As the automatic door greeted Richard by opening its mechanical jaws and he entered, the employees of the Hotel gazed around curiously to look at him. He was drunk, and to them that was no unobvious truth. He walked like a disorientated camel who didn’t know his head from his backside. Yet, they did as they had been instructed in this class of situation; they ignored him and continued with what they had been doing, and would do so unless he became a cause of serious concern. As it went, he didn’t cause any trouble in the Hotel lobby. He simply passed through like an untimely bad smell.
Using his thumb, Richard forcibly pressed the elevator call button and then stumbled backwards. He caught himself instinctively on a nearby pillar and quickly regained his balance. After a few seconds the doors slid open and Richard climbed inside.
Gazing down at the hefty tree of numbers corresponding to the various floors, Richard tried desperately to remember the room number she had given him. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, ‘was it 6012, or 5012? It’s got to be one of those’ he thought to himself. He placed his left hand on his head and punched angrily against the button panel with his right; incidentally the number six became illuminated. The doors closed shut.
When Georgia opened the door – after Richard had knocked and waited eagerly on the opposing side– the first thought that crossed her mind was not that her death was drawing close. She felt not panic, instead she was thrilled and glad he had finally arrived. She had waited patiently in just her dressing gown for him to give her the time of her life and then gently whisk her away to a distant land. Her dreams were about to be shattered.
She beckoned him inside, and he followed closely behind as she retreated to the bedroom, quietly easing the door shut. She stopped as she approached the bed and turned her head slowly. “What took you so long, honey? Keeping me keen are you?” she said seductively.
“Close your eyes. I’ve got a surprise for you” he said, trying to sound as sober as possible. She’d already guessed he was pissed as a fart – his wandering, unfocused eyes gave it away.
She closed her eyes. “Go on then, give it to me”, she said, instructively.
He gave it to her.
He gave her eight inches of sharp stainless steel, forcibly thrust into her neck. Spurts of blood dived from the artery in her neck, splattering as they collided with the walls as he gently muffled her painful dying screams with his free hand. He held her until the bleeding stopped and then eased her lifeless corpse to the carpet.
He placed her body in the bathtub and filled it with cold water. Then he went into the bedroom and quickly changed into clean clothes he’d placed strategically in the wardrobe beforehand.
Richard knew he couldn’t stick around. The numerous appearances he’d have made on CCTV that night, as well the masses of evidence in the room were enough for police to place their suspicions solely on Richard.
Richard knew this. He had his passport and twenty-thousand pounds in cash sitting on the passenger seat of his car. By this time tomorrow, Richard would be abroad; gone without a trace.
Richard turned the door handle and pulled the door to open it. It wouldn’t move. He muttered curses under his breath and checked the lock. It wasn’t locked.
“I don’t have time for this shit!” he muttered loudly, and yanked the door violently, but it failed to open. Richard stood confused.
All of sudden, Richard became encased in blackness as the lights in the room turned off.
Richard listened to the unsteady gasps of his own breathing. Beyond this, Richard could hear another sound; splashing water and soft thuds against a wet laminate surface. He turned around.
His heart stopped.
By the silver gaze of the moon peeking through the curtains, he witnessed the bloody naked corpse of his former lover, leaning seductively against the doorframe of the bathroom, her legs crossed and her hand on her hip.
She cracked a wide malicious smiled. “Coming for a bath, darling?” she asked, “The water’s getting awfully cold”.
