Hetalia Angst

The Black Plague

A/N: Warning: this chapter is very gory. Don't read if you are eating something. OnO SORRY ENGLAND. Human names will be used in this one.

Arthur winced as he sat up from his chair. The black plague was wreaking havoc on his land, and he could only watch as his people screamed from pain and agony, bleeding and coughing to death. As he was the representative of his nation, this disease was inescapable. The large boils formed on his limbs, weeping pus and blood. His lungs burned like fire. With every cough, he would spit up more and more blood. Was his fever getting worse or better? He couldn't tell anymore.

He wanted someone to help him, but the rest of Europe was just as bad. Hell, he'd even ask that frog, Francis. Not that he could move from his bed. He couldn't wait for death to take him away either. Countries can't die, but now, he was not so certain. Gripping the edge of his bed, he nearly screamed in pain. Arthur looked at his hands, almost throwing up. That's right, another wonderful side effect of the black plague was just as the name suggested. His skin and flesh were quite literally rotting. The fingernails were black, and the black skin sunk down. It was repulsive. He looked like an absolute monster. He was an absolute monster, that would only infect more of his people if he dared went outside. 

Time skip to 3 weeks later

The Black Plague was at it's worst now. Somedays, he just couldn't help but scream. His boils have all popped at this point, and he was bleeding from every place he could be bleeding from. His lungs were liquefying, and with every cough that racked his body, he could feel blood gurgling up his throat. Arthur wished he was human. Only then, could he die. Only then, will he no longer have to toss and turn in bed, trying to find a spot where the bedsheets did not glue on his skin with the blood. His skin was now a sickly white, and he could barely breathe some days. He shakily reached across his bedside table, trying to ignore the pain that was now blooming across his arm from the effort it took to get out of his bloodstained bed. Even if it was for a few hours, anything would be better than this hell. It would be pain-free bliss. His hand shook as he held the revolver in his hand. Arthur loaded it with a click. He stuck the revolver to his forehead, and pulled the trigger, resulting in a loud bang. Blood spattered the walls, and the lifeless body of Arthur Kirkland fell back onto his mattress.

A/N: Hi guys! This was fun to write, not that I like torturing people, it was just fun to research and...yeah. I promise I'm not a very scary person! Love me and feed me cookies. -v- Tell me who to write and possibly kill off next! I love the sound of breaking hearts OvO