Francis was in the kitchen, cooking. It wasn't anything big, just soup. There rations were starting to run out. That was expected. There had been a party, and lots of people eating constantly. They hadn't been looking after what little food they had, so for everything to suddenly start running out, it wasn't world's worst catastrophe really. Francis picked up a bowl from the counter next to him and filled it with some of the contents from the pan he was using.

"Alfred" he called before going back to the pan, stirring thoughtfully.

There was a bang and a curse from the other side of the door before Alfred came in, rubbing his head and scowling. "What?"

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning" Francis smirked and picked up the bowl, momentarily leaving his soup. "Can you go up and give this to Matthew please?"

Alfred visibly settled at it and nodded, taking the bowl out of Francis' hands and picking up a spoon from one of the drawers. It had been a week since Matthew had been locked in his room. Every morning and every evening, Alfred would walk up the stairs to his brother's room, armed with a bowl of food, a glass of water and a key, open the room and sit inside with him while he ate. It infuriated him, how they were treating him like some sort of rabid dog, and the ones he blamed most for it were Ludwig and Juan. Of course it would be Ludwig, the guy was so set on controlling everyone that he took over as soon as possible. Juan had surprised him. At the beginning, he'd seemed like such a calm dude. Calm and controlled. He was so quiet, then he almost seemed to have snapped, and now he was acting like some sort of tyrant. Roderich was the only one of them all who hadn't seemed to change. He'd stayed his usual calm self throughout the entire process. Naturally, that would make him suspicious, but Alfred knew Roderich. It wasn't him. He was too weak to do anything like kill people.

Alfred got to the top of the stairs he'd been ascending, walked along the hall and knocked on Matthew's door. He wasn't quite sure why he always knocked. He guessed it was just habit.

"Hey Mattie? You alright? Sorry I'm so late today, Francis didn't start dinner until half an hour ago and kept on being distracted by the slightest thing. I'm coming in okay?"

There wasn't an answer.

Alfred grinned. "Are you asleep dude?" He put down the bowl and scratched around in his pocket for the key. Damn it, he'd left it downstairs. "Sorry dude, left the key downstairs. I'll be back in a second."

"Idiot" he hissed at himself as he charged back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Francis stared at him as he came in again.

"Back so soon?" he asked. "You never take that long."

"No" Alfred ran his hand over the surface and picked up the key, holding it up to the light triumphantly. "Forgot the key."

He ran off again and Francis shook his head. As he reached out to pick up the ladle again, this time to dish out the soup to all of them, something splattered on the back of his hand. "He frowned and looked at it.

It was blood.

From the ceiling?

Francis thought for a second and then gasped. Matthew's room was directly above the kitchen. "Oh" he whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

***

Alfred reached the door again, this time armed with the key, and nearly kicked the bowl of soup over, completely forgetting it was there.

"Shit" he cursed, only just missing it and laughing. "Sorry about that Mattie. I just kind of, nearly kicked over your soup, but it's alright, it's here, and it's safe. I have the key too! I'll be in in a sec."

He fumbled around with the keyhole before turning the key and opening the door. Alfred grinned, inwardly proud of himself and picked up the bowl of soup from the floor.

"You must be hungry right? I'm afraid it's not much, we're starting to run out of f... f..." he froze and stared at the room. Half of the blanket on the bed was dyed a deep red, almost purple, colour with streams of the stuff leaking off into a pool on the floor which was slowly dripping down a crack in the floor boards. He assumed it was leading into the kitchen. That'd give Francis a shock when he found out. Hanging above the bed, was Matthew, a knife drove through his throat, most of his front stained with the same purple-red colour. Alfred dropped the bowl he was holding and turned to charge back into the hall. As he left the room, he collided with Francis.

"What's happened to him?" Francis cried, grabbing Alfred's arms. "What's happened?"

"He's... he's..." Alfred stuttered, staring at Francis. "Um..."

Francis' eyes widened and he ran in, reappearing almost a second later, choking, leaning heavily against the wall. Then he was gone, steaming down the hall, down the stairs.

"Francis wait" Alfred cried. "Calm down."

Instead of listening, Francis kicked the door to the living room open, the other three nations sat calmly there.

"Who was it" he shouted. "Which one of you connards did it?"

"What are you talking about?" Ludwig snapped, standing up. "What did we do?"

"Francis calm down" Alfred said, appearing at his side.

"Well it was one of you" Francis spat. "So which one of you was it? Which one of you was it that killed Matthew? Vous connards sont tellement stupide. Je deteste tout le monde dans ce salle. Vous entendre moi? Je deteste vous tous."

"Matthew's dead?" Roderich stared at him.

"Yes" Francis hissed. "Weren't you listening to a word I said? Stapled to the putain de wall, and one of you idiots was heartless enough to do it."

Connards - bastards
Vous connards sont tellement stupide. Je deteste tout le monde dans ce salle. Vous entendre moi? Je deteste vous tous - you bastards are so stupid. I hate everyone in this room. You hear me? I hate you all
Putain de - fucking

My French is fabulous XD

Happy New Year everyone!!! Here, in England, it's only just turned 00:00. Thank God 2016 is over! I think we could have all had that coming a little sooner.
Have a good new year
MiddleEarth4eva