Shit gets real in this chapter. Just warning you.

Alfred awoke to the smell of bacon.

It was one of the best ways to wake up, for it meant three things.

1, that Matthew was making breakfast. Matthew made the best bacon ever.

2, that with the bacon, there would be pancakes. Matthew also made the best pancakes of all time.

3, BACON FOR BREAKFAST, I mean, come on. Bacon was the best.

Alfred ran to the closet and threw it open, trying to get dressed as fast as possible so he could run downstairs and eat breakfast sooner. The outfit he was provided with was sort of plain, a white shirt with a blue sweater and blue plaid pants, along with a confusing black tie. Alfred wrestled with it for a few minutes, then gave up and decided he would ask Mattie to help him. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, then pulled on his favorite bomber jacket.

There we go, now I don't look boring!

He ran downstairs and slid into his chair, almost panting at the salivating smell.

"'Morning, Mattie!"

"Good morning, Alfred." Matthew, also clad in the uniform, flipped the bacon over to make sure it didn't burn. Pouring batter into a different pan, he asked Alfred, "How did you sleep?"

"Fine, fine, like a log, whatever. Is that bacon I smell?"

"Yes. Lovino and Feli let me make breakfast today as a thank-you." Matthew pulled the side of a pancake up to check if it was done, then let it fall back in the hot pan with a hiss.

"Buongiorno, a tutti. Ho sentito l'odore pancetta, così mi sono svegliato presto. C'è la pancetta?"

Alfred looked confused. "Dude, you're speaking Italian. I can't understand you." Feli chuckled.

"Oh, I do that sometimes when I get tired. I was just saying that I smelled bacon, so I woke up early."

"What do you mean, early? It's nine." Alfred pointed to the wall clock.

"It's Saturday. We can sleep in." Feli yawned before sitting down. "I want bacon."

"And bacon you'll get." Matthew lifted two slices of bacon onto a plate and two pancakes and placed it before Feli.

"Thank you, Mattie!" Feli smiled before picking up his knife and fork. He was about to dig in, but was blocked by Matthew's spatula.

"What about the syrup?"

"Syrup?"

"Maple syrup. You always eat maple syrup with pancakes." Matthew smiled. "Surely you have maple syrup... right?"

"Ve, we've never needed it, so, no." Feli tried to move Matthew's spatula out of the way so he could get to the pancakes, but Matthew kept blocking him with the spatula.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Maple syrup is a necessity." Matthew's face was steadily growing redder, and Alfred noticed.

"Dude, calm down. It's only maple syrup."

"Only maple syrup? I don't think you understand." Matthew's eyes slowly filled with black, and he continued to block Feli with a new ferocity.

"Mattie? You're going into your shadow form again. You need to stop, now." Alfred stood up, and slowly walked toward Matthew.

"Ve, I want pancakes!" Feli kept on trying to get to the fluffy baked goodness, but was continually hindered by the red spatula.

"Matthew, your pancakes are burning." Alfred said, slightly worried.

"They are? Oh, oh dear." Matthew turned back to the frying pan and flipped the pancakes over, his face slowly going back to normal.

"Yay, pancakes!" Feli finally took a bite of the pancakes, and his eyes widened.

"Ve, these are delicious!"

"What's all the fucking noise about? I'm trying to sleep, and here are you idiots going on and on about maple fucking syrup and pancakes and spatulas! Can't I get a break for once?" Lovi stomped down the stairs, now restored to one head.

"Mattie made pancakes!" Feli took another bite, enjoying the taste so immensely that his cheeks turned pink. "Food? Hmm, I guess I can forgive you." Lovi sat down next to Alfred and brushed his hair out of his face. "But I want it now."

Matthew, sighing, slid two pieces of bacon and three pancakes onto a plate before setting it in front of Lovi. "Bon appetit." Lovi nodded in thanks, and dug in. "Damn, these are good!"

"Why don't I get any?" Alfred whined.

"Cool your jets, Alfred, yours are coming." Matthew turned over some bacon to make sure it didn't burn. "This bacon is yummy! It's so crunchy!" Feli was munching on a strip of pork with gusto. Matthew chuckled. "Thank you, I'm flattered." "It's really good. I'm putting you on permanent breakfast duty." Lovi forked another piece of pancake in before chewing slowly.

"You're making me jealous." Alfred pouted, crossing his arms. Matthew, chuckling slightly, set a plate in front of him, the china clinking softly on the table. "Sweet!" Alfred attacked the pancakes, but as he chewed, he realized something was off. "Hey, these are all burnt!"

"That's what you get for being such a nag." Matthew took his own plate and sat down, instinctively reaching for a non-existent syrup bottle. "Oh." Before they could have another outburst, the doorbell conveniently rang.

"Ve, that'll be Arthur! I invited him over today! And he said he'd bring friends!"

"Great, more people." Lovino grumbled as Feli swung the door open.

"Hello Arthur and Arthur's friends! Come on in!" Feli cooed, finger waving at them and smiling. Arthur obliged, along with a very handsome man with long blonde hair, a smattering of stubble on his chin, and a slightly perverted expression on his face, and a man with platinum hair, violet eyes, and a very long, ballet pink scarf.

"Hello, Feli, Lovino, Alfred, Matthew." Arthur inclined his head in greeting. "Allow me to introduce my friends. This is Francis," He indicated the blond, who winked and grinned at them all, "And Ivan." The violet eyed one smiled amiably at them all. "I already told you that Francis is a siren, and Ivan here is a basilisk."

"Ve, what's a basilisk?"

"A monster that can turn you to stone with one look, if it so desires." Arthur muttered, Ivan simply nodded.

"I am very pleased to meet you all! I am sure we will all be great friends!"

"Same here. Maybe...maybe more than friends." The siren smiled, and his words were so melodious and thick, honeyed and dripping with sweetness, that Matthew found himself nodding. "Stop charming them, you bloody frog." The atmosphere disappeared, and Matthew felt rather embarrassed. "Sorry, I cannot help it. It is the way of my kind." With this statement, Francis let out a heavy sigh, and Matthew was alerted to the man's very large, white, wings. "Anyway, it is so nice out today I thought we could tour the village, if that's okay with you." "Ve, that sounds fun!" "Hmph. Whatever, bastards. It'll probably be really cold and we'll have to wear like five sweaters." "Sounds good to me!" "A-Alright, eh." Ivan nodded, his smile unfazed by Lovino's rude attitude. "Sounds okay, da? I cannot wait to show you the village, it is very pretty."

"Hey, Mattie, before I forget, can you help me with this thing?" Alfred withdrew the strip of black fabric from his pocket and handed it to Matthew, who merely smirked and looped it around his neck. His fingers slipped easily and quickly in and out of the fabric, and he finally pulled it closed with finesse. "Thanks, bro. I can always count on you!" Alfred flashed a smile and followed the others out the door, Feli and a grumbling Lovi in tow.

Just before he left, Matthew thought he saw a black patch marking the wall out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head around, he could sense something out of the ordinary. And there it was, a shadow, distorted against the kitchen countertop.

Then it folded in on itself, and disappeared.

"Matthieu?"

...

The village truly was beautiful. The houses were so quaint, little two story cottages made of bricks and wood. The rooftops were all bedecked with snow, glistening with crystal icicles, that they looked like iced cakes. A soft layer of snow went crunch underfoot as they padded through the village, leaving treaded footprints behind. Even with the cold, bright flowers still bloomed, beautiful bursts of color that brightened up the otherwise white landscape.

"This is so beautiful!" Feli chirped, utterly delighted by his surroundings. Matthew was rather charmed by it as well. He looked around, trying to drink it all in. The locals seemed pretty happy too. Happy, and normal. They were everywhere, laughing, chatting, and otherwise having a good time in this crazy world they lived in.

Life is meant to be enjoyed, they seemed to say, even if you're like us.

Matthew watched two men chat with each other, one rather animated, the other just listening with a dazed expression on his face. It was a sight you could have seen anywhere, except that the lively man had two sets of giant spider legs delicately extending from his back, the other, two ram's horns. Matthew smirked, he was going to have to get used to seeing those kinds of things.

"It is nice here, da? I rather enjoy the snow. Back home, it was more like raging blizzards instead of the gentle snowfalls we have here." Matthew looked up to see the friendly basilisk next to him, his scarf flowing in the sharp winter air. As they walked, Matthew noticed something odd. Wherever the man next to him stepped, instead of a crunch, there was a hiss. Matthew looked behind him to see a trail of footprints where the snow had melted completely, instead of partially. The small patches were smoking, and the earth below had lightened to a shade of grey.

"Oh, the footsteps? Basilisks leave venom wherever they walk. It's a nice trait, but it gets really annoying when you want to visit a flower exhibition." Matthew turned to his right to see Arthur, keeping in time with Matthew's footsteps.

"You visit flower exhibitions?" Matthew asked quietly, enjoying the different shades of red that Arthur's face had become.

"I-It's...I didn't...Francis made me, okay?" Arthur eventually managed to stutter out. He tucked his tail in between his legs like a dog and rubbed the back of his neck.

"But of course I didn't, mi amour." The siren had overheard their conversation and was now strutting toward them, his wings spread outward to shine in the sun. Looking closer, Matthew could see how the tip of each feather had a slightly golden sheen, as if dipped in glitter.

"You like my wings?" Francis smiled, slowly stretching out his unusual features to their full length, about six feet. "They are very showy, no? Very, very pretty." He turned his attention back to Arthur. "I just asked if you wanted to go, and you heartily agreed. Besides, I thought you liked the english roses."

"You bloody frog! You used your charm on me! I didn't even remember getting in the car! But...the roses were nice." Arthur growled again, pushing the siren off of his shoulder.

"Aha! See? Roses are the best flowers."

"I said english roses. Your disgusting french roses will never be as good as the breed I know and love."

"Actually, the rose originated in China." Matthew murmured. Francis staggered back as if he has been shot.

"Such lies you spew from that ungrateful tongue!"

"Ha! Your beloved french flower originated in China! Suck on that, frog!"

This fact stunned the siren, and he was silent for several minutes.

"Why do you call him frog?"

"Because," Arthur said matter-of-factly, "He thinks himself a swan, with his large, 'beautiful' wings and all that crap, and the opposite of a swan is, in fact, a frog. A disgusting, slimy, frog." Arthur stressed the last part, drawing out the syllables so Francis could hear.

"You wound me." Francis murmured, his tone brooding and melancholy. "Is it my fault I was born with these appendages? These handicaps that allow me to actually enjoy beholding my looks? My one pride?"

Arthur gave him a sympathetic look, the smile dropping from his face. "Bloody hell, Francis, I didn't mean it like that." Francis looked down at him, once murky eyes brightening. Their faces slowly drew closer and closer, Francis tipping Arthur's chin up with a long forefinger. Arthur leaned in to meet Francis's lips, his cheeks turning a healthy shade of pink. They had but merely grazed each other's lips when Arthur came to his senses and gave Francis a hard slap across the face, leaving a stinging red welt.

"Wanker! I don't even know why I bother with sympathy, it's always a goddamn ploy for attention!" Arthur screeched as the blonde skipped off, cooing like a dove.

"Ah, but it worked, non?" Francis chuckled, hiding behind Ivan.

"Anyway," Arthur hissed, "I was going to ask if we wanted to stop at our house, warm up a little, but now my mood is ruined so I don't think I'll bother."

"I would like to go to Arthur's house, da?" Ivan asked amiably, rubbing a section of his scarf between thumb and forefinger. "The cold is getting to the little shadow walker." This was true, Matthew's face was slowly turning blue and his teeth were chattering. Francis immediately swooped down upon the young boy, enfolding him in his large fluffy feathers. Matthew didn't mind, they were warm and soft and really quite comfy.

"Ah, poor little Mattie, all cold and sad, how tragic!" The blonde shrieked, nuzzling the top of Matthew's head with his cheek. "You're strangling me, eh." Matthew choked out, feathers brushing against his nose and inducing a sneeze. "Tishoo. Your feathers are tickly." Francis released the boy, pouting. "Fine, fine. We're almost there, anyway." Arthur took flight, toes skimming the crumbling earth and dark wings soaring behind him. "Ah, he is beautiful, no? A wonder of nature." Francis commented dreamily. "Its a shame that we may never interact. An angel and a demon are forever cursed to be torn apart. Forbidden love, yes?"

"You're not a fucking angel!" Arthur called down from his spot above them. "Just because you have wings doesn't mean that you're automatically a gift from god!" Francis ignored this statement and gestured to a small chalet in front of them.

"Here we are!"

It was rather cute, with blue walls and white shutters, and small flower boxes filled with white and blue blossoms under every window. Icicles hung from the gutters and snow coated the roof, giving it the appearance of a mystical cottage.

"Ve, it's adorable!" Feli squeaked, running to admire the glistening building. "Look, the snow makes it look so pretty!" Arthur touched down next to him before remarking, "Yes, it is beautiful, isn't it?" He led them up the brick path and unlocked the door, leading them inside to the warmth. Matthew sighed when he entered as the coziness of the house wrapped around him like a blanket. Francis followed behind, along with Ivan, Alfred, Feliciano, and Lovino.

The living room was also quaint, with china knick-knacks on every shelf and lots of overstuffed armchairs. A roaring fire blazed in the fireplace, and there was an endless supply of warmth and love that seemed to emanate from the whole house itself. As they all settled into various chairs and couches, Francis bustled into the kitchen to make hot chocolate. Alfred launched into a story, punctuating it with various hand gestures and causing laughter all around, Matthew included When Francis returned with the hot chocolate, the room had come alive with the sound of laughter.

...

"For the last time, reveal yourself, or we will have to punish you!" A sick crack echoed through the room, followed by a shriek.

"Like, never. That would be idiotic." The victim hissed, baring his teeth in a growl. "In that case, we might have to resort to force." A blow was landed to his stomach, causing another hiss. More blows landed, but the victim stubbornly refused to change.

"Well, that tactic failed. Any other ideas?" A voice commented. In response, the victim's keen eyes caught a glint of metal. It was pressed to his throat, the sharpened end of the blade digging into the skin and drawing beadlets of blood. "Still won't talk?" "No!" The blade dug deeper, tearing a gash in the previously unmarked skin. The blood that oozed from the wound wasn't red, but silver. "A unicorn. Just as we thought." The voice sneered, scooping a bead of blood onto his finger and examining it.

"Well, now we know. We no longer need him." Another voice commented. "True." The knife was pressed to his skin again, sawing through the tendons of skin like butter. "Your nature protects you, makes you hard to kill. But I think we can manage, huh?" The knife kept sawing, causing a guttural scream from the victim. The knife passed through bone, and Feliks' head toppled from his body, a silver stream dripping from the severed socket and pooling on the floor. The knife slashed through the bonds. causing the corpse to sink to the floor. The figures left, not even pausing to look at the body on the floor. The door clicked shut. In the silence of the empty room, the corpse shimmered, before shifting into the form of a pure white horse without a head, eyes vacant and empty. Gazing into nothing.