There was a lot of screaming when Matthew woke up the next morning. He saw Matt shoot up in bed, looking at Matthew in shock.
"Something happened."
Matthew nodded, getting out of bed and throwing a sweater on.
"Come on." He said.
The pair left the room, rushing in the direction of all the noise. They could hear crying and screaming and Ludwig's voice telling everybody to calm down.
This was another murder.
It had to be. Nothing would have been able to bring about this behaviour in the people here. But he wondered about who, exactly.
Had somebody else found evidence?
Or maybe the victim was a rival against Matthew.
Which meant...
"Allen."
"What?" Matt asked.
"It's Allen!" The smaller Canadian suddenly broke into a run, hoping he was wrong. Allen had always been such a sweetheart. He didn't know what he would do if he lost another friend like that.
He grabbed onto the doorframe leading into the common area as he passed, stopping his run.
All eyes turned to him.
Flavio's were watery, Ludwig's shaken. Francis's eyes carried concern and Alfred's...
Alfred's were...
"Mattie! Thank god you're here! I was so scared."
"Scared Aboot what?" Matthew cautiously stepped into the room. He didn't see anything. If there was a body, it was behind the couch.
"He threatened me, Mattie. He told me to keep my mouth shut. And then...he tried to frame me..."
"Alfred...you're not making any sense..."
The American didn't bother clarifying. He collapsed into his brother's arms, crying heavily.
"Alfred," Matthew rubbed his back, hugging him tightly.
"What's going on?" Matt had stepped into the room.
This time there were no looks of suspicion. The crowd parted silently, creating a path for Matt to the couch.
He hesitated, but moved forward slowly.
Matthew settled Alfred onto an armchair, pushing his grabby hands away so he could satisfy his curiosity.
"Mattie no! No!"
"Alfred, wait here." With one last push, he shoved his brother away.
He walked up to where Matt was standing, gasping at what he saw.
"I'll kill whoever did this to him." Matt muttered, his voice shaking and crumpling out of his mouth.
"You're too late." Arthur said. "He killed himself."
Allen had blood all over his head and Matthew almost gagged looking at the way it had spattered across the wall and floor. He reached out and took Matt's and, more to comfort himself than his 2p.
"Fuck! No! Allen wouldn't...he can't..." Matt fell to his knees, his hand slipping from Matthew's. He reached out and touched Allen's bloodied cheek, tears silently forming in his eyes.
"Why would he...."
"He was the killer. He made Alfred cover for him so he could frame somebody else for the murder but then when he realized you were becoming the main suspect-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP."
Matthew could tell that Oliver was struggling not to scold Matt but the fear of being attacked kept him quiet.
"ALLEN ISN'T THE KILLER. HE HAD NO REASON-"
"He did! He had a crush on Mattie and-" Alfred spoke up.
"I need to see his diary."
"What?"
"His diary. Allen didn't kill himself. Why would he?"
"To frame me!" Alfred insisted, standing up."
"If he wanted to frame you he would set up a murder other than his own. He's not an idiot." Matt huffed. "He keeps his diary hidden behind his bed, no matter where he is. He's done it since he knew how to write."
"He could have falsified those entries!" Alfred insisted. "He's crafty! He'll do anything to win against me!"
"That sounds more like you, Al." Matthew stated.
"Where's this diary again?" Arthur asked.
"I'll show you."

Oh shit y'all it's heating up