|| Everybody wants to rule the world || USA × Italy

1} -love

TW!!! Emotional and physical abuse

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The Europeans sat around a table, a map of the United States laid there on the table. The poor capitalist was tied down on a chair, as the countries decided his fate.Red, blue, green and white pens wrote borders and schemes as they dissected the territory, cutting slices out of the American pie.Italy stared at him.What hurts more is that his own wife took part in this.

UN reluctantly spoke, finally, after hours of silent stuttering and muttering between the Europeans.

<Have all of you decided how to... Divide the territory among you..?>

Italy spoke in a gentle and seemingly caring voice.

<Don't worry, we are almost done.>

She smiled softly at her husband. She was like the devil... Charismatic, pretty, seemingly kind, only to steal your soul and body.

America felt like a rabbit in a cage of lions, he could feel the claws of the Europeans tear his flesh apart. He didn't know how it felt. He could only imagine as the screams of Third Reich replayed in his mind, the mental image of that tyrant being torn apart felt like a dejavu.

Italy's voice rang in his ears when she spoke, directing her voice to him.

<Love... why are you crying?>

He only now realised he was crying. He finally felt the tears flow down.

Italy's smile turned into a soft grin as he sobbed even more. He hated her so much when she acted like that. he felt UK grab his shoulders, France grabbed his legs. They both pulled as he popped open like a cracker, a fountain of blood and small stateballs exploded from his now ripped belly.

Italy grinned, and Spain spoke, his thick accent standing out between the other members'.

<Looking real tired. I thought you said it was a painless procedure.>

Italy laughed, and so did Germany and UK. France was too focused on fetching the states assigned to him.

He felt them rip the states one by one, like predators devouring their prey.

He dozed off pretty quickly, little did he know he wouldn't wake up anytime soon...

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NATO tried to intervene as soon as he walked in the room, grabbing America's now dead body trying to somehow revive him, not ready to accept his very creator was now nothing but a lifeless limp sack of flesh.

He should have know flesh eventually rots.

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NATO got shoved onto his desk, Russia growling lowly as Germany put on some latex gloves, and poked the lid of a vial. It looked like some sort of medicine, but he knew it wasn't.

He dug the needle in the lid, sucking up the liquid, and Italy got NATO's shoulder ready for the shot. She only wiped the skin not daring to waste numbing wipes on him.

<Please.. for the love of God... all I am asking for some anesthesia...>

<Why should we waste numbing wipes for such a insignificant pawn>

Italy slapped him, and Germany fixed his head back in it's position, digging the needle in NATO's shoulder, the man hissing as the needle pierced his skin.

<Quit the whining and be grateful we aren't tearing you apart.>

<You...you wouldn't do that>

<Don't assume>

NATO's bright blue skin quickly turned pastel blue, his eyes widening. He knew Europeans had a story of violence and cruelty, whole chapters of their histories were written in the blood of their enemies, but he didn't think such cruelty was basically passed down from generation to generation...

Italy didn't even bother to fetch him a bandage. He would lose every single memory of his in a matter of hours anyway.

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Ok-

EVERYONE PRAY THIS ONE DOESN'T GET TAKEN DOWN-

:)