|| Hopeless || A Countryhumans WWll Alternate History "Rewrite" ||

Chapter lll: Rotting • Britain •

Rotting ( in another definition ): for one to become morally corrupt

Italics I'm this chapter is either emphasizing or flashbacks.

Britains POV:

Pennsylvania, USA, 1944

I stormed out of the room, I couldn't believe this man, it's like he wanted for me and his mother to rot, on the definition of rot, he's rotten! He's basically telling me " Have fun dying. " 

He keeps saying that he refuses to give supplies or join the war due to the after-effects of the Great Depression, which was what? Five years ago?

" It's fine, it really is, "  I told myself, but I couldn't help but me mad, no, furious, I stormed over to my car, where two butlers were waiting for me, i composed myself before entering the car.

" Sir. United Kingdom, you seem in a dearly bad mood, would you like to talk about it? " One of the butlers asked.

Was this guy serious right now? Does he think i'm the child needing consolation here? When there's a whole entire child running this stupid country of his?

" No, thank you. " I managed to say, despite my fury, the butler hummed and closed the door, I couldn't believe this.

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Münich, Germany, 1951

I realize it wasn't necessary United States fault, I should of been better, I was the one rotten, people had called me selfish, uncaring, inconsiderate back then, I realize they had been true, it was me this whole time, I should of been better.

When was the last time I had been out of this cell? The last time I ever saw daylight? I couldn't remember, that meeting was the only thing I could remember.

It atleast made me smile thinking of my children, how grown up they are, I definitely needed a reality check to realize they didn't need me anymore.

Scotland, Wales, England, Northern Ireland, France had said that she'd try her best of keep them safe, I shivered thinking of Scotland, with what happened.

We were trying to escape the English mainland, to get to the Faroe Islands, unlucky enough, we were hit my a hurricane along the way, no one was injured, but Scotland was still waiting at Faroe Islands with Denmark, I didn't make it on time.

I felt like a failure because of that, what a terrible father I was, I buried my head into my hands.

I would die knowing I failed Scotland, my other children as well.

I am going to die.

The realization didn't scare me, as much as it should, I've realized my mistakes, and I'm ready to go, my execution was, as Reich ' promised ' May 12, only god knew what day it was now.

The only way for me to keep track of time was through one tiny, probably a bullet hole. Where I could look outside through it, during my early empire times, like 1500's - 1600's, I learned how to read time from the suns direction. It was helpful for setting sail.

It was currently the afternoon, about, 2:00? If only there was some way for me to keep track of the days, it would be helpful, heck, it may be May 12 today.

I remember the exact day I was captured, it was a haunting day, to say the least, about, six In the evening, January 26, 1951

If I were to make a guess, it was probably about March? That was a guess though.

I attempted to get up from where I was sitting, but I was immediately greeted with back pain, yesterday, I got a 'good' beating for apparently talking back, as if I were a child.

I looked around the all-too-familar room, if I remembered, the room number was room 499, not that it was a room, cell 499, That seemed more like it. There must probably be other people here too, waiting for execution.

This, unlike where I assume Soviet was taken, was what we called an " execution block " as the name suggests, people and or countries get executed here.

I heard that there was a puppet government installed into the United Kingdom when I was captured, Black Shirts had become a problem to me even before I got captured, Black Shirt riots had become common, now the Nazis installed a Black Shirt, or in other words Fascist Government.

It humiliated me thinking about that, France had became Vichy France, whilst her brother, and my past worst enemy, Napoleonic France, became Free France.

But me? Instead of becoming, I don't know, Vichy Britain? I was instead going to become a hanging head, or something, executed, in other words.

It didn't matter if I was executed painfully or not, in this cell I'm already half-rotting to death, maybe I'll be fed to the dogs or something.

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