It was done. It was over, that rush of dopamine, the feeling of adrenaline coarsing through his veins, it had washed over. Brandon paused, his nose wrinkling in disgust as David let out a muffled, gargling sound as the rope tightened around his neck.

He hadn't left a single fingerprint, neither had Kenneth. The perfect murder, commited by the perfect pair. In a rush of passion and euphoria, he kissed Kenneth.

Carefully, he dropped David's body into the dark hazel trunk at his feet, letting Kenneth push the lump, lifeless body of their former friend into a trunk as they chucked a tablecloth over it.

And that wasn't all. They were hosting a part that night, in the same room that David's dead body was in. Simply for the thrill of it, and honestly? Neither Kenneth nor Brandon felt a smidge of guilt or shame for the act they had just commited.

They thought that they were superior, that since they were intellectuals, far more privileged than anyone else, they'd get away with one of the most heinous crimes imaginable; murder.

They had four hours to set up for the party. And oh, those four hours would be amazing. Those four hours would be full of planning, passion, and celebration. They had done it.

Wordlessly, Brandon lit a cigarette, pursing it in-between his lips. He slipped off his red, leather gloves, it was good he wore those, it meant there'd be no fingerprints. He felt like a genius.

He smoothed out his suit; a dark, royal blue one with a matching tie. His hair was combed meticulously, each individual hair styled to perfection.

Brandon smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. He glanced over at Kenneth.

"Oh, Kenneth, my dear." he said, taking a drag from his cigarette. "How do you feel? How did it feel? When his body went limp, I just felt this rush, you know? This.."

Brandon stopped himself. "The power to create life can feel just as great as being able to take it. Imagine them all, at the party, not knowing there's a body in the room with them." Brandon smiled, smugly.

"Simply titillating, Kenneth."