This story is rated M for a reason. As in, really violent bloody gory things happen, and they're starting in this chapter. So please if you're bothered by that... don't read this. PLEASE. Also, for those who carry onward, reviewing and following would be much appreciated :D
Chapter Warnings: Foul language, insanity, blood, gore, character death
Switzerland awoke from sleep on his stomach panting heavily, his skin coated in sweat and dirt. He sat up, finding himself in an almost pitch black room with three brick walls, the only light coming through the bars making up the fourth wall, far enough apart so he could have slipped his arm through if he wanted, but nothing else. He could not see anything more than five or so feet above him, so he had no way of knowing how tall the ceiling was. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and crawled towards the bars, looking out. The jail cell was in a long hallway full of other cells that he couldn't see into. It was dead silent.
How had he gotten here? He closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember, but the last memory he had was when he was in the World Conference Room, talking to Liechtenstein before the meeting…
"Hey!" He shouted. There was no response at first but after several seconds he began to hear the sound of shoes clicking against the floor. "Who the hell do you think you—America?"
"Canada," The blonde outside the door corrected, smiling coldly.
"Oh, right," Switzerland said. "Well, let me out."
"I can't do that," Canada laughed.
"What?! Why not?!" Switzerland said, pulling himself to his feet. Pain shot through his leg and he fell back to the dirty floor, clutching at his ankle.
"Careful, your ankle got twisted in the explosion." Canada chuckled. Switzerland glared up at him, remembering the polar bear that had coughed up blood onto the table and the explosion that had knocked him unconscious.
"How'd you do it?" He asked, glaring up at Matthew.
"I put a bomb inside Mr. Kumajiro," He said shrugging.
"He was your pet," Switzerland said in horror.
"Yes, and Liechtenstein was your sister," The Canadian said, looking off somewhere down the hallway. Switzerland leapt upwards, reaching through the bars and grabbing Canada's shirt collar, pulling him up against the hard metal. His head smacked against it with a loud bang, but he just smiled, reaching up to straighten his glasses.
"Where is she?"
Canada calmly replied, "She's right here,"
"Don't lie to me,"
"I'm not lying," Canada smiled. "If you let me go, I'll show you."
Switzerland hesitated before pushing the blonde away from him in disgust, watching as Matthew straightened his tie and walked over to the wall. He flicked a switch and a bright light came on in the cell, hurting Switzerland's eyes. Once they adjusted he blinked at Canada angrily.
"What the hell?" He growled.
"She's behind you," Canada shrugged, before wandering off down the hall. Switzerland narrowed his eyes in confusion, watching him go, before turning around. He had already looked, he was the only one in the-
Canada hadn't been lying. There, hanging from a frayed rope by her neck, was his little sister… or what was left of her. It seemed most of Liechtenstein had been destroyed in the explosion, both of her legs and an arm were missing, and the flesh that had previously covered the remaining limb had been completely ripped away. Her stomach was caved inwards as it seemed to be missing most of its internal organs except for the ones hanging out of the shredded flesh on her abdomen. The skin on her neck and a large portion of her face had been burned off, and the tissue that had been left behind was charred and black. Her left eyeball was barely still in her head and the side of her face that remained intact was a pale shade of purple.
After vomiting onto the floor, Switzerland limped towards his sister's mangled body, feebly reaching for her remaining, flesh-stripped hand. He curled his trembling fingers around her cold, lifeless ones and fell to the floor, screaming incoherently until his voice grew raw. When he finally couldn't yell any longer, tears came in waves of quiet sobbing, his body shuddering violently until at last he passed out from exhaustion.
"Poland!" Lithuania said, shaking Poland's arm frantically trying to wake him up. "Poland, wake up!"
"Wha…?" The blonde mumbled, eyes finally fluttering open as his tossed his hair out of his face dramatically. "Why are you waking me up, like, so early, Liet?"
"We're in a jail cell!" He replied, panicked.
Poland sat up and glanced around. "Oh, yeah, look at that. You know, if you're into this sort of thing, Liet, you totally could have just told me instead of-"
"This wasn't me, Poland!" Lithuania yelled. "I don't know where we are!"
Poland paled, if that's even possible. "Oh. Well that's disappointing."
"Poland, this is serious!"
"I know, I'm sorry," He laughed, somewhat nervously. "Yeah, that's me, totally serious. Okay. So. Where are we?"
"I already said I don't know," Lithuania sighed, eyes getting watery.
"Liet, are you okay?" Poland asked, placing a hand on Lithuania's shoulder.
"What do you think?" He replied, staring straight ahead and not meeting the blonde's gaze. Poland furrowed his brow before pulling the other man into an embrace.
"Its gonna be okay, Liet." He said, feeling Lithuania nod slightly. He pulled himself to his feet. "Alright, let's find out what's going on. HEY! BROSKY! IS ANYONE THERE?! YO!"
"You don't have to yell," Came a quiet voice.
"America?" Lithuania breathed, eyes narrowed.
"Every time…" He muttered. "No. I. Am. Canada."
"Whatevs, doesn't matter who you are, you need to let us out," Poland said.
"I have to cure you before I can let you go," Canada laughed.
"What?" Lithuania's eyes widen.
"You're mentally defective," Canada smiled. "I'm here to help you."
"You're insane," Poland noticed.
"I'm afraid that is incorrect." Matthew said. "But its okay. Most insane people do not actually know they are insane. Funny, isn't it?"
"Let us out!" Lithuania shouted, reaching through the bars and attempting to punch the Canadian in the face, but it seemed he was about a centimeter or so too far away for him to hit.
"Like I said, I have to treat you first," Canada beamed.
"Damn you," Lithuania growled.
"And how do you plan on curing us exactly?" Poland asked, studying his nails.
"All I have to do is make you remember me." Canada smiled. "And of course I've tried practically everything for that before… except pain. And since that's the only thing left, I guess that has to be the cure. I mean, it makes sense."
Poland didn't say anything as the Canadian turned to leave, just stood there staring at the spot he had been before while Lithuania shouted angrily down the hallway after him.
"He's going to torture us," The blonde said, his eyes wide. Lithuania finally stopped yelling, and rested his head up against the bars.
"Yeah," He murmured.
"Liet, are we gonna die?"
Lithuania turned to him. "No."
"Are you sure?" Poland blinked.
"Yeah," Lithuania nodded. "I'm sure."
"When I see that pancake-loving bastard again I will rip out his damn throat with my own teeth if I have to, I hate him so much for this, I will kill him!" Romano shouted, pacing back and forth at the base of the stairs.
"I'm too young to die, I can't die! I'm still just a virgin!" Italy wailed, sobbing on the floor behind him.
"Shut up!" Belarus hissed, from where she sat on the floor a little ways away. The three of them were locked in what appeared to be a basement somewhere. The dark room was lit by several long, white lights in the ceiling. There were four metal cots against the wall, but there was nothing else in the room. No windows, and only one door, the locked steel one at the top of the stairs that Canada had appeared and disappeared through moments before. "Yelling and crying won't solve anything!"
"Then what will?" Romano demanded, glaring at her.
"I-I don't know!" She said. "Why is it my job to think of something?!"
"It was your idea to stop yelling, blondey,"
"Please don't be mean," Italy said, tugging on Romano's shirt sleeve.
There was a long moment of unbroken silence. It was dead quiet there, no sound of birds chirping or dripping water or scurrying rodents or the shouts of the countries upstairs. It stuck in the thoughts of the three of time, like a splinter in their minds, until Belarus finally murmured, "We need to get out of here."