Introduction

This is experimental. Please don't flame me for any hiatus. Because most likely, that will happen.

Matthew Williams settled into his bed, snug as a bug with his bear wrapped tight in his arms. Alfred was still awake, as always, talking obnoxiously loud on the phone to Arthur about the scary move he'd just watched. Having grown up with the American his whole life, Matthew knew that his brother plus horror flicks equaled… utter chaos.

Smiling, Matthew removed his glasses, and stretched comfortably beneath his warm blanket. Within seconds, he was asleep.

There was darkness… nothing but pitch black, other than being able to see himself. Matthew looked around the abyss-like environment, rubbing his eyes just to make sure that his dream wasn't, well… broken. Matthew laughed, which ultimately turned into a gasp when his breath came out in a crimson vapor. It was fascinating really, and Matthew couldn't help but blow out some more. The vapor swirled around his head like little ringlets, tickling his cheeks.

Matthew could honestly say that none of his dreams had ever been like this one.

After the ringlets of crimson disappeared, Matthew sighed, and slid forth his left foot. Like a trigger, a cloud of dust puffed up, and around him. He coughed, sputtered, and when the dust fell like rain to the black floor, it turned crimson, like his breaths. Matthew adjusted his glasses, and blonde brows furrowed together in confusion.

Interesting.

One more shift of his foot, and the crimson on the floor slithered, and found its way in between his toes. Was this paint? No. It couldn't be.

Matthew bent forwards, and brushed his fingertips along the liquid. With his fingers, he drew intricate patterns in it, then bringing them up to his eyes to get a better look. The smell of iron, bitterness… and the thickness confused him even more. Matthew measured that crimson liquid in between his index finger and thumb.

"What is th-"

Then, it slapped him in the face. The realization of just what this questionable liquid was printed its name in his brain, bringing him an indescribable fear in the pit of his stomach.

"Bl-blood!" He shrieked.

Frantically, Matthew wiped his hand across pajama pants, but paled when the blood would not go away. Instead, it flowed, and trickled slowly down his forearm. Matthew was so scared, that he wanted to cry. His breath came in short pants, exasperated, and terrified. He had to wake up… he had to wake up!

"Do not be afraid, child." an ominous, although beautiful voice echoed from behind the Canadian blonde.

Matthew jumped, losing his glasses, and almost slipping onto the bloodstained floor. He was still breathing hard, almost too hard. Why was this happening to him?

"The blood will not hurt you."

"Who-who… who a-a-are you?" Matthew's voice was not his own, at least, not from what he remembered. A new feeling was starting to fill him, and that was almost as terrifying as the new being standing in front of him.

Matthew's eyes widened at the sight of a mirror image. He stared into it, not quite sure where the mirror had come from. All Matthew knew, was that he was staring at himself, but at the same time…

"I'm who you want to be."

"N-no… I don't…" Matthew's tears were falling now, and he struggled with the ability to stand. Why did the person in that mirror that looked like him look so… not?

"Taste the blood on your hands, Matthew."

"You're not real!"

"I'm as real as you are. Now…" the reflection stepped out of the mirror, clasping ice cold fingers around a frail wrist.

Matthew gasped.

The creature standing over him was nothing like he had ever seen before. They were marked with intricate tattoos along their foreheads, and extending to their neck. Eyes, a deeper violet than those Matthew was familiar with, dilated, and captured Matthew with an inescapable bond. Matthew couldn't move, not even in the slightest. He was stuck there with no way of knowing whether or not he was going to live…

"Taste the blood and become what you are destined to be."

"LET ME GO!" Matthew screamed, shooting upwards in his bed, clutching the covers to his neck while he breathed a heavy breath, as if life itself depended on it.

His eyes wide open, Matthew could see blurs of everything in his bedroom. From the giant Canadian flag on his ceiling, to the cluster of hockey sticks standing in the corner next to his closet. Matthew patted for his glasses, which he knocked off the nightstand. Inwardly, Matthew cursed himself, and leaned over the other side of his bed to search for his eyes.

However, the lump next to him wiggled, and Matthew sucked in.

"Nnnnnghhh." Another voice moaned.

Without even thinking, Matthew wrapped his fingers around the Maple Leafs alarm clock next to his lamp and brought it down onto the head of the wiggling thing beside him.

"Fucking hell!" it shouted, sitting up as well, and almost falling off the bed.

Matthew rubbed his eyes, still holding the alarm and preparing himself for another attack. Matthew shook his head when he realized who the thing was.

"Al! What are you doing in my bed!"

Alfred, who had taken it upon himself to crawl into his twin brother's bed, glared, then shifted his expression into one so pitiful, "I… I… wanted to make sure you w-were safe tonight."

"What are you talking about, you hoser, get the hell out!"

"Mattie! Please! I think there's something awful in my room!"

"Ever stop to think that maybe it's your dog?"

Alfred did stop to think, but for only two seconds, before wrapping his arms around the blonde in front of him. Matthew groaned.

"I heard you whimpering in your sleep, Mattie."

"Wh…wha?"

"Did the movie scare you too?"

Matthew pushed Alfred a little, "That's it… I'm confiscating your horror movie collection in the morning and sending them all to Arthur."

Alfred sighed, and snuggled back down into his brother's much too puffy, but comfortable pillow. It was obvious the American was not going anywhere.

Matthew shrugged, shaking his head. Maybe it was good Alfred was going to sleep with him.

Maybe it was good, considering Matthew didn't want to be alone either.