Taste of Revenge [6/?]
anonymous
June 11 2009, 05:02:02 UTC
“Let me go now or I’ll- I’ll consider this an act of war against USA!”
“See?” Francis sighed. He was still sitting, just enjoying the show “It’s always the same story, isn’t it? Someone doesn’t act the way you want? Let’s invade. More expenses, and more of your- what was it? Non-interference, right, America?”
“That’s not true!” - screaming wasn’t going to solve this. Alfred tried to be calm, reasonable. Speak like an adult, they’ll listen, they’ll respect you - “And this, this is a breach of every international treaty and you know it, so let me go and let’s discuss this like-”
“Discuss” Russia giggled, his hand reaching Alfred’s neck “But you don’t like discussions, America. You like to talk. But you don’t like to listen, da? Just be listened to.”
He was closing his hand around Alfred’s throat, and then- then Arthur was at Alfred’s right holding his arm, and Francis wasn’t sitting anymore, he was holding his left arm and Ivan was squeezing his neck, covering Alfred's mouth with his free hand. Alfred tried to fight them but he couldn’t pull his arms, tried to kick them but he couldn’t reach, and then Ivan’s hand was also covering his nose.
He couldn’t breath. He tried to scream, to bite the gloved hand, he tried- please, he thought, please Arthur-
Ivan raised his hand. Alfred coughed:
“You- son of a-”
Ivan covered his mouth, and Alfred had the time to try a muffled scream before his breathing was cut off again. Ivan’s hand was so big, and he thought- torture technique, nothing I haven’t done before, I can take this. I can take it God please Arthur please please-
He was starting to see flashes of light when Ivan opened a small space between his fingers, but the relief lasted less than half a second. Alfred was suffocating again. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore, he though he was kicking and trashing but it felt like moving underwater, slow, uncoordinated, and the only thing he could do was look at Arthur, beg with his eyes, and he heard the other nation as if he was very, very far away:”
“Ivan, don’t kill him-”
“Don’t worry, I’m just making him lightheaded.”
Arthur and Francis had released his arms, but Alfred barely registered the fact. Ivan gave him one more second of air, and then blocked his breath again, and the only thing Alfred could do was hang in his arms, limp like a rag doll, screaming inside his own head. Ivan did the same thing again, and again, and again, and- Alfred didn’t know how many times, and every time he though he was going to pass out or die or go insane Ivan would stop, only to start all over again.
“I think that’s enough,” Arthur finally, finally said “You can lay him down.”
Thank God thank God thank you please thank you- Ivan let go of his neck, let go of his mouth and nose and Alfred had never felt so relieved in his life. He took a deep breath, mouth open to take as much air as possible, afraid it would start again, but now Ivan was holding his shoulders, laying him down carefully on the floor.
Arthur was arranging his legs, and Alfred had the vague though he should kick him, but he wouldn’t be able even if he wanted to. And the only thing he wanted to do was to breath. Even if he had to spend the rest of his life like this, laying on the floor with his head on Ivan’s knees, if he could only-
“Did you rest enough?” the Russian asked, his singsong voice sounding out of place “Ready for the next round?”
And in the next second he was suffocating again, Ivan’s huge hand covering his mouth and Alfred wanted to cry, he wanted to scream not again please please not again please-
Arthur frowned.
“Cut it out, he’ll move too much and end up hurting himself.
“He’s barely moving at all,” Ivan said, but he released his nose. He kept his hand over Alfred’s mouth, though.
“Right. So. Where are the scissors?” Arthur asked.
Scissors? Alfred saw the silver glint in Arthur’s hand, and then he felt the British’s hand touching his groin, and he found the strength to at least try to kick him, eyes wide open in sheer terror.
“Oh for God’s sake, America, don’t be such a baby” - Arthur waved, and Francis came to hold one of his legs, someone - Ludwig - holding the other “I won’t cut you!”
“See?” Francis sighed. He was still sitting, just enjoying the show “It’s always the same story, isn’t it? Someone doesn’t act the way you want? Let’s invade. More expenses, and more of your- what was it? Non-interference, right, America?”
“That’s not true!” - screaming wasn’t going to solve this. Alfred tried to be calm, reasonable. Speak like an adult, they’ll listen, they’ll respect you - “And this, this is a breach of every international treaty and you know it, so let me go and let’s discuss this like-”
“Discuss” Russia giggled, his hand reaching Alfred’s neck “But you don’t like discussions, America. You like to talk. But you don’t like to listen, da? Just be listened to.”
He was closing his hand around Alfred’s throat, and then- then Arthur was at Alfred’s right holding his arm, and Francis wasn’t sitting anymore, he was holding his left arm and Ivan was squeezing his neck, covering Alfred's mouth with his free hand. Alfred tried to fight them but he couldn’t pull his arms, tried to kick them but he couldn’t reach, and then Ivan’s hand was also covering his nose.
He couldn’t breath. He tried to scream, to bite the gloved hand, he tried- please, he thought, please Arthur-
Ivan raised his hand. Alfred coughed:
“You- son of a-”
Ivan covered his mouth, and Alfred had the time to try a muffled scream before his breathing was cut off again. Ivan’s hand was so big, and he thought- torture technique, nothing I haven’t done before, I can take this. I can take it God please Arthur please please-
He was starting to see flashes of light when Ivan opened a small space between his fingers, but the relief lasted less than half a second. Alfred was suffocating again. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore, he though he was kicking and trashing but it felt like moving underwater, slow, uncoordinated, and the only thing he could do was look at Arthur, beg with his eyes, and he heard the other nation as if he was very, very far away:”
“Ivan, don’t kill him-”
“Don’t worry, I’m just making him lightheaded.”
Arthur and Francis had released his arms, but Alfred barely registered the fact. Ivan gave him one more second of air, and then blocked his breath again, and the only thing Alfred could do was hang in his arms, limp like a rag doll, screaming inside his own head. Ivan did the same thing again, and again, and again, and- Alfred didn’t know how many times, and every time he though he was going to pass out or die or go insane Ivan would stop, only to start all over again.
“I think that’s enough,” Arthur finally, finally said “You can lay him down.”
Thank God thank God thank you please thank you- Ivan let go of his neck, let go of his mouth and nose and Alfred had never felt so relieved in his life. He took a deep breath, mouth open to take as much air as possible, afraid it would start again, but now Ivan was holding his shoulders, laying him down carefully on the floor.
Arthur was arranging his legs, and Alfred had the vague though he should kick him, but he wouldn’t be able even if he wanted to. And the only thing he wanted to do was to breath. Even if he had to spend the rest of his life like this, laying on the floor with his head on Ivan’s knees, if he could only-
“Did you rest enough?” the Russian asked, his singsong voice sounding out of place “Ready for the next round?”
And in the next second he was suffocating again, Ivan’s huge hand covering his mouth and Alfred wanted to cry, he wanted to scream not again please please not again please-
Arthur frowned.
“Cut it out, he’ll move too much and end up hurting himself.
“He’s barely moving at all,” Ivan said, but he released his nose. He kept his hand over Alfred’s mouth, though.
“Right. So. Where are the scissors?” Arthur asked.
Scissors? Alfred saw the silver glint in Arthur’s hand, and then he felt the British’s hand touching his groin, and he found the strength to at least try to kick him, eyes wide open in sheer terror.
“Oh for God’s sake, America, don’t be such a baby” - Arthur waved, and Francis came to hold one of his legs, someone - Ludwig - holding the other “I won’t cut you!”
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