Matthew watched the rest of the news on a high. The rest of the program was irrelevant as his mind entered a dreamlike state and he wondered how they'd keep reporting the case. Surely the story would be followed for at least a week. Maybe he should buy a newspaper tomorrow? He hadn't read one in years, but he thought he should have a memento. But then he thought better about it. What about Alfred? He was upset and seeing the paper wouldn't make him feel better.

Actually, maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea. Matthew was mad at Alfred for hiding the truth from him and this would make him feel guilty. Why did he have to walk on eggshells for his brother? Maybe he could drag the truth out of his shitty brother who kept secrets because he thought Matthew was below him.

Alfred eventually came back and finished his soup. He looked much more presentable but avoided eye contact when he gave his lame excuse.

"Sorry, my stomach was playing up. I had to go." He chuckled and checked his phone. His face fell for a second before his facade was back up and he shoved his phone in his pocket with unnecessary force.

Matthew just nodded even though Alfred wasn't looking. He wondered if Alfred ever got tired of putting up a facade for his own twin. Matthew was always jealous of other twins who were a package deal and each other's best friend. They could be tackling the world together but Alfred would prefer he didn't have Matthew. It used to make him really upset. Being ignored and left behind by peers hurt, but his own brother? Now he only felt annoyance instead of sadness. He was annoyed that he ever put up with it, that it ever happened to him. Annoyed at Alfred.

He'll be getting that paper and using it to punish his brother.

The 'savage' attack made headline news in the paper. The lack of information so far left a lot of room for media speculation. They hadn't released the victim's name yet for some unknown reason, likely privacy. But Matthew hoped it was only a matter of time. It would extend the story's life and then he could see Arthur's face plastered on every paper article and news program before he faded into obscurity.

Alfred was still in bed when he brought the paper home and put it on the coffee table. Whether or not his brother was awake was a different story, one Matthew could investigate after he read the paper.

He was filled with the same strange prideful emotions as he saw his handiwork on the front page. There was a picture of the crime scene and a white tarp over the body and police officers were standing around within the sectioned-off area.

'Savage knife attack on tranquil track - more on page 5'

Matthew flicked to the article. It was mostly just dribble to extend the article and speculation but he read it all.

'The bloody body of a 25-year-old local man was first discovered by an unsuspecting jogger, alerting authorities immediately. Police quickly responded, closing the trail to the public and investigating the scene. An autopsy would provide further details, however, police believe a small knife was used to inflict multiple stab wounds to the chest and neck which resulted in death.

Police have yet to theorise a motive, stating the victim was taken by surprise because there were no signs of struggle, suggesting the attack was random and spontaneous.

An estimate suggests the body was there for an hour before discovery, shocking the community that something so heinous would happen in broad daylight.'

Matthew couldn't ask for better timing when Alfred's door creaked open and he emerged into the shared living space and made himself a coffee. Matthew gathered up the paper and followed him, placing it on the kitchen counter so they could both see it.

"This is terrible," his soft voice caught his brother's attention and Matthew could see the recognition and guilt dawn on Alfred's face as his eyes caught the key details of the headline. "So close to home and in broad daylight too."

In retrospect, broad daylight was stupid of him but thankfully no one saw him. Alfred's head hit the cupboard in his haste to turn away from the confronting news and shakily grabbed his coffee. Matthew bit his lip. He'd have to push a bit harder.

"Alfred? Are you alright? You've been acting off since last night."

"It's nothing," he answered too quickly. "You don't need to worry about it."

Matthew felt hurt. Why would Alfred keep this from him?

"But I am! Why won't you tell me?" Why couldn't he prove Matthew wrong, just this once? "If it's something serious what happens when I find out later?"

Alfred looked conflicted as his eyes became glossy.

"Look, Mattie... it's- I, um- Argh. I'll tell you later." Then Alfred was brushing past him and he was gone.

Matthew's mouth twisted as his eyes began to water and conflicting emotions pulled him in every direction, but his shell of a body stood frozen in place.

Alfred never told him.

A couple of days later Arthur Kirkland's name and face made the news. Matthew bought two newspapers. One to leave lying around on the kitchen bench to let Alfred know that he knew, and the second to stuff in a drawer in his room. He didn't know what compelled him to do that, he'd never been a hoarder before. But ever since watching Arthur go limp, he'd been strangely fixated on when he'd kill someone again. He knew he should've been concerned that the idea never disgusted him, but he didn't push it into the darkest recesses of his mind like he would've done once upon a time.

He knew Alfred found the paper when his brother burst into tears and collapsed on the kitchen floor. Matthew felt guilty at his reaction and wondered how he'd been holding it all together until now. If he had been desperately trying for the sake of others or to preserve an image, Matthew wouldn't know. Alfred never talked to him.

"I'm so sorry Mattie," Alfred wailed when Matthew came in. He slid down the cupboard next to his brother as Alfred kept apologising and holding the paper so tight it threatened to rip. Arthur's face was contorted but he still had a smile that Matthew knew he would miss, even if it was never directed at him. He felt sad that Arthur was gone but he was barely in his life to begin with, so it wouldn't impact him that much. Matthew reminded himself of that to bypass any guilt. He did want to apologise to his brother out of reflex, but that wouldn't do anything. Instead, he leaned into Alfred as he desperately scrubbed his eyes.

"I'm sorry Mattie, I just didn't know how to tell you!"

Matthew wanted to say that he would've rather heard from Alfred than learn from the paper, but kept his mouth shut. Alfred kept repeating himself and in most scenarios a placid Matthew, because he can't be anything else, would say 'it's okay'. But this time, Matthew stayed quiet as Alfred drew him into a hug and did his best to reassure him. Even now Alfred was still trying to play hero, but Matthew ignored that as he allowed himself to go slack in his brother's loving arms.

It's all Matthew could've ever asked for. Just a little bit of evidence that Alfred cared for him. Even if it was in the wrong circumstances and wrong way.

He knew that his brother loved him... well, he didn't know that. Sure, Alfred was possessive and treated Matthew as an extension, but that didn't mean love. His entire life he doubted if Alfred loved him like a person but occasionally he'd be given undeniable proof. And now Alfred was giving it too late. Matthew was a ruined person, and he had killed Arthur.

Since Arthur's death there had been a lot of chatter. Matthew loved hearing people talk about it. About what he did. About how horrible it was. And it was horrible, but he loved the attention. He'd gone his whole life cold and once he felt a flicker of warmth, he wanted to burn.

He didn't know what Alfred was thinking. Was he just never going to tell Matthew that their cousin was killed? Was he going to keep him out of the loop and not let him go to Arthur's funeral?

Arthur's funeral was nice, held in a lovely Catholic church with a tall, decorated ceiling. Not a single detail was missed in the planning and more people attended than Matthew would've thought.

Matthew's funeral would never have so many people. In fact, he bet someone would forget to even plan it. He found himself getting offended at the scenarios that plagued his head despite knowing they hadn't even happened. The planning would fall to Alfred because their parents were always too busy for him, and Alfred would put it off because he never put his life on hold for anyone.

Arthur's coffin was nice, but to many people's disappointment, it was a closed coffin funeral. It seems that the funeral director couldn't think of how to make his body presentable in a way that didn't remind anyone how he was murdered.

Matthew felt conflicted but also empty while sitting in the Church. It was a feeling he was used to - being alone despite being surrounded by people. He felt bad for all these people mourning, he felt amazing that he had caused this, and he felt nothing at all. The apathy was loud. In the row next to him, Arthur and Alfred's shared friends were sniffling and leaning into each other. Matthew could see his brother's cowlick sticking out from the crowd. Once upon a time, Matthew wouldn't have minded that his twin sat with his friends while Matthew was left behind and alone. But as soon as they arrived at the Church Alfred was darting off without a single word to Matthew. It didn't even surprise him. Matthew kept the sour look off his face until he was alone in his bedroom. Alone like he always was. Alone with his thoughts.

His thoughts screamed to be heard.

His daydreaming didn't stop. Sometimes, when Alfred was out, he walked through the house flicking the switchblade as he thought. He was always a thinker. His introversion was a flaw to others, something that made others like Alfred more. But to Matthew, it was his greatest strength. Being introverted and almost invisible ensured he was kept alone with his thoughts. Not only was he a deep thinker but he was a great observer of people because he was never in the crowd.

He could kill again. It wouldn't be hard if he did it right and it'd be fun. It'd be a great way to get rid of the stress from a life he can't run away from. If he can't be another person, one who's loved and given a great hand in life, then he'll just take. He was always a giver, giving up so much of himself and never getting anything in return. Giving until he was empty and only a shell. It was about time he took.

All that was left was to think about who he should kill. How about anyone and everyone who just instantly judged him and collectively thought that he wasn't worth it and never gave him a chance? Maybe he should just keep his switchblade on him if inspiration ever strikes. But who would inspire him? It would have to be someone he believed deserved it. If he was going to kill people who hurt him the most, that would be people from his past and in Alfred's life. But if he targeted people, eventually someone would figure out a pattern and make connections. So he shouldn't go hunt down any specific person, no matter how much he desired. He'd have to settle for daydreaming if he wanted to kill a specific person.

But maybe if he came across someone he knew by chance, it would appear to be random enough. He really doubted that if he only killed people he had a grudge against, would anyone actually make a connection to him, Matthew Williams. Yeah, right. As if anyone would look past Alfred and see his shadow. If Matthew didn't exist, then they would be searching for a ghost.

There were a few people who certainly deserved to be haunted...