I do not own Hetalia.
Crowded streets all cleared away, one by one,
Hollow heros seperate, as they run,
Matthew Williams.
You didn't know the man very well, only heard from Alfred that he was a quiet, shy boy who's voice never rose above a whisper. You weren't sure you wanted to know him after what he did.
You didn't know what made him snap; perhaps it was a foolish country who asked him who he was? Or maybe he was mistakened for Alfred again?
Whatever the case, it was clearly the Canadian's breaking point, because you witnessed him blow Arthur Kirkland's head off with his hockey stick, blood lust shining in his violet eyes.
You're so cold, keep your, hand in mine,
Wise men wander, while strong men die,
As to be expected, panic quickly set in, and many countries rushed to the door, pushing others in order to escape first.
Matthew chuckled at this, staring then at the few who stayed behind to fight the snapped Canadian. You watched in horror as the heads of Ivan, Ludwig, and Alfred were soon disconected from their bodies, blood splattering all over the walls and spilling onto the floor.
He took a moment to admire his work before looking up, his violet eyes boring into your terrified ones. He flashed you a twisted grin, speaking one word in that small voice of his, though you could hear it quite clearly now.
"Run."
Show me how it ends, it's alright,
Show me how defenseless, you really are,
And run you did.
The moment the word left his lips, you dashed to the door, you heartbeat racing as fast as your legs. You had no time to mourn the deaths, for if you stopped, you would be dead with them.
But where to run?
You finally decided to run back home, to cry in the arms of your parents, to escape this goddamn maniac.
A destination now certain, you sped up, praying he didn't catch you first.
Satify the emptiness inside,
Well that's alright, let's give this another try,
Matthew watched your retreating firgure, a grin still plastered to his face.
He almost considered thanking Arthur for asking he he was, for if he hadn't, the Canadian wouldn't have snapped and had the courage to do all this. Still, you can't exactly thank a person who's dead, now can you? Matthew laughed at this thought, rather pleased with himself.
Not only did everyone notice him now, but he also had the pleasure of chasing down his beloved _. The Canadian walked out the door, allowing himself another laugh. Assuming you ran straight home, you'd get quite a surprise. Whether you enjoyed the surprise or not was a whole differant matter, not that Matthew really cared.
He loved you so much, but you never noticed him. What was he supposed to do, remain in the shadows while some other dumbass country stole your heart?
No, he was going to make sure you saw him and, after what he did, Matthew Williams was quite sure you would never forget his name.
If you find your family, don't you cry,
In this land of make believe, dead and dry,
You ran until your legs could take no more. Screeching to a halt, you threw the door open, almost in hysterics. "Mom! Dad!"
You were only greeted by unearthly silence.
Horror coursed through you as you realized what happened. No...No, he couldn't have! Your heart pounding, you dashed upstairs and went into your parent's room. Your hands flew to your mouth, eyes wide. Laying on the floor were your parents, dead as a door nail, blood splattered all over the walls.
Your eyes brimming with tears, you bit your tounge to silence a strangled sob. You jolted when you felt someone snake his arms around your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "Hello, _."
Your eyes went wide with horror as you recognized the voice. Oh, shit!
You're so cold but you, feel alive,
Lay you're head on me, one last time,
"M-Matthew!" You gasped, furiously trying to escape his iron grip. "Why would you do this? My parents had nothing to do with you, what was the point in killing them?!"
"For you." He whispered, tightening his grip. "I've always loved you, you know. Always. But you never noticed me. So, if all the countries were dead, the only one you'd notice was me. If everyone you loved was dead, the only person left to love is me."
"Y-You're crazy!" You screamed. "Let me g-!" But you were cut off by a sudden blow to the head.
Pain exploded through your skull and you fell to the ground. You looked at the Canadian, black spots dancing in your vision. "Ma...tthew..."
He smiled, raising his hockey stick. "I'm the only one left, _. You have to love me."
And with these words, he brought the hockey stick down on your head and you fell into the darkness.
It's alright,
The Canadian carried your still body back to his cabin, holding you bridal style, grinning. He didn't care about anything else anymore. He had you, and that's all he wanted.
It's alright,
He kicked the door down, strutting inside with a full blown grin. He sat down on the hard wooden floor, placing your head in his lap.
It's alright,
He ran his fingers through your hair, eyes half open, smiling at you. You were his now, all his.
It's alright,
If there's one thing the Canadian knew for sure, it was that he'd never let you go. "You'll be my bride, _." He whispered in your ear. "We'll be together forever.
It's alright,
He kissed your chek, removing his hand from your hair to squeeze your cold hand. "Till death do us part, eh?" He giggled. "Doesn't that sound nice, _?"
IT'S ALRIGHT!
IT'S ALRIGHT!
IT'S ALRIGHT!
It's alright...