The Maple Effect

Windows were adorned with cut out pumpkins, smiling ominously, knowing so much but refusing to tell. Candy wrappers littered the floor. Even in college, the students had still celebrated Halloween.

The evening light shone through the windows of the psychology professor's lecture hall, onto two men clad in white. One kept his hair in a dignified yet stylish ponytail. His companion looked as if he could take a page from his book; those eyebrows should have been held back. Any other time, looking at the ridiculously long bunches of hair on Arthur's face would have made Francis laugh. But today was a rather serious matter, a mission if you might call it. The mission that was directly related to why all classes were cancelled that day.

"Just went and killed his brother, they say?" A pitying look surfaced in his light blue eyes as he spoke.

"Yes, Francis. We're only here to take him away, so stop snooping in the man's stuff. I already told you, this is bad idea."

The Frenchman poked his bottom lip out at his British co-worker. "He is insane, non? He would not care if we dawdle a few more minutes. Besides, he is secure in the van. Probably still laughing."

The Briton sighed in defeat and flipped through a small pile of papers. His thumb hit a harder object. Curious, he removed a small leather bound notebook from the papers.

"The Maple Effect…" He read, dusting it off.

"Qu'est-ce tu as trouve, mon cher?" Francis hopped across the mahogany desk to sit between Arthur and a carved pumpkin whose features were contorted into a scream.

"A journal, I think…"

"Let me see!" Francis swiped the book from his hands and immediately dropped it. "Mon dieu!"

"It's cold, isn't it? That's what you get. Keep your gloves on. Git." The British man bent down, picked up the book, sat next to Francis and turned the lamp on. The Frenchman leaning over Arthur's shoulder began to read.

It all begins with a typical family. A mother, a father and two children.

They're all happy. The children are loved and the parents are reasonably amiable.

If the oldest child thinks (and they usually do) they are the best at everything and deserve to be treated as so, the Maple Effect comes into play.

"But…what is the Maple Effect, Francis?"

"That's what I'm reading, mon cher."

"Well skip until you get to it, you're boring me!"

"So impatient…" he chuckled softly, skipped several pages and began to read again in his rather accented voice.

Once the older child begins to mess up in school, the parents will focus more on him. This abandons the youngest child. Occasionally the parents will remind the younger child that they love them as much. They will explain that their older sibling needs more attention. They will encourage the youngest one not to follow the same path.

For the most part, they won't. The younger child will continue to do well in school, usually much better than the older child. They will remain loyal to their parents' judgment even after their older sibling has left the house. Once the youngest is an "only child", the parents will finally notice the change in their child.

Behavioral and temperamental changes are noted. The child is rather sweet in public but hates being around their parents. The lack of interaction in the last few years has left them to defend themselves and spending time with the family is now awkward.

Eventually, this all takes a toll on them. It may take a while or not long at all, but this strain will break the child, even when he grows up. It still-

"-Remains deep in their hearts, rooted in their mentality, swaddled in envy."

A shiver traveled the length of Arthur's spine. Francis let out a small whimper.

"What?" The deadly soft, lightly accented voice inquired.

Francis yelped and jumped off of the desk, dragging Arthur with him and leaving The Maple Effect behind.

Turning to face their escaped, mentally ill patient, the British man pointed an accusing finger at the professor, "How did you get out of the van?" while Francis clung onto him, asking "And how long have you been breathing down my beautiful neck?"

Arthur shot his companion an irritated look out of pure habit, and then redirected his attention to the psychology professor.

His hair hung untidily, still matted with the blood of his late brother. He was standing but he leaned on his desk, chin resting on his palm. If not for the situation, one could have compared him to a high school boy staring at his crush.

Dr. Matthieu Williams leered at the two. "Didn't your parents ever tell to stay out of other people's things?"

Francis squeaked: this was exactly what Arthur had told him. In fact, that was what Arthur told him when he wanted to go investigate the scene instead of heading back to the institution.

Arthur held out his hands in a calming gesture. "Dr. Williams, we're trying to get you some help, so please come back to the van-"

"Trying to get me some help, eh?" He glared at the Briton. "I don't need help. My brother needed help." His angry frown broke into a twisted grin. "Arrogant little assholes like him need help from me. Need help from death. " Dr. Williams reached into his desk drawer, pulled out an army knife and flipped it open. "Need help from this."

"Francis, run!" Arthur pushed the Frenchman towards the door. Francis didn't need to be told twice. He bolted for freedom and safety.

Thwack. THUD.

Francis stopped on a dime and spun on heel.

"ARTHUR!"

The professor pulled the knife out of the Briton's neck.

Sluuurk.

And dropped it back in.

Thwack.

And twisted it.

Crunch.

Over and over and over…

Sluuurk.

Thwack.

Crunch.

Sluuurk.

Thwack.

Crunch.

Sluuurk.

Thwack.

Crunch.

Sluurk...

"STOP IT!" The Frenchman screamed, sobbing, immobilized but unable to tear his eyes away. " ARRETEZ-LE! ARRETEZ-LE! S'IL VOUS PLAIT, JE VOUS PRIE!"

Dr. Williams pulled the knife out of the thoroughly bloodied neck of Francis's companion and slowly made his way over to the only other breathing thing in the room.

Roughly, he pushed Francis into one of the chairs, ripped off his shirt and sat on him.

"You monster…" Francis sobbed.

"I'm a monster, eh?" The professor lapped the blood off of his knife. "Let me tell you a story. I was the youngest I was good, I was great in fact. But my parents forgot about me. They paid more attention to my brother. The idiot."

He carved a long line into Francis' chest and kept talking over his screams.

"They sent him to therapy and gave him rewards and encouraged him. I just sat and watched." He continued to carve, holding Francis down as he writhed in pain. "I was good, oh yes, I was very good. But I didn't get anything special. I got good grades, I got a scholarship, went to college, I got a degree, I did this and I did that…"

He leaned back and examined his progress while his victim whimpered in pain. Satisfied, he continued.

"So one day, my brother came to visit me, on Halloween. Talking about how much he loved working at McDonalds. He loves hamburgers you see. He pigged out on beer and candy all night long, in the seat next to yours. Yes…then he fell asleep. Drooling, snoring, and smacking his lips in his sleep. How disgusting it was to watch." He paused. "What was your partner's name again?"

Francis did not answer.

Dr. Williams dug his knife into the Frenchman's shoulder.

"ARTHUR!"

"Thank you…" He continued to carve on his chest again. "I started with his toes first. He was oh so surprised when he woke up, to find himself tied down. I cut every one of them off. And his fingers. I made a cut for every grief he'd ever caused me. His screams were pleasant. Not like yours…yours are more…feminine." He stabbed him in the other shoulder and listened intently to his shrieks, giggling. "Yes, very girly, eh."

The carving continued.

"I saved his eyes for last. He was always proud of them. Bright blue eyes. I have to admit they contrasted nicely with the red." He giggled again. "His arrogance annoyed me, what can I say? Just like your friend there. I hate people who say they want to help you when they clearly don't care."

He hopped off of Francis. "All done!" He surveyed the nearly decapitated body of Arthur Kirkland and the bleeding torso of a gasping Francis Bonnefoy. "Yes, my work here is done."

"Please…just kill me…" Francis whimpered.

Violet eyes dancing with mirth, Dr. Williams chuckled. "I don't owe you any favors." And the professor walked out his classroom doors for the last time.

Screams echoed eerily down the white halls of the asylum accompanied by the sounds of breaking glass.

"Jesus Christ!" The secretary exclaimed. "What was that?"

"Probably Bonnefoy, ma'am." Said an off-duty doctor. "Our new case. Breaks mirrors."

"What's his deal? He scared of his own reflections?" She scoffed and muttered, "Nut case."

"He used to be one of our employees actually. Along with the late Arthur Kirkland. The two were in charge of bringing Dr. Williams here but the ambulance team found him screaming and crying over Kirkland's body. Had to pry him off of it. He's gone nuts. Keeps muttering things about the Maple Effect and not touching other's things." He shook his head sadly. "Always has these nightmares. Keeps screaming and telling Kirkland to run. We have to restrain and sedate him all the time, he's suicidal. And whenever we try to give him a bath, he starts screaming and crying some more. Hopeless, really."

"Is he emotionally attached to the straitjacket or something?" She asked stupidly.

The doctor gave the secretary a scathing look. "There's a Maple leaf carved into his chest, with 'Arthur' written inside of it. We believe Dr. Williams did that before he fled."

"Poor thing."

"Poor thing indeed…" The doctor murmured as Francis was practically dragged down the hall back to his room.

"Mon cher, s'il vous plait, dites que c'est juste une reve, Arthur" He whispered pitifully on the way back to the cushioned, bone colored room where he would end his days. "Dites que c'est juste une mal reve…"

Dr. Matthieu Williams was never found.

I originally posted this on DeviantArt.

This is an AU fiction where Arthur and Francis are Loony Bin workers who are picking up a Psychology professor (AKA Matthieu) who went insane and killed his brother (AKA Alrfred). THE REASON WHY THEY WERE AT MATT'S CLASSROOM IS BECAUSE FRANCIS WANTED TO PLAY NCIS, OTHERWISE THEY SHOULD HAVE GONE STRAIGHT TO THE ASYLUM.
I am really proud of myself. I have done what I thought was impossiblle: I killed off Arthur and Alfred (my own country ;^; ) and made Matt and Francis go insane.

SOME TRANSLATIONS ( I'm a proud french student, merci~!)

non?- no?

Qu'est-ce tu as trouve, mon cher?_ What did you find, my dear?

Mon dieu- My God!

ARRETEZ-LE! ARRETEZ-LE! S'IL VOUS PLAIT, JE VOUS PRIE!- STOP IT, STOP IT! PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU!

Mon cher, s'il vous plait, dites que c'est juste une reve, Arthur...Dites que c'est juste une mal reve…- My dear, please, tell me this is a just a dream, Arthur...tell me it is just a bad dream...

SO HOW DID I DO? XD

Note: Oddly enough, The Maple Effect itself is a condition I thought of, based on my own experiences. Except I wouldn't go so far as to kill my brother! I don't like him much any more though...meh