Hello to you, my loves! For those who read my DRRR! stories, sorry if you were worried. You know how it gets sometimes. Life gets overwhelming, and the only solution is to disappear. But writing always makes me feel better, so I think it'll be good for me! I'm not going to bore you with my issues, so don't ask what was wrong. Let's just move forward, and get on with this dark ass story. Now, thank you for your patience! I know it's been awhile! It must have been dreadful for those of you waiting, since I ended it so long ago! And you all want the two of them to get together… Hehehehe. Let's see what I can do. *waves wand* Oh, wait. I have to give you love first! Quiet. Crash, haha, what a theory! People impersonate serial killers all the time. It makes you wonder who would want the credit for such a thing, but you know…whatever… HetaliaHour, awww, I love you! I try to update when I can! BrokenHeartedWarrior, I love Jack the Ripper! Most infamous serial killer in the world, you know. Been imitated many times. Rai Rai Blue, thank you very much for your concern. I'm very glad you care for me. And Toki is my best friend in the universe! Sorry for the delay… Fynniona, I am a tease! I get told so often, but it's all good. I enjoy possessive Arthur too~! Singing Artist, awww, thank you so much! I try to keep it as constant as I can. Phoxies Fair, go to Hot Topic! That's where I got mine. I'M GLAD YOU LOVE IT! Now, I've rambled enough. Thank you all for reading, it means the world to me. On with the story!
The Package
(A Perfect Circle)
[Clever got me this far, then tricky got me in. Eye on what I'm after, I don't need another friend. Smile and drop the cliché, 'till you think I'm listening. I take just what I came for, then I'm out the door again.]
It was late.
But, honestly, what other time would he be able to do this?
Damn how tired he would be the next day. Damn how cranky, how worn, how…how…
His thoughts were scattered. They were getting worse. He was no fool. Graduating top of his class, he knew what was happening to him.
He was losing his mind. Going crazy. It's not like it was a mystery. And yet…he didn't really care.
Being mentally unstable gives a man time to think, time to plan. He finally realized it wasn't always his fault, couldn't always be his fault. No, others were to blame as well.
Every man held a secret, and every woman was a whore.
That's it, black and white, no gray.
He leaned against the wall of a dark building, barely able to make out what he was leaning against.
A lodging house. He uncovered his eyes, not sure when he covered them to begin with. His head hurt, the voices were loud, and to top it all off, he was just told someone was taking credit for his art.
He sighed loudly, trying to decide what to do. Then, whatever the reason, whatever her motives, a woman approached him from under the awning of the inn.
"Are you okay, dear?" she asked, her voice laced with an unknown accent.
He studied her for a moment. She was taller than the others, though still shorter than him. Her eyes were gray, and her hair was dark and curly. She looked up at him with interest, and seemed genuinely concerned to know what was bothering him.
What if she was an innocent?
Well, one way to find out.
"I'm fine. Just…rather lonely," he said, examining her features.
Then, as he expected, her profession seemed to take over.
"Ah, well… I have a room here. I'll share it with you, for a small price," she purred, her ridiculous accent marring her words. He smiled at her pleasantly, motioning for her to lead the way.
As soon as she turned her back, he struck.
Using a handkerchief from his pocket, he wrapped it around her throat with one hand, his other hand moving to her mouth to cover her screams.
As she flailed about, he tugged her behind the building, careful to avoid the light from the windows inside.
He settled them in the street behind the lodging house, straddling her so he could watch the show.
Her face was turning blue, her eyes wide and bloodshot. She was kicking furiously at first, clawing at the ground as if it would save her. Then, her movements ceased, her eyes glazing over.
His face was the last thing she would ever see, but at least he gave her a smile for her troubles.
His scalpel went to work, more careful this time, more precise. As he sliced open her neck, he happened to glance down at her hand, which was clutching something.
A packet of Cachous. Pills used by smokers to sweeten their breath.
Well, at least she wasn't planning on having rancid breath during their time together. The mark of a true professional, after all.
He was nearly finished with her, nearly done…
"Arthur, I'm going out for a bit, don't wait up."
No.
"For God sakes, you git, you can't even sleep by yourself? You'll never amount to anything!"
Not true… Not true, he's a doctor…
"You're the reason your father left!"
No!
"You're a mistake! I never wanted you!"
NO!
Scowling furiously, be tried to drown the shrill voice. Tried, tried, tried. But to no avail. His free hand caressed her face above the slash in her neck. She actually might have been attractive, back in her day…
"MISTAKE!"
How dare that voice destroy his masterpiece again…how dare it?! Why was he forced to listen to this drabble always, even now, even as an adult…
How he longed for silence…
As a matter of fact, he could do her a courteous favor, in return for providing him with entertainment. Moving swiftly, he pushed the scalpel over her ear, removing it from her body. As he was turning her head to receive the other, he heard the unmistakable whinny of a horse in the distance.
Shit.
He ran as far from her as he dared, still carrying the ear in his hand as the blood trickled down his fingers.
The voice in his head grew louder and louder until it was deafening him.
"Arthur!"
"Arthur!"
"ARTHUR!"
"Yo! Arthur! You okay?"
The doctor jerked awake, finding his face stuck to a piece of parchment he had been pouring over. He turned toward the source of the voice, only to find Alfred's face close to his.
"Alfred? H-How long was I out for?" he asked the American, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Since I've been here. Michelle wanted to wake you, but I told her I'd help you finish up later, if you'd like."
Arthur nodded absently. It was no surprise to him he had fallen asleep at work. He hadn't gotten any sleep the night before.
Dreaming of the murders was nothing out of the ordinary for him. He had been dreaming about them ever since his first murder was committed. What was bothering him was…his mother's voice growing louder and louder in his head.
He sighed, trying to look back over the parchment.
"Do you need me to help?" Alfred asked brightly.
"…Why are you still here?"
"Oh, um… I finished the stomach painting and…I got here right about when Michelle was leaving, so I figured I'd wake you up as soon as I was done… Do you wanna see it?"
Arthur shook his head, wishing his temples would stop throbbing. It was dark outside, and the younger man had lit up the oil lamp, making the doctor wonder how much time had actually passed.
"Did you hear about the Ripper striking again last night? It looks like you Brits have quite the catastrophe on your hands!"
The doctor glared up at him, wondering why the hell the man was so loud. Alfred looked back at him, his expression morphing to one of awkwardness.
"Um… Do you…need me?"
Need him? What a ridiculous concept. Arthur Kirkland didn't need anything, nor did he need anyone.
"No. Leave."
He just wanted to finish his work, go home, and drown the voice in alcohol until it didn't bother him anymore.
Alfred flinched, taking a step back. He seemed to reconsider leaving, because he reached for another paper Arthur had under his elbow.
"I told you to leave, Alfred."
"No. You're not being yourself, and I don't want you to get behind in your work."
"It's none of your damn business!"
"You're a mistake, Arthur!"
"What's wrong with you?! You're never like this! Are you sick?" the sandy blond asked worriedly, placing his hand on the doctor's forehead. Arthur jerked back, standing abruptly from his chair.
"MISTAKE."
"Don't you ever touch me!" Arthur shouted, his hand making contact with something solid before he even understood what had happened.
Alfred stumbled backward, his hand covering his face. Arthur rushed forward, cornering him against the wall.
"All you do is talk, talk, talk! Do you have any idea how goddamn annoying you are?! Always here whether you're wanted or not, taking miles when I've offered an inch! You don't work here as a doctor, you're a bloody artist! If you're done with your pictures, get out!"
Alfred removed his hands from his eyes, his glasses crumbling to the floor. He looked up sadly at the furious doctor.
"I…just wanted to be where you are…"
Arthur grabbed his face, making the younger squeak in fear. As mad as he was, Arthur was a doctor, and he had to make sure no glass got in the American's eyes.
He looked at the shards sprinkled down Alfred's face. They…were glowing in the fading light from the oil lamp. Almost…making it look like tears.
Tears of someone getting punished for something they didn't understand.
Green eyes scanned over the round face, until they made contact with blue orbs looking uncertainly at him, filled with fear, but…something else as well. Something much more sinister.
Shakily, Arthur leaned forward, brushing their lips together just barely, not certain what he wanted. Alfred gasped, trembling slightly, his hands gripping the wall behind him as his eyes closed.
"Arthur…" he whispered, his lips quivering as more shards fell down.
The doctor growled in frustration, not liking the feeling of not being in control. Their lips touched again, awkwardly, but more firmly. Alfred whimpered quietly, his hands moving to grip the older man's shoulders.
"Shit…" Arthur sighed, his nails digging into the American's hips enough to break the skin as their lips finally met fully.
Their mouths moved together, both of them breathing harshly. Alfred gripped him tightly, blood running down his hips and onto his thighs from Arthur's nails.
The older man's teeth clamped down on the sandy blond's bottom lip, ceasing the kiss as more blood was drawn.
"Ahh…" the American whined as the iron taste drenched his tongue. Arthur hissed, shoving him back again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he moved toward the door.
Alfred's knees buckled, and he sank to the floor as he watched the doctor leave.
Both had much to think about, but neither could think clearly- There was no blood going to their brains.
[Eye on what I'm after, I don't need another friend. Nod and watch your lips move, if you need me to pretend. Because clever got me this far, then tricky got me in. I'll take just what I came for, then I'm out the door again. Lie to get what I came for. Lie to get what I need now. Lie to get what I'm craving. Lie, and smile to get what's mine. Give this to me!]
Sachi: Ah… I'm exhausted. This chapter took much longer than anticipated because my parents are still here, and they're very curious about what I'm writing… DX