[ WP ] Two brothers , both very successful and skilled serial killers , finding out each other 's secret .

I poured the tea as Thomas sat quietly by the table. I did n't have to ask how he liked it. A brother always knows, you know? 
 
 As I passed him his cup, he smiled absentmindedly and then peered into the depths of his own mug. He appeared lost in thought, and I almost interrupted him. 
 
 Then I stopped myself. 
 
 I had always hated that. Another of mother's rules, always catering to his every need. It would've been practically sacrilege to break the deep, brooding thoughts of her totally sacred Thomas. 
 
 Her god damn Thomas, with the long golden hair, and high, model cheek bones. Ever so slightly pouty lips, framing perfectly straight teeth. Hell, even his green eyes. The bastard had even managed to steal the good looks from me. 
 
 Finally he glanced up and spoke, apparently realizing I was there. 
 
 `` So, Peter, how has everything been? Has business been treating you alright then?'' 
 
 He spoke cheerily, his thoughtful look replaced by a cheery grin. The rat bastard. He knew the grocery chain had gone under and taken my little deli down with it. Course, Mum could n't have cared, even before she died. No, of course Thomas was a big executive at some big accounting firm, so her youngest's deli could n't have meant fuck-all to her. 
 
 `` Oh it's great Tommy! You should really see it, the artisan meet market in this area is really picking up!'' 
 
 I grinned through my teeth, smiling as I used that pet name he hated. Like, he did n't know, Mum must've told him. The nerve of him, to come to my house and patronize me. 
 
 `` Well that's great to hear Pete! It's a shame though, I've really been looking for someone like you. The fellows around my office might not see it, but in all honesty Peter, I've been looking for a man, just like you.'' 
 
 His same smile plastered itself across his face, his dumb, expecting smile, waiting for the world to smile right along with him. How did he not see it? How did he not see, how much of a cock he was, coming into my own house, insulting my business and then acting like he could offer me a job on a silver platter! 
 
 It was too much. I excused myself to my wash closet. 
 
 I stood over the basin, with a white Knuckle grip on the edge. I splashed my face with some cold water, trying to regain composure, staring myself in the mirror, trying to hold back. 
 
 But I could do it. 
 
 But everyone would suspect. 
 
 But no one really knew he came here, to my house. 
 
 But he was your only brother. 
 
 But it was too god damn late. 
 
 I had n't even realized it, but I already had the straight razor out of the medicine cabinet. It was sharp, and immaculately clean, even after last time. I flushed the empty toilet, and opened the door back out into my hallway. 
 
 And found my kitchen empty. 
 
 Thomas's tea still steamed on the table, but he was nowhere to be found. Without calling out, I tucked the razor up into my sleeve and began to search. Through the picture window, I could see his car was still there, so he was around. I searched the mud room, and the living room and even my bedroom, but there was no signs of him. But then I saw It. 
 
 Dear god. The basement door was cracked ever so slightly. 
 
 Now it was n't a choice. It had to be done. 
 
 I crept down the stairs, not sure what to expect. Never before had I felt this uneasy in what I considered my own private space. No one else had ever been down here. No one living, at least. 
 
 And yet, there he was. Thomas, the incorruptible, perfect son, standing perfectly unphased, in front of the workbench which housed my collection. 
 
 A perfect row of them. Jars, almost fifteen now, with almost the most perfect green eyes, floating in each, with the most almost perfect scalp nailed to the cork board above. 
 
 I say they were almost perfect, because they could n't ever be as perfect as the specimens right before me. 
 
 I halted on the last step, waiting for him to turn, expecting to savor this moment. I slowly flipped the blade out of my razor, ready for my ultimate prize. 
 
 But then he turned with a surprisingly cocky, calm look in his eyes. And then he spoke and said, 
 
 `` Dear god Petey, I knew we had our troubles, and of course, I knew you had your tastes, but I had no idea it had gone this far! I mean, a fantasy Of killing your own brother..that's a pretty rare one.'' 
 
 My blood ran cold. How, how could he be so cavalier? 
 
 `` You... you knew?'' I mumbled out. 
 
 `` Of course!'' He said jubilantly as he pulled the slim pistol from behind his waistband. 
 
 `` Like I said,'' as he aimed his gun, `` I've been looking for someone like you.'' 
 
 
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 Sorry for any formatting errors in this, I'm on mobile and I'm also pretty new at writing these!
