England watched in horror as Oliver waltzed into the room, pulling a rope that was attached around a bloody Matthieu's neck.
"It seems my family has come to develop feelings for you, Arthur." He dropped the rope and Matthieu fell against the door frame. Oliver watched with amusement. "It hurts my feelings that they would rather help you than me. But, I have ways to deal with naughty children."
As his terror mounted, England looked to Matthieu, who only grinned painfully and shook his head. Assuming that meant his wounds would heal, England turned his attention back to Oliver, whose face was positively horrifying. More so than he had already seen it.
"I think it's time that you and I get down to business, hm? You are going to tell me exactly what I want to hear." Oliver pulled his knife out, as well as a new rope. "Do I make myself perfectly clear, Arthur?"
"I'm afraid not, Oliver." England was backed against the book case, slowly moving towards the fireplace a few feet behind him. "Unlike you, I actually care about what happens to my family, as you call them, although I'm not entirely sure that is an appropriate use of the word." He watched over his alter-nation's shoulder, and saw Matthieu was regaining his composure, wiping the blood from his face and standing up straighter. England looked Oliver in the face again.
"What, you think I don't care about them? I want to give them your entire world-"
"No, you want the world. You're just using them." England reached behind him, his fingers wrapping around the stoker. He glanced up and saw Matthieu start to stumble in their direction.
Oliver shrugged, then said with an embarrassed grin. "Maybe I am. But what does it matter? I'm evil. It's what I do, remember?" With a sudden movement he slashed the knife over England's arm, but narrowly missed, as the other man had swung the iron rod threw the air, and landed a shallow blow on Oliver's tan pants. Red seeped into them.
But instead of cries of pain, Oliver started to laugh, the same menacing laugh as before.
Matthieu just paused in shock.
"So that's what that feels like." Oliver took another moment to look at his leg, then tore the stoker from it.
England, who still had his hands on it, hung on, and yanked it from Oliver's grip.
Oliver put his bloody fingers on the wall beside him, and traced a smile onto the bindings of the books. "Looks like things are going to get interesting."
I like to think Oliver is one to enjoy the pain. I had left who would be on the receiving end of the whip up to the imagination, but perhaps it's time to dispel alternate theories...
Sorry I updated so late. BUT I DID IT. Lol Thanks for all the views guys!