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She carefully walked down the uneven stony path as she eyed the ruined cottage. She could still hear the buzzing sound of the hand grenade that Netherlands has thrown down the path. Some leftovers of the wood caught on fire, but she tried to ignore the heat. As the two country arrived, Netherlands laid a hand on her shoulders. "Be careful, France. Let me go first."
He was holding an really old carbine. He almost wore no armor whatsoever. His army clothing was made out of cotton, only his helmet was made out of steel. His belt pockets were filled with outdated bullets.
France felt like she was responsible for getting Netherlands involved into the war. After France has declared war on Third Reich for attacking Poland, Netherlands had called for her help a few days later. Apparently Third Reich had attacked Belgium and him, so he would have a better gathering place for his soldiers. She felt guilty.
Netherlands pushed the wooden branches that were left from the door out of the way. As he stepped into the tiny cottage he saw a few dark red sport of blood dotting the wooden floor. He panicked at the sight. Where they too later?
France followed him and took a deep breath as she eyed the the stairs to the basement. There was an indefinable sound coming from there. Her breathing got heavier as she thought of what might be downstairs. She wished her husband would be here right now.
Netherlands was the first one to have enough courage to go downstairs. The old wooden stairs squeaked loudly under his weight. As he looked up, a pair of mad eyes stared back at him. The room was not well lit, but he could still make out Belgium's body laying under his enemy. Netherlands eyes widen in shock at the sight. There was blood slowly dripping down Belgium's lips and bruises covered his hands, which were clenched into fists. Luckily, he was still breathing. His breaths were uneven though and tears were dripping down his face. Netherlands eyes went down to Belgium's stomach. It was covered with stab wounds. There was no way he could stand up anymore and defend himself against the German. Belgium's eyes were filled with fear.
France bumped into Netherlands. After giving a quick apology she looked over Netherlands shoulders and her breathing stopped. Third Reich, who was sitting on Belgium's knees a moment ago, stood up and threw his knife at Netherlands' direction.
Netherlands flinched as the knife just barely scratched his cheeks and then got stuck on the wall behind him. He almost let his old carbine drop, but then pulled himself together. "Stop this madness instantly or I will not hesitate to shoot you, Reich!" He screamed at the top of his lungs and aimed at the German's head, but Reich just laughed. "Oh please," he started his sentence and pulled out a semi-automatic pistol from his belt. "Your bullets wouldn't do shit to me."
Netherlands clenched his teeth together and pulled the trigger. To his misfortune, Reich decided to shot one second earlier than him. He didn't shot at Netherlands' head or anything, no he shot at his right hand. Reich's bullet arrived earlier and his receiver screamed loudly in pain as the bullet burst through his hand's skin and a fair amount of flesh burst to the outside. Blood splashed out of his hand. The bullet got stuck halfway in his flesh and Netherlands pointed his old carbine down in discomfort, thus his bullet hit the dirty floor. Eventually Netherlands let his weapon fall to the ground with a loud noise. His knees followed soon after.
Now kneeling on the dirty floor, Netherlands pressed his healthy hand against his wound to stop the blood from pouring out of his damaged hand. France was in such shock, she forgot how to move. As Reich stepped closer Netherlands, he began to sob uncontrollably in fear. He reached for his carbine, but Reich kicked it away.
"Stop it!" France screamed and Reich looked up in surprise. "Oh, you are here too?" Third Reich asked mockingly. He pressed his pistol against Netherlands' forehead. The smaller country was shaking like a leaf. "Do you want to watch me, while I shot his brain's out?" He asked her with an insane grin on his face and Belgium's screaming was audible in the background. He was begging Reich to stop while attempting to keep his own pain and shock under control.
France had a pistol hidden in her boot, but if she would try to pull it out now, it would be already too late and Netherlands' brain remnants would be scattered on the dirty floor. The thought of it wanted to make her throw up. Her vision was fuzzy and her head felt heavy.
Belgium felt so helpless and useless as he laid on the ground while pressing his hands against the wounds that were inflicted on his stomach. He wished he could somehow help, but he wasn't even able to breathe properly at the moment. If he did one wrong move he would surely bleed out in under two minutes. He gave France a sad smile as if to wish her good luck.
France quickly tackled Reich after eyeing Belgium. Reich fell on his back and gasped for air. He accidentally triggered his pistol from the surprise attack and shot into the ceiling. This caused some dust to drop on their backs. The basement wasn't built bullet-proof at all, the walls were only made of wooden boards and dried mud.
Netherlands took this chance to scrambled to his feet. He grabbed for his old carbine, but he knew he wouldn't be able to shot with only one hand. Instead of shooting, he hit the forehead from Reich with his weapon. It was powerful enough to give Reich a little headache, but not enough to knock him out.
The German grabbed for the old carabine with his free hand, while still having his own gun in the other, and then twisted it around, forcing Netherlands to drop the old carbine again. His damaged hand still hurt like hell. Afterwards Reich threw France off himself and forcefully dropped himself on her stomach. He pointed his gun at Netherlands again. The smaller country took a step backwards and almost stumbled over Belgium by doing so.
"Wait! Wait!" France punched against Third Reich's stomach, which lead to Reich now holding his gun at her forehead instead. "You wanna die first?" He asked with an angry expression. "No, I surrender. You wanted me, right? You only attacked them because of me, right? Then I surrender. Please stop hurting them."
She now began crying. She felt like this was all her fault. She should have attacked Third Reich earlier or maybe she should have attacked him without declaring war first. She should have attacked him in surprise! Beat him with his own weapons! It was all too late now. Her only wish now was that Belgium and Netherlands wouldn't die. She wouldn't be able to endure seeing them both die right in front of her eyes. Big fat tears made her way down her pretty face.
The dirty basement was filled with silence, then a chuckle. Third Reich leaned down to her face and wiped her tears away with a firm grip that made her squirm. "Sure. Your territory is mine now, Mon Ami." She felt utterly helpless.