Yay late night update. It's 11 :30 PM here. Meh...
In the Hetalian Village...
No emotions flittered across Switzerland's face. His green eyes opened up to the pits of hell as he watched the unbelievably horrifying carnage on the flatscreen, high tech T.V in the village square, which looked much the same as it had on Reaping day, when Leichtenstein had been selected to do this whole thing. He couldn't help but wish that he was a female. He could've and would have volunteered for his little sister...
But switzerland had a penis, so he couldn't do that. However, he should've volunteered to go as one of the male tributes, that way he could have protected Leichtenstein in the arena, though she'd been off to a good start, killing two nations. Still, if he was there, she wouldn't have been captured by Belarus and Russia, then slowly tortured to death...
It was just too much. As Switzerland could feel himselft blazing from within, he turned on his heal and promptly left the village square. Several Peacekeepers scowled at him, everyone was supposed to stay and watch the Hunger Games, after all. Swizterlland's emerald eyes were so venomous that even the armed Peacekeepers turned away from him. He didn't have a particular destination in mind. He could perhaps go to the small, box like house that he'd lived in with Leichtenstein. Or to the famed pasta restuarant that was run by grouchy Romano now that his brother was dead, stabbed in the stomach, and buried six feet underground in the nearby cemetary. Where Leichtenstein would be soon.
Or Switzerland could get revenge.
More or less, he knew each Hetalian family was assigned a house. Romano, Italy, France, and Spain had all lived together, and Netherlands and Belgium and so forth. Russia would've preferred to live alone, but he didn't. He lived with Belarus and Ukraine and a couple others...maybe they were home. He passed his own home but had no desire to go in, instead continueing on his path. He passed more houses, Poland's, then Greece's further down. Yes, he was getting closer. The Nation's houses had been built in slight geographical correspondance to their previous real world locations, so Germany's house was just to the left of Poland's.
The large stone house was pure grey, and looked like it would always be cold inside no matter how furiously the sun blazed overhead. No suprises there. Switzerland's breathing became harder and harder as he trudged up the stone walkway and came to the white front door. Taking a deep breath, his hand grasped the doorknob, and he pulled so hard his entire body shook. It worked. The door yanked itself open. Switzerland walked inside. His hunch about the tempature was correct, it was surely colder here than outside or anywhere else he'd been.
Feet clonking against the stone floors, Switzerland headed to the nearby drawing room, where he heard to voices yelling out in angst. Fom what he could hear, it seemed like one person was yelling at the other. He turned to a small, oak table outside the room, looking at a rusty and bent lead pipe...one of Russia's favorite items. It seemed whoever else lived here now was keeping it safe for him. Well, if Russia could torture Switzerland's little sister to death, he was going to lose his beloved pipe. Picking up the cold weapon, he turned into the drawing room, seeing one figure bent over and the floor, while the other's hands slapped his with enough force to make red splotches appear on his skin. The boy curled up on the floor and crying was Latvia, who was still a short little fellow, with a tall, silver haired female hanging over him.
"WHY?" He sobbed to the women above him. "Is this because I overcooked the straganoff?"
It was FemRussia. She wore a grey dress that looked quite similar to Russia's trench coat, and had a beige scarf draped around her neck. Russia's scarf. Another thing he didn't deserve to have. Apart from his life. She turned upon hearing footsteps, one of her hands around Latvia's neck, the other pointed at Switzerland. "What the hell are you doing in here?" She asked, her heinous Russian accent thick on her tongue. "And with Brother's pipe as well! Put that down and depart now! Or I should just give you a slow, painful death now for intruding."
Switzlerand was shaking in rage. "Your Brother took my sister! You don't know how that feels, do you? Like you clearly aren't as good as anything in Switzerland!" His burning anger and lust to avenge Leichtenstein overcame to Swiss. Raising the pipe, he charged FemRussia, kicking her in the chest and off of Latvia, who continued to snivel weakly. FemRussia looked murderous. Drawing back her arm, she swung it across Switzerland's face, making him stagger back a few feet. FemRussia wasn't a light foe. She was strong...almost as much as her male counterpart.
But the Swiss man was no soft cookie either. He raised the pipe and charged, gritting his teeth as another painful punch hit him, in the stomach this time. The pipe smashed into FemRussia's head, making her screech in pain. She staggered up, her grey eyes boring into his green ones as she snatched a glass bowl of a nearby table and hurled it at Switzerland. "Just get out now! Or maybe I can just kil you now..." She paused, recognizing Switzerland. "Maybe I can just kill you now like how Brother and that wrench Belarus killed your pathetic little sister. Like they cut her up and impaled her on a spear!" With a delighted laugh, FemRussia at him. Red spots tinging his vision, and his heart beating so madly it was sure to explode, Switzerland charged toward Russia's female aspect. A look of amusement crossed her face for a split second.
Before the pipe sank into her skull, leaving a visible indent as it did so. Scarlet blood gushed out of her like a river, staining the floors beneath. She gave one last yelp of pain, then keeled over, dead. Switzerland grinned, allowing himself a moment of victory. He heard voices behind him.
"It's an intruder! Just get him out!" He turned. Lithuania and Estonia were in the entrance to the drawing room, large, sharp butcher knives clutched in both their shaking hands. Estonia turned toward his baltic brother.
"But he killed her! He made us free!"
"What's to say he won't target us next?"
Switzerland's voice was an icy inferno. "You're a smart one, Lithuania. What's to say I won't?" He advanced on the duo. The lead pipe clutched even tighter in his shaking fist. All these people here needed to die. All were in league with Russia. Lithuania's eyes just had enough time to widen in terror, and his hands dropped his knife as a sharp edge of the pipe dug into his chest. He gave a gurgle of pain before bending over, the life lifting out of him. Screaming in fear, Estonia turned and ran, but Switzerland caught the back of his jacket, and dragged him back as he screamed and kicked. Wresting the knife from his grasp, Switzerland took it and slid the sharp steel blade over Estonia's neck, grinning at the sight of the gaping red line of death that smiled up at him.
Latvia ran for the window, his entire small figure shaking and fighting for his life to get it open. Switzerland turned around, and with one smooth twitch of his arm, threw the knife at tiny Latvia, admiring the glinting six inch steel blade as passed in the middle of the red sofas and arm chairs. The blade lodged itself in Latvia's spine. He gave a small grimace then cascaded to the hard stone floor, never to rise again.
Justice was the only thought on Switzerland's mind.
...
Back in the arena...
Dread like liquid nitrogen pupmped through England's veins. A canon had just fired. Sealand had just gone missing. It added up too well this time. Sealand, England's innocent 12 year old brother he'd vowed to protect, had slipped so foolishly out of his grasp, and he'd died.
Green eyes wide as dinner plates, England turned to Hungary. "Do...you think Sealand...?"
She shrugged uncertainly. "Can't say now...we'll have to wait until tonight."
"And it's only morning now, oh what bloody stupid mistake did I make?" England groaned.
Hungary looked at her distressed ally. "If you don't mind me asking...what drove you to care so much for Sealand?"
"Well..." England was silent for a moment. "I suppose it's that we've never been on good terms, but he's only twelve years old, not even a real nation. But he could still get picked to compete in this thing. And I thought that if Panem could make a small child fight to the death, then I could at least try to protect him."
Hungary took this in. "You actually did the right thing, I think. I would have done the exact same for Austria." She allowed herself a small chuckle. "He's such a pansy...he could never make it out here for a minute, not the way you did."
Engladn turned to look at Hungary. Their luminous emerald eyes met for a second in tensio, but then quickly melted away as the leaned toward each other and touched lips.
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