My ex-housemate was potentially a serial killer...

So, a little back story to explain:<br><br>My ex and I moved into a new house together after our last shared flat ended in a blink-and-you’ll-miss it police raid and one of our housemates getting carted off for breaking and entering. Which was a bit of an eye-opening experience, so when we moved into our new place, we were super careful about who we moved in with. Our two housemates were friends of friends, and we were all aware of each others’ history. Or so we thought. <br><br>Matty was our main housemate, the male one, and lived in the bedroom next to ours. He was a really quiet guy, always kept to himself. I would later find out that he was this way because he had suffered a very traumatic event in his life, and as part of his therapy he had decided to move miles away from his hometown. <br><br>The first weird thing about Matty that I discovered happened one night when my ex and I were in our room having a smoke. I was sitting on the windowsill, and I could see clearly into Matty’s room. The funny thing was, Matty was sat on his windowsill too. Still as anything. Just looking out into the night. It was weird, and it freaked me out a little bit, but not much. I thought little of it until my ex was out one weekend and Matty and I were taking care of the house on our own.<br><br>I had woken up to get a drink, and I saw Matty in the kitchen, just... sat on the counter, staring into space. I assumed he was high, so I ignored him and went back to bed. The next morning, I woke up to a plethora of missing posters on my door, stuck to the windows, even slid under my door. I was confused, so I went to ask Matty if he knew anything about it. I found him in the living room, sat on the settee, staring off into space. I called his name a few times before he looked at me, and I could almost see him “wake up”. He looked at me, confused, before I asked again about the posters.<br><br>He said, “Oh, yeah, I made them last night”. I asked who they were for, and he just shrugged and said, “Nothing in particular. I was just feeling a little stressed so I wrote them to calm myself down”. I asked him if he felt better, and he said yes, but he would feel even better if he found who he was looking for. My red flags started flying, but he was so nonchalant about it, there was no malice in his voice. I went back to bed, forgetting about it, and when my ex came home I didn’t mention it. <br><br>Fast forward a few weeks, my ex and I go away for another weekend. When we come home, Matty and the other housemate are gone. The house is spotless, and there’s a note from Matty saying he’s sorry, but he has to go home. He apologises for any stress he has caused, and wishes us good luck in life. That was it. <br><br>When we got good wifi, my ex decided to do a deep google of Matty. And... well, you should never do that to someone you know, because you will always find out something you didn’t want to know. <br><br>Several missing persons reports from Matty’s hometown, all young girls around Matty’s age. All of who are still missing, and some of whom have never been found. Matty’s mother was quoted as saying she was glad her son had got away, because “where he is now, he can’t hurt anyone”.<br><br>That sent chills down my spine. I didn’t want to believe it. But the funny thing is, the way they phrased it, it didn’t sound like they were being defensive. It sounded like they were being factual. <br><br>Further digging led us to one case in particular that stood out. A young girl, about 17, who had gone missing from Matty’s school. She was one of the ones never found. But the only clue was a torn piece of school uniform caught in a bush near a lake, and eye witness testimony of a boy who matched Matty’s description in the area around the time she went missing. But no one could prove it was him. And I really, really, REALLY hope it wasn’t him. <br><br>I hope Matty isn’t out there right now, trawling through young girls’ social media looking for his next victim. <br><br>And, Matty, if you ever see this, please don’t contact me. I don’t want to be your next Jane Doe.