Strictly Taboo(14)
Chapter 6
Francis looked at Anne’s lifeless body as she lay on his bed. Latching his trunk he gave her one last look before he dragged it to the door. There was no doubt now that he would have to leave. Even with the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, he would only have a couple of days at most before someone suspected something. He dragged his trunk out to the concierge area and shut the door to his room behind him. All the while, as he dragged the trunk to the elevator and waited for it to arrive, he imagined the horror on her face. The look she had given him as she realized what he was and what he was doing to her. The desperation that turned suddenly to acceptance and then to peace as he drank the very last drop of her life from her veins. He hadn't wanted it to end this way. Valentina, perhaps, but not Anne. But what choice did he have? It was the mercy of a swift killing or the slow and agonizing death of his child taking her from the inside out.
The elevator door opened and Francis stepped inside. He would travel down to one of the lower floors and take the maintenance elevator from there. While he knew that there was little they could do to end his life if caught, he wasn't going to invite the possibility of a lifetime of confinement. He cursed himself for being so careless.
The elevator bounced to a stop on the eighth floor and Francis dragged his trunk out and down the hallway. He had no idea whether he was heading in the right direction, but it only made sense that the maintenance elevator should be somewhere towards the back of the hotel. As he dragged the trunk full of his clothing and minimal possessions, he couldn't help but hope that his fortune of barren hotel hallways would continue.
Fortunately for Francis the halls remained empty and the maintenance elevator was exactly where he thought it was going to be. Unfortunately for Francis, there was a maintenance worker inside the elevator when the doors opened.
“Hey buddy, you can't use this elevator, it's for maintenance only!” The stubble chinned man said. Francis waved his hand as if to dismiss him.
“No, no, is okay.” He said, hoping that his thick accent would offer him the protection from further questions. But the man shook his head,
“No, no, is not okay. This elevator is for maintenance, you aren't maintenance, therefore, you have to use the other elevator.” The man was getting testy and Francis was beginning to contemplate a second murder.
“Hotel lady say it is okay. I am…magician.” He said, gesturing down to the trunk. “But she say they don't want me to drag through lobby every time I go to do show.” He looked back at the man who now shrugged.
“Okay, whatever. But if you’re lyin’ to me and you get busted for bein’ in here it ain't my problem. And don't say I didn't warn ya.” The man pushed the door open button and waited for Francis to drag his trunk inside the elevator before releasing it. “You goin’ to the ground?” He asked. Francis nodded his head. He’d have to do his best to sneak out of the back exit of the hotel and hope he didn't run in to any more maintenance men in the process.
When the elevator came to a stop, Francis waited for the maintenance man to step out first but when he insisted on holding the door to be helpful, Francis was forced to drag his trunk in to the concrete floored hallway. The maintenance man paused and watched him for a moment and Francis leaned over to examine one of the locks on the trunk. He fiddled with it, hoping that the man would just walk away and after a brief pause, he did just that. Francis breathed a sigh of relief. He had never given much thought to trying to escape anywhere before, he'd never really had a need to, but now that he did, he found the process to be tiring. His innate desire to feed was beginning to burgeon as he contemplated ridding himself of the inconveniences of life in such close confines with human beings.
Francis managed to make it through the back exit of the hotel without anyone stopping him. A small mercy for which he was very thankful. All he wanted to do now was to get out of this God forsaken place and go home to the comfort of his cozy albeit drafty, castle.
At the back of the hotel one of the waiters from the restaurant was smoking a cigarette and remembering that he too was a smoker, Francis stopped to light one up. A waiter was no more likely to suspect him of anything than a stranger on the street, besides, the man looked haggard and uninterested in what Francis was doing.
“Hey, man, you have a light?” Francis asked as he slipped a cigarette out of his silver cigarette case and put it between his lips. The man looked at him briefly before pulling a cheap orange lighter from his pocket and lighting Francis’s cigarette.
“What's in the case, amigo?” The man said, his own thick Mexican accent disguising his words.