A series of oneshots with gore, mutilation, raping, and nations gone psycho.

You have been forewarned...

Chapter one: We start with Greece. Sometimes you can take a love of cats too far...

He opened his eyes. Where was he? He was lying on a soft, comfortable bed, head propped up by a wide feather pillow and limbs draped with a thick quilt, and it felt nice. The warmth was comfortable, like being sheltered in an egg with only a thin shell between him and the world.

Twitching boredly, he began to shift under the blankets. The heat was stifling. He pulled the covers away from his face, relishing the cool air on his skin, and regretted it almost immediately. A hand clapped over his mouth before he could shriek in terror, and unusually bright and alert amber eyes searched his face carefully. They seemed familiar, but he didn't know why. He wished he could return to the safety of his blanket-cocoon, but like a chick (chick? sounded familiar-) out of its egg, the guard had been shattered.

The man smiled ferally, baring his pointed teeth and hissing slightly. "Time to play, little cat. Where are your whiskers? Let me sew them on." Pulling a fistful of needles from the table beside the bed and pushing him down by the chest with his other hand, he stroked his cheek, messy and slightly curly brown hair tickling his bare skin. Something sharp dug into the soft flesh of his face, and he looked down to see a long, thin needle being thrusted into his cheek. He could feel the skin and muscle being pierced straight through so that the needlepoint pricked his gums and added to the blood already trickling down his throat.

"But you've got to match, kitten." Another needle broke his other cheek. "Three more whiskers." Six more jabs of pain. "There, you look much better." The man gave him a murderer's smile and tugged at his ears. A knife began to shave off bit of cartilage and skin that fell to the sheets with a soft flump. Biting his lip to hold back screams until it drew blood, he blinked and tears welled up and streamed down his swollen face. The man leaned back to admire his work, nicking off scraps of skin that still hung to his ears to make matching pointed triangles of mangled tissue on either side of his head. He could feel blood starting to pool in his ears, filling its labyrinthine structures and seeping into the ear canal.

"Perfect," he breathed. Raising the knife as if to put it away, he wiped it clean on the sheets and brought it down again to cut his ears off in one clean stroke. Unable to restrain himself, he let loose a scream, panting harshly as he felt crimson liquid drain and drip from the now holes on the side of his head. A thicker needle poked clumsily at his scalp, and he felt his bloody ears being sewn on with rough thread, retching and jerking as he felt the flesh being reattached to his head.

"Cute little cat...we'll have to trim your paws! Look at those claws." He turned away for a moment, long enough for him to gasp and regain his bearings, but before he could bother trying to escape. A ringing noise filled his head, the sound of his voice distorted and dim from the lack of his ears. The man had brought back a pair of tweezers. He took one finger in his warm hands carefully, almost contemplating it, before grasping the clean nail with the tongs and pulling. He shrieked again as he brought the nail before him, still dripping with bits of raw flesh, tearing each nail out one by one. Ten nails lay lined up neatly on the white blanket, flecks of blood spotting what was once clean. Dropping the filthy tweezers with a clang to the floor, he took his right hand and snapped it in half, slicing the muscles off with the knife and ripping the bones cleanly out of their joints as he would a crab's claws as he ate the meat inside. Picking up one clear nail, he smiled again and jammed it into the empty socket, repeating the action for each hand.

"But where's your tail? Or do you have a short one?" Grunting in exertion, he flipped him over so he lay on his stomach, and pushed the blankets to the end of the bed. "I'll find it for you." Carving a small but deep hole in his lower back, the man worked with an air of craftsmanship and perfectionism, chiseling away bits of excess tissue until he hit the bone of his spine. He squeaked in horror, clawing desperately and groaning with pain as the nails dug deeper into his sensitive hand-stumps, but to no avail.

He reached one blood-smeared hand into his back and grasped his spinal cord carefully, gingerly, pulling and twisting up. He yelled again, feeling something crack, bolts of pain shooting up his spine as his neck went limp. He continued to drag the chain of bone upwards, and like pulling metal supports out of gelatin, he flopped helplessly against the bed.

"And for the finishing touch..." He took it in both hands and bent it at an obscene angle as he screamed and went limp.

BWAHAHAH! Written for my dearest friend nom-nom-CHOMP on deviantart because he liked one of the gore-stories I wrote.