Disclamier: We don't own Hetlaia. If we did, then this story wouldn't exist.
A/N: Hey, everyone! Sorry for the long wait! Life caught up and I had to work. Don't expect too many chapters during the weekends. Castor can't play, she's too exhausted.
If you want to see what Global looks like, Google image "Chernobyl"
*ATTENTION! PLEASE READ!*
We are planning our next story, a sequel to this one, and we need ideas. So, you're trapped in a haunted house and the next room you walk into you die. What room were you in? How did you die? We'll listen to all ideas! You can help us write our next story!
One more thing . . .
MARCO?
Enjoy! Please review!
Kidnapped
After being separated from the other nations, Scotland had been led down the hall and to a small 'hospital' room. He was forced to lay on a bed with side rails and strapped down by his wrists, ankles, and chest. The nation had been left alone in the room for hours before someone came to see him again.
"Well, then, let's get the show on the road, ja?" The door swung open and Teutonic strode into the room, pulling rubber hospital gloves onto his hands.
Scotland struggled against his restraints weakly, watching the realm warily. What did he mean by 'show on the road'? Teutonic reached over Scotland unclipped the clasp behind his head. The winged nation gagged as the breathing tube was drawn from his throat, bucking wildly.
"W-What are ye doing?" Scotland gasped once he was free of the breathing tube.
Teutonic set the breathing tube aside and took a circular pad from a small rolling table beside him. Setting the pad on Scotland's chest, the realm took another and repeated the procedure.
"Well," Teutonic said. "I'm making sure you don't have any problems."
"What do ye mean?" Scotland wriggled on the bed, uncomfortable. His black wings had been cleaned of all ash but the realms hadn't bothered to make sure they were tucked comfortably under the nation.
Ignoring Scotland's question, Teutonic took a syringe from the side table, tapped the needle, and then injected the fluid directly into Scotland's neck.
"What?" Scotland tried to jerk away as the needle was removed. "What was that fer?" he demanded weakly.
"It's a mix of morphine and propofol." Teutonic set the syringe aside and fiddled with items on a tray on the rolling table.
"What does it do?" Scotland asked.
"It's a sedative mix, it will help you relax for the procedure."
"What procedure?" The realm was starting to worry Scotland. What did he have in mind for the trapped nation?
Teutonic picked up a flexible wand from the tray, looking it over before he turned back to Scotland. "This procedure." He grabbed Scotland's jaw and forced the nation's mouth open.
"Gah!" Scotland thrashed against his restraints violently, terrified.
"This is a bronchoscope," Teutonic said, waving the wand before Scotland's face and grinning. "I'm sure you know what it's for." Scotland nodded, his eyes wide with fear. "That's gut, I wouldn't want you unprepared." And with that, the realm slowly eased the bronchoscope down Scotland's throat, watching the monitor carefully. The trapped nation winced at the sensation, whining slightly.
"Be quiet, schlappschwanz, (wimp,) it's not that bad." Teutonic glanced at the screen before chuckling. "Those would be your lungs. It doesn't look like you have any damage. Simply put for your unlearned mind, you should be fine in a couple of days. You'll just have some major coughing." Teutonic withdrew the bronchoscope from Scotland's lungs before removing his plastic gloves. "Any questions?"
"Where am A?" Scotland demanded, trying to get rid of the strange sensation in his throat. It was weird not to feel any tubes after having had one down his esophagus for several hours.
"Well, we call this the Winter Desert," Teutonic explained. "As I told your friend, you call it Siberia."
"What did ye do ta the other nations?"
Teutonic shrugged at the question. "They're locked up, is all. We'll see what happens to them."
"Why did ye kidnap us?"
"Well . . ." Teutonic leaned against a wall. "Most of us want our siblings back. You were simply in the way."
"Ye know where ma brother is." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Scotland struggled against his restraints, his wings straining to fan open.
"Ja, I do." Teutonic cocked his head in thought. "I'm not sure if I should tell you."
"Where is he?" Scotland demanded angrily. With a deep exhale, smoke streamed from his nostrils and flames danced along the Celtic nation's hair. "WHERE IS HE?"
Teutonic seemed unfazed by the fire. "Relax, schlappschwanz." The realm took a syringe and swiftly injected the contents into the fiery nation. "This should help."
"Naw! Where is he?" Scotland struggled to keep his body from relaxing. There was no way he could escape and rescue his baby brother if he couldn't use his magic.
"He's with his brothers." Teutonic leaned over him and flashed a grin. "I'm not sure if he needs you anymore."
"W-What?" Scotland froze in his struggling.
"Britannia's happy with his new life. He doesn't need a brother who picked on him his entire life."
"A-A . . ." Scotland collapsed on the bed, tears forming in his eyes. Teutonic had made a valid point. Was England really happy with his false brothers? "Yer wrong," Scotland whispered.
"I'm not, Scotland." The German realm straightened up and walked to the door, glancing over his shoulder before leaving. "Have fun."
"With what? Being trapped here?"
"Well, you might as well get used to it. If we have our way, the world will be under us. Those who rebel will suffer." Teutonic leaned against the door with a smirk. The fire dancing along Scotland's hair died and the nation collapsed on the bed, the sedative finally kicking in. "You just need some time to adjust. I'm sure someone would love to come pick you up." Teutonic shut the lights off and closed the door quietly.
'Britannia, please, don't forget me.' A tear rolled down Scotland's cheek.
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France woke with a groan, shifting in discomfort. The first thing he noticed was his hands bound tightly behind his back. The second was that he was sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair.
"Que? What is going on here?" France demanded, struggling against the ropes. The last thing he remembered was someone who looked like him knocking him unconscious.
"Bonjour, monsieur France." France's doppelganger stepped out of the shadows, his arms crossed and a smirk across his handsome face.
France froze in his struggling at the sight of himself standing there.
"Who are you?" France finally demanded when he'd finished gaping.
"Moi?" The doppelganger motioned to himself with a flourish. "I am Gaul, and you are me."
"How is that possible?" France asked.
Gaul rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Well, I was born when the country of France was formed in four hundred and eighty-six," he said in a bored tone, as though he had said this fact one too many times before.
"Non, how is that possible that there are two of us? Was Angleterre playing with magic again?"
"Angleterre?" Gaul barked a laugh. "That idiot couldn't magic himself out of a wet paper bag. Non, I am you and you are me. You see, we come from two different worlds."
"Angleterre helped end World War Three with magic." France glared at his doppelganger. "Where is your Angleterre? And you mean to say that there is more than one world?"
"My Angleterre is dead, killed by his brothers," Gaul said, examining his nails. "What I mean by two worlds is what I said. There have always been two worlds. We have recently learned how to cross."
"How did you cross?" France asked.
"Our volcano, Lluköjallajfajye, connects to your volcano, Eyjafjallajökull. The magical force in them is unbelievable. It was a surprise Alba and his brothers managed to contain it."
"Is that why the volcano will not stop erupting?" America, Iceland, and Romano had all pointed out that the Icelandic volcano had been erupting at an unusual rate. Most volcanoes had a pattern they followed.
"Oui, you are bright, though not as bright as me," Gaul said with a smug smirk. "The power must be forced out of the volcanoes in some way. Lluköjallajfajye itself will not stop erupting."
"I am surprised your Iceland allowed you to use his island if you kill each other," France commented. Slowly he had begun to work at the knots binding his hands together.
"Iceland is dead, that is Kalmar's land now." Gaul examined his nails as he waited for a reaction.
France gaped at his doppelganger. "H-He would kill his own brother?"
"Well, we quickly learned that killing each other meant gaining each other's land and power," Gaul explained. "It was just recently we laid down laws to stop our own extinction."
"And what caused those laws? Did China die?" France asked sarcastically.
"Non, New Scandinavia killed himself during Global War Three."
"Que? Who was New Scandinavia?" France could understand why his doppelganger's name was 'Gaul' and figured Kalmar was one of the Nordic nations, but he couldn't think of who New Scandinavia could be.
"Well, as I recall, you call him 'America'," Gaul said.
"You allowed Amérique to kill himself?" France asked, appalled.
"Non, we tried to stop him but we were too late." Gaul looked sincerely sorry as he spoke.
France thought for a moment before speaking. "If you kidnapped me, then you must have kidnapped Iceland, Belgium, England, New Zealand, and Austria."
Gaul leaned forward with a smirk. "I only kidnapped Belgium."
"Que?" Something flashed in Gaul's eyes and realization dawned on France. "What did you do to her?" France struggled violently. The knots were almost undone, just one more tug and he'd be free.
"Well, I must say she was quite fun." Gaul's eyes shone with something sinister.
"Salaud! (Bastard!)" France broke the last knot with a jerk of his arms and leapt at Gaul.
Gaul laughed and dodged France easily. "C'est la vie." He reached out and seized France by the hair.
"Non, c'est dégoûtant! (that's disgusting!)" France winced as he punched out at Gaul. "Where is she?" he demanded.
"Ne vous inquiétez pas, (Don't worry,) you will see here soon enough." Gaul reached out and pinched a nerve. His sinister laugh filled France's head as the nation fell unconscious.
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Alba opened the door quietly, holding a tray of food in one hand. Peeking into the room, the realm smiled. Pothos was lying beside England on the bed, the nation rather tense. England's green eyes were wide and they kept flicking around the room as though they were seeing something different than the ceiling. He didn't seem bothered by the grim's presence anymore.
"Britannia?" Alba asked as he nudged the door open.
England's wide eyes flashed to Alba. "Make him stop," he whispered fearfully.
"What do ye mean 'make him stop'? Who do ye want me ta stop?" Alba raised an eyebrow and moved to stand at England's bedside.
"Pothos," England whimpered. "Please, I-I'm forgetting my real life. I can't remember my real brothers' names anymore." Pothos's tail wagged and he sighed contentedly. The grim had managed to show enough memories to England that Britannia was starting to show through.
"Pothos, that's enough," Alba said sternly. The grim's eyes flew open and he snarled dangerously at the realm. "A'm sure Emerald Isle and Cambria would be happy ta see ye. Besides, ye need ta remember that too many memories can tear a mind apart," Alba scolded the grim without a fear. Pothos cocked his head in thought. Eventually he jumped off the bed and trotted out of the room to find the other Celtic realms.
"Thank you," England sighed. "But, please, can you tell me something?"
"What do ye want ta know?" Alba sat in the chair beside the bed and set the tray across England's knees.
"Was it my real brothers or you who rescued me from Denmark? I can't tell the difference between the memories anymore." England's mind was filled with so many contradicting images, he couldn't tell what was real and what was false.
"We rescued ye, Britannia. Denmark was about to destroy ye," Alba explained. "We had ta fight him off ye. It took a lot of work." He reached over to gently remove the circlet form England's head.
England blinked in surprise and flexed a hand. "You took it off?" he asked in wonder.
"Yer ma brother." Alba stroked England's hair fondly and smiled when the nation leaned into his hand. "A think A can trust ye now."
"I don't even know if that's true anymore," England whispered.
"What do ye mean?" Alba spoke in a soothing voice. "A'm yer big brother, simple as that."
"I-I . . ." England frowned in deep thought. Too many images flashed before his eyes, making his head hurt. Finally, the nation collapsed against the pillows. "O-Of course. What was I thinking?"
"Ye weren't," Alba teased. "If ye were thinking ye would have known that already." England smiled and sat up, pulling the tray of food toward himself. "A hope Pothos didn't drive ye too crazy. He can do that sometimes."
"No, he helped to open my eyes. I need to apologize to Cambria for doubting him." England poked at his food. The thought of accepting what could or could not have been true made him nervous. What if he made the wrong choice?
Alba laughed and patted England's leg. "Trust me, Cambria doubts everyone. He doesn't think we'll be able to live together peacefully."
"I still feel bad." England's snowy wings fanned out then tucked against his back. "I believe I may have hurt his feelings."
"Ye'll get used ta it. It's easier ta hurt his feelings than deal with his attitude."
England smiled weakly. "Of course."
"Well, A need ta get going. A have something that needs ta be done." Alba stood from the chair. "If ye need anything, Cambria can get it fer ya."
"Alright, I'll see you later, then?"
"Of course, Britannia," Alba chuckled, mussing England's hair. "A wouldn't miss ye fer the world."
England watched his 'older brother' leave before digging into his food. Maybe being a younger brother to nice siblings wouldn't be that bad.
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Germany stood on a ledge of rock high above his group searching the caves near the shore. They had been searching for five days, finding nothing. It didn't help that they'd lost contact with everyone else when the volcanic ash caused problems with the cellphone service.
'Where could they be?' Germany wondered, fingering the gun at his hip. 'I wonder if I could ask Canada to send a message through the wind to his brother.'
There was the sound of crunching stones behind Germany and then a curious voice spoke up.
"Kleinen bruder? (Little brother?)" The voice sounded suspiciously like Prussia. Germany felt a tinge of annoyance rise. Why did his brother always have to be so irresponsible?
"Prussia, what are you doing here? You're sup-" Germany froze in midsentence, his eyes widening in surprise. The nation standing before him looked like Prussia, but with black hair and green eyes. A sword was strapped to his hip.
"I am not Prussia," the doppelganger said with a cock of his head, his green eyes calculating.
"Nein, who are you?" Germany whipped his guns out of its holster, aiming at the doppelganger. Was Prussia playing a game with him now?
"I am Teutonic, kleinen bruder." Teutonic gave Germany a mocking bow. "I don't believe we've met."
"I have never heard of anyone named 'Teutonic' before, and I am not your brother." Germany cocked his gun in warning.
"Do you not recall your elder brother?" Teutonic said the word with disgust. "He was a Teutonic Knight."
"Ja, but you are not Prussia, you said so yourself, so you are not my brother." Germany's eyes flicked to the shore below him where Netherlands, Taiwan, Cyprus, Finland, and Canada were searching the caves. Would he be able to get their attention if Teutonic caused him problems?
"Nein." Teutonic shook his head, lazily glancing down at the group. "I am not Prussia, but I am your bruder."
"I am not a brother to some stranger I do not know. What are you doing here?" Germany demanded.
"I want a kleinen bruder, where else can I get one?" Teutonic asked. "Especially since he is related to me." He flashed Germany a feral grin.
"Nein!" Germany fired the gun, surprising the group of nations far below him. Canada tensed, looking up at the cliff. He couldn't see Germany from his position but he felt something wrong in the air.
Teutonic dodged the bullet easily and darted forward, snatching the gun from Germany's grip.
"You are very naughty, kleinen bruder." Germany growled and punched out at Teutonic who grabbed the arm and twisted it painfully behind his back.
"Germany," Taiwan called worriedly. "What's going on up there?"
Teutonic grabbed Germany's jaw with a firm hand, holding it shut tightly. "Not a word, kleinen bruder," he hissed in Germany's ear. Germany struggled against the strong hands, grunting.
"Maybe it was a false alarm?" Taiwan was heard saying. Germany shouted against the hand holding is mouth shut, desperately trying to get the Asian nation's attention.
Teutonic snarled and jerked roughly on Germany's arm. "You are very troublesome." There was a quiet clinking noise and Germany felt a padded cuff locked tightly around his wrist. Teutonic dragged his other arm back and handcuffed that one as well.
'Canada, help me!' Germany thought desperately, shaking his head as he struggled against the realm. 'Please, you have magic, use it.'
"I think I prefer you quiet, kleinen bruder." Reaching into his pocket, Teutonic withdrew a strip of cloth and tied it tightly around Germany's mouth. Germany lurched out of Teutonic's grip and toward the ledge's edge. Maybe one of the others would see him and could help him. Teutonic laughed and dragged the captured nation back. "Nein, nein, nein, Germany," he sang.
"Germany?" Canada's soft voice echoed around the rocks. "Are you alright up there? We heard your gun fire." Germany dug his heels into the ground, screaming against the gag.
Teutonic grunted and shoved Germany ahead of him. "Be a good kleinen bruder and come with me. If you behave, I'll give you a treat." Germany stumbled forward, glaring back at Teutonic. His eyes flicked to the ledge then back to the realm. "Was? Are you thinking of jumping?" Teutonic cackled. "I am used to dealing with troublesome realms, kleinen bruder. You are no different."
Germany sighed against the gag and gave in to Teutonic's next shove. 'Maybe Canada can follow my scent.'
Teutonic led Germany to a car and shoved him into the passenger seat. The realm climbed in behind the wheel and cackled gleefully.
"Time to go home, kleinen bruder."
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Belarus stared down at the fishing boats floating in the Denmark Strait. The strong gales whipped her silver hair and black dress wildly. She watched the boats for another minute before shaking her head in disbelief.
"You must be very egotistical to have a strait named after yourself," Belarus commented, glancing up at China.
"It does not matter how much Denmark loves himself, aru," China said, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "We need to focus on the mission.
Belarus glanced back to see Northern Ireland ruffing his silver wings nervously. "Is something wrong, Mla Irlandyi? (Little Ireland?)" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Something feels wrong in the earth." Northern Ireland fanned his wings to their full extent then pulled them taut against his back. "At first I thought it was the volcano again, but now I don't think it is."
"W-What do you mean?" Latvia asked nervously, sharing a glance with Vietnam.
"It feels like something's missing," Northern Ireland explained. "Like the island suddenly got lighter."
"Something is missing, like what?" Belarus demanded, turning to the winged nation and crossing her arms.
"I-I can't tell. If I used my full power, then maybe I could." Northern Ireland pulled his wings around himself like a cloak, a sign of anxiety.
"Why can't you use your full power?" Belarus tapped her foot impatiently. She never did understand these magical nations and their reservations about using their abilities.
"That would alert any other magic users about my whereabouts and make me weak. I could even pass out." Northern Ireland withered under the female Slavic nation's glare.
"Leave him al'ne, B'larus." Sweden towered over the group, a frightening expression on his face.
"We need to find out what is happening," Belarus huffed. "If brother were to disappear I do not want to think about what I would do, much less what North Russia would do."
"I-I suppose I can try it," Northern Ireland relented. "Just don't leave me here if I pass out." The winged nation crouched low the ground, spreading his wings to their full extent. The very tips of the silver feathers brushed along the rocky ground.
"I don't w'nt you to h'rt yours'lf." Sweden placed a hand on Northern Ireland's shoulder. He could feel a strange heat pulsing through the younger nation. "It's b'st we all r'main healthy." The crouched nation didn't hear him, already having begun the spell.
"Great, we are going to be one member short, aru," China grumbled, crossing his arms. Vietnam patted her brother's arm consolingly while Latvia watched Northern Ireland curiously.
Belarus watched as Northern Ireland's mouth fell open in disbelief. "T-That's impossible," the Celtic nation gasped.
"Što?" Belarus took a step forward with interest, letting her arms drop to her sides. What had the young nation felt in the earth?
"I feel the presence of two Prussia's, and one of them just vanished." Northern Ireland frowned in concentration. "I can't feel Germany either. His group seems to be panicking."
"Wh't do we do?" Sweden asked, looking to China, their leader.
China's eyes narrowed. "We need to regroup immediately. If Germany has disappeared and there are two of Prussia, then something bad is going on, aru."
Northern Ireland straightened up from his crouch, pulling his wings taut. The young Celtic nation swayed on the spot dangerously. With a grunt, Sweden scooped him into his arms.
"Let's head b'ack to the van," Sweden suggested. Northern Ireland relaxed in the Nordic nation's arms as China nodded in agreement.
"Yes, we need to find some way to alert the others. Perhaps we will come across Wales on our return to the building." China led the way back to their waiting van. Sweden followed quickly, Northern Ireland falling asleep in his arms, Vietnam and Latvia trailing after them.
Belarus took a single step forward before she cocked her head and crossed to a large boulder, looking behind it.
"Vialiki brat, (Big brother,) what are you doing here?" Belarus asked, staring in bewilderment at the stranger who resembled Russia but with black hair and yellow eyes.
"Privet, Belarus," the stranger said with a cold smile. "I have not seen you in a while."
"Who are you?" Belarus backed away from the doppelganger. "I have not seen you before."
The doppelganger strode forward and stopped before Belarus, smiling. "I am your big brother, you said it yourself"
"You are not my big brother." Belarus crossed her arms, glaring at the male. "Even if you do look like him."
"But I am your brother, Belarus, I am Russia.
"You are not Russia. What is your name?" Belarus glanced back toward the van. She wondered if she could make it back to the group before this strange male caught her.
The man smiled in defeat. "I am Soviet."
Belarus' eyes flashed dangerously. "The Soviet Union was dissolved long ago."
"Da, but I did not say I was the Soviet Union," Soviet pointed out. "I am only Soviet."
"What do you want from me?" Belarus stiffened as Soviet stepped up beside her and leaned down, his breath tickling the hair near her air.
"Belarus, marry me." The female nation gasped as a hand grabbed her by the back of her neck with surprising force. Black dots swarmed over her eyes as the ground tilted up to meet her. Eventually, darkness over took Belarus and she fainted in Soviet's arms.
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Norway stared in shock as a nation he didn't recognize strode through a hole in the side of Eyjafjallajökull. The stranger carried a small form in a dark violet dress over his shoulder.
"What the hell? Did you see that?" Norway demanded, glancing over his shoulder. Estonia, Mexico, and Hong Kong nodded nervously. None of them noticed Spain's tension or acid green eyes.
"Do you think he took Iceland?" Hong Kong asked worriedly.
"I don't know." Norway bit his lip, thinking quickly. "Come on." He stood and charged for the slowly closing passage way.
"Norway, are you crazy?" Romania followed his friend quickly.
Spain grabbed his axe and raced after the friends, anger in his dark eyes. Hong Kong glanced at Mexico who shrugged and they followed at a slower pace with Estonia. None of them knew what to make of the hole in the volcano.
The group of nations entered the passage way. Norway froze as they stepped out of the light. He stared in shock at the remains of a city surrounding the volcano.
Romania panted as he caught up to his friend. "Norway, what's gotten into y-" The Balkan nation straightened up and froze at the sight before him. "What the hell? Where are we?"
Spain stopped beside them, shifting his grip on the axe. Hong Kong, Mexico, and Estonia gaped at the city.
"What happened here?" Hong Kong asked, kicking a building. The building shuddered visibly, the supports threatening to cave in. Hong Kong backed away from the death threat immediately.
"I don't know, but we need to move. Come on." Norway led the group down what once must have been the main street of the destroyed city.
"I want teacher." Hong Kong grabbed a fistful of Norway's sleeve fearfully. The foreboding sight of the city was terrifying him.
"We don't even know if this is safe, Norway." Romania looked at the empty, forbidding buildings warily.
"It probably isn't," Norway agrees. "Does that mean we should turn back and not search for Iceland?"
Suddenly, Spain spun around, his eyes flicking to a tall building.
"Spain, what is it?" Mexico asked nervously.
"Nada, we thought we saw something." Spain's eyes searched the skyline carefully.
'We?' Mexico blinked in surprise. She had only ever heard him speak in the plural form when she'd first met him as Conquistador. The egotistical ex-empire must be back.
"I think we should turn back." Hong Kong tugged on Norway's sleeve. "I don't like it here."
Norway shrugged Hong Kong off. "We still need to search. I don't care how unsafe it looks." The Nordic nation would have continued if the building beside them hadn't shuddered dangerously.
Spain stood on the beam of the building. Strangely, though, both his hair and eyes were a dangerous red color. The doppelganger flashed the group a malicious grin.
"Hola."
Conquistador flashed his doppelganger an equally malicious grin. "Hola, ¿dónde está nuestro Romano? (Hello, where is our Romano?)" Mexico, Hong Kong, and Estonia stared at the stranger on the building, eyes wide with fear.
"Hm. I'm not sure if I want to answer that." The doppelganger stared down at Mexico hungrily. "I must say gracias for allowing me to come, Kalmar." Mexico shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
"Ja, it wasn't pr'blem." Denmark's doppelganger stepped out from behind a building, an axe over one shoulder and a broadsword in his other hand. "Hej, bror." He nodded a greeting to Norway.
"Bror?" Norway repeated, taking a careful step back. "I don't even know you."
"We kn'w ya." Kalmar stepped forward, a haunted look in his orange eyes.
"What's going on?" Hong Kong whimpered, hiding behind Norway.
"What's going is we're turning back." Norway stood before Hong Kong protectively. "Spain, I want you to get them out of here."
"Do not tell us what to do." Conquistador hefted his axe onto his shoulder, his eyes staying on Hispania.
"I can do it, Norway." Estonia watched the realms warily.
"Spain, I want you to do as I say or so help me I will beat you to Valhalla." Norway glared at the Hispanic nation. Conquistador thought for a moment before he snarled, grabbing Hong Kong and throwing him over his shoulder.
"Hey!" Hong Kong shouted in fear and surprise. Why was Spain being so belligerent?
"Callate, (Shut up,)" Conquistador snapped. "Vamos. (Let's go.)" He backed away from the group with Hong Kong over one shoulder and his axe in the other hand. Estonia raced after him.
"What are you going to do?" Romania glanced back as he followed the group.
"What do you think?" Norway drew his sword. "I'm going to hold them back."
Mexico hurried to follow the escaping group. Hispania's eyes flashed before he followed, running along the beams. He leapt off one and landed with the ease of a cat before Mexico. Straightening up, he grinned down at Mexico.
"Hola señorita."
"Ah!" Mexico fell back, drawing her sword form its sheath. "What do you want?"
"What do you think?" Hispania seized Mexico's wrist, twisting it easily disarm the female nation.
"Spain! ¡Ayúdame! (Help me!)" Mexico struggled helplessly in her captors grip.
Conquistador spun around to look back. "Estás por tu cuenta. (You're on your own.)" The ex-empire turned and fled down the street with Romania and Estonia following him.
"¿Qué?" Mexico watched the retreating forms in disbelief. "¡Hijo de puta!"
Hispania wrapped his arms in a grip that could have been loving, if it wasn't so controlling. "Now we can be together, mi amor."
"¿Qué? I am not your amor!" Mexico struggled in the realm's 'loving' grip. "Déjame ir! (Let me go!)"
"That's too bad, mi amor, we'll be together forever." Hispania nuzzled Mexico's dark hair affectionately. "No one will come to help you."
"America!" Mexico wailed at the top of her lungs. "Help me!"
Norway stood stock still, watching Kalmar carefully and waiting for the Nordic realm's move.
"As I said, I am not your bror," Norway told his enemy.
"Ja, ya are." Kalmar stood in a relaxed stance, not moving an inch. "Ya j'st don't kn'w it yet."
Norway raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. "I don't know it yet? I have four other brothers, I don't need on more."
"Th'n I should k'll Icy?" Kalmar hefted his axe lightly. "I could, ya kn'w."
"Are you the one who took Iceland?" Norway demanded, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Ja, he's h'ppy wh're he is. It m'ght not be his choice, though."
"What do you mean 'it might not be his choice'?" Norway's grip tightened on his sword. What did the bastard do to his little brother?
"Dr'gs w'rk in m'sterious ways." Kalmar charged forward, swinging his axe down.
Norway dodged the swing. "You drugged Iceland?" He swung his sword in an arch aimed at Kalmar's head.
"Ja." Kalmar parried the blow with his broadsword and retaliated with an axe swing from above and a sword form the side.
Norway ducked to the ground quickly and attempted to stab up from his position. "Bastard!" he shouted angrily.
Kalmar bellowed like a wounded bull when the sword sliced his leg. He brought the hilt of his axe down hard on Norway's right arm. Norway cried out, feeling the bone snap under the sudden pressure. The Nordic nation clutched his arm to his chest as he stumbled back, panting.
"How else was I s'ppose ta m'ke s're he stayed?" Kalmar advanced on Norway, driving the small nation into a corner.
Norway glanced back when he collided with a wall. "Why do you want him to stay?" he demanded. His eyes danced around the corner, trying to find some way to escape the trap.
"He's my lillebror, and so are ya." Kalmar lowered the tip of his broadsword to Norway's throat.
Norway tried to back away from the sword tip dancing along his throat. There was a loud clatter as his sword hit the ground. "I already told you, I'm not your bror."
"Are ya s're?" Kalmar asked dangerously as he dragged his sword along Norway's left arm. The blade left a deep cut in its wake, nearly slicing the muscle. Crying out, Norway attempted to staunch the bleeding with his broken arm. "Are ya s're?" Kalmar sliced Norway's right ankle, cutting the Achilles tendon. Norway screeched in pain and collapsed to the ground. His breaths came out in heavy gasps as he stared at Kalmar's boots. Pain screamed through his body and his right leg refused to move, unable to now.
"Do ya w'nt the pain ta leave, lillebror?" Kalmar crouched beside the sobbing nation.
"Ja," Norway gasped out through gritted teeth. "Tak. (Please.)"
"Th'n say it." Kalmar lowered his broadsword to Norway's left leg.
"Tak, stop!" Norway shut his eyes tight, trying in vain to block out the pain. Why didn't the bastard just kill him already?
The blade pierced the skin. Norway felt a line of blood trickled down his leg with the fresh pain.
"Wh't do ya c'll me?" Kalmar asked sternly.
"Tak." Norway swallowed hard. "Storebror."
"Godt." Kalmar dropped his weapons to the ground and seized Norway's right arm and leg in a strong grip.
"Stop!" Norway screamed, struggling as more pain washed through his body. He was surprised he hadn't passed out yet.
Ignoring Norway's cries, Kalmar closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. Slowly, the pain in Norway's arm and leg faded to a dull throb. The realm released Norway's limbs and grabbed his bleeding arm, making that pain stop as well.
Norway panted as he stared at Kalmar. "H-How did you do that?"
"M'gic." Kalmar grinned as he returned his weapons back to their sheaths. Norway glanced at his sword lying a few feet away before diving to grab it. Kalmar's boot came down hard on Norway's left thigh. "Dr'p it." There was a sickening crack as Norway's left femur bone snapped clean in half. Norway screamed in pain, releasing his grip on the sword. He lay limp on the ground breathing hard.
"If ya wouldn't be bad, th'n storebror wouldn't h've ta h'rt ya." Kalmar hoisted Norway into his arms. "I'll leave ya ta feel th't pain fer a wh'le."
Norway stifled a sob and struggled weakly in the realm's arms. "Nei."
"Nej?" Kalmar snarled. All the pain that had been erased surged back into Norway's body.
"Nei! Nei!" Norway screamed, bucking in Kalmar's grip.
"Hispania!" Kalmar shouted over Norway's screams. "I w'nt ya off th's isl'nd by s'ndown!" The Nordic realm turned away from the town toward his own house. "Look's l'ke Moder g'ts ta meet a new friend."
"Sí, Kalmar." Hispania grinned and lifted Mexico onto his shoulder, heading for the shoreline of the solidified ocean.
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Greece surveyed the walls of the canyon carefully before turning to Cuba, Wales, Hungary, and Korea.
"France isn't here," Greece told them.
"Should I have gone back to check on him?" Wales asked, shuffling his wings nervously.
"What could have happened to him, da-ze?" Korea asked the question everyone was wondering.
"I don't know." Hungary planted her hands on her hips, biting her lip. "This is my fault. If we hadn't come this way he wouldn't have disappeared."
"I'm going to check from the sky." With a pump of his chocolate wings, Wales took off into the sky.
Hungary turned back to what remained of their group. "Let's keep searching. We need to retrace our steps. Perhaps we can find France that way."
Cuba sighed and nodded in agreement. "Sí, Hungary." He turned and led Hungary and Korea over the rocky terrain.
"This is too much work," Greece sighed to himself.
"I have ta agree, brat," a malicious voice said from behind the Mediterranean nation.
Greece froze, slowly turned to look behind himself. "Turkey?"
"Hayır. Ottoman." A mask-less Turkey with red hair and yellow eyes stood beside a large boulder.
"Where the hell is your mask? You know you're too ugly to walk around without it." Greece slowly looked Ottoman up and down. "This isn't funny."
Ottoman snarled and advanced on Greece, seizing the nation by the throat. "Ya want ta say that again, brat?" Greece gasped for air, clutching onto Ottoman's arm. "Ya like that, ya little brat?" Ottoman tightened his grip. "Ya sure were fun ta chase when I first killed ya." Greece's eyes widened and he struggled in Ottoman's grip. Black dots swarmed across his vision.
"I can't wait until ya see yer new home, brat," Ottoman chuckled darkly. "I hope I can get Egypt and Cyprus too. I miss having them around." Greece's knees gave way and his arms dropped. He wheezed from the lack of oxygen. Ottoman released the nation, watching him fall to the group. "It's a shame I can't kill ya again.
Greece gasped and coughed as he caught his breath. "B-Bastard."
"Ya want me ta choke ya again?" Ottoman asked harshly. "I can do it, ya know." Greece glared up at the realm but kept his mouth shut. Ottoman grinned and withdrew handcuffs from his coat pocket, cuffing Greece's arms behind his back. The weak nation was forced to his feet by harsh hands. "Walk." Ottoman shoved him forward.
Greece stumbled, nearly falling face first on to the sharp stones. He glared back at his captor. "Why do you want me if you killed me in the first place?"
"The house I too quiet. I miss havin' someone ta fight with." Ottoman forced in the opposite direction of his group, pausing to glance at the sky. "Ya know, I bet if I shot at the right angle, I could hit that thing." He drew his gun from its holster.
Greece looked up to the sky. His eyes widened at the sight of Wales soaring overhead. "No!" Leaping forward, he rammed his shoulder into Ottoman's stomach.
"Gah!" The gun fired and a scream echoed throughout the canyon. Ottoman turned to Greece angrily. "Why, ya little!" He shot Greece in the right leg, causing the nation to collapse to the ground with a cry.
"Are you going to kill me again?" Greece looked up from the ground weakly.
"Hayır, I can't do that." Greece could see the figure of Wales being carried to the ground by one of the four wind spirits. Ottoman bent down and hoisted Greece over his shoulder. "I bet I only hit its wing," he commented bitterly.
Greece gritted his teeth and struggled weakly. "You bastard, you could have killed him."
"That was the goal before ya decided ta interfere." Ottoman continued on his way across the rocks.
Greece lifted his head to look desperately for the group. "Hungary, Wales!" he shouted. They had to find Wales before he was injure any more.
"Dammit!" Ottoman dropped Greece to the ground, grabbing a rock and striking the nation across the temple. Greece cried out and lay limp on the ground, not responding when the realm threw him over his shoulder again.
"Greece, where are you?" Hungary's voice echoed over the rocks. There was the sound of hurried footsteps and more shouts.
Ottoman glanced briefly over his shoulder. "Ya better look fer yer friend," he called. "He could be dead by now." The realm disappeared over the rocks with ease.
"Greece?" Hungary appeared around the corner, worry in her eyes. "Where are you?"
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Kalmar stepped out of the forest surrounding his house with Norway tucked into his arms. He stopped at a cage at the forest's edge and opened the door, throwing Norway in. Norway grunted as he hit the ground rather hard.
"H've fun," Kalmar said. "Icy only l'sted four hours in th're."
"What are you doing?" Norway asked, struggling to sit up through the pain.
Kalmar shut the cage's door and locked it. "W'll, I h've ta g've Icy his dr'gs r'ght now. And ya get ta meet Moder."
"Who's Moder? And stay away from Iceland." Norway eyes flashed as he grabbed the cage's bars with his left hand.
"Ya'll see." Kalmar stood and walked back to the house. Norway spotted Iceland eagerly waiting for his 'brother'.
"What has he done to you?" Norway watched his younger brother sadly. The door shut behind Kalmar and Iceland, leaving Norway alone in the yard. The air was still for several minutes before a freezing gale blew a blizzard in.
"What the hell?" Norway attempted to rub his arms, grimacing in pain. He couldn't use his right and his left arm burned with every movement made.
Norway had no idea how long he was in the cage, it could been mere minutes or even hours. All he knew was pain as each snowflake touched his body. The sight of a woman floating in the blizzard barely fazed Norway. The fur-cloaked woman looked down on Norway's shattered form sadly.
'Do you give in?' A woman's cool voice echoed through Norway's head. It reminded him of the first snowfall and frost decorating the windows.
"Give in to what?" Norway looked the woman up and down, he didn't recognize her from anywhere.
'Do you give in to Kalmar? The blizzard will not leave until you give in.'
Norway shivered as he attempted to curl into a tight ball. "I don't care anymore. Just let me die."
The woman dissipated into the blizzard, leaving Norway along. It was several long moments before there was the sound of crunching boots.
Norway glanced up weakly. "Go away."
"I can't do th't. Th's is my h'me." Kalmar towered over the broken nation.
"Go to hell," Norway groaned and shivered.
Kalmar bent down to open the cage's door and scooped Norway into his arms. "I can't do th't either." He carried Norway into the house and set him on a couch beside a roaring fire in the living room.
Norway glanced around the room weakly before attempting to glare at Kalmar. "Why didn't you just leave me out there to die?"
"Yer my lillebror." Kalmar took two small slabs of wood and set them on either side of Norway's left thigh. He whispered a few words under his breath and the bones snapped back into place. Norway screamed and grabbed his leg with his left hand.
"Stop!"
Kalmar ignored his screams, tying the wood tightly with a bandage. He moved onto Norway's arm and repeated the procedure. Norway's bleeding arm was bandaged tightly next. Finally, the realm looked to Norway's ankle.
"I'll need ta use m'gic ta fix th's." Kalmar poked the ankle gingerly.
Norway jerked his ankle away, gritting his teeth tightly. "Why don't you just kill me now instead of torturing me?"
"I w'nt my små brødre (little brothers) back." Kalmar grabbed Norway's ankle in a firm grip and whispered a few more words. There was the sensation of something being pulled taught in Norway's leg, almost like a rubber band. Norway gasped and collapsed on the couch, giving up. There was quiet footsteps and a fox-eared head poked into the room.
"Icy, br'ng me the gl'ss fr'm the count'r in the k'tchen." Kalmar didn't look over his shoulder.
"Já, stóri bróðir." Iceland disappeared and returned moments later with a glass half-full with water.
Kalmar helped to move Norway into a sitting position. He held the glass to Norway's chapped lips. "Dr'nk it," he commanded gently.
"What is it?" Norway pursed his lips, eyeing the glass suspiciously. Kalmar sighed and plugged the nation's nose, pouring the drink down Norway's throat when he gasped for air.
Norway coughed as he choked on the liquid. "What the hell was that?" he wheezed, trying to catch his breath.
"Dr'gs. I'll leave ya and Icy ta t'lk." Kalmar stood and left the room with a regretful expression.
"Drugs?" Norway repeated, blinking for a moment before he struggled to move. "I need to get out of here."
"Norway, wait." Iceland placed a calming hand on Norway's shoulder. "It's not that bad here."
Norway glared at his younger brother. "You can't say that, he's drugged you."
"Come on, stór bróðir, it's not that bad." Iceland stroked Norway's hair soothingly as his brother collapsed on the couch.
"I don't believe you." The day's events caught up to Norway, the exhaustion settling in his bones. The nation's body slowly relaxed as he drifted off to sleep. His dreams were filled with a time when he and his brothers were happy and together.
A/N: We LOVE kidnapping stories! Can you tell?
The femur is the largest bone in your body and nearly impossible to break. It can be done, though, we've seen it before.
The Achilles tendon is a tendon in your ankle. It's pulled so taut that it feels like a bone. Once sliced, the Achilles tendon will snap back like a rubber band and cause immense pain. You won't ever be able to walk again afterward.
Teutonic never formed Germany. He killed his brothers before he could.
Do I hear a "Polo"?