Chapter Text
Ohm stared at Jerry's body, now pinned to the floor by a bolt shot through his head. The man’s dead eyes stared up at the ragged author when a voice cut through his shocked silence.
“Stay back!” The manager, Mal’s?, called out to the man. He leaned down to face Ohm; crossbow pointed at the author’s face. Mal’s expression was manic, a thick layer of sweat gleamed in the sunlight that poured out from one of the partially uncovered windows, his hair unkempt as his body heaved. “Or I’ll shoot you too!” The man threatened, using his weapon to emphasize the threat but the longer the panic-stricken Ohm stared at the crossbow, he realized something. It was empty. Its only ammo was currently stuck in his would-be savior’s skull. Mal was unarmed. The man seemed to realize the same thing when he attempted to pull the weapon’s trigger upon Ohm’s refusal to back away from the crawlspace entrance. “Shit!” The murderer cursed as he realized this.
Ohm took the man’s momentary distraction as his chance to dart out past the man, towards the elevator. His one chance at escaping this God forsaken honeymoon suite. Ohm was halfway to the elevator, hand just barely grazing the heart shaped button when a hand yanked the man back by the hood of his jacket. Ohm barely had the chance to brace himself before he was thrown to the floor by the man who’d trapped him up there in the first place.
“What the hell?” Ohm cried out as the man kneeled down and grabbed Ohm by his neck, fingers tightening around the author’s neck before he could get another word out.
“You couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?” Mal asked as his fingers laced together, creating a deathly tight grip around Ohm’s neck. Ohm let out a few puttering gasps as Mal continued to speak. “You couldn’t just leave well enough alone. All for some girl you barely even know.”
“Her name was Fiona,” Ohm managed to get out, his own hands struggling against Mal’s, attempting to get his grip to lighten. “You killed her.”
“I had to!” Mal almost screamed in Ohm’s face. “She was going to tell everyone about us! Cob already hates me! I could’ve been fired if he found out I cheated on his daughter!”
That’s it?
Ohm wanted to ask but the grip on his air pipe continued to grow tighter and tighter, making words nigh impossible. Ohm's vision began to blur as his hands fell away from Mal's. Instead, he desperately groped around on the floor for something, anything, that could help him fight back. His fingers blindly searched for salvation before finally gripping something thick and wooden. The axe.
Jerry must’ve dropped it.
Ohm thought as his hand struggled to get a grip on the tool. His hand was unsteady, fingers slipping against the weapon before finally managing to curl around the axe’s handle. Mal didn’t seem to notice Ohm’s arm as it lifted up before swinging and jamming the blunt end of the axe as hard as physically possible into the side of the manager’s skull. The man’s grip on Ohm’s throat relented as he fell backwards, off the author. Ohm gasped for air, his lungs desperately taking in the stale air of the honeymoon suite. Staggering to his feet with the axe still in hand, Ohm looked over to see Mal clutching his head as he let out a pained groan.
“You bastard,” Mal cursed as Ohm turned away from him. His heart was pounding as his limbs began to move, his body staggering over to the elevator that was his only chance to escape this Hell hole. Mal tried to stumble after Ohm, the author frantically hitting the heart shaped down button over and over again. It seemed that luck was finally on Ohm’s side as the elevator door opened to reveal the empty cab. Ohm rushed in, quickly pressing the down button over and over again before Mal had the chance to stop him. “Wait-” The man tried to call out to Ohm as the doors closed in his face.
“Fuck,” Ohm panted as he leaned forward, resting his head on the mirrored edge of the elevator’s cab. His grip on the axe in his hand tightened as he let out a shaky laugh. Relief flooded his body as the elevator made its way back down to the hotel.
Don't celebrate yet.
A small nagging voice at the back of Ohm’s mind reminded him. He wasn’t out yet.
The elevator’s doors opened and Ohm stumbled out, his relief quickly turning to horror as he realized the gate in front of the elevator was locked.
“What? No, no, no, no,” Ohm grabbed the metal gate with his free hand, trying to yank it up but it refused to move. The sound of the elevator closing behind him let Ohm know that Mal probably wasn’t that far behind. Ohm’s shaking hands tightened around the axe, his eyes flicking to the lock wrapped around the bars. Raising the axe, the man brought it down with a shout. Once. Twice. Three times. It took three hard swings before the chained lock finally broke. Ohm yanked the chain off as he lifted the gate. He ducked under the metal cage and staggered down the hallway; Ohm’s exhaustion prevented the full sprint he willed his body to attempt. Sunlight poured through the hotel’s windows as Ohm made his way downstairs into the lobby. The front door was ajar, allowing the author to see the car parked just outside. The lights were on, key still in the ignition. Ohm found himself unconsciously reaching out to his salvation, his heart pounding in his ears when he felt it.
The pain.
It took Ohm’s mind a moment to realize what was wrong before his body hit the floor and every nerve of his body screamed out in agony. A crossbow bolt. Buried in his shoulder.
The sharp tip poked through his now bloodied arm, piercing flesh and cloth alike.
“Fuck!” Was all Ohm could scream out as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He raised his right hand in an attempt to stem the bleeding. This only served to aggravate his injury, Ohm barely clinging to consciousness despite the pain. Through his now clouded vision, Ohm barely made out the figure of Mal coming down the main staircase, crossbow in hands. The author tried to get to his feet, but his body refused to comply, barely managing to get to his knees despite the agony that rippled out from his shoulder wound. Ohm’s right arm moved from the bolt, his palm hitting the carpeted floor as he started to desperately crawl the few feet between him and freedom. His blood smeared into the carpet underneath him. It was barely visible in the already red fabric. Ohm didn’t notice in his banjaxed state, only focusing on the way his fingers grazed against the hotel’s door, sun shining down on his face-
A grip on his legs yanked the man back away from the door to the reality of the man behind him. His body hitting the floor spiked the pain anew as Ohm blearily turned to see Mal standing over him with a grimace on his face.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this Mr. Bauman,” was the last thing Ohm heard before he finally allowed darkness to consume him.