literature

Spain's Prisoner 17

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"We're almost there, prisoners." Captain Gilbert announced with a sadistic grin, cutting the memorable singing off.

"And where exactly is it we are going?" Francis asked harshly. No one had bothered to ask since they were busy ringing their vocals in bittersweet reminiscence, but now worry finally started to smother the group in an anxious blanket.

A cruel laugh fluttered from the Prussians pale lips. "To go meet Sadik, of course." He grinned at the horrified faces and hummed quietly. "Hmm, but since we no longer have Alfred to fight…we need someone else…" His crimson eyes grazed slowly over each form.

Not the Italians, they were practically useless when it came to strength. Not to mention the older one was injured. But so was Antonio, who under any other circumstances would have been the best choice but now he could hardly even walk. That left The Frenchman and the Canadian. The younger sibling of America didn't really have his brothers strength, but he didn't really trust France to fight.

Scrunching his brows together, he frowned in thought until the cart stopped a few minutes later.

A tall, slender, olive skinned man with khaki clothes and a white mask covering his dark eyes, greeted them with a sly smile.

"Gilbert! Prussia! My friend. Where is Arthur?"

"Long story, I'll tell you inside. Right now, Ludwig, escort our prisoners to their room."

The German stayed silent as he nodded and grabbed the rope that bounded them all together.

An hour later, the group was still sitting miserable in a stony, hampered room somewhere underground the Turkish man's abode.

The Italians still hung onto each other, and Antonio had his arms wrapped around Romano while France had one of his around Italy and the other around his shivering Canadian.

"I see."

They heard suddenly, a deep voice growing nearer with low footsteps.

"So, that is the new plan, Prussia?"

"It is. It will work, most likely even better than Alfred fighting."

"Oh?"

"You will see. Open the door."

The footsteps stopped and for a few moments it was silent, but then the door slowly creaked open and there stood Turkey, Prussia, and Germany behind them.

"France." The albino said with a pleased grin. "You are going to fight!"

The Frenchman gasped. "I think not!" He cried in defense as the blonde German grabbed a hold of his arms. "I will do no such thing!"

Gilbert ran a hand through his silver hair and floated into the room with a grin. He stared at the Frenchman, but turned away suddenly, taking a hold of the man's young Canadian instead.

He jolted the boy up and into his arms, hands holding onto him tightly. "You think I won't hurt him? Do you see him now? I did this! Next time I won't show so much mercy!" The albino cried as the long haired blonde yelled and cursed, twisting against his German bounds.

"Don't you touch him!" He hissed threateningly.

"Oh?" He purred again, pulling at the Canadian's hair, making him whine out. "I won't. If you fight."

"Fine! Just leave him alone!"

Again he laughed, mocking in their ears. "Ludwig will prepare you. The rest of you, come this way, you get front row seats."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Spain..." The older Italian whined sadly. The three of them were sitting on a stone bench in a circular building. The Prussian still held Matthew, sitting with Sadik beside the trio. "What's happening?"

"We are in a coliseum." He whispered back to the boy leaning against him. "Francis…he has to fight."

"Wh-What happens if he loses?"

The Spaniard gulped nervously. "I…I don't think we would want to know."

Lovino started to cry again and soon the place was filled with people yelling and screaming for a blood bath.

"Look!" Gilbert smirked evilly. "There's that perverted Frenchman! Oh, and his opponent!" He stood, keeping a strong hold of the Canadian. Laughing, he threw his head back in a fit. This was all too wonderful!

"Ah, Sadik. I like how this arrangement turned out." He said, taking his seat once again.

"As do I. You truly believe France can beat my top fighter?"

"I do. He knows this," The man pulled on the dirty blonde locks again. "Is what he's fighting for. Trust me, if I know him, he'll do whatever it takes to keep this boy safe."

"He won't need to fight!" A voice called harshly, and when he looked at the top of the coliseum, crimson eyes met with fiery blue ones. "Cause the hero is here!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I AM THE MASTER OF CLIFF HANGERS!! C:<
Chapter SEVENTEEN!! <3 <3 <3

LOOK!! :icontailsmoforever7: made me this: [link]
AND!! :iconandreyaprussiauchiha: made me this picture! [link]

Got it up on fanfitcion.net now!: [link]

Totally inspired by this awesome peice: [link]

Read on:
Part 1: [link]
Part 16: [link]
Part 17: Here! <3
Part 18: [link]

*Note: I don't own anyone of these characters!
Hetalia (c) Hidekaz
Art is (c) [link]
Art NOT by me!!
© 2011 - 2024 shyannaruto
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