✨oneshots | countryhumans (DISCONTINUED). ✨

poland | gore, angst

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

slight rust coating the trigger.

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

rhythmic steps.

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

the sharp sound from the whip.

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

children crying.
fire in the streets.
bombs exploding inside homes.
ashes everywhere.

a little girl's doll laying cold and abandoned on the pavement.

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

then silence;

don't waste your words. his mother's voice scolded. you never know when you might run out.

he couldn't scream. he couldn't cry for help. he would never be heard.

a low grunt was heard behind then man. he cautiously opened his eyes, to find a shadowy figure standing in front of him. he wanted to breath, but he knew it would be a waste of precious air.
a lighter was lit, revealing the mysterious figure.
he already knew it was him. he just wanted to believe it wasn't. he was clinging pathetically to that last string of hope.

"polen, polen, polen." the man chuckled dangerously. "how wonderful to see you again,"

taking a step forward towards the tied up country, the kidnapper tossed his lighter into the air, and back to his gloved hand. "do you like games, polen?"
no answer.
"i sure do. especially stragetic games. where you either win, or fail," he gritted his sharp pointed teeth at the last word. he was not one to be associated with that word, as he was the exact opposite.
"mind games are my favorite type. you can't expect to do something and have the lesson be engraved in the subject's mind. you have to engrave it yourself."
he looked again at the white and red country in front of him.
"you don't use aggression, no, no. you act with wit. when you have to do some dirty work, you do it quick, yet unforgettable."

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

"co zamierzasz zrobić, nazi(what are you gonna do, nazi?)" he sneered.
"i don't like that name you used." he said in a murderous tone as he looked back up at him. "you address me as sir, or third reich. nothing else, you hear me?"
"but no worries!" he grinned manically again, waving his hand and showing off his teeth. poland hated those teeth. so sharp and....he didn't want to think about it. "this will just add on to the lessons i must teach you."

"what do you remember about your childhood, polen? playing in the feilds with lithuania? maybe." he took a quick survey of the smaller country's face. "but what do you really remember?"

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

"you remember your mother, don't you?" poland froze. "such a kind woman. what a shame she had to die."
"you keep the memory of her close to you, don't you?" he nodded slowly, chuckling to himself. he knew he had the red and white country scared.
"what was that one thing she taught you, again? remind me."

"don't waste your breath. you never know when you might run out."

he never wanted to hear those words coming from the nazi. there were things only some people were allowed to say. the third reich was not one of them.
"don't say that." he growled under his breath.

"oh, i'm so sorry," reich mock-apologized. "did i hurt your feelings?"
his face turned cold as he leaned in to glare menacingly at poland.
"don't waste your breath, polen. you never know when you might—" he held a knife to his throat.

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

"—run out"
in the blink of an eye, his throat was slashed open. blood poured down his shirt. "i know everything. you can't hide from me, polen. you can't hide."
digging the knife in deeper, continuing to cut through the sensitive muscle. the sound of his throat ripping was music to his ears. "don't waste your breath polen."
something snapped. that something was a hard white substance, pieces of it now leaking out along with the pool of blood. "would you look at that, it's a bone!"
"oh right, you can't see the floor in this position." nazi grabbed his jaw and shoved it to look down at the floor. "that, my dear polen, is a part of your hyoid bone. truly remarkable, is it not?"
his victim let out a sound.
"hmm, i don't like that noise. let's take care of that, shall we?"
"no," poland begged quietly, mustering all the strength he could.
before he knew what was going on, his vocal cords were slashed open and thrown on the ground.
the last thing he heard before passing out into the river of his own blood was;

"don't waste your words, either. those are far too precious,"

and it went dark.

click.
clack.
click.
clack.

the third reich was right. he'll remember the sound of his footsteps forever.
the sound constantly reminding him how he will never speak again.

—————
872 words
oh god this is so shitty i'm so sorry i'm awful at gore and i wrote this at 3:30am pls forgive me
i edited it because i read it again and it was awful bleh so here is the new version
love you all <3