Brian stood in his bathroom, trying to wash the blood off of his hands. He scrubbed his palms, fingertips, under his nails, the backs of his hands until the skin was red and raw, and then he would scrub them again. Something had taken over, the old Brian Kinney sitting somewhere in the recesses of his mind. Brian looked the same. He walked, talked, and acted the same...

But looks can be deceiving.

Somewhere behind the same brown eyes that used to be damningly expressionate no matter his behaviour lurked something brand new... something not so amicable to say the very least. As Brian finally dried his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror, jumping at the new reflection behind him.

"Look, are we going to fuck, or can I just go and find someone else?"

Young. Blond. Blue eyed and rather sassy. Brian stared into the eyes of a man he perceived to be Justin. He remembered somewhere in the back of his mind that it was not Justin, but every one of his other senses told him that it was. Brian's hands trembled as he stormed toward the young man and pushed him back onto the bed. He tore the top of a condom wrapper off with his teeth, spit it out, and put it on.

With out a second's hesitation, he entered the young man, finding immediately that this was his trick's very.

First.

Time.

The blond man let out a pained squeal and scratched at the sheets trying to get away. Brian immediately pulled out, his expression that of a provoked animal at best.

Before whatever was left of Brian could stop whatever had taken over, he had grabbed the young man and pinned him down. He reached to his left and grabbed from his bedside table an ashtray. He raised his arm in the air and brought down the ashtray against the young man's head, the cries of fear and panic stopped abruptly. Again and again he brought down the ashtray until the force of the blows broke it in two.

The inside edges of each half were sharp, much to Brian's delight, and he pressed the flat, broken edge of the ashtray vertically to the young man's throat, and with likely unneeded pressure began to drag downward and incise his flesh. Brian's breathing became measured, almost as though abated by the sight of love. The young man's blood began to flow, slowly but surely across his bare chest and over Brian's fingertips.

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the dying young man's lips as he further dragged the implement downward along his torso. The young man, though in shock, gasped as Brian dipped his fingertips into the now gaping open wound. A pleasured shudder came over Brian as the familiar warmth enveloped his fingers.

He pulled away from the wound until the severed, raw, aching nerve endings could feel only the heat radiating from Brian's fingers. He gently traced the wound, once again dipping them in where the wound ended, directly above the genitalia. The young man still lived. His chest rose and fell beneath Brian's palm, which still rested, pressing flatly alongside the young man's exposed sternum.

Death came slowly to the young man, his body twitching, pulsing with each touch from Brian's fingertips. Rather loudly, he began to gurgle, for in the reaper's most cruel form of jocularity, the young man began to slip out of shock, feeling, seeing, and knowing everything that was happening as clear as day. Through the gurgling, he began to form words.

"Pl...ease... Plea...se?"

Brian recoiled rather sharply, falling back off of the bed. His hands were covered in the young man's blood to the wrists. The young man sat up, the wound now gaping. From where Brian sat, he could see clearly, the beating heart behind his ribcage. The young man stood, his intestines falling to his feet at the foot of Brian's bed.

Brian groaned in horror and tried to back away, stopped by the divider between his room and the rest of the loft. The young man fell to the hardwood floor face first, stone dead. It took until just then for Brian to notice the stark white strip of skull peeking through the blunt force wound he had caused on the side of the young man's head.

The longer Brian looked at the mess he had made of a human being, the more rapidly his normal identity came forward, and soon, there was the Brian Kinney, staring at his new undertaking. He quite abruptly turned and vomited on the steps leading up to his room. His gaze snapped directly ahead as heard the door to the loft roll gradually open.