Germany sighed. He was beat from a hard day's work, and was looking forward to coming home and relaxing.
He opened the door, and immediately brought a hand to his nose and wrinkling his face from the disgusting smell in his home. "What the fuck?" he muttered, noticing that his three dogs didn't greet him as usual. He opened his eyes wide, panic rising in his throat as he noticed a trail of blood on the carpet, and gasped when he saw the rubble of furniture in the family room, with desks flipped over and the red velvet curtains torn off, the windows broken and shards of glass littered around the room. He saw the broken body of a dog near the kitchen, and raced towards it, but kicked it out of the way when he saw the blood spattered all over the white walls.
"GILBERT!" he screeched, grabbing his blonde hair and clumps and pulling on it, his knees shaking and his eyes watering from the pain. He looked around and found another of his dogs shoved lazily into a boiling pot of water, the stream rising and filling the room with a disgusting damp scent. The pots and pans had been thrown onto the ground, dented and broken, large blood puddles flooding the title ground. "Fuck, no!" Ludwig groaned, his shoulder sagging, felling hot tears streak down his usually monotone face. He raced downstairs into the basement, and flipped the switch.
He screamed in agony after stepping onto an organ, an intestine of some sort. Millions of them were thrown around the room at random. He cried, finally ripping out a clump of hair in a firm fist, blood cascading down the side of his face. He screamed even louder at the searing pain in his head, it was the worst feeling he ever had. He threw half of his scalp down and collapsed against the stone basement wall, gasping in horror at the sight in front of him.
It was Gilbert, but someone had sawed off his arms, leaving strings of flesh holding onto the stubs of his arms. From the mid-back down someone had stripped him clean of his flesh, leaving only his crimson-stained spine behind. One of his eyes had been gorged out, leaving an empty eye-socket behind. His hair was specked with blood droplets, and his back was caked with thick chunks of his flesh and blood. His large intestine was strewn around him like mock versions of snakes, slithering around, readying to strike at the German and take him next. As Germany stared at the corpse of his older brother, his lungs gasping for air, his vocal chords aflame, his head pounding and bleeding, he opened his mouth wide when Gilbert's corpse raised its head slightly and mumbled something inaudible at him.
"What?" Germany asked, his stomach turning as Prussia raised his head and managed to choke out: "I'm sorry." before his head being stomped upon by a large rubber boot. Germany's ice blue gaze floated up the boot, then to the blood-stained leg, then to a large torso, then, in his utter confusion and shock…