motel room, C4

The gavel knocked onto the sound block thrice then a court clerk ordered all in the room to rise. Michael had read the judgment that would change the socio-political landscape of his country. 70 years on since independence, finally the law discriminating against sexual orientation had been totally scrapped. It was legal to marry. Although that meant freedom of expression, the court was stunned silent.

Michael had a date later on but would have preferred to cancel. Media houses were camped outside the courts, waiting to get a statement from him. There was backlash online and the streets were filled in protest. After hours of buying time in his office, he gathered enough courage and stormed out to face the angry crowds. He bullied through the mob that surrounded him, shielded by his guards, and walked into his car that had been brought around for him.

Travellers’ Motel was the spot for his date. He was a sure man who lived his entire life making steady decisions. Even the risk of creating a rift through the fabric of his own country’s social structure was not enough to scare him. His date, however, had made him anxious.

Michael had achieved much in his life; fame, respect, and honorable recognitions. That afternoon, he had just set international precedence that would immortalize him in history. There was one more accolade he was about to add. A masterstroke of human relations that for centuries, had troubled even the brightest in society.

The judge would unintentionally realize his ability to execute a perfect murder.

The Judge.

Michael was never like the others. He was born into a strict and conservative family, with a pastor for a father. Every morning, the family gathered to confess their sins to God for an hour dedicated to prayer. His father was a strict by-the-books follower of the commandments of Moses. He was cult-like in his interpretation of the Bible.

This meant certain foods were banned, fasting was strongly observed, and they couldn’t touch any impurities. Impurities included women, in fact, his father stopped Michael from ever being around them.

“Temptation of the flesh is a sin.”

His mother was stopped from working and had to submit to the duties of a housewife. Michael, who was the only child, was taught to be respectful and follow commands.

Spare the rod, and spoil the child.

Michael would always be reminded of this verse whenever he “sinned.” And he ‘sinned’ often.

He would be whipped across the back, in respect to the sin he had committed; a sin, that he had to confess in the mornings. A lie was always 7 x 7 strokes of the whip as each lashing signified forgiveness. Michael never complained. He knew that sinners were meant to be punished. To sin was to fall short of the grace of God, and the punishment of eternal damnation was far worse than the cane.

On other mornings Michael would be the one to hold the whip and follow his father’s commands. Commands that would range from self-punishment, oath preparation, confession coordination, to leading of prayers. His mother was not any luckier as she would often be beaten for ‘straying’ from the path of the Lord. For her ‘disobedience’ and ‘insubordination.’

Incidentally, his father did no wrong.

Not a morning prayer was held where he confessed to a sin. Even if it were a decision not Biblical, like when he got drunk and staggered home. Every decision and action made by him was directly instructed by God. He was a messenger of the Word and soon, he hoped, his son would be the same.

When Michael became a teenager, he truly understood why he felt different; he liked other boys. This was not a realization made at the instant of course. Since he had always been kept away from much interaction with others, and that his father often claimed women were impure, he truly wouldn’t have known. Deep down, however, he had always held the suspicion in his thought. It just became more “apparent” when he found himself mulling over the lustful fantasies of other men.

He had to confess.

So he did. On a misty morning, Michael confessed to his intrusive thoughts, and it was received with the expected anger. His father whipped him while praying that God exorcises his ‘evil’ spirit. Later, he would pull his son aside and tell him.

“Son, you have to punish your body, for craving the flesh of men. This is against the teachings of God.”

And thus, Michael would constantly battle his mind. Whenever he would drift into fantasy, he would lock himself in his room and whip himself repeatedly.

“Lord forgive me for I have sinned.”

One morning, his parents placed a bowl in the middle of the prayer room. Michael was given a blade and told to slice shallowly through his palm, squeeze blood into it, and pray that God purifies him from sin.

So he did. Thereafter, he promised himself to commit to never being with a man. And if he were to fail and do so, he pledged to purge his own life. Only death, and return to the spirit realm, would exonerate him.

Time passed, and of course, he became wiser. His father, on the other hand, was getting older, and the ferocity that burned within him had faded. The confessions wound down to an eventual halt.

Michael packed his bag one day and walked out to college to pursue a career in law.

This would be significant for three reasons; he was able to understand justice through secular systems, meaning religion was no longer true justice. It also would be the place, he shed off a bit of his religious extremism, and accept that the world functioned differently from what he knew. Ultimately, it would be where he found the woman that would end up being his wife. Of course, Michael had never dated before.

Years rolled on, and his commitment to his wife was constantly tested. He rarely bedded her when they were younger, and as he approached his mid-life, he completely withdrew any sort of physical affection. Deep within him, his true identity that was locked behind pain had been shelved. It was threatening to break free. His reality was buried beneath the blood he shed through punishment. It knocked onto the doors of the cage it had been banished to. And soon after, it awoke.

Michael was giving a talk to a group of juveniles who already had a history of petty crime. He was speaking then, as a senior government prosecutor. He warned them of the dangers of engaging in drugs, crime, and all that. In the group, he spotted Rocky. Once, he locked onto him, his suppressed persona rose with years of burning defiance.

He wanted to have him.

That evening, he locked himself in the study room and took out his then-late father’s whip. He ripped off his shirt and began to punish himself as he did as a child.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. The flesh you bestowed upon me oh Lord, is weak. Take this blood-shed as my offering.”

He continued to whip himself through the pain, and the blood, only stopping to collapse from fatigue.

But his mind was made up; he wanted to be himself once more. He wanted to be with him.

It was at first, simply to ‘test’ whether he really craved men but after time, he felt desire that he couldn’t control. Still, he would lash himself to exorcise the sin of adultery. He regretted straying from the holy institution of marriage. But never for being with one he truly loved.

“Travellers’ Motel. 6:00pm. Celebration.”

Michael was off to meet his lover in the usual place they always escaped to; Travellers’ Motel. Upon arriving, Michael quickly hurried to the reception and found nobody. So he told the maid on duty to give him the keys to room C4.

“Oh, I think this one is for you as well.”

She showed him a teddy bear, but Michael denied it. The two had promised to never exchange gifts so as not to leave a trace. She was left holding it and then proceeded to squeeze the fuzzy bear toy to her chest.

“Maybe I should give this to my child.” She thought to herself, as Michael rushed off.

When he got to the room, he found it already opened. Inside, Rocky was on the edge of the bed and when Michael walked in, he jumped to hug him. Michael was not as excited. So Rocky recoiled.

“You passed it, we can now be together!” Rocky said, still holding onto the excitement that flowed within.

Michael said nothing and instead locked the door using both the key and the safety lock. He then crossed the room to the window and scanned the parking lot. He observed a red car that was parked there; that was unlike the ones he had been used to seeing.

In fact, the car seemed oddly familiar to him.

“You are always so paranoid. Nobody followed you here, I am sure.”

Michael said nothing still. His mind was racing and he needed to relax a little. He walked into the bathroom and took water straight from the tap. Then proceeded to open the shower taps and the laundry tap as well.

“So, can we be together? I want you to show me to the world! Let us be who we really are.” Rocky insisted.

Michael felt the years of punishment start to torment him. He had not expected it to ever be possible. All his life, the thrill of secrecy and sin was what kept him excited. Never, had he known what to do when it was no longer illegal, or forbidden. Still, he had a wife that waited for him back home every night.

“Surely I wouldn’t be able to justify marrying another man? Wouldn’t the judgment be brought to question? Haven’t I sinned enough?”

All these thoughts raced through his mind so he splashed his face repeatedly with water to cool down but drenched his shirt in the process. He ripped it off and threw it on the ground. The tap still ran and was almost flooding the sink.

He turned to Rocky and began muttering.

“We have sinned. We are children of God, but our flesh is weak. Oh Lord, I was unfaithful. Oh, father, I am sinful. Offer me one more chance!”

Rocky had never seen Michael panic before. Often, he was calm and nonchalant. So he backpedaled.

“I am not ashamed of our love anymore. If you won’t accept me, Mikey, I will go to the press and spill everything,” he said, with tears dangling on his eyes.

Michael was shaking and mumbling the same lines over and over.

“You have not thought it through, have you?”

There was no way forward with Rocky. Yes, the laws were passed, but the people were not accepting at all.

Michael groaned loudly.

He wouldn’t last through the shame. That’s it! Shame. He felt shame ripple through him. So, he unbuckled his belt and began to lash himself. As he did, he fell to his knees and began to weep loudly.

“Oh Lord what have I done? Here, take my life. I don’t deserve it any longer. Oh Lord, purge my soul! Forgive me, Father!”

He cried out loud but continued to lash his back. Rocky swiftly rushed and held his hand. Michael pushed him away.

“It is not a sin Michael. Stop doing this!” Rocky screamed at Michael after falling on the edge of the bed.

The tap had begun to wet the bathroom floor after overflowing the sink.

So Michael stood and faced Rocky. He couldn’t believe what had been said.

“Not a sin?” he barked.

“What does he mean not a sin? Hasn’t it been sin all along?” he thought out loud.

That is what he had been doing. And that is why he punished himself for it. His whipping wasn’t going to amount to anything if it wasn’t sin. Sin had to be punished, and sadly, Rocky had committed the worst of all. He had denied it and failed to confess.

Michael turned his focus towards Rocky and began to beat him up with the belt he held in his hands. The lashes carried the weight of his own father’s. He was simply doing as he knew. If you deny sin, a demon has possessed you, and you should exorcise it. Thus, he whipped the boy.

“Repent! Repent! Repent!”

Michael desired a new sin. He relished the pain he was inflicting and thought of doing even more harm. While Rocky begged and ran around the room, throwing items at Michael, a psychopathic monster that had been groomed throughout his childhood, had risen to the surface.

Michael grabbed Rocky and placed the belt across his neck, strangling him. He dragged him across the floors, muttering the same prayer over and over. The bathroom floors were wet from the flowing taps. He continued to choke Rocky. He tightened his hold more and more.

“Purge him of sin oh Lord!” Michael screamed.

Rocky kicked and grabbed the air in a frantic attempt at escaping from impending death.

Rocky had lost consciousness when Michael took the ceramic top of the toilet’s cistern and hurled a downward blow onto Rocky’s skull. Once, twice, thrice, ten times.

He stopped and looked to the heavens then continued for another series of blows.

The weapon was cracked, with shards splattered across the bathroom, leaving the face of his victim unrecognizable. At the cracked edges, were flesh, blood, and brain. Rocky’s blood slowly turned the swamping floor, red.

Michael fell on his back and wailed, praying for forgiveness.

“Oh Lord, I have done as your will. Forgive me father, for the flesh, is weak. Accept this sacrifice. Let his soul into your kingdom.” He struggled to pray as he cried.

There was a knock on the door!

Michael got up steadily and locked the bathroom door. He was calm, his pants soaked in bloody water. He dragged his feet across the carpeted motel room. He dragged each step up to the door.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

Strangely, there was no panic. Deep within his heart, he held no remorse.

So he opened the door, and right before him, was the last person he expected. How ironically perfect was the timing? Before him - her face pale with dread - was his wife.

Michael, grabbed her by her waist, pulled her to him, lifted her up where her knees folded then proceeded to kiss her with a passion he had never held in years. He whisked her into the room, closed the door, and threw her on the bed.

The Wife.

The red car that parked outside, the one that was familiar to Michael, was in fact his neighbor’s. Inside, was Mariam. She had stalked the Motel that had been of suspicion to her since she found it listed as ‘places visited’ on her husband’s Google history. The suspicion drove her to believe he had a lover. So she snooped through his phone and found the text that was written;

“Travellers’ Motel. 6:00pm. Celebration.”

Then, she borrowed the car from their neighbor so not to be easily spotted during her stakeout. She timed it such that she would be there before her husband arrived. Unaware of what room they would use, she parked smack in the middle of the parking lot. When Michael pulled into the Motel through the basement, she followed him along the hallways and waited until he walked into the room.

As she stood outside, she got a panic attack. Heavy short spurts of breath coupled with a rapid heartbeat. She couldn’t control herself and had to force deep-breathing exercises to calm herself.

It was an old-school dilemma.

In her mind, she thought of barging in and stopping her husband early on. But then she realized, if she timed it too early, she wouldn’t catch him ‘pants down.’ So she figured that she should give him time with his lover, to get cozy enough, then attack.

She tapped her white sneakers onto the floor and anxiously chewed her nails. She wore a yellow dress with blue flowers. It was Michael’s favorite. A part of her hoped that her outfit would remind him of the woman he had sworn to love through sickness and ‘til death. She paced around and wondered what more she could’ve done to keep him. Inadequacy consumed her at the moment. She had never thought of being the woman that tracked down her man into motels.

Then she heard a loud thump!

Mariam couldn’t restrain herself anymore. She rushed to the door and knocked on it severally. Her heart was racing. Innately, she preferred to look an obsessive lover, than remain a foolish one. She had a plan; she would punch him, slap him, then go straight for his lover.

Immediately, the door flung open, and before her, stood her man, clothes drenched and shirtless. She stood there mouth wide and confused. Swiftly, without her letting a word out, he literally swooped her off her feet. He planted a kiss on her, and she was thrown onto the bed.

She had never felt so attracted to him.

***

Mariam was the second-born daughter of two. Unlike her husband, she was raised in a very wholesome family. Her parents were pharmacologists who would try their best to be neutral to the sisters. They would give each child as much attention as possible while juggling with their busy careers.

Mariam never really felt deserted.

Her elder sister Tini was in fact, her role model, and everything she did left her wide-eyed in wonder. She was the model big sister. A’s in her exams, a star in gymnastics and swimming, popular at school and outside, more confident, and Mariam believed her to be prettier.

In the periods Mariam was present as her sister dressed up, she would keenly observe Tini and marvel at the grace she held. Then, she would imitate her style in private after. Even sashaying as her sister would in front of her mirror. In public, from when she was a child, Mariam would follow her sister around. Quietly observing and obsessing.

Only one problem festered within Mariam throughout these years; inadequacy.

Her entire life was always a pale shadow to her sister’s. She was a B student, agonizingly average outside school, barely memorable in social circles, and reserved. She would try to be everything her sister was, but worse. Never really became a focus for anybody. Her parents would always cover up for her mistakes. They shielded her from any failures or lessons by innately believing Mariam to be unable to be as prodigious.

Age didn’t change a thing, in fact, it grew her admiration while shrinking her self-confidence.

“If you find a good man Mariam, hold onto him. Promise me that.” She was told, before her sister left for a life in marriage.

So that is exactly what Mariam believed; in true long-lasting love. That her true identity will manifest in the man she will attract. So when Michael approached her, she did everything she could to make it work. Michael was disciplined, ambitious, and incredibly driven. The cherry on top, he only had eyes for her; isn’t that what all women wanted?

Mariam had never been intimate with a man, likewise, Michael had only ever known her. So, they were unaware of any benchmark set in intimacy. She couldn’t have said anything was wrong, she didn’t know better. She wasn’t keen on the man’s prowess in bed anyway, his presence was enough.

Michael did her proud, arguably even more than her sister could. He was amassing a strong reputation across the socio-political sphere as a strong-willed Christian judge. This presented a perfect candidate for the judiciary to place more roles on him, knowing well that Michael would deliver.

Mariam had now usurped her sister Tini. She had become the one to set the pace, and her identity blossomed within the marriage. She had found someone to admire, emulate and obsess over, for life.

Years rolled on and Michael slowly became more and more distant. He stopped the intimacy, he wouldn’t touch her. Nothing else in his life had dramatically changed. At first, she thought it was the loss of his father that had driven him away, but Michael rarely ever mentioned him. Her identity which had taken years to find, and even more to grow, was crashing down.

Michael had accepted her and she knew a good woman was the one that knew how to keep a man. She wasn’t going to fail, but she was growing resentful. Resentful of her husband’s distancing, but mostly of herself. What kind of woman lets a man wander off? Who loses a man that has shaped her life?

The past that had driven her to recluse, was haunting her.

“You’ll never be good enough Mariam!” she once shouted at her own reflection in the mirror.

Nights were spent on her own room’s floors, rolling in depressive agony. Her husband lived in the same house, never coming home late. Yet, he had not even shared the matrimonial bed with her for two years. She got desperate and begged Michael to give her a baby.

“The baby will love me unconditionally.”

When she found the Motel listed in her husband’s locations, Mariam was a train wreck. She believed, he was leaving her for someone prettier, smarter, and better. To her, Michael had realized his worth, and that he can have any woman he wished. Not Mariam, the shadow.

“Everyone has always been better anyway!” She said as she experienced yet another depressive episode through the night.

So, when she was grabbed by her man that evening outside Room C4, she felt the level of acceptance she rarely had. The passion in his kiss and the way he lifted her drove her to feel a level of attraction that Mariam had spent years searching for. The little girl inside her was happy again. Finally, she was valued. So many years had gone by, and he had never shown so much desire. Her dream man saw her as beautiful enough for love.

 “This is the dress I love.”

She felt so shy, she looked at him and wondered why his clothes were stained red, with what could be blood. But she wasn’t in the mood for logic.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

In her mind, she pictured how angry she would be. She had run fantasies of how she would kick and punch Michael and then threaten to leave. But the way she asked that question, was soft. She smiled shyly as she asked anyway. It was not even loud enough for Michael to hear. He was kissing her neck while muttering a prayer.

“God sent you. You are His messenger. Please forgive me.”

Mariam was blushing, she felt weak. Of all the possibilities that she had thought of, none included making love to her husband. Her mouth couldn’t spew the rage that boiled within her. She froze and even began to sob. As she did, Michael raised her face and kissed her all over. He never bothered to wipe off her tears or ask why she was hysterical.

She couldn’t speak and instead threw her hands up and then down in defeat.

“You are everything Mariam. I have sinned, and God has punished me for that. My flesh was weak with greed. I have carried the Lord’s wish.”

Everything?

Mariam had never been anything. A nothing all through her life. Nobody remembered her or even proclaimed her. She had never had boys falling over her every step in high school. No parties thrown while in university had her on the invite list. That moment in room C4, she was everything to someone. She just looked up to the ceiling as Michael continued to plaster her body with kisses, and just smiled through tears. She was sobbing through it, her heart overwhelmed. At that point, there was nothing else that truly mattered. Her entire life’s happiness was there, the man that now loved him so deeply, was all she needed. Even in the heart of her depression, she knew she always wanted to be loved.

And she was.

“Michael, the carpet’s wet.”

She said to Michael that had knelt before him. Sobbing into her dress. She took him by his hands and led him to the bathroom. When she opened the door, the bloody water washed onto her feet. A man lay on the floor of the room, his face bloated, mashed, and bloody.

“Oh baby, what have you done?”

Mariam strangely though was even more aroused. Her man not only thought of her as everything but had actually killed someone else for it. She saw the man on the floor and didn’t even take time to wonder why it would be a man, not a woman his husband was with. It didn’t matter. Michael had chosen her. Without shifting her stare from the body in front of her, she asked for the boy’s name.

“Rocky,” Michael answered.

He was hugging her from the back.

Rocky.

Rocky’s real name is not known as he never really had one. He was born into the underworld of society. His mother was a drug-head and completely incapable of taking care of the child. The father was unknown. She was going to abort him but used the abortion money to buy drugs instead. When Rocky was around three years old, in a fit of irreverent rage, his mother cursed him away.

“Your existence is a mistake.”

The Mamba Clan - rulers of society’s underbelly and her peddlers - became aware of her child’s mistreatment.

“You either kill that child, or we will.” They threatened her.

In response, she one day woke up and left the baby behind.

Ironically, it would be the Mamba Clan that adopted him. As he grew older, it became more apparent that he was queer. So the Clan named him Suzie Lucy. To be raised by a negligent mother is a tragedy in its own way, but to be brought up in a gang of murderous street kids, is far worse.

Suzie Lucy would be given food last, his spoils thrown on the floor as the others ate from plastic plates. Often during missions, he would be left behind as the gang escaped. And most times, his presence in missions would be a topic of conflict across the faction.

“He will slow us down!”

One time he had a scuffle with one of the other gang members. Suzie Lucy had been tripped while walking. So, he stood up for himself and shoved his bully. But others rushed to the aid of his foe and even drove a screwdriver into his face. They left him with a deep gash that healed into a permanent scar.

At the peak of lunacy, he woke up with his hands tied, as they ran electricity through his body. Tying the cables to his scrotum.

He had been arrested, beaten up, and chased far more than the rest.

Ironically or not, he became the toughest in the group.  

So one time, he sat watching a movie in a local shop and Rocky was showing. He saw how a “real man” behaved and looked. How easy it was for people to accept him. A man with a tall frame and powerful fists. Nobody in the movie bullied the protagonist, and he achieved his goals. He thought that he was as tough as Stallone’s Rocky Balboa, and so named himself Rocky.

When he met Michael, a man who expressed a desire for him, he felt needed for the first time in his life. Old enough to be like the parent he never had, but young enough to ignite a genuine passion. A person showing him kindness that he had never really known. He got inevitably attached quickly and deeply. Their relationship was an escape from the hell he had been raised to live in.

So when their love became officially legal, with Micheal reading the judgment himself, he knew that he would finally be free.

He had no need to hide. His savior would accept him and take him home. Rocky was looking forward to the peace that settling down would offer. He dreamt of the trips he would take and places he’d visit. He thought of the clothes he could wear, now that he would be free to be himself again. There was so much hope in him, that when he got the text to meet at their usual spot at the Travellers’ Inn Motel, he knew that would be the day Michael made him public.

“Maybe, he will take me home with him.”

His gang members had with time, grown to fear him. Fear, bred with resentment. They had turned him into the toughest one in the group with the least to lose. However, they began to suspect him.

For months on, he became richer and richer without having to steal or sell drugs. They wondered where he got his money from, so they started tailing him. When they discovered, he often met with a judge, they thought him to be a mole in their operation. Their sporadic meeting times did not offer a clear-cut chance to attack and properly plan until;

“Travellers’ Motel. 6:00pm. Celebration.”

This message, which they hacked to view, led them to believe this to be the day of the bust and end of the Mamba Clan. Every Clan member was convinced Rocky was plotting revenge on their many years of persecution.

“He is going to snitch and tell them everything.”

So they planned to eliminate him beforehand. Their plan had to involve as minimal witnesses as possible but with a guarantee of success.

“Let’s blow them up!”

A perfect idea had been put forth. They took a teddy bear and placed C4 in it. Then they had a two-hour timer that would start when the teddy was squeezed tightly in the middle. It could also be switched on through a manual trigger, which was backup. Shock, such as hard falls, would also cause a big risk of explosion.

The bear’s eyes had a secret camera for monitoring movement.

Before the lovers arrived at the Motel, the Clan roughed up the receptionist and had him tell them which room had been booked. They then placed the teddy bear.

Shortly after, the maid came in to wash the room as had been requested by Michael and took it with her completely throwing off their ridiculous plan.

The bear could explode at any time and anywhere. 

***

Mariam was holding Michael’s hand when she turned around and asked,

“What now?”

They exchanged a deep look of fondness that hadn’t been felt in years. Instantly, they fell into each other’s arms and enjoyed a deep embrace.

“I will follow you wherever you may go,

To heaven or hell, as I know,

Oh my love I will never let you go,

Even when down, I will follow you around,

I’ll follow you around oh oh,

From your highest highs to your deepest lows.”

Mariam sang as she lay her head on her husband’s chest. They were complete. Michael held onto his wife and continued to pray for forgiveness. He was atoning for his own sins, then he began to forgive his father. After forgiving them, he forgave Rocky. He was finally fully atoned.

They both knew their lives had to be reborn, this world was not theirs to belong.

She let go of his hand and reached for her purse. In it, was the ricin she intended to kill Michael’s lover with. She placed two drops in a glass and filled it with water from the tap. She turned the tap off, but the water had leaked outside the room by then.

She couldn’t be left to live alone in a world where she had nobody loving her back. There was no way she was going to let a man that had breathed life into her own identity go to prison, or die alone.

“This is a passage into the next world, Michael, let’s walk into it together. Our souls will be reborn as pure.”

As her hands shook, she raised it for her husband, who accepted it as he would the Holy Communion; drinking it to be washed off sin. He immediately felt the poison rush through him, kissed his wife, and shut his eyes in anticipation of peace. Mariam felt loved, adored, and admired. The moment had to be preserved. She took the rest of the glass, as the two moved slowly dancing to a song that only played in their heads.

***

The two Clan members sent to finish the job were unsure of what to do. Their wired teddy bear was nowhere to be found, but the video feed showed it placed at the reception. If it were to explode, there would be no guarantee of a clean hit on their targets.

They would have to finish them off the hard way, so they clocked their pistols and went up the stairs. A shootout would leave some witnesses, but the risk was better than having their secrets exposed.

They rushed up the stairs which had fading red water and stormed into room C4.

On the carpet was a couple; the judge and a woman in a yellow dress. Their skin was pale as ash. Inside the bathroom, was the body of their comrade. It was half-floated above the flooded tiles. The face was completely unrecognizable, so they identified him through his unique tattoos.

“We don’t even need to use these.” They said, impressed with how things had turned out in their favor.

The maid had received complaints of flooding.

She noticed it was Room C4 so she rushed to see if there was any support she could offer to the Motel’s most esteemed guest.

She walked in and found a couple on the floor, and two men with guns, hovering over a dead body floating in the flooded bathroom. Her hands lost their strength and dropped the teddy bear she had been holding all along.

Five.

Fear pushed her to scream.

Four.

The Clan members ignored her.

Three.

But watched as the teddy bear fell onto the soaked carpet.

Two.

It made a spluttering sound.

One.

Time was up.

Boom.

The End.

The story told is purely fictional and does not intend to undermine nor overlook the struggles of identity.