As Evil As Murder

25 | A Glass of Wine

The tears of death faded out in the room to be replaced by something much more severe. Curiosity, perhaps?

I wanted to know how Dean died, who killed him, and how Lucas Whitmore's brother was caught up in all of this. And I wanted to know them now.

It was like Poppy took over my body, and for once, I let her. I stood up from the blood-stained carpet and watched as people burst into the room. The doctor seemed apprehensive and who could blame him? The man was informed that the guy lying dead would have been a murderer. Everything changes now don't it? If the monsters are killed, what's left behind?

I didn't have time to dwell on that. I needed to find Lucas Whitmore as soon as I could. Gloria was standing timidly behind the doctor and nurses, her eyes widening as they reached my bloody clothes.

The brunette nurse said something, one word with concern, another with accusation, and another with curiosity. If it was legally required of me to answer all of the questions, then my bad, I didn't.

The entire hospital seemed like the aftermath of a nest being shaken violently. People were running here and there, and I concluded that one of the staff couldn't keep the secret in. All news, especially ones consisting of death, spreads like wildfire. This wasn't any different. On the other hand, the cops were yet to arrive so -

"The cops are here," Gloria whispered, as I walked over to her.

"Damn it.'' I linked my arms around hers, careful not to let the blood touch anywhere near her body. She still tried to jerk back.

"What the hell is going on, Lottie?" The seriousness in her eyes made me feel a bit scared of my plans, but I shook it off and was determined once again.

"It's a long story, where are the toilets?" I enquired, and she pointed towards the left corridor. I hurried along.

Some people saw me and screamed, but then again, they were already screaming so it did not draw much attention. I still couldn't believe the chaos caused by one potential murderer. Someone should mention that the supposed murderer is dead but the killer of him might just be walking beside them.

When I reached the loo, I closed the door behind me. The mirrors on the left wall yelled at me to look at them, but I kept my eyes on the blood in my hands, rather than the full view of how I might be looking. I didn't want to be traumatized more than I already was.

"Charlotte. Charlotte!"

I didn't look up to her, instead focused all my energy on washing the blood off my hands and chest.

Just rub rub rub.
It's not blood. Just not blood.
Don't think about what it is, just rub rub rub.

"What in the holy hell is going on?" She asked shrewdly.

"That was Luke's brother." I whisper-shouted.

"I need more context than that, for Christ's sake." Gloria came by my side, just so she could glare at me sideways.

"I don't know how. But they have the same birthmark, and now that I think about it, they are both similar in many-"

"That's bullshit. If he's Lucas's brother, why didn't he come forward? And why didn't Lucas recognize him?"

"I don't know, okay?" I snapped, concentrating on my face now. I was clean now, almost. Yet I felt so disgusted. I could wash my hands for a thousand years and I'll still feel the blood there.

Trauma does that, Poppy said in my brain.

"Shut up,'' I said, clenching my teeth.

"What?"