Hey there readers! Sorry this chapter is late. DX (Please forgive meeee!)


"Now do you believe there's a curse?" Matthew interrogated his brother.

Alfred sat on his brother's bed as the younger sibling paced the room in an uneasy manner.

Although Alfred would never admit, he had become extremely anxious after Lars' death. The poor American was terrified to be left alone. He clung to Arthur's side almost as much as Peter did. Alfred knew he was being ridiculous but he was quite shaken by the fact that someone tried to kill him. Twice!

"This has nothing to do with a curse Matthew." Alfred said as firmly as he could. He leaned back into the soft pillows and crossed his arms as he looked up at the ceiling. "I'll admit some terrible things have happened since we got here, but they were all done by some unknown person. A curse didn't put hemlock in my food. A curse didn't stuff Stinging Nettle into my horse's saddle."

"Someone associated with the curse could have done that though." Matthew pointed out.

"It wasn't Arthur, if that's what you're getting at." Alfred said hotly. He knew Arthur would never try to harm him.

"I'm not talking about Arthur." Matthew said exasperatedly. He was still pacing the room. "I'm talking about Peter."

"What?!" Alfred sat up quickly to give his brother a bewildered look. "Peter is just a little kid. There is no way he would do those things."

Matthew stopped his pacing to return Alfred's bewildered look.

"Alfred, Peter is not a little kid." Matthew replied curtly. "The boy is at least 15."

"How could he possibly be 15?" Alfred questioned irritably. "He looks so young, and he's always wearing those captain's play clothes."

"You really don't pay attention to anything that goes on here do you?" Matthew narrowed his eyes at his brother. "I bet you haven't even noticed that no matter how many candles are lit, no light can ever reach the walls of this accursed place."

Alfred pouted angrily. Of course he noticed the odd thing about the lights, but that didn't really have anything to do with what they were talking about at the moment.

"You still haven't explained to me why you think Peter is 15." Alfred said angrily.

"Isn't it obvious?" Matthew eyed his brother wearily. "Arthur told us how he likes to act older than he really is and that he is a really good kid. But that was his memory of Peter from 8 years ago! The way Arthur spoke of him made Peter sound at least 7 years old when he left him. When you put in account for the 8 years Arthur's been away, traveling and fighting in the war, that makes Peter 15."

Alfred shook his head still not accepting that Peter was older than he looked. He opened his mouth to argue but Matthew cut him off again.

"And you must have noticed how Arthur baby's him. He treats Peter like a child and only gets him those ridiculous play clothes to wear, but Peter is always trying to correct his cousin by reminding him that he is not a kid."

"Ok…" Alfred decided to go along with this for a moment. "Let's say Peter really is 15. If he was, then what does that have to do with anything? Why would he want to kill me?"

"Because!" Matthew said exasperatedly. He looked at Alfred like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's in love with Arthur and wants him for himself."

"You're nuts!" Alfred shook his head at his brother. Alfred thought this idea of Peter loving Arthur was a ridiculous thought. "Peter is way too young to be in love; even if he is 15."

"Need I remind you that you were only 15 when you fell in love with Arthur?" Matthew crossed his arms determinedly. Alfred pursed his lips in irritation at his brother.

"Listen…" Matthew continued. "You don't have to take my word for any of this. Go ask Peter himself about his age. Heck! Go ahead and spy on the guy if you like. You'll see that he isn't really the age you think he is and you'll realize how obviously infatuated the boy is with his cousin."

Alfred stood up feeling rather creeped out from all this talk. "I'm going out for a walk." He said ignoring his brother's startled look and quickly headed out the door.

As Alfred walked down the darkened hallway and couldn't help but feel hopelessly confused. He now knew that he could no longer deny that there was something strange with the house and it's darkened rooms. No longer could he deny that there were things that Arthur wasn't telling him. Although Alfred didn't know what these things could possibly be, but he needed to find them out.

The American was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice Peter running towards him. Peter was busy looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was behind him and didn't notice Alfred until it was too late.

Peter crashed into a pensive Alfred, causing them both to fall in a heap onto the floor.

"Oof!" Alfred felt the air leave his lungs momentarily when his back hit the hardwood floor beneath him. It didn't help that Peter had ran rather harshly into his stomach before the fall.

"Sorry, Alfred!" The boy apologized (slightly out of breath) as he quickly removed himself from atop the American. "I didn't see ya there."

Alfred coughed as he sat upright, trying to regain his breath.

"I-it's ok." Alfred replied once he was able to. The American ran his fingers through his hair and winced when he felt a bruise forming.

Alfred eyed the boy carefully as he stood up and dusted off his pants. Looking now, Alfred noticed some things e didn't notice before. Although Peter was childish, his features did show that he was older than the American ha originally thought. There wasn't much baby fat on the boys cheeks and his jawline was slightly more defined than a child's would be.

Alfred shook his head to stop thinking about Peter's age and tried addressing the ki-… the teen again.

"So Peter…" Alfred started, immediately grabbing the young teen's attention. "Why were you running so fast?"

Peter eyed Alfred for a moment. The young teen looked like he was taken off guard by Alfred's question, but he soon smiled broadly at the American. (Alfred had only seen him smile that way towards Arthur.)

"I was running away from Michelle." He explained and offered a hand to assist Alfred up. Alfred let Peter help him while the teen continued to talk. "She got mad at me 'cause I was playing with the windows in the green house."

"Green house?" Alfred questioned with a raised brow. "I didn't see a green house outside."

"That's 'cause it's built into the Manor." Peter said with a shrug. "It's located in the far left wing of the house. I don't think you've seen that side of the house yet."

"Oh." Alfred said simply. The American hadn't taken much interest in exploring the house since the incidents were what had consumed most of his thoughts. "Why was she mad at you for playing with the windows?"

"She says they're super fragile." Peter explained with a pout. He looked down bashfully before adding, "All I was doing was using the lever to open the overhead windows. I like letting the fresh air into the room when it's not raining."

Alfred smiled softly at the teen. The young boy sounded so innocent and sweet! Alfred mentally chastised himself for thinking Peter had anything to do with the killings.

"She's just looking out for you." Alfred chuckled and pat Peter's head. "Michelle doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Michelle's a bitch." Peter stated harshly.

"Peter!" Alfred exclaimed with wide eyes. He wasn't expecting any sort f language like that to come from the young man. "Peter, you shouldn't use language like that." Alfred scolded nervously.

"Why not?!" Peter snapped. "It's not like I'm a child. Plus, I'm always tired of the way she treats me."

"That still doesn't excuse you from using language like that." Alfred insisted. He looked at the boy in disbelief of what he was hearing… maybe the boy wasn't so innocent after all.

"Whatever." Peter rolled his eyes. He was obviously upset but didn't let it bother him for long. For a moment later, Peter's eyes shine mischievously as he looked at Alfred. "Hey Al, since Arthur is busy, do you wanna hang out with me in my room?"

Alfred took a step back in surprise. Being invited to Peter's room was very unexpected and something the American did not want to do. After all, Alfred didn't know if he could trust this teen or not! But then again… maybe spending time with Peter would give Alfred more information about whatever secrets Arthur may be hiding.

"Sure!" Alfred answered with a strained smile. "I'd love to spend some time with you."

"Great!" Peter exclaimed happily and took hold of Alfred's hand.

The American regretted his decision immediately. If Peter really was trying to kill him, then Alfred was about to give the teen a great opportunity to do so. They would be all alone and no one would be there to witness that Peter is the killer!

Alfred grew increasingly more nervous as they walked on down the darkened hallway. He spared Peter a sideways glance before looking ahead again and thought, 'He's short though… and really scrawny. If he does try anything then I can totally take him on! I could totally kick this kids a-'

"Here we are!"

Alfred jumped at the suddenness of Peter's loud voice in the empty hall. They had stopped in front of a mahogany door similar to Alfred and Matthew's. The only difference between this door and theirs was the fact that there was a lock on the outside of the door, rather than the inside.

"You're gonna love my room. It has tons of awesome stuff inside." Peter grinned widely as he opened the door for the American.

Alfred felt his knees shake as he remained rooted to the spot.

'Oh my god, I should have told him no.' Alfred thought frantically. 'Whats gonna be inside? A torture chamber?! Strange tools that he can use to kill and main me?!'

Peter looked impatiently at Alfred as the American let his imagination run wild. The young teen held Alfred's hand even tighter and pulled the man inside, ignoring the startled yelp he received when he did so.

Alfred clamped his eyes shut, feeling terrified to find out what he had just stepped into. He knew it was ridiculous to do so but he couldn't help it! He had already let his imagination get the best of him and he was too afraid to rationalize his thoughts.

It wasn't until Alfred heard the door slowly close behind them, that the American decided to suck it up and face whatever was before him. Alfred opened one eye very slowly to look at Peter's room.

The American was relieved to find that he was not in a torture chamber. There were no strange tools around to harm or kill him at all. As a matter of fact, it was just a normal child's room.

It was dark, just like the rest of the house, but there were toys everywhere. There were toy trains, blocks, books, and even a lonesome looking rocking horse sitting in the corner. The walls were blue and sailboats were painted all along the top boarders of the walls.

"Uh, nice room you got here Peter." Alfred turned to the young boy who would not take his eyes off the American.

"Thanks." Peter said I a strange happy voice that gave Alfred the chills. "Arthur was the one who suggested the sailboats when they made my room. He knows how much I love the ocean."

"That was kind of him." Alfred smiled softly, feeling a bit more calmer when his lover was mentioned.

"Yeah. Arthur has always been the one to understand me the most." Peter said as he sat on his bed.

Alfred smiled wider at that, until he remembered what Matthew said about Peter having a crush on Arthur. Feeling uncomfortable, Alfred decided that they should steer the conversation away from Arthur.

He looked around the room for a conversation started and immediately found one when he spotted…

"Dolls?" Alfred chuckled in disbelief when he noticed 2 dolls sitting on a nearby shelf. The American walked over to them and picked one up. "I thought dolls were a little girl's toy." Alfred laughed as he stared down at the doll's porcelain face. Blond curls framed the toy's beautiful face.

"Arthur had those made for me." Peter replied with furrowed brows. The teen looked upset that Alfred had called it a 'girl's toy'. "He had them specially made to look like my parents. It was the first thing he had given me after they passed away."

All signs of humor quickly disappeared from Alfred's face when he realized what the dolls were. He carefully placed the doll back next to the other. Their blank stares seemed to look right past him.

"Sorry. I didn't know." Alfred rubbed the back of his head nervously. The only thought coming to his mind at the moment was, 'I'm an asshole.'

"It's ok." Peter forgave Alfred right away. He swung his feet and stared at the ground. His expression was neutral. "I don't care for the dolls that much." Peter answered. "I never cared for my parents much either."

Now that had definitely taken Alfred off guard. What sort of orphaned child doesn't care for their deceased parents?!

"They were generous and doting parents…" Peter continued to speak. His voice grew strangely harsher and eerie. "But they were always too busy to pay attention to me. They loved each other too much and only had eyes for each other. I thought that starting that house fire would finally get me the attention I wanted from them, but even that didn't work!

I stood outside as the flames enveloped the house. My parents were inside together and began to dance around as the flames consumed them. Can you believe that?! They were dancing without me! My parents screamed as they continued to dance about inside of the great flames, right up until the house burned down… Even while dying, they were still having fun without me!"

Alfred backed up until his back was pressed against the wall. He looked at the boy in horror. The teen was obviously mad… bonkers… coo coo… Whatever you want to call it! The boy was crazy, and Alfred didn't want to spend another moment with the homicidal maniac.

Without bothering to make up an excuse, Alfred dashed out of the room. He didn't look over to see if the boy was chasing after him. Alfred just wanted to get as far away from Peter as possible and confront Arthur about what he had just heard. Did Arthur know that Peter had killed his own parents?

Alfred ran all the way down to the other side of the Manor. Calling out for Arthur as he did so. Up ahead, he saw a faint light coming from one of the rooms.

"Arthur!" Alfred called out again And ran up to the room where the door was left ajar. "Arthur! We have to talk about Peter right n-"

The rest of the sentence trailed off as Alfred saw what was inside the room.

It was the green house room that Peter had mentioned to him before. There was a crank lever in front of the door and it looked like it had been tampered with and broken. The lever kept rolling nonstop and the windows above him kept opening an slamming themselves shut.

Alfred looked back down into the room to find that Arthur wasn't inside, but someone else was.

Lying on the floor covered in blood and broken glass from the shattered overhead windows was Michelle. The woman stared off into space with glossed over eyes. She made no movements and Alfred couldn't see her breathing.

She was dead.


I want to make up an excuse as to why this is late by I have none! I was just too consumed with playing Pokemon X. DX I had to tell myself, "Melly, you're not allowed to have another battle until you finish this chapter!" So I hope you enjoyed this chapter n_n

Poor Michelle. Being stabbed to death by shattered glass is a terrible way to go.

Lemme know what you think of this chapter. Reviews inspire me to write n_n