Czech Republic—Rusalka [Deportations of Germans after World War II, 1945]
Rusalkas were once normal girls. Some kind, others difficult to put up with—but human after all, with their virtues and vices, with loved ones, and hopes and dreams. Until some bastard came and turned them into this.
Czechia had never considered herself a bad woman. True that there was blood on her hands but all nations had that in their conscience—it comes with being an entity which lives on money and land. She had tried to live peacefully, minding her own business all of her life and most of the time they didn't let her. There were countries out there who couldn't say they were better than she was.
Germany invading her, serving her territory to that Hungary bitch, all the things he did to her, she didn't deserve them. If she had done something to him in the past that would have justified such brutality, she would have at least understood, but this wasn't vengeance. She barely knew him. He was a quite young nation. She hadn't had the time to do anything to him. It was just that she had something he wanted and tried to erase her in order to acquire it.
Rusalkas could be scary, once their horrible actions made the pretty mask drop, but they were made that way. They trusted the wrong guy, or were too blind to see the danger behind a pair of gorgeous blue eyes and a Herculean figure. The people who encountered them were scared of them, but they had taken the worst part. They were the ones killed, turned into monsters, never able to reach peace, to move on, to reach Heaven.
Czechia wanted that, only that—peace of mind.
The war was over. The shots ceased, the cannons went quiet, those damned ovens stopped expelling a human ash rain, people could finally look at the skies without fearing bombs falling from it. Germany had been expelled and they promised her he would never go back, but his people were still in her land. They were still there, because they said this was their home...and they were not leaving.
The marks of his hands forcing her into the water as she drowned. Painful to look at. Making her wonder if it wouldn't happen again.
And Czechia revived everything again and again...
She often felt couldn't breathe...She felt like she was underwater again, she got that feeling of her life slipping away, every time she encountered one of those...merely thinking their dirty feet were stepping on her land...
She had to stop it. She had to drown those mementos of her tragedy.
She had to do away with all of them. All of them, it didn't matter who, or how!
He wanted her dead, didn't he? So why should she be kinder to his people?
Rusalkas were not monsters...Maybe there was a time when Czechia feared them, but now she understood them, and even started to look fondly at them...
Who could blame them for wanting their murderers to suffer what they did? It was their only way to finally rest in peace, who cared? Who cared about some rats dying?