Ah, so it seems we are at chapter three now. Even more shit goes down, but I think you guys get the memo by this point.

There's a bit of Nedice. But you don't need to squint. Because...it's actually quite prominent. We can see Emil/Erikur, getting a bit of a hint that Lars might like him a bit more than a 'good friend that I saved a few years ago from drowning with my sister.' But yeah. That happens.

(Also, see if you can spot the Fault In Our Stars reference.)

I don't know if some of you have read Mommy Dearest. I mean, it's not necessary, but I would like it if you did. It might help a bit, even though this story doesn't exactly have direct ties with it...it's set seven years in the future, I mean let's get real here, Mommy isn't even the antagonist any more.

Oh the good ol' days...when I killed Tino off. And everyone thought I killed Emil but then I started a sequel and now look where it's gone. Sigh...

Any way...Since I don't have too much to say this authors note...

Hope you like this chapter!

~Faygo

I look myself in the face
And whisper "I'm in the wrong place"
Is there more to lose than gain
If I go on my own again

The Outsider- Marina and the Diamonds

Chapter Three

"Have you seen him before?" Mathias asked, sliding his sketchbook over to Lukas from across the table.

Lukas held it closer to his face to get a better look at the drawing. The image was of a boy, with what he guessed was blood covering him almost completely. He had a large grin on his face, like he had lost it. Gone completely mad. He held a knife at his side, also coated in blood. The boy did seem familiar. But it just had to be a coincidence. He had probably seen him around town or something...right? Right. Just a coincidence.

"No." He said finally, setting the sketchbook back down on the table.

"Really?" Mathias asked, sounding surprised.

"Were you expecting me to? I haven't seen any boys coated in...blood lately." He said, rolling his eyes.

"But...you've had to have seen someone who looks like him, right?" Mathias gave him a hopeful look.

Lukas shook his head. "No. I haven't." He said, sighing.

Mathias sighed, before taking his sketchbook and closing it. He glanced back up at Lukas before looking back down at his sketchbook.

"There's something telling me you're lying." He said. "But...I'm not going to pry."

"I haven't seen him before!" Lukas snapped.

"Yes, I'm so sure." Mathias said, rolling his eyes.

"What makes you think I've seen him before?" Lukas asked.

"The look you made when you saw it." Mathias responded. "It was like you've seen him before. And you weren't surprised he was covered in blood."

He had almost made it outside. He had almost made it out the door, when Lars had appeared out of nowhere, and stood in front of the door, blocking him from leaving. Lars had refused to move or to let him leave until he explained where he was going and why, which he could not. To him at least. So they stood there, neither daring to move, neither daring to speak. The only sound heard was of their breathing.

Time passed slowly, and it was getting more frustrating for both parties as time went on.

Erikur focused on Lars face, and how his eyes were half-lidded, and how he would glance away every so often, and would sometimes look him up and down, before quickly looking away again, his face slightly red. The little scar on his forehead. How his lips were set in a thin line, and how they would sometimes turn into a frown, before going back to the poker face. He found himself looking Lars up and down, taking in more tiny details. Like how his breathing was steadied, while his own was fast-paced, sloppy almost. He found himself staring at Lars' chest longer than he would of liked. He quickly looked away, and mentally scolded himself.

"Let me leave." Erikur finally said, breaking the awkward silence. He needed to leave now, so he could do what he needed. It had to be done. There was no waiting, only doing.

Lars shook his head, and leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. "No." He said. "Not until you explain to me why you are leaving. I believe I deserve an explanation, considering that Laura was crying earlier. So go on."

Erikur sighed in defeat, and took a step closer to Lars.

"It's none of your concern as to why I'm leaving." He snapped, his eyes narrowing.

"Actually, I think it is." Lars snapped back.

"I'm not going to be long." Erikur said, letting his voice soften.

Lars shrugged, and looked off to the side. "I'm still not letting you leave." He said lazily.

Erikur grabbed Lars' scarf, and pulled him forward to where their foreheads were touching. "Let me leave." He said, watching Lars cheeks flush. "Please?" He added, giving him a soft smile.

Lars cleared his throat before speaking. "N-no. I...no." He said, his voice shaking.

Erikur's smile dropped, he opened his mouth to say something, but shut it. He leaned forward a bit. He felt his cheeks flush and watched as Lars' flushed even more,

"Fine." Erikur said, his voice quiet.

He pulled away, and let go of Lars' scarf.

"Fine then." He said, and stepped away from Lars.

"Good." Lars said, pulling at his scarf.

"Okay." Erikur said, his voice going blank.

"Okay." Lars responded, his voice equally as blank.

"Okay."

The stone taunted him. It called him names, it told him he wasn't fit to be a father, that he failed at everything. That he was nothing. No. He already knew he was nothing. He already knew he wasn't fit to be a father. He already knew. It was nothing new to him. He didn't need reminding, from some dingy old stone. He already reminded himself everyday.

"I miss him." Peter said, squeezing his fathers hand.

"I miss him too." Berwald said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"He didn't even say goodbye." Peter said, his voice cracking. "That's not fair. It's not fair."

Berwald glanced up at the sky. A perfect blue, like Tino's eyes. He looked back down, wishing it would rain. So it could match their mood. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair...

"Did you hear that?" Peter asked.

"Hear what?" Berwald asked.

"There...it's..." Peter sighed, and gripped his fathers hand tighter. "It's nothing..." He said.

"Are you sure?" Berwald asked, giving his son a concerned look.

Peter nodded.

It stayed silent like that, for a while. Them standing there, just taking it in. Their 'daily' visit to Tino's grave.

"Do you see that him?" Peter asked suddenly, tearing his hand from Berwald's grip.

"See who?" He asked.

"Him." Peter pointed.

There was a boy standing by one of the graves. His back was hunched, and he would sometimes shake, giving off the impression that he was crying. But there was something off about him. The way he was standing. Too stiff. He was obviously faking that he was crying. And he couldn't see the boys hands. That only worried him more.

"Just leave him be." Berwald said.

"He's crying." Peter said, almost sounding concerned about the stranger.

"No...just...leave him..."

It hit him. Like a punch to the face.

That was the boy who had attacked him.

"Leave him be." Berwald said again.

"Hey mister are you all right?" Peter shouted.

The boy froze, before standing upright.

"I'm fine." The boy shouted back, sounding almost...happy. "No need to worry."

"Peter I told you to leave him alone." Berwald said.

But Peter was running towards the boy, and he could only stare as the boy plunged the knife into Peter's chest, once, twice. A third time, before turning to Berwald, a smile on his face. Blood covered his clothes, and he held up the knife coated in Peter's blood, and waved it teasingly in the air.

Then the boy laughed, and wiped the blood off of the knife with his hand, and waved at Berwald, hand covered in blood, and walked off.

Berwald found himself running at the boy, fury raging through him. He was ready to kill him. He was going to kill him.

He was going to make it hurt.

But the boy laughed, and waved the knife at him, a light red still staining it.

"Oh come on, at least make this worth my while." The boy said, making him stop in his tracks.

Worth...his while.

"I'll kill you." Berwald said, his whole body shaking.

"Will you now? Then why are you just standing there? Get it over with, there's no way I could fight a tough guy like you." The boy rolled his eyes.

Berwald threw a punch at the boy, but was only met with the blade of the knife, leaving a long mark along the back of his hand.

The boy laughed.

"Good. Now at least try this time."

He thew another punch, but the boy easily side-stepped, and brought the knife down into his back, laughing as he did.

He fell, feeling tears prick at his eyes.

"Damn, anti-climatic." The boy said, sounding disappointed. "I really thought you would have at least put up a fight. But I guess not. Hm." The boy gave him one last look. "Any thing you want to say before you go?"

The boy brought his foot down on Berwald's head before he could answer.

"Pathetic."

And that concludes chapter three! Wow, I said I wasn't going to upload it tonight, but somehow, some way, I wrote the rest of it. Jesus. And all the while I was working on a little side fic...that I'm never going to post, because it had gone past the point of no return.

Any way, third chapter. Not exactly the best, and definitely the shortest. A little under 2,000 words. Which, I guess I'm okay with. I would like it to be a bit longer, but I couldn't think of any thing else. Most of what I did think up I want to put in the fourth chapter...so, yeah.

Since I've killed off more people let's do a body count, shall we?

Gilbert
Arthur
Lilli
Vlad
Peter
Berwald

And more are soon to join...ehehe. I'm a good person, I swear.

Well, I don't have too much to say for this authors note.

DOCTOR WHO 50TH ANNIVERSARY SATURDAY WHO ELSE IS EXCITED?

I'm gonna be decked out in Dr. Who gear tomorrow for an early celebration.

And Thanksgiving break starts next Tuesday...CAN YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING

Yes, yes you can.

Okay, well. I guess that's it for this authors note!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

~Faygo