It was dark, so black it was suffocating. He couldn't see but he could feel everything, the pain in his knees, his wrists and shoulders. He could feel the chains pulling his arms back so tightly his shoulders would dislocate if he was pushed forward any more.
He could hear voices. They surrounded him and his skin prickled with the hundreds of gazes burning his skin. That's when he realized he was naked, he felt the gazes look over him as if he were an object. They sent involuntary shivers down his spine and he felt someone walk closer to him. Their steps shook the wood he kneeled on and yelped when a large hand yanked his head back by his hair.
The person was male, no female had the disgusting musky smell of sweat and blood on them like this. His voice rose above the others, he could barely understand him...wake up...It sounded like German but surprisingly it wasn't the harsh accent he was used to hearing...Wake up...It sent a cold chill down his spine when he understood the man was talking about him; the wandering hand and his change of tone was mocking.
The voices started getting louder when the man yelled a single or two syllables. It was an auction. He was being bid on by these people, it was a slave auction. As his panic rose the voices stopped and the chains on his arms loosened and he slumped forward.
He was flung to the floor and a cry left his mouth. He couldn't believe it...Wake up!...He felt another hand, not so big as the announcers but it sent dread down his spine and he whimpered. That was when he heard hell break loose.
Screams erupted from somewhere above him that quickly moved to where he was lying with the vile hand on him. He flinched violently and his shoulder screamed in pain. The liquid on his face was thick and warm...Wake up!...The slighter hand fell away and voices yelled above him. He couldn't hear who was above him over the chaos...Wake up!...Everything was being destroyed around him but he didn't feel scared, not at all. It confused him, he couldn't hear but he could feel someone above him, and for some reason he felt protected, safe..
He wasn't expecting the hand and he jumped, wrenching his shoulder and he instantly screamed as it popped out of place. The chains had pulled his arms so much that his sudden movement was enough to yank it from its home. Through the pain he felt the person's hand on his arm and he whimpered...Wake up!...This hand was a man's, he could feel the callouses and years of fighting through it. With this hand that probably caused mountains of pain, didn't scare him. He felt safe and didn't flinch back when he leaned closer so he could hear his voice, and he instantly felt safer...WAKE UP!
The sound of beeping woke him. It screamed into his ears before his hand silenced it. He sat up with a sigh, this was the fourth night having the same dream. It wasn't nightmare but it still made him uncomfortable. A slave auction, there hasn't been one of those in years, that they've found anyway. Shaking the dream away he sat up and got out of bed.
His room was illuminated by the sun peeking through the curtains. He opened his closet, pushing his hockey stick back as it tried to fall out and looked for what clothes to wear. He settled on a plain black t-shirt, red hoodie, light blue skinny jeans and his red and white sneakers. The sweatshirt fought off the morning chill as he went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth, and brushed his blonde hair, that damn stray curl hanging in front of his face. Now at the age of twenty four he's gotten use to the hair, it just annoyed him that it would sometimes get in the way while reading or needing to concentrate.
He left the bathroom with a yawn and made it back in his room. He grabbed his glasses off of his nightstand and placed him on his face, the room becoming clearer. After a second of hesitation he opened his nightstand drawer and looked at its only contents; a pistol and a knife.
He stared at them for a while before placing the gun at the small of his back, just to the left, and the knife in the sleeve of his sweatshirt. The cloth hid the weapons well, and didn't hinder his movement as he moved down the stairs. His shoes barely made a sound on the carpeted stairs as he made his way to the kitchen.
He heard the sound of plates clinking, a low humming, and the smell of cooking food can out of the pristine kitchen. At the stove was a man six inches taller than himself, shoulder length, wavy blond hair and when he turned soft blue eyes smiled at him; Francis Bonnefoy, "Bonjour Mattheu! I'm making ham and cheese crepes and there's bread in the oven and preserves on the island. Did you sleep well?"
Mattheu sat at the island with a sigh, picking up the jar of peach preserves, "Bonjour Francis...I had that dream again. I hope it's just a dream and not some...premonition."
Francis laughed, "I'm sure it's just a dream mon amie, nothing to worry about. I'll admit it's a bit strange but it might just be your imagination getting the best of you." He turned with a skillet in hand and slid two crepes onto their respective plates.
Mattheu sighed and watch his flatmate pull a loaf of bread out of the oven, "I hope you're right Francis...Merci." He started on his crepe, once again Francis out did himself even with such a simple meal. The Frenchman liked to make things himself, hence that loaf of bread. The only thing he didn't do was butcher meat, he had a specific deli he went to that he knew butchered their own meat without added toxins.
Francis sat down across from him and picked up a fork, "What are your plans after class? I was thinking we could go out with Arthur to that cafe or maybe see a movie!"
He took another bite of his crepe as he watched the Frenchman ramble on about different places they could go. Mattheu smiled slightly and shook his head, "Today is Thursday, I was going to go with Alfred to Feliciano's dance class." His friend had taken him to the class one day. Looking at the larger blonde, people would think he was a football player, not a ballroom dancer. Mattheu couldn't help but smile when people found out he danced, their look of shock greatly amused him.
Francis looked up sharply at Alfred's name, "Are you sure that's safe? Arthur and I can go with you just in case-"
"I'll be fine Francis." Mattheu frowned at his flatmate but he couldn't be angry, the man was like a father even though he was only two years older than him. He couldn't hold the frown for long but giggling, "I won't stop you two from coming but I can take care of myself you know."
The Frenchman sighed, "I know, but you never know what can happen." He took a bite of his crepe while spread preserves onto a slice of bread.
Mattheu smiled and stood, placing his dish in the sink, "Thank you for worrying about me Francis. Will you be coming to the class with us?" Mattheu wouldn't mind Arthur joining them. Arthur was Francis' close friend, the two knowing each other for years before he had met Francis. The two were very close but had yet to started going out yet. Alfred says it's because Arthur doesn't want that from the Frenchman but Mattheu knew Arthur's pride wouldn't let him give in. So Francis chased and Arthur ran, Mattheu was just worried if Francis would ever tell Arthur what he did during the night, or if he already knew and that's why he didn't get any closer.
Francis looked thoughtful for a minute so Mattheu knew the answer before the older blonde spoke, "I'll try and convince Arthur to come, I haven't been to these classes yet so it could be fun!"
Mattheu then decided it was time for him to leave for his classes if he didn't want to be late. He said au revoir before grabbing his bag and heading out of the two bedroom flat. They lived in a more expensive area of Quebec, their jobs helping pay the bills with more than enough to spare.
He had made it outside the building and heard his name being called. Looking to his left he could see a head of blonde hair, a cowlick sticking straight up coming towards him through the morning crowd. The blond stood at 6' 3" and easily towered over himself; Alfred Jones. He looked up as the blonde got closer "Bonjour Alfred. You're on time today."
Alfred rolled his eyes and pushed Mattheu slightly before walking away, Mattheu easily catching up, "Oh shut it. Anyways are you coming to Feli's dance class? I hear he's teaching a style of salsa dancing I think with Italian flare was the way he put it."
Mattheu smirked, "I said I was coming didn't I? Besides...are you ready for the history test?" He giggled as the larger blonde slumped and groaned. Mattheu smiled, "You'll do fine, like you always do."
Alfred looked up, "Well don't jinx it!" He slapped his hands to his face and groaned even louder, "Now I'm going to fail because of you Mattie! Thanks a lot!"
Mattheu rolled his eyes as the blonde continued to complain the whole walk to their school. They both went to the University of Quebec. Alfred was there for a major in French and Astrology while Mattheu himself was going there for a major in zoology. They walked through the doors and headed for their history class. This was the only class the two had together, only seeing each other after their classes.
Sitting in his seat Alfred slumped onto the desk with a sigh, "Let's get this over with…"
Mattheu laughed, "Really Al...you act as if you're still in high school." He leaned back in his seat as they waited for their professor. It was a good ten minutes for the short man to enter the classroom.
The professor began to hand out the test and Mattheu sighed as he looked over his paper, if only they knew how some of these events really happened. He picked up a pen and began to right, smirking slightly at the miserable sounds Alfred made beside him.
Mattheu and Alfred walked side by side on the sidewalk, Francis walked behind them beside a shorter blonde man. His hair was dirty blonde and brushed his ears, barely dragging attention away from the thick eyebrows above emerald eyes; Arthur Kirkland. The man walked with a scowl and grumbled towards the Frenchman, “Why did you drag me along? You could have come by yourself you bloody git.”
Francis laughed, “Why Arthur I just wanted the company, is that a crime?” The British man sighed but didn’t say anymore.
Mattheu walked silently, listening to Alfred talk about his other classes and his others friends’ ridiculous actions. He ignored his friend as he grew close to Feliciano’s dance studio. The building had a large window so people could see inside and possibly be drawn in by the dancers inside. He blinked at the small crowd looking in. He looked over the studio again as they grew closer. The door was wide open, the two inside not affected by the evening chill. Smooth Italian flowed from inside and two figures seemed to float gracefully around the room.
One was Feliciano Vargas, he was a petite man, stand maybe at 5’2”, he had red-auburn hair that moved with him as he danced, a curl stuck out from the side of his head. He looked over Feliciano’s face and saw his golden caramel eyes shining at the male he was dancing with.
This man made it look as if Feliciano was dancing with a ghost, no wonder there was a crowd. From the back, this man towered over Feliciano with his possibly over six foot stature, it looked like he could rival Alfred in height but he was more lean than his friend. From there he was completely bizarre, he had snow white hair that went just past his ears and when he turned Mattheu had to blink in surprise at the dull red eyes that seemed to stare right at him.
“An albino.” Mattheu looked over at Francis who was smiling, “Now that’s interesting. I wonder if that’s the mysterious Ludwig?”
Mattheu looked back at the two and shook his head, “No...I think Feliciano said he had blonde hair one time.” He looked over the stranger, “Plus I think I would remember if Ludwig was an albino.” They had never met Feliciano’s husband, Ludwig, but the smaller man talked about him enough to know this wasn’t him.
Feliciano and the albino suddenly began to speed up as the music changed, moving into the salsa. He stared in wonder as the two moved like professionals, their feet barely touching the ground, or at least Feliciano’s as the albino performed spins and twists that he didn’t think any of them could do with such ease. The dance drew to close in a flourish, the albino spinning Feliciano a dizzying number a times before dipping him single handed. Feliciano was slightly out of breath but the albino looked unfrazzled.
The crowd outside exploded into applause and the dancers turned to the window in what Mattheu could tell was mock surprise. The albino pulled Feliciano up and the Italian smiled at the people on the sidewalk and waved for them to come in. Everyone filed in, excitement building as they got closer to the two professionals.
Feliciano watched everyone walk in with a wide grin, the albino beside him looking over everyone in silence. He watched the stranger closely, very curious as to who the man was. He sat on the floor with the others and noticed Alfred’s tense shoulders. He elbowed his friend but only got a head shake in response; he’d ask again later.
The small Italian clapped his hands when everyone was seated, “Welcome everyone! I apologize for not welcoming you before, I forgot the time.” He gestured to the albino beside him, “This is Gilbert, he’s Ludwig’s brother and a professional dancer back in Germany. He’s come to visit for a little bit and take part in my classes so please make him feel at home!”
The albino, now named Gilbert, smiled slightly at the applause he received and waved. Mattheu was surprised at the man’s smooth voice, his accent smoother than he thought it would be, “Hello, it is nice to meet you all. I am sure you will surprise me more than I will you.”
The albino’s gaze rested on Mattheu and his group for a second longer than normal but he didn’t have time to dwell on it before Feliciano took over again, “Today I’ll be teaching you the salsa but before we do that let’s see what you remember from last week!”
Everyone stood and his attention was immediately drawn to Feliciano and Gilbert again as the younger man began speaking in Italian to him. The albino nodded and took his place, surprisingly in front of himself. The albino smirked slightly, “Feliciano tells me you know this dance best.”
He was talking about the balboa, a fast swing dance he immediately took a liking to. He smiled slightly at the albino, “I wouldn’t say that...but I accept the praise.” He glanced around him as music started up and watch Francis drag Arthur around the floor and Alfred sweep a young brunette almost literally off her feet. He turned back to Gilbert and almost jumped at seeing how close he was now, he blamed the loud music for not hearing his footsteps. He let a breath out from his nose and nodded to the albino, he was ready.
He almost wasn’t ready for the German to move to smoothly. He placed a hand in the albino’s and settled his other one on his shoulder. Gilbert placed his free hand just above Mattheu’s hip and they were off. They went through the steps quickly, Mattheu looking down slightly so he wouldn’t step on his partner’s feet.
The German chuckled at him, “You are very good for someone who had just started, so relax.”
Mattheu glanced up at the albino’s rust colored eyes and blinked in surprise, from his tone of voice he never contemplated the German’s expression in his eyes. Now that he was looking at them he wished he had. The warm voice was the complete opposite from his eyes, they were nearly blank, an underlying fury gave them a glow. This man was pissed, at what or who he didn’t want to guess but felt sorry for them. The tense muscles he felt under his hand convinced him they would be in for a world of hurt so it amazed him how smoothly this man could move.
He started at the albino’s chuckle and realized he’d been staring this whole time. He cursed himself for being so unaware of what he was doing. He frowned at the German, “...What?”
The German shook his head but still had a smirk, “Liking what you see?” Mattheu’s throat went dry as the man pulled him closer, Mattheu subconsciously moving faster as he did, “Because I have to admit I do.”
Mattheu frowned at the man, “I wouldn’t take you for someone to flirt with a stranger.” Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Alfred give the albino a seething glare and he was immediately on the defensive. Alfred never gave anyone that look without good reason. Luckily for him the song grew to an end and he stopped with Gilbert.
The German looked over Mattheu one last time, the smirk not reaching his cold eyes, “I am not either but exchanging names would not be a bad start.” Mattheu’s eyes widened as the albino bows at the waist, taking his left hand into his pale one and kissed the back of it, “Gilbert Beilschmidt at your service.”
Mattheu quickly took his hand back as he stuttered in surprise, “M-Mattheu Williams...A pleasure.” He quickly walked away to Alfred’s side, elbowing the taller man and disrupting the blonde’s glare, “S-Stop that...people will get suspicious…”
Alfred frowned but stopped glaring and gave Mattheu a look that said they would talk later. He was quiet throughout the whole class. He couldn’t help but watch the albino closer in confusion. The German albino was strange, his English was a lot better than someone who supposedly lived in Germany. His accent wasn’t as rough as other German speaker he happened to run into, if he didn’t know he was German he would guess he was French, or maybe Italian because of the conversation he had with Feliciano earlier. Gilbert’s movements also confused him, when he danced or performed moves for them his feet seemed to barely touched the ground, and his posture rivaled Arthur’s with how straight he stood. It reminded him of portraits he’d seen in the museums of kings and queens, he acted as if he was royalty. Mattheu almost snorted, the man probably had an ego larger than the room, but he didn’t act that way. He almost sighed in frustration, there wasn’t anyone that was harder to read, hell he was able to read Arthur and that man was as emotional as a piece of wood.
He brooded until the class was over, he barely paid attention to the steps of the salsa and by the time they left Feliciano was giving him worried glances. Mattheu gave the Italian a small smile and traded good-byes before walking to the door.
Gilbert watched the people leave and smiled at Mattheu and his group of friends, “It was nice to meet you Matthieu. I hope we see each other again.” Mattheu blinked, the man even spoke French if his perfect pronunciation of his name was enough. The albino looked over his three companions and nodded, “It was nice to meet all of you as well, I hope we can trade names next time.”
Alfred scoffed and scowled at the German, “I doubt it.” He looked to Feliciano, his glare barely softening, “See you later Feli.” The blonde left with hunched shoulders, Francis and Arthur following. Arthur looked confused but Francis was giving Gilbert a careful look.
Mattheu looked between Gilbert, who was now sporting a scowl, and Alfred before giving Felicano a sympathetic look, “Sorry, he had a history test that he was stressing about.”
Feliciano shook his head and waved a hand, “It’s fine, I’ll see you next week Mattie.”
Mattheu waved and with a final glance at Gilbert left the studio. He quickly caught up with the Alfred who walked behind Francis and Arthur, “What’s wrong?”
Alfred was clenching his fists so tightly he thought he was going to break the skin. The blonde spoke through gritted teeth, “A fucking vampire that’s what. That German is a fucking vampire and he seems to have you captivated already!”
Mattheu immediately frowned, “Alfred there hasn’t been a vampire in Quebec for fifty years. I think you made a mistake.” Which was a complete lie, Alfred had the best nose and there was no way he made a mistake. Mattheu said it more for himself than anything, he didn’t want to admit he didn’t know the man he had danced with was an undead killer.
Alfred gave Mattheu a sympathetic glare, if that was even possible, “I’d be careful Mattie. That thing is old, very old, maybe even older than Yao. Don’t trust him Mattie, and from the way he and Feliciano acted I wouldn’t trust him either, as much as I hate to say it.”
Mattheu sighed, “I’ll talk to Francis later and see if I can convince him to go out and get information. I’m not some helpless damsel Al...I think I can take care of myself.” He walked forward, then, done with the conversation. He would convince Francis to watch the German since Alfred would have a heart attack if he went out. More than that Mattheu don’t think he could just watch the vampire without wanting to kill him, or give him a piece of his mind. He was good at hiding and made him feel like a fool, Gilbert would pay for that. A plan popped in his head that he couldn’t help but smile at.
He would get back at that vampire, and that plan may or may not involve killing him.