Italy hated it. There were always girls, everywhere. Always trying to speak to Germany. Italy had had enough. Germany was talking to a teenage girl who was asking for directions, obviously flirting. Italy almost started frowning, but instead told Germany he was leaving, and went home. He walked to his closet and opened the door, pulling out a key and opening a secret panel underneath the Shrine to Germany that held a few machine guns under multiple pictures of young girls tied up, whip marks and blood dripping to the floor. "Hahaha... Luddy is mine, ve? No one else can have him." He cocked the gun and walked outside. It had become nighttime and Italy walked down the street with a smile. He started shooting the second a woman passed by, blood spattering to the floor. Italy giggled and ran to another part of town, shooting a small group of friends that had just left a bar. He loved the smell of blood and gunpowder, he loved the sound of the gun firing as he shot his next target. He especially adored hearing them scream out in pain as he drove bullets through them, over and over. He kept on his eerie laughter and finally arrived back home, blood covering his clothes. He took a shower and put his clothes in the washing machine. He gave a kiss to the Germany shrine and laid on his bed, thinking of new ways to torture any other bitches who flirt with his Germany.
:::The Next Day:::
Germany was watching the news when he woke up. "An Italian man was seen on a shooting spree in North Venice. He was small and had auburn hair. If you see him, please contact the authorities immediately." Italy walked out of the room smiling. "Buon Giorno!" (A/N I probzies shredded that) Germany looked up. "Guten Morgen... Hey Italy, someone was going on a shooting spree in one of your cities..." Italy looked at Germany with a fake concerned face before walking to the kitchen. "Ve, let's make pasta!"
AND NOBODY EVER KNEW IT WAS ITALY
