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

Two

I always make sure I never run dry on victims. From the Victorian era till the modern times, I adapt to find my victims. My clothing I made sure never stands out when I look for them, but I prefer to wear something I'm comfortable with.

Say, I love wearing neon pink and neon blue, for they compliment my eyes. And I do prefer to even look like a gentleman. But nowadays I would receive a weird look whenever they gaze upon my clothes. Perhaps they don't understand that they shouldn't judge based on looks.

It's such a shame when a pretty girl falls into my hands. Well, my lover had once insisted that if I am ever to get my hands on a woman, virgin specifically, I am to bring her to him. I know what he likes to do, but sometimes I would feel a tad jealous at my own victims.

~*~*~

Another foggy night. The moon only a crescent, the stars hidden by the clouds and the atmosphere eerie. Perfect. The only things that prevent me from concealing myself are the street lamps. But I didn't mind.

I waited at an alley, my eyes glancing at one for a second before moving to another. Because this is a parallel universe filled with counterparts, this place is filled with all kinds of evil. I smirked to myself as my gaze fell upon a woman.

My mind made guesses on who she was. Based on her skimpy clothes and her body language, I would have to guess she's a prostitute. Prostitutes are easy to lure. All I need is to promise some cash and they would follow me. I went up to her and smiled like the gentleman I am,"How much?" In return she replied, obviously pushing her arms together to make her breasts look bigger,"Something small or everything?" The more money the more eager they become. "Everything." "It'll be 200 dollars then."

It was really hard to not stare at her chest, since that would be out of character for me. I led her to an empty dark alley, and walked in deeper so that it won't attract much attention.

Have I mentioned that the bad people in the 1p world are goody-two-shoes in this world?

Yes, that means that this world is no different from the other, but here everything is much more chaotic.

As she had her back turned to me as she took off her clothes, I took out a small knife from my back pocket. I grabbed her shoulder to make her turn towards me then I stabbed her stomach. I placed my hand at her mouth to prevent her from screaming as I twisted my blade. Knowing she will be too weak to fight back, I hauled her onto my shoulder, ignoring the blood that dripped to my vest and shirt. All the while I had a maniacal smile on my lips.

With ease I walked back to my house, and inside I greeted my 'son',"Hello, Allen. Have you seen François?" He replied,"In his room, smoking as usual." in a tired tone. It was clear he had just one of his killing sprees, which happened occasionally whenever he got upset or he felt like it.

I thanked him and went to my shared room with my lover. I knocked first and waited for him to answer. But all I heard was a grunt from him. I opened the door and saw him with a girl in his arms. My hand which held the knife trembled as I said,"How many times have I said, not to do your business in our room?" I emphasised the word 'our' with my voice and smile, to show that I was obviously upset.

He said,"Whatever." I slammed the door as my smile stayed on my face. I walked down the stairs then down into the basement, where I did my work.

It's not an easy job carving a human. In a way, it's much different from doing it with an animal. But I had my fun doing so.

But first, I made sure she was awake first. I love to hear pleads and screams from their mouths, I felt superior. But sometimes it gets annoying I ended their life with a slash to the neck. I used a butcher knife to cut my victim's body parts, and took apart all the guts. I placed them in a couple of buckets, making sure I wasted nothing but the bones and skins. I always threw them away, no use for me. What a waste...

I took them to the kitchen and washed off the blood on my hands. Then, I started baking. Now, be informed that I don't just put in all the flesh into my batter just like that. I blend them first. Disgusting I know, but efficient.

I marked my cupcakes with coloured icing, different each time I make a batch. This time, red meant only flesh, blue meant it included sedative, and a lovely yellow for poison.

One body can allow me to make at least... 5 batches of cupcakes, I suppose? So pretty much I'll go on hunts at least once a week.

As I waited for my cupcakes which was in the oven, I decided to make something for supper. I was starving after all. I made myself a simple dish, baked cheese rice. I have a friend who taught me that recipe.

In case you're wondering I have two ovens in my kitchen.

Once done I placed a plate of it on the counter as I took out my cupcakes. Lovely. I can't wait to sell these at my bakery.

As I left them to cool, I ate my supper.

When I threw my plate into the sink, there was a loud unmistakable sound of a door being opened harshly. And sadly I heard several swear words.

I walked out only to be greeted by a pissed off Matt who was fuming something along the lines of "Poachers at my land again". To make myself known I said,"No swearing! Swear jar now!" He placed a few dollars in the swear jar, which nearly held probably 200 dollars. Why yes I live in a household filled with people who swear nearly every second of their lives.

I went back to the kitchen to retrieve my cupcakes and placed them in a box. Did I mention our house is only a floor above my bakery? Convenient, isn't it?

I placed another batch in the oven and went up to have a shower. Sometimes the feeling of dried blood on my skin is very uneasy.

Apparently François was already done with his thing, so he had already murdered the poor girl and well... He dumped the body somewhere. I gladly took my shower, letting the water wash off all the stains on my fair skin. Once I was done I wrapped a towel around my waist. I looked into the mirror and sighed.

Honestly, I think that my freckles look ugly. They're all over my body. As much as I really want to cover them up, a few I know insisted they look perfect on me. Perhaps... But my mindset is so. I wished I never had freckles although I've gotten several comments I look cute with them on my cheeks and nose.

I closed my eyes for a while, my eyebrows furrowing as I breathed heavily. Everytime I think about my freckles, this happens. Perhaps I'm putting too much burden with only a trivial matter.

I felt two arms snaked its way around my waist, bringing me closer to a firm chest. I opened my eyes to see François in the reflection of the mirror, his nose in my hair. He said in a low tone,"Something worrying you?" I nodded, not really trusting my mouth to speak.

"Then let me help you ease those nerves of yours." He said with a seductive tone.

Maybe I'll open the bakery late tomorrow.