave goodbye.
Then they vanished in a puff of purple smoke.
/ / / / /
The first of them to react to the sight of France writhing on the floor was Monaco, who cried out her brother's name in alarm.
Upon arrival via teleportation courtesy of Romania, who was kind enough to do it himself, so Egypt wouldn't use up his energy, they quickly found France's car, and a tired Algeria with her hair disheveled not far from it attempting to go in herself. Apparently, much to Egypt's surprise, she was also suffering from an attack on her capital. Only unfortunately for her, it was still happening.
They found Tunisia wandering the halls, looking worryingly pale, staring silently into space while Monaco kept trying to get his attention. He was brought back to reality when Algeria called out his name, who embraced him in relief, but refused to explain what happened.
All of them heard screaming, and they wasted no time in going to find the source. When they did, Egypt had half-expected to find a bloodbath in the room, along with France's mangled and cannibalized corpse. However, he found none of that…
Only France writhing on the floor in agony hugging his stomach, screaming bloody murder.
"France! Francis! Calm down, it's me! You're going to be alright." Monaco tried and tried to calm France down, but the latter kept writhing in agony. "Francis, please! Listen to me!"
Romania looked around and noticed some bloodstains on the floor near a wall. "What the hell happened here? Shouldn't Haiti or any of the other nations you mentioned be here?"
Egypt rubbed his head, his gaze on the suffering Frenchman. "Yes, but it appeared they satisfied themselves enough. As for how they got out, well, Haiti has the power to teleport like you and me, so he must have done that and vanished..."
"Along with the others, including Morocco." Algeria finished bitterly, and then she kicked a chair, startling Tunisia. "Shit!"
"Monaco… Mon petites…" France rasped out. "Are you alright?"
Algeria scoffed, but the worry was all too evident on her face. "We're the ones who should be worried! I'm fine, but you're obviously not!"
France ignored that and asked another question. "And… the others…?"
"The others are out of commission, but they should be alright. The only casualty was Poland." Egypt explained, before he remembered that she was also here.
"What?" Hungary asked raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean Feliks is the only casualty? The others are dead too."
"You mean you didn't tell her?!" Algeria hissed.
"There's a time and place for everything, but now wasn't the time to tell her." Egypt hissed back
Hungary looked back and forth.
"Tell me what?"
One more chapter to go before the arc ends. Please review!