(Untitled)

[linquere]

[They're quieter in the morning. Restless, but still waking from years of reluctant sleep. Still only shadows.

It's the afternoon that stirs them. They've been there all along, thinking and dreaming of you. You, who took their lives and stole their homes.

This is not where you belong. Get out.The slow stiffness of death haunts their movements as

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[onewithkol]

[Russia's been in his apartment all day, not scared but weary of the outside. Currently, he's sitting by the window, his one source of light, fingers fidgeting around that faucet of his]

[linquere]

[The room is dark, the shadows still. It starts slowly at first: barely audible whispers and cut-off voices. More of them play like broken records, skipping vowels and entire words.

And yet, the room is still.]

[onewithkol]

[His fingers twitch, the grip tightening around the pipe as he slowly turns his head to scan the room. The light is meager, but he still tries his best to see into the room. He isn't afraid, not yet, but even his heart skips a beat at what he hears.

These voices .. where were they coming from?]

Who's .. who is there?

[linquere]

[There's nothing to see. The voices are getting louder, whispering more frantically and clearly.]

--elp us--

--you're not our nati--

--Cossack scum--

--Please save u--

[Your arm is suddenly grasped by an invisible hand.]

Mother!

[onewithkol]

[His eyes widen, his hands immediately raising up to chest level. This isn't to attack, no, no it's to keep these voices away. An instinctive defence to what he's hearing. He wants to block it all out, but were those .. his people ..

His face stays still for the moment because after all, it's nothing. Just ghosts; no matter what they say they can't hurt--]

... !!

[The minute he feels the hand grab on, he's up onto his feet, pipe swinging out instinctively

[linquere]

[Several of the voices are laughing, they're laughing at YOU.]

--trying to hurt us!--

--'s all he ever really does--

[The hands are getting even grabbier now. Your scarf, your coat, all of them are being grabbed and pulled.]

--Motherland--

--I wonder if countries bleed--

--guilty guilty guilty--

[onewithkol]

[Stop. Stop it. He never wanted t-- This is nothing, nothing at all. Noth .. in .. g.

He jumps backwards, struggling to free himself from his invisible assailants. Is it just him or does the room feel tiny? Is he surrounded?

His arm swings in all directions, trying to ward off the voices.]

Play nice, you all need to-. I .. What do you want?

[linquere]

[The grabbing is more desperate and harsh; they're trying to pull you down.]

--food--

--medici--

--mommy--

--love--

[A men steps out from the shadows. He's handsome and dressed rather poorly, staring at you with the same insanely pleasant eyes you've used on so many others.

He's also holding an axe.]

[onewithkol]

[There's too many voices and he can't listen to them all. Can't help .. They'll be strong his people have always been strong and they'll survive the boss says so and ..

Still lost in his struggle, Russia fails to notice the ghost at first. But when he does, he knows.
His face mirrors his would-be executioner, his grip on his faucet as tight as the one the other has on his axe. There's a tremor, just the slightest running through his body as he comes face to face with the ghost. ]

So, you are the one behind all this .. da?

[linquere]

[The voices slowly die back down to the broken whispers and soft murmurs, but the hands are getting stronger. They want to drag you down. They want to hold you in place.

The axe ghost just stares at him calmly.]

I'm behind nothing. I'm only here to fix an error. Kill an idea, so to speak.

[He steps closer. His mouth twitches into the barest smile. It's not without a twinge of insanity.]

You won't be missed.

/way to fall asleep at the worst time, me

[onewithkol]

[He's desperate to be free of these hands that hold him, hands that are clawing at him, hands that want to tear him apart. He's stumbling backwards as much as he can, away from that add and that smile. He knows he can't trust it, after all its much like his own. What he's saying can't be true. He can't die, he will be missed, he will, right?

When his back reaches the wall he can only look on, hands raised to attempt a block however futile it may be, eyes steely as he talks back]

So this is .. the end of me, da?

[linquere]

Da.

[The ghost looks feverish now, the smile gone as he races towards you. The axe is raised.

And he strikes you on the head with the blunt end. It's not quite hard enough to be fatal, or even for you to lose consciousness yet, but you'll be in quite a lot of pain for a while. The man looks stares at you in contempt.]

It'd be useless. I can't kill what's already dead. You don't even know the pain of guilt, do you? Madness poisoned any humanity you had long ago.

[The hands are pinning you to the wall now. The man grabs your scarf and pulls it down to expose your neck.]

So we're the same. The only difference is that you have to endure the motions of living. I can fix that.

[And with that, he takes the sharp edge of the axe and draws it across your throat, just on the surface of the skin.]

[onewithkol]

W-what ..

[And before he can even block, he's struck. And stumbling down and back and suddenly he's pinned. Everything feels like a blur of pain and struggling and he's sure that the strike must've done quite a number on him because he can't focus, can't feel the hands holding him up until another joins them in pulling his scarf down. He begins thrashing, the anger inside him growing as he moves as much as he's able to.]

N--

[He lets out something like a choked cry as the blade draws blood and his arm shoots out to push it and the ghost as far away as he can.]

[linquere]

[Your arms pass right through him. The crazed man smiles serenely, drawing back his axe, aiming right for your neck--

But he doesn't swing.

He actually backs away, slowly fading as he does so. The ghost's voice is calm and not without a twinge of disgust.]

No. You don't need me. You're doing a good enough job killing yourself.

[He fades. The hands let go. You're left alone with the chanting, muted whispers of the other voices. They'll keep chattering all night long, the same quiet, broken tone repeated again and again.]

[onewithkol]

[And for a moment, he actually believes that this is it. The end. Brought to him by a ghost who seems just as insane as him, of all things. But then there's nothing, nothing at all slicing his head off of his shoulders and he can't help but stare at the ghost who seems to have spared him. Or so he thought until the next words.]

You don't know anything.

[He's actually enraged enough to swing at the fading ghost again, despite the fact that it passes right through again. As the ghost fades, he drops to his knees, laughing and sure that he must have driven the other being away. Until he hears the voices that remain, that is.]