Not much action in this one compared to the rest so you can count this as a cliff-hanger filler-mabob :P
I love you all~ Grazie to 'Cheary' for your support, hope to keep you happy~
Moer disclahmeer; I don't always own hetalia, but when I do I wake up and get annoyed at my alarm clock
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Chapter 3: A Slow and Painful Despair
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...…...
Why.
.
Why now.
.
Why did this happen. Did god think it was funny to spit on his path of life at every opportunity? In this world the 'crime' of trying to live cost you a chance at humanity. He knew this, everyone there new this, except he wept more silent tears then anyone else.
Because he had failed.
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When he woke up, his worst fears had come true. He had never been there before, but there was no mistaking the stench of rotten depression that trademarked the prison dungeons. His tired and bruised body felt heavy and Ludwig could barely feel the cold steel of the shackles around his arms and the chain ball around his foot. Solitary lights of the candles flickered against the shells of humans that hung from the walls, souls being sucked from them by a mixture of angst, anger, despair and guilt. The occasional cackle and scream could be heard, but it was clear that the other inmates had long since gotten used to it. The air felt damp and cold, only contributing to the rocky and wet walls and floors of the badly taken care of cells.
No-one talked. No-one looked around.
That is, until the warden came through. As soon as the sound of closing metal doors resounded throughout the hall, foul manners of all kinds spread like wildfire among the prisoners, soon followed by booming voices of guards.
"You Rotten F*ckers, Lemme out of here so I can-"
"Give me back my Knife and I'll Show you why They're Really Scared-"
"YOU *CENSOR*MORECENSOR*SOMUCHCENSOR*WELLTHAT'SRUDE*CENSOR*"
There was laughed and jeering and screeching, enough to burst a prisoner's eardrums. But it all ended when the warden smashed on the steel on the nearest cage, making a sound crash through the hall that could startle the deepest sleeper. Through the bars he could see that another poor thug was being brought in, dressed in the same rags and chains as everyone else. It was like they were all just objects to them.
Ludwig breathed a sigh full of heavy air. He will keep composed, he will not break. They won't be able to make him break.
Full of resilience, Ludwig tested the shackles, but they were strongly fixed to the wall. They might be breakable during a breakout, now all he had to do was hope there actually was one in his life time. He checked the ball and chain, the walls the bars – from what he could see. There was nothing else to do anyway, time passed so slowly so why not pray for the impossible.
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By the time the meals came, he could practically feel the disappointment in the air as colourless slop and murky water was placed in front of each prisoner. All hands were unshackled only to be re-shackled into more liberal chains. 30 minutes later all the plates were taken away and all prisoners were forced up against the walls again. Any kind of resistance lead to the cut of a spear on the face, resulting in many screams of the less polite prisoners. Ludwig grimaced, even at stone filled fish had better texture than whatever that was. The feeling of it sticking to his stomach mixed with the stuffy air and putrid smells and sounds was enough for him to predict himself holding back future vomit.
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It was impossible to even tell the time. Was it day? Was the moon full?
Ludwig decided to sleep where he was.
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Day after day, one week, two weeks, it began to be hard to keep track of time. The only thing that stood out of the misery, the moss and the cold, was one person. They came in every so often, followed by four guards, the warden, and a lone prisoner.
There were tell-tale signs to when it they would come. Light footsteps could be heard, along with some polite muttering that was not easy to hear. Just as the figure came into sight of the cells, a chorus of spits and hisses as well as shouting and screaming in language not suitable for many audiences filled the open space. As usual this would be calmed by the warden's shouting. However this person never shouted. They never looked scornfully onto the prisoners as they passed by, never looked insulted by the words of the damned.
They were always dressed in white, clashing dramatically with the scenery, almost as though they were bringing light to the darkness. So pleasant to Ludwig's dreary eyes. Every so often the muttering of the prisoners could be heard when the guards had passed. It wasn't until he had already begun to admire the person that Ludwig overheard something that made him whole-heartidly regret doing so.
"Oh great, it's him again."
"Back to send off another one."
"That Prince guy thinks he's so great. What I would give to bring him down with me."
The Prince? Him? That small figure dressed in robes was the Prince? All this time he had just been wondering in and out, posing as some kind of saint! Ludwig felt an all too familiar hatred boil through his blood.
The man in white left once more and Ludwig ignored the pity in his eyes. He only found it insulting now. He began to find it extremely hard not to join in the spitting and jeering of the other prisoners, but he still had his pride. He would not allow himself fall victim to his own hatred. Yet.
Another day passed, spent in deep thought and plotting. Finally it was time again for the visit and Ludwig could do nothing. With great difficulty he merely glared to the ground, not willing to humour the man with envy.
When the Prince returned among the roar of insults, he passed through as usual, not listening to the fronts of anger and denial being put up by the prisoners. However, this time was different. This time, he had just so happened to pass a glance at the cell with a large shadowy figure. This figure did not speak, or spit, or even look at him. It did not care for petty insults, or for the smallest of satisfaction of hurting him. When one of his personal guards urged him to continue on, he ignored him and instead stepped towards the cell. Even when the warden told him he must stay away for the sake of safety, the man dressed in white looked into the dark cave before him.
"What was this man's crime?" He asked simply, softly, quietly.
"He is just a petty thief milord," The warden replied politely, "no-one of importance; you should not concern yourself with him."
Despite continuous requests, still he gazed sadly upon the lone prisoner. Finally, he asked for permission to enter. After a slight bit of argument and quite a bit of regret the warden opened the door. The man in white stepped in, followed by a single guard.
The shadow could feel the other man's gaze on him, but still refused to look up. He refused to see the kind smile placed upon his lips, and the gentle look in his eyes. "Hello there." The voice was light and innocent, almost captivating. "Would you tell me your name?"
The shadow still remained silent. Only the rising and lowering of his chest would indicate his existence.
"Prisoner! You will answer when being spoken to!" The guard barked violently, but the man gave a look to him that asked him to not be so mean. He scowled, but obliged.
The man walked forward slowly, and instead of looking down onto Ludwig, he knelt so that he was beneath him.
"You are different." Ludwig remained emotionless but the man still smiled in response. "How would you like to come home with me?"
Hazaah Ludwig has been saved! Now about the next chapter...
I'm having a little trouble finding the time to write these things now, with school and sleep and ugh XS
So next chapter might be a weekish late and maybe even the next one after will be too, sorry guys :(
(PS the dots are like, gaps, in the story, or in the mind, or sometin. peace.)