Countryhumans Oneshots

The Identity Of The State

Illinois took another sip of his drink, rubbing his eyes as he stared at the paperwork before him. After immortality, the paperwork was probably the worst part of being a statehuman. It wasn't even necessary paperwork; it was politicians asking Illinois to tell them how the state would feel about laws and then ignoring him to pursue their own political goals.

Why was he even doing this again?

Illinois sighed and pushed the paper aside, deciding to focus on his drink. He could do that later when he didn't feel like getting drunk.

Maybe Utah was right. Maybe Illinois did have a drinking problem.

Before Illinois could think about that more, he heard the door open, which was odd. This wasn't the house he lived in as the State of Illinois, but his human house. His siblings shouldn't be coming here. Pushing aside his nervousness, Illinois set down his drink and stood up.

"Hello? Who's there?" Illinois called, hoping he was hearing something. He didn't hear anything else, and he was beginning to think he misheard before something hit the back of his head. Crying out in pain, Illinois collapsed to the ground, kicking out with his feet as he fought the pain in his head.

"HELP! H—" Illinois screamed, hoping someone would hear him. He couldn't bring himself to the country world, as he was in human form, so Illinois fought with everything he had, even as another person joined in on the assault on him.

What did these crazy people want?

Illinois was grabbed from behind and pulled to his feet as another blow landed on his face, causing Illinois to slump over, fighting through the pain in his head, trying to muster the energy to fight back.

"Ngh—stop. What'daya want?" Illinois mumbled. He wasn't given an answer; instead, another blow landed on his face. This time, Illinois didn't even have the strength to keep his eyes open as his consciousness began fading.

So, Illinois slowly stopped struggling and let the darkness take him.

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When Illinois woke up, the first thing he registered was the pain in his head—blinking slowly as he tried to put his fuzzy thoughts together. He tried to move but was stopped by ropes. Illinois struggled a bit, realizing that he was tied to a chair. He tried to look around, but something covered his eyes, either a bag or a blindfold.

Illinois' head was fuzzy, too, and it was hard to fight off the urge to sleep. His head bobbled as Illinois fought to keep his eyes open. The only thing that made it easier was the terror. He had been kidnapped, in human form no less.

What did these people want from him? Was it because of his involvement with the mob? Illinois had already made plans to leave, and New York, Nevada, and he was already planning on faking his death sometime in the next week.

If this was the government or a rival mob and it concerned Illinois' involvement with the mob, he would be in a lot of trouble.

Fuck, why did he do this? Alcohol probably wasn't worth this. Illinois tugged at the ropes, hoping that maybe he would be able to free himself. He couldn't do anything that would out him as the State of Illinois, as being kidnapped as a human was bad enough, and he shouldn't do anything to make it worse.

Suddenly, the bag was yanked off his head, and Illinois let out a slight hiss of pain as the light hit his eyes. The brightness seemed to make the headache worse, and Illinois briefly closed his eyes until the pain had passed.

"Open your eyes, Illinois, and make this easier for all of us." Illinois heard someone say. He froze, despite his best efforts not to, and his eyes flew open in disbelief. Illinois didn't recognize anyone in the room, but he knew who they were.