Abducted

24

He took a deep breath, immediately recognizing that he wasn't in control of his body. He realized that he was reliving memories, once again. Possibly brought on by Germany's questioning.

Adany immediately realized the memories that were appearing when he saw America appear. There was a white man behind him on horseback. He turned to the side. Two more white men on each side.

He looked at his brother. He wasn't wearing his glasses. He was noticeably teary-eyed, but had a bright smile on his face.

Wanting to kick himself, wanting to push away. He couldn't move.

"Hello!" Dyami... er, Alfred spoke in English. He had still been getting used to the language, "I have to ask you to come with me."

"Where?" he asked. The words were still forgein on his mouth. From Alfred's expression he wondered if he had said the wrong thing. No, he was pretty sure that was the word.

"Um..." the man on horseback poked him with his whip, and Alfred looked up to him sadly, before looking back to him, "C'mon. You need to see something."

"What?" he wasn't dumb. He could tell something was wrong. He became more aware of the horses stepping closer to him.

"Stop asking questions," his brother switched, going from scared to aggressive like a beaten dog. He took a step back, feeling white hands grabbing onto him. He tried to pull away, looking at the men with fear. He was outnumbered.

Alfred took a few steps forward. For a moment, he wondered if this was how England had felt. Trapped between a wall, a demon, and men on horseback.

Alfred unsheathed a knife. It was made of silver, and Adany had to hold back his giggling. Silver wasn't normally very sharp, but from the glean alone Adany could tell he gave this knife special care.

"What are you doing?" he asked this question in Cherokee. He had no worries for his brother understanding him, he knew he spoke his tongue.

"Seems you need more training," the voice was from somewhere deep in his throat, making the teenager seem older, more masculine.

Adany's eyebrows furrowed, and he struggled. The fingers tightened enough to bruise.

"Come with me, brother," Alfred said. It sounded soft, as if he was begging. He walked closer, a smile on his face, "come on. It won't hurt if you just come with me."

"What's wrong with you?" Adany asked, and Alfred stopped. His weight shifted between his front and back foot before he took another step forward.

"Nothing," the voice was a drawl. He was close to him, now. Right in front.

He slashed. A line was drawn across his chest, deep.

"Brother," Alfred said, in the same, soft, voice. It was almost kind, "Adany, just come with me. It will be easier if you just come with me."

"What the- what are you doing?"

"Please, brother," Alfred said. He buried the tip of the knife into his collarbone. Adany looked down, a blank expression.

"What are you doing, brother?" his voice wavered, "Please, tell me. What's going on?"

"Just come with me."

"This is my land. This is what I personify. You can't push me away from here."

Cries came from his lips as the knife came down his chest. He watched the blood drip onto the floor. A slap rang out across his face and he scowled, looking over to Alfred. His eyes showed nothing.