Words so Contrived || CH

Prologue - Tenebrous

ten·e·brous

/ˈtenəbrəs/

dark; shadowy or obscure.

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A man stands alone in the dark. The air is cold as dark clouds gather above. The temperature felt like it was poking the figure's dark blue skin with sharp needles. Though, even if it wasn't cold tonight, the cracks littering the stranger's body would certainly fill that pricking feeling. With a simple tilt of their head, the man lets the light from above illuminate their face, revealing themself to be the one and the only United Kingdom.

His face is covered in cracks, some pieces already falling apart to reveal a dark void underneath. That's all he felt like now. A dark void. His tired eyes stare at another figure in front of him. Those once determined and stern eyes were now a shell of what they used to be. They were lacking that spark.

UK's felt his lips quivering as he struggled to speak. The figure smiles at the sight and nods, telling UK that he needed to speak now unless he wanted to die without any last words. (Or that's what he assumes.) He had planned to say something meaningful and strong as his final words, to show that he wasn't afraid of death. Even if no one was there to hear him

But now, he could barely find the energy to open his mouth. He could barely find the words to say. Mostly because he was already beginning to physically fall apart. Pieces of his body were falling off. Parts of his soft skin hardened until its texture was similar to ceramic. The stinging pain he felt as soon as a part of him broke off was excruciating. And the humiliation he felt, on his knees, looking pathetic, Infront of his killer, was unbearable. But what could he do about it? Walk out of the door with his legs that were barely functional?

It was futile, he realized. Probably a bit later than he should've.

He couldn't think of anything else. Why did it matter at this point? No one would even know what he said before he died. He was all alone here- all alone with the one person that caused all this.

After a long period of silence, there was only one thing UK could say.

"...Why?" He breathed out, in a desperate, raspy noise barely above a whisper.

-----

"UK?" America called out as he stepped in front of the dark oak door to UK's office. He went looking for the man after he had remembered that he borrowed a pen from him. He just wanted to give it back.

There was no response from the other side. Just silence. Now, America assumed that the country was simply asleep. Was he going to leave and give the pen back when UK woke up? Hell no. He wasn't exactly a patient person. So, he decided to enter the room, without knocking, even if he knew that the old man would blast him about 'knocking before entering' or whatever.

Opening the door, he smelled the familiar scent of lavender. He remembered the UK placed lavender all around his office just to mask whatever bad smell he was too lazy to find the source of. UK didn't really care if his office was messy or dirty until it became unbearable for him, which would force him to find a solution. And that solution wasn't exactly the best one. They often range from stuffing whatever trash he had in a corner of the office that people wouldn't see, to simply throwing shit out the window.

Now that he thought about UK's bad habits, he hoped that UK at least dipped the thing in sanitizer before giving it to him.

As he peered inside, he was surprised to see that the other country wasn't there. UK mostly spent his day cooped up in his office even if he didn't have a reason to, only going out to either get something to eat, or just to speak to someone. Sometimes the guy would stay overnight there, which was strange, and a bit gross considering his poor hygiene. He became withdrawn after WWII, and has never really been the same since. America never really understood why, but he never brought it up with him.