FrUk Oneshots (Requests Open)

The Huntsman and the Baker Part Four

Three days later, Oliver had made plenty of sweets for when Françios returned he might take him with him, back to his home in the woods.

The blonde had perviously mentioned that he lived with friends, and that there were many people within the hold, so the pink hair man thought that the sweets might be a good guest gift.

 He had been busy with the bakery for the past days as well, and had been thinking about the Frenchman more, and more.
Each thought of the male made  Oliver happy, and a little less lonlier as he waited for the Huntsman.

All that was about to end though. 

The fourth night without Françios, while Oliver was cleaning the bakery, the door was kicked open. Oliver turned around with a jump, and scolded the three men who came into the door:
"Now if you chaps wanted something!" Oliver growled "You could've knocked, not kick down the door, It's going to take me forever to get it back on its hinges!"
 One of them stepped forward, and grabbed Olivers hair, telling him to keep quiet.

"Where's the money?!" The one holding Olivers hair snarled. 
"What-?" 

"ANSWER!" The man screamed. 
Oliver was about to answer but he took to long, according to the man. He began kneeing the Baker in the stomach, with each kick the bakers back hit the bar counter where he made bread. Oliver coughed, and lurched forward, pain circling to his ribs, and lower back.
Oliver remembered the knife in his shoe, and developed a plan. 

He was (thankfully) thrown to the ground groaning, after the eighth kick. 
The male stood over Oliver, and spat on him.
"Tell me where the money is!" he growled.

"I-I have to sh-show you where." Oliver wheezed out. "It-It's hidden."

"Fine." the man spat. 
He grabbed the pink haired man by the hair, and pulled him up. 
"Wait here." The two men said to his friends.
They nodded, as the other two went to Olivers bedroom. Oliver didn't bother shutting the door. He went to his bed, kneeling to look under it. He pulled out his sharp knife, that his older brother had given to him, many years ago.
With lightening speed, he turned, and threw it, hitting the man in middle of his throat. 

The intruder stumbled backwards, and fell to the ground, a gurgling sound coming from his mouth, as blood seeped from the wound. 
Oliver limped over, and took his knife out of the mans throat. One down two, to go. 

The pink haired male, panted out of his room. Glaring at the other two males, his eyes seemed to swirl with a red color, around the blue, the eyes seemed to glow. 

The other two men felt a shiver go down his spine, then one of them lunged at the male. The other followed.

Two against one, one held Oliver down, while the other began punching him, and kicking him. 
Oliver yelped in pain, he used his knife, to try, and slash at the other mans arm. One of the two men kicked the knife away. Oliver arched himself off the floor, and bit the one mans ankle. His teeth latching themselves inside the muscle, going deeper, and deeper every time he struggled.

"GET HIM OFF! GET HIM OFF!" The male screamed in pain, the other man let one of Olivers hands go. Big mistake.

Oliver let go, grabbed his knife, cut one of the mens arm, down the vein. The other man kicked Oliver on the back of his head. He fell forward, groaning. 
The last man, turned the Baker on his back, and pinned his arms, grabbing the knife, he ripped open the mans shirt, and began cutting into the smaller mans chest. 

The ex-hunter yelped in pain, let out grunts, groans, and cries. Tears of pain streaming down his face. The cuts were long, and slow.
The patience this unknown man had to do this in Olivers mind was incredible.

Soon Oliver passed out, as the warm sun began to climb into the sky, and the man took the bodies from the home, one by one. He didn't give Olivers body a second glance, as he left the bakers body on the cold, wooden floor, bleeding.