Chapter Text
Matthew is a hobbyist; he likes to do many things in his free time. Today is a cloudy Saturday and the air is cool, It was a perfect day for hunting after a day's work.
"Hello Ignacio" He closed the door behind him and took off his shoes.
"Dilo en español!" Oh right. There's also Ignacio, or "Nacho" to his friends. He's Matthew's boyfriend, and the way they met was...pretty romantic.
Matthew went to an arepa and taco stand. He thought it was like the tacos that...that other person liked. There he met Francisco and Ignacio, both of whom had migrated from their respective countries in search of something better. he went every day, until she developed a special connection with the Mexican man, and they're quite happy now. Plus, he's teaching her some Spanish.
"I...hola Ignacio"
"como te fue hoy?"
"Pudo ser mejor"
The kitchen smelled great. It always smells good with him around.
"Why? What's happening now? Who do you want me to get involved with?"
"What? No, no, no. It wasn't that bad, it was just a rough day." Ignacio raised an eyebrow sternly and the Canadian laughed nervously.
"Lo sabía"
"It wasn't a big deal. It's the end of the month and you know how accounting is!"
"But Francisco and I don't look that haggard on a Saturday at noon," his voice would sound annoyed, but he's just worried.
They fell silent. Matthew walked around the counter and ran his hands down the Mexican's hips, who still looked annoyed. The blond man rested his head on Ignacio's shoulder, watching him stir the saucepan.
"Do you never get tired of cooking?" He asked in a playful tone.
"Are you tired of my love?" And Nacho answered he in the same tone.
"I will never tire of you, or your food, or your strange habit of making us sleep with that tiger-print sheet." Nacho burst into loud laughter, unlike Matthew's laugh, which was lower and between his teeth.
"Lunch is Pollo enfijolado con chorrizo. You'll be eating this for several, Matthew." He cooks a lot so he doesn't have to cook so often, and Matthew takes it to work. It's a nice touch.
"That sounds delicious," the Canadian said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and removing his hands from Nacho's waist . "I'm going hunting right now"
"Yeah, and when do you plan to come back? You never have battery on your phone or signal for calls. And then you're afraid I interrogate you when you arrive from the middle of nowhere." That's right, it's Matthew's bad habit of his for years: coming and going as he pleases, something that clashes terribly with Nacho.
"Let's see, it'll be 1 o'clock soon...give me permission to leave until...5 o'clock."
"4 o'clock, 5 is very dark. What do you plan to do in the woods as night falls?"
"I understand. Besides, we don't have toilet paper or cleaning supplies." Matthew was about to leave the kitchen, but he turned to see Nacho turning off the stove. They stared at each other for a moment. "So... how long will you and Francisco be at the station?"
"It depends, but I suppose until 10 pm. He's dealing with alcoholism; the withdrawal is hitting him hard," Nacho replied in a calmer tone.
"Breaking bad habits is...difficult, but it's good. I'm going to change," and finally she headed towards her shared room.
"acaso no piensas comer?!" Nacho yelled from the kitchen.
"por supuesto" He responded with another shout.
With Nacho, Matthew feels safe and confident. It's something that fulfills him like the food he cooks. Having him around makes him feel complete, whole, and above all, seen... He changed his white shirt for the red plaid one that seemed to have too much of that same type, appropriate trousers, a green jacket, and hiking boots. Just then, Ignacio appeared, leaning against the doorframe.
"You look sexy when you dress like that." Matthew laughed a little and blushed slightly. "when you plan to take me with you?"
"Believe me, this is very boring"
"So why would you go every weekend or during the week?"
"I need some fresh air."
"...I'm not convinced, but I don't see a problem with that either. I just have one last question."
"Tell me, Mr. Mondragon"
Ignacio approached Matthew (who was sitting down after tying his shoelaces) and pushed him back, ending up on top of the Canadian, who was red as a tomato. He slowly leaned close to her ear and said with the most seductive voice possible : "And if we both finish our things early...we can do something special ... pendejo". Matthew stood there, mesmerized, stuttering. while it seemed that Nacho was amused by this. He just got up, leaving Matthew on the bed.
"You should clean your taxidermy room. It's scary on its own, but dark and dirty it looks like something out of a horror movie," Nacho remarked before leaving. Matthew had already regained his senses and also got up.
"Huh? Yes, I've just posted it countless times, hehe"
"No, there were only nine."
Life together was perfect. It's a bonus that Ignacio tolerates his taxidermied animals that are all over the house, or that he's very shy in groups. I'd never dealt with anyone like him! And that was the world for someone like Matthew, who has been, well, displaced by things like that. And after a (somewhat heavy) meal, the blond man loaded the rifle, ammunition, some granola bars and water into the car, but it wouldn't be a good trip without Nacho's blessing, yes, it will be a good afternoon of hunting. He drove quite a way into the forest, where he walked and walked, and kept walking, waiting for some animal he might encounter there. Or so anyone would think; it would even be a good alibi if someone asked. In a cabin, quite deep in the woods, was the real "why" of the trip. He took out a key and went in, locking it from the inside. In that cabin, any thoughts about Matthew Williams were erased.
"Please let me out. I won't tell anyone, just have mercy."
The idea of "hunting" had two meanings for the blond man with glasses: waiting for an animal to pass by and shooting, waiting for a disrespectful or ill-mannered person to pass by and shooting. He opened a small, hidden hatch in the floor, in the basement was this cage with a sheet over it; you could hear its pathetic sobs.
"How was your second night here? Do you miss your left arm?" he said mockingly.
"Just...let me go."
Matthew pulled the sheet off the cage, revealing the man who was forced to crouch down. "You know what really bothers me?..."
The other one didn't answer, he just looked at him in fear as a deer sees it upon detecting its existence.
"They're looking for you faster, more efficiently. I'd love to have some more fun with you, but...nothing lasts forever." With the rifle slung over his shoulder, he opened the cage where one of the city's corrupt judges was being held, who looked at him in terror. "You have one minute to hide; if I find you, you won't have enough time to keep running."
Matthew pulled out an elegant pocket watch; the minute had started and the judge had already left. The Canadian sighed nonchalantly, slipped the watch into his pocket, and went back upstairs. His victim could still be seen trying to run across the uneven terrain. Then, a minute passed and he prepared to aim. Maybe he needed glasses, but he never missed a shot.
"pathetic rabbit"
At this point, the birds didn't even matter to them. The judge was lying on the ground; it was easier because of the treetops and because the judge wasn't in the best physical condition. It was a good shot, yes, but it was too easy. Wearing light blue gloves, I grabbed the body and carried it to another part of the forest. I dug a deep hole. He got tired and pulled out a granola bar. With a little energy, he opened the torso, successfully removing the liver and kidneys; the head was a clean cut. Matthew put them in a black bag, and the body remained standing, covered in sugar and finally dirt. He took his rifle, cleaned his axe in the stream, and came across a deer, a truly beautiful one.
"He's still very young, I'd call him Bambi." And without much trouble, I aimed the rifle. The deer noticed and fled, but Matthew was a little faster and fired.
Time flew by, he took the deer home. And the black bag? He burned it. Nobody asks many questions when you burn a trash bag, they just find it annoying. As promised, he's now at the supermarket, acting like nothing's wrong, checking prices and other boring things, thinking about how that judge was his fifth victim in recent months and that he needs to streamline the process of erasing evidence, Besides finding another area to take his victims to, or how to continue deceiving Nacho... what if Nacho finds out? What if someone sees him? What if...?
"Matthew?" That voice...that fucking voice. "Matthew, is that you? It's been so long!"
He thought that by moving to Toronto he would be far away from him, that he would find peace and be himself again. But he can never be happy, because it seems he is forced to live under the presence of that stupid, egocentric, and extroverted man....
"Alfred! What...what are you doing in Canada?" she feigned a calm voice while internally tearing her skin off.
"I only came for business and I decided to drink two liters of soda. You have no idea how much we missed you!" Alfred looked genuinely happy to see him, hugged him, and spoke very loudly, like in the old days, making him feel trapped in the conversation.
" 'Do we miss you?' It sounds like a pack."
"Of course! Me, our parents, the Italian guy, the Italian guy's serious boyfriend, Kiku, and your friend from the hockey team." Alfred replied shamelessly so that everyone could see them.
"Wait...is Braginski still alive?"
"Oh Matty! I'd love to tell you otherwise" The joy faded into a mock-pity. Braginski was the closest thing to a friend; it was a friendly rivalry until his nemesis (Alfred) entered the equation, competing against both of them to remain captain of the hockey team. A fight he waged tooth and nail, only to lose miserably.
"Yeah, uh...good"
"What have you been up to these past few years, Matty? You seem to be buying a lot for yourself." false concern
"Well, I work as an accountant at a startup cybersecurity company and..."
"Software?! I work with that too, well I work with many things: cars, medical equipment, weapons, video games, sodas...and...other companies that I bought." Matthew started walking while Alfred boasted about his accomplishments.
And something Alfred hates is being left talking to himself.
"Hey, Matty! How about you give me your phone number? The one I have is out of service, or better yet, unblock me on all your social media!" he suggested cheerfully, hiding the anger he felt deep inside.
"That's exactly why I don't have social media anymore."
"but at least to join the group of 1999 graduating class"
Matthew thought for a moment. Give his number to his egomaniac brother? Join a group where possibly no one would remember him? Maybe they've changed since high school. Also, she'd like to talk to some of the guy from that class.
"If I give you my number, will I be able to shop in peace?"
Alfred nods.
"me lleva la verga. note it"