Flowers for Balaton, Chapter 10, an Axis Powers: Hetalia/1983: Doomsday Fanfiction
(Chapter 10: A Silent Death)
Somewhere near Belfast, Northern Ireland, September, 1983…
"Bloody Reds… I can't believe they finally did it…" Fergus McNamara sighed to himself as he lit a cigarette. Darcy mumbled something in agreement as he looked out of the window to where the city of Belfast once stood, now a charred pile of rubble…
The young Irishman looked over to the sleeping woman that they'd met when Belfast was hit, she seemed to be healing, but at an alarmingly fast rate. Some of her scars were seemingly permanent however as Darcy ran his fingers through her hair.
He'd heard rumours of such people existing, these so-called 'Nations'. But to see such people up close was something else… The young girl slowly woke up; a look of terror was frozen on her face as she stared into the eyes of her supposed captor.
"Tell me where I am, right fucking now!" she hissed as he reached for her pistol, but was surprised to find that she'd been disarmed in her sleep. "You're not too far away from Belfast... Miss…" Darcy sighed as he looked at the woman, who felt like she was going to throw up.
"You IRA bastards are always the same, wanting something that you will never have… You'll never have me! No matter how many times you violate me, Arthur will always be there for me…" she stuttered as a mounting sense of dread nearly overwhelmed the young girl, maybe he wouldn't be there for him this time, possibly never again…
"He will be there… He always is…" she thought to herself as she curled up into a ball and started to cry, knowing that her half-brother was probably no more than a pile of bones. "We're not your enemy, not anymore at least…" Darcy said in stilted Gaelic as he held the young woman's hand.
"What's your name? Miss?" he asked, trying to comfort her, Fergus turned to face the pair as he looked them with a tinge of sympathy. "I'm Branna… Branna Kirkland…" the Nation stuttered as she squeezed Darcy's hand, hoping that the pain would go away…
-0-
Port Elizabeth, New Britain, August, 2015…
Marcus awoke to the sounds of chirping birds, despite it being winter, it seemed that the wildlife of what was formerly known as South Africa were living as if the lower-than-average temperature didn't faze them.
The young Prussian sat up in bed, only to notice that he had no clothes on, with only a few sheets covering up his body. He lied back down to notice a young woman sleeping beside him, who was also not wearing any clothes. Her beret was hanging on the end of the bed, right next to Marcus's jacket.
"What the hell…?" Marcus muttered to himself. He could barely remember the events of the previous night, except for falling off Alice's couch and going through a major, if somewhat temporary depression. Marcus then blushed upon remembering what had happened in those lost hours.
"Mein Gott… We didn't do it…? Did we?" he grimaced as he noticed that Roza was waking up. She stared into his eyes with a much more upbeat expression, although there still were hints of melancholy... "Morning…" she smiled weakly as she held onto Marcus's arm.
"G-gut morgen… Roza…" Marcus stuttered as his face turned to a dark shade of pink, making the Hungarian laugh.
"Don't worry, Marcus… It's kind of normal for us Cursed Ones… Just ask Darcy and Maximillian…" the Hungarian grinned as she rested her head on Marcus's chest. "It's ok… I understand…" Marcus sighed as he slowly eased himself out of the bed.
Marcus grabbed his jacket and the clothes he was wearing a few hours prior. "Last night was comforting, if a little awkward." He smiled as Roza did the same.
"I couldn't agree more… Hopefully I won't turn around and kill you…"
"After all, you're really good, no wonder Lina likes you so much~" she gave Marcus a suggestive wink before fading away.
Just as Marcus was about to provide another one of his witticisms to his previous body, Lina opened the door to Marcus adjusting his jacket. "Morning, lieben." She smiled, pulling him into a comforting hug.
"Good morning, Lina" Marcus said as he kissed her on the cheek, still feeling a bit awkward from what had happened between him and Roza.
"I see that you're feeling better. Frankie's made breakfast for us…" Lina smiled as she walked out of the room while holding Marcus's hand.
"I am feeling a little bit better… Certainly a lot more than I was last night…" Marcus sighed while Lina nodded in agreement.
"Ja… Hopefully it's going to remain that way." The blonde smiled as the pair sat down at the dining table, where Frankie brought over the pair's breakfast.
"Morning, Marcus…" Francine smiled as she sat next to Marcus and started to eat her own breakfast, which just consisted of a cup of coffee and some toast with jam spread all over it.
"So… What did Roza tell you last night?" Marcus gave a somewhat forced smile as he took a sip from his coffee mug.
Lina and Frankie looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say to Marcus. "She told us about her experience in that wretched prison… I can't believe someone could go through such pain for so long…"
"Ah, yes… I can tell you that she suffered greatly, and we will try to find peace, for the both of us…" Marcus muttered as he started to eat his food, with the two women nodding in agreement, but were unsure of his mental state…
The three then finished their breakfast in silence, with Marcus finishing first. Francine got out of her chair first, followed by Marcus and Lina. The three walked over to Alice, who was sitting in front of the television.
"I assume that you lot are leaving?" the Nation turned around to face the three as Francine nodded.
"Ja. Lina and Marcus are going to leave tomorrow, so we may as well go back to my house while we're at it…" Frankie replied with Alice getting out of the chair and switching the television off.
Alice nodded as she looked at the trio with a smile. "Dad left a few hours ago, so I guess this is goodbye from the both of us…"
"Auf wiederhiesen" Marcus smiled as he walked out of Alice's house, with Frankie and Lina following him. He thought of the terrifying moment on top of that building, how he nearly could've taken his own life.
"Nein… I'm not alone, and I never will be…"
-0-
"How long are we gonna be stayin' here for?" Branna sighed as she looked over to Fergus, who'd fallen asleep on the cold floor. Darcy stared into the young Nation's eyes as she rested her head on his lap.
"Depends on what Ferg' has to say on the matter…" the Irishman muttered as he fidgeted with an unlit cigarette in his hands before throwing it away. "I'd trade these for a pint of Guinness any time…"
Darcy suddenly coughed for a moment, and then started to feel a little uneasy as he suddenly felt the urge to throw up. He suddenly then realised that his life might end sooner than he thought... "No… Not like this…"
"Is everything ok, Darcy?" Branna looked at him with a raised eyebrow, knowing that something was wrong with him. The young man went pale as he tried to think up of a cover story to tell the young Nation, although he knew that she would find out eventually…
"I'm just tired… I need to rest…" he sighed as Branna got up and helped Darcy to his feet. He slowly walked over to a vacant bed that the owner of the house had given them to use. Darcy collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep soon after.
"Why must the world be so cruel to us…?" Branna suddenly heard a foreign sounding accent, a young woman, who was possibly in her early-to-mid 20's, was sitting in what was originally vacant chair.
"You're no Bean Sí…" Northern Ireland stared at the young woman who suddenly morphed into a more grotesque form, instead of a young, rather attractive looking woman, Branna was face-to-face with a twisted corpse that had more than a few bullet holes in her head and chest. Her torn military fatigues showed off a body that had been violated and tormented during her short life.
"I'm much more than that... Észak-Írország" the corpse teased, giving her a smile before changing back to her 'normal' form.
"I'm what your kind would refer to as a Cursed One… Humans that are cursed with an unbreakable cycle of death and resurrection, being forced to inhabit body after body. Being reduced to a ghost that inhabits the head of the living body…"
"I know of your people…" Branna said as she looked at Darcy, who was shaking in his sleep, probably having a nightmare or something along the lines of one… "Arthur told me about what you're like; some of you are just downright crazy, while some of you have been alongside us for centuries…" the Nation sighed as Roza walked over to the young man.
"He's dying… Branna… Darcy's only going to last a few weeks, at the most..."
Branna nodded as she tried to hold back the tears, seeing the Cursed One in a state such as this was quite a harrowing experience. "There must be a way for him to survive, THERE MUST BE!" she hissed, almost snapping at Roza.
"Nem… There isn't, he's going to die, Branna… Then he's going to end up like me, I can assure you, being like this is a fate worse than the most painful death imaginable."