The Arthur Project

My brother was executed for serial murder. Then he came back through a secret cloning program.

My parents hold this newborn who wore the face of a monster, insisting he was a blank slate. A second chance God had given to our family.

The neighbors and friends all said he was sweet and precious. They told me to let go of my hatred and accept this innocent little brother.

Then, at his tenth birthday party, he leaned close to my ear and whispered in a voice identical to the one I remembered: *"Sis, want to guess who my next target is?"*

---

###

This is a suicide note.

As I write those words, Hearing my parents leading everyone sing "Happy Birthday" song from the living room.

They're celebrating Arthur's tenth birthday.

Arthur Sterling is my brother a serial killer who was been executed.

And the boy out there is his clone.

"Sophie, come out and cut the cake for your brother!"

Mom called from the other side of the door, her voice carrying that familiar edge of impatience.

I didn't move.

I sat on the cold floor of my bedroom, holding the phone, staring at the message my boyfriend had sent me. Liam's a police.

*"Sophie, stop being difficult. Your parents have been through enough. That kid is innocent. be more forgiving."*

*"I already picked out a gift for you. I told them it was from you. Now go out there."*

I read the message. I felt the warmth drain out of me completely.

Another song ended. The living room erupted in applause and cheering.

I could picture it perfectly.

Arthur the boy who wore my dead brother's face would be showing that angelic, unblemished smile of his, accepting everyone's wishes.

And I was the only villain. The only one in this house who played that role.

Ten years ago, my nineteen-year-old brother Arthur was sentenced to death for the murders of seven young women.

After he was executed, my parents aged overnight.

They blamed me. They blamed me for not watching over him. They blamed me for turning on my own family for being the one who handed the evidence to the police.

In their eyes, I was the one who destroyed this family.

Then, somehow, they heard about an illegal cloning program. They poured every last dollar they had into it. And they brought this new "Arthur" into the world.

They told me he was a brand-new life. A blank slate. A second chance God was giving to our family.

They held that tiny infant in their arms, and the look in their eyes terrified me.

For ten years, they gave every drop of their love to this clone trying to make up for everything they felt they'd "owed" the first Arthur.

And I became a complete stranger in my own home. A stain that reminded them of something they'd rather forget.

"Sophie! What the hell are you doing in there?! Get out here NOW!"

Dad's voice crashed through the door. My chest tightened.

I took a deep breath, got up off the floor, and opened the door.

The living room blazed with light. Relatives and family friends crowded around an enormous birthday cake, every face glowing with joy.

My parents stood behind Arthur, hands resting on his shoulders, like they were guarding the most precious thing in the world.

When Mom saw me, her expression shifted instantly into a warm smile. She waved me over.

"Sophie, come on, we've been waiting for you."

She crossed the room, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up to the cake. Then she pressed a knife into my hand.

"You're the big sister. You make the first cut."

I looked down at the knife. The blade caught the light.

Then I looked at Arthur's face.

He was looking up at me with a smile, his big, bright eyes shining like two dark grapes.

"Thank you, Sophie." His voice was soft and sweet.

The relatives murmured their approval.

"Arthur gets more and more well-mannered every day."

"He really does. Sophie, look at your little brother he's such a good kid. It's time to let it go, don't you think?"

My hand trembled around the handle of the knife.

Only I knew what lived behind that angelic face.

Because just minutes ago, while everyone was singing to him, he had walked over to me.

He wrapped his arms around my legs, tilted his head back, and spoke in a voice low enough that only I could hear.

"Sophie, I haven't seen you smile in so long."

Then he rose up onto his toes and brought his lips to my ear. And in a tone that was *identical* to the one I remembered from my brother, he whispered:

*"Sis, want to guess who my next target is?"*

In that instant, a bone-chilling cold washed over me.

Now he was looking at me, a hint of a taunting smile in his eyes.

I raised the knife.

Everyone thought I was going to cut the cake.

Even I thought I would.

But my mind went completely blank. I couldn't think at all.

I only knew one thing I couldn't take it anymore.

I spun around and ran for the balcony.

Behind me came my mom's screams, my dad's roar, and the gasps of the guests.

I couldn't hear any of it.

I climbed over the railing and jumped.

The world went very quiet in that moment.

Down below, I saw my boyfriend Liam. He had just parked his car and was still holding the "gift" he'd brought for me.

He looked up and saw me.

His eyes filled with terror and disbelief.

Then I hit the ground hard.

In the last second before my consciousness faded, I thought I heard him screaming a raw, broken sound that tore through the air.

But I couldn't feel anything anymore.

I was dead.

And yet I could still see everything.

I floated like a wisp of air, hovering above my own body.

I saw Liam rushing toward me frantically, dropping to his knees beside me. He wanted so desperately to hold me, yet he didn't dare to even lay a finger on me.

I watched my parents come rushing down from upstairs.

My mom took one look at my body, and her legs gave out. She crumpled to the ground.

My dad my father, who had been strict as always pointed at my body and started screaming.

"This ungrateful little wretch! She did this on purpose, just to ruin us! A perfectly good day, and she had to come and destroy it!"

I saw Arthur being held by a relative, standing at a distance.

He was watching me. There wasn't a trace of grief on his face. If anything, there was the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

He had won.

I was dead. Now he could finally take my place completely the one and only role of this family.

---

### Chapter 2 ###

My body was quickly covered with a white sheet and carried away.

Liam followed in a daze, like a puppet with all the life drained out of him.

My soul or whatever was left of my consciousness drifted along beside him without thinking.

The lights at the police station were a harsh, blinding white.

As my boyfriend, Liam was asked to give a statement.

"Had she been acting differently lately?" the officer asked.

Liam's lips moved. It took a long moment before any sound came out, rough and hoarse.

"She she didn't like her brother."

"You mean the clone?"

"Yeah."

"Did you two ever fight about it?"

Liam fell silent.

I floated in front of him, watching him squeeze his eyes shut in pain.

I remembered our last fight.

The night before I died.

I had told him I felt like something was wrong with Arthur.

"The way he looks at me it's exactly the same as before. That look scares me," I told him.

Liam had been playing video games at the time. He didn't even glance up.

"Sophie, aren't you being a little too sensitive? He's ten years old. what kind of malice could he possibly have?"

"You don't get it! He's not a normal kid! He's *Arthur*!" I practically screamed the words.

Liam finally put down the controller and looked at me with a frown.

"Sophie, can we please stop bringing up the past? The dead are gone. The living have to move on. If you keep obsessing like this, you're going to destroy all of us."

"I'm obsessing?" I was shaking with anger. "Liam, you're my boyfriend. How can you say the exact same things they do?"

"Because they're right!" His voice rose. "You're taking this too far! You can't assume this Arthur is going to be like the last one just because the last one was a killer. Is that fair to a ten-year-old kid?"

Fair.

There it was again. Fair.

But who was being fair to me? Who was being fair to all those people my age who died for nothing?

I looked at him, and suddenly I felt so, so tired.

"Tomorrow is his birthday. I don't want to go," I said.

"You don't have a choice. You're going." Liam's tone left no room for argument. "Your parents have been through enough. Don't make things harder for them. I already got a gift for you to bring. I'll go with you tomorrow."

He thought that was love. That it was support.

He didn't know it was the last straw.

Now he sat in that cold interrogation room, his face carved with regret.

"We had a fight," he finally said, his voice cracking. "I called her obsessive I pushed her go to the birthday party"

The officer sighed and slid a box of tissues across the table.

"We'll look into it. You should head home for now go through her belongings, see if there's anything that might give us a clue."

Liam walked out of the police station in a daze.

He went back to the apartment we had shared.

Everything was exactly as I'd left it.

My slippers were still by the door. The book I hadn't finished was still lying on the couch.

Liam walked in and sat down on the sofa, pulling my favorite bunny pillow into his arms.

He buried his face deep into it, his shoulders shaking violently.

I hovered beside him, wanting so badly to hold him but I could only pass right through him.

He cried for a long time, until the sky began to lighten.

Then, as if something suddenly hit him, he shot to his feet and rushed into my bedroom.

My room was a mess. I'd left in such a hurry.

He started searching through everything, like a man desperately grasping for something anything to hold on to.

Finally, he found it under my pillow.

My diary.

It was the last record of my despair.

Liam's hands trembled as he opened to the first page.

*October 1st. Sunny. They brought that child home today. He looks exactly like Arthur. Mom held him and cried, telling me he was our new beginning. I looked at him and felt nothing but a deep, bone-cold dread.*

*December 25th. Overcast. today is Christmas Day. Liam took me shopping. He told me to look forward. But how am I supposed to look forward? Behind me is nothing but a bottomless abyss.*

*March 15th. Rainy. I think I saw him again that monster. He was hiding inside that child's body, smiling at me. I told Mom. She slapped me and said I was losing my mind.*

Liam turned the pages one by one. His hands were shaking harder and harder.

His tears fell drop by drop onto the paper, bleeding into my handwriting and blurring the words.

When he reached the last page and read those words *"Sis, guess who my next target is?"* his whole body went rigid.

He sat there, frozen, like he'd been struck by lightning.

For a long time, he didn't move at all.

Then, all at once, he snapped the diary shut like it had burned him.

For the first time, doubt crossed his face.

Not doubt about me.

Doubt about the so-called "truth."

He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Hey, it's me. Liam. I need you to look into an illegal cloning experiment. Yeah. Whatever it costs."

---

### Chapter 3 ###

Liam took my diary and drove straight to my family's place.

My parents' house, I should say.

After my death, the place looked like nothing had happened at all.

My parents were watching TV in the living room. Arthur sat between them, peeling oranges for them like a perfect little child.

"Dad, have some orange."

"Mom, this one's sweet."

The picture of a happy family.

If you didn't know the truth, you'd never guess this family had just lost a daughter.

Liam's sudden arrival shattered that false warmth.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sterling." Liam's voice was ice cold.

My dad looked up and his expression darkened immediately. "What are you doing here?"

My mom looked uneasy, avoiding his eyes.

Liam ignored my dad's tone. He walked straight to the coffee table and slammed my diary down on it.

"I want to know if what's written in here is true."

My dad picked it up, glanced at one page, and threw it right back at Liam.

"Nonsense. That's all just delusions she made up in her head!"

"Delusions?" Liam let out a cold laugh. "Did Sophie tell you at her birthday party that Arthur threatened her?"

My parents' faces shifted at the same time.

My mom's lips trembled. She couldn't get a word out.

My dad stiffened and snapped, "You're going to believe a child's word for it? He's only ten years old what does he know? Sophie was the one with the psychological issues. She couldn't stand us caring about Arthur!"

"He doesn't know any better?" Liam pressed forward, not letting up. "But you do. How much did you pay? What channels did you go through to run this cloning experiment? Can you even say it out loud?"

Those words cut through every last layer of my parents' pretense like a blade.

My mom burst into tears.

"Liam, we didn't have a choice! He was our only son. When he died what is left for us to live for?"

"So you spent all your savings, went to some illegal clinic, and cloned a murderer?" Liam's voice was heavy with disappointment. "Did you ever think about how Sophie felt? and the victim's family member! How could you expect her to live with a brother who looks exactly like the man who killed them?"

"Why can't she just face it? We're family! Blood is thicker than water!" My dad still refused to back down.

"Family?" Liam looked at him like he was staring at a complete stranger. "In your eyes, what is Sophie, exactly? Just a tool you can sacrifice whenever you like?"

My dad had no answer to that.

Arthur, who hadn't said a word this whole time, suddenly jumped down from the couch.

He walked up to Liam and tugged at the hem of his jacket.

"Liam, Don't be mad at Mom and Dad," he said softly. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have teased Sophie. Did she die because of me?"

He tilted his head up, eyes brimming with tears, looking pitiful and innocent.

If I weren't already dead if I hadn't heard with my own ears what he'd said I might have fallen for it too.

Liam looked down at him, his expression unreadable.

My mom rushed over immediately, pulling Arthur behind her and snapping at Liam. "Look at what you're doing! You're scaring him half to death! He's just a child!"

"Is he, though?" Liam murmured.

He kept his eyes on Arthur, as if trying to see past the surface past the skin and the tears straight into whatever was underneath.

Arthur met his gaze without flinching. And in those eyes was a calm a composure far too old for his face and something else, Mockery.

Liam felt something sink in his chest.

He knew then. Everything I'd written in my diary was true.

This child was no blank slate.

He was the monster.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this." Liam dropped those words like a stone and walked out.

My dad shouted after him. "Liam! If you dare to hurt Arthur, and you'll regret it!"

Liam didn't look back.

I followed him out of that suffocating place I used to call home.

As I left, I looked back and saw Arthur flash my parents a wide, radiant smile.

And my parents looked back at him with pure adoration like he was the most precious thing in the world.

No one gave a second thought to the fact that their daughter had just died.

### Chapter 4 ###

Things developed worse than I ever expected.

My best friend, Evelyn a licensed therapist gave a media interview after my death.

"Sophie she always struggled with serious psychological issues."

On camera, Evelyn was dressed in impeccable business attire, her expression a mixture of grief and resignation.

"She had severe paranoia. She was convinced that Arthur the clone was going to hurt her. We all tried to persuade her, but she wouldn't listen."

"So in your view," the reporter asked, "Sophie's suicide stemmed from her own mental health issues, rather than external pressure?"

"To a large extent, yes." Evelyn nodded. "Her family gave her every bit of love and patience they had. But she could never move past the trauma. It's truly heartbreaking."

I hovered in front of the TV, watching the person I used to call my closest friend the one who was now rewriting my story to win favor with my parents, to get whatever "connections" she was after casually reduce me to a label.

Paranoia.

Mental illness.

So that's all I was to them. Just a crazy girl.

Liam saw the interview while he was at the precinct, pulling the old case files on Arthur.

He slammed his fist on the desk.

"Damn it."

He called Evelyn immediately. She didn't pick up.

The pressure from outside kept mounting.

Everyone seemed to agree that it was Liam's "obsession" and "meddling" that had blown the whole tragedy out of proportion.

Even his captain pulled him aside and told him to step back, to take some time to "cool off."

Liam was suspended.

But he didn't stop.

During the day, he stayed home and played the part of someone falling apart.

At night, he slipped out and made his way to my parents' neighborhood.

He was looking for proof. Something that would show the world what Arthur really was.

One Saturday evening, my parents took Arthur to a dinner party.

Liam used the opportunity to sneak into their house.

He went straight upstairs to Arthur's room.

Arthur's room was decorated like a prince of a fairy tale.

Blue walls, a large nautical-themed bunk bed, and bookshelves packed with children's books and model ships.

Everything looked perfectly normal.

Liam wasn't satisfied. He started searching carefully.

On the bottom shelf, hidden behind a stack of seemingly harmless comic books, he found a sketchbook.

The cover had a smiley face drawn on it.

Liam opened to the first page.

It showed a little girl in a princess dress, a knife plunged through her chest.

The blood was drawn big and bright red.

Liam's heart clenched. He kept flipping through.

Page two, page three each one was more of the same.

A schoolgirl in uniform, dragged away on a rainy night.

A woman in a white-collar work outfit, hands wrapped around her throat in an elevator.

The victims in the drawings their hairstyles, their clothing bore a striking resemblance to the girls Arthur had killed all those years ago.

And in the bottom right corner of every single drawing, written in a child's unsteady hand, was one name.

Arthur.

The last page of the sketchbook was a blank frame.

Beneath it, a single line of text.

*"Who's next?"*

Liam's hands trembled as he held the sketchbook, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

This wasn't the kind of doodle a ten-year-old should be making.

This was a crime announcement straight from hell.

Just then, the sound of a car engine drifted up from outside.

My parents were home.

Liam immediately shoved the sketchbook inside his jacket, climbed out through the window, and disappeared into the night.