(Russia x America) part 9

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If you're quiet enough did you know that you can hear the earth breathe beneath your feet? It can be so clear that it echoes and thumps like a heart beat. As if a body was buried, sleeping just beneath the surface.

When my paranoia had subsided the wind and the snow seemed to die down and became calm. I made my way back to the house, but as I opened the door the air seemed just as cold as it did outside. The fire had died and the lights turned off. I searched and noticed America's coat was gone as well.

"That idiot".

I shut the door behind me and began my search. At least the blizzard had stopped, but the snow still continued to flutter. I called out to him a numerous times, but of course a reply could not be given. It seemed hopeless to the snow canceling my voice to the fact that America can't speak. What was I to do?

I stood there in thought and eventually I could hear it. I looked down at the snow and listened eager to hear it once more.

"...thump..."

It was almost as if I could feel it a soft thumping beneath the snow. It was a weak sensation, but from then on I knew exactly what to do.

I stopped and listened with every step I took, searching for which direction the pulse was the loudest. Once I had used this ability of mine when I was younger hunting rabbits. It wasn't hard to learn it just came to me. I suppose when you've been outside in the snow since birth a sixth sense is given to make surviving this lands harsh terrane.

It didn't take long for the sound of the heart beat to lead me to what I wanted. I watched my feet as if I could see those soft ripples of sound. Eventually I stopped to investigate a faded puddle of blood soaked deep into the snow. There were smaller lighter patches of blood leading away just a little off to the right. In that direction was a steep decline in the geographical makeup. I looked below seeing that same trail of blood and followed it with caution.

I wasn't partially apathetic as my expression was written, but nor was I really worried. It was inevitable, right? America had to die by the end of this game. I made sure that the final outcome would be me in the end. Even if he did manage to survive all this he'd still be in that house voiceless and forgotten.

Yes, I knew that when the final hand was dealt America would have no choice but to fold.

I carefully slid down the steep hillside avoiding the trees and stones that hide in the path. It was rather difficult even for me to maneuver it without slipping. I can't imagine anyone surviving it injured. I held tight to the naked branches of the winter trees and made my way to the bottom where the blood trail had finally come to an end.

If America were to slowly die out here in the cold, unable to even call for help, I wouldn't care. Not the slightest but of remorse in my conscience. Even if he had regrets, or final words. I would refuse to carrying out his last wishes, but if I said all this I would be lying. This ache in my chest is that very proof.

In my mind the craziness began to stir but I did my hardest to keep my expression the same collected and cold as I looked down at America. He was curled up with his back against a tree covered by a thin layer of softly fallen snow. He couldn't have bled out, it's too cold for someone to bleed out. The blood should freeze as it hits the snow.

I will say I was unsure whether he was alive or dead, but a strong feeling in my gut told me otherwise. I knew my enemy's well therefore my gut was not wrong.

"Get up".

There was no answer not even the slightest of movement in return.

"I said get up America", I tried again.

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