"…The meat is in the fridge, the cereal in the pantry, toilet paper in the closet, as well as towels… what else…I think that's it. If you need anything else, call the neighbor and ask." said a man with a thick British accent. He had emerald eyes, short, messy blond hair, and really thick eyebrows, enough to make Alfred call the man nicknames like 'caterpillar.'
"Don't worry about calling us, Arthur here will be too busy." said Francis, with another accent, but his was French. Francis' hair was chin-length and blond, with a little wave to it. His eyes were a navy blue color, with a little sparkle to it.
"D-do you really have to go?" said the little Canadian boy, Matthew. His hair had some wave to it, too- just like his father, Francis-with a loop of a curl, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't comb the curl back into his hair. His eyes were violet as purple ice, because it had a sparkle to it (again, like his father).
"Oui, mon enfant. We will only be gone for a few-"
"Don't worry Mattie! I'm the hero, so I will save you from loneliness! Don't worry!" Alfred interrupted Francis. Alfred's hair was a sandy-dirty blond, the color was a mix his brunette mother, his blond father-Arthur. In his hair, was an annoying cowlick that refused to obey gravity. His eyes were as blue as diamonds, with a sparkle in it that looked like a star. He pushed his glasses up his nose more. "Meanwhile, can I get contacts? I don't really like these glasses; they keep sliding down my nose…"
"Your glasses are fine, Alfred. We just have to fix them to fit your face," Matthew said, holding his stuffed bear that he named Kuma- something. Nobody really remembered what the last part of Kuma's name was. "I'll fix them when they leave."
"Well, it's getting late, so we should be heading off now" Arthur said, oblivious to the conversation about glasses. Alfred ran up to him and squeezed Arthur really tight and picked him up in the process. This was because Alfred was naturally strong, though both his parents weren't strong at all.
Matthew followed suit, but didn't squeeze as tight or picked his father up; he was strong from all the hockey he played, but wasn't as strong as Alfred. That kid seemed unnaturally strong it scared him.
A few hours later of their parents being gone, Alfred made dinner: burgers, of course.
"It's hero food!" Alfred had claimed during dinner, with his mouth full so it sounded like he said 'issth ero ood!' instead. After dinner Matthew somehow made Alfred patient when fixing his glasses.
"I'm gonna play Call of Duty so I can be a better hero, wanna join?"
"No, thank you. I'm just going to read. Thank you." Matthew politely excused himself upstairs to go to his favorite reading spot: a bay in the small library they had in the house.
Right when he was about to become comfy and started to read, he heard Alfred downstairs yelling for him to do something.
"Whatever you want me to do, do it yourself. I'm reading!" Matthew yelled down the stairs. Crash! "Huh?" Sometimes he heard a crash, it was always because of Alfred playing games, watching movies, or reading books that all scared him. Or he was doing something stupid, but this crash was unlike any other crash. This one sounded like he was trying to get away from something. Or someone. Matthew heard pounding on the stairs, it getting louder and louder.
"Matt! Run to our room! Save yourself! Monster!" Alfred had always been trying to scare Matthew and then trying to make up for it by being the "hero." Something told him to really trust Alfred this time; he never sounded so desperate, so scared, and so breathless in his life. He trusted his gut-as he always did- grabbed a couple of good books to read-the ones to calm him down, frighten him, depress him, enlighten him, entertain him; all emotions in books that should be in them- and ran into the bedroom. This bedroom was a nice bedroom; there was a refrigerator, a stove top, a full bath, and two twin sized beds. All was good.
"No, thank you. I'm just going to read. Thank you." Was the last thing that Alfred had heard Matthew say to him. Currently, he was trying to run away from this thing that was possibly trying to kill him. Heroes don't run away, they defend for the thing they love and care to protect; and I must protect Matthew. He grabbed the nearest thing to him-an Xbox controller- and tried to throw it at him. His aim ended up being terrible; the controller landed next to the thing, not at it. Throwing the controller gave him nothing but a big crash from hitting the lamp.
Oops. I hope I can get it fixed before mom comes home… Mom-Who was really his dad- always acted like a mother to him, and never really a father. His real mom went to war and never came back. Alive, that is… Alfred shook his head from his depressing thoughts and yelled warnings to Matthew to run and go into the bedroom.
Still being a "hero," Alfred was continuing throwing things at the thing, as weird as it sounds. He didn't know what to call it, so that was its name for now. The thing pulled out something that looked magical, the color black-raven! Arthur always corrected him on his shades of black. Not that it really mattered that much. So he ran upstairs (only because I'm worried for Matthew's safety!) not that he was scared, of course.
"Do you really think this is a good idea, Arthur?" said Francis, concerned over his only son's health, Matthew. "You know how they are alone- Matthew being the quiet one and Alfred, well, you know."
Arthur chuckled. "They'll be fine," he said, looking at the camera feeds on his laptop. "Alfred has yet to learn a lesson on messing with my stuff."
"But that's my point! He hasn't done anything yet!"
"But from leaving all the time, we always come home to something broken! I refuse for that to happen again!"
Francis opened his mouth to say that there was already a lamp and controller broken, but he shut his mouth and didn't say anything. He was too annoyed by this man already-he could tell this trip would be a long one.
Matthew heard the bedroom door slam and looked up from his book that he was currently reading. Alfred was pale, shivering and sweaty. He looked so scared, so worried that it made himself scared to what was currently happening that he was unaware of.
As night fell, both boys were too scared to go to bed, yet they got ready and into bed anyways. Knock, knock, knock. The boys jumped, freaked out who it was. Luckily they learned sign language from a girl who couldn't hear.
Nose-goes I'm not checking the door! Matthew signed to Alfred.
No way, I wasn't ready! That's unfair! Alfred signed back.
Life's unfair, get over it and check the door already!
Fine! Alfred looked through the peephole that they had one their door. The reason for this was because this gigantic house was originally a small apartment, so Arthur and Francis (the buyers of the apartment/house) got a pretty good deal.
Alfred grabbed something in case it was a demon or some other monster like the ones in the show Supernatural he watched. A girl, around 4'11", pale skin, and black hair was there, looking down like she was sad. Alfred opened the door, walked through the doorway, and quickly shut it.
"Uh, hey?" Alfred said. "You okay?"
*sniff* "No." the girl said, still looking down.
Alfred crouched down to meet the girls' height. "Why not?" He had completely forgotten that he just fought a monster and wasn't paying any attention sneaking suspicion that this girl could have been another monster.
"I'm sad because I can't find anyone to play with" She looked at Alfred. All he saw was blood-red eyes looking back at him and fear pulsing through him.
She gave him a look of insanity. "Do you want to play with me?" She got up in his face, which he absolutely hated when people did that, but this creeped him out instead of the normal get-out-of-my-face-you're-annoying-me type of thing.
"Uh, no thanks? I have to get to bed right now, maybe in the morning?" The girl looked quite angered and sad. She gave him a look of displeasure and another insane look.
"wRoNg aNsWeR!" She went at him, hitting and chocking him or even trying to what seemed like wanting to rip his guts out. Alfred remembered about the board-which he had picked as his choice of weapon- and hit he smack in the middle of the head so hard it broke. She looked shocked, and then crumpled to the ground. Alfred quickly ran back into the room, shaking once more. He turned around and fumbled with trying to lock both locks on the door. He ran to his bed and got under the comforter, clutching the broken board he had in his hands.
"You alright there, Alfred?" Matthew whispered.
"No-n-no-o… I am definitely not alright." Matthew decided that this was really freaking him out, so Matthew went to the last resort of calming down Alfred; reading him a bed time story, or two. Matthew would probably have to use two. Thankfully he grabbed some books. When it came to an emergency, he was good with picking out all the right books. Matthew started reading the book, but after no more than 5 minutes, Alfred was passed out, exhausted from monster fighting and anxiety. Matthew got out of Alfred's bed and went to his own, falling asleep as he put his head on the pillow.
The next morning, Alfred shot up in bed, screaming. His screams were so loud that it awoke Matthew. Matthew rushed to his aid, trying to calm him and wake him up at the same time. When Matthew finally got Alfred to wake up, Alfred had this look of fear on his face like he had a nightmare that seemed too real.
"Are they gone?" Alfred asked with a shaky breath.
"I don't know, but I'll go check if you want." Matthew replied. All Alfred did was nod vigorously, so that's what Matthew did. He walked up to the door and with a shaky hand, slowly unlocked it. He opened the door so that it was ajar and quickly peeked through the hallway. Nothing. He slowly started to open the door and tried to get a better look. Still nothing. He finally gave up on trying o be cautious and just opened the door all the way, looking through the hallway with a big sweep of his eyes. Even more, nothing was there. Matthew listened to the sounds of everything, and couldn't hear anything. Matthew turned around and just to be safe, he turned around again, closing the door and locking it.
"So, was there anything?" Alfred said. "Even a trance of anything?"
Matthew shook his head. "Nope. Everything was strangely peaceful and quiet. Not even the broken part of the board was gone." At the same time, Matthew and Alfred's stomach growled like a cat wanting food, or Alfred wanting a burger. Strangely, they both sounded quite similar. "Want to head downstairs and see if anything's down there? And maybe get some food, while we're at it."
Alfred's eyes widened, as if Matthew had been reading his mind, and got up from his bed. That's when both of the boys realized they were both in the same clothes as they were in yesterday. Did we seriously not even care that much to even care about changing into our pj's? Was the question the boys both had in their minds. With a shrug, they both quietly snuck down the hallway and down the stairs. Thankfully, the stairs were blocked off by the wall, so they could sneak a peek at hat was in the living room without being seen. Strangely, everything was back the way it was before Arthur and Francis left. They snuck to the kitchen, thankfully not seeing anything or their stomachs would have blown their cover.
Matthew looked at Alfred and said "You know what to do on a Saturday morning when you're hungry?" Alfred nodded, running to the pantry to grab Bisquick and other materials for breakfast. Meanwhile Matthew was already in the kitchen, heating up a pan with sizzling butter on the hot pan. Alfred tossed Matthew the Bisquick and chocolate chips and actually aimed at the counter instead, which was a great achievement instead of a great failure, which happened so many times that everyone lost count of his greatest failures. In less than 5 minutes, Matthew already was pouring the batter on the pan, it sizzling and fogging up Matthew's glasses that he wore when he fell asleep. Later, the chocolate chip pancakes were being served, with all the years that he had done this, he still knew how much batter he needed when a certain amount of people were there to eat them, or just to make some for early school morning breakfasts. This is what they did every weekend, so it's no wonder how they easily fall into routine.
That night, after hours of boring homework and playing games, it was night time. During a (couple) round(s) of Assassins Creed: Unity and Call of Duty, Matthew franticly looked around for the clock to see what time it was, just to make sure that another monster didn't come by at the same time the first one did. Time passes by so fast that the boys never realized what time it was, so they wanted to be safe today and go to bed early("With food, Matthew. Awesome food" Alfred had said). Sadly, they were a little too late; the monster came around the time the other one came at, which was around 5:00 p.m., which was the time at the moment.
Matthew- not prepared for melee (hand-to-hand combat) and only good at hitting people with a hockey stick if it came to defending- had to reside in running up the stairs and into the room, as he did last time. Matthew-being really nice to his brother for once- decided he needed to help, so he frantically looked for his hidden hockey stick (so Alfred couldn't find it). When Matthew finally did, he ran downstairs, shaking from fear.
The monster made Alfred want to throw up, again. It looked like some cartoon character vomiting the scrambled eggs they had that morning, alongside green and red peppers in the eggs that they ate (Although its healthy, Alfred had thought to himself.It tastes good). Its eyes were glowing red, like Gilberts' eyes. Why do all these monsters remind me of Gilbert, especially because of their eyes?! Alfred thought to himself. He heard pounding on the stairs, like someone running down them. Matthew appears and tries to dodge the monster attempting to hit both of them at the same time.
Matthew came up randomly, hitting and swinging the hockey around- like a crazy person would obviously (and stereotypically) would do- while Alfred tried to find that could be easily replaced, but alas, he did not-only his Xbox controllers that the night before he had realized what a total failure that had been.
The monster –sadly, yet annoyingly expected- rose back up and gave them a couple bruises (which they later on found out about). Not wanting defeat, the boys retreated into their room once more.
Yet again the little girl visited, which the boys declined. She started hitting the door so hard that they swore they heard the door crack. The most embarrassing part about that night-even though they refuse to admit it- the boys were curled up and backed up into the wall, while hugging each other like there was no tomorrow.
A couple of hours later, the girl finally gave her last big wail, and left. They didn't even bother checking-or even moving. They were so scared that they fell asleep. In this case, Alfred wasn't admitting that he was scared; he just simply states that he was exhausted from defeating bad guys/monsters/whatever-you-call-thems.
The next day, Arthur and Francis got home. Alfred ran to Arthur and hugged his leg, clinging on to it like it was his only chance of survival. Matthew ran up to his father and hugged him, happy to have both of them back. But that was before Arthur saw the mess. Both boys (and one adult, obviously Francis) was attempting to calm the furious Arthur by explaining what had happened the nights the adults were gone. Francis was just attempting to calm the British man down in general.
"I had only sent two monsters to scare off Alfred, so why was there three?" Arthur mumbled to himself, oblivious to the fact that everyone else heard him. The boys eyes widened in fear. The original so-called "monsters" had been ordered to scare poor Alfred a little. But the third never was one of Arthur's summoned monsters.
During the next month, the every man was looking throughout the house in search of that little demonic girl, but she was never to be found again. While this event was happening, they all carried some sort of (terrible, in my opinion) weapon; Francis a broom, Alfred a baseball bat, Matthew a hockey stick, and Arthur a magic wand with a razor sharp gold star on the top(Arthurs crazy, I know).
Later the night of the end of the month, they had gotten the daily newspaper and looked at the news articles. The demonic girl they have been looking for was an escapee from the insane asylum. She was later found dead in the abandoned house, hanging from a single thread.
Francis, Alfred, Matthew and Arthur later found out that the newspaper was from 3 years ago. The year is now 2015. The newspaper is dated in 2012.
A/N: Sorry this sucks sooo much, but I tried. This is know the official first fanfic I had ever made. I am currently very busy (school, annoying parents), but I am making a PruCan (OTP) fanfic, so for all of ou PruCan shippers out there; get ready for some good feels! ...and some bad ones...