Empire

Chapter 35

England's POV:

I was able to talk to Italy for a while. I had been pondering quite a few strange things, but talking to Italy really made me feel better. I noticed he had a chain around his ankle as he walked around the kitchen.

The sound the chain made against the tiles as it dragged was the only thing that made me tense. Other than that, Italy was quite delightful and he even made me a sandwich.

"So, how are you adjusting to all this?" Italy asked as he walked over the sink to wash up some dishes.

'It's horrible. I can't stand it," I said honestly.

"I know how you feel." Italy nodded.

"Let alone what you have been through. You are chained to the kitchen," I pointed out.

"I have you where the chain for three days for interfering with France's punishment," He said.

"Things are really strict here," I muttered.

"Shush, someone is coming, get under the bench," Italy ordered. I did as he said and hid under the bench. I watched as two frantic legs ran into the kitchen and passed by me.

"Ukraine, what are you going here?" Italy asked.

"Out of my way! Now!!" Ukraine shouted loudly, I watched as Italy was shoved out of the way.

"Ukraine, what are you doing?"

"Arming myself! He is coming for me!" Ukraine sounded panicked.

"Mr Ukraine, please put down the knife. Who is coming for you?" Italy asked.

"Who do you think!?! Canada, he is coming for- uh... no, not again," Ukraine mumbled.

I crawled out from under the bench and saw Ukraine desperately holding his hands over his face. Not just his mouth or eyes, but his whole face. In the process of this, he still had the knife in his hand and I noticed it was cutting into his face.

Italy went to grab the knife off of Ukraine, but it only caused Ukraine to cut his face worse. But at least he wasn't holding the knife anymore. Ukraine ran over to the sink that was still full of dirt dishes.

Ukraine removed his hands from his face and a glowing greenish liquid began dripping from his face, along with small swirls of blood from the cut.

Italy and I backed up a little, just watching Ukraine begin to vomit into the sink.

"Stop doing this to me!! I told you I understand!!!" He shouted as he finished. He seemed to be talking to himself.

"Are- are you okay?" I asked. I was a little more than concerned for him.

"Don't come near me! I'm radioactive!" He shouted. He turned around and surely enough, what seemed to be radiation that dripped into his hand. He held his other hand up to his left cheek.

"Uh, what do we do?" Italy asked.

"Don't let Canada see," He muttered. He suddenly opened one of the drawers and pulled out another knife. He then promptly left.

Italy and I were left to just process what happened.

Papua New Guinea's POV:

I entertained myself by throwing a small piece of rubber I had found on the floor. I enjoyed the unpredictableness of which way the rubber would bounce when thrown against a wall.

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door, I couldn't be bothered repositioning myself for the new company, I was already comfortable leaning against the wall. Holding the piece of rubber in my hand, I watched the handle.

When the door handle turned and the door opened, I threw the piece of rubber hitting America in the face.

America closed the door behind him and drew a gun, loading it in front of me and then pointing it against my head. Over the years of being in captivity, I was used to this kind of treatment and wasn't fazed by it now.

"Hey, how may I help you?" I asked with a smug on my face.

"Where did you get this arm?" He asked.

"The arm, so you want the explanation," I said.

"Answer me!" America demanded.

"The arm belongs to my leader. He is the current leader of our rebellion fighting against the Empire," I explained.

"Lies! You are a grave robber. Tell me the truth!" He commanded, pushing the gun right up against my head.

"I am telling the truth! He is alive! He never died!" I said a little more frantically, worried that America would actually shoot me.

"I said the truth!" He said again. I watched as his finger tightened on the trigger.

"I told you! Why would I lie about this?" I added.

"I... I don't know," America lowered his gun.

"Look, I'm not your enemy here, but there are several enemies within these walls that are reporting every action you make," I said, hoping that I could earn his trust a little more.

"How do you know?"

"I spent a large portion of the last year I was in the vents and could spy on everything from within," I explained.

"And you know who they are?"

"Yes, but I can't tell you. I'm at a stalemate with one of them and my life is on the line as well as my entire rebellion,"

"Some help you are," He muttered.

Behind his hardened eyes, I could see fear. It was kind of funny but I knew better than to point this out. He always portrayed himself as someone strong and rich, but everyone knew he was always filled with paranoia and a lack of general trust.

I watched as he put the gun back in his holster and turned to leave. He must have noticed I saw his fear. Before he left, he picked up the piece of rubber I threw at him before and threw it back at me, hitting me in the forehead.

"Before you go, I like your tie," I smiled. I watched as America looked down at his shirt to see what tie he was wearing only to realise he wasn't wearing one.

"Ha, got ya," I smiled.

"You got me," He smiled back as he shut the door.