s I was entering my hotel room, I heard a sound. I walked in slowly and closed the door quietly behind me. On the table by the door was the gun and handcuffs from last nights hen party. I had taken some self-defence classes so I knew I could handle whoever it was. Okay, the gun wasn't real, but it was pretty realistic.
Holding the gun I moved further into the bedroom. I heard the water running in the bathroom. As silently as possible I moved towards the bathroom door. It was partly open so I could see there was definitely someone there, someone with broad shoulders, maybe six feet tall, taller than my five foot eight at any rat. I pushed the door open a little more, lifted the gun and firmly. "Put your hands up, or I will shoot."
He didn't move, flinch, he just kept his back turned away from me looking in the sink.
"Did you hear me?" I asked. Still nothing.
"What are you doing in my room?" I asked, moving slowly closer so I could see what he was doing at the sink. Blood, rich, red blood was running down the drain. He was washing blood off his hands.
"Oh, God. He could kill me! With that thought in mind in mind, I started backing out of the room. I kept the gun up but before I could leave the bathroom he finally turned and looked at me.
The first thing I noticed was his eyes, black with no white. Just black, like a sharks. Then I noticed his skin, pale and colourless.
"Drugs. He's on drugs. Oh, God. He's going to kill me and blame it on the drugs, and then he's going to get away with killing me." I was frozen in place.
He laughed, I'm worried about dying and he's laughing. Part of me wanted to hit him, but it wasn't cruel laughter. It was as, though he had found something funny "What?" I asked.
"Lower the gun and I'll tell you." he said. Before I could argue, my hand went down. Looking me in the eye, he said, "Drop it." Down went the gun.
"Don't be scared." He told me.
"Don't be scared," says the man who seems to be controlling my body or thoughts or whatever the hell he's doing. He laughed again! What a kidder.