A/N: Goldenstar-Polska: Alright. Finally, all you Poland fans, this is Poland's perspective. Heh heh, we're getting closer to the plot. Yeaaaah~

Warnings: Violence.

Disclaimer: TheSouthViet and I don't own Hetalia.

The blonde slumped forward, and fell to the ground. His face was in tears, his wounds bleeding heavily. "W-w-why are you doing this to me?" he stuttered. "What did I ever do to you?"

Another figure loomed over the blonde, his face dark with hatred. "Too many things…"

The one on the ground snorted. "You never let go of the past, do you? You started most of our fights, if I can clearly remember." The man winced. His wounds felt like they were on fire. "It was about to finally kick you out of my house."

The taller man put his foot threateningly on the blonde's chest. "Poland, surrender now. Join the Soviet Union. It'll put you out of your misery." The man snarled.

The Pole tried to get up, but the man pushed him down. "Boże Drogi, Germany. Do you, like, honestly think I'll surrender that easily?" Germany pressed down harder.

"Mein Gott, Poland, you're so persistent." Germany said in a mocking tone. "I guess nothing changed since the last time. Surrender. Now."

"Never." The longhaired blonde hissed. "I won't…" Poland gasped, the force of the German's foot knocked the winds out of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear what you said. What did you say?" the tall blonde asked. He seemed to be enjoying himself seeing his enemy like this.

"I…won't… surrender…" Poland was struggling to keep to his senses. He knew it. He knew, that his life would end here. He knew that in the end, he would fall to Germany.

Suddenly, the Pole's life flashed before his eyes. All the times with Lithuania. Sweet Lithuania… Remembering how he would freak out about anything that Poland would do…

However, there was one scene stood out in particular.

The Pole saw himself crouched against the floor, not moving. Germany was leaning over, a foot on Poland's back. Am I…dead? Poland thought to himself. Did I finally disappear, and Germany doesn't know it yet? He gazed at the scene. He noticed some differences, though. Poland's house was painted differently. It was… darker. I remember painting it darker so that my house wouldn't show off during World War…II.

"Surrender now, Poland." Germany's voice boomed. You could see that he looked more energetic and younger.

"Never." Choked the Poland on the ground. All of a sudden, the on-looking Poland noticed a silhouette creeping up on the Poland. He looks awfully familiar… The Pole pondered. Where have I seen a lead-pipe befo…

Poland froze, getting butterflies in his stomach. He knew this scene now. "POLAND, LOOK OUT!" the Pole cried out, but his voice seemed to be muted.

The Poland on the ground was completely unaware what was happening. The man raised his lead-pipe, and…

Suddenly, immense pain struck Poland, and snapped his mind to reality. He didn't know what happened, until he looked up. He realized the German hit him in the torso with the butt of his gun. There was a lot of crimson blood, and Poland guessed it was none other than his own. Why you… Poland struggled to get up, but just fell back down. Germany let out a blood-curling laugh.

"Yes, Poland. Struggle all you want, this is one fight that you won't wriggle out of. I'm sure th…"

Poland was loosing conscience, and Germany's voice started to get muffled. Finally, the Pole gave up struggling, went limp, and let the darkness take over him.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~

"You finally got him."

"Yes, I did."

"The…erm… Allies… do they know of this yet?"

"Surely, if they did know, they would of probably attacked one of us by now."

"Da, but we better be careful. We do not know of their motive yet."

"Then what shall we do with him?"

"Leave him in Vietnam's hands."

"Which one, North or South?"

"North, of course. South seems a bit too…soft."

"Alright."

~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Rustle. Rustle rustle. First noise that the blonde noticed when he awoke. His head was pounding, as if someone shot him (Poland quickly confirmed that it was only his head). The Pole's hair was all in his face, and he could make out the blood stained in his yellow-ish hair. He was about to put his hair behind his ear, but he only found his hands where chained above his head, to the wall, and he was hanging. Hanging. I thought this only happens in movies… Poland thought.

As Poland was slowly coming back to his senses, he mentally took notes. First point: He was all bloody (he silently cursed at Germany). Next, he was in a prison. But not a normal one. A foreign one. He noticed odd print on the wall. It certainly wasn't normal letters. Poland squinted, and tried to get a better view of the characters. It looks Japanese, or some sort of Asian print. He established. There were prison bars, but they seemed ancient.

"Am I in somebody's house…?" Poland thought out loud.

"Hmmm… I wonder." A high-pitched voice responded. The voice seemed to be coming from the left of him.

"Wha…?" Poland was taken aback. "Who are you?"

"I'm the wonderful…" the voice started but stopped. "…You know what? If you're so eager to know who I am, why don't you introduce yourself first?"

"Gladly." Poland snorted. "I'm…" and he too, stopped. I can't tell a stranger that who I am. Poland thought. It might put me into more trouble. He thought for a little while. How do I tell…

"What, did you forget your name?" The voice broke the Pole's train-of-thought. "I wouldn't be surprised." The voice continued. "If you had amnesia here, it's probably the horrible conditions that they're keeping us in."

Aha! So this person is a prisoner! The blonde confirmed. "My name is Feliks Łukasiewicz." Poland carefully said. Better be safe than sorry.

"I think I heard that name before… are you maybe a country?" the voice asked.

Poland decided to ignore the question. "What's your name? I asked you first, and I, like, need an answer."

"Fine." The voice huffed. "I'm Peter Kirkland."

"YOU'RE RELATED TO ENGLAND!" Poland shouted in surprise.

Suddenly, the Pole heard footsteps. Automatically, he slumped, as if he never woke up.

"I'm telling you, ow, aru." A woman said. Oh wait… that's not a girl. Poland thought. Isn't that… China?

"Pfft." Another voice said, but this time, Poland was sure was female. It kind of sounds like Vietnam… "You're hearing things at your age."

"North!" China exclaimed. "Have some respect for me, aru." Could this be South's sister…?

"Whatever." North replied. "See? They're all still unconscious."

The news made Poland relieved, but nervous. Whoever was the 'relative' of England had enough wits to pretend to be knocked, but Poland noticed something else. North said 'They're all knocked out', not 'both knocked out.' Could there be more prisoners…? He pondered.

"Heh heh, you know you can't fool me, aru." The Pole imagined the Chinese man smirking. "It's so cute how you try to resist me."

The footsteps faded, and as soon as Poland heard that China and Vietnam were gone, Peter spoke up.

"You know England?" he asked in a quizzical tone. "How? Are you a country?"

Poland sighed. He was caught red-handed. "Yes. I am a country. 'Rzeczpolita Polska', or 'Republic of Poland', as you would call it."

"Great!" Peter perked up. "I can tell you who I am now! I'm the great country Sealand!" Poland then heard a rustle of chains, and a groan. "Maybe this is what Latvia and Lithuania were talking about being captured by another country…"

The longhaired blonde practically jumped at the mention of the names. "You, like, met them before?"

"Yep!" Sealand chirped. "Latvia and I, are best friends, and Lithuania always tells me scary stuff at times, like how other countries might invade me and my precious vital regions…"

"Sounds exactly like Liet." The Pole chuckled.

"So…" The micro-nation said. "What to do now?"

Poland switched his brain to a more serious state-of-mind. "Sealand, how are you, like, chained up?"

"Um…" the boy pondered. "Well, I'm hanging from a wall, with my hands chained up above my head. It's awfully hard to breathe."

"Cholera. I'm chained up the same way." Poland replied. "How old are you?"

"In human years, fourteen." Sealand replied.

"This must be, like, hard for you, then." Poland said. He heard Sealand sigh. Wait…what if…? He looked up, and saw that his guess was correct. The chains holding him had a lock. It looked pretty rusty, with its gray paint already chipping off, and it looked like it hadn't been used for decades. Poland chuckled to himself. Old locks are always the easiest to pick. Fortunately for the Pole, he decided to wear clips in his hair that day. I've done this a million times. He told himself. Now, this is easy. Cautiously, he unclipped the lowest hairclip with his mouth. Being careful not to let it slip, he placed his feet on the wall behind him, and gently tried to walk of the wall, pulling himself up with is hands. I have to get up to the lock, to pick it with my hair clip. It was hard on his arms and legs. I'm…half…way…there… With a final thrust, the blonde pulled himself up. Dobrze! He thought. Struggling to keep himself up, he started picking the lock.

"Poland, you're awfully quiet, and I'm bored." Sealand's pouty voice bounced off the jail walls.

The Pole finally heard a click. Yes! He thought gleefully. They don't call me a Phoenix for nothing. He could already feel the chains loosening up. The nudged the now opened lock with his nose, and it fell to the ground with a loud clatter. The chains were threateningly loose. At that moment, Poland thought that his plan wasn't a good idea.

With a thud, he landed on the cold stone. "Maybe I should of thought this through." Poland stifled a groan.

"What? What happened?" Sealand demanded.

Poland laughed meekly. "I got myself out."

Boże Drogi (Polish) - Dear God/ My God

Mein Gott(German) - My God

Da(For you to find out) – Yes

Cholera (Polish) – Darn

Dobrze (Polish) – Good

Goldenstar-Polska: I've seen hits on this story, but hardly any reviews? –pouts- Please rate and review. My inspiration runs on reviews, and I'm not getting any. A simple 'Awesome.' Or 'Ew I hate it' would suffice. Thanks~!