Red Eyes

A Story

Feliks awoke to the sound of shouting, and it definitely wasn't excited shouting.

"You know we keep them hungry for a good reason! If you feed them, they'll think we're going soft!" A voice shouted. Italian.

"I can't let them-" Slap. That was Prussia's voice.

"Who were you working with?"

Silence.

"WHO WERE YOU WORKING WITH?!"

Silence.

There was a growl and a yelp along with the now fimiliar sound of handcuff being clicked into place, before someone came stomping down the hall.

Feliks was shocked. It was 2p Italy, the one who captured him in the first place, with the Prussia copy that had fed him.

Luciano shoved Prussia into a cell across from Feliks, growling.

"If you want to help these 1ps, uou can be treated like one." The Italian snarled, slamming and locking the cell door.

Then he turned to Feliks, glaring.

"Don't worry. You get a special treatment soon." Luciano snarled.

Feliks smirked and flipped him off.

"Ugh!" Luciano threw his arms down and stormed out.

The Prussia copy sighed once he left and huddled into a corner.

Feliks frowned. "...Why did you, like, help us if you knew he would get that mad?" He asked hesitantly.

"Luciano has no control over me, and I'm not going to just stand by and watch people wither away." The copy sighed.

So that's the Italy's name.

"My name is Klaus. I'm guessing your Feliks?"

Feliks nodded.

There was soft flapping noise and a small black chick appeared, looking at Klaus and cheeping.

Klaus gasped slightly and whispered, "How?"

The bird gave a short chirp again and Klaus nodded.

"Listen Feliks. You can't trust anything anyone says for a little while, Okay? I can't tell you why, but you need to understand." Klaus said, seeming rushed.

Feliks nodded, getting panicky.

There was loud stomping, and the canadian copy appeared.

"Alright, let's go punk." He muttered, unlocking the cell and grabbing Feliks by the front of his shirt.

Feliks glared at him but stayed silent.

Matt smirked and dragged the pole down the hall down a seemingly new hallway and into a purely white room.

Matt held a struggling Feliks onto a metal table in the middle of the room, strapping his chest, wrists, and ankles down with leather straps.

Oliver walked into the room, holding something Feliks couldn't see.

"Do we have to do this? We don't know if the side effects might effect him." Oliver asked, for once not seeming happy.

Matt shrugged. "Boss said so."

Oliver sighed and walked over to the personification of Poland.

"Sorry about this, love." He whispered, injecting a purple liquid  into his neck and backing up.

Oliver then went over to a small table in the corner and pulled something off it, before coming over and sticking something cold to both his temples.