Sorry about the wait. I was on a trip and wasn't able to update! The warnings in this one? Mmm... More Germany and Russia.
Ludwig woke with a start, having been plagued with yet another nightmare. He had had them before, but not to the caliber the ones he had been having were. He didn't care to count how many times he had watched his brother brutally murdered, always reaching to him for help with a bloodied, trembling hand, screaming for him to help with tears of both agony and terror in his eyes. Every time he'd be too far away, too powerless to stop it. Every time he' die, hatred in his crimson eyes as the life drained from him, always accusing. It was Ludwig's fault any of this had happened after all. It was a dream like this he woke up from, a ragged scream bubbling past his lips.
It was only when the sound stopped, leaving behind only an eerie echo of his pain, that he realized he was chained down heavily to an uncomfortable wooden chair of some sort. With an angry snarl he thrashed around, desperate to escape the chair, though all his efforts resulted in was a sharp agony and a yelp of pain. He hurt everywhere.
Aside from his first night, his sadistic Russian captor had refrained from setting him on fire. In the wake of the flames he had been whipped, beaten to the point of shattered bones by the lead pipe, cut to shreds, shot at, branded, and sprayed with acid, and yet somehow he felt like the worst was yet to come. He would never admit it to anyone, save himself and maybe, just maybe, his alter bruder, but he was terrified. At the sound of heavy boots treading down the hall, he flinched and let out a soft whimper as his heart stuttered and exploded in his chest, growing painfully fast at the knowledge he was soon to be cursed with Ivan's presence.
The door slammed open, revealing an SS garbed Ivan. Two flogging whips were in his gloved hands, each having multiple lashes. The tips of each lash glistened faintly in the dim light of the room as the bits of broken vodka bottles reflected the light. Almost casually Ivan jerked his wrists, sending both whips out to kiss Ludwig's sides, drawing blood hungrily. Apparently Ivan wasn't wasting anytime in pleasantries today. A Dark, childish grin split his lips as he moved closer to his German prisoner.
"Privyet Ludwig. I am having something new for you today." Ivan said in a too bright voice as he sent both whips lashing across Ludwig's sides and chest again. Blood splashed up and his cheek, something he found exceedingly humorous. "Blood already?" He giggled, running a finger carelessly through the spot of blood on his cheek.
Ludwig jerked under the bite of the whip, a groan of pain escaping him. How Ivan was able to be so cheerful as he cruelly mutilated another man, he didn't know. For the most part he was able to ignore the sting of the glass and whips as the cut into him, though when one caught his neck and cut it open he shuddered and squeezed his dull blue eyes shut to try to keep back the tears that sprung to them. His heart thundered ever faster in his chest as he pressed back against the chair, futilely trying to get as far from his Russian captor as possible as the whips caressed his bloodied skin.
"Is it hurting already?" Ivan purred in mock concern as he sent the whips out, tearing at Ludwig's skin. He smirked as his prisoner jerked under the hungry mouths of the whips and with a giddy little giggle he swung the instruments to and fro, carelessly slicing up Ludwig's sides, legs, chest, neck, shoulders, face... Every inch of exposed flesh. It wasn't long before the German resembled a bloodied piece of meat more than he did a man, but this was something Ivan had done before. That meant it was only the beginning, only a warm up for what was truly to come.
It didn't take long for Ivan to get bored, he usually did when Ludwig stubbornly remained silent save the occasional groan or gasp of pain as he hit a particularly sensitive spot on the man's body. All to soon he dropped the whips and drew closer to Ludwig, boots becoming slick with scarlet blood as it collected in a pool underneath the battered man chained to the chair. "You are looking uncomfortable, da? Let me be helping..." He said cheerfully as he switched on a switch on the wall.
At first all that Ludwig did was twitch, but soon he was convulsing in the chair, his scream filling the room as pulse after pulse, wave after wave of powerful electric currents coursed through his weakened body. He was all but paralyzed from the sheer amount of agony that rendered every nerve powerless from the agonizing, jolting electricity that had it's way with his body. The thirty second Ivan had the chair turned on for, were the longest thirty seconds of Ludwig's life and he was all too grateful when the electricity stopped shooting through him, instantly going limp in the chair once it stopped. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he was unable to do anything but sit there, limbs to wracked with pain to be able to move well at all. He knew there was some reason he shouldn't show weakness to this man, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why through the haze of agony that shrouded everything. He couldn't remember who he was. No wait. That wasn't true. He was Ludwig... Ludwig.
"Oh Ludwig. Don't be crying now! We can keep playing!" Ivan cooed, unchaining the German man with something that resembled affection. Immediately the usually strong blonde nation slumped to the ground in his own pool of blood. His blood, still oozing lazily from his wounds, splattered the already saturated ground, the chair, he had been so brutally electrocuted in, and even the Russian that loomed above him with a dark, sinister grin. "Come on now Luddy, you can't be sleeping on me now! Ludwig..." He frowned as the German defiantly stayed on the ground, his blue eyes, though glazed with an insurmountable amount of pain, held an unshakable determination to defy Ivan's wishes. The expression infuriated him, and with a vicious snarl he sent his heavy, steel toed boot into his prisoner's ribs with all the force he could muster. "I said get up Ludwig!" He growled furiously, kicking him again.
Ludwig yelled raggedly in pain, curling around his ribs as best he could, trying to protect them from the vicious kicks. Muffled snaps sounded from inside of him and blood slowly began to trickle from his mouth as he tried to struggle to his feet. He just couldn't get his feet under him, couldn't force his limbs to work properly and push him up. His strength, usually something that was sure and unshakable, was failing him. The boot connected with his ribs again, but the only sound that escaped him was a whimper and a low groan, his already ravaged, bloodied side taking in further damage.
"Get. Up. NOW." Ivan shouted, bringing his foot up and stomping down on Ludwig's shoulder, forcing the German to uncurl and expose his chest. With a cruel, twisted expression he stomped down on Ludwig's sternum and collar bones repeatedly, over and over and over until his usually broad chest glistened with crimson, jagged bones sticking through his skin, random and directionless. A caved in chest was usually such a fatal injury, but Ludwig was Germany. He was a nation. He could die, but it took more than just physical damage like this. That left the German only able to slay there and take his torturing, enduring the agony until it was all he could feel. He was reduced to a slab of meat, something that caused Ivan a great amount of joy.
"I am thinking we are needing to play a different game." Lavender eyes flashed with deadly glee as he spoke, fighting back giggles. "I am having a great idea. You'll love this game Luddy." He giggled, pulling a serrated knife from the pocket of the SS jacket he wore. Humming cheerfully, he pressed the blade against Ludwig's abdomen, causing the German to shudder uncontrollably with terror. "Little Luddy, don't you cry. If you cry, you're sure to die." The Russian said in a singsong voice as he stabbed the knife into Ludwig's stomach, creating a deep, horizontal incision just under his belly button.
Blood, if it was possible the man had any more to lose, welled up and spilled down Ludwig's stomach. Ivan ran his finger's through the thick, sticky fluid, staining his frozen fingers as red as the color of his people. His communists. With a giggle he pressed his hand inside of Ludwig, seeking out his pale, pink intestines. It was apparent he found what he was looking for when Ludwig felt the strangest, agonizing sensation of something foreign gripping onto the slimy, bumpy organ. He gasped in pain, all the further reaction he was able to muster, as Ivan slowly stroked his intestines, squeezing firmly.
Shudders ran through Ludwig's frame as he laid there, having his insides rearranged by a freezing hand. Ivan didn't stop at just his intestines. He moved up to caress the man's kidneys, his liver, his stomach, all the while leaving the German in harsh convulsions, pain ebbing alarmingly fast as more and more blood poured out of him with each new injury his body absorbed. With a giggle, Ivan leaned over Ludwig's broken body and curiously lapped at the glistening blood welling up slowly around his hand, tasting the sweet, irony substance.
Ludwig was struggling to remain conscious as Ivan prolonged his agony and suffering. He was so overcome with cold, exhaustion and a near full body agony, though the pain was leaving with the increasing chill, that he was only able to cry silently and whimper. His brain was shutting down the majority of his cognitive abilities, desperately trying to protect his mental psyche His heart thundered away in his broken, mangled chest, sporadic and fluctuating, and his lungs fought for air. If all was silent, air could be heard leaking and hissing out of the holes in his lungs and out the multiple wounds across his ribs and chest. A feeble cough wracked his body, flecks of blood joining with mucus.
Ivan finally finished playing with the varies organs inside of Ludwig's abdomen and patted his cheek affectionately with a gore coated hand. "You are not looking well Luddy. Maybe we should continue playing tomorrow, da That way you can be more awa-" He broke of with a curious frown as a knock sounded on the door. He hummed softly as he scooped up the now unconscious Ludwig in his arms and deposited him on the couch before going to the door, blood soaked and Nazi garbed. "Alfred? It is nice to be seeing you. How are missile thin- Who else is being with you? You have brought friends! Matthias, Lukas. I haven't seen you two in a while, da?There are more?" He stopped talking with a frown, his cheerful attitude towards his visitors slowly disappearing. "Antonio... Arthur..." He said, growing immediately suspicious. "And Elizabeta and Gilbert too. I am understanding now. You are here for the Ge-"
"Enough of that. We've come to talk." Alfred said, standing up straight and proud as he addressed the Russian. "We all have seen the way you treated Gilbert and, judging by your appearance..." The American trailed off, fighting back a shudder as his eyes refused to leave the blood splattered uniform. "We aren't trying to pick a fight, if we were I would have launched my missiles, and you know it. We're simply here to kindly ask you release Ludwig, seeing as you have taken such poor care of prisoners in the past." The blonde nation was struggling to stay diplomatic, wanting nothing more than to forcibly remove Ludwig from him now that he knew the German's fate was of one similar to Gilbert's.
None of them missed the flash of anger that passed through the Russian's lavender eyes, nor did they over look the way he rather quickly moved outside on the porch ad shut the door after him, blocking their views to inside the house. "We had come to an agreement. They are telling you the whole story, da? They are telling you the reason I have the German instead of his brother, are because they came to be taking Gilbert from me?" He demanded, eyes accusing as they roamed over the furious looking albino.
Matthias adjusted his weight until he was leaning more towards Gilbert, protective though not out right threatening, and as he did so he could feel little stirs of magic sparking from Lukas at his side, the smaller man's eyes training on the Russian, probably more prepared to stop Ivan from attacking than any of the others. Matthias glanced back at his Norwegian with an approving grin before looking back at their enemy. "We know, Ivan. We also know how you beat Gilbert though. That's not what we all agreed to." The Dane said firmly. "We also never said anything about keeping my neighbor prisoner. Can we have him back? I miss my drinking partner." He said with a grin, receiving a rather powerful smack to the back of the head, given by Lukas.
"Nyet! He agreed to st-" True, terrifying fury washed over Ivan's features as he caught sight of someone at the back of the group. He forced past everyone in his way until he stood face to face with a rather quiet, sad looking Canadian. "Mattvie... I was expecting this from all of them. I was expecting them to try to come and forcably remove the German, breaking our agreement... But I was thinking you of all people would be standing behind me. I wasn't expecting it from you... Not my sunflower..."
Matthew's soft purple eyes looked up at Ivan, pleading and apologetic. "Will you please just listen to what they have to say? You're hurting people... They just want you to stop hurting people... That's all." He said in as unoffending of a tone as he could manage, a small smile on his face. "Please Ivan?"
Ivan's eyes darkened further and it took all of his control not to backhand his little Canadian. With exceeding patience that none of the others, save Matthew, got to see he met the other's soft eyes with a frown. "You are having three minutes, Mattvie. Why should I release Luddy? He agreed to stay with me in return for Antonio, Arthur, Elizabeta, Lovino and is little Italian's freedom. Tell me why I should be giving him back." He growled, glaring down at Matthew for a moment before his eyes softened as he caught sight of the Canadian's trembling as he cowered under the weight of his stare. "I'm sorry, my Mattvie. Please... Be continuing now." He said with a sigh, sending a challenging glare around the other nations, daring them to speak.
Matthew smiled slightly, despite his fear of Ivan's anger. "Well... I'm sure it wouldn't be as big of a problem if you weren't hurting people... But you are, and that isn't ok. It is worrying some of the other nations, especially with you being as strong as you are and... Well we all saw what you did to Gilbert and Elizabeta and..." He trailed off, lowering his gaze and flinching away as Ivan glared down at him again, his anger nearly tangible in the air.
"Nyet! He's staying here! He is deserving ever punishment I throw at him, da? Are you all forgetting what he's done? So soon after the destruction of so many? If what I am doing is upsetting some of you, who is to be caring? Who is to be stopping me? That's right. None of you are doing anything but talking! So how bad are you wanting Ludwig back?" He taunted, smacking Matthew across the face with enough force to send the man sprawling. A spark of regret flashed in his eyes as he watched Matthew hit the ground, cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry." Matthew whispered, wanting to get up and hug his Russian, though he didn't. Instead he just stayed pressed against the ground, knowing not to even bother trying to move, for fear he'd anger Ivan even more.
Alfred wasn't having such problems. He took a few steps forward, forgetting his resolve not to strike Ivan when he watched what the man did to his brother. Had it not been for Arthur wrapping restraining arms around him, he would have blown it all by tackling Ivan to the ground and pounding in his face.
"Calm down, pet. A battle may be inevitable by the time this is over, but you don't need to start it." Arthur whispered softly, green eyes firm. "You listened to me once, find it in you to listen again."
The American knew without a doubt he was stronger than the Englishman, but the presence of him was enough to remind him that by touching Ivan would prove dangerous for more people than just him. "You're lucky, Braginski, that there are more logical people here!" Alfred spat, a dark, murderous expression on his usually overly confident, cheerful face.
Ivan just giggled darkly, the sound chilling all of their spines. "I think it is time for you all to be going. We are not getting anywhere talking, and you aren't going to be getting the Germ-" Ivan was cut off by a blood chilling scream of pure fury, horror and fear. No one had even seen the small Italian slip past Ivan and reopen the door.
Feliciano had gone to find Ludwig inside the house for himself. Even if he wasn't strong enough to take him with, he could still reassure the blonde German man that everything was going to be ok and help was trying to reach him. He hadn't had to go very far to find the German. The couch the unconscious near dead man had been laid down on was visible from just inside the door. Everyone watched as the Italian trembled violently, picking up one of, Ludwig's hands in his. "You... Y-You bastard." He managed to choke out after a moment. His normal warm brown eyes dead, void of all emotion save a beast like rage. "You BASTARD!" He screamed, voice sounding livid.
Gilbert ran inside after the Italian, half expecting the bloodied Russian to try to stop him. Ivan tough, had realized at this point there was no point in hiding Ludwig from them anymore. One of them had seen him already. At first Gilbert didn't understand why Feliciano had screamed bloody murder, and was bewildered by the usually gentle man's rage, but then he came across the couch the broken, bleeding form of his little brother. He stared, uncomprehendingly, at his brother's form, his brain refusing to process what he was seeing. That couldn't be Ludwig! Ivan had him somewhere else. Ja.. That was it. Ludwig was safe somewhere, not lying dead on this couch. Mein bruder can't be dead. He can't be! Gilbert screamed internally to himself, and had the room not gone dead silent enough for him to hear the air hissing from inside his little brother's chest, he would have given himself over to Ivan to beg for death. "L-Ludwig!" He choked out, collapsing beside the younger German as what little strength he had managed to obtain drained out of him, his crimson eyes finally gaining the broken light Ivan had been trying to get from them the entire time he had been captured.
No one else had moved from the front porch, terrified of what they would find, even if they all were able to guess what it was, or rather, who it was. The only person who was able to move after a minute of fuming, was surprisingly Feliciano. He marched outside and got right up in a startled looking Ivan's face. Uncharacteristically fearless, he spat on the man and shoved him back, though the Russian had a good fifty pounds on him. "You. Are. Dead." He whispered in a deadly voice, fury rolling off him in waves. All eyes trained on the tawny haired man, Matthias and Antonio, both with axes raised, waiting for Ivan to strike, Arthur had a gun out, where it came from wasn't entirely clear, Alfred, similar to Arthur, held a handgun. Lukas all but glowed green, his eyes completely white as he stared down, humming with power. Even Elizabeta had her frying pan out in her hands. The only one not openly prepared to strike was Matthew.
Ivan, rather than looking threatened, just looked faintly amused. "Kolkolkol. You can't be killing me, little one. I am a nation, and a strong one at that, and nations are very hard to be killing." Ivan chuckled darkly. "Even little Luddy won't be dying... At least, he shouldn't be. He'll be surviving.. I think."
Feliciano's eyes flashed dangerously as he drew closer to the Russian again. "Who said I was going to kill you now?" He snapped, a cruel smirk on his normally so innocent face. "You think Nazi's are bad, soviet? You just wait. The Resistenza will wipe out your people, your crimson spot of destruction. Ivan Braginski, consider this war. Italy, both North and South, are declaring war on the Soviet Union." He snarled, radiating confidence and defiance. Somehow he managed to capture his German's commanding power easily, something that impressed even all of the old powerhouses, Antonio, Arthur and Matthias. Alfred looked satisfied, a ghost of a smile on his face at the Italian's spunk. Without another backwards glance, Feliciano stalked away, shoulders pulled back, stiff and strong. He had a war to prepare for.
A great commotion broke out as the others grinned, laughing at the irritation in Ivan's eyes. Though a battle wasn't ideal, they would all help. How could they not after everything? Antonio and Arthur quickly followed after Feliciano, knowing he'd need help rallying his people, as well as needing to gather their own while Lukas let out his gathered energy in a burst of green, shattering the side of the house with a satisfied nod. Ivan didn't try to stop them as they too turned and ran off, heading back to their family to prepare as well. Elizabeta, in the end followed after Antonio and Arthur, stopping once she hit the trees to wait for Gilbert. This war... It could kill them all. Alfred lifted his blue eyes to meet Ivan's, a taunting smirk on his face. "You wanted a war, Braginski? You've got one. You can bet I won't try to stop them either." He said in a low voice. "Come on Mattie. We have things to..." But the American trailed off, confusion in his eyes when he didn't see his brother. Praying he already ran ahead, the American left as well.
Ivan laughed maniacally, completely not phased in the slightest by so many official declarations of war. He turned then to come face to face with another livid person, this one a considerably bigger threat to him than any of the others. "Get out of here Gilbert. Go while I still let you. Go prepare for your petty war. You should be hoping I don't kill your brother before you have a chance to strike." He purred, arrogant and already expecting to win.
"You can count on the remainder of the SS forces, and my Prussian soldiers to aid the Resstenza. Doing this to me was one thing. I can live with getting the crap beaten from me but gott verdammt, doing it to my brother is entirely different. You hurt him, and I will never forgive you for it. No one hurts mein kleiner bruder. If Feliciano doesn't kill you, you can be sure that I will." He threatened, voice soft and void of life, similar to his eyes. "I never wanted a war, but you've left us no choice." Gilbert said, already sounding exhausted as he left through the trees, jumping as Elizabeta wordlessly appeared beside him.
"It'll be ok Gilbert. It'll be ok. We'll get him..." She promised, pulling him into a fierce hug and kissing his cheek. Once she pulled back, she took his hand and lead the way through the trees, back to where they could hop the wall to head back to West Germany.
Gilbert sighed, half the journy back a blur. All the while, his thoughts turned to the battle before them. You want a war Feliciano... Gott... You sure picked one hell of an enemy...
So... Who's excited for the next chapter? Me too. Reviews? :)