|Eight|

•Week Four• (5)

(Dguysysudkdkdkakcjdjwosjc what even is this story. Angst and spelling mistakes, probably. )

I let out a shaky breath, still dripping with his blood.

I couldn't possibly clean up the evidence, but lucky for me, he had already made sure room 100 was blocked off from everyone else. He had planned to leave me here to die, how ironic.

So, at least I had some time and I didn't have to worry about security cameras.

I went to a drawer next to one of the hospital beds, searching for something to stop my bleeding.
After fumbling around, I found a roll of gauze.

Lifting up my shirt was a little difficult considering the fact that it was matted down with gallons of blood. I took a rag and went into the bathroom, wetting it before putting it on my stab wound. Cleaning the blood as best I could.

I winced, putting some disinfectant on it. It stung like hell, but it wasn't the worst thing I've been through today.

After that, I carefully wrapped the gauze around myself. Layering it in a way that would keep the blood from leaking out.

I took another shaky breath, exiting the bathroom and going back to the drawers next to the beds.
I needed to find an extra pair of clothes, anything would work. I just needed something.

At the bottom of the last drawer, I found a pair of jeans and a button up. Probably forgotten by some patient. I quickly pulled them out, changing as fast as I could.

I needed to hurry, but my hands were so shaky and I could hardly breathe. How did murderers do this kind of thing without having a mental breakdown?

I carefully shook my head so I wouldn't black out. I wasn't murderer, I killed a murderer. I was still a good guy.

............... Right.

This was a one time thing, and it was absolutely necessary.

Though, looking at the corpse now, I admit I got a little too carried away. I doubt police would be able to recognize that the sack of blood and organs laying on the floor was even human once.

I shrugged. I couldn't change that now, I had to keep going.

I went back to the bathroom, holding the rag under the stream of water coming from the tap. I began to scrub the blood off my face, arms, and hands.

I got most of it off, but my fingertips seemed to be dyed red.

I sighed in frustration, rinsing the rag out. Blood swirled down the drain, making my stomach feel queasy.

I leaned back on the wall, letting out heavy breaths. What had I done?

The right thing.

I squeezed my eyes shut. No, this wasn't me. What the hell was doing? I murdered someone.

What was even worse was the fact that I didn't stop stabbing him, and now I'm trying to justify my actions. I was better than this.....

Keyword: was.

I was innocent, I was the good guy, I was better than this.

But not anymore.

I pushed myself off the wall, walking out of the bathroom after hiding the rag in a cupboard. It was cleaned of blood, but I wanted to hide it just in case.

The room reeked of iron and something else that made my insides twist. It wasn't a good scent, and the fact that the room was already stuffy made it worse.

I picked up the knife, flashes of what I had done racing through my mind.
The blade was hot from all the fresh blood, mentally burning me.

I don't know who I am anymore.......
I've been trying to distract myself from what was really bothering me, the thing that made my heart sink.

What would Jack and Ryan think of me now? They already loathed me. I thought they could learn to forgive me, but now I knew that was out of the question. They'd hate me more than they've ever hated anyone.

The thought of them never forgiving me for my sin brought me physical pain, and was the worst pain I've ever encountered.

It was hot and piercing, filling my heart with a kind of sadness that made tears well up in my eyes.

I stood their, holding the knife.

There was only one thing I could do.......

Make sure Jack and Ryan never find out about this. What's one more lie? We'll continue on with the music, and our normal lives. They trust me, they'd believe me if I told them I hadn't done anything bad.

The sick feeling increased, but I continued to clean up the evidence. Washing everywhere I touched and cleaning the blood off the knife.

I didn't bother trying to wash all the blood, especially since I didn't want to struggle to get it all off the ceiling.

I did, however, put one of the hospital sheets over the man's corpse. His body was as pale as a mannequin, but even then I couldn't even tell which part of him was his head and which part was..... Everything else.

I took a coat off one of the hangers in a closet near the door, quickly throwing it on and hiding the knife in one of the inside pockets.

I wanted to leave the knife, I honestly didn't want anything to do with it, but I couldn't. It was a big piece of evidence and I couldn't leave it, especially if I didn't want Jack and Ryan finding out about this.

Once I was all ready, I stared at the door.

I couldn't just walk out of this room like nothing happened, and besides that, they'd most likely see me leaving the room.

I sighed a little, walking back through the room to the far window. I opened it, which was a bit difficult since this room hadn't been used recently.

I slipped out of the room through the window, falling out of the building into some bushes.

"Ow!" Twigs scraped and poked at me, and after a few minutes I was finally able to get out of the thorny bush.

I dusted my new clothes off, trying to adjust to the bright sun. It was strange, seeing how the world was going on as usual. I had just killed someone, and no one knew.

I tightly shut the window behind myself, before pulling out my phone that I had to clean up.

There was still a few sprinkles of blood on the screen, but I didn't have anything to wipe them off so I just tried my best to ignore it.

I pulled up the list of Crows, going through the names until I came to the next victim.

Mark Sally.

Time to pay someone else a visit, and this time, I had something to defend myself with.