Fair Trade - 2b REWRITE
anonymous
April 30 2011, 23:08:51 UTC
This time, with Kumajirou. I FAIL AT LIFE!
Canada shoved hard on the door, his breathing quick and frantic as he called for help.
Ivan pushed just as hard, grinning as he exerted himself to counter Canada's strength. Anyone else, any smaller nation - possibly even America under the right conditions - and Canada might have succeeded, but Russia was nearly twice the size of Canada (the country), and Ivan knew better how to use that strength.
Canada was thrown to the ground as Ivan shoved hard against the door, hitting his head on the side of an armchair. He tried to stand, but Ivan was in front of him before he recovered from the blow.
There was no warning when the small white bear that Ivan had nearly forgotten about launched itself at him, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. Ivan stumbled backwards as the bear tried to take a chunk out of his neck only to get a mouthful of Ivan's thick coat and ever-present scarf. Grabbing the bear by the scruff of its neck, Ivan held it away from him, batting at it with his pipe and ignoring its flailing claws. The bear wailed, its struggles increasing.
His coat shredded, and his arm bleeding, Ivan threw the animal at the wall, grimacing angrily. How had he forgotten to take the stupid bear into account - it wasn't like Canada went anywhere without it!
“Kuma!” Canada was standing near the door, holding the long, standing lamp in front of him defensively. He had been about to run, but now he watched his bear whimper and try to stand with horror in his eyes. Two of its legs were broken from the impact.
The distraction was all it took. Ivan rammed himself into the door, slamming it shut and blocking Canada's escape.
The wide, terrified look in Canada's eyes made way for anger, and Canada took the offensive, stabbing at Ivan as if his lamp was a spear. Ivan dodged it, moving for the crippled bear.
Canada didn't realize his intentions until it was too late, and the bear was in Ivan's arms, yowling and snapping ineffectively. One large hand engulfed the bear's skull, holding it still, while the other held his pipe across the bear's unprotected throat.
“Drop it,” Russia ordered, tightening his grip until the bear squealed in pain when Canada didn't move. “You want him back, yes?”
“Kuraji!” Canada's fingers left prints in the lamp's metal stand, before he let it fall. “Don't hurt him.”
“Why shouldn't I?”
Canada shook his head, his hand outstretched. “Just- please.”
Russia smiled viciously, and threw the bear at Canada, following close behind it.
His pipe connected with Canada's skull with a sickening crack, and the smaller nation collapsed, his bear rolling out of his arms. Ivan brought the pipe down several more times on his skull and torso; there would be no more mistakes. He only stopped when all of his anger and frustration at the break in his plans had been spent.
There was no heartbeat, not even the faintest pulse or breath, as Ivan knelt over the body, energy drained. He frowned, he hadn't meant to kill Canada, not yet. Then he shrugged it off, Canada would recover.
With fingers dipped in the boy's own blood (pooling on the floor around his shattered skull), Russia left a message for America on the white walls of Canada's hotel room. He wanted the cocky brat to know what he had caused, to know that his brother had died because of him, that his brother would suffer because of him. He wanted America to know that he had traded Lithuania's life for Canada's, and he wanted America to know why.
When he was done, he dragged the Canada's body onto the bed, throwing the still whimpering animal on top of it. Then he rolled them both up in the blanket, folding it nearly in half when he was done, and throwing it across his shoulders, leaving the door locked behind him as he left. Someone would find the message eventually, but not until Canada was hidden away where no one could find him.
Fair Trade - 2c
anonymous
April 30 2011, 23:11:45 UTC
With a light skip in his step, Russia took the elevator down to the lobby. He returned the receptionist's curious, frightened glance (no doubt she heard the enraged yowls and pained whines that were growing softer with every minute) with a cheerful smile before turning in his key card and making his way to the rental car he had parked outside.
Stashing the bundle in his trunk, Russia smiled, already envisioning the sight of America's angry, desperate face as the brat realized what he had done.
Revenge was sweet indeed.
And, HTML Failure. Today is not good for me. Thank you Reviewer!Anon who mentioned Kumajirou. I always forget him while I'm writing, even though I planned the story with him in the room. I'm an idiot. Yes, I killed Canada. But Russia was angry, and didn't quite mean to do it - knock him unconscious, yes; kill him, not really. But yes, there will be lots more Canada torture ahead. Can't you tell how much I love poor Canada I really do love him.
Kumafan anon! here
anonymous
May 1 2011, 00:16:38 UTC
Aw man, now I feel kinda bad for reminding you because poor Kuma suffered more. Though I have to admit I like that part more since a fight was put up. Stay strong Canada! We still love you! XD
It's okay author!anon. I see so many authors forgetting about Kumajiro that it's almost comical. I guess he's the "Canada" of the fandom. :x
Canada shoved hard on the door, his breathing quick and frantic as he called for help.
Ivan pushed just as hard, grinning as he exerted himself to counter Canada's strength. Anyone else, any smaller nation - possibly even America under the right conditions - and Canada might have succeeded, but Russia was nearly twice the size of Canada (the country), and Ivan knew better how to use that strength.
Canada was thrown to the ground as Ivan shoved hard against the door, hitting his head on the side of an armchair. He tried to stand, but Ivan was in front of him before he recovered from the blow.
There was no warning when the small white bear that Ivan had nearly forgotten about launched itself at him, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. Ivan stumbled backwards as the bear tried to take a chunk out of his neck only to get a mouthful of Ivan's thick coat and ever-present scarf. Grabbing the bear by the scruff of its neck, Ivan held it away from him, batting at it with his pipe and ignoring its flailing claws. The bear wailed, its struggles increasing.
His coat shredded, and his arm bleeding, Ivan threw the animal at the wall, grimacing angrily. How had he forgotten to take the stupid bear into account - it wasn't like Canada went anywhere without it!
“Kuma!” Canada was standing near the door, holding the long, standing lamp in front of him defensively. He had been about to run, but now he watched his bear whimper and try to stand with horror in his eyes. Two of its legs were broken from the impact.
The distraction was all it took. Ivan rammed himself into the door, slamming it shut and blocking Canada's escape.
The wide, terrified look in Canada's eyes made way for anger, and Canada took the offensive, stabbing at Ivan as if his lamp was a spear. Ivan dodged it, moving for the crippled bear.
Canada didn't realize his intentions until it was too late, and the bear was in Ivan's arms, yowling and snapping ineffectively. One large hand engulfed the bear's skull, holding it still, while the other held his pipe across the bear's unprotected throat.
“Drop it,” Russia ordered, tightening his grip until the bear squealed in pain when Canada didn't move. “You want him back, yes?”
“Kuraji!” Canada's fingers left prints in the lamp's metal stand, before he let it fall. “Don't hurt him.”
“Why shouldn't I?”
Canada shook his head, his hand outstretched. “Just- please.”
Russia smiled viciously, and threw the bear at Canada, following close behind it.
His pipe connected with Canada's skull with a sickening crack, and the smaller nation collapsed, his bear rolling out of his arms. Ivan brought the pipe down several more times on his skull and torso; there would be no more mistakes. He only stopped when all of his anger and frustration at the break in his plans had been spent.
There was no heartbeat, not even the faintest pulse or breath, as Ivan knelt over the body, energy drained. He frowned, he hadn't meant to kill Canada, not yet. Then he shrugged it off, Canada would recover.
With fingers dipped in the boy's own blood (pooling on the floor around his shattered skull), Russia left a message for America on the white walls of Canada's hotel room. He wanted the cocky brat to know what he had caused, to know that his brother had died because of him, that his brother would suffer because of him. He wanted America to know that he had traded Lithuania's life for Canada's, and he wanted America to know why.
When he was done, he dragged the Canada's body onto the bed, throwing the still whimpering animal on top of it. Then he rolled them both up in the blanket, folding it nearly in half when he was done, and throwing it across his shoulders, leaving the door locked behind him as he left. Someone would find the message eventually, but not until Canada was hidden away where no one could find him.
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Stashing the bundle in his trunk, Russia smiled, already envisioning the sight of America's angry, desperate face as the brat realized what he had done.
Revenge was sweet indeed.
And, HTML Failure. Today is not good for me.
Thank you Reviewer!Anon who mentioned Kumajirou. I always forget him while I'm writing, even though I planned the story with him in the room. I'm an idiot.
Yes, I killed Canada. But Russia was angry, and didn't quite mean to do it - knock him unconscious, yes; kill him, not really. But yes, there will be lots more Canada torture ahead. Can't you tell how much I love poor Canada I really do love him.
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It's okay author!anon. I see so many authors forgetting about Kumajiro that it's almost comical. I guess he's the "Canada" of the fandom. :x
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