So I was watching this really crappy movie on Netflix called Scary or Die when one of the little episode things was titled I Will Remember You I think and it inspired me to write this. The actual 'episode' has nothing to do with this though, this was all my imagination. Originally this was a short story with my own characters but I don't really post my personal short stories anywhere or show anyone and the idea to make a fanfiction version sounded great. The moment the idea came I wanted to PruCan the crap out of this but then I realized FrUk matched it better which luckily I ship too. Don't worry technically its past FrUk so if you don't like it, it's not major.

"So Miss Alice, can you tell us how you got here? Why, you did this?"

I remember staring at the photo I had earlier torn up with a sense of disbelief. He broke the sick cycle our marriage ran on, we would fight, one of us would storm out, a few days later come crawling back and we would be more in love than ever just to do it all again.

Dying was not part of the cycle.

So of course I was devastated when I got a police call on day two of the angry phase, telling me he was murdered by some serial killer and all his pieces were scattered about the city or buried in a forest for all they knew. I remember taping up that photo I ripped and holding it as if it would bring him back, swearing God and Satan that I would remember him no matter what.

So at first every Friday night I would prowl the market, looking for pieces that reminded me of him. For the most part I browsed because you could never get good quality stuff there and you never know where they came from so in the end I got the parts myself. I had never actually started collecting until that fateful night…

I was driving down to the market when I saw a blond man sitting on the hood of his red car on the side of the road, thumb up in the signature hitchhiker manner. I felt bad for him; in fact hitchhiking was how I first met my husband so I pulled over and opened the door to let the guy in. "thanks but I don't actually need a ride, I wanted to call a tow truck for my car but I forgot my phone. So could I trouble you further by asking to borrow your cellphone?" he asked with a smooth light country accent, and he looked at me through his glasses with these familiarly dazzling blue eyes; eyes that took my breath away every time I saw them.

So I rifled through my purse for a moment and pulled out my phone, tried turning it on and low and behold it wouldn't work. I smiled apologetically and said "If you don't mind waiting for my phone to charge then you can use it no problem" and he laughed, god it sounded like a rich melody and if I could have put it in a jar to keep too I would have.

"so what's the trouble?" I asked as I turned down the radio, the song Horror of Our Love by Ludo was on funny enough.

"Oh just a popped tire, nothing too bad" he said nonchalantly as he slid into my car and leaned back in the seat, beautiful eyes sliding closed.

"oh that's all?" I said sounding surprised "I have a spare in the trunk that should fit and my…husband's tool kit" the word for male spouse tangled in my throat.

"oh, you're married?" he asked with an appropriate amount of interest, ignoring or not noticing my stumble.

"were…I…I'm a widow…" I said uncomfortably as I looked out my window, secretly admiring the electricity that seemed to run through his eyes that reopened in shock through the reflection of the glass.

"I-I'm so sorry! -For your loss and for bringing up such a painful subject!" he tried to amend in panic, he seemed like a foot-in-mouth kind of guy.

"it's alright" I said as I turned back to face him with a small, but reassuring smile.

Rubbing his face tiredly – it was around one am mind you – he said "looks like we could both use a drink right now, I have some vodka in my car – don't worry it hasn't been sitting there I've been keeping it cold" he said quickly. And right then I realized this was destiny, God or more probably Satan; was on my side.

I didn't bother to hide my elation at the news and gave him a proper smile when I said "sure, we'll have a swig to celebrate fixing up your car, can't drink too much when we have to drive" then I popped open the trunk and got out of the car, this man following behind me.

Then suddenly he said "I just remembered I never got your name, mine's Alfred F. Jones by the way" he said as he held out his hand.

"Alice. What's the f stand for?" I asked as I shook his hand.

"Franklin" he answered as he lifted the tire from its hidden compartment.

"Mind if I can you Fran?" you see Francis was my husband's name and all the similarities made me more convinced that this man was perfect.

I grabbed the lug wrench.

"uh, sure no problem only if I can call you Allie!"

As he rolled the wheel to his car I called out from behind, "what brand of vodka do you have?" the touch of curiosity in my voice kept it casual.

He gave me another one of his melodic chuckles and without looking back at me he said "the good stuff, it's in a cooler in my trunk too, was planning on going down to my cabin down in-"

I never did find out where his cabin was.

With one good solid swing to the temple he fell like a tree, and I quickly got to work. Taking his car keys I unlocked his trunk – thankfully it was a bit chilly so I brought gloves – opened the cooler and took the vodka. As I'm sure you all know by now I had a lot of medical training so I skillfully used a plastic spoon I had in my glove compartment to carefully scoop out both of his eyes. I poured the vodka into a thermos that earlier contained tea to rinse it out and refilled it with vodka once more to preserve the eyes in until I could get my hands on something better. Alcohol is good for preserving eyes, not as good as formaldehyde but it works pretty well.

The whole procedure was messy but I got the job done, and luckily the road was pretty much non-existent on most maps so it was a matter of dragging his body out into the woods to let nature do its work.

…Well, I bashed his head in a few more times to make sure he wouldn't be waking up before I left just to be sure.

Then I remember taking off my bloody gloves and rummaging through my purse again, putting the battery back in my phone and staring at the background for at least half an hour as I cried.

'I will remember you' I thought as I started driving again, the eyeballs sloshing around in their container from the sudden shift.

And done! I debated whether or not to just end it at "I never did find out where his cabin was." But I thought it would be better to add in the stuff after in case what she was going to do wasn't implied enough. What did you think? If you still don't understand what happened basically Alice's husband Francis was murdered and she went crazy, collecting features of his from other people and slowly piecing him together. I like to imagine she was almost done before she got caught. and if you don't know the song Horror of Our Love by Ludo I recommend you listen or read the lyrics.