The Beautiful World (Hetalia Oneshots)

Nameless/Spain

Character: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo/Spain

Warning: none that I can think of..?
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Spain.

It's a beautiful country full of bullfighting, dancing, and sunny beaches.
A culture rich nation that attracted many people to its beauty.

Well, it used to be at least.
Before the apocalypse.

When the dead started raising, and people turned against eachother things fell apart.

Nations tried desperately to help their people, but it was no use.
When the national borders fell, all the nations could do was try to survive.

And that's where we are today.

A Spanish man walked down the pavement of his old town.
This man in particular was the personification of the same country he found himself in, Spain.

Though, since the country borders have fallen, there was not 'Spain' anymore.
As sad as it is to him, it was more appropriate to call him by a different name now.

The name Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.

The warm breeze blew his dark brunette locks of hair into a lazy dance. His emerald eyes search the street for any signs of life.

Sadly he only saw trash, blood, and the occasional dead body.
Luckily enough, Antonio didn't have too many run ins with dead. Just a few here and there.

Antonio was beginning to grow anxious. He hadn't seen a living person in almost a month, nor had he heard from his friends across the globe.
Though the lack of communication from Italy worried him most.

That's actually where he was heading now. He was heading to the Rome in hopes of finding survivors along the way.

Even though the trip to Rome from where he was currently in Bilbao would take a about a week to get to, it would be worth it to hopefully find someone who isn't dead.

So he walked down the street, keeping a sharp eye put for anything out of the ordinary. He wore his military uniform, his jacket tied around his waist to avoid keep coolers in the suns warm rays.

His tan pants, and white tanktop were stained with dirt, sweat, and blood.

He had a rifle around his shoulder, and a pistol on his hip. His backpack contained military rations, water, and a couple dozen rounds of ammunition.

He kept a tactical bowie knife held tightly in his firm grasp. The long steel blade was darkened, and crusted with dried blood from its undead victims.

Antonio wasn't fond of killing them, for he still had hope that they could be saved.
But you do what you have to do to survive.

'What I would give for a shower..'
Antonio though to himself as he wiped his sweat covered forehead on his arm.

Sweat beaded against tan skin, never stopping it seemed.
The heat of the summer had started to get to him. He had to find somewhere to lay low to cool down.

He took a seat under the shade of the overhang of a small bakery called Arrese. He loved visiting this bakery to get freshly made churros, and talk to the friendly owners.

Sadly, all the food inside would be spoiled by now, and besides that the place had been raided already based on its broken down appearance.

Antonio sighed as he shrugged of his rifle and bag. He leaned against the wooden door of the bakery and took a long drink from his bottle of water.