My American Oneshot Book

Oneshot 3

Just some fluff to rot your teeth!

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America was cuddled into his covers, his cheeks wet from crying. A full 24 hours had passed and nobody texted him for his birthday. He tried to hang out with anybody, but all of them had excuses. Canada was on a date with Prussia, England was working (what else is new?), France was out with Spain and Romano somewhere, China was discussing political bs with Germany, Japan was jetlagged from the flight over, Italy was just scatterbrained per the usual, and Russia was being forced to hang with Belarus. America was so deep in thought as his eyes fluttered closed, his nightmare beginning

...

America was in a black abyss. He knew this nightmare, and he hated it. Black outlines of the others began to show up, there eyes glowing red and wicked smiled upon their faces. He knew these beasts all too well, these were Alfred's demons. All the nations had a demon counterpart in Alfred's psyche, even Liechtenstein and Italy. However, it was the G8 that came up the most.

"Well, if it isn't the pathetic little piggy!" Russia sweetly teased.

"Honestly, I sometimes wonder why we're trade partners aru. You pretty selfish," China crossed his arms.

"Hai, I agree China-san. America-san shourd rearry try harder to be better," Japan furthered.

"Vhen vill jou finally act like ze power jou are! It's a vaste on jou!" Germany shouted. America fell to his butt and curled into the fetal position, hugging himself and covering his ears.

"Ve~ I wonder when you will prove how smart you are! I mean, you really don't do a lot!" Italy chirped happily.

"The bastard will never prove himself! He'll always be a stupid burger bastard!" Romano added.

"Honestly, Al. Why can't you be better! I mean, it doesn't help I'm always mistaken for you eh! Maybe you should stop being a useless nation and actually help somebody!" Canada screamed.

"I 'ave to agree with 'im Amerique. All jou do iz eat zose nasty burgers and preached 'ow jou are the 'ero. But jou are nothing but a waste of space compared to moi!" France yelled.

"I should have never raised you, you ungrateful prat! All you do is bother anybody around you! Why not just help the world and drop dead! You're worthless! Do better! You're not good enough!" England finished. Alfred began to tremble as the nations began to twirl around him, chanting the same things. The same insults that Alfred could feel cut into him like a knife.

"Weak" "Waste" "Pest" "Pathetic" "Selfish" "Ignorant" "Loud" "Rude" "Petty" "Nosy" "Useless" "Never Enough" "Bitch" "Slut" "Idiot" "Obnoxious" "Worthless"

"STOPPPP" a loud female voice commanded. The world froze and Alfred could no longer hear the insults. He was too scared to look but felt two pairs of warm arms embrace him.

"Shhh, Nieto (grandson)" a Spanish voice whispered. 

"Oui, mon petit-fils (my grandson). Zey will not 'urt jou anymore," a French voice calmed. A hand patted his head.

"Please do not cry, America. After all, you are the greatest nation of all time. Dare I say even-a greater than me!" an Italian accent yelped. A slap was heard, followed by the Italian voice groaning.

"Vill jou knock it off! Leave the boy be!" a German voice commanded, "Britti, jou doing good?"

"Of course I am! This forcefield is a piece of cake for a magic-user such as myself!" a British voice exclaimed excitedly.

"We have handled them," a monotoned voice said.

"Da, there are no more demons. Britti may allow the shield to dismay," an almost Russian accent stated. The one named Britti huffed and soon America felt the breeze of the abyss. He was still too scared to open his eyes, until a light pat brushed his cheek.