Just a short intro chapter to hopefully capture everyone's attention ^^

Enjoy ~

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Thunk.

Matthew groaned as his cheek rubbed against scratchy carpet that most certainly wasn't his bed's sheets. He wiggled out of the tangled mess of blankets wrapped around his body and stumbled over to his nightstand, slamming his palm over the alarm clock that had so rudely awoken him.

That was the third time this month that he'd fallen out of bed, having the wits scared out of him by his alarm clock. That thing was dead-set on giving him a heart attack one of these days, he just knew it.

Grabbing his glasses and slipping them on his face, he shook his head wistfully and made his way into the kitchen of the small appartment he shared with his brother. His twin, to be exact, Officer Alfred F. Jones of the Los Angeles police department.

Matthew really wished he would find a new job, one that was less dangerous and... Life endangering. But seeing Alfred's eyes light up when he talked about a perp that he had caught or a case he had closed, Matthew rememered why he never pushed it on him.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily as his toast sprung out of the toaster and he picked up gingerly and began to nibble away at it. Speaking of Alfred, where was he? He would usually be wolfing down a bowl of fruit loops, tie flipped over one shoulder as he watched early morning cartoons before he had to head in to the station.

But this morning there was no sign of him.

Only yesterday's newspaper lying on the table, the front page's bold headline staring up at Matthew:

TWO MEN FOUND DEAD AT WHARF 31; SUNFLOWERS LEFT AT SCENE POINT TO GANG ACTIVITY.

Matthew sat down at the table, pushing the paper away and heaving a heavy sigh.

Sunflowers. Alfred had been talking a lot about a case he was working on recently, something about a really powerful gang lead by someone called The Russian, and for some reason he kept babbling on about sunflowers as well, like they were connected.

He had complained for days how his cheif wouldn't let him pursue any leads on him, saying it was too dangerous to be taken on alone and that he should leave to more experienced officers. But both he and Matthew knew that that wouldn't deter Alfred; in fact it made him want to look into it even more. That was Alfred for you.

Matthew found himself sighing again as a loose knot of anxiety began to form in his stomach. Alfred had probably been out on another stakeout last night, trying to dig up more dirt on the Russian, and had crashed at his partner's house. Said partner was Arthur Kirkland, an Englishman living in LA who had joined the force six years ago and took Alfred under his wing as a rookie. Arthur was on Matthew's side and didn't want Alfred going out and being reckless like that, but Arthur always supported his brother in the end.

The two had hooked up about a year after Alfred had joined the force and the two had been in a steady relationship since then. Matthew had always liked Arthur, and was honestly happy for his brother when he'd heard that the two had finally gotten together. But even with Arthur there to help Alfred with whatever self-proclaimed mission he was on, Matthew worried about him. About them both, really. He always got so nervous when Alfred didn't come home at his usual time, his mind automatically produced the worst scenarios of why he was late. Probably too much crime drama tv, he told himself.

Seemed to be telling himself that more and more recently...

He supposed Alfred was finally getting somewhere with his unofficial investigation, but he wasn't sure. Even for a big-mouth like Alfred the police department was very hush hush. Brushing crumbs off his fingers and onto his pajama pants Matthew stood, sluggishly dragging his slippered feet towards the front door, making to retrieve the morning paper.

Maybe there'd be something for him in the want adds. He'd been unemployed for three months and he was getting terribly restless. And it didn't help that Alfred, by far the more lazy of the two, had a fulltime job while hard-working Matthew was sitting at home all day eating maple ice cream and watching televised hockey games and nature documentaries.

He stopped short of the door, however, and looked down at a small white envelope that had apparantly been slipped under the door. He bent down and picked it up, noticing as he brought it closer to his face that it had his name printed on it, in a swooping scrawl of non-cursive handwriting. His brow wrinkled in confusion as he sat down where he crouched, just in front of the door, and opened the envelope.

He pulled out a folded slip of white paper with very little writing on it, but it didn't need more.

It's messege was clear, and it hit Matthew like a sledgehammer to the chest, gripping his heart with an icy grasp and making him unable to breath.

He dropped the envelope, which hit the ground with a muffled thunk, as there was something still inside it, and he slumped against the wall.

1176 South Veranda Blvd. 20 minutes. Come alone, tell no one. Disobey and he dies.

Then there was a drawing of a bright yellow sunflower shining happily up at him. Matthew drew in a shuddering breath and let the letter flutter to the ground, his hands shaking too badly to hold it any longer. He didn't know what to do, what to think. His brain wasn't cooperating with him, like it was malfunctioning.

This couldn't be happening. It was unreal, something out of a horror story...

Matthew shakily picked up the envelope again, remembering how it had landed heavily. He turned it upside down and let it's contents fall, his heart stopping and his eyes going wide.

He let out a choked sob.

There, on the floor of their shared appartment, sat Alfred and Matthew's father's dogtags from his days in the military. Every day since he had died in combat and they'd sent his tags back, Alfred had worn them to honor their father. And now they were not around Alfred's neck, but sitting on Matthew's floor...

Covered in blood.

Dun dun DUN!

Reviews are love!