(Warning: this chapter mentions scenes of torture and may not be suited for young children or those with weak stomachs.  Viewer discretion is advised.)

There was a massive pain in his head and leg, that was the first thing Mandara noticed when he started to wake up.  When he opened his eyes, the second thing he noticed was that he was tied to a chair, blindfolded.  He was confused at first, but the memory of his capture came back to him and he immediately tugged at his bonds, but they firmly held him in place.  Even though he had the avian instinct to be calm when he was blindfolded, panic had started to set in and he began to thrash around to try and break free, but alas, the ropes were too strong.  With a defeated sigh, he shifted slightly in the chair and just waited for something to happen, and after what seemed like forever, he heard a metal door open and at least three pairs of boots walk in.

"Who's there?" he asked, he tried to make the question sound more like a demand because the last thing you want to do is let the enemy see you scared.

"Well, well, looks like our guest is finally awake," a voice said from beyond the blindfold.  "Have a nice sleep?"

Mandara's heart almost stopped, he knew that voice, and it was the last thing he wanted to hear.  But despite his fear, he sat up straight and tried to hold a commanding posture.

"Why did you bring me here!?"  He demanded in a threatening voice, "and what have you done with my brother!?"

"How about that, tied to a chair and he's only worried about his brother, how touching," the voice cooed maliciously, "don't worry he is perfectly fine.  In fact, I'd say he's probably looking for you by now."

That hit Mandara like a brick to the face, they didn't have MA, he'd been tricked.  He was broken out of his thoughts when the blindfold was suddenly ripped off his face and he was blinded by the light.  Once his eyes adjusted he gazed at his surroundings.  He was in a small room lit only by one light above him, the room had two boarded-up windows and a table in the corner.  There were three people in the room, two soldiers and a third person, the one who was talking to him was nowhere in sight but the third person he instantly recognized.  It was the country that knocked him out earlier, standing next to the table preening his wings.

"YOU!" Mandara furiously shouted, tugging at his bonds.  The country lifted their head slightly and just gave him an apologetic stare, which took Mandara by surprise.

"Ah, I forgot you two have already been acquainted."  Someone said from behind Mandara.  The Mandarian turned his head to the voice just as the person walked out in front of him, but he was not a person at all.  No, standing there was the one country with who Mandara had been at odds with for years, his worst enemy, Ussr himself.

"Well if it isn't tomato face himself," Mandara angrily mocked, "and here I thought that I was being interrogated by feather-brain over there." He gestured to the other country, who just kept focused on his wings.

"Hey now, no need to be calling people names," Ussr calmly said, "especially since you and my son are both winged countries, you hypocrite."

"Well, considering what I've been put through, I couldn't care less about being a fucking hypocrite right now!"  Mandara snapped, his eyes glowing brighter by the second.

Ussr laughed at his outburst, "what you've been put through, oh Mandara my dear," he walked closer and put his hand under Mandara's chin to force him to look up at him, "we've only just begun," he said coldly.

That cold tone in his voice and the malicious look in his one golden eye was enough to make Mandara shrink back in his chair and softly whimper, much to Soviet's delight, so the communist decided to play with his prisoner a little more.  He released his grip on Mandara's chin and slowly walked behind him, brushing his shoulder along the way.  He stopped where the Mandarian's wings met his back, they were tied closed and strapped to the back of the chair, albeit rather awkwardly.  Ussr began to softly stroke one of the feathered appendages, which earned a yelp from his prisoner.

"H-hey, what are you doing back there, stop it!"  Mandara demanded, he tried to move his wings out of the Russian's touch, but they were firmly tied in place.

"You have such beautiful wings," Ussr stated after a moment, still stroking the feathers. "It must take so long to keep them so shiny and soft, wouldn't you agree Kazakhstan?"  Kazakhstan just nodded, still not looking at the two.

At this point, Mandara stopped struggling, the way Ussr expertly petted his sensitive wings left him melting into his touch, like a dog being scratched behind the ears.  Ussr took notice of Mandara's relaxed behavior and leaned down to his ear, "you like that, don't you?"

"N-no," Mandara murmured, he started blushing in embarrassment that his primal feelings were betraying him.  

Ussr just chuckled, "well if you don't like pleasure, we could always switch to something a little more painful," he coldly teased.  

That jolted Mandara back into reality, now a little scared as he watched Ussr walk towards the table in the corner and start fumbling with some objects on it.  The more he fumbled, the more nervous Mandara became, he was completely at the soviet's mercy, and knowing Ussr, he didn't have any.

Ussr finally picked up a rod-like object and turned to face Mandara, a devilish grin plastered on his face.  Mandara was confused at first until he saw what topped off the rod.  Welded onto the head was a metal cutout of a hammer crisscrossed over a sickle.  Mandara's eyes widened in horror as he realized what Ussr was going to do and he once again began to thrash around in the chair, so hard that the ropes started to dig into his wrists.

"N-NO WAIT, DON'T DO THAT, PLEASE!!!" Mandara screamed, his eyes glowed brightly but this time with fear.  Ussr just ignored his pleads and grabbed a blowtorch from the table.

"Kazakhstan, would you be a dear and remove our friend's shirt please."  He said, turning on the torch and started heating the metal.

Kazakhstan jumped, he turned to his father and frantically denied.  "What, n-no папа I don't want to be a part of this."  Ussr looked at him and raised a brow, but Kazakhstan continued, "please, please don't make me do this, please."  Ussr stared at him for a moment, and Mandara stared too. 

The look on Kaz's face was a mixture of pleading and fear, much like the one the Mandarian had on his only seconds ago.  Mandara's heart sank, this young country, probably no more than a teenager, was being asked to help his demented father torture someone, a fellow winged country at that. 

He was jerked out of his thoughts when Ussr suddenly said, "fine, just go."  He then nodded to the two soldiers who were guarding the door.  They both nodded back and moved out of the way to let Kazakhstan through.  The teen sheepishly walked to the door and grabbed the doorknob but didn't open the door right away, instead, he turned and looked at Mandara one last time.  The two countries locked eyes, Mandara could tell that Kaz was trying to silently tell him sorry so he gave a small nod to tell the teen that he understood.  After a while more, Kaz finally looked away, turned the knob, and left the room.

Once the door closed, Ussr said, "maybe it's better that he doesn't see this."  Mandara turned to face him, but he started speaking Russian to the guards, who in turn walked towards their prisoner.  Remembering what was happening, Mandara began to struggle again, only to be held in place by one guard as the other started to unbutton his uniform.  Once that was fully open, just his undershirt was covering the country.  The guard frowned and turn to Ussr, who had finished heating the branding rod.

"Сэр, А как насчет его рубашки?" (Sir, what about his undershirt?) The guard asked, to which Ussr replied, "hе волнуйся, это всего лишь ткань." (don't worry, it's only fabric) And with that, he turned to Mandara and slowly walked closer.  Mandara was freaking out at this point, struggling so hard that even with the ropes, it took both soldiers to hold him still.

"Soviet Union please, I'll do anything, don't do it, please!" Mandara begged, but his cries fell on deaf ears and the next sound out of his mouth was an ear-piercing scream as Ussr plunged the hot metal onto his chest.  His screams were so loud that they were undoubtedly heard by every single person in the building, but Ussr didn't let up, he kept the metal to Mandara's chest for a full minute to make sure it would leave a mark.

Mandara stopped screaming and struggling by the time Ussr removed the rod, his whole body was numb with pain, and his throat hurt from screaming so he just sat there crying, looking at the hammer and sickle that been branded onto his chest.

"It was nothing personal, Mandara," Ussr said as he set the branding rod back down on the table.  Mandara didn't look up when he spoke, so the communist walked back over to his prisoner and grabbed his chin again, "It is to show everyone that you belong to me now and that your country belongs to me."

"Y-you'll ... n-never ... win."  Mandara weakly gasped, unable to form words due to the pain, but Ussr just chuckled.  "I already have, my little Songbird."

He let go of Mandara's chin and the country's head flopped down onto his chest.  Ussr then spoke to his soldiers, "Я хочу, чтобы к шести вечера он был в своей камере, чтобы ему предоставили постель и простыни, дважды в день кормили, и чтобы его раны были должным образом перевязаны, понятно." (I want him in his cell by 0600 tonight, he is to be supplied with a bed and sheets, twice-daily meals, and his wounds are to be dressed properly, understood)  The soldiers agreed and saluted him.  

He then added in English, "oh, and until then, feel free to have fun with him, so long as it's not life-threatening."  The soldiers chuckled maliciously as Mandara weakly raised his head, frightened of what was just said.  And with that, Ussr walked out of the room, leaving a helpless Mandara at the mercy of his two soldiers.

(Note: for those who made it to the end, I just want to say I'm sorry, but unfortunately it only gets worse for Mandara from here.  Hopefully, Mandara Army finds him soon, but I guess we'll find out next chapter.)