Michael followed behind Jerry with his meticulously rehearsed swagger. With his head tilted high, sunglasses reflecting the light from the windows, strutting like the white jacketed gang leader in the King of Pop's Beat It video, you wouldn't think he'd be scared. You'd be right, he's not scared, he's terrified.
There was this fear that had hit his hindsight. What if Nancy was innocent? Now, he knew there was no way in hell she could have committed 'self-defense' against someone like Scarlett, you'd have to be bum-fuck stupid to think that, but what if the two of them were grouped together. What if, like he and Jerry, they woke up and made a group, and what if, someone big and nasty took them for an easy target. Michael knew Nancy had a weapon from the announcements. Maybe she fought back, and their would be killer used Scarlett as a shield, then pussed off like the coward they were. Maybe it was a little bitch like Alvaro.
Jerry was rather determined to find her, to put an end to her. Michael didn't blame him, hell he was helping him find her, but he'd like to question her first, just to be sure. He'd know if she was lying, you can't bullshit a master bullshitter. If she wasn't, she'd be free to go, and they'd look for the theoretical 'real' killer. However, if she were the killer, they'd follow the original plans, kill her, then hang her corpse from the asylum roof. Enough bed sheets to make a noose right? Plus she didn't have to be alive by the time they dropped her, just the thought of a killer's body hanging should be enough to deter other would-be murderers. Then, they'd target the other psychos, Alex, Isabel, Alvaro... Hang em' all from the roof, let them know that Mike and Jerry were the Judges, Juries, and Executioners around here.
Still, Michael was nervous. He didn't want to be making a mistake here. Neither him, nor Jerry. If they lynched the wrong one, well... They wouldn't be no better than the other killers would they?
Jerry was knocking door open after door open, no sign of the bitch. Michael leaned against a wall, zipping his jacket up for extra protection. He slid his axe underneath his arm as he began to roll the sleeves up, folding the cuffs backwards so they didn't slide back down his arms. It was kind of an oxymoron to be honest, protect your torso, leave your forearms exposed... But he needed the extra mobility on swinging his axe, and his vital organs were in his chest right? He didn't have hearts in his wrists after all...Not like arteries or veins were a thing, neither.
Michael swallowed the lump in his throat as Jerry kicked open the door. He heard Jerry speak, before he got cut off. That was when the smell hit him. Michael had crept up behind Jerry, looking into the doorway. There was a body, fresh, fresh as in blood was still pooling from under it. Michael lowered his shades in disbelief. This was the first real corpse he'd ever seen. He's been to haunted houses, he's seen slasher films, and many were more bloody than what he witnessed. This? This was different, flesh and blood, real, but it was stiff, like a mannequin, it was either real, and moved a little bit, or it was stiff, and obviously plastic. This was both stiff and real, not only that, there was the air, the smell. This wasn't just the scent of blood, it was something else, not something like bodily fluids, but something completely alien to him. The room was cold, windy almost, as if the victim's ghost just phased right through him on the way to hell...
"You gotta be fuckin' kidding..."
He turned his head to the other side of the room, the area Jerry was staring at. 'Speak of the devil' alright... All that shit he was thinking, it was all wishful. He'd have liked to think maybe he could be wrong. Nope, he was right the first time, Jerry was right the first time...
Nancy wasn't innocent, and that meant only one thing.
That bitch was gonna hang tonight...