Chapter Five

French teen from Florida 'vanishes from thin air'

Dozens of policemen and neighbors are baffled by the sudden disappearance of Francis Bonnefoy in Jacksonville, Florida who was declared missing on XXX the XXXth.

He was last seen at school by friend's Arthur Kirkland and Alfred Jones who say that he was heading home.

No other sightings have been reported since.

"I can't believe it." Arthur said, trying to hold back tears. "Where could he have gone? It doesn't make any sense."

"He was always such a funny and nice guy." Alfred, who recently moved in, said. "He helped me feel welcome. I can only hope he's found as soon as possible. We all want him back."

Francis's mother, Aimée Bonnefoy, fears the worst as time goes on and not a single clue where her son could be found is brought up.

It's difficult for Ms. Bonnefoy to discuss the disappearance of her son without bursting into tears.

"My boy would never run away," she firmly told the police. "Never. Something must have happened to him."

Francis Bonnefoy has shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, and is 175 cm tall. He was reported to be wearing a green polo shirt and blue jeans the day he was last seen.

Notify the police immediately if you see any strange activity.

The school was a mess, if you were curious.

Everyone, even people who didn't know him, were crying and apologizing to me and the remaining two Fakes. Some even used the incident as an excuse to stay home from school. One kid, I've heard, moved away. It's annoying, but unbearably amusing at the same time.

Counselors kept approaching me and patting my back, telling me to stay strong. "Don't fear the worst." "You don't have to go to school if you don't want too." "He's just disappeared. We don't know if he's dead."

Heh.

Although I couldn't be more pleased, Fake Arthur is exactly the opposite. He's been shaken up by the whole ordeal, which would make sense, considering I didn't let him in on what happened to his 'friend'. He cries like a baby whenever anyone mentions that Francis could be dead, so it wasn't hard for me to fool anyone when it came to my innocence.

More importantly, however, was the affect his death had on Alfred and I.

It was amazing.

But at the same time, it wasn't.

Alfred seemed to have become a bit clingier ever since Francis was reported missing, and I've been greedily soaking up his attention. He lights up whenever I approach him and I'm the first person he talks to out of a group of people. We've also exchanged numbers and text each other occasionally. It was hard to cover up the fact that I already registered him in my phone, but that's all in the past. The important thing is that now we can talk outside of school! It's heaven.

His brother, Matthew, apparently ended up extending his stay in Canada as well. I happened to overhear – definitely not eavesdrop on - a conversation between the two of them discussing this. The point is that I no longer have to spend time worrying about his brother stealing away my Alfred time.

Yes, it was all going the way I wanted. It wouldn't be long until Alfred realized his affection for me.

But that wasn't going to last.

I suppose I had it coming. Alfred is handsome, kind, smart - of course somebody else would be attracted to him! That's simply natural, so I don't have any problem with that. Go ahead and have a crush on Alfred. I wouldn't care. You'd have to be mad to not be attracted to him in the slightest.

You'd also have to be mad, however, if you decide that it's a good idea to get in our way.

If you liked Alfred, you had to be aware that I loved him even more than you could ever know. There wouldn't be a chance in hell for you. Therefore, you shouldn't approach him with filthy intentions unless you knew the consequences of your actions.

I figured even Alfred recognized that I loved him, even if he was unsure of how he himself felt. I made it so blatantly obvious. I met up with him everyday, I praised everything he did, I stood by his side, I would make a point of being near him and smiling in his direction - It was so clear!

So why? Why would he do something like this to me?

Why would he ever give his affection to someone else?

Just thinking about it makes me sick. I threw up at home on the day I heard the news. It was so disgusting. I could barely stomach imagining it: Alfred holding hands with her, talking to her, smiling at her - I would die for that smile, and yet he wastes it on her.

She probably doesn't even know anything about him. I'm with Alfred whenever I can be and I've never heard her name or seen her face. She must have only approached him when I wasn't around to protect him from her. Like Francis, she must have been very much aware of my stronger feelings.

Alfred has never told me about her either, which doesn't make any sense. We tell each other everything. Why would he keep this girl a secret from me?

Rather, it does make sense!

She's forcing him to be with her.

My heart goes out to Alfred countless times. Why does everyone have to ruin his process? Why are they so keen on ruining our relationship? I won't allow it. He probably doesn't even like her in the slightest. She must have done something - blackmail, perhaps - to force him into it. I've seen countless movies with that kind of scenario - why wouldn't it happen in real life?

Poor Alfred. Poor dear.

She has a name, by the way. I can't bring myself to say it aloud quite yet. It fills me with an inexpiable rage.

Emmeline.

Everyone calls her Emma.

She's Belgian, speaks Dutch, and has curly blond hair and green eyes.

I didn't bother to learn her last name. In fact, the information given is mainly just her appearance.

He introduced her to me yesterday to tell me that they started going out recently. Recently.

"I wanted to introduce her to my best friend!" If this was a different situation, I would've been extremely pleased that Alfred thought of me so fondly.

Fake Arthur didn't seem to mind, which was the only reason why I didn't wring her neck then and there.

What sickened me the most was the fact that she was so happy to see me. She didn't show the slightest bit of annoyance or opposition to our meeting. Her acting was aggravatingly good.

Not that it mattered. Francis was good at acting too.

And so am I.

"It's so nice to meet you. Alfred has told me so much about you!" Fake Arthur gushed. We shook hands, much to my displeasure, and Alfred seemed to frown for a second. He must be worried that she'll do to me what she did to him to get me to back off. Don't worry, I had thought, smiling secretively at him. I won't give her the upper hand. I'll kill her before that could happen.

Ugh. I want to cut off my hands whenever I think about it.

I couldn't explain this immense hatred I have for her. Even right now, I feel it slowly building up inside of me. I can barely think straight. If I don't do anything to release my anger or find a way to calm me down now, I might hurt somebody.

These sudden, violent thoughts have been plaguing my mind ever since I killed Francis. Perhaps I'll eventually get used to them, just like I had to get used to Fake Arthur.

But for now, it's alright. Because I know exactly what to do when I feel this way.

I walked up the first flight of stairs to my room. I haven't seen my parent's room since I locked them in the basement. I get the feeling that it's extremely dusty in there. I'll clean it when I find the time to.

...Or maybe not. Whenever I have Fake Arthur think about our parents, it makes him uncomfortable. Almost like the squeezing, unpleasant sensation you get when you eat something your stomach didn't agree with. Does he ever wonder what happened to them? Or does he know?

After all, they aren't his parents. Not really.

I created him, after all. I'm the reason why he's here.

With a dismissive sigh, I open the door to my room and instantly feel relaxed.

Whenever I see Alfred, all of my troubles fade away and I feel an intense surge of pleasure. Not at all sexual, though - more like a burst of happiness. Like the feeling I used to get when I was younger on the day before Christmas.

But he's not here, you say? You're right. He's not here... physically.

I have pictures of him in my bedroom. A whole bunch of them, actually. I've never stopped taking pictures of Alfred secretly during photography. A while back, I realized that ever since I met my true love, sleeping alone seemed a bit scary and lonely. So, I decided to tape the pictures on my wall so I could look at Alfred before bed. It's the only way I can fall asleep peacefully.

I took of my backpack and fished around for today's pictures, getting the tape off of my dresser. With a frown, I realized that I had already filled up every space on the surrounding walls: The right wall next to my bed, the back wall behind my dresser, and the left wall behind my computer desk. Even the door was covered. Would I have to tape them on the ceiling now?

I couldn't bring myself to throw any of them away, so the ceiling it is.

Grabbing my computer chair, I pulled it to the center of the room and put a foot on it to test it. Stable enough. I stood on it carefully, and luckily I could reach the fairly low ceiling with little effort. After a few minutes, the once bare ceiling was covered with pictures of Alfred with plenty of space for more.

I smiled, feeling accomplished.

It's not enough, though. Just pictures will never be enough.

I don't have Alfred's sweatshirt anymore either. His smell has been replaced with mine since I slept with it so often. I should've used it sparingly. However, despite it not providing as much comfort as it used to, I refuse to wash it. Just knowing that his skin had been against it at some point makes me happy. Washing it would be washing Alfred out.

I lie down on my bed after returning the computer chair to its rightful place and stare up at him, smiling contentedly.

I wish we could always be together. If we were always together, I would be able to defend him from the people who try to split us apart. If he never told me about Emma, I fear that I wouldn't have ever found out unless I heard it from someone else. This is because we don't have all of our classes together. I'm clueless about what his family is like, too. I've only dared to visit his house a few more times, but it's becoming difficult. His mother added in blinds on the inside of the window so it's harder to peek in.

However, I did find out something that may come in handy: Mrs. Jones hides the spare house key under a certain rock. For decoration, she lined her front bushes with cute little pebbles. I have one myself. I mean, it's from Alfred's house - how could I not take it?

Anyways, under a particularly big one she hides a little locked box that needs a code. The code is 0704, the month and day of Alfred's birthday, July 4th. I saw it when Alfred typed the code in broad daylight when he left his original house key at home. I wrote it down in my Alfred journal so I wouldn't forget it.

Alfred isn't very good at covering up important things like that, or keeping secrets on that matter. It's cute to see him get all flustered, but it worries me that somebody else could easily spy on him. Spying is much different from the innocent observing that I do.

Speaking of somebody else, I had to think about what to do about Emma.

I originally wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible, but one thing has been holding me back: The fear that the minute I turn a bit hostile, she'll tell Alfred.

Even though Alfred doesn't actually like her, he'll have no choice but to play along and get angry with me. Just the thought of him being disappointed in me - even if it's just for show - gives me a headache and makes me feel sick.

I guess I'll have to find out more about her, won't I? I didn't want anything to do with her, but I have no choice. Fake Arthur already knew Francis fairly well, so finding where I would murder him was easy. A complete stranger was different. It's not like I could just invite her somewhere and go crazy.

...Huh.

Maybe I could.

Yes, there's an idea! I could make her come to me! Instead of following her somewhere and attacking her from behind like I did to Francis, I could ask her to meet me somewhere for something and attack her the minute she arrives. She wouldn't have a chance to say a thing.

But when? I've decided to keep my murder method the same, but I couldn't just kill her the next day. She would be skeptical. I would need a special place and time.

Before I could think too deeply about it, a loud buzz from my backpack stopped me immediately. I lunged for it, my mind racing excitedly with the thought of Alfred. Could it be? Could it be?

Yes!

I answered without a moment of hesitation, Fake Arthur taking control. "Hello?"

"Hey, Arthur!" Alfreds' voice sounds different over the phone, but Alfred was Alfred. I'd take anything that was his. "You sound funny! Like you just ran a mile or something. Are you okay?"

I was out of breath from psyching myself up. My mind raced frantically for an excuse, but as usual, Fake Arthur saved himself: "Sorry, I couldn't find my phone. What's up? You prefer texting over calling, right? Why didn't you text this time?" Not that I was against it. Alfreds' voice is much better than words on a screen.

Alfred laughed nervously, which was usually a good sign. He's embarrassed. But why? Was it because of something?

Someone?

My hopes shot to the roof. My heart pounded.

"That makes sense, I guess. Anyways, I have something kinda important to ask you that can't really be said over text. You can't laugh at me though, okay? Promise me you won't laugh!"

"I won't laugh. I promise. I would never laugh at you, Alfred."

I could see it now. Alfred and I finally get together. Strengthened by our newfound love, Emma has no choice but to give up, for blackmail means nothing to Alfred because he has me. We have each other. We –

"Really? Thanks, dude! Emma was thinking about going out on one of the days before Thanksgiving Break next week and I have no clue what to do or where to take her. Could you help me?"

Ah.

So my hopes were not to be answered. I'll admit, I feel extremely disappointed, but not because Alfred didn't say what I wished he would say. It's because I got excited over a desperate plea for help. Alfred is in dire need of my assistance and I have my head in the clouds. I'm such a horrible person.

I knew exactly what was going on.

Emma is forcing Alfred to do things for her, calling it a 'date' so nobody else who heard the conversation was suspicious. Alfred, overwhelmed with fear and worry, has called me and gave me the gist of what she was doing in hopes that I could stop her.

He must want to me to pick a time and location for the 'date' so I knew where it was located and when it would begin. Of course, he wouldn't tell Emma that I thought up the plan for him. That would ruin everything!

Could it be that he knew what I did to Francis and is indirectly asking me to hurry up and rid of Emma? If that's the case, then I shouldn't wait a moment longer!

"Of course I'll help you, Alfred. I appreciate knowing that you have no problem going to me for assistance."

I could almost hear him grin over the phone. "Thanks, Arthur! You're the best." My face grew almost unbearably hot and a pleasant feeling filled my entire body. I love it when Alfred compliments me.

"So, do you have any ideas? I was thinking someplace like Starbucks was too… I don't know, original." Very true. A place with too many people would be a bad idea, especially if I was to interfere. Emma could decide to make a scene and then I wouldn't be able to do anything. Alfred would have to continue to suffer even longer. I can't allow that!

"You're right. Starbucks is an awful idea." I said. "Wow, thanks." Alfred huffed, but I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was just teasing. How cute was that?

"I'm just being truthful! There are too many people; it wouldn't work out!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Alfred said grudgingly. I wonder what he sounded so displeased about. Did I upset him in some way? Before I could ask, his tone changed instantly. "Well, if you're that against it then what do you think, huh?" It was almost as if he was challenging me! Was he turning this into some kind of game?

I thought about this for a while. I had to think of a place where nobody would witness or hear the murder. I didn't want Alfred to see it either. I wasn't entirely sure if Alfred knew that I was the one getting rid of his obstacles, so I didn't want to scare him. Not everybody has a tolerance to violent things like I do.

Suddenly, I recalled a place I used to call my 'hidden paradise'. I used to go there to escape all the noise my parents caused when I was I younger. It would be perfect!

"Well, I do know this one park that I used to visit in my spare time. There's a forest pathway that has just been redecorated with flowers and the like, but nobody really goes there, so it's nice and quiet. It's even nicer in the afternoon."

It's a stupid recommendation seeing as you can't see anything in the forest when it gets dark, especially since the days are slowly getting shorter. But that's exactly the point! If you can't see what's going on, then it's easy to get lost, right? Right. That's exactly what I'm planning to do.

Alfred and Emma will go into the forest, me following closely behind. Somehow, I'll separate the two and then get rid of Emma while Alfred searches for her. Then, I'll come and rescue him so he doesn't find her or get lost. Yes, it's all coming together now! I wish Alfred would praise me for my good work.

"That… sounds really great." The way he sounded a bit disappointed that my plan was better was surprisingly cute. Actually, it wasn't a surprise. Everything Alfred did was cute. "We could go there after eating or something. Yeah! I could see that. Except, I have to ask you a big favor: Could you come with us? Like, in secret. Before you say anything, I swear we won't do anything gross. We haven't even kissed yet, and I don't plan on doing it on the first date either. It's just, I don't know. I guess it would make me feel better about the whole thing."

I exhaled in relief upon the kissing being mentioned and Alfred laughed when he heard it. I was hoping that she hadn't gone that far yet. But who's to say that she won't try during the 'date'? Just another reason why I should hurry up and get rid of her already.

Anyways, following them had been my idea to begin with, so he being in on it was even better for me. It would prevent me from looking suspicious when I rescued him. "Sure, as long as you keep your word and don't do anything. Don't even hold hands." I teased. Alfred laughed harder. "Really? Not even holding hands? You must be seriously against PDA."

Well, I was semi-serious. I really didn't want to see them holding hands. In fact, just thinking about it pained me. But I had to think logically. Emma would obviously want to hold hands and there was nothing I could do to prevent her from doing so.

Only that day, though. I'll let her have her fun for that one day.

Her sick joy will be short lived.

We discussed the time and meeting location for a bit longer. I was to meet up with him before Emma arrived and then find somewhere to hide until she came. We then talked about other things until he told me he had to go to football practice. I didn't want to stop talking, but that couldn't be helped.

I spent the remaining few hours before bed planning out what I was going to do and packing ahead of time. I wasn't planning on taking this mission lightly. I needed binoculars, my knife, a garbage bag…

Thinking back, I decided to bring gloves and an extra shirt. Last time, the rain had washed away most of the blood on my clothes before it could stain, but I couldn't predict the weather. I would pack the shirt just in case I got messy. Alfred wouldn't notice that I changed since I would be wearing a coat over my shirt, so there was nothing to worry about.

Gloves, because I realized I made a flaw in Francis's murder. I should've worn gloves when I was touching the garbage bag. Now, I know what you're thinking: Why should you wear gloves if the bag is going to touch a thousand other things? It's always better to be safe. No assumptions allowed. I can't afford being caught. Being caught is the worst possible thing that could happen.

I do my nightly routine that's been drilled into my head by my parents as well: Check to make sure all of the doors in the house are locked and that all the lights are off. All lights except for the small one in my room. I can't see Alfreds face if it's too dark.

I lie on my side and turn my body to the right so I can look at him. In this picture, he's laughing. I'm not sure who it was with. I cut them out. Just like how I cut Francis out and how I'll cut Emma out.

Alfred is so beautiful.

I smile.

Goodnight, Alfred.

A/N: Eurgh. This chapter was kind of a drag, wasn't it? I promise that there will be a whole lot more dialogue from Alfred and the 'Fakes' here on out.

Yes, Emma is Belgium. I feel bad for what I'm doing to her. She's my favorite Hetalia girl, which is why I put her in the story. America and Belgium are both kind of hyped up cheery characters, so they're kinda cute! I almost did Vietnam, but I didn't know much about her personality. After all, Emma has some dialogue in the next chapter.

I'm so pumped for the next two chapters! The story is finally going to get somewhere! At least, in my opinion.

Also, should there be less of Arthur's thoughts and more talking, or do you not mind? Tell me!

The requested Alfred P.O.V chapter will be chapter seven. Yay! Are you excited? No? Okay.

...No, I'm not going to talk about how late this is. Happy New Year and Merry Christmas. This is your late present. Surprise! Ha ha ha…

Author out!