Part 4
Matthew navigated his way through the dark house quite expertly, Alfred trailing just behind him. Alfred's mind was racing, and he silently thanked the darkness as he was pretty sure he was still a little flushed. When Matthew stopped suddenly in front of one of the rooms at the end of the hall, Alfred almost crashed into him.
"Al, I remember how I said I did all of this for you?" Matthew was turned toward the door, not even facing Alfred as he spoke. It was especially dark down this hall, where there weren't any windows, but Alfred's eyes had adjusted just enough to be able to tell he was smiling rather serenely. Matthew suddenly turned to face Alfred, "I want you to see what 'all of this' is, okay?"
Reaching forward, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. He took a couple of steps into the room, Alfred still staying at his heels. Whatever was in this room, he knew he wouldn't like it, but if it had made Francis shriek like that… He had to know what it was.
It was pitch black in the room, to the point where it was near impossible to just see your hand in front of your face.
Matthew clicked his tongue in disappointment a few times, "Oh, how disappointing… I guess I have to tell the truth now…" There was a click as light flooded the room, and Alfred immediately raised his hand to shield his eyes. Blinking a few times, he let his eyes now adjust to the brightness as he turned to Matthew, who had his hand on the light switch. "Sorry, Al. I lied about the wiring, I guess~"
Matthew was staring passed Alfred, who turned to follow his gaze. As he turned, he noted they were in the guest bedroom, where Alfred normally stayed when he stayed over for the night. There was much, however, that was radically out of place. First off, it looked kind of like it had been rather sloppily ransacked, as a few drawers were pulled out of the dresser and clothing and various other articles were strewn around the room. Also out of place was the amount of red around the room. There were handprints all over the dresser, the walls, the articles around the room, the floors… Not to mention the pool of red in almost the middle of the room. Gulping, Alfred let his eyes follow the trail leading from the pool to a crumpled mass in the corner. It took him a moment to identify just what it was. Of course, from the blood leaking from it, it was obviously a body. And that was the back of a head… White hair…
Alfred felt sick once again as he stumbled back a few steps, his hand pressing over his mouth instinctively. His eyes continued to scan the room, immediately attracted by movement. In the other corner of the room, opposite the body of Gilbert, was Francis, staring like a deer in the headlights with his gaze fixed on Matthew. He was standing behind what looked to be a kitchen chair with another figure slumped in it. Alfred took in the other figure for a moment, using every ounce of his willpower to not only stay on his feet, but also not to get the hell out of the room.
It was Arthur, probably unconscious (or at least he hoped) and splattered with blood. Francis was kneeling behind him, probably trying to work at the knots keeping Arthur in the chair.
"M-Matthieu… Y-you…" Francis stood shakily, stepping back a bit. He never took his eyes off of the Canadian.
With each small, shaky step Francis took back, Matthew took a large, springy step toward him. By the time Francis had his back to the wall, Matthew was hovering over Arthur. Francis looked slightly relieved when attention was turned from him toward the unconscious Englishman, as Matthew kneeled down to look Arthur straight-on in the face.
He just knelt there for a moment, not moving, before reaching two fingers up to touch Arthur's throat. Closing his eyes, he seemed to stop breathing for a moment as he listened. Suddenly, another creepy smile slid across his lips as he abruptly stood, pulling his arm back.
"Oh! He's actually still alive! I was scared for a second there!" He turned to Alfred, the smile never leaving his face. Alfred realized his face had to be betraying his confusion (probably along with his mortifying terror), as Matthew returned his stare with a casual smirk and continued, "What, Al, you think I want him dead?"
Matthew quickly closed the distance between himself and Alfred, a strangely peppy bounce in his step. Alfred instinctively took a few more steps back, bumping into the wall as Matthew stops just a few inches in front of him.
Matthew raised his hand, the one he'd used to (Alfred presumed) Arthur's pulse to reveal a bit of blood staining his index and middle finder. "We already agree that this stuff tastes terrible fresh, image how bad it must be old…?"
There was a seductive look in his eyes, but his lips held fast in a playful smile, "Even so… I guess it could be a taste worth getting used to…" He brought his fingers to his lips, slowly dragging his tongue along the length of his fingers, keeping his eyes locked with Alfred's the whole while. Alfred couldn't help but admit that if it were anything else on his fingers, the action would have been hella sexy.
Alfred was taken aback, though, when Matthew got a good amount of the liquid actually on his tongue. He grimaced almost violently, scrunching his eyes closed and pulling his hand away from his face suddenly.
"Uuuugh..! God, that's rancid…!"
There was a moment of confusion from Alfred, as Matthew's entire cool-and-collected-psychopath routine just disappeared. Like before, it was like he suddenly just returned back to his usual self. The confusion was heightened, of course, when what could only be described as a gigglefit erupted from the corner.
The corner where Gilbert lay, bleeding out.
Author's Notes: Ah, Gilbert, you and your gigglefits giving everything away...
Hope the long wait was at least kinda-sorta worth it OTL Sorry I take forever to write stuff. I've actually been writing a lot lately, though, so maybe I'll actually get more up regularly, at least over the next couple weeks or so...? ^ ^;
