Something in him changed when he started carrying the switchblade around. He had confidence that swelled inside and inflated him. He was a person just like everyone else and he deserved respect. He wasn't afraid to demand it. Suddenly he didn't tolerate people speaking down to him. Before he wouldn't have the guts to say anything and only internalise his frustration. But since, he no longer trembled at the thought of confrontation. Now he found himself longing for an opportunity to cause conflict and prove to himself that he could stand up and not roll over. Ever since killing Arthur he just didn't see people as the threat they once were. After all, he could always just kill them.
Alfred sent him on a Mickey D's run. Matthew was going to refuse with his newfound strength for boundaries when he realised that any opportunity to go out was an opportunity to engage in his... hobby. He dressed in the most inconspicuous plain clothes he could find before driving to his brother's favourite 'restaurant' and parked on the corner.
His eyes roamed the parking lot as he walked in. There were a few cars parked and the drive-through was backed up, likely the reason Alfred sent Matthew to do it. God forbid Alfred spend any time away from whatever screen has captivated his attention.
Once he stepped inside Matthew knew he'd be waiting some time for his order. There were a few lost souls, looking bored out of their minds as they impatiently stood by the counter waiting for their food. Matthew resigned himself to the wait and felt himself sympathise with the poor understaffed no doubt children operating the restaurant. He ordered and assessed the room while he waited, entertaining his mind with his hobby. No one paid him any attention. He flicked the switchblade in his pocket obsessively. He couldn't pick anyone from here, there were cameras everywhere putting him on the scene and making him a suspect if this was the last place someone was seen.
He felt bad picking someone for nothing, but he wanted to put something on the news again. He couldn't just be a one-hit wonder. As his order was called, he reminded himself that inspiration would strike. Surely if he was patient, the right person would come at the right time.
Matthew juggled the warm bags in his arms as he walked back to the car and struggled to open the car door without spilling their dinner everywhere. He sighed as he dumped the food onto the passenger seat and straightened up with a groan. That was when he saw him. Matthew shut the door quietly and paused as he looked around, assessing the situation with his cunning mind. It was a residential block so no one was walking the streets, but there was the possibility of doorbell cameras and- shit, when was Matthew so paranoid?
He had a grudge against Francis Bonnefoy. He last saw him at Arthur's funeral and did his best to avoid him, and now he was planning how to make this work. Ironic. It was only a little before 8 and the man was stumbling a bit and moving in a way that suggested he had been drinking. Matthew grimaced at the scene. How Alfred and Arthur could hang out with someone so depraved, he'll never know. But after tonight, he wouldn't have to think about him again. Matthew would enjoy this.
He jumped into the driver's seat and drove to where Francis was, stopping in the middle of the road and lowering his window a bit.
"Hey Francis!" He called to get his attention. The man's hair whipped around as he turned to try and figure out who was talking to him.
"Oh! Mathieu!" The man called and almost tripped in his haste to get closer to the car. Shit, Matthew couldn't have that.
"Wait right there or I'll drive off!" Matthew internally cursed. He couldn't let Francis touch the car in any way without Matthew having to wash it later or he could get caught. When Alfred was obsessed with True Crime, he'd demand that was the only thing they watched at dinnertime for months. Matthew didn't have a problem with it at the time, and his current self thanked him for learning so much from it. Learning from other's mistakes would certainly help him not get caught.
"Oh, are you playing hard to get?" Francis teased and Matthew could hear a drunken slur in his voice. Francis wobbled and tried to pull a seductive face, but thankfully stayed in place. "Come on... You know you want me~"
Ever since Matthew knew him, Francis was a huge pervert. He openly commented on other's bodies and made sure they knew how he felt about their appearance, even if they were uncomfortable. He treated people like they were a challenge and woe-d when he found them 'easy', smug when he finally caught the 'hard' ones. Then he turned his predatory gaze on Matthew, too polite and reserved to ever say anything or do anything to stop him. Francis took great delight in making a socially anxious boy uncomfortable, thinking his panicked trembling discomfort was him being charmed. Matthew hated it, but never felt justified in causing a scene. After all, Francis never took it too far so Matthew just had to suck it up.
Something that he just couldn't shake was the power imbalance. He and Francis wouldn't work for a myriad of reasons: he got his name wrong, he only saw a body, and Francis was higher on the social ladder than he was. Matthew was powerless. He wasn't happy about his place, but he could see it. It was predatory that Francis went for him out of all people. Why couldn't he go for someone on his own rung of the ladder? He probably thought Matthew wouldn't kick up a fuss if he crossed boundaries.
"No Francis, you can have me." Matthew gave him a small smile. "How would you like to catch up tonight?"
It was a simple phrase but like everything Francis said, it had a gross double meaning.
"Oh hon hon hon," Laughed Francis as he leered forward. "I would love that."
Great, step one completed. Now Matthew just had to fish for information.
"So you're not busy tonight? I wouldn't want to take you away from any friends or if you had a date."
"Oh, no, you would have me all to yourself tonight. I knew one way or another I'd end up with a cutie at the end of the night~"
"Perfect," Matthew smiled.
"So~" Francis was definitely beyond tipsy if his swaying was anything to go by. But his flirty borderline pervert personality stayed the same. "Where are we going, amour?"
"How about you go to the park?" The same park where he sliced trees and stabbed Arthur. "I'll meet you where the walking trails start! I have to drop something first but I'll get there quickly!"
"Good idea, Mathieu, nobody will be around to hear us!"
Matthew's eyebrows furrowed in amusement and concern. Was Francis not aware that's where his friend died? Very recently?
"I hope so," Matthew chuckled, amused at the double meaning. Francis giggled when he did and started skipping away.
"Wait!" Matthew called. He needed to take away one last loose end. "I can't get out of the car now, but if you leave your phone on the side of the road I'll put my number in for you!"
He didn't need to tell him twice when the man quickly saw the appeal. Thankfully Francis was too drunk to question the logic as he did what he was told. Now Matthew was reassured that he wouldn't drunkenly text anyone to brag that he was meeting someone and spill who and where. That would ruin everything. It was a risk that could end very badly for Matthew.
"Anything for you Mathieu! Please send me a lovely text once you get my number!"
Matthew waited for his target to skip out of sight before driving off, leaving the phone on the side of the road. It was guaranteed it'd be found before the body but it wouldn't incriminate Matthew unless he touched it. Getting out of the car to move it was a bad idea.
He tried not to fidget as he drove home, anxious to see if Francis made it to the right place and this wasn't all for nothing. Once he parked the car he dropped the food in the kitchen knowing damn well that Alfred wouldn't care if Matthew was there to eat it or not. Then he went into his room and locked the door. Alfred would think that he was home and if he actually checked in on him, he'd assume he was sleeping. Matthew left his phone on the bed before he opened his window and jumped out.
He sprinted the entire way to the park, hardly challenged by the clustered woods even in the dark. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Francis dancing on the trail markers. Since the man was drunk, Matthew was more than happy to lead the conversation and nudge things in the direction he wanted.
"Hey Francis," he waved as he got closer but stayed at a safe distance, "can you follow me?"
"To the ends of the earth," he leaned in a way that indicated he was trying to seem charming but just came off as a parody. Matthew wondered if any of the exaggerated pick-up-esque attitudes ever worked for him. Even when sober, Matthew could only imagine laughter at the assumed ironic behaviour.
If only Francis was just charming, just a happy man who loved people and respected them above anything. Then maybe he wouldn't be on Matthew's radar. He thought about it as he led the man into the densest part of the park he could find while keeping out of arms reach. Francis kept trying to grab him and Matthew had to keep reminding him to 'be patient, we have all night.'
That he did. He intended to enjoy it this time without rushing to leave.
"Mathieu! Are we there yet? I cannot wait any longer!"
His needy whining was getting annoying, but luckily Matthew had found the final spot. He stopped and turned to his target, sidestepping when Francis finally tried to throw himself on him. He couldn't touch Francis without risking getting DNA on him. There were on a trail, one much less frequently used so his body wouldn't be found immediately, but used enough that there was enough variety in DNA just in case Matthew lost a hair or something. Plausible deniability.
"This is such a beautiful spot, Mathieu," the other man sang as he ripped off his shirt and wiggled his eyebrows. "Do you like what you see?"
Matthew clutched the switchblade in his pocket as he stared at Francis' neck. He almost felt reluctant because Francis was just such a willing victim, so he needed to rip the bandaid off fast. He needed to start because once he did, it would be too late and he *couldn't stop. So, with his friendly smile falling from his face, Matthew pulled the knife from his pocket and slashed it as hard as he could. Blood surged everywhere as Matthew jumped backwards to avoid Francis' flailing. He could tell the man was trying to scream but all that was coming was gargles as he choked on the thick liquid. Francis' eyes were frantic as he stumbled and fell to his knees.
"My name's Matthew." He finally corrected as he looked down on his victim. This was how he was going to leave his mark on the world! Francis writhed and raked his nails in the dirt as his movements grew weaker yet more desperate. Matthew stood back and watched as his movements grew more frantic as he seemed to sober up. Francis kept looking at him with wide eyes and Matthew fidgeted with the knife. He wanted to stab again but he was wary of his target's swiping arms as he dug and reached towards Matthew. Francis was mouthing something Matthew couldn't make out. Something was stretching inside of him and it had been pulled taunt for years. Tonight, it snapped. Frustration seized the opportunity to lash out.
The world rang in his years as his voice grew louder, demanding to be heard for once in his life. His fingers ached from their hold on the knife as he plunged it forward. Matthew didn't hold back as he told Francis exactly how he felt, how violent his mistreatment was. Each sentence was punctuated. With each statement, he jammed the knife into Francis' chest and watched as Francis jerked through the pain with energy he didn't appear to have. When Matthew told Francis he hated him, he could see the hurt in his eyes that slowly grew cold and unfocused as his limbs went limp and stopped jerking with each movement. Matthew didn't think about it as he plunged the knife again, and again until Francis stopped moving completely. Matthew didn't leave until he stopped breathing altogether. It was curious to watch. Truly a remarkable, unforgettable experience.
He walked home, taking his time as he enjoyed the night and the peace that came over him. The world was silent and so was he. Except his silence didn't come from being talked over or overlooked. It didn't come from resignation from neglect. It came from satisfaction. He cracked his stiff aching fingers in the cool night air and let the feeling wash over him.
He got home without being spotted and climbed back through his window into his room. A quick check proved Alfred was in his room so Matthew quickly threw all his clothes into the wash with twice the powder and locked himself in the bathroom. He let the water wash over him as his hands shook from the returning warmth. He did it. Again. His success overwhelmed him.
This time the victim's name was left out of the news as he had yet to be identified. Matthew figured Francis' ID must've been either left at home or was in his phone. It was a shame, but it did guarantee that it would be on the news again later once Francis was named. Until then, John Doe will do.
"Why would they think they're connected?" Alfred asked with a pained look as the newsreader stared back with a serious face.
"Both were found in around the same area." Matthew pointed out while noting that the area would be observed more in the future and no longer an ideal location to kill. "Maybe they have a clue about who did it or it was somehow similar?"
"I hope they have a clue," Alfred muttered darkly. "Whoever killed Artie better not get away with it."
Alfred had always been passionate about justice. A symptom of his obsession with superheroes that should've been left in his childhood. Ever since the funeral, he'd read through any article he could find, hoping that somehow someone had made progress and Arthur's killer would be discovered. Matthew understood where his brother was coming from, but selfishly hoped the trail would go cold. Unreasonable anger rose at the idea that the minute he finally snapped back at the cruel world, that was when he'd be unfairly stopped.
They sat still on the couch, watching as the news interviewed a police officer who reassured the public they were taking this seriously and hoped that murders in this location wouldn't become a trend. Even went as far as suggesting this was a copycat act of Arthur's murder. Matthew didn't like that at all. He wanted the credit. One person was doing this and one day that would be apparent.
Alfred was sitting there uncharacteristically still with a hand plastered against his mouth.
"Are you okay?" Matthew asked and changed the channel.
"Yeah..." Alfred lowered his hand but wouldn't stop staring at the TV with glassy eyes. Matthew waited to see if his brother would say anything else, but apparently, he wasn't up for conversation. Instead, he escaped because crying in front of his twin brother, who should be his other half, was too intimidating. Matthew wrapped his arms around himself when he was left alone on the couch.
A couple of days later Francis' death is still the focus of the area news, only now he has an identity. As Matthew bought another newspaper, he wondered why it took so long for police to identify one man. If a man of Francis' description was reported missing and a corpse of his description turned up, all they had to do was compare the two. Maybe it just took that long for someone to realise Francis was missing. Matthew knew that was objectively sad, but his personal grudge was pleased.
With his identity being revealed, so did his personal connection to Arthur. The media reported on the 'hot debate' if the two were linked while heavily insinuating they were. Nothing was a coincidence if it would make a story. While Matthew knew it would be bad if everyone thought of a connection being a fact, he wanted to see what would happen.
Alfred was eating his dinner next to him and Matthew discreetly leaned over his shoulder to see what he was looking at on his phone. To his surprise and pride, the internet had blown up over the murders and was already theorising that this was the work of a serial killer. By the tone of some commenters, it seemed they really hoped it was. Whether that was because they were bored or just wanted to be right, he didn't know. But he couldn't stop himself from wondering what the internet would think of him once it was proven that there was a serial killer.
Serial killers were somewhat celebrities, weren't they? It was almost impossible to imagine that a nobody like him would ever be compared to a celebrity. Someone who, in daily life went unnoticed and uncared for suddenly... the idea had a hold on him already.
On the TV, a policeman was being interviewed. He stated that both murders were spontaneous, were in the general vicinity of each other and a blade had been used. He went on to say that someone was only considered a serial killer after killing three or more, with the murders taking place over more than a month and time in between. Then he was assuring the public they were doing the best they could, and Matthew sincerely hoped he was just saying those words to ease fear. After all, what could the police really do? They couldn't prevent him. All they could do was clean up his mess after the deed was done.
Matthew realised he left out the fact that both of them had slit necks, but he supposed the police were trying to downplay the possibility that there was a bigger link between the two and that a serial killer was a potential threat. He balled his fists in a sudden bout of anger. Why wouldn't they give him credit? If he needed to kill another for them to notice, for them to take him seriously, then so be it.
"What do you think Mattie?" Alfred must be having a moment of insecurity to be asking Matthew's opinion. "Do you think the same person did this?" '-the same person who killed Artie' went unsaid.
Matthew kept a smile from his face because he was sure it would be wicked and telling.
"I think this is just the beginning." He said seriously.
Nothing against Francis/France either but I'm not the biggest fan of him in the source material or most fanfics where he's a pervert (and is a one hit note with his personality) and it's just played off. Also I find a lot of fics where he is shipped with Matthew/Canada to have a predatory power dynamic due to Matthew being portrayed as being powerless. Everyone is a caricature of themselves. I'll try to update every fortnight! I'm working 6 days a week so I'm kinda dead inside. Who do you think is next on the hit list?
