Broken Elevator: 2 Souls In 1- ||BritSov Countryhumans||- Book 2

Chapter 3

"Aye why are we doing this again?" Asked England annoyed that he had to carry the heavy rocks. "My arms are achingg."

"Shuddup I just wanna see if anyone recognises it." Scotland said, dropping the 2 planks of wood on the grass.

"Now I regret agreeing to this pointless recreation of stupid witch trials."

"You were the only one that agreed to this."

"I was just bored as hell and you asked soo." England said, dropping the rocks on the floor with a big thud.

"Quit complaining then. I almost didn't ask." Snapped the Scot, turning away from him to put the equipment in place.

"What changed your mind?" Asked the English country.

"Drop it."

"Finee."

There was a rustle in a nearby bush.

England looked behind him swiftly before turning back to the Scot, convinced it was only the wind. It happens.

"So-"

The bush rustled again, but this time, louder. It seemed intentional as well.

"Hey Scot I'm just going to check in that bush over there." He said, pointing to the bush.

"What, is it scaring you?" Teased Scotland.

"No!" Said England, walking off towards the bush.

Scotland just carried on preparing it, humming to himself.

Snap!

"Eh?" The Scot turned. Nothing. "Wait England? Where are ya?"

Silence.

"Aye your scarin' me," The Scot moved away from the pile of rocks, "when I find ye you'll get a mighty great punishment."

He paused for any sound. Just the gentle breeze and the rustle of leaves on trees nearby.

"Ya cockney accented lil' shit I know you're there." He added, with a hint of concern.

He ran over to the bush and looked down at the ground, scanning it for any clue to where he could be.

A bowler hat he always wore. Scotland never knew why he would wear it, it's not even a trend. I guess he just likes it. He picked it up and stared at it for a few moments.

"North East it is then." He said with a satisfied smile.

...

England woke up in a square, black room. No lights. No windows. Just the barren walls and a little hole in the wall for light to pass through, but not enough to give him the light he needed.

"Hm, this room needs more lighting, not to mention the lack of cleaning." He said, looking at his dirty palms. "Aagh my head." He tried massaging his temples, but it does little to stop the pain.

He heard steps coming down to the cellar door, locked with 2 locks and a chain. Obsessive much? He thought.

He heard it unlock and a country letting himself in.

"Britain? Wait no... British Empire...?" England was in disbelief at what he was seeing.

"Ding ding ding! You're correct!" Empire clapped his hands like he was playing some innocent game, rather than kidnapping an innocent 15 year old for his rather mad plan.

"You messed up my hair you know." England tried straightening his hair back to what it was before to no avail. "I'm not scared of you."

"Really?" British Empire swiped out a blunt knife from behind his back. "You're not?"

England stopped talking at once. Was this psychopath going to torture him to death? He should've just said no to Scotland and stayed locked up in his house.

"What are you going to do to me?" He said slowly.

"The same thing I did to my mother. I just want to see that look on her face when she died," he looked at him, "but your a boy... ehh it's fine."

"You're sick."

"Why thank you!" He moved closer to him, knife in hand.

"Hell nah." England immediately stood up and kicked him in the shin. It was a short lived victory as he saw the door locked. From the inside. "Fuck."

The British Empire stumbled back in agonising pain for a few moments, cursing under his breath. Damn, he could kick.

"Why you lil' shit-" he ran forward with the knife and slit the other country's skin bellow the eye. Not very deep, but it made him clutch it in pain.

"Heh."  The Empire said raising his knife again. England was just frozen there, wincing in pain.

He stabbed the the knife deep into England's arm, making him cry in pain once again.

The cries of pain pleased the Empire. The sadistic bitch just watched him fall and hold onto his bloody arm, practically crying at this point.

"W-why?" He sobbed between curses.

"It's nice is it not?" He replied in mock confusion.

He raised his knife once more, but a bang! from the other side of the door made him turn.

"Hm? Wait here I'll be right back." He said, like England had anywhere to go .

He walked over to the door, opening it slowly. He was not prepared for a Scottish teenager punching him in the stomach as hard as he could.

"England are you okay?" He asked, making his way around the agonised country towards England.

"Y-yeah- fuck it hurts." He clutched onto his arm. "W-wait how d-did you f-find m-me?"

"I have my ways-"

"Okay you're in for it now!" The Empire charged towards them with his knife, still firmly in his hand.

Scotland dodged and helped the English country up as the knife dug into the wall.

The 2 literally sprinted out of there, leaving the Empire pissed and more pissed.

"God dammit, I should've gone for his legs first," he thought out loud, "yeah, I'll do that. This isn't the end."

He thought for a few moments.

"Wait how did he break into my house?"