Bleh, I'm so sorry this took so long~ I hope this made up for it.
We have reached the climax! What will happen to our little Matthew now that he has a clue? Read and find out is all I can say!
Also, if I begin to post random songs like down there vvvv then it's because it is what I listened to when writing and maybe it'll help with emoti-blahh blah blaaahhhh
Obviously I don't own Hetalia, if I did... *shifty eyes*
Review, favorite and all that good stuff.
Jouir!
Chapter 7
Same Day
The Plague - Prince Of Egypt (Multilanguage)
Matthew Williams parked right outside the house and jumped out, tripping over himself but quickly re-stabled. Sprinting to the front door, he ran into it but slid down to the ground to catch his breath. His heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to explode. Ludwig was lying, I just know it… What he said wasn't true, but he isn't one to lie! What do I do?
He choked on a sob and covered his mouth, closing his eyes he took three deep breaths. The door suddenly opened and he fell through since he was leaning against it. Right before he fell to the ground, he got an armful of American.
"Mattie? Mattie, you okay?" Alfred held his twin brother in the doorway and tried to get his attention, but it seemed the Canadian was too far gone in thought that he didn't even see his brother right in front of him. "Mattie!"
Alfred shook Matthew's shoulders, slapping his cheek lightly. The blond jumped and grabbed onto the American's hand before it slapped him again. He had to tell Alfred! That's it, he will tell his brother.
Matthew got up and, still holding his twin's hand, he pulled him over to the car and motioning for him to get inside. The Canadian got in the driver's seat and pulled out, driving far away.
…..
The car sat in the middle of an empty parking lot, drops of rain hit against the glass of the windshield but it didn't drown out the sound of Matthew's voice as he told Alfred what Ludwig had told him.
It was getting late, the moon already in the sky and Matthew was afraid. He had left Arthur in the house with Ivan and Gilbert! But, maybe Ivan is innocent and Ludwig just has a grudge against him?
Ludwig just isn't one to lie, he wouldn't spread a rumor. Especially when his brother was involved. He remembered going to a funeral, he never remembered who it was that was in the casket.
The name on the head stone was fuzzy…
Matthew finished with what he was saying and Alfred just stared at him. The silence became to thick so the Canadian finally said;
"What do I do…?"
Alfred rubbed his temples and looked outside towards the downpour. It was now coming down so hard you could barely see a few feet away.
"I don't know, Mattie. But I always knew something was wrong with that commie bastard! And there's a fucking ghost in the house? JUST GREAT!" Alfred winced from the sound of his own voice but turned back to his brother, "We should call the police, they'll know what to do!"
"But we have no proof. For all we know, Gilbert could have been kidnapped. We don't know if it's Ivan." Matthew wanted to believe it was someone else but something in the back of his mind was nagging at him…
"Oh, c'mon! Then what now?"
"We should go back…"
Alfred said nothing for once and closed his eyes, leaning back into the passenger seat.
About an hour later of nothing but silence between the brothers's, the car pulled up to the house and Alfred got out, Matthew following. The American went to the porch and watched as his brother went over to the shed right next to the house and went inside.
Alfred waited and raised an eyebrow when Matthew appeared with a shovel. He walked away and towards the house when Alfred called out to him, "Where ya' goin'?"
"I have something I need to do."
Alfred nodded and said "Good luck," walking into the house.. He looked back to the car as it began to pull away from the house. "Just don't get hurt."
Once Matthew was far enough away from the house he pressed the gas pedal further and sped down the road. He didn't want to be out all night and he needed to know for sure!
He has only been there once in his life, and not even recently. The only thought racing through his head is that his brother will be okay. That nothing will harm them.
It was closing on midnight when he stopped the car and jumped out into the rain. Immediately, his hair was soaked but he didn't care. Pulling out the shovel and hanging it over his shoulder, he ran up to the gate and pushed it open, looking at all the blocks of stone that jutted from the ground.
He let his legs carry him instead of thinking where he was going; he passed by many graves, careful to step around them and avoid the ground the dead were buried under. He stopped before a small grave,
Gilbert Beilschmidt
He touched the stone and tried to remember but he couldn't. It hurt to think about too much so he shook his head, mumbling, "I'm sorry, Gilbert," before he lifted the shovel and hit it to the ground.
He dug and moved the dirt to the side. The rain was making it a little hard to get through but he kept pushing through until the shovel hit something hard.
Throwing the shovel up, he moved the mud with his hands and stared at the dark wooded coffin.
This is bad, why am I doing this?
The thought didn't stop him, he used all his strength to open the lid and braced himself to find a bod-
Pictures?
The coffin was filled with hundreds of pictures, filled almost to the brim with a single dead rose lying on top. Picking up a picture, trying to shield it from the rain so he could see…
There, Gilbert stood next to his brother wearing a bright red hoodie, a yellow chick on the front. He wore white skinny jeans and a bright smile, eyes squinting as a hand was held up behind Ludwig's head, making bunny ears. The blond looked different. Younger, yes, but he didn't look so stiff. He seemed to enjoy being there and a small smile was splayed on his lips.
It was one of the only times Matthew had seen the German smile…
Another picture caught his attention because it held someone that looked familiar. Setting the picture of the brother's back into the coffin softly, he picked up the only one and gasped.
Gilbert was smiling but his eyes looked sad as he sat next to… Ivan. The Russian was handing a sunflower to the Prussian; a creepy smile contorted his features that never met his eyes.
Looking back down at the pictures, so many held both Gilbert and Ivan. He dug through them, panicking, all reasoning forgotten that he was defiling the grave.
Most held the brother's, but so many held Ivan… Ivan, Ivan, Ivan, Ivan!
He grabbed a hold of a picture, expecting to find none other than Ivan when he saw… Himself…
In the picture, Matthew was on Gilbert's shoulders. Looking no older than 6, he had his face stuffed into the white hair with a blush on his cheeks. Gilbert was smiling, a true smile that never showed in the pictures with Ivan.
A drop of water landed on the picture and Matthew realized it wasn't from the rain so he went to wipe the tears that were now flowing down his cheeks.
I had this picture! But… But what happened to it?
The first thing that came to mind was a fire…
"Are you sure you want to do this, Mattie?" Alfred asked, turning to his brother who hasn't spoken a word since that day…
The Canadian nodded, his eyes concentrated on the fire before him. It was small, in the back yard of their father's house. He was close enough that he could feel the warmth coming from it, it reached for him and he was so tempted…
No, no he couldn't.
The flames sizzled and snapped when a picture was thrown inside,
A picture of Gilbert and himself,
Then another, and another… Every picture Matthew owned of the Prussian was now burning in the fire. The one picture, when he was on the shoulders of Gilbert at 6 years old stood out. He stared at it, the edges curled and turned black.
Slowly, the burns took over, taking more of the picture until all that remained was the two faces. Gilbert… Gilbert…
My Gilbert…
Matthew spoke the most words he had in an entire year, ever since Gilbert went missing…
"Now I can forget…"
Matthew shook his head, dropping the picture into the coffin. He slammed it shut and hopped out, shoveling the dirt back into the grave. He felt numb, he remembered that day. The day he wanted to forget, the day he did forget…
He forgot all that he loved!
How could he do that!
He had betrayed Gilbert, given up!
He didn't remember getting in the car or when he had started driving. The car seat was becoming damp from his soaked clothes and his eyes stayed on the road. He was surprised when he didn't get into an accident for all he was paying attention.
He looked at the radio in the car when he pulled up to the house; it was 2:38 AM.
Even though it was this late, every light in the house was on. But he saw no one walking or any shadows. The other two cars were still there so it means everyone is home.
Shutting the car off, he walked up the steps of the porch after locking the car doors and put a key into the door.
It wasn't locked… So Matthew opened it slowly and peeked inside. The only sound was the creak of the door and the TV that blared on static noise.
Something was wrong. Arthur would never allow Alfred to leave the TV on, no matter what. The Canadian looked around and saw a bloody hand print on the wall; it was smeared as if the person was pulled away from it.
He walked up to it and noticed blood on the ground and the streak of blood continued down the wall, up the stairs.
He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach; Matthew was very worried but couldn't bring himself to walk any faster.
"Alfred?" he called when he reached the stop of the stairs and every light in the house turned off. He flinched when the darkness surrounded him.
He stood still, waiting for his eyes to get used to the darkness before he started walking forward again. He saw a limb on the ground, reaching out from behind a door. The hand was covered in blood and he was about ready to go see who was lying on the floor when he was pushed into the wall.
A large butcher knife thumbed into the wood right next to his face, cutting off a few strands of hair.
Matthew gasped before looking up into light violet eyes.
"I've got you now… My sunflower…"