Alfred's POV
He's mine. I want all of him. Hugging and kissing is fun, but right now, it's not enough. I want to see what's inside him. Not his "emotions" or "innermost feelings". He's already showed me those. I want to see his physical anatomy. I want every part of him. I want to touch every single part of him and claim it as my own. He let that doctor do it, didn't he? When he had surgery on his stomach, I watched from outside as that stranger cut him open and touched everything. It was unnecessary to touch that much. He let him do it, so why can't I?
"WHAT! You're being unreasonable!" He says. "What is wrong with you!" He says.
Absolutely nothing.
I look over to the bed where he is sitting so innocently, reading his book and drinking his tea. He's so cute when he reads. Yes, undeniably cute, but now's not reading time. It's my time. I get up off my chair and scoot onto the bed crawling up behind him and snatch the book out of his hands. Startled he whips around and stares at me wide eyed. Good. He knows what's coming. I roughly grab his upper arm just as he's about to run, not taking care to watch how much strength I use, and slam him onto the mattress. Immediately he starts to squirm, trying to escape my grasp, but I straddle his waist to keep him down. I scan the room for something convenient to tie him down with, anything will do, he's not that strong. I almost grin when I spot four ties on the nightstand next to our bed. I retrieve the ties and lean over him, tying his wrists to the banisters at the top of the bed, then turn myself around and do the same to his ankles. "Alfred" he asks, voice wavering with what I can only assume to do be fear, "w-what are you doing…" I don't reply. He doesn't need an answer. He's mine and I can do as I please with him. I grab my pocket knife from my back pocket and lift up Arthur's shirt exposing the pale white skin of his abdomen. I examine it momentarily mentally debating on what part of him I should claim first before I finally place the cold blade on the far right corner of his belly where the scar from his operation is still faintly visible. Might as well start there. That mark there is what started my obsession so that's where I'm going to end it. When I'm done and he's been claimed, Arthur will thank me, and we'll both be happy again. I'll be rid of these stupid thoughts and neither of us will have to worry. He'll be mine and mine alone.
With this thought I begin.
" A- Alfred Plea-" His feeble attempt at talking me out of what I'm about to do are changed to a piercing scream as I dig the knife into his skin and drag it, tearing a long gash all the way to the opposite side from where I started. He is open now and suddenly all of the drive that made me want to do this is gone. Tears pour from fearful green orbs as he gasps and cries, yet I don't feel any form of remorse. I feel bored. I watch him wiggle underneath me whimpering in pain and I wonder why I even went along with the idea. What am I supposed to do now? Help him? Apologize? No. I need to complete what I started and at least examine the opening I made. Hero's always finish the job. I reach down and poke the wound glancing up halfheartedly when he screams out in agony. I just don't feel like doing this anymore. My brow furrows and I grip my head as my head spins. What now?