Russia was stopping by the bank to ask for directions, when the woman walked in.

She wasn't too tall, just around Japan's height. Her hair was a pale brown, like his very own coat. Her skin was porcelain colored, and shiny. Her hair was shiny. Even her Victorian pale blue dress was shiny. Her eyes were black, deep black. A scar that looked more like a crack in porcelain ran through her left eye. Perched on her head were fragmented bunny ears.

She looked harmless. Until she pulled the gun out and started shooting.

Screams cut through the air. Russia had seen the depths of hell, but nothing like this. 

A bullet cut through his shoulder. 

Russia pulled out his magic metal pipe of pain and threw it straight at the girl.

She shattered. Fragments rained on the ground. Porcelain shards of the nameless killer fly through the air.

Then it recollects. Her big black irises shrink, the bunny ears slicked back.

"Shatter." A warped and twisted voice cut through the silence. Two men wearing rabbit masks walk in, both wielding guns. 

"I thought they were dead. Or are you growing soft?" The man wearing the purple vest and giant purple bow tie snarled.

"We've got a fighter." The woman, Shatter, contradicted. 

The other man made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat. "Really?" his voice was raspy, dead.

The first man approached Russia, leaning in. His maple syrup scented breath washed over him. "What's your name, kid?"

Russia was a bit offended. He was no kid. "I-Ivan."

"Well, Ivan, you've got a choice." The man pointed his pistol right at Russia's chest. "Either you join us, or I shoot."

Russia looked down at the pistol. And made his decision.

"Welcome to the Traps, Schizo."