The Chains of Insanity: Oliver Kirkland [2p!Hetalia]

Nine

Have I ever describe my ways of killing, especially the baking part? As though I have said of my favourite victims, I would love so much to elaborate my style of murder. I love torturing my victims very much. Do not mind me repeating my words, for I can't help myself saying the same thing over and over again. And please do be reminded, I tend to speak in what they call a sing-song voice as I talk to my victims; it merely emphasises on my enjoyment.

I do not say that the others approve of my ways, namely François, Allen and Matt. François prefers killing once he's bored and would dump the body elsewhere (or include somewhere in my sentence if you're expecting a pun which I am unable conjure because it does not look the slightest bit hilarious). Allen and Matt are much more aggressive, killing with those barbaric weapons. Me? I like to take it slowly, just enjoying the pleas I hear and the screams that keeps me going. I would mark my victims at most parts of their bodies, then once I am satisfied by both feeling and sight, I proceed to brutality at its worst.

The only... Things left of a victim would be the skin and the bones. I have no use of those two. And do please include fat, since it worsens the taste of my cupcakes. I throw those things away, having served me no purpose whatsoever. Of course I had to make sure no evidence of me was left. Being careless is not one of my qualities. Even so, has the good-for-nothing police force ever gotten a single trace me? Not at all! As I've said, the criminals in the original universe are the cops here, but that does not mean they do their job well. People simply cannot be the total opposite of their counterpart. But that is a different story before I stray off-topic.

Shall we proceed? I love preying on my victims at alleys, where most won't see me lowering the chances of a witness. Even if there were to be a witness, I could always ask Allen to take him or her out. After that I would not have a problem bringing the body home.

I should perhaps warn that whatever that I do and will happen, are very graphic. If any of you readers have a weak heart, or cannot handle bloodied scenes with guts and limbs, I strongly recommend that you stop reading at the appropriate time. I have handled these scenes for a very long time, and my eyes have seen more than enough. But to those normal, it might turn your insides. If you are reading this after having a meal, stop. I suppose you do not want half-digested food on your beloved phone or laptop. If you believe you can handle it, continue reading at your own risk.

But not worry, for after the bloodied bits something happened and it's what you can call, fluff.

~*~

I looked at the assortment of knives in the drawer, slowly taking my time choosing one to bring with me. I had ran out of flesh for my cupcakes, and I needed a fresh batch for the bakery. Which meant it was time for me to hunt.

Hunt wouldn't be an appropriate word for me, since it does not sound like me at all, in my opinion. But at the same time, it fitted well into my personality.

I slid a small knife into my breast pocket, with a sheath of course. Then I took a larger knife, but smaller than a butcher knife, into my hand, balancing it before settling for it. I closed the drawer slowly, a habit during night time. If I were not calm I would've slammed it, which would be very ungentlemanly.

I used the back door and made my way towards the main square using the alleyways.

Crowds are good when searching for a delectable victim, the perfect build and all, but crowds are not good when you want to avoid being seen. Which puts me in a difficult situation at times.

What luck I had, when the main square was filled with people. I suppose I had to expect that with the fact that Halloween was around the corner. People were buying things for decorating their homes and adding accessories to their costumes, I even saw several people all dressed up for the occasion. Pumpkins were in sight as well. But I would rather use turnips.