It was perfect when it started, made it not so perfect suddenly. They were just a small group of college kids, sleeping in the many different rooms of the house of Feliciano Vargas. The young Italian, only 19, had inherited a bunch of money when his movie star grandpa had died. He also inherited the house that he was now living in, an art major in university.

He had invited a group of people over for spring break. His friends, 18-year-old Ludwig Beilschmidt, 20-year-old Kiku Honda, 18-year-old Belgian student Manon Vermeulen, 22-year-old Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, 22-year-old Francis Bonnefoy, Ludwig's older brother Gilbert, also 22, their cousin, 22-year-old Roderich and his girlfriend, Erzsébet, who was 20. Finally, there was Feliciano's older brother, 23-year-old Lovino Vargas and Feliciano's girlfriend, Ludwig's twin sister 18-year-old Louise, a pretty girl with an athletic frame and short blonde hair.

It was just an usual outing, a usual time with friends, nothing too different than most kids would act at their ages. Feliciano was making pasta for the group while Antonio helped chop tomatoes for the sauce. Normally, Lovino would do it, but he was pouting in the corner, grumbling about something while eating his own tomato. Another he had slipped into his bag, apparently for later. No one bat an eye. He was obsessed with the fruit to the point he'd once wrote a song about them when he was drunk. And tried to marry one. Also drunk. And once Antonio had kissed him and Lovino told him that he was a "rotten perverted tomato that tasted like shit." Lovino was sober that time.

Francis was flirting with Manon who was ignoring him with a roll of the eyes. She'd seen him flirt with everyone, from Antonio to the caterpillar-browed policeman with the scruffy blond hair. That had been embarrassing. He was drinking a glass of wine, taking sips out of it classily and pompous.

Gilbert had his head resting casually in Louise's lap, the German girl clearly uncomfortable being a pillow for her brother. Ludwig was next to them, reading a book. He stared at the pages with concentration, seemingly ignoring his siblings. Roderich wasn't too far from them, playing the piano that Feliciano kept in the dining room.

Antonio mumbled something to Feliciano, and the two looked in the direction that Lovino was sitting. They both smiled as if they had some shared secret as they finished with the pasta. Lovino had rolled his eyes. Those two were stupid.

Lovino took a seat next to Gilbert as the group sat down, earning some odd looks. Germans usually pissed him off just from looking at them, but he seemed okay next to him. Maybe it was just his brother. The Italian had a pen in one hand and started drawing on the table, no concern for the fact that it was his grandfather's long before it was ever Feli's.

The group had eaten, jokes being passed around the table. Feliciano's smile and Antonio's grin having an affectious effect on some of the others. Lovino scowled at the table where he had just drawn a dick. For the 1000th time. Feliciano kept scrubbing his beautiful drawings off the table whenever he left, even before the little shit had moved in. Ain't like their Nonno didn't deserve it.

Roderich and the two German twins were less smiley, all looking stern. Gilbert, however, smiled and complimented Lovino on his detailed drawing of genitalia, though he seemed a bit awkward as he said it, a blush across his face. Lovino wondered why the hell or how the hell he ever managed to become friends with dumbass perv one (Francis) and dumbass perv two (Antonio).

The group had joked around with each other, Gilbert at one point started teasing Roderich and Erzsébet threatened to hit him with a frying pan, a situation that Ludwig had to diffuse. Nothing seemed to be wrong with Feliciano. Nothing.

I screamed, managing to wake the entire house up from the rooms that they were in. Louise had taken the master bedroom, Feliciano's room so they could share, which I thought was fucking stupid as their relationship….. well, they didn't live together, Louise and her brother's all lived in Gilbert's apartment that he paid for with the money he got from his hours at the pet store.

The room next to that was the one that I claimed. It had a pair of twin beds so Manon slept in there with me. Across from me was the stupid potato bastard's room. His brother, Antonio, and Francis shared the one next to it.

All those people plus the others who had rooms farther away or upstairs that they had claimed for the night had come running. By this point, I had fallen to the ground on my knees, staring at the body, my face conveying pure shock and despair. Felicano, my little brother, was laying lifeless on the floor of the kitchen, pale as a sheet, his eyes open and frozen.

Antonio and Gilbert helped me up and a part of me realised that I was supposed to be fighting them. I squirmed out of their arms and tried to run to him, but then the stupid potato grabbed me. I struggled, but eventually had to give up. "What the fucking hell happened to my brother!" I yelled, beginning to hit him. He sighed. It was only then that I realised that the dumbass was crying. A pang of guilt hit me when I remembered that Feliciano and him…. Oh, shut up, I told that feeling.

Louise had called the cops. They arrived along with an ambulance. I continued to cry. Gilbert rubbed one of my arms, his own tears falling down his face. "What happened?" I asked the officer nearest me. He looked at me with pity. I didn't care. I pitied him more for his eyebrows and the fact that the wine bastard was always harassing him.

Arthur Kirkland wasn't the best cop. He was engaged to his partner on the job, Officer Jones, but I pretty damn sure he was banging Francis on the side, if what I'd walked in on once was any indication. Arthur sighed. "We aren't sure yet. It's not really visible. I'll let you know." He gave me a polite smile, but I didn't really care for chivalries. And I knew that Officer Kirkland didn't either, even if he liked to pretend otherwise.

"However, if fowl play is involved, we will have to interview every one of you and for your own safety, I'm going to need to ask all of you to remain here until we get the toxicity screens back. Protocol." I nodded, though I didn't want to stay here. At all. Dammit, I hated this house. Had long before Grandpa's death and hated it even more now.

The toxicity screenings had come back positive for cyanide and Feliciano's body, from what I had heard, was coloured the shade of red that poison victims normally became after death. At the time I had cried. I asked "Who would do this to my brother," a sob coming out of my mouth. I let the tomato perv hold me, letting myself cry in his shoulder. I glanced over it at Gilbert.

Everyone took it hard. We had grown up next door to the Beilschmidt's and Roderich's parents had taken care of Feliciano as a kid before our parent's died. They never liked me much, probably why Antonio's mom, Maria Carriedo, had to offer to watch me if I needed a babysitter.

Everyone had always loved Feliciano more than me. I had spent years fuming about it all, screaming in rage and jealously in my bedroom at night long after I moved out. I had never thought it was fair, had hated my brother for it.

And now he was dead.

Ludwig was the first person that they questioned. Followed by Louise. I wondered if they'd told the cops the truth. That the potato bastard was the one who was banging Feli and Louise had never once touched him. Probably not, I thought bitterly. They wouldn't even tell their friends even if they knew that they were fine with it. They were fine with Antonio. With Gilbert. With the stupid wine bastard, Francis. With me.

I glanced at the spot on the ground that my brother's body had been laying just a few short days before that. Antonio clasped his hand around my shoulder. I flinched and pulled away from the dumbass.

Antonio frowned. I told myself I could care less. He was an idiot. Roderich was the next to be questioned. Arthur frowned at me as he re-entered the room. My heart jumped in my chest and I searced for Gilbert. He nodded at me understandingly.

He asked for me, Arthur did, and I sighed as I was ushered into the room that they were using to take our private statements, probably to turn us against each other and make us spill. Ha, good luck with that, dumbass. Only one of these other idiots know a thing, that I was sure of.

And they'd never spill.

My brother's death would end up another cold case if nothing turned up. A thought occurred in the back of my mind, reminding me they would search the rooms for traces of cyanide and for the weapon of choice.

Arthur led me to the room where his partner, Alfred Jones, was sitting. Clearly, the American was oblivious to the obvious affair going on between Francis and his partner and I wondered idly if the two should even be on this case considering it clearly was too close to home with the two what with one of their lover's being one of the suspects. Ha. Even if it had been Francis, Scone Breath would probably find a way to get him off, regardless of the glares he shot at him as he handcuffed him. Asshole.

"State your name for the record." Scone Breath said with a yawn that suggested that he clearly hadn't had his morning tea yet. That or he was spiting Alfred for some lover's spat they'd had. Not my business.

"Lovino Vargas." I said, looking down at my nails with disinterest, probably looking like a teenage girl sassing her parents. Oh well. Not my problem.

"Relation to the victim." The dumbass said, even though they both already knew. Seriously? Hell, I would be a better cop than these two idiotas.

"He is—was—my little brother." I said, choking up a bit. I was still annoyed by their stupidity, but I didn't want to take my chances on how stupid.

Alfred nodded, a sympathetic look in his eyes. Dumbass didn't even notice his own brother, a sophomore in university and our best hockey star. I felt bile run up my throat and rage filling my chest. What a dick, pretending he knows what it was like when he wouldn't even give a shit whatever happened to his sibling either way.

Arthur just nodded, clearing trying to be professional, though that asshat wasn't much better. He had three older brothers that everyone from our town knew he never wanted to talk about. Or see, for that matter.

I was dealing with idiots, that was plain to see.

They'd never solve my brother's murder.

"How are you, Lovino." Scone Breath asked, his face passive as he spoke, revealing nothing.

"The fuck kind of question is that?" I asked, staring at him like he was nuts. "Someone just killed my little brother and you want to ask me if I'm okay?" I screamed. Maybe I went a little too big on the theatrics, if how I knocked Officer Jones' damn soda off the table in my anger was any indication.

Alfred—damn burger idiot—looked at his cup with shock, a forlorn look in his eyes as he looked at the wasted drink. Arthur looked like he was trying to stay professional and not laugh. And shit, were those tears in the fucklard's eyes? I wanted to roll my own. I felt no sympathy for the idiot. Hell, if this story got relayed to his brother Matthew would laugh his ass off.

"Vargas, I'm going to have to restrain you if you act out like that again." Arthur said, a disapproving look trying to show on his features even though his eyes were bright with mirth and humour. I doubted that either of them even knew how to use their own handcuffs.

"Oh really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur scoffed. "Alright, who do you think would have had a grudge against your brother?" He asked.

I pretended to think about it. "Ludwig." I said. They raised their eyebrows. "Me and Gilbert… we both came out around the same time and my grandpa and his father both disowned us. Gilbert had a few scholarships and a part-time job, plus some financial aid. Gilbert was the valedictorian of his class. He was able to start university on time to work on his forensic science degree. Me…. Well, I didn't. Grandpa was rich, I didn't need to. Grandpa took me out of the will entirely, and I had to find a job straight out of high school to get the money. It's why I'm only a sophomore when I should have my degree already. Feliciano… well, he learned from us. Only told a select few about their relationship, Feliciano found a fake girlfriend. After Grandpa's death my brother didn't tell anyone else either, kept dating her. Don't think the bastard took it very well."

"You're free to go." Alfred said. Arthur kept looking at me oddly, but nodded as well, seeming a bit reluctant. Alfred followed me out and hurried to stop me from leaving. My heartbeat raced, though I tried not to panic.

"What is it, Officer?" I asked, trying to keep my cool.

"Don't worry." He said. "I'll make sure whoever did this will have justice served to them." He looked at me, his eyes already triumphant despite the fact that they were clearly too stupid to even put pants on in the morning, let alone solve a case. And 'justice served to them?' This was real life, not a damn Avengers movie! He took a last regretful look at his fallen drink before leaving. Dumbass.

Kiku was next, followed by all the others. I hated staying in this house. It reeked of Grandpa and Feliciano. But I had to, until they had solved this. Or until they thought that they solved this. I sat down beside Gilbert and Antonio.

The tomato idiot looked at me. "Lovi…." He said, throwing an arm around my shoulder. The dork on my other side growled at him. I sighed. "I thought maybe once this is over, we could maybe…"

I glared at him, cutting him off from whatever he was saying. "You fucking bastard! My brother's dead and all you can think about is your fucking dick!" Apparently I started cussing him out in Italian without realising it because after a few more choice words everyone else looked at me like I had grown a few more heads. It was probably stupid to assume that the idiot was asking me on a date, but after all his smiles from the day before and secret looks could anyone really blame me?

He looked confused. "I…. was just going to ask if you wanted to help my mama with her tomato garden…." He said, a concerned look on his face. "You've been so stressed out because of school, and now this…." He looked down, tears on his face. I just sighed. Gilbert shrugged.

Scone Breath and Burger Brains talked for a bit. I noticed them look in several directions. Mine, Antonio's, Ludwig's, Gilbert's, Louise's. The others didn't get so many, though I knew everyone was a suspect. And anyone could of done it. Feli was rich as hell. A shiver went through me when I realised that I was the next of kin, the only family Feliciano had that was still alive. It hadn't occurred to me, honestly. I wasn't sure what to think about that. I didn't necessarily want it either, but at the same token, a part of me did. Would be nice to afford a house, or at least my fucking education, but I don't even fucking want Grandpa's money. Feliciano's money. Whoever's money.

"Any luck, Officers." Ludwig finally asked. The other's turned to them while I just looked at Gilbert. He shrugged.

Arthur turned to us and shook his head. "Inclusive." He glanced at me. "I'm going to need to search the house."

"Of course." I replied, my tone a bit too sweet for my liking. He walked off with Alfred to check all the bedrooms and I just sat back and curled up on the couch. Antonio gave my shoulder some rubs, apparently oblivious to the way I tensed when he touched me.

Arthur and Alfred returned about fifteen minutes later, much too early to have checked a mansion. "Who's room was the first one on the right down this hallway?"

"Gilbert's and mine. We shared." Ludwig said, looking concerned.

Arthur held out a syringe, eyes emotionless. "It was on the floor, carelessly dropped." That sounded odd, and I knew that the other's clearly thought so as well. Neither Gilbert nor the potato bastard were big on messes.

Gilbert turned to his brother in confusion. Ludwig stared back with the same expression. "Oh, fucking hell!" I yelled. "One of you assholes killed my brother!" If it wasn't for Antonio holding me back I'm sure I would have made a big scene and punched the potato bastard's face.

"Mr. Vargas, you need to calm down." Arthur said, apparently more professional now. I glanced at him with a frown. "Now, which one of you did this?" His gaze that had been on me earlier was now on the potato bastard.

I stayed quiet for a bit. "Well, cyanide's a poison." I said. "Who did my brother trust more?" Everyone turned to Ludwig, even those that didn't know. Gilbert was older. Ludwig was his best friend in their eyes, more than that in mine. Well, he was the bane of my existence for the most part, but I think most would get what I mean.

Kiku spoke up suddenly. I'd completely forgotten he had even existed. "Well, Feliciano-kun would never refuse food from any one. He trusts everything." Damn Japanese kid. He's right. Unfortunately.

Roderich was quiet, a conflicted look on his face. "Gilbert didn't even sleep in that room. He snuck out after Ludwig had fallen asleep and crashed in mine." His girlfriend nodded and started to tear up.

"When was that?" Arthur's eyes were wide. Apparently this was the first case his tiny brain had ever believed it had solved. Alfred's too, because he smiled. Damn idiot had always had a hero complex in high school, hadn't he? Well, good for him getting what he wanted in life. It didn't always work out like that.

"Around ten."

"Feliciano died approximately 8 hours before we showed up. Cyanide is a pretty fast acting potion" Arthur said. "It would have been about 1 in the morning." Ludwig looked around at us, eyes filled with betrayal and confusion. I smirked. I never did like him.

But it wasn't him. We all somehow got roped into staying in the house one more day. We hadn't been allowed into the kitchen since Feliciano's death because it was a crime scene so we'd been getting take-out and pizzas. American pizza is shit. Their school system is shit. I wish Grandpa hadn't moved us to America after my parents had died when I was four and Feliciano was a baby. I'd visited Italy ever summer until I was 16 and I'd rather live there. Maybe I could use Grandpa's money for that…. No, I wouldn't touch that crapola. I didn't care about the damn money.

Louise's body was hard to miss. She was passed out on the couch, but not actually passed out. Dead. Clearly from cyanide. Ludwig was released that morning. Whether he was framed or was just an accomplice Alfred and Arthur couldn't discern, but they had no cause to keep him there now. And of course I still couldn't leave this fucking house I hated so much, Too many memories.

School had returned today, but I couldn't go to my first week of classes because of this lockdown. Our professors were supposed to send us all audio versions of the lectures we'd missed. Whether they actually would…. Who the hell knew?

No one was sure anymore who had done it. A few people looked at Gilbert suspiciously. Other's at Roderich. Hell, for all any of them knew it was some suicide pact. I didn't dare suggest the idea that the two decided to commit suicide. No one would believe or consider that one, not even me. I didn't think my brother had been unhappy. Ever.

Ludwig himself was the next one. I got the looks sent my way again for that one, even though I knew for sure that there was no way that I had killed the potato idiot, even if I may have disliked him. Almost got arrested for it just on the grounds that the only person who hated him verbally was me, but then they found a collection of cyanide pills in Roderich's room. That was clearly a shocker. He really didn't seem to have much of a motive outside of the money that he wasn't getting.

I didn't care. I knew it wasn't Roderich. How could they assume it was him after someone had framed the potato bastard the first time? It just fuelled my belief that Arthur and Alfred wore incompetent cops. Well, Alfred I could understand. He was American. They were incompetent at everything.

Of course, I said nothing. I just glared at the piano ass as they led him away. Never liked him much, anyway. I glanced to Francis who was watching Arthur's ass and then to Gilbert. He shrugged and then shook his head as if he had thought of something as he looked at Arthur.

As soon as we were told that we could leave, Antonio threw an arm around my shoulder. "Lovi, you should probably spend the night at my house afterwards. You know, to protect you." Feliciano's funeral was that day, according to the people who had placed themselves in charge of my brother's affairs. One of which was putting the money into my account.

I sighed, deciding that the dumbass wasn't going to take the word no for an answer. "Whatever idiot." I looked at Gilbert, hoping he understood the meaning in my eyes. He nodded, a smirk on his face.

I cried throughout the funeral, a tearful Antonio on one side of me. I reluctantly let him comfort me. Whatever I had to do to appease his stupid ass. It was ridiculous because I had already agreed to go home with this idiot instead of back to my apartment where I would much rather be. I thought about leaving early. I really wasn't in the mood to stay here, with all things considered. And no one would blame me for walking out. He was my brother, and the damn priest was pissing me off more than Antonio was.

Gilbert tightened his old on my other side, as if sensing my thoughts. I sighed, deciding that I would be forced to listen to this dumb pastor go on and on about religion—I had long renounced my Catholic Faith, not too long after Grandpa's death actually—because no one was letting me leave who was next to me. If only I could just slide past this damn pew, I could leave right now!

Needless to say, I was forced to stay the whole time. The boring procession was the worst part of it all. I glanced at Gilbert as everyone was about to leave the cemetery. He nodded to me but before I could say anything to him Antonio's hand clamped down on my shoulder so he could hug me. I didn't respond. "Come on Lovi, let's go home." He said, too cheerfully. I narrowed my eyes at him, but followed behind.

Antonio still lived with his parents, though they had been off doing their own vacation for the week of spring break and still had yet to return. Likely, they had gone to Spain to visit some relatives. I still wasn't sure why this idiot wanted me to come home with him, but just the knowledge—which was kept from me until we arrived—was enough to make my chest rise in suspicion. What was this dumbass planning? It was the only way to get him off my back, however, so of course I entered the house, preparing to have to "stay with him."

Antonio handed me some wine that they had in their house, and I was hesitant to encourage the drinking considering the last time I had been with him while he was intoxicated. However, it was just a little wine, almost nothing alcoholic in it. I took a sip of it, casually. He watched me, before taking a sip of his own.

I followed him to his couch, where he put on a random show. I figured it was his way of getting my mind of things, but the Spanish soap opera that he threw on was unbearable even if I could understand what they were saying. Unfortunately, I could understand enough of the dialogue—Italian wasn't too different and I'd been around this dumbass since I was a kid—that it bored the shit out of me. Would've been at least slightly better if I could make up my own ideas of what they were saying. Probably would have been a better version, too.

He had shut off the show around suppertime, though I had long stopped watching during what I would assume to be the first episode. I focused more on making plans in my head, plans that I had already formed before Feliciano's death, but was double-checking now. They were really just a precautionary plan, but I knew that it would have to do now.

Of course, dinner was some Spanish homecooked meal I pretended to hate to keep appearances. I hate this bastard. Liking his food invites some things that I don't want him to think. Like the idea that I like him. He kisses me whenever he's plastered. He must think so.

He yawned. It was late, we had gone back to watching T-V on his parent's flat screen, which wasn't much smaller than Grandpa's had been before Feliciano had broken it last month. I still wasn't sure how he had managed that one, he was crying too hard at the time for me to understand. I felt an arm slide around my shoulders. I tensed, though I let him, my eyes flitting to the window.

Suddenly, my phone went off, signalling that I had a text from someone. I glanced at it, trying not to look too interested in it despite that the fact that it had given me an actual reason to pull away. I pretended that the text was an actual phone call, making a few "yes's" and "no's" to seem inconspicuous.

I felt Antonio's arms slide around my waist and I made a big show in dramatically sighing as I reluctantly leaned back into the arms that were holding me. He brushed his lips against the back of my neck and I spun around, deciding to give in. It wouldn't last long anyway. I kissed him, hard, pulling him towards his bedroom, trying to seem as eager as I was pretending to feel.

I pulled him on to the bed, letting him lay on top of me as our lips meshed together. His tasted awful, but I reminded myself that it would be over soon. "Dios, Lovi." He mumbled, kissing my neck softly before going back to my lips. I let him do that for a bit until he attempted to yank my shirt off. I smirked and pulled my head slightly away, flipping us skilfully until I was on top. He looked at me, probably trying to figure out what the hell I was doing with the potato-shaped brain he had. By potato-shaped I clearly meant mashed potatoes. Dammit, how someone who ate so many tomatoes had the intelligence of a potato fucker I wasn't sure. I just sneered at him, my mind gleeful as I reached up to press a finger to his lips teasingly. I rolled off of him and opened his bedroom window. The person who was waiting below it smiled up at me.

"Gil?" Antonio said in confusion as he climbed through. He looked at me, eyes and face pouting that I cut his fun off too early. Gilbert didn't seem to notice as he tossed the Spaniard a tomato that he took a bite out of all too quickly, practically consuming the whole thing in only a few seconds. Not that I could judge when it came to that sweet, irresistible, fruit. He tossed me one as well, though I just raised an eyebrow and set it aside. Antonio spoke. "Huh. Tastes a bit more like almonds than a tomato."

I kissed Gilbert with all I had. "Geez, Lovi. I can practically taste Antonio on you." He mumbled. "So not awesome."

Antonio looked at us in betrayal. I just glanced back with a chuckle. "I kept telling you I never had feelings for you, ya dumbass!" I snapped at him as Gilbert attacked my neck, pressing sweet kisses over the same spots that Antonio's had just felt.

Antonio began gasping for air. "Lovi. C-call 9-11. Can't breathe." He said between gasps.

I glanced down at the discarded tomato. His eyes followed. I just smiled. "Well, dumbass." I said. "That's what cyanide does to you."

Antonio looked at me and Gilbert in confusion. "W-why?"

"Grandpa disowned me for being gay. For liking men. Gilbert's father shunned him for the same thing."

Gilbert chuckled darkly. "He was ashamed of me. Fucking gay albino son. Didn't matter how smart I was, I was always destined to do bad."

"Funny thing is…" I said. "I didn't care about the money, exactly. In fact, I'm only planning to use enough of it to fly out to Europe with this idiot before they find your, cold, dead body. Then it doesn't matter to me anymore. But Feliciano…. Grandpa's perfect angel. Got everything he wanted."

"Funny thing…. I wasn't even going to kill you originally." Gilbert said. "Like I did with my siblings. The plan was for Lovino to wait for Feliciano to get his midnight snack that Lovino had put some of the liquid cyanide in, blame precious Ludwig, kill Louise, blame Ludwig and Roderich. Lovino thought about offing Francis too, but I didn't want to kill someone close to Officer Kirkland. Didn't think that would benefit any of us." Gilbert chuckled. I felt like we were in a movie where the villain monolouged too long and was consequently captured, but I was too giddy too care.

I spoke. "How Dumbass One and Dumbass Two decided that he was being framed was beyond me. For all they know the two bastards were working together. Our original plan. Get rid of all our perfect family members. But that veered off. So guess what? I figured I may as well pretend to give a shit about you, just so I can watch you fall. Asshole."

Antonio was barely conscious now. He'd be dead in a few minutes. I kicked him sadistically as I wrestled Gilbert's shirt off. "Let's fuck." I said. "Right here. Mark this as our doing." I nibbled on one of his nipples encouragingly.

He pet my hair softly as he started to remove my clothes, sliding over me to claim me as his once and for all, and no one else's. We had all the time in the world before anyone noticed the asshole's body. Before anyone noticed that we had long left. Before they checked the DNA sure to be left over and realised it was us. We could be all the way to Italy before they knew a thing.

Let the cat-and-mouse game begin.

So, originally I was thinking about using Arsenic as the poison and then I realised that you can't really inject that into tomatoes too well. And I did some research on other fast-acting (had to be fast-acting so they can't notice) poisons. Cyanide does have a liquid form, interestingly. According to the internet, at least. Cyanide can kill you in seconds if you inhale cyanide gas, but 15 min-60 min if injected. Cyanide has an almond flavour to it and cyanide gas is also called cyanide prussic acid, and is PRUSSIAN BLUE in pigment. Therefore, it was the perfect weapon for Gilbert, a forensic scientist major.