I'm going to be a heckuva lot less active now that school started. All the AP classes I piled onto this year are going to come back to kick my ass up and down the grading scale ;n;
I'm losing interest in this story, but it will be completed if it's the last thing I do. Also, I really enjoyed planning this chapter (less so writing it), which means hold on to your feels. And also probable excessive sadism.
Review! :D
I am not in my cell.
Even before waking fully, he knew that. It just felt different all around. The cool of air of the cell was replaced with the colder air of here, wherever that was.
China desperately wanted to open his eyes, escape from the murderer lurking in that darkness. There were aliens around them, and he focused on their clacking talk. Anything but what waits for me.
He wondered if he was supposed to be unconscious at that time. He'd sustained quite a few injuries in the bloodbath the aliens had dealt after the phone call, and more than one of those had been a sting.
But the pain was dulled as he hovered just away from consciousness. China could float there forever, but just beyond a pale gray border was darkness.
The murderer killed them all. First was Japan, and then South Korea in a mad flight from the aliens. The murderer had gotten him, too, and strung those obnoxious, affectionate brown eyes on a cat-o-nine-tails. When he flicked the leather, the eyes squelched horribly against his back as he ran, lungs burning.
In the maze under the red sky, he found Taiwan. A child, but oddly enough, this didn't strike him as strange. Haven't I always wished for my siblings to be young again? In this nowhere land, at least a single positive thing will come from it. Curled up and hiding, splashed with blood, she was a pitiful sight.
Surely you won't abandon your precious little sister? came the hissing poison of the murderer. Of course not, he replied. She's family.
China stopped, gasping raggedly, and touched Taiwan's shoulder. The frightened girl curled up tighter, but opened one eye over her left shoulder, recognized him, and flew into his arms, sobbing incoherently. "My legs, they hurt, gege..." he made out, and when he glanced at them, they seemed awfully twisted out of shape, all bent in the wrong direction.
"I'll be careful," he promised, and scooped her into his arms, taking a moment to kiss her on the forehead. Rage lit in his chest. How dare he do this? To an innocent child, as well... But instead of turning and striking his revenge into the approaching specter, he used it as fuel to power his exhausted legs. "Gege will make it better."
"Oh, I'm sure gege will," sniped the murderer, who'd managed to catch up with him. "Right after little Tai gets her eyes carved out."
Taiwan whimpered and buried her face in the folds of China's robe, fists clenched for all she was worth.
"You'll never get her, aru," said China bravely, eyes darting about for escape. However, in this ruined sunset city, it seemed as if he'd found a dead end.
The murderer, now smug in his victory, snapped the cat around his head. The new trinkets of his glittered in the sun, oozed sickeningly as they splattered on the walls. The eyes and the bits of metal that normally adorned such a weapon made a strange jingling rhythm as it was switched back and forth. The murderer's shadow danced on China's feet.
There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. The murderer knew this dream-haze like the back of his hand, and he'd herded the panicked nation right into a trap. The exit to the faded alley was blocked by his imposing figure and his fleshy whip, and the yellow sky smiled at him.
The sky. Up. The alley was narrow enough...
"Hold on, aru," he whispered. In a move he hadn't had to use since his days as a ninja, he sprang at a slim angle, rebounding off the walls and skipped onto the rooftop. Now more than fifteen feet off the ground, he was skidding along the skyline of this infinite ruined city. The murderer's howl of rage followed him as he went.
Taiwan watched the world go by, eyes changing from fear to the roundness of wonder while her carrier clattered down the sloped tops, leaped gaps that seemed impossible. The girl seemed not to hear the distorted, angry screech that clawed at China's sanity. He was tired, even more so now that he was carrying the (admittedly light) bundle his sister made in his arms, but fear and brotherly protection kept his legs pumping until even that frenetic energy deserted him.
The next jump he made brought him down to earth, and he stumbled into one of the towering mounds of trash and decomposing corpses. His ankle hurt, but felt usable enough.
"Are you okay?" He turned worridly to Taiwan, who was clinging to his knees and giggling, legs folded carefully under her. "Wo xi huan fei!" She laughed and flapped her arms like a bird.
China smiled at the adorable view and enfolded her in a hug. "C'mon, we have to find something to drink, aru." His throat was a desert. The air rasped against it with sharp edges. "Remember what I taught you about dehydration?" Taiwan nodded vigorously and snuggled deeper into the safe cradle of his arms.
It wasn't long before China heard a sound besides his own dusty footsteps and the wind wrapping around the ruins of buildings. It likely wasn't the murderer, as that nightmarish being, strangely enough, made no sound. It was more of a clacking, like tiles being jostled against each other.
"What's that, gege?" Taiwan looked into his face.
"I'm not entirely sure, aru." Feeling a sudden spurt of fear, he knelt and, scooping quickly, carved out a little niche in the side of one of the mounds of garbage that rose up like hills, almost taller than the worst of the buildings. It wasn't the cleanest or best shelter, but it seemed sturdy enough, not likely to crumble and send more refuse sliding over her in an avalanche. "Hide here, and be a quiet little mouse, aru," he instructed her.
The little nation got it, and she put a finger to her lips. China helped her compact her twisted legs into the nest, and once settled, she didn't move, only her trusting brown eyes tracking his movements. "You will come back, gege?"
"Of course I will, aru. I promise."
With that, he constructed a smallish sort of screen to hide her location, and then, looking over his shoulder at her one more time, set off to find the source of the ominous sound. It didn't take a great, either. There was a narrow space of sandy dirt between the dramatic topography of garbage, and with nowhere else to go, he followed that trail for about five minutes and stopped short.
There was a flagpole aimed like a rocket at the orange sky. There was also a skeleton, or perhaps a reduced human, hanging from it. A light breeze stirred the bones, making the clacking sound he'd become acclimatized to. Flesh and skin and clothing was tattered and sagging in great gashes, and there was a visible dent on the side of the skull in the shape of-
China heard the swoosh an instant before he saw the pipe and was already ducking, and perhaps that's what saved his life. The silvery blur whisked overhead, close enough for him to feel the wind of its passage.
He sprang around, exhausted muscles complaining, and faced the murderer, who smiled benignly. "Did you miss me?"
"Like hell I did, aru!" spat China, groping around behind him in the hopes of finding some sort of weapon. His fingers closed over the handle of a familiar shape - a wok.
Snarling, he suddenly leapt, swinging the wok with enough force to decapitate the murderer. He likely would have if it wasn't for the other's quick reflexes.
Coming out of the crouch, the murderer frowned, not expecting this turn of events. The dream-world wasn't supposed to swing in China's favor. He lashed the cat several times, jerking it this way and that so the shards of glass flailed every which way.
The Asian nation easily avoided the majority of these swipes, though a few caught in his robe, one cut his hand (and the surprise of that made him drop the wok), and one strip snapped and embedded itself in the skin above his eye. "Aiyaa," he hissed, and considered ripping the offending piece off. But then, blood would flow even more, and his vision would be impeded enough to turn the fight back in the murderer's favor.
The murderer's face curved into a smile. He was winning again. He remembered an event that had occurred only a few minutes ago, and smiled wider.
While China was dealing with the strap dangling above his eye, the murderer reached into his bloodstained jacket and pulled out a bottle. The liquid inside sloshed gently.
China's head jerked up, the broken stub of leather or whatever it was flapping over his head. Water? he thought fleetingly. Is it really? It was in his enemy's hands, though, so he'd never get it. His hope guttered out, and as if sensing that, the bottle and its tantalizing contents was slowly swung back and forth, amplifying the sloshing sounds. It was a thin bottle, tall, with a tapered neck and nearly black glass. China could just see the outline of the water lapping against the sides.
The fact that the water was not his made his throat burn all the more harshly.
"Thirsty?" asked the murderer gaily, and China mutely shook his head. He would not accept anything from this...this monster. "Cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài!" he coughed rebelliously, though his will was being eroded by the presence of the water. His vehement refusal somehow turned into a nod. (What are you doing? Just a second ago, he was trying to kill you, and now he's offering you water? What exactly does he want?)
"Have some," said the murderer generously, and produced a cup. He tilted the long neck of the bottle and the water came out slowly, then all at once.
Except it wasn't water. It was some sort of darkly-colored liquid. Probably alcoholic, knowing who this murderer was based off of. (Except, is that world of nations really the true world? Is this opponent based off of Russia, or is Russia based off of him?) (shut up). "Why are you giving this to me?"
Even if it's alcoholic, it'll still wet my throat a little as long as I don't drink too much. And assuming that this wasn't poisoned. The murderer pushed the cup towards him, having conveniently pulled out the remains of a table from the garbage. "Out of the kindness of my heart. Now, drink."
China didn't touch it, his previous thoughts about poison resurfacing." Did you-"
"Poison it? No!" He clapped a gloved hand to his chest. "You wound me. I swear on my life that it is not."
"Your life isn't worth much to me, aru," China growled, but reached for the cup, not taking his eyes off the other.
The smell hit him hard. Like rusty pennies or a wagon left in the rain, an inherently metallic scent that he recognized all too well. He stared into the cup in horror. Of course it wasn't some sort of wine, idiot, I should've know this situation better by now.
It was blood.
(of course.)
The murderer's smile seemed to nearly split his face, and he was at the nation's side in an instant. "Drink up!" he urged, holding China's head in place and wrapping sticky fingers around China's on the cup. "It's good for you!"
The Asian nation managed to lash out and shove the murderer away with his free hand. Blood slopped over the rim onto the scarf, and the murderer scowled before hauling the nation into the air by his throat. "Ah, you got blood on me." The murderer shook his head. "I thought you would've known better by now. That's a big no-no, do you agree?"
China nodded wildly. Anything for air.
The face attached to the hand suffocating him smiled. "Good."
A minute later, China was lying on the ground, scarf binding his limbs tightly, and a booted foot placed firmly on his stomach. He struggled futilely against the cloth and the pressure, but to no avail. He was securely trapped.
The murderer brought his face level with China's and said "It's time to refill the cup, да?" The strip was yanked out of his face. The blood did start flowing, and China felt the coolness of the class pressing against his forehead. His heart galloped in his chest. I'm terrified, aru...and I haven't been remotely close to this state of terror since WWII.
When the cup was half full, the murderer tasted it. His lips were stained a grotesquely bright red, like a vampire's. His teeth were, too, as he noticed when he opened his mouth to talk.
"Vintage four-thousand-year-old blood!" he singsonged. "Buy a glass now, just for ten rubles!" When no one showed, he frowned. "Nobody? Well, more for me, then."
When the cup was refilled a second time, he tried to spit on his assailant. There wasn't enough moisture left in his body, though, and the effort failed. The murderer drank deeply, and then smacked his lips like people in commercials. By then, the bleeding had died down to a trickle, and then to a stop. When the murderer finished, he sighed. "Ah, none for me, then."
Then, the dreaded two words; "Your turn."
China inhaled a lungful of air and sealed his lips while the cup was refilled, this time from the bottle. The murderer calmly turned around, cup in hand, and kicked him in the stomach. All the air went flying out in a convulsive gasp, and in that moment, the contents of the cup were emptied into his mouth.
He gagged and spluttered and tried to spit it out, but the murderer now covered his mouth firmly with one hand. The hot liquid swirled over his tongue until he thought he would choke.
But to breathe, I have to swallow.
And he did, choking back his revulsion and regret until the warmth seeping down his throat was gone. When the murderer released him, he hacked and spat until the taste was less noticeable. I just drank blood. China was expecting the murderer to finish him then, while he was on hands and knees and this close to vomiting. But instead, the figure he'd learned to hate stepped back and said simply, "Can't handle this blood, can you?" The scarf, which was already hanging off of the Asian nation's body, was ripped out of his grasp and hung in the typical fashion.
"Now, I'll give you a brief reprieve." He smiled and lifted the half-empty bottle to his lips.
China got to his feet, eyes straying towards the wok. If it was any other time, any other circumstance, he might've gone for it. The only thing keeping him from that weapon was the thought of his younger sister, and the other, barely surfacing one - If I have found some of my siblings here, then there may be others, and I have to protect them from this irrational reality as well.
He turned on his heel and fled through the towering heaps of trash. From the corner of his eye, they looked like bodies.
It only took him moments to find the place he'd hidden Taiwan, and he called "You can come out now. It's me, aru."
An ominous silence met his ears, broken only by the old clattering he'd gone out to investigate in the first place. "...Taiwan?" His heart beat faster, and he clawed at the trash. With seemingly no provocation, the gash over his eye reopened, and half-blinded with his own blood, he found the little nest.
Instead of his precious baby sister, there was a pair of socketless brown eyes, the same that had looked at him so trustingly minutes ago. They sat stickily on a little dish, and propped against that dish was a note that simply read "Thirsty?"
Translation derp: Ge ge - Older brother. (哥哥)
Wo xi huan fei! - I like flying!
cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài - fuck your ancestors back to the eighteenth generation
Those should be accurate, unless I screwed up. Which is likely.