Ah the sweet smell of blood, how we all longed for it.

Hetalia: As the World Loses Sanity.

Chapter Two

SOMEWHERE AROUND LONDON, ENGLAND, 9:08 P.M.

"Willing to give up yet?" The German asked bloodlust clouding his crystal blue eyes as he cornered Arthur yet again.

"On the contraire, my dear friend, I will NEVER surrender to you." Arthur glared menacingly at the man, forcing his pain to subdue, if only for the moment. His leg hurt from being shot and he felt weak, he hadn't been able to stay in one place long enough to manage eating much. When he did find time to himself it was spent drinking his pains away, which was absolutely not good. If Arthur ever gave anyone advice to use during times like these, it's to not, under any circumstances, drink yourself silly when you've had practically nothing else to eat or drink in days. And to never, ever, attempt at functioning.

His head throbbed from his drinking habit leaving his headaches getting worse and worse. Sure, he'd sleep the hangovers off, if he could. There was just no way. Arthur swayed to the side just slightly before catching himself, he hated the dizziness that accompanied you when you haven't slept in days either.

"You look tired, I could help you take a nice permanent nap." Germany, also called Ludwig, said somewhat soothingly, if it had been an option, Arthur would've gladly taken it. But no way in hell would he lose to him, not now, not ever.

"I'm going to have to pass you up on that one, I have a life to live you know."

"Not for long, for I'm afraid you've hit you expiration date. You've lived long enough, right?" Ludwig cocked his head to the side.

Woah, woah, wait a minute, was that git calling him OLD? He was most certainly not old.

"Excuse me, but what is your place to tell me when I'm going to die might I ask?" Arthur retaliated.

"I am the one with the gun, England."

"You think I haven't been shot before? Are you mistaking me for a young girl? I'm not afraid of you, or your little gun." Arthur stated straightening himself attempting to look prideful, but the dullness in his eyes from lack of numerous life necessities was detracting from it.

"Oh? Then this shouldn't bother you." Ludwig said, effortlessly shooting the Englishman's other leg.

Arthur took a deep breath. That hurt like nobody would believe. Arthur struggled to even stand, but somehow managed. He now had two legs with bullet wounds. Great.

"Nice shot." Arthur said trying not to make any noise that it had hurt him, and being successful, that is until the German man shot him in the stomach. Without even a second thought. It hurt like hell, you know what, hell probably hurt less than the pain Arthur was currently experiencing.

"How was that one?" Ludwig asked, his ice blue eyes cold and unwavering.

"Perfect." Arthur lied spitting up blood, he clutched his stomach like he would die if he let go, which he probably would.

"Would you like another?" Without even waiting for a response the German cocked his gun and shot the island-nation's shoulder. It would be connected to the arm that was holding him together wouldn't it?

Arthur shot Ludwig his very own death glare. The very same glare that made Francis back off when he wasn't in the mood, the one that always had both Alfred and Mathieu shaking and dreading over when they had done something wrong. Spitting up more blood, Arthur rose his previously bandaged arm, the arm that was not shot, and flipped Ludwig off. The German's face twisted into a combination of anger and a murderous, pleased look that showed he was happy for himself. What was wrong with this man?

"Look at yourself. You're really making this easy, aren't you, Angleterre. Is that what Frenchie calls you?" Ludwig asked butchering the pronunciation of his French name.

"So what if it is?"

"So it is, well let me just say that your name in French is very… feminine, it suits you. You disgrace your own queen, how do you feel about that? Imagine if those brothers of yours could see you now."

"They'd help me. Not hurt me." Arthur said spewing more blood.

"Right, so where are they now? They know you're being attacked, and yet where are they? Obviously not here." Ludwig added, content.

It was true, everyone knew the German army was on full force attacking England, not even the whole United Kingdom, just England. Yet nobody was there to help.

"I can handle myself." Arthur lied.

"Uh huh, so you normally don't eat or sleep, and drink yourself dumb every night, all by yourself? It's amazing your little husband isn't here getting whooped for you." Ludwig pressed on. He not only wanted to rip him apart physically, but mentally as well.

"He's… not my husband, for one. And he obviously has some other things of his own to deal with." Arthur spat up more blood and a look of sadness swept over his face.

"Okay, so you're now realizing that nobody likes you?" Germany continued antagonizing the wounded and slightly depressed Englishman.

"I- … No. You're a wanker. Why are you here? What do you want with me?" Arthur countered the German.

"Let's just say, payback." Ludwig responded after several moments of looking the barely standing, blood spewing, struggling to breathe Brit in front of him.

"Payback, that's great. I hate you."

Ludwig stepped toward the Englishman and looked down at him.

"Do you." He stated. That's right, not questioned, stated.

"I do. Very much. Now get out of my face." Arthur said, glaring at him. If you could really kill someone with a single look, then that German would be dead and Arthur would be done with him, but no. Sadly, life never works in Arthur's favor.

"How about no." Ludwig said stepping even closer.

"I'm telling you, I WILL curse you." Arthur threatened.

"You mean that sissy magic that only does… nothing?

"You'll be sorry…"

"Am I supposed to be scared? Because you're failing miserably." Ludwig said.

"Bollocks…" Arthur barely breathed.

"What? Realize your plan backfired?"

"No. My stomach just hurts a tad, but I'm alright." Arthur attempted to straighten his posture, but as soon as he leaned up pain shot into his lower abdomen causing him to double back down. Taking a deep breath, he hoped Ludwig hadn't seen the wince that appeared on his face for a split second, on second thought, he hoped Ludwig hadn't seen that entire sequence. No such luck.

"Hm, in pain are we?" Ludwig asked, that sinister look of twisted pleasure adorning his face once more.

"Sod off." Arthur retaliated as he hacked up more blood, if he kept that up he'd die of blood loss from both his mouth and his wounds, he needed medical help, but he couldn't fight the German off, or run at all.

Even if I did manage to escape I wouldn't get too far anyway being that I have two injured legs, sure an adrenaline rush would subside my pain for a short while but not for a long enough time to get to the nearest hospital which happens to be 375 feet due east from my exact point. Bloody hell why did I come here? I should've taken the left, there wasn't a dead end! I should have planned this better! Arthur thought as he mentally cursed at himself for not thinking this through.

"Sorry, the answer is still no." Ludwig said breaking the Brit's concentration.

"Get away from me." Arthur said curtly

"And if I don't?"

"Well, you'll 'ave me to deal with, Germany." said a thickly French accented man that could only be Francis Bonnefoy.

Ludwig turned on his heel just so that Francis got a glimpse of Arthur. He instantly felt bad that he had waited this long to come.

"I knew I smelled a man in need of a shower." Ludwig taunted.

"For your information, I 'ave showered today." Francis added.

"Right. So let me guess, after you did all of that nothing that you do you decided to come save your girlfriend?" Ludwig now just thought this would be fun. A two birds, one shotgun bullet kind of deal, right?

"Girlfriend? I am NOT his-" Arthur was cut off by Ludwig single-handedly cocked his gun and shot him without even a glance for aim.

Arthur winced and tears welled in the corners of his eyes, he couldn't stand any longer, he was just shot in the ankle and he collapsed, landing on his hands and knees.

"Shut up." Ludwig commanded, cocking his gun yet again just in case the Englishman needed even more of an incentive to keep his mouth shut. Once he heard the almost silent sound of the Brit landing on the stone pathway he was satisfied, if he hadn't killed him, he'd at least immobilized him fully.

"Angleterre! Are you alright?" Francis shouted taking several brisk steps toward the smaller, broken looking man only to be stopped dead by Ludwig.

"You want to help him, ya?" Ludwig asked seeming more sympathetic than he had been.

"Oui." Francis stated defiantly.

"Then let me put him out of his misery."

"What? Never!" Francis exclaimed narrowing his eyes angrily at the German before him for thinking about doing that in the first place.

"Too bad, it doesn't really matter if you want it or not. I'm going to do it anyway. Maybe if you leave now I'll leave your pathetic country alone." Ludwig negotiated. He didn't know why he just wanted the Englishman dead above all else. It was a burning desire to have him dead by his own hand, and he wasn't about to let that wine-guzzling Frenchie stop him.

Save Angleterre, or save myself… what to do… Francis thought. He loved Arthur, but he didn't really want to die. Then again, he didn't want Arthur dead either…

"Go. Before I change my mind. Or you could stay and watch…" Ludwig trailed

Francis hesitated before deciding to stay. He knew his efforts would be futile anyway, if only those horrid brothers of Arthur's were there to help. Maybe things would be different. Francis really wanted to do something but he just knew he would end up getting them both killed. Ludwig was just too strong for him. Arthur was destined to die. Francis couldn't save him, all he could do was watch it happen.

Francis wished he was stronger, for times like these when he felt worthless.