Hotel Killer

~'+Aggravation+'~

Three days? 4 days? 3 weeks? 3 months?

OJ had lost track of how long Paper had been gone.

And it hadn't even been that long.

He hadn't even realized how much he clinged onto that man, how much he NEEDED him to keep this hotel running, until he was gone.

Everybody in the hotel was starting to notice at this point. It was concerning a lot of people, the Cherries most of all. They didn't like seeing their dad like this. They had tried to talk to him, but he just seemed to be snapping at everybody he talked to.

OJ clenched his fist, trying to take deep breaths. He needed to calm the fuck down, but it was hard. The aggravation he felt was becoming way to much for him to handle. He had begun to chip little pieces off his desk, with his bare hands no less, causing little scratches all over his hands and arms. They would bleed, not much, but they would. And yet?

He enjoyed this.

He enjoyed the little drops of blood that splattered on his desk whenever he chipped the pieces of wood off, and the sound was satisfying to him too.

"I wonder what would happen if I just.." He spoke aloud to himself, taking one of the larger chunks he had managed to pick off, and looking down at his arm.

He inched the wooden chunk closer.

And closer...

And...

OJ let out a slight hiss of pain as the wood grazed his skin, but he liked it. He wanted more of it. He didn't want it to stop.. he felt relieved.

But the longer he looked at it, his own blood gushing out of his arm, the more sick to his stomach he felt. But he just.. couldn't stop. It felt so.. good. But so.. horrible. He was so conflicted, but he felt the need to keep slicing.. and slicing... and slicing.

~~~

Paintbrush huffed, finishing the art-piece they had been working on. Despite the amount of chaos in this damn hotel, they had the art studio and their girlfriend, Lightbulb. Those were the only two things that were keeping them sane, even if it was just an inch of their sanity.

They set the paintbrush down, and went to grab a napkin to wipe the paint off their hands, but grunted in annoyance once they noticed that there was none left.

"Great, now I'm gonna have to go talk to OJ to ask him to get more, and he's been acting all... off lately." Paintbrush groaned in annoyance to themself, flapping their hands a bit to try and dry the paint before they went around touching the objects in the hotel. If they stained them with paint, Soap would never stop giving them an earful about it.

Once they felt the paint was dry enough, they walked over and opened the door to the art studio, walking out of the room and begining to make their way to the front of the hotel.

The sound of the carpet beneath their feet and the loud chatter of the other hotel residents was comforting to them in a sense, it felt like home. And the smell of the place, although a bit musty, was also welcoming to them too. It's the environment they were used to, and they felt safe here.

Subconsciously begining to drag their hand across the patterned walls of the building, Paintbrush continued making their way to the main room. Once they got there, they seemed to snap back to reality in a sense, remembering what goal they were trying to accomplish.

Few residents were in the hotel lobby at the moment, the only two there being Fan and Test Tube. It made sense, though. Most of the residents were at a party being hosted by Microphone at some alternate location right now.

Fan and Test Tube were chattering with each other, about to walk off, likely to Test Tube's laboratory, but when they noticed Painty standing in the corridor, they gave a wave.

Paintbrush waved back, smiling, but quickly looked over to the door of the office.

They slowly made their way over, a pit of anxiety in their throat and a shiver running down their spine. They couldn't put their finger on it, but something just didn't feel right. Their hands began to slowly shake.

It was easy to chalk up to just the odd behavior that OJ was giving off recently, but it felt like something more to the enby. It felt like something.. dangerous.

But they had always been one for overreaction, so what the hell? It couldn't be that bad.

They took a deep breath, and swung the door open..

The room was dark, completely dark. Paintbrush would've thought that OJ was out at the party too, had they not known who he was as a person. They had to take a moment to adjust their eyes to the darkness, during which they could've sworn they heard some form of heavy breathing coming from the office.

Once their eyes had adjusted, they saw it. Or rather, they saw him.