Obsession Claimed, Blood Repaid
939 Words
Bruce is not familiar with the area, he does not know where the “Little Sparrow Inn” is located.
Considering Logan's familiarity with the neighborhood, Bruce decided that the hotel should not be too far away from his community.
After circling around a few times, he finally saw the Little Sparrow Inn at the end of a rundown street with a flashing neon sign.
“Thank goodness for the Privacy Act.” He muttered.
At this point in time, many public areas in downtown Los Angeles still weren't covered with surveillance; instead, private homes were more likely to have cameras.
He carefully chose an unsupervised parking spot, avoiding any viewpoints that might capture him. Then he took a screwdriver and a flashlight out of his car, walked through the alley, and spent seven or eight minutes quietly arriving at the back door of the Little Sparrow Inn.
It was pitch black all around.
It was after three in the morning, and the streets of the city of Los Angeles were cold and dangerous, with few people about.
He went to the electrical box at the back of the hotel and skillfully disconnected the power supply. The hotel was plunged into darkness. He pricked up his ears and listened for movement inside the hotel-quiet as the grave.
After confirming that no one was watching, he followed the same path around to the front door.
He crouched down and stuffed his shoe covers with the sponge he'd ripped from the back seat of the car and put them on his feet again.
“Mitigate the footsteps and blur the trail too.” He whispered to himself.
This rough disguise would make it difficult to restore his identity even if he was discovered.
The interior of the small hotel was simple and shabby, the front desk was just a table, and on the sofa placed against the wall, the fat man at the front desk was snoring like crazy.
The spare batteries of the lamp were still on, providing Bruce with some light.
He moved silently through the small gap to the fat man, and his gloved hand slammed down on the fat man's mouth and carotid artery.
The fat man struggled for a moment and quickly fainted as the interruption of blood flow took effect.
A few minutes were enough time to act.
Bruce flipped through the register and confirmed that Logan was registered in room 304. He finds the key hanging on the wall and moves quickly but steadily.
He stepped over the shoddy carpet to the 304 door and carefully inserted the key to turn the lock cylinder and the door swung open.
He poked his palm into the gap and removed the chain from the door gear. He gently pushed the door of the room and quietly sneaked in.
There was a medium-sized figure lying on the bed, and the room was filled with a strong odor of alcohol.
Without letting his guard down, he went straight to the bedside, pressed down on the other man's carotid artery, and repeated the maneuver he had just used.
Shortly afterward, Logan went into a coma.
Bruce tied his hands and feet and gagged him before turning on his flashlight and looking for identification.
After turning over the other man's driver's license, he confirmed that it was none other than the target, Logan.
“Didn't even take off his clothes, so he was really drunk.” Bruce thought to himself.
After confirming the identity, he was about to make his move when Logan suddenly vomited and the debris squeezed out of his mouth, along with the top of the item that had been gagged.
Logan opened his eyes, realized his arms and legs were entangled, and was about to scream when a screwdriver was already at his throat.
Bruce whispered a warning, “Make a sound if you want to die!”
Logan whimpered in fear and was too drunk to resist.
Bruce was about to tackle it straight away when he suddenly changed his mind: why not try the obsession mechanism while he was at it?
He put away his blade, shone his flashlight in front of Logan's eyes, and asked, “Why did you kill your wife and neighbor?”
“What?” Logan narrowed his eyes in dismay and calmed down after a moment, “Who are you? You're illegally detaining me, I could sue you!”
He assumed the man in front of him was some kind of ultra-powerful detective.
Bruce sneered and didn't respond.
Logan saw his silence and became more calm, “I've had fights with my wife, but I would never kill anyone. If you're a detective, show me the evidence.”
Bruce's mind was made up - this guy had misunderstood him.
He stared at Logan with cold eyes and read softly, “No? You step on a horse and say nothing!”
Before the words left his mouth, the screwdriver accurately pierced Logan's carotid artery, and the blood flowed freely, sealing his last struggle.
He withdrew the screwdriver and pressed the sheet against the wound, wiping away the blood in the process.
Before closing the door, he glanced back as blood spurted down the wound, staining the white comforter blood red.
He turned away and disappeared silently into the darkness of the night.
*****
Author’s Note:
Thank you so much for reading and being part of this journey!
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- Writer
