070 - thread
Max dropped the hotel keycard in the door lock. The green light blinked twice, and he heard the lock undo itself. He pulled the card back out, and pressed down on the door handle, and the door glided open easily. After stepping into the room, he let go, and it closed itself, re-locking automatically. He flipped on the lights.
"They're here with me," he thought silently to himself. Max walked over to the edge of the bed, and sat down. He stared apparently at nothing, just looking directly into the mirror by the desk on the opposite wall. He began to laugh a little.
"I know you're here," he said out loud. "And of course, you know where I am at," he continued. "But what you don't know is why I am here."
He took in a deep breath, as if he were getting ready to begin a long, prepared speech. "I'm sure you're asking yourselves, 'Why oh why would Max come to this hotel out of the blue?' After all, you know my routines, my habits, and all my interactions. There is no way you could have predicted that I would have come here, unless you can read my mind. You're not capable of that yet, at least, I don't think so."
"I was careful, very careful, to give no indication that I was planning this. I wanted to surprise you, you see, to make sure that there would be no way that you could stop me." He laughed again, a bit more maniacally this time.
"Are you nervous, old friends? Perhaps just a little, right? Don't worry, I assure you, this will be much more painful for me than it will be for you." Another pause. "But it will be worth it."
"So, let us not delay the main act for too much longer," he said, as he stood up and walked over to the desk, where he had placed his briefcase. As he popped open both the latches, he continued talking. "Now, I'm not sure how much information you guys are capable of getting, and if you were able to see me slip these into my briefcase," he said, as he pulled out a large bottle of rubbing alcohol, a kitchen knife with a very sharp blade, and an assortment of gauze and bandages.
"Perhaps you thought I had finally gone mad. Or perhaps you still aren't able to even sense what I am talking about. I know you can listen in, and track my location, but I'm not certain if you can see. Well, if you can't see, then maybe you're truly feeling a little nervous about these great unknowns."
"I could tell you, but you can just wait a minute or two and find out yourself," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He turned over his left arm, rubbing around the fleshy pad of skin on his forearm near his elbow. "I believe this is the spot," he said as he pressed into his flesh gently, before dabbing the area with rubbing alcohol."
It was going to be difficult for Max, since it meant he would only have one free hand to do what he had planned next. "My friends, you have been following every aspect of my existence for years now, but I'm sorry to tell you that our time together must come to an end."
He breathed in deeply, holding the knife in his right hand, psyching himself up for it. "Goodbye, old friends," he said, as he quickly plunged the blade into his skin. It hurt immensely, but Max just tried to focus on the freedom it would bring him.