The Monsters in us all ( Dark!/Yandere! Hetalia x Reader )

Dark Egypt x Reader ~ Illusions ~

A/N: Warning: Manipulation. Story takes place around 1600 A.D

The sun shines mercilessly as you trek onwards. Sand seeps into your clothes like water would, the hot grains burning your skin but you do your best to ignore the sensation. Dirt and sweat combine to a disgusting mixture that coats your body. Your roughly cut hair is oily and the thin clothes you stole from the market are torn in places.

This only makes the cuts covering your body worsen and sting with every step you take.

The sea of sand stretches in all directions, the yellow slowly making you sick with despair. Your stomach and muscles protest as you continue to drag yourself forward.

Fishing around in your pocket, you pull out a dried fruit. Slowly you chew the tough fruit but you can no longer taste the sweetness, your mouth is to dry for such a thing.

You curse yourself for your own stupidity, maybe it would have been better to stay in Alexandria. But then again, is life worth living if you're not free?

Fate is seldom just, it mostly gives wealth and luxury to those who don't deserve it and let's the good-hearted live a life filled with hardship and agony. Was it that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time or was it that you had run out of luck in general?

At the very moment you can't think about it, heck, all the thoughts that go through your mind are confusing and jumbled up, notions coming delayed amongst the facts that water and energy are being drained, fat and muscles disappearing, making you look like a walking skeleton.

Your breathing is laboured and your eye-sight is hazy, colours swimming in your view that doesn't belong in such a landscape.

And then there is the constant feeling that you're being watched. It frustrates you that someone may be close but doesn't show themselves. That person could give you some food and water or maybe even guide you to the next river or oases. But whenever you stop to look around you there is not a living soul around. You are completely alone.

The meek fire that you've managed to make from the dry branches you found barely warm you. The desert nights are icy cold as you have found out.

You slide even closer to the flames and you take a sip of the precious water you've brought along with you. Glancing at the flask you know that you only have enough water to last you another day, two days if things go well.

Curling together you edge even closer to the fire, watching as it slowly dies down to embers and your lids gradually grow heavier. Before you drift off to an uneasy sleep you could swear that you see a silhouette of a person on one of the dunes towering over your sleeping place.

Dreams filled with images of your life flash before your closed eyes, taunting you, reminding you that you can't deny who you are, that you can't run away from your past. Happy as well as sad memories reminding you of the life you had, nostalgia and disgust reaching you even in your sleeping state.

You play tag with your childhood friends, screaming and laughing as you run through the quaint little village that was once your home. The children running after you morph into grown soldiers wielding swords and spears, yelling as they chase you through the burning streets.

The scene evaporates and you are now washing your face in a stream but when you look up again you're kneeling on a platform along with other slaves, your hands bound together with a rough rope, the slave keeper holding the other end like a leash while a faceless crowd screaming prices, going ever higher up. Then, everything around you crumbles away, turning into sand. Waking up you very nearly burst into tears. But now is no time for tears. You gather yourself and your belongings together and continue your voyage.