Alright alright alright, hi hi everyone!
Interesting fact about me. If I go without writing gore for a month, I start to go through withdrawal. This is the love child of needing to write gore and wanting to write Snapped!Canada.
"Open wide, Alfred!"
Matthew smirked as he lifted the fork to Alfred's mouth. The blonde refused to accept the offering of food, instead choosing to yelp like he'd been struck with a pin.
"Canadia, why are you doing this? Please let me go!"
Matthew growled, setting the fork back on the plate and letting his fingers graze across the top of the table. They eventually wrapped around his favorite tool, the one still stained red from last night.
"Don't...call me... Canadia." He leaned closer to the whimpering man, making a small cut next to the base of his collarbone. A sliver of red marking the normally pale skin, oozing tiny drops of plasma. More cuts soon joined this tiny graze, moving their way up to Alfred's jawline like tiny, bloodstained footprints.
"S-sorry, but please, let me go! I never did anything bad to you! I'm..."
A crystalline tear rolled down Alfred's cheek and landed on the concrete floor with a small splash.
"I'm your brother, Mattie."
Matthew was silent for a few seconds, then began to laugh hysterically.
"Brother?" Matthew adjusted his grip on the knife. "Don't give me that bullshit. Years and years of being forgotten. Of missed birthdays. Of never. Being. Noticed." The blade of the knife traced its way across Alfred's throat, leaving a bright red trail in its wake. A bloody red smile.
"Don't worry, Alfie darling. By the time I'm done with you, you'll soon be unrecognizable as well." He set the knife down and let his fingers graze over another tool, one he'd used often enough to know exactly how it worked.
"This is called a spile, Alfie. Want me to show you how it works?"
He grasped an electric drill, with a fine, sharp point that was honed from years of working with wood.
"First, you have to make a hole." Matthew placed the drill below Alfred's shoulder, up against a bright blue vein. Alfred screamed as the tool bored into his chest, splattering red across his once white shirt. Matthew ignored the man's screams of pain and pressed harder, humming under his breath.
"Then, once the hole is big enough, you insert the spile." He set down the machine and picked up the long, slender tube of metal. Alfred moaned in pain as Matthew pressed the tube into the hole in his chest.
"Then we wait until the sap flows out." A bucket was moved under the tube, and Matthew waited in anticipation for the sweet, sweet fruit of his labors.
A few drops of red slid through the spile and plunked into the bucket. This was followed by more, and more, until a steady stream of red was flowing out of Alfred's chest and into the bucket. Alfred moaned and screeched, but Matthew simply removed the metal and slapped a bandage over the wound. He collected the bucket with care, examining the contents with insane glee in his eyes.
"Perfect. Isn't it beautiful, Alfie dearest?"
He set the bucket on the table and gingerly dipped a ladle into it. He poured the red milk onto the plate from before, humming as he went. Once the spongy dessert upon the plate was drenched in his delicious concoction, Mattie picked up the fork once again.
"Open up, Alfie. Don't make me ask you again!"
This time, Alfred accepted the bite, blood red syrup dribbling down his chin as he chewed. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, causing Matthew to chuckle.
"Better."