Chapter Warnings: Blood, gore, foul language
"And how are you feeling today, Switzerland?" Canada said over the buzzing of flies. Switzerland didn't respond, just continued to stare at the same wall he'd been staring at for two days now. Above him flies had covered all of Liechtenstein's exposed, waxy flesh. Rats sat in the corners of the cell waiting to dive for any fallen scraps of meat.
"Are you going to eat something today, Switz?" Matthew asked, sliding a plate into the cell.
No response.
"Well, call me when you feel like talking," Canada frowned before heading down the hallway, leaving Switzerland to drown in his own mind.
Hungary awoke suddenly, her eyes flashing open but then quickly shutting again. It hurt to do that. In fact, it was agonizing to move anything at all. It was like her skin was made of ice, and to move it was to crack it, send breaks shattering in all directions through her nervous system and up piercing into her brain. It sparked memories, memories of what had happened the day before… through to hallway, in the kitchen inside the fridge and…
"Cuba," She whispered, prying her eyes open once again and wincing in the harsh light of the room.
"She's awake," Estonia said, and the others sat up quickly from their sleeping positions, looking at her as if they expected her to move. But she couldn't. It hurt too much.
"Are you alright?" Austria asked, voice full to the brim with concern.
"Not really," She said honestly, staring at the ceiling because she couldn't muster the courage to face the pain and turn her head sideways.
"She shouldn't be," Estonia said. "She was almost frozen to death. It seems like she was unconscious before Canada even took her out of whatever ice-cold place the Canadian put her."
"A freezer," she replied quietly.
"A what?"
"A freezer. He put me in a freezer." She hissed. "I wasn't the only thing in their either."
"What do you mean?" Austria asked.
"Cuba's…" She trailed off. "Cuba's head was… in there as well… just his head. I don't know where the rest of him is." Two tears traveled down her cheeks and Austria shuffled over as much as he could with the shackles on his ankles, and wiped the tears from her face with gentle hands.
"It's… okay, Hungary." He said, his eyes closed. He didn't know what to do. All he could do was help her recover from her near-death experience and tell her that everything would be alright.
"No, it's really not," She said, and more tears started to flow, painfully racking her body with sobs. The room was dead silent except for them. No one looked at each other, just focused their gazes on the floor. Most tried to pretend they were elsewhere. Some wished they weren't anywhere at all.
And Austria just sat there at her side, drying her tears and whispering, "It's okay… it's going to be okay."
"Tino, you okay?" Denmark asked, looking over at the man who was currently sitting up against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest.
"I'm fine," Finland replied. Denmark couldn't help but let his eyes stray to the smaller man's bandaged hand. He'd lost two fingers now, and the white cloth wrapped the wounds was stained with blood. His eyes were red, but one couldn't be sure whether it was from crying or sleeplessness.
"Are you sure?" Denmark asked.
"If he says he's fine, you shouldn't bother him," Iceland advised from where he stood beside Norway on the other side of the cell.
"Well he's obviously lying," Norway noted. "No one is fine in this situation."
There was a long silence until Finland finally said, "I'm just worried about Sweden."
"We all are," Denmark said.
"Yeah, but you don't understand," Finland snapped. Denmark jumped in surprise. The Finnish man was almost never mean or short-tempered. In fact, this was the first time he could remember seeing him like this… but he didn't blame him. "Its different."
"You love him." Norway said.
Finland nodded weakly, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to hold back tears.
"Hey," Denmark rested a hand on Finland's shoulder. "It's going to be okay. Okay?"
More nodding.
"We'll get out of here somehow," He said. "And Sweden will be fine, and so will we. And we'll all be together again."
"Ah!" Lithuania flinched away from the flame as he felt it licking at his side, charring and burning his flesh. The Canadian held the candle there for a few seconds, the brown-haired man screaming more with every passing moment until he finally took it away. "Please, stop!"
"I cant, I need to cure you," Canada said, holding the fire to a spot just under Lithuania's elbow. He was tied down shirtless to a table somewhere in the horrendous building and blindfolded, sudden burns coming out of nowhere and his sense of touch amplified by his lack of sight. Matthew held the candle there for longer than he had before, as Lithuania screamed and swore he could feel his flesh bubbling under the heat. He could definitely smell the burned skin.
"We've been at this for long enough, please, stop!" Lithuania pleaded, tears rolling down his cheeks. Canada pulled the candle back and sighed.
"I suppose we could stop now and continue this tomorrow." He said. "But what's my name, Lithuania?"
"Canada," He said between sobs.
"Good boy," Canada smiled, untying the other's man's bounds just too quickly re-handcuff him again. He pulled the blindfold off and Lithuania winced at the sudden light. "Alright, lets go."
Matthew pulled him by the handcuffs through the complicated maze of hallways, until they finally reached the cell he shared with Poland. He threw open the door and shoved Lithuania inside so roughly that he fell onto his wretchedly sore side. Lithuania let out a shriek as he hit the ground, and another wave of sobs wracked his body.
"Liet!" Poland gasped, darting to Lithuania's side. He saw the horrible damage that had been done to his body, the scorched, bloody flesh and the blackened skin where the flame had just brushed him. He threw himself towards Canada but crashed into the bars of the cell door instead, Matthew hastily locking it. Poland reached between them, trying desperately to grasp onto the Canadian, to do any sort of damage he could, but he couldn't quite reach. "What did you do to him?!"
"I'm just curing him," Matthew smiled warmly.
"You're torturing him!" Poland shouted. "That won't cure anyone! You're a fucking monster!"
"I'm so glad you think of me that way," Canada said as he turned to walk away.
"Don't you ever hurt Lithuania again!"
"No promises." And with that, the nightmarish blonde was gone.
Poland turned as he heard Lithuania trying to say something behind him. "Ah… Poland?"
"I'm here, Liet," Poland said, rushing over to his side. "You alright?"
"Not really," Lithuania said honestly.
"Its okay," Poland said, kissing Lithuania gently on the nose, one of the only places that wasn't near any hurt areas. "It'll be okay."
"Are you okay, Bela?" Italy asked, looking over at the girl with the platinum blonde hair.
"I'm fine." She hissed, clutching at her shoulder with her other hand. Canada had come in early and shot the Italian brothers with tranquilizers before stabbing a plastic knife into Belarus's shoulder and breaking it off so that the blade was still inside her arm. She couldn't even breathe properly without being in pain. "And don't call me that!"
"Are you sure?" Italy asked, worriedly. "Can I get you anything? Are you feeling okay? Are you warm enough, I can give you my jacket?"
"Stop being such a push-over, Feliciano," Romano scolded.
"But, Lovi," Italy whined.
"You're both obnoxious," Belarus rolled her eyes. "Putting up with you two is more painful than the plastic splinters in my shoulder! Shut up!"
"I hope Germany is okay," Italy said out of nowhere.
"I hate that potato bastard," Lovino grumbled.
"But you don't want him to be hurt, do you?"
"I honestly don't really care." Romano lied. Of course he didn't want Germany to be hurt, he didn't want anyone to be hurt. But he couldn't just admit that.
"Dont be like that," Feliciano pouted.
"I'll be however you wanna be, you dumb f-"
"Shut up!" Belarus shouted. They both looked at her. "Do you two not realize that everyone we know could be dead?"
The Italian brothers looked at each other as the reality of their situation sank in. She was right. They had no idea what had happened to the others, no way to find out who was alive, or if anyone else was alive at all. Or whether they themselves would still be alive the next day, the next hour, perhaps even the next few minutes. And they had no say in the matter, either, finding themselves completely at the mercy of the deranged lunatic that held them captive. If he chose to end their lives, there would be nothing they could do about it.