<span style="font-style: italic">‘I am a god. I am perfect. I know all and I see all. I can do this,’</span>Robert repeated in his mind. He wasn’t so much scared about getting caught, but worried about the outcome of the night. He knew he had a foolproof plan. He worked out all the details, and made it simple. He wanted nothing less than perfection for his brother; the only true person he cared for in this life.<br/><br/>Ever since Max came home from his tour in Afghanistan, he wasn’t the same. He knew his brother Max had the itch, the one that wouldn’t go away. Not unless he killed someone. Not unless he felt the pain and suffering of another human being. Robert couldn’t fully relate. He didn’t much care for another person’s life, but he couldn’t imagine getting a high from killing anyone. At the very least he would know by the end of this night.<br/><br/>He looked down St. Catherine’s street. Montreal was alive with people on this hot humid night. Coloured signs for dance clubs, 24/7 restaurants, bars and seedy strip clubs lit the street and it's crowds of screaming people. He looked around watching all of the drunken women stumbling about in short skirts, with smoked eyes, and red lips pouting at the men they were trying to attract. It amused Robert to think of it like an animalistic mating dance, showing their colours to attract a male, all for procreation. Pathetic.<br/><br/>Most of them were an illusion, anyways. Covered in make-up, wearing push-up bras, and high-heels to make them look more than they were. Robert wasn’t interested in those women. He appreciated beauty, but true beauty. When a woman is perfect without anything on. He prized the nubile body of a woman from the shape of her breasts, to the curve of her back. He especially cherished soft even skin, lush lips, and green eyes. Green eyes were his favourite.<br/><br/>He looked at the men trying to get the attention of women, yelling how beautiful they are, throwing pick-up lines, or just saying ‘damn girl’ as they passed in the streets. Robert couldn’t help but laugh at how inexperienced they were. He was a fierce lion in a land of gazelles. There was no comparison.<br/><br/>Robert took a long drag from his cigarette while leaning against the wall of a closed shop. He saw a woman, walking with another, who was flawless. She walked tall and strong, with green eyes, brown hair, perfect skin, supple breasts, and no gimmicks or layered make-up. She was simply beautiful. A rush of excitement filled Robert as he licked his canines.<br/><br/>“What about her? The brunette?” he pointed out to his brother Max, who was leaning on the wall next to him.