A week had passed since Marcel had taken the life of his first victim.

Austin’s death had been a topic on the CDG message board and Marcel bragged about how Austin had been a member of his gym and how his body was amazing. However, he stopped short of bragging or going into too much detail about what he knew on the message board.

However, in the private chat he was having with Crazydoc77 things were different as he felt he could open up to the user as the two-role played and fantasied about how they would have killed Austin with Marcel playing the death out over and over in his head and fantasy.

It was the day of Austin’s funeral and Marcel decided to pay his final respects to the hot gym alpha.

Marcel sat in the back of the room, watching as the mourners filed in one by one. He had never been to a funeral before, let alone the funeral of someone he had killed, especially his first murder victim. Austin was a young man, nineteen years old and with his whole life ahead of him. And Marcel had taken that life away.

Now, as he sat in the back of the funeral home, surrounded by grieving friends and family, Marcel couldn’t help but feel like an impostor. He knew ne didn’t belong there. He had no right to mourn the loss of Austin, especially with the young man’s loss being a celebration for him.

As the service began, Marcel watched with a heavy heart as Austin’s friends and family spoke of him. They talked about his kind heart, his infectious smile, and the way he lit up a room. They talked about the future he would never have, the milestones he would never reach. He giggled to himself that no one mentioned how much of an arrogant arsehole Marcel was and the gym was now a better place without him.

As he watched the casket being lowered into the grave, he wondered how long it would take for Austin’s fine body to decompose. With the funeral over he left and headed off to grab a spot of lunch.

Marcel was sitting at a small table in the outdoor section of a café, enjoying his lunch on a beautiful summer day and scanning any passer-by to see if they were suitable victim material. The sun was shining, and there was a light breeze blowing through his hair. He had just taken a bite of his sandwich when he noticed a young man walking across the street towards the café.

The young man was of medium height and had an attractive athletic body, with curly brown hair. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his skin was tanned and golden from the sun. He was dressed in a pair of bright pink shorts, and he was carrying a football under one arm. Ace was Marcel’s type and real victim material and one that our killer would be keeping a close eye on .

As the young man got closer, Marcel noticed that he had a confident swagger to his step. He walked with purpose, like he knew exactly where he was going and what he was doing. Marcel couldn’t help but admire the young man’s confidence, even though he was dressed in such a bold ensemble.

Ace walked past the café, and Marcel watched as he disappeared down the street. For a moment, he thought that was the end of it, but then he noticed Ace coming back towards the café, now carrying a bottle of water and a slice of pizza.

As Ace got closer, Marcel saw that he had a mischievous glint in his eye and a mischievous grin on his face. He paused and held both his arms out as he shouted, “Hey Mark, don’t forget I’ll catch you at Scences tonight.”

Mark yelled back and Ace replied “You got it bro.”

He then walked straight up to Marcel’s table, plopped down on the chair next to him, and said, “Hey, man, what’s up?”

Marcel was taken aback by the sudden intrusion but decided to play it cool. “Not much. Just enjoying my lunch. How about you?”

Ace shrugged. “Same here. It’s too nice a day to be cooped up inside, you know? Plus, I had to show off my awesome pink shorts.” He held out one of his legs, showing off the bright fabric. Marcel took the time to survey the fine limb and noticed Ace had a tattoo of a Wolf’s head decorating his right thigh.

Marcel couldn’t help but chuckle at the young man’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, they’re definitely…something.. that’s a dope tattoo by the way.”

Ace laughed. “I know, right? My friends think I’m crazy for wearing them. But I figure, life’s too short not to wear what makes you happy, you know?” As he grinned and thanked Marcel for the compliment on his tattoo.

Marcel nodded, impressed by the young man’s confident attitude. “You’re right. I like your style.”

Ace beamed. “Thanks, man. It was nice to meet you.”

Marcel watched as the young man sauntered away, still carrying his football under his arm. He smiled to himself knowing that he had just found his next victim and would be meeting Ace at Scences that night.

Ace prepared for the night ahead as he looked I the mirror he felt proud of achieving something. Ace grew up in a small town in Missouri, where life was simple and predictable. He was always a popular child with many friends. He was creative and had a vivid imagination, but he sometimes struggled to express himself in a way that others understood.

As he got older, Ace developed an interest in social media. He loved the idea of being able to connect with people from all over the world, sharing his stories and his art with anyone who would listen. He started posting pictures and videos on Instagram, experimenting with different filters and captions until he found his own unique style.

Ace’s content was quirky and eccentric, filled with bright colors and playful characters. He gained a small following, and he loved the feeling of being able to share his creativity with others. As he continued to post more and more, his following grew, and he started to realize that he might have a future as a social media influencer.

Ace was always up for a challenge. He decided to move out west to pursue his dream of becoming a full-time influencer. He left his small town behind and set out for the big city, determined to make a name for himself.

In LA, Ace found a community of young creators like himself, all trying to build a following and establish themselves in the world of social media. He went to as many events as he could, networking with other influencers and sharing his work with anyone who would listen.

As he left the house His mind raced with ideas he could grab for content whilst he was out that night.

Marcel sat outside the nightclub, he’d seen Ace go in and now eagerly waited for him to come out.

Ace was having a good time in the club. He’d been knocking back drink after drink and was now standing outside in the nightclub garden, swaying from side to side. He had had too much to drink and had been acting obnoxiously all night. He had been dancing wildly, knocking over drinks, and shouting at the top of his lungs, his behavior had been annoying other club goers.

Finally, a bouncer had had enough. He walked over to Ace and said, “I’m sorry, man, but you need to leave. Your behavior is being disruptive, and I can’t let you stay here any longer.”

Ace looked at the bouncer, trying to focus his blurry eyes. “What? Why? I’m having a good time, man. Chill out.”

The bouncer shook his head. “You’re drunk, and you’re making a scene. I can’t let you stay here and ruin everyone else’s night.”

Ace tried to plead his case, but the bouncer was firm, grabbing his arm and ushering him outside.

Marcel looked over at the commotion and saw Ace as he stumbled onto the sidewalk, Ace stood up and with his shirt unbuttoned told the bouncer to fuck off and threw him the middle finger. He knew he had been acting like an idiot, but he had been having so much fun that he hadn’t realized how out of control he had gotten.

He stumbled down the street, his head spinning and his stomach churning. He felt disgusted with himself, like he had let his friends down by ruining their night.

Marcel watched as a clearly intoxicated Ace staggered over to his car and jumped into the driver’s seat. The killer was shocked that Ace was even going to attempt to drive in the state he was in. He prayed that the police didn’t stop the young man as he knew that the chances of fun would be slimming then what they were. Ace sat in his car with his door open as he pondered life for a moment and then revved up the car as he pulled away.

Marcel followed Ace as the young man drove home and watched on as his driving became more erratic the longer it went on. Marcel knew if the cops saw Ace, it was game over but thankfully, he watched as Ace drove into a gated drive way and finally came to a stop. Marcel looked up to the heavens and thanked god as he snuck inside the gate as it slowly closed. He now watched from the bushes as a drunken Ace staggered towards the front door before dropping his keys. The young man bent down and finally succeeded  after a few attempts at trying to get the key in the keyhole.

Marcel watched as Ace entered the house pulled his shirt off and failed to shut his front door. Marcel seized the moment and snuck inside, quietly pulling the door to as he did. He knew he may not have much time as Ace’s roommates could be back soon and prepared to strike.

Moments after Ace left the kitchen Marcel made his move and flung the red Garotte around the shirtless young man neck. In his intoxicated state Ace was no match for Marcel as the young man immediately found himself rocked back on his heels as the ligature was pulled tight. Ace grunted and snarled as he frantically tried to pull away the item that was obstructing his breathing.

Panic crossed Ace’s face. His eyes pleaded for help but there would be none forthcoming. His hands came up as they frantically tried to pull at his attacker and stop the attack. Ace continued to claw at Marcel as the gagging sounds continued to erupt from his clenched throat and his eyes started to bulge.

“Shhh,” Marcel whispered, “Its almost over, Relax and let yourself go.”

Ace’s face was now full of fear as Marcel tightened the ligature as much as he could as a distant crunching sound filled the room as his windpipe collapsed and the hyoid bone in his throat fractured. His body now jerking rhythmically as death claimed him.

With Ace dead Marcel dragged the young man into the living room where he looked down at his latest victim as Ace’s blue eyes stared back up at him as spittle dropped from the edge of his mouth.

Marcel ran his hands over Ace’s fine torso before undoing his jeans and pulling them off to reveal a fine set of legs decorated with a fine light fuzz. He inspected the tattoo more closely on Ace’s thigh and admired the detail before pulling the Garotte tight once again and tying both ends together. Some photos of Ace were taken, and Marcel left the drunk dead hunk lying on the couch ready to be discovered.

Ace’s house mates returned home later that night and in their drunken states failed to notice that their friend had been killed. They all retreated to bed apart from Logan who went to watch some Tv, he saw Ace laid out across the couch and asked his friend to move his legs. Ace’s silence was deafening so Logan pushed the legs up himself and sat himself down, falling asleep as the TV stayed on.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Logan and the rest of the house was woken by the screams of a girl one of the guys had brought back. She walked into the front room and saw Ace lying in his underwear, his vacant eyes staring back at her with the red Garotte wipes tight around his neck.