Hematophagy, Pt. 8

A lesser individual might have found themselves filled with panic at that realization. Not me. There was work to be done and there was no time to waste in the doing of it. The sense of purpose and the drive to uncover the truth about my mysterious attacker cut through the itching that pained my skin, the buzzing that filled my head.

I turned off the water and jumped out of the bathtub, nearly tripping once more due to my bundled up underwear, and began drying myself off. I needed to focus solely on searching the hotel room for clues and I wouldn’t be able to do that if I was simultaneously distracted by ruining the evidence as I dripped water all around the room. I could only hope that I hadn’t already destroyed some vital clue as I’d dragged myself across the floor.

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