Hetalia Death Game

Chapter 1: Where are we?

Feliciano woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily and sweating out a river. His hands were trembling with fear- and he didn't know why. Perhaps just another bad dream, like most nights. On some occasions, he would wake up with a pounding head, louder than any drummer and his breathing rates rose up with no explanation. His head was throbbing, his heart beat unmistakably taking over his sense of hearing and everything else with him. He set his hands behind him so he could lay half his body upwards, taking deep breaths. With eyes still closed as usual, he let out a small whimper because of the awful feeling of the sudden surprise, as well as a rushed feeling, a feeling that something was out of touch. But what?

The small Italian lifted his right hand towards his temple and rubbed it softly, letting out a small groan of discomfort as the pounding only got worse. He finally set himself into a sitting up position, legs crossed. His head rested upon his delicate hands as he set them up to hold his head, messaging his scalp trying to do anything to release the pain. His elbows laid on his knees, soon leaving a red mark. He took deep sighs and tried to calm down, but anything other than a sigh came out as a shaky cry. Maybe the headache wasn't that severe, but for someone who's not as well built and a bit weak, this wouldn't come off as 'normal' either.

Tiny sweat droplets curved around his gleaming forehead, soon dripping onto where he lay. After minutes of trying to calm down, his head started to just that, down to a point where he could almost ignore it. But the thought of what caused this feeling took over his thoughts completely, locking away any other thing that doesn't relate to this. These types of things don't usually happen to him, only on some nights when something is out of place, when something doesn't belong.

It was enough to keep still in his position and just try to think, has he forgotten something? Maybe Ludwig told him to do something and he didn't do it - yeah, it's happened before, many times. Too many times.

Feliciano sat there with his hands on his head deep in thought, then realized that it still seemed pretty early in the morning, so it wasn't time to worry about this now, plus he couldn't think well to think what he was missing. The mornings are mean't for sleep, not for panic. Whatever it was, it will soon unravel itself.

Maybe some other problems, but not this one.

He finally released his fingers from his scalp and straightened his back, stretching and letting out a small yawn while doing so. Even though he chose to let go of his thinking for tonight, it was still stuck in his mind- as if this thing needed to be fixed immediately. It seemed really big too, mostly when this happens- meaning when he wakes up thinking he forgot something- he feels like it's a small thing that isn't really important. This thing bothering him seemed like it would change many things, scratch that, many lives.

Quickly, he slumped back into the mattress without care, wanting only the softness of the fabrics to slide up against his bare back and chest- he always slept without a shirt and pants, sometimes he went full blown out nude. Expecting to hit softness and bouncing back up then down, finally resting back to his sleeping position like before he woke up, he was given something else.

"Ah!"

More pain.

His head, instead hitting a plush pillow, hit a rusty metal floor harshly, causing the intensity of the headache to come back worse than before. Since his back hit the floor as well, most of the wind was knocked out from him, leaving him to gasp out loudly from the harsh contact. Immediately he opened his eyes and sat up, shocked and panicked. Ignoring the pounding in his head, he turned around and looked at where he was actually laying upon- floor made out of cold metal. His honey glazed eyes opened wide in confusion and fear, but mostly fear. His hands become cold from the icy floor, how has he not noticed this before?