hetalia dance with me the rain (eye for an eye)

Alone, sobbing in a corner was a little girl at the age of five. One of her bright (e/c) orbs was torn out of its eye sockets. Poor little (y/n) could nothing more than weep blood stained tears. How could papa do this to her? She didn't mean to let that teardrop fall in front of him. Her (h/l), (h/c) locks were covered in grave and dried up mud.

'I'm sorry papa,' she said to herself, 'I didn't mean to be born.' The more she remembered her father's abuse, the more she felt the need to die. Why? Why did he hate her so much? She never caused any trouble, and was always silent. She minded her manners, and made sure to get everything done, that need to be done. (y/n) even did work around the town in order to make money for her and her father. She asked for so little, and yet never got anything but a slap upside the face. Now she lays here a bloodied mess.

Papa went too far this time. He came home drunk, again. It never bothered (y/n) much. In fact she liked it when her father was drunk, for at least she knew he would pass out soon enough. But this time was different. He began throwing objects in the fire place, one of them being her prized teddy bear that her mama got her when she was first born. (y/n) of course, still being a child, began to tear up over this treatment. Hearing her sobs, her father turned around holding the blow poker in his dirt covered hand.

"How dare you cry, after everything I sacrificed for you?!"He growled in complete rage before grabbing her arm and stabbing out one of her puffy, tear filled eyes. What he did with it was of complete horror and disgust. The cruel man took the eye off the end of the iron poker, and squished it over his open mouth, drinking up all the juices.

The girl got the hint of what her fate will be if she stuck around any longer so she took off running who knows where.
Now here she sits, curled up in fetal position trying to nurse her wound. She felt around her surroundings, not able to see clearly. Her fingers landed on a small, smooth object. Picking it up to examine with her only eye, she noted that it was a small necklace with what appeared to be a small heart-shaped container made of glass. There was a dark substance inside swirling around in a pattern. Curious enough, (y/n) opened it up to see what's inside. The substance shot up after she opened the top, almost like a geyser, forming a dark figure. The person began to become clearer. (y/n) noted this person to be a man. His hair was red, and he had green eyes. She also noticed his bushy eyebrows, and well-kept suit.

"Hello little girl, are you the one who summoned me?" He asked in a strange accent. Scottish maybe?

"Umm, y-yes?" She was unsure of herself.

"It's okay sweetheart, I ain't gonna hurt you. How about you tell me your name? I'm Allister Kirkland by the way." He held out his hand in introduction.

"(Full name)" she took his hand and shook it. "Now why don't you tell me what happened to your eye little lass?"

"My papa got mad at me for crying so he punished me." Allister growled in annoyance. How dare he lay a hand on this sweet little girl? Allister may be a demon, but he would never think to harm a child like this.

"Well maybe we should pay your papa a visit." The man smirked mischievously.

"What are we going to do!?" (y/n) cried in fear of going back.

"Have you ever heard the term used an eye for an eye?" The small girl nodded shyly. "Well it's time to put it to action. Also don't call that man papa anymore." He looked down at her.

"Why?" She asked confused.

"Because that is what you will be calling me from now on."