Split Personality

That fatefull day

The song at the top fit the story perfectly. You can listen to if you want. Just imagine Third singing it.
__________________________
This has mentions of attempted suicide If you are uncomfortable with this skip to paragraph five.
__________________________
Underlined text is Thirds thoughts.
__________________________

Third person POV:
Third stood in his office. He would do it today. It's not like he could stop himself. He left everything in a perfect place. The secret door in his office was unlocked, the key for it in his hand. And another key on his desk. He had a gun in his hand, it was his black pistol. He has had this gun for the majority of his life. To bad it was the gun he was going to use.

He heard footsteps coming to the room he was about to pull the trigger when the gun got knocked out of his hand when he turned to look he saw someone he fears, but the person in control did not have fears.

He got control and ran to the secret door. Locking it from the outside he was able to take a secret path to a hidden bunker that only he knew about. It had food, water, and three rooms. Only one way in only one way out.

               || same scenario ||

America had ran in to see third about to shoot himself. He stopped it from happening but when Third turned to face him his eyes, they changed from the blood red that they were normally to a fuchsia pink color. Than he ran. America tried to follow but the door would not budge. He saw a key on his desk labeled in English "bottom left". He was confused but he would figure it out.

The war went on for not much longer. The world changed dramatically. But Third? He was still the same. Nightmares haunted him every night. Mental fights every day. There were countless cracks in the wall from punching it. Crying constantly, shivering despite it being warm. It got to a point to where he stopped drinking water. Eating food. And especially sleeping. To him sleeping was hell. He knew he needed help. But who would help him. He wish he could explain what was wrong with him to someone. He would do anything to make this better.

|| some time later ||

Third woke up. Another torturing nightmare. He got up and looked in the mirror, it was shattered. He punched it a long time ago. He has no idea how long he has been down there. But he knew something. Today was the day. He was done.

He packed his uniform, a knife and his sketch book into a messenger bag. He put on a button up shirt and slacks, slung the messenger bag over his shoulder than put a large black cloak over that hiding his face and body. He walked to the door of the structure. But he got held back by his alter ego as always. But this time he managed to keep his eyes his and walked out the door. Putting the key in his pocket and walking down the path that once existed. He remembered how to get where he was going.

The forest looked a lot different every tree was new. And he recognized almost nothing from the last time he was out. He continued anyways and made it to his destination. Berlin. He hoped the place was still there. He kept walking an saw many new things. But kept his focus. The building he was looking for was still there. The meeting house. He inhaled deeply and knocked on the door, hard. There were many voices. He heard from the inside. He started to list them to himself. That was Britain, that was...I don't know. And that one is...huh. He only recognized Britain.

Britain open the door and saw him. "Hello, sorry we can't help right now we are having a meeting to see where to look for Nazi next." Third stiffened when he said that. "W-well y-you don't have t-to have th-that me-meeting anymore." Was all Third could say. Britain looked surprised. "Did someone find him?! Where is he?!" Third slowly lifted the hood of his cloak to show his face. Britain and Third stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity before Britain grabbed Third and yanked him inside. Third started to shake as he was pulled, not trying to escape but he was losing strength in his legs and arms. He got pulled to a room and when Britain let go Third fell to the floor shaking.

   Everyone in the room including Britain was concerned and confused. "Um, who is that?" Asked America.
Britain bent down and slowly pulled the hood off of Thirds head to reveal him to the room. At this point Third was silently crying. Weak.

When he opens his eyes again he could see the bottom of a tan trench coat this made him jump up in surprise falling onto his back. He quickly sat up and shoved himself into the corner of the room. Shaking and hyperventilating. His crying only got worse. Soviet was surprised by this action so he stepped closer, this only made him shove himself into the wall harder and his hyperventilating got worse. Just let me take control, I can kill them. "NO!" Was all Third yelled. Closing his eyes and curling into a ball still shoving himself into the wall.

   "Soviet stop, your making it worse. Let me try." America said pushing Soviet back and stepping next to Third. "Hay." Third looked up to see America. America moved Soviet and that made him calmer. Third was wondering why they aren't hurting him. The adrenaline rush was to much so everything went fuzzy and then it went black.

_________________________
This was a beautiful beginning to a story I know. I hope you aren't confused about what's happening. This story has been in my head for months and I have been building it and I finally decided to put it up here. If I get to much backlash from writing this I will delete it though. So please if you haven't, read the description.
Anyways, toodaloo- Grilly