Red Patches White Robes (RussiaXPrussia)

Fear

In that single moment, I was feeling it, absolute fear. My body as in so much pain from even how hard my heart beat in my chest. Every pound like a shotguns ammunition grinding my organs. Even such a minor wound like a bite felt so amplified by his madness, the way he looked into my head. I was entranced by the blood in his teeth, horrified and locked into its gaze at me. He loved how my blood tasted in his mouth. Its disgusting. 

I went to speak but held back, whatever I say could hurt me even more, I was dreading anything that could happen. 

"Saying something?" He licked the blood from his teeth and looked at me closer.

I felt like I was worthless and defeated, I would do anything to escape him. He gravitated closer. 

"Funny I couldn't hear you?" As he got closer the stake of my own trauma was digging into my chest, deeper and deeper. 

His tone changed. "Speak up!" I shuddered and whispered, With any hopes of getting out of this place, and slight grasp of air. That my next chosen lies would aid my escape from his grasp.

"Thank you.." I whispered, avoiding eye contact. I could tell he was unimpressed. 

"Thank you? Did you like how I bit you? You must be insane huh." He began to laugh and stood back up.

"Don't fear me yet Prussia, just you wait." He went to leave but I stopped him mid way. 

"What do you mean?!" I yelled at him. He looked back with a smile on his face and gleamed. "Ask anyone." and with that, he was gone. I never felt that relief that I was expecting. Only the same fear I felt before.

I Climbed up to the sink and stumbled into it, grabbing hold of the cupboards. I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it aside. I looked into the mirror at it, it was so deep. He bit through my shirt. I threw open the cupboards and began digging for something, anything that could soothe this bite.

I grabbed onto a bottle of rubbing alcohol and just began pouring it down my back. It was stinging heavily and every rush of its liquids would burn and pain my body,. But anything hurt less than the pain of that memory. I needed it to hurt. 

As the bottle ran dry I shook it and threw it aside, finally wrapping my shoulder in bandage. 

I held my breath and left, running quietly to a place where no one could see me, or the blood on my back.