I'm reading a book about psychopaths and how to identify them and traits that define psychopathy and stuff like that.

It's fueling my Ivan right now.

AND…. Things might be a little dark in this chapter. It's a little… Bittersweet once you get past the… well… I'll let you guys just read.


"This is strange… Usually he's a maniac about his phone…" Arthur flipped through his inbox again.

Are you working late tonight? – Sent 6:26

Hello? Alfred? – Sent 6:35

Where are you? – Sent 6:54

Alfreed? – Sent 7:16

Arthur glared at his phone. He had called, too. So many times had Alfred gotten on his case about answering his phone… And he was usually glued to it during the day. He even had a charger at work, so it wasn't like he wouldn't just charge it if it were dead. It didn't make any sense.

Where was Alfred?


"S-Sir…" Eduard stared at his shoes as he addressed the larger man, "W-What is that noise?"

BANG BANG BANG

Ivan looked up from the book he was reading and smiled remembering. "Oh, that is just my target. I figured that he could stay in there a while. He's really quite angry you know." He returned to the book.

BANGBANGBANGBANG

Eduard stared out the window. The sound of Alfred pounding on the inside of Ivan's trunk was penetrating the wall.

BANG BANGBANG

"H-How long has he been in there…?" Eduard asked himself. He had forgotten Ivan was in the room too.

Ivan looked at his watch and thought a moment, "Well, I went and got him right after he got off work at six-ish. So Maybe an hour and a half or so. I really like those old cars. My new car had a latch in it that let people get out of the trunk if they needed to. It was not a good thing." He returned to his book.

BANG BANG BANG

Eduard fled the room.


"Well nothing tonight is making sense…" Arthur stared at the closed sign in the window. The diner was closing earlier because it was getting closer to winter time, so it wasn't too weird that it was closed early. But the light in the kitchen was still on. "Do they usually leave that light on?"

Arthur felt the need to investigate; after all, Alfred was probably here. The door was surprisingly open, "Alfred," He called, "Are you still here?" He followed the light into the kitchen.

"Can you get a positive ID on the body?" Inspector Bielschmidt asked another officer.

"Feliks Łukasiewicz. He's Polish. Age 19. He works as a drag queen down town as a second job." The officer handed him a pink leather wallet, "Here's all his identification." Ludwig nodded and walked out of the kitchen to the booth where Arthur was sitting. "Hallo, Mr. Kirkland. Are you doing alright?" He asked.

Arthur nodded wordlessly.

"Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?" He asked.

Arthur met his eyes, "Ask away," He replied. His voice was terribly empty.

"Vhen did you come across the body, exactly?"

"Just before I called you. Around seven twenty." Arthur replied. He started chewing on his fingernails.

The inspector hummed in response, "And you did nothing to ze body?"

"No, goddammit! Why would I?" He kept chewing. He wanted to pace, but he had to answer questions.

"Zis is just protocol." He placed a firm hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur shrugged it off, "Mr. Kirkland, did you know zis man?"

Arthur nodded, "He works with my," He paused. He didn't really know what to call Alfred. Well, not officially, "He works with my friend." He concluded. "Alfred, my friend, Alfred, he hadn't come home yet and he wasn't picking up his phone." There were so many thoughts going through Arthur's head, "I just—I just wanted to see if he was still here. Oh god…"

"Vhat is Alfred's last name?"

"Jones. It's Alfred F. Jones." Arthur froze, "You don't—you aren't suspecting him are you... He won't hurt anyone he only helps people, he's a fucking hero!"

"Sir, I am only doing my job. I understand zat he is a friend of yours, I just need to collect data." He cleared his throat, "You said that Alfred hadn't come home… It vas out of the ordinary zat he hadn't returned?"

Arthur stared at the table, "We had made plans and I didn't know why he wasn't answering my calls or anything. So, yeah, it was weird." He felt so exhausted. He was not prepared for this. Not even a month earlier, he was sure he could kill The Hero… But seeing a body… Seeing a body in the condition that Feliks was in… He had never realized just how cruel that act could be. "Am I finished, inspector?" He asked.

"Yes, yes, you may go." Arthur stood and walked out of the diner. He didn't think he'd ever see that many flashing lights outside of a cop show.


"You ever go to the drag show down town?" Alfred flipped through a magazine. He had been acting a little absent the whole night.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, "You're joking, right?"

Alfred shrugged, "The guy I work with, Feliks, with a 'k' too, isn't that cool? Anyway, he works there." He sighed, "I dunno. He's so nice… Dating the other guy I work with, Toris. He's from Russia or something…"

"What are you going on about?" Arthur glared at Alfred.

"Well… Feliks was talking about quitting. Traveling again. I dunno, if he quits then Toris'll quit, they're dating and all. And I dunno. Guess I'm just feeling a bit down." He rolled onto his back. "They're really nice and stuff."


"Uh...uh… h-hello?" Toris's eyes widened, "Oh my god, are you alright, sir?"

"You're Toris, right?" He nodded, "I saw something tonight…" He paused, "It's about Feliks." Toris stared, confused. "He's… Toris he was murdered."

"What?"

Arthur shook his head, "Alfred is missing and Feliks is dead. I don't- Toris… I'm so sorry."

Toris stared at Arthur, expressionless. No denial, no questions. He just stared. "I have to go now…" He said and turned back into the house.


Things were going quite horribly for Lovino. Every elbow brush, every meeting of eyes, every little thing that was so utterly normal was suddenly embarrassing. Horribly so. He had little bits of the dream engrained into his memory. His subconscious's idea of how soft Antonio's mouth. The pleasure and ecstasy of sex itself and then the knowledge that it was Antonio doing it. The ache and desire to feel it for real.

"Mi amore, you are acting strange. Are you feeling alright?" Antonio asked Lovino.

To that, the Italian flushed and averted his eyes. "I'm fine. Just fine." He said quickly.

"Are you sure? You seem… anxious…" Antonio returned. He sat on the couch next to Lovino who scooted farther away.

"I am fine, stupid. I am not…" His voice faded. He glared at Antonio but only regretted it. He stared into Antonio's eyes. Deep green. Mesmerizing. His lips looked warm, inviting, soft.

Antonio chuckled, "Not, what?" He asked, scooting closer.

Lovino licked his lips and turned away, growing incredibly red, "Not anxious!" He replied. He really hadn't wanted something this much ever…

"Did something happen last night? My love, I am at a loss. Please, is there anything I can do?" I leaned in and when Lovino turned to glare once more, their noses were touching.

"No. I don't need your help." Lovino stood and started to leave huffily.

Antonio sighed, "Mi dios will you ever realize just how much that kills me." Antonio whispered.

Lovino, who was standing in the doorway felt a sudden pang of empathy- which, mind you, was a feeling that Lovino very rarely, if ever, he felt. And the worst part was that he was at war with himself whether he should give up the tough guy act and just go for it or let it pass.

"I had a dream last night…" Lovino said. Loud. He tried to sound confident. Antonio shot up, embarrassed that Lovino overheard his thought. AND he was curious, "You were in it and…" Lovino swallowed hard and his face felt like it was burning, "And some things happened. And now I don't know how to act around you!" He stomped over to the couch. He figured anger was better than surrender, "I'm nervous and angry and always on edge and it's been so long since you started whatever the hell you are doing to me and I don't know how to react anymore because after that dream I don't want to say no!"

He quickly covered his mouth. He really didn't know what he just said. Antonio stared on, shocked.

"I-I…" He swallowed hard, "Y-You're just such a damn bastard and…" He felt like crying. Why whywhy did he do that!

Antonio stood and placed a hand on Lovino's warm cheek. "Mi amore, is it alright if I… kiss you?" Lovino's eyes widened and he looked at the ground. And didn't reply, "If you don't say anything…" Antonio tilted Lovino's face towards his own. He could feel the blush radiating off of the smaller boy, "I'm just going to do it…" His voice was a whisper.

Lovino closed his eyes and savored the moment. It was nothing compared to his dream. It was so much more. He knew that he was going to remember this the next morning. He knew that Antonio was real this time.

"I hate you so much," Lovino whispered and pressed into another kiss. Deeper this time. "Mio Dio I hate you." He kept repeating. But he didn't want to stop. Ever. Finally, the damn bastard did something right.


Arthur knew that he wasn't going to get a reply, but he kept texting and calling Alfred. Panicked was an understatement. For all he knew, the cops could be after him this minute. All local news channels were buzzing. The story was already huge.

"There is no sight of Buttsecks City's hero, and right now it seems we are in most need of him. Word is that the notorious Russian hitman, Ivan Braginski was seen earlier today at a local diner. Later the body of one of the waiters and alleged drag queen, Feliks Łukasiewicz, was discovered. This is the first murder in Buttsecks city for almost three years. It also seems that one Alfred Jones has gone missing. Fingerprints belonging to Alfred Jones Feliks Łukasiewicz, and Ivan Braginski were all discovered at the crime scene. Police say that both Ivan Braginski and Alfred Jones are prime suspects of Feliks Łukasiewicz's murder. Here's Benedict Lucas at the scene of the crime."

"I have been downtown for over an hour now and there is still no word from Inspector Bielschmidt. It seems they are not releasing any information on the investigation so far. Oh here he comes! Inspector Bielschmidt! Inspector Bielschmidt! Please, tell us, have any conclusions been made? Was Ivan Braginski the murderer?"

"That information has been made classified and vill not be released to the public at this time. "

Arthur wanted to cry. Alfred could be another victim. Alfred could be dead. He couldn't kill anyone. No, no, no he couldn't let his mind wander like that. Alfred was going to be fine… Just fine…

"Fuck! No he's not going to be bloody fine!" Arthur threw himself into his bedroom. He needed to find Alfred.


"Why do you hate that one guy so much?" Lovino asked, draping his legs over Antonio's lap.

Antonio hummed a question in response.

"That guy… The Hero or whatever, why do you hate him?" He was growing impatient already. Antonio was such a dumbass.

Antonio smiled, "Because he caused my old restaurant to go under." Lovino's eyes widened and he gawked, "When he left, my other employees decided that waiting tables was beneath them and they left too. Then all that was left was me. I had to sell it." Antonio sighed, his cheerful demeanor quickly demising, "But it wasn't just that. When I saw him again and tried to say hello… He acted like he didn't know me. I felt quite hurt…"

Romano wanted to comfort Antonio, but never in a million years would Romano ever comfort Antonio. "So you… kill him?"

Antonio laughed, "Well at first it was more innocent. I wanted to mess him up. I found out he was The Hero and saw how flustered he was with that silly Jack Union… So I thought what if a band of villains came into town? What if a band of villains messed him up? But the longer that idea stayed in my mind… the more I hated him."

Suddenly, Antonio leapt from the couch and started grabbing at his hair, "Romano I fucked this up Ohmygod I fucked things up shitshitshitshit!"

"Whatwhat?" Romano stood because he felt less powerful and didn't like that.

Antonio bit his lip, "Romano. I need your help…"

"What did you do, bastard?"

"I kind of hired someone… I hired someone to kill Alfred by accident… Oh shitshit what's the date?"

"Twenty-ninth."

Antonio was running to the closet where he kept his stupid costume. "Romano, we don't have much time, please tell me you'll help me save Alfred?" He held up a pair of bright red shorthorts.

"No. No. NononoNO!"


"Oh, Toris, what are you doing here?" Ivan stared, confused. Toris knew when not to interrupt Ivan, and just then was the most important time not to.

Alfred was sitting propped up on the ground, his arms bound behind him and duct tape was wrapped all around his face. There were large gashes and bruises on his face and chest. Blood soaked through his shirt. His glasses were in pieces near Ivan's feet. In Ivan's hand was a large pipe with a faucet at one end. It was dripping with Alfred's blood, but that end was perpetually stained darker.

Toris's vision was blurry. He was furious. "You killed Feliks." He said simply. Alfred attempted to look up, but his exhaustion and new wounds had him on the brink of unconsciousness.

"Who is Feliks?" Ivan asked, completely sincere.

Toris stepped forward, "I can believe that you killed Feliks."

"Toris I believe it is time for you to go. I am getting very angry with you."

From behind his back, Toris pulled a small black object. He aimed it at Ivan.

"When in the world did you get a gun?" He asked. "Why do you have a gun?"

"Because this world has scumbags like you in it." Toris replied, angry tears falling from his eyes and clinging to his eyelashes. His hands were shaking and his aim was worsening.

Ivan stepped forward, growing angrier and angrier. "Put the gun away, Toris." He commanded. "I don't want to have to do something to you."

"Like you had to do to Feliks! Or what you're going to do to Alfred?" Tears were streaming down his face now, his vision completely clouded.

Suddenly. Ivan charged forward and grabbed Toris around the neck. His large hand seemed to envelop Toris's whole throat. "That was a stupid thing to say, Toris. I am so sorry Toris. I love you, Toris. I really, really do. I love you a whole lot."Ivan threw Toris into the room towards the back wall. Toris stumbled back and smacked his head against the concrete. Ivan gripped his faucet tighter.

Toris brought the gun up again and just before Ivan knocked it from his hand, he squeezed the trigger.

The large man caught the bullet in his chest and stood for a moment, his eyes wide and pale skin growing lighter and lighter. The sound of the gun exploded around the room, causing Alfred to jump. Feeling empty, Toris dropped the weapon and stumbled to Alfred. "I'm so sorry, Alfred. I'm so so sorry." He pulled the duct tape from Alfred's mouth. It was wet with blood and losing its adhesion. After freeing Alfred Toris rested his head on Alfred's uninjured shoulder and sobbed.

Ivan gripped his stomach and felt the hot liquid and the wetness on his coat. He fell to his knees. He didn't feel pain. "Do svedanya((Goodbye)) Toris." He said. Toris turned, terrified, a wild look in his eyes. Ivan smiled and collapsed onto the ground.

Suddenly the front door was kicked open and a man ran into the building clad in red, white and blue. "Alfred!" He cried.

"He's in here…" Toris called back faintly.

Jack Union followed the sound and found himself staring in a bloody, room with no furniture or anything. There was Ivan laying with blood pouring out from under him and Alfred with wounds covering his face and body. Then Toris, a small heap of a man fallen, broken, on Alfred's shoulder. He stood and stumbled out of the room, knowing that they would want to be alone and wanting to be alone more than anything.

He paused to stare at the body of the massive Russian. This was the second body he had seen in less than 24 hours. For some reason, he felt less remorse this time. He saw that face on the news. The violet eyes, now unseeing, the large hooked nose… He was the man that killed Feliks and he was the man that kidnapped Alfred.

- Alfred!

Jack Union ran to Alfred and gently cradled his face in his hands, "You git, what did you to get yourself in this situation?" He asked.

Alfred sort of coughed and sort of chuckled, "How could you be angry at me right now?" He asked.

"Don't smile right now. You look terrible." He felt tears drip down his cheek under his mask.

"Why are you dressed like that?" He asked.

"Because you needed a bloody hero, you wanker." He laid a gentle kiss on Alfred's lips. They were chapped and tasted like blood. "I did it for you, you idiot."

"Porca puttana! ((Holy shit!))" The two men turned to see a small man with a feminine build wearing bright red shortshorts, a tight, red shirt and a little green cap that looked something remenicent of leaves. "Ohmyfuckinggod!"

A very gay looking matador appeared in the doorway and froze. "Waitaminute... Jack Union? What the hell, man, I thought you were done being—Ugh whatever whatever I'm not here to bother you about that. Did you kill this guy? Is he the hitman?"

"Who the hell are you?" Jack Union said, standing.

"My Little Tomato, I think the help has already, uh, happened." Antonio turned to the red-clad Italian who was fuming. "We really should be on our way, then." He turned and slipped out of the building again. Lovino, extremely pissed off followed after.


I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS CHAPTER.

I never meant for any chapter to be serious, but the thought of Toris pulling a Neville Longbottom and slaying the serpent that is Ivan Braginski...

AND IT'S ALSO HEARTS'S FAULT! SHE TOLD ME TO!

I have to go now. Sleep and all that.

The next chapter is the conclusion BUT NOT THE END.

Keep in mind:

Part1&2 in the point of view of Feliks

Part 1&2 in the point of view of Ludwig