CrowHaven Oneshots/short stories

Crowhaven: the pit.

Teaser for my story, the pit.

A personal CountryHumans story featuring crowhaven, my oc. And (very) young nazi germany:

I guess this is an AU? Im making an AU...

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Crowhaven... didn't like doing this. He hated punishing people. It made him think about his father, especially working in this place. He had been hired by britain as a jailer, his large size and muscular build, making him perfect for the job. He grimaced, his face twisting. Just because he looked like he was good at it, didn't mean he enjoyed doing it. But the money was good- so he didn't complain too much.

The shrieks and moans from the other prisoners echoed through the halls. There was a reason this place was called hells pit. it was an underground facility, at least 5 levels down under the earth. The rattling of chains in the other cells didn't faze him anymore. The screams of agony from the prisoners. He hated to know these people were in pain… but these ‘people’ were hardly any people at all. They were here for a reason, he told himself. Only the worst countries were housed in the pit. Other prisoners were housed above, in the less brutal facility. 

Crowhaven walked through the hallway. His steel toe boots making his footsteps loud on the concrete. He was wearing his required uniform- a long, thick button up duster coat with the pits symbol on the back and arm. That was the only thing all guards had to wear. His legs were clad in army grade Cargo pants, pockets empty except for what he was required to carry.

He only wore a tanktop under the coat- it was fucking hot down here. 

Crowhaven was allowed to wear his ushanka, surprisingly. He was glad though. It hid his sensitive scars from people. His braided hair was tucked away inside. The tan fluff tickled his neck as he moved; The soft touches reminding him of home.

   

Crow stalked through the blistering hall, walking to the designated prisoner ‘observatory’. He was going to get his prisoner and take them back to there cell. He would stay with this prisoner until either he quit, or the prisoner was let go (or killed).

Crow sighed, he hated the system. But where he was he couldn't change anything. 

He knocked on the heavy mettle door, waiting to be let in.

The other guards were shorter than the crow, he towered over the majority of them, standing at 6’10. It’s probably why he didnt get fucked with down here. He looked scary as fuck. He awkwardly stood in the room with the smaller guards, waiting for orders.

There was a small cell in the room, covered in double sided mirrors. There was a teenage boy in there, dressed in camo pants and a black straight jacket, grey socks on his feet. He sat there, rocking back and forth on the white floor; harsh lights blaring down on him.

His head was hanging down, facing the floor. His soft looking red skin was covered in scars that went passed the coat caller.

The other guard were placing bets on who would get the boy, some talking about every perverted thing they would do in he was theirś. Crows face darkened. He hated his co-workers.

A loud buzzing noise went off and the boy panicked. He raised his head and wiped it around- eyes trying to see anything but his reflection. A thick black swastika inside a white circle patterned the boys face. Only one wide, white eye was there, the other an empty socket.

In the cell, was sitting nazi germany. 

A collective gasp echoed around the room, as the guards closely looked at the german.