Chapter Warnings: Foul language, blood, gore
"Just hold still, Germany, it will make this a lot easier..." Matthew said, fiddling with the chains to make sure they were properly secure. Ludwig had been stripped of his shirt, leaving his chest bare, and chained up between two metal poles, his arms being stretched out to the sides in an almost-painful manner.
"Nein, I will not hold still! Release me at once!"
"I'm afraid I can't really do that…" Canada said quietly with a small chuckle, satisfied that the chains were secure. "You see, I have to cure you. I have to make you remember me."
"If there's anyone around here who needs to be cured it's you, because-" Ludwig was cut off as Canada slapped a strip of duct tape over his mouth.
"Normally I like to hear the screams but you just don't really entertain me like the others do." Matthew said honestly with a small shrug. "I suggest you look up by the way."
Germany narrowed his eyes but looked up after a few seconds, to see a large pot being held up by two metal pipes about ten feet above him. The pipes connected into the wall. However, Matthew was reached towards a small lever that Ludwig had a feeling had to do with the rig above his head.
"Wondering what's in the bucket, eh?" Canada chuckled. "Well don't worry, you're just about to find out."
He smiled politely and pulled the lever.
Ludwig looked back up just as boiling tar was poured out of the pot, landing in a steady flow on the back of his neck. It hurt like almost nothing he'd ever experienced, searing away the flesh, making him feel as if he was going to catch aflame. The liquid itself was slow-flowing and gooey, but nevertheless it began to creep down his back, causing him to scream out against the tape over his mouth as best he could. It was as if fire was slowly creeping down his spine, ripping off his skin layer by gruesome layer. He could feel it in his muscles, against his bones; the tar was becoming part of him and if his mouth hadn't been taped shut, he would have puked.
"Soooo that's what's in the bucket!" Canada beamed happily as blood trickled down Ludwig's sides, mixing with the tar and staining it red. The scent of scorched flesh settled in the room and Ludwig was panting heavily, barely holding onto consciousness, eyes squeezed shut tight in pain. Matthew raised an eyebrow as he saw Ludwig's head start to lull forward. "It's okay. You can sleep if you really want, I know you must be tired with all the boiling tar still pouring down your back… But just remember, I'm Canada."
China sat curled up in his cage, his head rested on his knees and his eyes squeezed shut tight. He was trying to sleep. However, he knew rest wouldn't come. His stomach felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside out. He hadn't eaten in… most likely days, but there were no windows in the room he was suspended in. He had no idea how long he'd been trapped there. It felt like centuries. He was slowly being reduced to skin and bone. He'd vomited a few times earlier, and was finding it hard to ignore the stench.
His insides gave a particularly painful throb. It felt like a bomb had just detonated in his intestines, as if they were being shredded from the inside. He let out a shriek and clutched at his knees.
"China?! What's wrong?!" Said Ukraine in a panic.
"Stomach-" He managed out before screaming again, doubling over. He cracked his eyes open in time to see a drop of blood fall from his lip to the metal floor of the cage. He felt dizzy and like he might throw up again.
Canada stood in the shadows far below, watching the scene unfold. A small smirk was growing on his face. He'd been slipping a ghastly poison into the food he'd been giving to the small Chinese man. It would cause hemorrhaging, extreme pain and eventually death if left untreated.
"What's wrong with your stomach?!"
Canada glanced over at England. Arthur was watching the scene unfold blankly. Cold eyes slowly drifted back and forth between Ukraine and China, and Canada couldn't help but wonder if the man felt anything at all. Purgatory, like this, could destroy a man.
"Hurts-" China gasped out, tears appearing in the corners of his eyes. He let out another scream, his world spinning. Everything started to blur red, and he struggled to breathe, barely aware of his surroundings.
Matthew chuckled to himself. Ukraine's head jerked up at the sound and her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You! Canada!"
"That would be me," He said, grinning and walking to the center of the room. He gave her a little wave. "You remembered my name!"
"Of course I did! What did you do to China?!"
"I poisoned him." He replied simply. The small Chinese man let out another scream.
She froze, staring at him in shock. "You… poisoned him? With what?!"
He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. He's dying. And I'll let him do so, unless I get a nice little agreement from a dear sibling of his."
"What does that even mean?!"
"You won't ever find out…" He chuckled, turning around and heading out of the room. Just before he exited, he called back to her. "Tell China what I said when he wakes up! He'll be interested to know his long life is finally coming to an end. He might even thank me."
Italy slowly woke, his head throbbing. He frowned and opened his eyes. But… he didn't see anything. Maybe he hadn't opened them after all? No, no… they were definitely open. Maybe he was still asleep.
"Am I dreaming?" He asked, sitting up and tilting his head to the side. "My head hurts."
"You aren't dreaming, idiota, you're awake." Romano replied. Italy heard footsteps that must have been Romano walking over to him. He turned his head in his direction, trying to open his eyes wider but finding his vision still remained black no matter how wide he opened them. "What the hell are you doing?"
"My- my eyes!" He yelped, panicking. "I- I can't see! Are they open? Please tell me they're not open!"
"They're open, Feliciano! What do you mean you can't see?!"
"I can't see, brother, I can't see! It's dark everywhere! Romano, I'm scared!" He grabbed onto Lovino's arm and clung to it tightly. He buried his face in his brother's shirt and tried desperately to remember how this had happened. He remembered… Canada dragging him to a small room, and then the machine, and then the bright light and then… darkness.
"What are you talking about?!"
He sobbed, tears bursting from his eyes. "Canada blinded me!"
"What?! No, no, no, Feliciano, you can't be serious!"
"I'm serious brother! I'm blind! He made me blind, I'm blind!"
Romano took a slow, deep breath. He stood up, gritting his teeth and walked to the wall before punching it hard. He barely felt the pain in his hand and the blood dripping from his knuckles, too caught up in his rage. "How could he?! That bastard, blind my brother! I'll kill him!"
"Lovino! Stop shouting, you're scaring me!"
"Both of you stop shouting! I'm trying to sleep!" Belarus snapped from over in the corner.
"You heard what he did to Feliciano, right?!" Lovino snapped, glaring at her. "Did you hear?!"
"I heard."
"He's blind! My brother is fucking blind because of that bastard!" He yelled. "You can't possibly be telling me to stop yelling right now! What if this happened to your brother, huh?!"
Belarus narrowed her eyes and a dark aura seemed to appear around her. "I would destroy him."
"Exactly! So that's exactly what I'm going to do to that bastard, I'll kill him…" He punched the wall hard again, his teeth grit. Blood from his hand rubbing off on the wall and a few drops slowly dripped down the stone. "I'll kill him…"
"Russia!" Canada snapped from outside the door, taking a few steps back before throwing himself against it. "I demand you let me in right now!"
"No! Go away!" Ivan shouted back, tears streaming down his face from where he sat on the bed, tightly hugging his pillow. His eyes were wide and set on the door, anxious to see if his barricade could hold against the Canadian. He could see it shaking with every loud bang on the door, and then suddenly there was silence. Russia blinked and took deep breaths, wondering if maybe Canada had given up. But just as he really began to get hopeful, a crowbar was slipped through the door. There was a loud creaking noise, the sound of furniture scraping against the floor, and as a chair fell from the pile and hit the ground, Russia felt his hope crumble away, too.
Ever so slowly, Canada worked the door open, pushing the barricade further and further away from the wall, until finally he managed to slip into the room. His eyes narrowed the second he saw Ivan sitting there on the bed and his grip on the crowbar tightened.
"Why did you do that, Ivan…?" He asked in a low, quiet tone.
The Russian just shook his head frantically and bit his lip, looking around for anything he could use to defend himself. But there was nothing.
"You shouldn't have…" Canada growled and started to advance towards him. Ivan's breath caught in his throat and he stood up shakily, managing to take a few wobbly steps backwards before his legs gave out and his knees hit the floor. Canada walked towards him faster and swung the crowbar back, bringing it down hard against Ivan's face. It felt like he'd just been hit by a truck and Ivan's back smacked painfully against the floor. His face started bleeding and the vision in his left eye was fading out.
"I thought you understood, sunflower," Matthew said, stepping on Ivan's chest and swinging his crowbar down hard on his stomach. "You're all mine."
"N-no," Ivan managed before he took another harsh blow to his stomach.
"Yes," Matthew insisted, hitting him in the chest as hard as he could. Ivan let out a scream. "Oh, well, that's not good. If you're screaming I'm not hitting hard enough."
Ivan couldn't move as the blows kept raining down upon him, relentlessly. He could barely even breathe. He lost count how many times he'd been hit after about twenty and instead he just wallowed in misery, wishing it was all over. He tried to think of a happy memory, something that would keep him going, but he just couldn't. Anything anywhere near happiness felt worlds away and like it hadn't even happened at all.
"Please…" He breathed, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Speaking hurt terribly and something inside him felt broken. "Please stop…"
"What's that?" Matthew asked with a playful grin before whacking him with the crowbar again in the stomach. "I can't hear you, I think one of your lungs might've collapsed…"
"Please stop…" He begged again, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, you're asking me to stop?" Canada blinked. "Okay, but just one more."
Canada rested the cool metal against the side of Ivan's face and tapped his temple gently. He pulled back and did a few practice strokes, as if he was in a golf tournament, before he went for the real thing. He pulled his swing back as far as it would go and Russia squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He didn't want to see it coming. And then Matthew swung down, smashing the crowbar hard into the Russian's head. It felt as if Ivan's entire world collapse in on itself just there, and he was instantly knocked unconscious.
"Aw, my poor little darling's all broken… I wonder if he'll die…" Matthew pouted to himself before shrugging. "Oh well…" He chuckled and slipped back out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. "Sleep tight, my little sunflower…"