"It's been a month. If you don't want to go to jail, you'll have to tell me soon."

He hated hearing her voice. This was so annoying, her just asking, over and over again, to tell her his story. Even though everyone in the world knew already; He had made sure of that. It just made him want to scream.

"I'll probably go to jail anyways." he replied, "You're one of the only people who can even see me; let alone hear me."

He knew that she was frightened by him. Anyone who could see him anymore would be.

"Well, if you tell me, I'll make sure that they know you are innocent. After all, I could never believe that a quiet Canadian like yourself could ever do this."

"Sigh... I suppose if I am to tell you the whole story, I should start at the beginning..."He said while glancing towards the wall.

"Please do."

"You aren't allowed to interrupt me once I start."

"Okay." She said, almost childishly.

"Fine. Well, my name is Matthew Williams. I was born in Canada and often referred to as, Canada, since most people I knew weren't from there. My brother's name was Alfred Jones, who you probably know as "The First Victim". My parents' names were Arthur and Francis. And like I've told you before, hardly anyone notices me. My own mother forgot who I was most of the time and my brother hardly acknowledged my existence. Hell, even my own pet who I'd had most of my life couldn't remember my name! The only people that really noticed me were my father and my... friend..."

He almost broke into tears there. Damn! He knew he would have to be more careful when talking about... him... But he knew she had heard his hesitation when he almost brought "him" up. There was no way to avoid including "him" in his tale now.

"Well, I slipped up there, but, I will have to talk about him eventually. He IS rather crucial to this story. After all, he is what actually started this." He paused to take a breath. "I am, of course, talking about Ivan Braginski, whom you know as 'The American Fatality'. I remember how we met just like it was yesterday..."

His time with Ivan was really the best time of his life. These were the most vivid memories he has.

"We met because of my brother. My brother was always stupidly obsessed with criticizing other people's views on almost everything, politics, religion, sports, even what they ate on burgers! He had somehow managed to get in a fight with Ivan or communism. Alfred was getting beaten to a bloody pulp, just for setting off this big Russian. I was just thinking of what I should do,when suddenly I found myself over there, clinging to Ivan's shirt, convincing him to stop. Ivan turned to me, with the most childish smile I have ever seen. And he simply said, "Would you rather become one with Russia instead?" I don't remember what I replied, but it made him ignore Alfred completely and scoop me up in his arms and walk away with me. I don't even think Alfred even noticed that I had been nearby. But that doesn't matter."

He smiled, recalling more memories.

"Ivan and I started dating after that. And I know what you're thinking, but I'm Canadian and it is perfectly fine to be gay in that country. Anyways, after Ivan and I had been dating a few months, we decided to introduce each other to our families. Well, when I met his sisters, it was not fun. One of his sisters was fine and even encouraged us, I think. His other sister completely freaked out, and I think she had a really, REALLY close bond with Ivan.

It was worse though, when he came to meet my parents. It was hard and frankly, very stupid, to get both my father, Francis, and my mother, Arthur, in the same room together. And both of them were frightened the second Ivan came into the room. Francis didn't really care about us, but Arthur couldn't remember that I was even related to him. And said that even if I was related to him, no child of his would ever be gay. And I yelled at him. I yelled, "You have no right to say that when you had sex with this French whore and still do!" I think that was the first time he truly noticed me.

After that, Ivan and I moved in together. And we were worse than two honeymooners if you know what I mean."

He had never told anyone his story before. It felt somewhat nice to be releasing all of these feelings. He knew he would be put to death anyways, so at least he knew someone would hopefully understand why he did it.

"One snowy morning. I had woken up early so I could surprise Ivan and make a breakfast of pancakes and vodka. I had also walked outside that morning to the surprise of some early sunflowers that had apparently bloomed overnight in our front yard. So I picked them and set them on the table just before Ivan walked in to find my surprise breakfast. He simply said, "Good morning, Matvey." and sat down. God, I loved the way he said my name with his funny Russian accent. Sigh...

After he finished eating, he stood up and knelt on one knee, "Matvey, will you become one with Russia, please?" Of course, I said yes. We planned the wedding a bit. We knew the only people that would come would be Elizaveta, Toris, Raivis, and Katyusha. We didn't care though.

But one day, about two months before our wedding, I received a call from Alfred.

"Hey dude! You know where that Ivan guy is, right?" I didn't understand why he was asking. I said,

"He was going to the store. We ran out of vodka."

"Wrong. He's in a ditch off of 36th and Main! Ha! I shot that fucking Russian cuz he threatened to throw a bottle at me!" I knew Ivan must have just been waving with a bottle in his hand. He does that all the time! I immediately hung up on Alfred and rushed my way over to 36th and Main just to find what my brother had said true. Ivan had been shot in the arm and the chest. He was still breathing, but only barely. I knew he needed to get to a hospital. But stupid me forgot to bring my cell phone and the ditch was a 10 minute walk from our house. I was sitting there with him, just hoping against all odds that someone would drive by and notice us. Of course, no one did. I knew he was getting weaker, and I knew that Ivan, MY Ivan, wouldn't last much longer. He started to speak and I tried to hush him, to make him save his strength, but he wouldn't.

"Matvey... "

"Yes... Ivan?"

"Matvey... I wanted to give this to you..." He handed me a knife with a maple leaf on the handle.


"I also... got you a new hockey stick... It's in my closet... "

"Ivan... don't be like this."

"Matvey.. you know I won't make it."

"Shut up! You will make it!"

"Matvey... I l-love... you..." He was fading out.

"Ivan! Ivan don't do this! Ivan you can't!"



"Goodbye... Matvey..."


And he just died. Just like that. In my arms. He had no reason to go. He had no reason to give me a knife. I was a pacifist. I didn't believe in hurting other people. So I did what I would've done with the knife any other day. I hid it in my jacket. I have an inside hidden pocket in it, you see. The next thing I did, was go back to our-no, my, house and find the brand new hockey stick in a closet.

Then I went to Alfred's house.

I knew what I was going to do the second I saw Ivan. That's why I stole our neighbor's car. Y'know, that fast Ferrari. I knew that I needed to get to Alfred as fast as possible. Plus, no one would recognize me in that car. I got to Al's house and just walked through his front door. He was so stupid to leave it unlocked. But that's a typical American for ya. I found him, asleep on his couch. I knew he was a heavy sleeper, but I was very surprised that he didn't wake up the entire time I dragged him to his basement and chained him up. I woke him up very gently by smacking him across the face with my hockey stick. It's a shame that he started bleeding so easily. I wasn't planning on getting the stick bloody until much later.

After I hit him a few more times, he wasn't begging at all. Typical American arrogance. So you want to know what I did next?"

His psychologist was looking very surprised and scared. But she nodded her head slowly probably thanking the fact the he was in a strait jacket.

"I stripped him of his clothes. And I raped him."

Now his psychologist was REALLY surprised. She was holding her hand up to her mouth in shock.

"Alfred was screaming the whole time. After that, I simply had to call him a few names before he was begging for mercy. And being the kind, caring brother that I was. I obliged. I simply knocked his head off his shoulders. Want me to continue my story?"

She had the most scared look on her face.



She jumped back, wondering whether or not to press the magic button under her desk that summons the security guards. She decided against it.

"I will continue. After I left Alfred's house, the full severity of what I had done sank in...

And I loved it.

It was more like an instinct than a crime. I needed more. Maybe I should have said it was like a drug. Yes, but it was more addicting than any drug. I needed to chose my victims carefully though and evade any police force. I left America, and I flew to England. I went to Arthur's house. And guess what I did there. I beat him to near-death with my hockey stick. And I fucked his broken, bloodied body.

Can you tell of a pattern? I did the same to Francis, even though he noticed me, I knew he would make a good fuck-buddy. I didn't even have to threaten him. Feliciano Vargas, his boyfriend, Ludwig, Romano, Antonio, Vash, Toris, Raivis, Heracles, Berwald. Oooh. The most fun one to kill? Definitely Natalia. Perhaps because she was a girl. I'm not sure. I honestly didn't care.

So unfortunately, your hopes that I was innocent were wrong. I told you I would go to jail even if I told you. And you didn't believe me. What a shame."

The security had come and begun to wheel Matthew out of her office. But still, he continued.

"And you want to know my only regret?"

He was already out of her office, but was yelling so she could hear.

"It was coming back to America to see my dear brother! Even if he was too fucking lazy to see me!"

The psychologist was back in her office writing down what Matthew had told her. She started saying what she wrote.

"Matthew Williams: extremely mentally unstable. Confessed to brutal murder and rape of 13 individuals. Suggested method of treatment: lethal injection."

She stopped and spoke quietly to herself.

"I may even have to see a psychologist after hearing all of that."

Matthew Williams

Went insane from death of husband.

Date of Death: July 1st, 2012.