SCORPIO TATTOO MAN

I was leaning my back against the wall, holding my knees to myself, and my head buried. I couldn't bear to look at the bloody bodies in front of me.

Since when did I start beating people to death for my own benefit? I lowered my trembling knees.

I took one last glance at the bloody landscape in front of me and stood up. They deserved it, even if it was for my own interests.

I decided to consider these later.

I looked at the open cell door.

I have to get out of here as soon as possible. Then the thought seeping into my mind like smoke, splitting my gaping doors of hope.

He said 16 thousand 2 hundred 78, if there are so many people, there are definitely those on this floor.

However, the number of people who could not stand LSD and died was also high.

Still, if I can find them, unite ...

I immediately stopped the smile spreading on my face, I have to get out of here first.

There were cameras outside, I couldn't go out in these clothes. I turned my pale gaze to her bloody uniform in places.

Exhausted, I breathed and walked towards the woman, taking off her bloody clothes, and I had to do this no matter how disgusted I was.

After the cold outfit I took off, I put on uniforms that were a little tighter for me.

I wrapped the wet wounds sloppy.

My knee was exposed and there was dried blood, I wrapped the strips on the bed to prevent the blood from showing.

How are you going to hide what you've got?

I silenced my inner voice that stirred my conscience. I forced myself to think rationally.

The half-full IV bag on the floor caught my eye, I took the IV bag slowly, I cut the tip with the pocket knife on the bed, poured it into my hand and started to clean it.

I cleaned the dried blood from the top of my hand, from between my fingers to my ankles.

The fresh wounds on the joints that connected my fingers to my hand were obvious.

I sewed two fingers of the remaining serum fluid on my head.

I had to leave before their absence was noticed.

I bought when they were unconscious on the bed; I also pocketed a wad of keys attached to a large ring, a few syringes, and small LSD vials.

Finally, I also wore white shoes.

I walked over to the open door and looked out. Then I went out slowly and closed the door behind me.

I needed to look into the hallway again. There were no people in sight. Where should I go? I chose the left, trusting my luck.

I was walking in fear of the steps I took. I felt like I was in a horror movie and I was the first stupid girl to die.

There were rusted doors that seemed impossible to open every five yards.

I pulled out the heavy wad of keys from my pocket. One of the keys in my hand could open the door that I'm standing in front of now.

But what percentage of probability was I to meet someone good when I opened it?

A killer? Or a thief? Probably I had a chance to pick the most notorious criminal.

Still, I decided to open this door.

I chose one of the keys and started trying them all one by one, with joy when the thirteenth key was seated in the hole, I turned the key.

When I stepped in, I was disappointed.

The room was empty.

I decided to try my luck by opening another door. I took the key to the empty room from the ring, put it in my pocket, and decided to open the opposite door.

While I was trying the keys, I hoped the camera viewers were not suspicious.

On the second attempt, I was very surprised when the key was placed in the slot.

I let go of my holding breath, as I turned the key and opened the door, I was excited (also scared).

The door opened in silence as I was entering, the scream I heard from the other end of the corridor seemed to cut off my connection with the world for a moment, my heart beating in my mouth, so that anyone who might come here would not see me.

I left the door ajar and leaned my back against the wall as soon as I walked in. While I was waiting for my breathing to clear, I wanted to see if the room was empty, I opened my eyes.

It was full. I approached the side of the bed and had a sick gown on the body that was tied at the waist, wrists and ankles and neck to the bed.

The harsh look on his face made me question whether I made the wrong decision.

Then I looked at the black circular bands on his temples. I knew he would sober up when I took him out.

It was the scorpion tattoo on his neck that caught my attention.

I wondered if he was dead, I slipped my fingers to his wrist and tried to feel his pulse. The slow beating pulse under my fingers relieved me a little bit.

I put my dirty nail, still with dried blood in between, on the tape and removed it.

Likewise, I knew that when I removed the other one, it would wake up in a minute.

His fingers wiggled slightly.

Then his eyes opened.

I guess he thought I was a doctor.

I swallowed.

"Hello." I was able to speak without shaking my voice.

He was staring at me without expression.

"Can you get me out of here?"