As my surrounding finally come back into focus, I glance over at what was a body that used to contain a human soul.
Like a vessel without a captain. A ship without a sailor. A jet without a pilot.
The countless crimson stains pour down from this poor souls neck to the white tiled floor.
Despite my having taken a human life, all I can think of is how damn impossible it's gonna be to get the stains out of the floor.
Well, the floor always did need a new coat of paint.
As my sense of reality and reason finally come back to me, I slowly realize the gravity of the situation here.
I figure, Dez is probably much better at this type of thing.
I speedily whip out my phone and quickly dial his phone number.
"Dez, I'm gonna need a favour." I state in a rather stressed voice, making sure to keep my voice down so the others outside of the washroom won't hear me.
"That didn't take long, did you discover anything?" Dez says, genuinely curious.
This is probably the first time we've had a conversation without insulting each other.
"Well. Funny enough, I need your help so no one will discover something."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well I sorta killed the guy who y'know." I say, physically shrugging my shoulder as if I thought we were talking face to face.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me, Jensen. I leave you alone for 5 bloody minutes and already there's bodies?" Dez yells angrily.
Well, then. That didn't take long.
"Look, dez. Are you going to help me out here or not?"
"Well, are we seriously banking our success on our faith that no one's going to walk in on the corpse? I mean, maybe. Just maybe no one happens to walk in. There's still the matter of the smell, and depending on how this all went down, maybe even blood stains!"
Dezmond makes a good point.
"I mean, can they really complain about a free paint job, though? Free is free." I joke, mainly trying to just take the edge off of both of us.
"My point still stands, Jensen."
"Well do you have a better idea, then?" I ask, half sarcastically and half genuinely curious. Though he'd have probably brought one up if he did. In between an insult I'm sure.
"Fine, let me know when the meetings over, then I'll come and help you dispose of the body. Just make sure no one enters the bathroom."
"Okay." I say, on the verge of a panic attack.
I wash the blood off my hands, waiting for the adrenaline to end.
I look into the mirror, trying to ease myself back into the "snarky, but loveable" role.
I scoff at the thought of it.
Loveable.
No one out there loves me, this poor soul that's laying on the ground referred to me as a brat, maybe that's all that I'm meant to be. The kid trying to take part in events that are much too adrenaline rushing for his blood.
I gaze into the mirror of the washroom, looking at my reflection, unflinching. Despite having killed a man.
Unflinching.
YOU ARE READING
The Depth of His Depravity
ActionNote: Over the next few weeks, I'm going to work on editing the chapters I currently have, as it was written when I was much less skilled at writing, after that I'm probably going to take my time on writing it in a much better, and overall, much mo...
