[On-Hold?] Can't You Remember? Prussia X Reader

Prologue~

  Citizens cries were merely sirens throughout Berlin. My black boots click's on the dark tar road were drowned out from the chaos around. A frantic mother runs holding her 8 year old son's hand in a death grip heading in the opposite direction of me. Tears stream from his hazel eyes to descend his dirty rugged face. My blue coat blows as they sped pass my right not bothering to throw a single glance at me. To my left another scene plays out. An elderly man pleads as he squirms on the ground with a gun pointed to the back of his head sobbing German words. "Bitte! Bitte! Bitte!" Each one growing more urgent after the last. The Soviet that is holding the old male down by a foot on his spine casts a look of disgust. The sound of the gun going off causes me to recoil and slam my eyes shut. I open my crimson orbs to see the old man's brains blown and I can't bring myself to gaze at his corpse any moment more. My vision shifts to the Soviet whom is covered in his victim's internals. He brings his tongue out to lick the chuckes of brain off his face. Swerving my head away I could no longer handle the revolting sight.

   I made my way into the castle of where former monarchies lived in search for my higher authority. Around the corridors I look; paintings had been ripped, glass valuables crushed and furniture thrown to the side broken with no mercy. I stop when I reach the painting of me along the wall. My gloved fingers trace the picture gently. It was the only one that remained unharmed. A paper stuck out from the side of the frame causing me to grab it.

  

     Preußa,

Es tut mir leid. Es tut mir leid genn. Es... Es  tut mir so leid Gilbert.

   My heart winced at the words making me quicken my pace to my prime minster's room. I bust open the doors to feel my entire being cease. He hung from a noose as he slowly rotated around with crimson dripping from the deep cuts on his wrist. The wooden chair below him knocked over to be accompanied with a pool of red. Words were written in what appeared as blood sloppy across the walls of the room which read: ES TUT MIR LEID GENN! I turned around and shut the door not yearning to witness anymore.

    On the roof of the castle I stood with the wind lightly tugging at my royal blue jacket. I viewed my once beautiful capital that was now going into ruins. A gigantic Prussian flagged waved on the top of the city hall building which was currently on fire along with the flag itself. The air smelt of gun powder, smoke and iron. More bloodcurdling yells blare, even louder then the numerous cracking infernos that consumed multiple structures. My ruby vision turned up to the red moon above, it's new color caused from all the carbon around. Was this really it? Was this my end? Was I really powerless enough to do nothing to help my people? Has my time finally come? Will I too fade away into nothing like Roman Empire or Holy Rome? Will I be forgotten? That couldn't possibly happen, I was a great nation. I look below at the crying children being circled by troops and numerous 'bams' of gun calls within the circle accompanied by terrified yowls. Instantly I glance away shaking my head sadly to see a woman laying on the ground holding a girl. The girl's blonde hair is dyed with red and stares blankly at the sky while her mother wails "JEMAND HELFEN SIE MEINE TOCHTER! JEMAND BITTE! BITTE HELFEN SIE UNS!" as she buried her head into her child's shoulder. It broken my heart to see such a thing. A loud screaming call grasp my attention as I see a man jump off a tall building to plunge to his death. He lands head first causing me to wince and close my eyes. No. If I were a great nation this would never be happening. A great nation never falls.

   "Hilfe!!" my eyes snap open and suddenly the noises of the world are deaf to me. The scene plays out in slow motion: Russian troops held her by her (h/c) locks as she laid on her knees on the black road. Tears flow down her cheeks while the other troop held her hands behind her back. In the other hand of the troop holding her hair is a long wicked sliver sword. Slowly he raises it and I feel both my heart stop and face pale. She swung her head slowly swaying her mess of  (h/c) as more water leaves her (e/c) orbs. "FRAU!" I deliberately mouth, reaching out for her even though there was a 20 feet height difference from us. She heard my call and slowly looks up at me eyes large with surprise, pooled by watery pleading tears. "Gilbert?" She mouth back.

And then the blade came down.

Translation~

Bitte ~ Please (German)

Es tut mir leid. Es tut mir leid genn. Es... Es  tut mir so leid Gilbert. ~ I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm... I'm so sorry Gilbert.  (German)

Es tut mir leid genn ~ I'm sorry!  (German)

JEMAND HELEN SIERRA MEINE TOCHTER! JEMAND BITTE! BITTE HELFEN SIE UNS! ~ Somebody PLEASE HELP MY DAUGHTER! PLEASE SOMEONE! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP US! (German)

Hilfe ~ help (German)